(no subject)

[tamarindchutney]

Title: Between Here and Now and Forever, Chapter 15
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: The Founders, various OCs
Rating: PG-13 -- I raised the rating for some really awful insults.
Summary: Wherein the ridiculously huge feast takes place and everyone is a complete showoff. Also, there's some fighting.
Author's Note: This is the first chapter that isn't pretty much pure gen, I think, so if it's not your thing, sorry.
Also, that gen zine I've been plugging has a name now! Come write or draw for The Hogwarts Express at expresszine!

Chapter 1
Master Founders post
Chapter 14

Godric didn't know what he ought to say. He considered a few clever options, but then decided that they weren't clever at all. Finally, he decided that he was overcomplicating a simple conversation, and that he should just talk. He cleared his throat nervously. "Clio?"

She looked up from her plans, seemingly about to snap at him, but then her weary expression broke into a wide smile. "Godric! What are you doing here?"

"Teaching Transfiguration," he said, trying not to look smug. "You?"

"Telling people what to do," she said, making no such effort. "Sit down so I can see you properly," she said, and Godric complied, although the floor was very dirty. "So you're their great Transfigurator to rival Fudge? I wondered who they'd got, but Our Lady of the Winged Pigs didn't describe you very well."

"Er. You mean Lady Aeaeae?" Godric asked, going a bit red. "I er, I may have shouted at her a bit last time I saw her."

"Yeah, but she acted like you were stupid or violent or something," said Clio. She leaned against the wall, frowning. "I don't know why. Then, she never gets anything right, does she?"

"Aren't you under an Unbreakable Oath to serve her?" Godric asked. He remembered Ersikyne saying something about that.

"Yeah, but I don't have to like her," said Clio. "She has us do all sorts of horrible things and her deadlines are completely unreasonable, and I hate her voice. I hope your side wins, really; pink and blue just aren't my colors."

"I think you look good," blurted Godric, before he realized how stupid he sounded. He blushed. The tunic of her uniform cut off just above the knee, and was quite a scandalous thing for a woman to wear, so he'd been trying his best not to notice how it looked on her.

"Thanks!" she said, grinning. "I'm so glad you got out of that place, though, I was worried about you."

He went even redder. She had worried? "Oh, er--"

"I was going to see if I could have Fudge thrown into an oubliette, but apparently I don't have the authority to do that without framing him for treason or something," she said. "He still should've paid you more. You should have asked him."

"I didn't want to get him angry," said Godric, who didn't want to get stuck on this subject. "But at least I'm out of there now, right?"

"You've got a point," she said. "How'd you end up here, anyway?"

"Oh, um. I sort of know Lady Aeaeae's daughter," he admitted.

"And she hired you? And you trusted her?" Clio asked, staring.

"What do you mean?" Godric asked, blinking. "Why wouldn't I have trusted her?"

"Oh come on," said Clio. "Everybody knows she killed her husband. Probably with something that scary friend of hers grew. And that whole mess with the Inferi was pretty bloody suspicious."

"But why would she..." He was only a Muggle, Godric remembered her saying. What if Clio was right? But she was Rowena. The worst she'd ever done to him was telling Helga when to throw him off the roof. And that had probably been Helga's idea in the first place. Rowena had been consistently nasty, but the worst things were always Helga's ideas. "Well, I suppose it's possible," he said. "I don't know her that well."

"I'm serious, Godric, be careful around that woman," said Clio. "She probably killed Ersikyne, too."

"What?" Godric stared. "But I liked Ersikyne. He's dead? How did he die?"

"I told you! The Inferi thing," said Clio. "How do you think I got to be in charge?"

"I just thought he got too old or something. What Inferi thing?"

"That bitch colluded with --"

There was the clearing of a throat, and they turned to see Rowena standing several yards away, looking quite small and lonely. "It's a long story," she said quietly. He couldn't see her face, because she was looking at the floor in front of her, but she sounded frightened.

"Good evening, Lady Ravenclaw," said Clio stiffly.

"You don't have to call me that," said Rowena. "Godric, you're supposed to be in the --"

"What do you mean, he's supposed to be anywhere?" snapped Clio.

"I'd... I'd really rather not argue with you tonight, Aurelia," said Rowena, plainly biting back some less polite response. "I'm having a very bad night."

"Well, it could certainly get worse," said Clio, glowering.

"That was my point exactly, Aurelia," said Rowena. Godric could hear the strain in her voice from having to be polite. "There are going to be some duels after the feast, incidentally, if you'd like --"

Clio paid her no mind. "Godric, I'm going to make sure my Auras are following orders. I'll talk to you later," she said cheerfully, then left.

He was left confused, with a very relieved-looking Rowena. "What happened there? She's usually very nice."

"I've yet to see any proof of that," said Rowena bitterly. "And it's Aurae, not... why are you sitting on the floor? It's dirty."

"So I could talk to Clio," said Godric.

"You could talk to her perfectly well if you were hanging upside-down by your ankles," she said. "Now get up."

He got to his feet, dusting himself off. "I just -- I mean -- she told me --"

"Really, you ought to stand up for yourself," said Rowena. "I don't see why you'd let her tell you what to do. She hasn't any reason to want you dead."

"Don't be ridiculous, Rowena, I doubt she wants you dead," said Godric. "I mean, why don't you just explain to her about... er. Whatever happened. I mean, obviously you don't kill people. If you just told her..." He trailed off, because everything he said just seemed to make her look more and more depressed. "Or not?"

She sighed heavily, and motioned for him to follow her. "Come on, the feast is starting in a few more minutes. Do you have everything ready for the entremets?"

"So long as the house-elves have got the peacock ready," said Godric. "What are you doing for yours?"

"Marzipan chess set," she said.

"That's not very spectacular," he said, a bit disappointed.

"You’ll be singing a different tune when I kick your sorry arse at chess," she said. She sounded almost smug, and when she wasn't looking, he grinned despite the insult. Rowena might be unpleasant sometimes -- all right, nearly all of the time -- but she always looked so sad lately, and a few accusations of idiocy were worth it to see her looking happy again.

* * *

After the first course appeared on their plates, Rowena immediately began introducing people to him, which was something Godric had been dreading all night. He knew soon enough that the names and faces would dissolve into the back of his skull and he'd never recognize any of them elsewhere. "This is Godric of Gryffindor. He's a very good Transfigurator," she told the two men on her left. "Godric," she said, "these are the Stigandrsons, Hrafen and Ari." Hrafen was soberly-dressed, but his brother wore long robes of gold and green, with birds in flight woven into the pattern, as befitted a nobleman. "A pleasure," said Ari Stigandrson in Latin. Godric nodded. "And these," she told the brothers, "are the Hufflepuffs."

"We've met," said Helga, who seemed decidedly unimpressed.

"You have?" Rowena sounded too pleased to have noticed her tone.

"We have?" asked Ari Stigandrson, sounding rather skeptical.

"At a duel," said Helga.

"Helga --" started Basil.

"Now you, Hufflepuff, I do remember," said Stigandrson. "You ruined my best robes. But ...oh, it is the angry little Herbologist!"

"I'm not little!" snapped Helga.

"Every feast," said Basil, sighing. "Every feast! She gets angry at every feast!"

"Tell him that I'm not little!" she ordered Basil.

"Helga, you're only five feet --"

"My trees could beat up your trees, you know that? There'd be nothing left but turpentine and needles!"

"I think we can all agree that, seeing as we're not four years old, it doesn't really matter," said Basil. "Anyway, what do you care about him? He cheats at duels!"

Stigandrson seemed to have something to say about this, but Lady Aeaeae interrupted him.

"I certainly hope there will be no potions tonight," she said, in a whiny, loud voice that silenced all conversation. Godric grimaced and wished he could hide somehow. Instead he looked sadly down at his unfinished apple muse and pretended he was a profoundly deaf boulder. Couldn't she at least wait until the second course to start ruining the feast?

"Funny you should mention that," said Lord Slytherin from the other end of the table. He sounded very pleased with himself. He waved his hand and the remains of the first course vanished.

Well, that was no good. Godric liked apple muse. But Lord Slytherin was going to introduce the first entremet, so he stopped sulking and paid attention.

Lord Slytherin, with what was either remarkable slight-of-hand or house-elf-assisted wandless magic, made one goblet after another appear out of thin air and set them out. Godric remembered these well; he'd stayed up late last night coaxing some of the wine in each glass to coalesce into the shapes of sea creatures. Then, with the air of a showman, Lord Slytherin brought out four small vials. "I have here four fairly interesting potions. Because of the nature of these potions, however, I'm afraid we're going to have to change the order of things just a bit. Master Hufflepuff, would you please draw the dueling circle?"

Basil waved his wand, and a large red ring of smoke appeared at the front of the hall.

"Thank you," said Lord Slytherin. "Now, would all those who intend to participate in the duels please cast their Patronuses into the circle?"

"Patroni," Rowena muttered. "Aurae and Patroni. Doesn't anybody speak Latin anymore?"

What seemed like half the high table raised their wands and cast silver smoke into the circle, and a veritable bestiary of silvery animals coalesced in the ring. Jasper said something -- it sounded like Latin numbers -- and the animals dissolved, leaving smoky copies of themselves.

"What's that for?" Godric asked.

"It's to keep anyone from backing out of it once they've signed up to have their arses kicked," said Rowena, who'd cast what looked like a pigeon. "You've never heard of Patroni? Everybody's got a different animal."

"I know what a Patronus is, I'd just never seen one," snapped Godric. Several well-known Transfigurators had proposed that an Animagus could only transform into the animals they had for his Patronus. Most of them were less well-known for their contributions to magical theory and more well-known for having blown themselves up, so Godric was pretty certain they were wrong. Still, it was an interesting idea.

"You have never been to a feast before?" Hrafen Stigandrson asked.

"I wasn't allowed to stay for the dueling," said Godric, feeling sheepish. It prompted a raised eyebrow from Stigandrson; Rowena just rolled her eyes.

"Now," said Lord Slytherin, "I have here four potions. All of them will greatly improve the chances of the duelists who receive them and, fortunately for the lucky four, all of them can be diluted in wine with no ill effects. This one here is a potion of my own invention, which renders the drinker impervious to pain and injury for several hours -- if anyone would like to contribute a clever name, please do." He poured a dark potion into one goblet of wine.

"Then, of course, there is the Draught of Peace, which calms the nerves of the drinker so that they need not panic uselessly." He poured this vial into another goblet.

"The third potion is Wit-Sharpening Potion; keen insight, I'm sure you'll all agree, is a valuable weapon against the most terrible of enemies." This potion went into the third goblet.

"And finally, the one I'm sure everyone is most interested in -- Felix Felicis. It needs no introduction." He poured several drops of this liquid into the last goblet. "And now, you may all pick your poison," he said, with a sardonic grin at Lady Aeaeae.

With another snap of his fingers, the four goblets became thirty-three, each identical and full of swimming, jumping wine-fish.

Godric had never heard of Felix Felicis, but he desperately wished Lord Slytherin had just handed the last goblet to him. He'd never heard of it, but it meant luck twice in Latin, so it had to be good. Godric had never been lucky even once.

But once Godric got his wine, he suspected it would do nothing to him but make him drunk if he had too much -- and there was certainly not enough in the cup to do that, since it was the same size as everyone else's. Rowena seemed to be looking happier than she had since the argument with Clio, though, and Godric wondered if she'd got anything in hers.

The second course was mostly soups and cheese tarts, and passed mostly without event, though the entremet afterwards was a complicated-looking bit of Arithmancy that Jasper had put together into a strange game. The object of the game was to make one's marzipan warrior stab marzipan Inferi, which one was then permitted to eat. Basil complained loudly that you didn't kill Inferi that way, while Stigandrson pointed out that really, you didn't kill Inferi at all. Godric didn't care either way, though, because he liked marzipan. He managed to win one round of it and nearly won a second, so he was quite pleased with himself all through the third course, which was mainly rabbit and lamb.

It was followed with an entremet prepared by Helga; a beautiful mint tree sprouting from the center of the table, bearing fruits shaped like animals. First came jellyfish, crabs, scorpions, and Quintapeds, then fishes, lizards, birds, and all manner of game animals. Finally, at the very top, a blue and pink fruit grew into a rough likeness of a woman wearing the winged pig of House Aeaeae.

"Our guest of honor gets the first choice," said Helga sweetly but without much sincerity, sending the tiny potted tree over to Lady Aeaeae with a flick of her wand.

"Oh, you're very kind, but it's yours, after all," said Lady Aeaeae, just as saccharine, sending it back.

"Why, thank you!" Helga said cheerfully, and she appeared to take great pleasure in biting off the fruit woman's head.

The next course passed far too quickly for Godric; it was beef and pork and beef and beef and also some beef, and afterwards it was his turn to be entertaining and impressively magical.

"Well," he said, as the beef and pork (and beef!) disappeared. "Erm."

Rowena was glaring at him murderously, probably because he wasn't being entertaining or impressive or anything but slightly terrified and maybe feeling a bit ill; perhaps it was all those marzipan corpses. He gulped, and looked at Clio. She smiled encouragingly, and it didn't help his nervousness at all, but at least Rowena couldn't kill him with her around. So he went on. "Er. Ah. You all know Lord Slytherin and his son, and a lot of you've had Helga do your terrifying carnivorous gardens for you -- they're nice terrifying carnivorous gardens, don't give me that look! -- but you're probably wondering who the idiot in the middle is. That would be me. Er. Obviously. Well, er. I'm Godric, and I teach Transfiguration here at the school, and I promise you I'm not usually quite this stupid when I'm not absolutely terrified. So, er. I'm afraid I'm not much of a storyteller, but I hope the thing I did is entertaining. The entremet, I mean."

And, hoping he didn't make a fool of himself, he tapped the table once, and a small platter of roasted vegetables sprang up from nowhere. Then, concentrating, he started the real magic.

One of the radishes became a short, red-faced commoner -- either a particularly well-off peasant or a merchant down on his luck. A parsnip -- now turned into a beautiful willowy woman -- walked by, and the radish sprang up from where he sat and began to speak to her in a squeaky, incomprehensible vegetable garble. She laughed and answered him, and the two seemed to be getting along well enough when an exotic carrot-knight in fine purple-and-gold armor rode up on the back of a squab.

The parsnip was suddenly very pleased to speak only to the carrot, and the radish went back to being mopey. There was laughter from the table; the plot was a common one, and Godric had been counting on the others to know it well enough to understand the characters without being given any dialogue.

Then, suddenly -- and the trick was to keep the feasters from noticing -- a great blue bird-beast swooped down from the ceiling and grabbed the knight in its terrible claws. It soared up to the ceiling, then flew the entire length of the Great Hall, breathing illusory fire at the students, and roaring quite convincingly. Godric was careful to ensure that everyone had had a good look at it before it flew up into the rafters with its prize.

The table's attention turned back to the radish and the parsnip as they argued shrilly. The lady seemed distraught, the radish determined. He took up the sword their kidnapped companion had dropped, and climbed, with some difficulty, onto the squab. The lady gestured wildly, blocking his path -- she did not want him to go! She would not forgive herself if he died!

He ignored her gestures and her arguments, spurring the squab onward. At this point Godric brought the beast down from the rafters to perch on the bare remains of Helga's tree. The knight clung awkwardly to a high branch, attempting to climb down stealthily, while the bird-thing cleaned its scales.

The radish rode up to the beast, narrowly missing a jet of fire and waving the sword feebly. With one swipe of its talons, the beast took the squab from under the radish and cooked it. In desperation he swung wildly at the beast with his blade.

It was looking bad for the vegetable men, but suddenly a long rope wound itself around the creature's neck. It tried to fly away, but the rope closed tight about its neck. Slumping to the ground, the dying bird-beast revealed the fine lady, having tied the rope to the trunk of the tree. She helped her carrot knight down from the tree, and admonished the radish, who had the decency to give her the sword. She slit the bird-beast's throat quickly, then returned the sword to her knight.

The radish shrugged to himself, seeming to accept his lot in life as the lady and her knight bade him goodbye. As they walked away, all three of the characters in the drama settled back into their former shapes, and the beast, magnificent even in death, became a beautiful roast peacock, its plumage still intact. Slowly, reality returned to the Great Hall.

There was riotous applause. It surprised Godric, partly because he simply wasn't expecting it, and partly because he'd been so wrapped up in the transfiguration and the story that he hardly remembered his surroundings. He chanced a look at Clio, who was beaming -- at him -- and he tried not to blush.

"I have to say, I have never seen Fudge do anything in person," said Hrafen Stigandrson, "but that was very impressive."

"That was quite good for simple spectacle, Godric," said Rowena, who was actually smiling. Smugly, of course, but smugly for him. "He was panicking over it," she told Stigandrson. "He always panics. I don't know why."

"It appears to work," said Stigandrson, raising an eyebrow.

"We all have our inspirations, Hrafen," his brother pointed out.

"Yes, but yours are so costly," said Hrafen.

"We can afford to buy so much more than panic," said Ari. "Perhaps soon the Transfigurator will be able to do the same; as a scholar, I am certain he appreciates fine things like books and instruments of magic. Rowena tells me you studied with Fudge," he said.

"Er," said Godric. "Yes, I --"

"But I have heard that you were Fudge," he continued.

"I learned most of what I know about Transfiguration while I was working for Master Fudge," said Godric.

"He's very good at vague answers, I will give you that," said Ari Stigandrson to Rowena. "Have you been teaching him that?"

"Look, I'll tell you about it later, all right?" said Rowena, a bit more quietly.

"What? But I -- you won't --" said Godric.

"Yes she will," said Stigandrson lightly. "There's no need to worry, Transfigurator, I never gossip about friends." He smiled. Godric could tell why Helga didn't like him, but he didn't seem bad, and Godric also knew how getting into an argument with such a well-heeled guest would make him look. He decided to shut up, and picked at his food all through the fish course. He didn't think he liked porpoise very much, but perhaps the food was too fancy for his palate.

Finally, Rowena's chess entremet arrived. "Think of it as a warm-up for the duel," she joked, after asking for challengers. She beat Ari Stigandrson soundly within five moves, and while they brought out the rest of the desserts, she played the next game against her father.

And finally, after long aimless conversations about sailing and fistfights and aura-lenses, Lord Slytherin announced that the dueling would begin.

Basil walked to the edge of the dueling circle, where the ghostly false Patroni politely edged back into the corner -- all except for a transparent badger. Basil knelt to touch it, and for a moment it snapped back into a true, silvery Patronus before vanishing. He stood again. "As I am the dueling master of this school, I think it's only right that I duel first. Lady Ravenclaw, would you care to help me show them how it's done?"

"Certainly," said Rowena. She raised her arm, and the pigeon perched on it briefly before disappearing. Godric watched as the two of them stood in the center of the circle, bowed, and then began to duel. His eyes weren't quick enough to see what was going on -- all he could see were sparks and flurries of frantic wand movement, and that Rowena was good at spells but seemed not to understand how to get out of the bloody way what was she thinking agh oh no!, and he clutched the table in suspense and vicarious terror. Still, it was close -- Rowena seemed to know weirder spells, at least, and fancy blocks -- before Basil Stunned her cleanly. She acknowledged her defeat with surprising good humor, got to her feet, and sat down at the table again.

"That was planned," she said under her breath.

"He cannot win his own fights?" asked Stigandrson, laughing.

Helga rolled her eyes. "No, that's you."

"He probably would have won anyway. I just prefer to be prepared, that's all," said Rowena. "Most of it was real."

"All right," said Basil, "who else wants to fight?" He looked expectantly at the table. "Come on, who else cast their Patronus?"

Stigandrson rose. "I will duel," he said loudly. "Although I think I should appreciate some little bonus, since I'm fighting a werewolf."

"Really? Seeing as you cheat and I'm a hell-beast, I think we're pretty evenly matched," said Basil. He cleared his throat, and addressed their audience at large. "I would like to thank Master Stigandrson, incidentally, for being a terrible duelist; it's how I met my wife."

"Basil!" Helga said. "Don't be cruel, there's plenty of time for that after you win."

"Her first words to me were, I believe, 'Shut up,'" said Basil. "You can see we've kept up the same level of conversation through the years."

Stigandrson rolled his eyes. "Tell me, what kind of name is Hufflepuff, anyway?" he asked.

"Dunno," said Basil, shrugging. "I made it up off the top of my head."

Stigandrson seemed annoyed that Basil wasn't insulted; he shook his head as his corvine Patronus alighted on his shoulder. The two of them bowed, the duel began.

Stigandrson was a much better duelist than Rowena, though he was just as theatrical about it. He moved gracefully, and with surprising speed, while Basil dodged hastily, only narrowly escaping his hexes. There was a short, hypnotic few moments when the two of them were bouncing the same curse back and forth at each other with such perfect time that it was like watching a pendulum.

Suddenly, Basil ducked to the floor, breaking the rhythm of the duel, and Stigandrson scrambled to re-aim his wand. Basil disarmed him quickly, while he was off balance, and Stigandrson muttered something about werewolf magic. Helga gave him a wide, smug grin as Basil gave his wand back.

The next challenger was one of the tall, bland men who Godric had been introduced to as a relative of Rowena's on her father's side, although he looked like he might have been Jasper's younger brother. Then, names and faces were quickly beginning to blur together for Godric. He fought methodically, with a sort of fierce detachment, and it seemed to Godric that Basil was trying to trick him and not doing very well. Finally, Basil managed to hex him an instant before he blocked. He was beginning to look a bit exhausted.

And then one of the Aurae stepped forward. Godric recognized him as Bogdanovich, the one who Clio had warned not to kill anyone. Bogdanovich smiled widely. "I wish to challenge the Master Hufflepuff in the duel, yes." His Patronus, which was some sort of giant weasel thing Godric didn't recognize, ambled up to him, and Basil looked quietly terrified. Godric knew that sort of look; it was how people used to look at him when they'd just accidentally insulted him and were wondering if they could outrun him.

They bowed, and suddenly hexes were whirling through the air -- vicious, terrifying ones, enough to sever limb from body, hexes not normally used after feasts, or even in honor duels -- and Basil was doing all the dodging. Bogdanovich seemed pleased enough with himself, until Basil began to deflect the hexes back at him. The Aura blanched at nearly having his own eyes cursed out, and scaled back to pleasant hexes that only caused jaundice and leprosy. Basil had caught his breath, and it looked like he might have a chance -- and since he'd won so many duels in a row, why shouldn't he? -- but then Basil dropped his wand.

Actually, it looked more like he'd thrown it into the center of the ring. There was an awkward pause.

"Oh dear," said Basil flatly. "Look at that! You've disarmed me. Very good."

Bogdanovich seemed grumpy. "Why yes, I must have," he said. "But you, you were doing so well before!"

Basil shrugged. "Can't win everything, can you? I must've worn myself out. I concede." And he picked up his wand and left, looking intensely relieved.

"What was that all about?" Godric whispered.

"If he'd won, he'd have to become an Aura and swear his life to the Chief," said Stigandrson.

"Frankly, I can't imagine a more depressing life," said Rowena, grimacing. "I don't know how sensible people like Alfhild and Hatim can stand following my mad mother's orders. And Bogdanovich is supposed to be pretty bloodthirsty --"

"The Reykjavík incident," said Stigandrson. "Not pretty."

Bogdanovich shouted "All right, so who wants the dueling?"

There was silence.

"Oh come on!" he shouted. "I am very nice! Will not make you win! Is only a game! Ha ha?"

Aurelia Bergfalk, the blonde woman, stood. "I will."

"Oh, but I should not hurt a pretty lady like you," said Aurelius Bogdanovich, laughing. "That would be --"

"I have heard it all before, Vukasin," she said, rolling her eyes. Her Patronus, an odd, bat-eared dog, met her as she approached the ring. Without giving him time to prepare, she bowed, and began to duel.

Bogdanovich's attacks were just as vicious as before, but Bergfalk managed to dodge them, and as they fought, she managed to back him up against the edge of the dueling ring, until finally he stepped out. The line on the ground flashed once, and Bogdanovich's wand sailed out of his hand into Bergfalk's.

He was no longer grinning; after she handed his wand back, he returned to his seat at the High Table, muttering.

"Well, then," said Bergfalk cheerily, looking at the remaining Patroni -- a hawk, a most undoglike canid, and a tall, shaggy dog. "We've got Hatim, Sheffield, and somebody I don't recognize. I promise I won't bite."

And the dark-skinned Aura, al-Aziz, stood and collected his hawk Patronus. "I think I will duel you," he said.

"I always beat you, you know," she pointed out, smirking.

"Not always."

And when this duel began, it was more like dancing than fighting. Whenever Bergfalk threw a curse, al-Aziz blocked it perfectly; she deflected his Arithmantic curses with equal ease. The spells darted back and forth like multicolored fireflies.

Then al-Aziz did something -- an odd gesture with his wand, and suddenly Bergfalk's curses bounced back at her.

"Oh come on. You never get this spell to work," she said, surprised. Her voice sounded tinny and distant.

"But I have!" he insisted, pleased with himself. "I realized my mistake just now!" She kept testing, and found that, though she could move about with perfect ease, none of her spells would get past some invisible barrier. She conceded, though she seemed quite pleased about it.

And then it was Clio versus al-Aziz. "I wouldn't want to be him," said Stigandrson.

"I know," said Basil, apparently having found something they agreed on. "He doesn't look afraid."

"Why should he be?" Godric asked.

Basil blinked. "Aurelia Sheffield? She's terrifying."

"And evil," added Stigandrson.

"No she isn't! How would you know?" Godric snapped.

"You have terrible taste in women, Godric," said Rowena, rolling her eyes.

"Terrible, slightly scary taste," added Basil, horrified. "Sheffield? She'd lop your ears off for fun, sell them on Knockturn, and then steal them back in a fortnight!"

"You married a defense herbologist," Stigandrson pointed out.

"Yes, but I have reasons for my ear-lopping," said Helga. "I do hope she doesn't hurt him too much," she added, worriedly. "Hatim's brilliant."

Godric shushed them all and leaned forward to watch the duel. And this time, it was a real duel. Al-Aziz started chanting under his breath as soon as they'd bowed, and Clio began to attack quickly, with cruel, simple curses. Godric had seen her win fights before -- but those had been bar fights, mostly physical, the kind of thing he'd been hired to stop, and he'd stayed out of them both as a courtesy to her and because she was wonderful to watch.

Al-Aziz wasn't some unsuspecting idiot who picked fights on purpose. And he wasn't drunk. He blocked every single curse, with amazing speed, and sent a few of his own right back, and even she seemed taken aback.

They circled each other warily, al-Aziz repairing holes in his Arithmantic armor, Clio pulling together some sort of magical protection of her own. Godric thought he recognized some of al-Aziz' Arithmancy, but he suspected she didn't, and he wished he could shout help to Clio.

And then al-Aziz struck. With one well-placed curse, he managed to completely shatter her own wards, and quickly sent another hex at her -- a fireball. She put up her arm to shield her face, and Godric nearly leapt out of his seat, but the flames dissipated harmlessly. She opened her eyes, and smiled.

"She must be a werewolf!" Stigandrson said.

"Don't be ridiculous, that's not how it works," said Basil. "You just recover a little faster, is all."

"She's taken the potion," said Rowena, in a flat, strange voice. "She's taken the imperviousness potion, and he's had the Felix Felicis. He wouldn't have been able to hit her otherwise. She's too good." She sounded horrified, though Godric couldn't fathom why.

"Rowena? What's wrong?" Helga asked.

"I thought it would be... it... it's nothing," said Rowena sharply. "I'm just tired."

Meanwhile, Clio was taking advantage of the potion, dismantling al-Aziz' wards with glee, without bothering to dodge his hexes. She finally just waded through all of his magic and knocked his feet out from under him with a sweep of her leg. "Fine!" he shouted, throwing his hands up. "I relent! The duel is yours!" He offered her his wand, and shrugging, she dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

"Well, then," said Clio, smiling with predatory enjoyment of her invincibility. "Who do we have left?" The lone remaining Patronus was an ugly sort of dog-beast, with ears like a bear's and all the dignity of a cutpurse. Alioth Nigellus stood and walked to the circle with an attempt at a sneer. It didn't conceal his terror.

"I suppose I should have gone earlier," said Alioth. His smile was weak.

"I suppose you should have," snorted Clio. "Hufflepuff taught you to cast a Patronus?"

"No," said Alioth. "My great-grandfather studied Dementors for Balthazar Slytherin. We still have them around, sometimes." He looked bleak.

"How nice," said Clio. "Well, then. Let's begin!" And she bowed, and sent her first curse flying, and Alioth barely had time to dodge. But he did -- and that was pretty much all he did for the first few seconds. He seemed to have given up altogether, and Godric couldn't blame him -- he wondered if it was really sporting, but he'd cast his Patronus and it seemed to be a matter of honor -- and then Alioth cast his first hex.

It didn't do anything -- not visibly, at least -- but it seemed to frighten Clio for an instant, and suddenly the boy was sending a volley of hexes at her -- hexes that didn't seem to do anything. And it was throwing her completely off balance. Godric worried that she was being hurt, but he was only a student, and she'd just taken a fireball in the arm, hadn't she?

And she snarled and recovered, nearly, and though she winced every time he hexed her, she began to fight back. He was terrified, and he no longer bothered to hide it, and do what he might to dodge her, it wasn't working. "Block her! You know this!" Basil was whispering under his breath, but he looked to be losing ground quickly.

With a final spell from Clio, cast in a snarling tone, a cluster of purple tendrils shot from her wand, strangling him and snatching his wand away.

"Some interesting things you're teaching your students," said Clio, waving her wand to dissolve the spell. Alioth dropped to the floor, gasping, and she threw his wand back.

He took the wand, looking rather ashamed. Godric couldn't see why -- he really shouldn't have expected to win a duel with the leader of the Aurae Aurelii.

"I think he did quite well, considering who he was up against," said Basil, shrugging.

"I suppose," said Clio. She smiled painfully. "A rousing series of duels. Many thanks to our hosts. But I should go check some of the wards." And she bowed, and left the Hall before anyone could say anything more.

"Well, that certainly made her look stable," said Ari.

"You shouldn't be so insulting; she might find out about it," said his brother.

"As though I couldn't defend myself," he snapped.

"I don't think she'd actually attack anyone," said Basil. "Her job's to keep the other Aurae from doing that. I wonder what Alioth used."

"Mental hexes," said Rowena. "Not that she needs them. She's already completely --"

"I think all of you are being horrible," said Godric, doing his best not to snarl. "She’s a real person, you know." Trying to keep his temper, he added, "I am going to see that she's all right, while you wonderfully polite people can continue to tear her to bits in her absence." He stood to leave, because if he started shouting in Clio’s defense it wouldn’t help her at all.

"Oh come on, Godric, don't be an idiot," said Rowena. "You're supposed to stay here."

"Idiocy is in my nature, and so is distaste for cruelty," said Godric. "Interpret me as you will. I know you won't be as charitable as you were with poor Clio." And with that, he left, trying not to be angry. They're just being people. People always think that other people aren't really people, you know that, Godric. Don't be like that.

He caught up with poor Clio in the corridor. "Are you all right?" he asked.

She looked up at him and smiled rather tiredly. "I'm all right," she said, wincing. "Well, mostly. Just... sometimes I wonder if I'm up to this damn job, is all."

"Oh, I know how that is," said Godric.

"How could you? Technically the Unbreakable Vow's supposed to keep them in control, but mostly it's me. And none of your students like to hurt people for fun. "

"Clio, you hurt people for money," Godric pointed out.

"But they deserve it!" Clio said earnestly. "Unless they don't. But that's for the Council to sort out, and my customers before."

"Oh, all right, then, if the Council says it's all right," said Godric.

"Oh, shut up," she said, smirking. "As if your entremet wasn't for their benefit. Not that I'm complaining, mind, it was brilliant."

He tried not to blush. "I'm glad you liked it."

She grinned. "So'm I. Why don't you show me around the castle, hm?"

"I would, but don't you have to go work for the Evil Overlady?" asked Godric.

"What Lady Aeaeae doesn't know won't hurt me," she said smugly.

"Er. Well, the castle's all shifty and movey," said Godric. "So hopefully we won't get lost. But I think I sort of know my way around by now."

He took her to see Lord Slytherin's alchemy laboratory, where she seemed impressed and slightly disgusted at the poisonous snakes, and Basil's Defense classroom seemed nearly up-to-snuff in her expert opinion. She seemed a bit taken aback by the library. "I didn't know they had that many books," she said, frowning, as they left. "I thought it was just the Bible, and maybe some stuff about what not to do that God didn't think of already."

"I know! Isn't it brilliant? It's mostly magical theory, and some geography and history, and even some weird heretical stuff." He supposed it was mostly weird heretical stuff, as it was about magic, but he didn't care. One of the nicest things about the library was that Rowena hadn't thought to take all of her Transfiguration or mythology texts out of it, so he could still sometimes find useful things on the Animagi.

"I dunno. Reading sort of hurts my head," said Clio. He had never actually seen her embarrassed before, but she certainly was now. "I, er. I was only just learning to read when I met you," she admitted.

He blinked. Her not writing to him, her unfamiliarity with theory, it all made sense now. "Why didn't you tell me?" Godric asked. "I wouldn't have bored you with all of my stupid Transfiguration--"

"Oh, no, you made it sound interesting!" said Clio. "Just, I never quite got used to the reading, is all."

"It takes a while for most people, I think," said Godric. He'd learned to read when he was twelveish, he thought, which made him pretty lucky. They had reached the door to his common room by now, and Godric said "Password." It opened.

"That's a terrible password, you know," said Clio, amused.

"I'd forget it otherwise," said Godric, letting her step in first. "This is the common room that my fourth of the students share. They all sleep upstairs," he said, "and I sleep at the top. There's supposed to be a really nice view of the grounds from the roof of the tower, but, you know, I'm afraid of heights."

"Let me guess, your favorite color's red," said Clio, looking around at the room.

"Of course!" said Godric. "How did you know?"

"I'm very clever," she said, grinning. She went to sit down on the cushioned bench against the far wall, and for a moment all he could see -- and this very dimly -- was one side of her face. The fire sputtered, and Godric pointed his wand at the fireplace to revive it.

"Come sit down," she said, and he sat on the floor near the bench. He stared at the fireplace uncomfortably, not wanting to look at Clio, because suddenly he was afraid that if he looked at her, she would realize what he was -- unworthy and monstrous and boring as hell -- and she would leave him alone again.

"Is something wrong?" she asked.

He looked back at her, startled out of superstition. The fire was reflected in her eyes, and he could see a hint of a smile, as though she was trying not to laugh. There. He was lost. He couldn't look away. "No?" he said. "I - I mean, I suppose not."

The smile became a full-on grin. "Good," she said. She stood, looking him in the eyes, then leant forward and kissed him. For a moment Godric had no idea what to do, and then suddenly, he remembered.

And then they parted, and somehow, all his sense vanished again. "Um," he said, feeling his face go hot.

"I see you're almost as coherent as last time," Clio said smugly.

"Last time you were leaving," he pointed out. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized she was pleased with him, that she tolerated him -- that she might even enjoy his company the way he enjoyed hers -- and that he ought to make the most of it.

"This time I'm not going anywhere," she said, putting her hands on his shoulders.

"Hmph. Not if I can help it," said Godric, giving in. He pulled her gently towards him for another kiss.

* * *

Rowena had known, absolutely known, that Lord Salazar had planned on giving her father the Felix Felicis. It was rare, it was magical, it was lucky, and she knew by the way Hatim had fought that her father hadn't received it, and what the buggering fuck kind of plan was this, anyway? A bad plan. She’d lost her patience.

And somehow chaos had started to seep in slowly, behind the scenes, until it was knee-deep and only Rowena could feel it. Hatim and Alfhild had disappeared, and Aurelia Sheffield was nowhere to be found, leaving only mad Aurelius Bogdanovich keeping the peace -- which would have been fine with anybody else, but he was mad for a fight. Helga and Basil were telling him violent stories about things that'd happened before their wedding, and keeping him away from the students. Ari seemed to have found a fanboy in Leo, and was looking alternately baffled and flattered at Leo's enthusiasm. And her mother kept implying that the castle had eaten her other Aurae, until Jasper pointed out that the moving floor plan spell on the castle was from a treatise Rowena had written five years ago, so really, whose fault was that? At which point Rowena decided she was going to get out of the Great Hall, since all she could do was look anxiously at her father and at Lord Salazar and remain silently but obviously grumpy.

The excuse she made to herself was that she was going to find one of the missing Aurae. Of course, since she knew Hatim and Alfhild were off getting married and presumably not spending the night on guard duty -- unless that was what they were calling it these days -- the only one she would run into was the unequaled Aurelia Cliodna Sheffield. She was the last person Rowena wanted to run into in an empty hall. But the castle liked her, and so in retrospect, she probably should have known better when she found herself in front of the door to the Red Common Room. At the time, she merely thought she would get to shout at Godric for a bit, since that usually cheered her up.

But when she opened the door and went inside -- eurgh.

And yet, something kept her from fleeing. It was the same thing that had made her finish reading Oedipus Rex as a child, and slightly more recently, the thing that had kept her from fleeing the first Inferius she'd ever seen -- somehow, the horror of it made it impossible to look away.

The Dementor released her unsuspecting victim, and (for the love of all the gods!), she giggled. "Do you want to go upstairs?"

"What's upstairs?" Godric asked stupidly. The idiot was sitting on the floor again, and that crazy bitch was practically in his lap.

"Your bedroom?" She cocked her head.

"Er." All the happiness went out of his voice. "I -- Clio, I can't." (Here Rowena put a hand over her mouth to keep herself from laughing. Salazar hadn't mentioned any potion that helped with that.)

"You can't?" Sheffield asked, sounding rather skeptical.

"That came out wrong! I shouldn't. It's -- because you're -- er. I'm. Well, look at me. You can't possibly want -- that is. We shouldn't! I mean. I would hurt you, even if I had a spell that... er. I. And also, we're working for the wrong people."

Sheffield shrugged. "I took a fireball to the arm today, Godric, I don’t think you could hurt me even if you meant to."

"That is really not reassuring. At all," Godric said, cringing.

"I didn't mean it like that," she said. "Anyway, like I said, what Lady Vowels-for-Brains doesn't know won't hurt me. And you could always desert," she added, before kissing him again.

Before she could make any more arguments in favor of her proposition, Rowena cleared her throat, and the two of them sprang apart, each looking quite deservedly embarrassed. "Actually, she's looking for you," she said drily.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Sheffield. She looked very, very angry.

"I was taking a walk," said Rowena, realizing that her own presence was also... rather questionable. "I'm really sick of interrupting you two, by the way, so --"

"What are you doing here?" Godric asked.

"What part of common room do you not understand?" Rowena snapped, her tiredness coming back to her. "And you told me the password last week so you wouldn't forget it, remember? It's 'Password.' Twit. Besides, you left the door open. Anyway, it's just as well, she's probably been sent here to seduce you."

"Oh really?" said Sheffield, stepping forward. "I'm not quite that devoted. What I do on my own time is my business."

"But it's not really your own time, is it?" said Rowena.

"Nevertheless, it's my job to protect your stupid mother, not spread my legs for whoever she says. That's your job," she said, jabbing a finger at Rowena. "And you're apparently pretty miserable at it, considering you've been unmarried for, what, six years?" She was approaching Rowena with unnerving slowness, and Rowena was reminded strongly of a hunting housecat.

Rowena stood her ground, clutching her wand for reassurance. She knew better than to raise it, though. She wanted an argument, not a fight. "I've distanced myself from her," she said. "I'm nobody's whore, not any longer, and it wasn't like I had much of a choice to start with. You, on the other hand, well. She's not one to waste resources, even when they are pretty paltry."

"Oh, that's right!" said Sheffield, laughing. "Now I remember! You wouldn't do the job because you prefer your men dead."

Rowena tensed at that, and stepped forward slightly, her fists clenched. "You're disgusting," she spat. "Then, you did crawl out of the gutter, so I shouldn't be so surprised that you left your tiny little mind."

"I suppose after you killed your husband, the necromancy didn't take, and so you had to settle for the vampire." By now, the two of them were at arm's length, and so even with her poor vision, Rowena could see every detail of Aurelia Sheffield's smug expression.

"What are you -- Clio, you're scaring her! Rowena, come on!" said Godric. They both ignored him.

"That's ridiculous--" Rowena started.

"And when Ersikyne found out, you had him killed too, isn't that right?" Sheffield demanded. She was right in Rowena's face now -- not touching her, oh no, but Rowena could smell her horrible breath. She took a step back.

"I didn't --"

Godric was standing above them, still attempting to mediate. "Would both of you --"

"Or maybe the vampire wasn't good enough either -- poor circulation and all --"

Rowena recoiled, but found herself against the wall. "I never even -- we never did that!"

"-- and you thought you'd brushed up on your necromancy by then. You always did seem to have daddy issues, from what I --"

"That. Is. ENOUGH," shouted Rowena. She raised her wand, but Sheffield caught her wrist and bent it the wrong way. There was a sickening snap, and Rowena dropped her wand.

She looked up, and all she saw was Sheffield's fist.

Chapter 16