Though all of the horror of Dooku’s attack was over for the time being, leaving behind only a myriad of memories and questions in its wake, there was still a very critical and very scary beast that lay before them: finals. Anakin knew he didn’t even have it as horribly as he could too. He could be a fifth year and taking his OWLS or he could be a seventh year tackling NEWTS. Still, that didn’t make him all the less excited for test taking season.
Especially for Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Nobody really knew what the protocol was going to be, since the year itself was a wash. At least last year when they lost Professor Fisto, he had prepared them and taught them a whole lot so they would be ready anyway. Now, the only people who really had any grasp on the course material were those who had attended Obi-Wan’s tutoring sessions.
As Obi-Wan was discussing the concept of a personatus with Anakin as well as other transformative beings such as changelings and werewolves, he was never more grateful to have him as a resource. They’d all been working around the clock for their respective exams, practically living in the library for much longer than he fancied.
It had been a revolving cycle of wake up, eat, study, sleep, and that didn’t include the classes they already had. Thankfully, there wasn’t much new material being passed at this point in the year. Most professors had transitioned into reviewing the content of their exams.
Obi-Wan had reportedly already gotten a near-perfect score on his sixth year makeup exam for Magical Creatures, so that felt like one bridge was crossed. Anakin didn’t even know why he was worrying when he’d been able to teach everyone else how to do the work that Gunray couldn’t accomplish even in his dreams.
With Gunray gone, Anakin didn’t understand why they hadn’t resumed the more extensive classroom sessions, especially with Obi-Wan’s natural talent for teaching. Though Anakin admittedly didn’t always listen to his former mentor, he could respect that he generally knew what he was talking about.
However, he knew Obi-Wan wouldn’t so easily go for it. He was way too humble to assume it was he that the grades of younger students relied on. Not to mention, the threat of detention or worse had been enough to ward him off for the time being. He hadn’t wanted to rustle any feathers and that was understandable at the time when Gunray and the Ministry had their hands in the Hogwarts bucket. Now, this was not the case.
So, he had gotten to work in assembling his arguments, using valuable sleeping or more importantly, playing time, to develop his tactic. It only took one night’s time, thankfully, but he couldn’t see how Obi-Wan could possibly deny that he was needed.
Not one to hold back exactly what he’d been thinking, Anakin cut off his diatribe on the differences between a personatus and a changeling- which Anakin didn’t think he was going to grasp today anyway, and kickstarted the topic.
“You should start up the DADA classes again,” He said.
Obi-Wan frowned, though he looked more flustered than displeased, “Anakin, I am not in the position to make that sort of decision. That’s why they’re reducing the content on the exam so that it’s a bit more fair.”
“Even with that in mind, we’re still not going to get it!” Anakin insisted, “I mean, they didn’t even get us a replacement yet.”
“Supposedly, something is in the works,” He corrected, “You have to be mindful that it’s quite intimidating for any professor to hop in during the final hour. Excluding the fact that the subject wasn’t taught all year to begin with. It’s a setup for failure.”
“Which is why we need you,” Anakin said, “You clearly could care less if you’re a failure! You didn’t care about losing the tournament and you really don’t care what your parents think of you.”
Something twitched on Obi-Wan’s face, like his nose had itched, but he retained a neutral expression and shook his head, “I still wouldn’t want to lead anyone down the wrong track.”
“Oh come on, the only reason anyone knows even a fraction of this dribble is because of you.” He argued. “Rex didn’t know the difference between a vanishing cabinet and a vanity cabinet before you came along!”
“What’s so vain about a cabinet anyway?” Rex grumbled from beside him before straightening, “He’s got a point there, Kenobi.”
“I’m truly flattered that the two of you want me to teach,” Obi-Wan tried a different approach, “But not only do I have my own NEWTS to worry about-”
“As if you’re not going to ace those,” Cody snorted from beside Obi-Wan, who earned a reproachful look from him. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea at all, mate.”
“It’s not fair that I’m the only one who gets to hear all this stuff. Plus, you liked doing it, I know that you did.” Anakin knew he was teetering on whining, but he was not above such things when he believed he was pursuing what was right. “Don’t tell me you’re scared!”
“Of course I enjoyed it,” He said, his mouth tight with restraint, “I’m not frightened for me or the consequences that could befall me. I wouldn’t want to do anything that might get Headmaster Yoda in trouble.”
That much was as fair a point as any, even if the political discourse that had taken shape seemed to be utter chaos with Minister Valorum’s mysterious statement of resignation followed by practically vanishing off the face of the earth. The only thing that kept it from being explored as a missing person’s report was that Yoda and other reputable sources said that Valorum had been discussing resignation for months now.
Apparently, he’d felt so shameful that he left behind his wife and children without so much as a second thought. No, Anakin didn’t know why he ever believed that man would ever care to find his mother. Clearly, he had no regard for what loyalty really was.
“I thought you might say that,” Anakin smirked as he pulled the scroll he’d been working on and unrolled it until the entire table was draped in parchment, the end hitting the stone floor with a clunk. Signatures of all different varieties ranging from first to seventh years alike littered the pages. Some people Anakin didn’t even know were on there. “So, I brought in some reinforcements.”
“All of these people want me back?” Obi-Wan asked in disbelief, filtering through them all, paying mind to each name as though committing them to memory. However, it was the three fingered claw with green ink print next to it that captured Obi-Wan’s attention. He looked up at Anakin with wide-eyed shock, “ Yoda signed this?”
“Sure did,” Anakin grinned and then pointed out several other professors, “Windu was a bit of a hard sell, since he hates all that is fun and good with this earth, but he gave in with my words of persuasion.”
“Anakin kept saying “please please please” over and over again,” Rex corrected.
“Whatever works,” He shrugged and then looked pleadingly at Obi-Wan, who was back to inspecting the petition perhaps for any traces of fraud, but mostly with reverence and honor to have been considered worthy by so many. “Look, Obi-Wan, everyone loved you as the substitute teacher. Do you know how hard that is? Subs are usually the targets of pranks, taunting, and sometimes even attack!”
“To be fair, he’s undergone quite a bit of that on his own,” Cody said.
“But the point is, I’m not the only one who thinks so,” Anakin said, “So, what do you say?”
After another moment of silence, just Obi-Wan quietly sifting through each signature in amazement, he sighed heavily. He looked unbelievably moved, though wasn’t teary eyed. Anakin was grateful for this. He wasn’t the sort who dealt with criers very well. Instead, Obi-Wan seemed to ponder just about every course of action that led him here and whether or not he deserved to be in such a place.
As if he wasn’t the Head Boy of the bloody school.
“I say class will be in session this Thursday,” He cleared his throat, trying to maintain all appearances of sternness, “Don’t think that just because I’m extending my reach means you can reduce your time studying.”
“Yeah okay” Anakin rolled his eyes. “And you’re welcome, by the way.”
“I’ll thank you if you show up on time,” Obi-Wan quipped.
“Ah, no promises there then,” He smirked.
It was a beautiful day, one that obligated basically everyone to be outside, whether it be for studying or for recreational activities. Several classes were even held outside that day to commemorate such lovely conditions. Obi-Wan had followed that line of thought and had done the same thing for his DADA group, which had kickstarted again rather seamlessly.
It had been a lot of running around and obstacle courses today, which only increased the momentum and excitement that was already at play, but Obi-Wan was just happy to see everyone so eager to learn. Yes, he knew that finals were rapidly approaching and no one wanted to fail, but it was still exhilarating to make a difference.
And to be able to do so out in the light.
“Good job with those hex-deflections,” He smiled, clapping his hands together as the fourth year group began to gather their things, “Next class, we’re going to discuss hex-breakers and the intricacies of replacing negative energy with positive energy.”
His mood was only heightened when the sea of students parted and he noticed Satine Kryze leaning against the oak tree not far from where he’d been teaching, watching him with quiet amusement as he left his things behind and jogged towards her.
She was dressed for the weather- choosing knee socks over stockings and lacking a gray sweater or vest on top of her white button-up. Her tie was loosened a tad and her sleeves were even pushed up in a show of rare informality. It suited her, just as anything did, and he couldn’t help but fixate on how lovely she looked with her hair pushed from her face with a navy headband.
The sun caught her hair perfectly, making it look like it literally glowed a bright yellow, but it was the toothy smile she offered him that caused him to pick up the pace in shortening the distance between him.
“Good morning, professor,” She teased loftily, though her hands cradled his face in acceptance of the quick kiss he bestowed on her mouth.
“I missed you at breakfast this morning,” He said, propping an arm against the tree so that he leaned in her space, “Catching up on some beauty rest?”
“Have you noticed a need for it?” She arched an eyebrow at him.
“Not at all,” He smirked, “I was just going to ask you your secret on the matter.”
“Very smooth,” She retorted.
“I thought so,” He said, “So, what kept you from the most important meal of the day?”
“Actually, I was conferring with Almec, the Minister of Muggle Relations for the Ministry of Magic,” She said casually, adding a shrug to the end in hopes of seeming even less affected by this very pivotal news. “You know, discussing the state of the world and what can and should be done about it.”
“Oh is that all?” He laughed a bit, though his mind went in several different directions for all the possibilities, “When did you set this up? What did he say? What did you say? How did it go?”
“Calm down,” She chuckled, placing her hands on his chest, though Obi-Wan could tell she was absolutely buzzing with excitement beneath her carefully crafted exterior, “He was quite impressed with my paper on the Muggle Protection Act and why it’s grossly outdated.”
“Truly some of your best work,” He vehemently agreed, “Your choice in utilizing a second person point of view was bold, but dearly worked for your exquisitely personal perspective, my dear.”
“Almec felt so too,” She said, “Though he wasn’t quite as intricate with his feedback or notes as you were.”
“Glad I’m not being replaced quite so soon out the gates from school,” He joked.
“Never,” She tugged gently on the knot of his tie, “But anyway, he said that he’d never met someone quite as passionate and knowledgeable about the history of wizards and muggles and their respective differences.”
“I learn something new from you every single day,” He said.
“Sometimes it’s something simple like the fact that rubber bands exist, but yes, I rest my case.” She said brightly, “I did offer some counsel on how I believe the Ministry should be reacting to Dooku’s stance. It’s the time to get ahead of the subject and to fight bigotry from high points first.”
“Like with my parents,” Obi-Wan scoffed.
“I didn’t mention them, but I was certainly thinking it,” She grimaced before practically bouncing back into her good mood, “He loved everything I had to say and completely agreed on all accounts. And… That he just had to have me on board for his internship program this fall.”
“Oh my God!” Obi-Wan was so taken by excitement that he picked her up into his arms, shaking her just a bit before setting her back down, “That’s amazing news!”
She laughed, “I know and this will actually be a perfect tract for me to enter if I want to pursue a law path, which is basically the only way to get any standings of power around here for any real change.”
“Indeed,” Aside from being born into it, you had to forge your own path by fighting the good fight with lawyers on occasion. Satine would be absolutely brilliant at whatever she put her mind to and Obi-Wan couldn’t seem to stop smiling at the image of her defending those who could not defend themselves. “Congratulations! I’m so proud of you!”
“Thank you,” She beamed, more radiant than the sun above them and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so warm, “It’s a year long program and with Almec’s recommendation, I could truly get into one of the better wizarding law firms for muggle outreach programs.”
“I have been doing my research and it seems the best are those that are based in muggle areas.” He said, “Which is interesting and not surprising.”
“I have to try and stay central to the Ministry,” She said, “As much as I loathe politics, I don’t want to drift too far to the outskirts. That’s how people are forgotten about.”
“I’d never forget you,” He said, “Though I wouldn’t necessarily mind seeing you around the office every now and then anyway.”
“Oh no?” She smirked, looping her arms around his neck and bringing him closer, “You wouldn’t be ashamed to be the Auror with the loud, anti-violence, difficult girlfriend? I certainly won’t be making your life easier, I imagine.”
“Nothing new there anyway,” He laughed when she playfully tugged at his hair, “Besides, I couldn’t be more proud and humbled to even be considered in your orbit, let alone a part of it.”
“Yeah?”
He pressed his forehead to hers, looking deep into crystalline eyes, “I am positively thrilled for you and cannot wait to see you change and make the world better just by you being in it, just as you’ve made mine better.”
“Oh, you sap,” She sighed dreamily and kissed him again, more thoroughly and much more distractedly, before he could have the chance or presence of mind to respond. Oftentimes, when she kissed him like this, his brain simply stopped and melted into a pile of useless goo. He’d very nearly forgotten what they were even talking about when they broke away quite flushed and with swollen lips.
“Shall we go break the news to Cody and friends?” He finally asked after a moment or two of just staring at each other and briefly considering forgoing all responsibility for the day and resuming where they left off.
“Indeed,” She cleared her throat and reached for his hand, “Though I highly doubt he’s going to understand most of what we’re talking about.”
“He’ll be excited anyway.” He said with a smile, “It’s your future, after all.”
When Padmé found Satine, she’d been walking hand in hand with Obi-Wan debating casually about the pros and cons of having a corner or central booth in an office space. Sensing that this conversation, though engrossing to the top two students of the school, wasn’t all that imminent at the moment, she and Bail Organa practically rushed them before they’d been able to cross through the main archway.
“What’s going on here?” Obi-Wan was the first to ask, a slight pinkness to his cheeks likely from being in the sun all day. Both halves of the couple looked immediately wary as they gaged how surprised both she and Bail looked. To be fair, they’d had more than their share of surprises this year alone.
“They’ve officially introduced who is going to be the new DADA professor for next term!” Bail beat her to the punch, “And you’ll never guess who they’ve gotten!”
“You’re right, we won’t, because at this rate, I’d call anyone crazy for taking up that position with how horrible its reputation is getting,” Satine drawled, “I mean seriously! There’s been treachery, murder, and incompetance in the past three years!”
“That is a pretty horrible track record,” Padmé agreed, “But it’s not like we can’t have a DADA class, right?”
“Right,” Obi-Wan said before Satine could likely go off on a full scale debate about how they should really reconsider the curriculum of the subject and how it was framed to be more about offense than actual defense at times. He, like the rest of them, was not prepared for such a tirade at the moment. “So, who’d they manage to get?”
“You’ll like this one, Kenobi, it’s Eno Cordova!” Bail said.
Just as Bail had predicted, Obi-Wan’s intrigue had piqued, “Spanish archaeologist and explorer of the dark and infamous Zeffo Vaults?”
“Is there another?” Satine gasped, her distaste for the subject already gone and replaced with interest, “But wait, how does that add up? I thought he went missing in the vaults years ago.”
“Like any spectacular explorer,” Bail, a big fan in his own right, went on to explain, “He’d recently found his way out, surviving on little more than his own wits.”
“If anyone could, it would be Cordova,” Obi-Wan pinched his chin, “I’ve read a great deal about him through the years. He’s the only known human to survive the scourge of a sarlacc pit’s stomach!”
“How horrid,” Satine shivered but then snapped back into enthusiasm, “Well, we ought to meet him, right? It’s not as though we will have many other opportunities since we are graduating.”
“That’s actually why we were looking for you,” Padmé said and focused on Obi-Wan, “Especially you. With Cordova being around, everyone is uncertain about the fate of your recently resumed classes.”
Satine looked to Obi-Wan too, her expression understanding of either outcome and sympathetic to Obi-Wan’s own feelings on the matter. She knew better than either Bail or Padmé did, but it seemed obvious that Obi-Wan liked teaching the study sessions. They’d learned a lot from him too, but knew that most would drift towards someone with official qualifications.
“Oh!” Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. The thought hadn’t come to him, obviously, but he played it off with nonchalance, “Don’t worry about me! I was always of the understanding that my position on the matter would be temporary and I’m absolutely thrilled to hear that someone so qualified will be stepping in.”
“I mean, I don’t see why they couldn’t have waited until next year,” Padmé said, “There’s been enough chaos here, not including bringing in a whole new professor.”
“Maybe to spare everyone from Windu’s DADA summer school,” Bail suggested, “And while I’d normally agree, Cordova isn’t just any replacement.”
“He is amazing,” Obi-Wan said, “He’s made just about every issue of “Archeologist Annual” for the past fifty years.”
“In all fairness, how many archeologists are there, really?” Satine asked. “He does have a fair bit to catch up on. It’s a heavy task, taking over at this rate.”
“He will more than manage,” Obi-Wan smiled dutifully, “Better than I ever could.”
Satine looked to have her doubts about that, though Padmé’s heart always warmed at the seamless confidence the two had in each other. Though they did quarrel a fair share before and after they got together, there was one thing that was never disputed and that was their faith in the other.
“I’m sure people are going to miss it all the same,” Bail said earnestly, “Though I am admittedly a bit saddened that I won’t get to experience Cordova’s lesson plan in full.”
“Instead they had that fake, Gunray this year,” Padmé scoffed before rolling her eyes, “Last Anakin said, he was moving his things into Gunray’s old office.”
“And there are lots of artifacts,” Bail said and Padmé couldn’t help but smile at how giddy he seemed. Obi-Wan was excited too, pulling Satine by the hand in that direction to go meet the new professor with haste, leading them all with charge. However, he was a bit quieter than before.
“No one would blame you for being disappointed,” Satine murmured from ahead, keeping her voice low in an attempt to spare him from explaining to the rest of the party.
“I’m not,” He answered, “This is good news.”
“If you say so,” She agreed mildly, though if Padmé knew Satine like she thought that she did, the discussion wouldn’t be permanently closed. As they made their way to through the halls in relative quiet save for Bail Organa’s occasional bursts of facts about the remarkable accomplishments of Eno Cordova, Padmé couldn’t help but ponder the fact that of this group, she was really going to be the only person affected by this change in professors. She wasn’t sure she could handle yet another change and hoped that Professor Cordova, with all the challenges he’d overcome, was ready for the true challenge of teaching.
Padmé had never actually seen pictures of Eno Cordova, so she didn’t know what she was expecting really. Upon seeing him in person, she decided it wasn’t what he actually was. When she thought of exciting explorers, she thought of tall, dark and handsome. However, this was not the case, for while he did have a dark tan complexion, he was also short, bald, and rather skinny.
This did not deter the older kids’ eagerness to meet him. She thought that Bail might launch himself at the man for a moment, but seeing as he was always more of a diplomat at heart, had been able to reel it in.
“Sorry to intrude, sir,” Padmé spoke when she found that Bail might pass out first, “I’m Padmé Amidala and we just wanted to introduce-”
“Dr. Cordova, it is an honor,” Bail said, sticking out his hand for the new professor to shake, completely cutting off Padmé, “My name is Bail Organa and I have always been a huge fan of your work.”
His eyes lit up and the wrinkles around his eyes scrunched even further as he smiled warmly and returned the handshake, “The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Organa.”
He also nodded at Padmé, “And you too, Miss Amidala. Your parents are wonderful people.”
“Thank you,” She smiled, “I think so too.”
“I look forward to having you in class!” He said.
“I’ve read just about all of your books, sir,” Bail said, “I’m extremely disappointed that I won’t have you in class.”
“A seventh year, yes?” Cordova nodded sagely and then wagged a finger at him, “You have been greatly deprived of the wonders of the world this year, Bail. Can I call you Bail?”
“You can call me whatever you want,” Bail said in an enthralled voice that caused Padmé and Satine to snort.
“Then you shall call me Eno,” He said, “I’ve seen too much of this beautiful rock not to share my findings. So please, come to my summer catch-up session. All are welcome.”
“I- I will, yes! There is nothing that would make me happier,” He said.
“Aside from your recent engagement, you mean?” Padmé gave him a gentle shove.
“Engagement?” Cordova’s brown eyes rounded and he patted Bail on the shoulder, “There is no greater thing to explore than that of love.”
“You should come to the wedding,” Bail said instantly, “I don’t know when it is or where it is or really anything other than who I’m marrying, but you should come.”
“That’s a pretty big deal seeing as he hasn’t invited any of us yet,” Obi-Wan snarked.
He glanced over to Obi-Wan and Satine and moved to exchange matching gestures with them, “And you must be Obi-Wan Kenobi and Satine Kryze, Head Boy and Head Girl, respectively.”
“I told you all he was a genius,” Bail whispered.
“That’s amazing,” Obi-Wan grinned, a bit starstruck in his own right, “How did you know that?”
“I make it a point to do my research,” He winked at him before flicking to his Head Boy button, causing the boy to blush and for Satine to roll her eyes, “Not to mention, you performed admirably in the tournament.”
“Thank you, sir,” He said, “I trust that the department couldn’t be in better hands.”
“Your approval is more meaningful than you know, Obi-Wan,” Smiled Cordova, “Because I have heard you make a mighty mean professor on your own.”
“I don’t know about-”
“-He does,” Satine confirmed resolutely, “He’s been tutoring a big chunk of the student body for their exams, and frankly, everyone is taking to them quite well.”
“And you’ve no interest in teaching, Obi-Wan?” He asked.
“Well…” Feeling a bit under the microscope, Obi-Wan scratched the back of his neck and searched the small office for his answer. It was a bit tough being asked by the newly hired professor why he didn’t go for his job. “It’s not that I don’t, it’s that I believe my calling is to pursue the path of an Auror.”
“Then you must answer it,” He made a tight fist, “And extradite every piece of knowledge you can from it. That is the only way to make life experience.”
“Yes, absolutely,” Obi-Wan nodded firmly.
“And you, Miss Kryze? Your name is not familiar to me as all these others are,” He said and Padmé could see Satine stiffen ever so slightly. However, any rigidity evaporated when he scratched his white goatee after studying her for a moment, “The best treasures are often those unheard of.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Satine said, “What has pulled you over to teaching?”
“I’m getting too old for rock climbing and dwelling in the bellies of beasts, my dear.” He said kindly, “Not that I expect teaching to be any easier.”
“Not at this school,” Satine said.
“You’ll find your position in particular to be most exciting,” Padmé said.
“Well, that’s good then,” He clapped his hands together jovially, “I can’t quit cold turkey, after all!”
“So, when do you think you’ll be starting?” Bail asked, “Today?”
He laughed, “Absolutely not.”
“Tomorrow then,” Obi-Wan said with just as much eagerness to see what the old explorer had to relay.
“You see, I am mostly just moving some of my belongings here.” He explained. “I still have to finish some loose ends regarding my findings in the Zeffa Vaults. So, I don’t expect to start until summertime.”
“But what about exams?” Padmé asked.
“I think there’s someone here who is more than up to the task,” He nodded towards Obi-Wan, “At least until I grab the reins this July.”
“Are you sure?” He asked incredulously.
“Positive, my boy,” He clasped his shoulder and then looked to Satine, who was watching Obi-wan with a bright smile, “And I don’t think I’m the only one who feels that way.”
He took a deep and settling breath, “I’ll try to ensure none of them fail, sir.”
“Eno.” He corrected and looked at each of them with sincerity and kindness, “I can tell just by looking at all of you that you are promised for infinite greatness. It is just waiting for you right outside that door. I cannot wait to see all you explore. Whether it be the highest of peaks or the lowest of realms. It will be tremendous.”
What they didn’t hear when they left and the door shut and locked behind them, was a wary Rael Aveross rip off the Cordova face with contempt, sliding it to the side of his desk. He leaned over a map that had been recovered from the actual Eno Cordova’s dead body, “Now, Cordova, what were you actually doing in the Zeffo Vaults? And what does it have to do with immortality?”
“Big day for you, mate,” Fives said as he clapped Cody on the back in passing to the loo. Echo reiterated this statement by digging his hands into Cody’s shoulders, as though he were revving him up for battle. This was anything but the case and only further irritated him, earning Echo a prompt shove to the ground when he tried to tickle him.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Cody gripped the red and gold fabric so tightly between his fingers that it could have disintegrated beneath his touch if he were a more powerful wizard. Cody never was great shakes at magic at the end of the day. He was good enough to pass, but his strengths had always lied with a broomstick in the air.
“You’re giving your jersey away, not your lungs,” Echo grumbled as he climbed to his feet again.
“That’s easy for you to say, you get to wear yours today,” Cody fired at him, “I’m the only one on the squad who won’t.”
“I thought it was supposed to symbolize welcoming newcomers,” Skywalker, also dressed in his Quidditch jersey on top of his collared shirt and tie. Though his timing was as uncouthe as usual, the kid was right. Traditionally every year on the last day of class, the graduating seventh year’s gave their jerseys to someone they cared about to wear for the day.
He knew it was meant to be a passing of the torch, but it still made him feel unwell to part with his jersey, which had been through a lot with him for the past six years.
“You know you’ll get it back at the end of the day, right?” Rex asked, hoisting himself on his own bed so he could tie his shoes. “It’s not like you’ll never have the chance to wear it again.”
Graduation would be the last official time. The idea was for a team photo with and without the graduating teammates would be taken and hung in the locker room. Then, the captain for next year would be announced. Logically, Cody knew that this day was coming, but he hadn’t made peace with just how soon it all snuck up on him. It felt like mere days before he had just landed his spot in second year.
“Not if Cody sleeps in it,” Fives snorted and then softened when he saw the look on his face, “Ease up, mate, it’s going to be alright. One step at a time.”
He knew it was all in good humor that his friends and family teased him for how focused he was on Quidditch, just as he teased them for their intense interests. However, a small part of Cody was having a hard time reconciling who he would be if he wasn’t on Gryffindor’s Quidditch team.
What if he didn’t land a slot on a professional team? What if this was the only jersey he would ever own that represented his love for the sport? What if he never got to be a part of a team ever again?
“Any idea who you’re giving it to?” Skywalker asked and then winced, “Sorry, lending it to?”
“I know a bunch of girls who would be interested,” Caleb said, leaning against the bedpost, “Though I know that’s not going to be your style.”
“Anyone who I would trust with it would already have one!” Cody complained, finding another frustration with the tradition, “My brothers have their own and I’m the only graduating seventh year! It’s not like I can just trade with someone else. Satine no doubt is wearing Kenobi’s since that’s what the couples all do!”
“Some people give it to a favorite professor,” Suggested Ackbar, but then shook his large amphibious head as he remembered who he’d been speaking with.
“What about your date to the Yule Ball?” Skywalker asked.
“You mean the one that Cody ditched?” Fives asked.
“And went back to Beauxbatons?” Echo supplied.
“You lot aren’t helping,” Cody said.
“It’s not supposed to be easy, Cody,” Caleb said with a somber look in his green eyes, “Letting go, that is. If it were, we’d all be good at it. This is just a chapter for you, it’s not the ending point.”
“If your whole life is hinged to that shirt, then maybe you need to live more,” Scoffed Gerrara as he passed and exited the dormitory.
Well, he knew one person that wasn’t getting the jersey.
“Don’t listen to him, Cody, you know he’s just jealous not to be on the team,” Caleb rolled his eyes.
Cody looked back down to the shirt, tracing a finger over the golden fabric that spelled out his last name, matching the three other Fetts in this room. Though he thought it was silly when they were really little and their parents would dress them up in the same outfits, now, he could see why they did it. It made them look like the unit that they were.
“I’ll figure it out,” He sighed, still finding the idea of parting with the jersey very difficult. Most people thought this through to some degree, especially those that didn’t have an easy answer lined up. He slung it over his shoulder, walking to class while raking his brain to figure out who he should give it to.
Breakfast was expectedly a bit of a mad house on the last day of classes. Not because anyone was in a rush to go complete any last minute assignments, but because it meant that the onset of summer had arrived. The last hurdle of the year would be exams and then underclassmen could be free from school for a couple of months.
Satine had never been thrilled about the end of classes, but she’d always looked forward to the time free with her family and friends back home. However, now that there was a finality to her final day of classes in Hogwarts, she found herself quite nostalgic over every rapidly passing moment. Each class today would be her last of that subject in this setting. She’d prepared handwritten cards for each professor, thanking them for their dedication and patience through the years. She hadn’t even realized that the homework she did last night for Charms was the last she’d ever complete and submit. The detention she’d given to Sebulba for dumping his omelet on a second year could have been the last time she ever issued one at this hour (though she did have strong doubts about that judging by the feral energy in the room).
This would be the last breakfast before class with friends.
Oh, that thought nearly made her cry if her somber moment hadn’t been interrupted by the obnoxious way Aayla and Stass dropped their bags dangerously close to her bowl of oatmeal.
“I can’t believe that arsehole !” Aayla said, clearly heated about something or someone.
“I don’t think he meant anything by it, Aayla,” Stass shot Satine a pleading look that told her this line of frustration had been going on for quite some time.
“That’s the problem, isn’t it?” She fired, clutching her fork a bit too tight for comfort, “He doesn’t even know he’s messing with my head!”
“What are you on about?” Satine asked.
“Eeth Koth, the know-it-all bastard we call our Quidditch captain!” She groaned, finding distaste in even mentioning his name, “You know he gave his Quidditch jersey to that ditzy Koyi Mateil?”
“What’s wrong with Koyi?” Stass asked. “I thought you were always pretty unified with the other twi’leks.”
“She’s bad for the brand. Not only is she a rich girl who cheats on tests, but she’s also someone who doesn’t know anything about quidditch.” She huffed, “Her and Miraj Scintel are the sort who have been clambering for upperclassmen jerseys just for the clout.”
“Clout?” Satine wrinkled her nose, “I thought you were supposed to give the jersey to someone you cared about as tradition and to show the players are moving on.”
“That is the intent,” Stass nodded, “But being in the know enough to wear someone’s jersey today? Kind of a big deal.”
“That’s so juvenile,” She crossed her arms. “The only person it should matter to is the wearer and the person who gave it them.”
“Kinda easy for you to say as you’re wearing the Kenobi jersey as we speak,” Aayla snarked as she gestured to the slightly loose-fitting Ravenclaw jersey that Satine wore on top of her regular uniform. “I’m just saying. It makes a statement.”
“Well, I don’t care about any of that,” Satine looked around her, catching the eyes of more people than she expected, who had eyed her with a sense of awe that needn’t be there, “And neither should you.”
“Yeah, well you also hate the sport,” Stass laughed, “That doesn’t exactly add to your enthusiasm.”
“No, certainly not,” She agreed and looked to Aayla, “Remind me why you’re upset again!”
“Because he didn’t give it to me!”
“So,” Satine pressed. Last she checked, nothing had happened between Aayla and Eeth at the dance, nor did Aayla want anything to happen. Since then, the subject had mostly cooled down and they’d returned to normal.
“So, I was ready to give mine to him!” She stabbed at her eggs, “It’s only right! He’s the one who asked me to be his stupid date and then his stupid valentine!”
“Do you know how embarrassing that is?” She asked, “Besides, I’m pretty sure it was a big joke.”
“But… What if it wasn’t?” Stass asked slowly, “What if you're the only one who has been acting like this is a big platonic joke?”
“And Eeth might actually like you.” Satine finished.
“Then he’s even more of a fool than I thought!” She said, “I mean, really, who waits seven years to make a move?”
“Good morning, ladies,” Obi-Wan said cheerily as he dropped into the seat beside Satine, “How are we this morning?”
“Nevermind,” Aayla snorted and Satine shot her a withering look while Stass could only laugh. Ben, for his part, looked between the three of them with alert blue eyes, visibly confused to what he walked into.
“Is everything okay?” He asked.
“No, absolutely not.” Aayla said.
“That’s a bit of a loaded question,” Stass admitted.
“Yes, please pay them no mind,” Satine said and took a bite of her toast.
After surveying all three girls, he sighed, “Good, I thought my morning was going a bit too smooth for comfort.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know why Eeth Koth is a no good prick, would you?” Aayla asked with the casual aplomb of someone asking how the weather was.
Ben spluttered as he sipped at his pumpkin juice, nearly spilling on one of his best robes, which Satine had noticed he’d pulled out for the last day of classes.
“Aayla!” Satine chastised.
“What?” She shrugged, “I’m in need of the male perspective and Kenobi is about as close as it gets at the moment.”
“I- Hey!” He furrowed his brow.
“Trust me when I say in this moment, that’s a compliment,” Aayla added sagely.
“I’m not sure I chose the right seat this morning,” He muttered as he built up a plate of breakfast foods, quietly pardoning himself as he reached across from Satine to take a cinnamon bun. Before he could debate over it mentally in his head, Satine went ahead and grabbed him a blueberry muffin as well. The last time he thought too much about it, the food disappeared.
“Just as I’m not sure Eeth Koth chose the right person to give his Quidditch jersey to,” She said, “But we all have to live with our mistakes, don’t we?”
“Ah, that’s what this is about,” He said and looked to immediately regret it when Aayla pounded a fist against the table. Even Stass looked interested at Obi-Wan’s apparent knowledge of the subject.
“So he did say something this morning.” Aayla said.
“You must understand that I can’t just spill the secrets of the boy’s dormitory,” He explained, “Eeth is my friend and everything that was and wasn’t said was in confidence. A confidence that I, as his teammate and friend, respect.”
“We’re supposed to be friends too!” Aayla urged and then pointed to Satine, “And not only that, but I’ve got control over whether or not Satine will ever kiss you ever again!”
“No, you don’t.” Satine said, “Ben you don’t have to say anything to them. This is all silly nonsense anyway.”
“Treachery is silly nonsense?” Aayla gasped, “Betrayal? Mutiny? Are those silly words to you, Satine?”
“Okay, you need to calm down,” Stass said, placing a hand on their friend’s shoulder, “Damn, maybe you do like Koth.”
“I do not!”
“It kind of seems like you might,” Obi-Wan weighed in, “But you know, you don’t have to give your jersey to someone you fancy.”
“You did,” She crossed her arms and looked to Satine, who really was tired of this conversation, and felt that their last breakfast before class could be served to better purposes.
“Well, yes,” Obi-Wan smiled a bit shyly at her, briefly appreciating the view of Satine in his jersey before turning back to Aayla, “But many people give it to close friends, family, professors even.”
“If only Kit were still here,” Aayla said softly.
“Way to go, Kenobi,” Stass grimaced.
“Just, don’t play into the headgames,” Obi-Wan said, “It should be about who you want to give it to and who will wear it proudly, not out of some weird jealousy scheme.”
“Wait a second, is Koth doing this to make me jealous?”
“No, I didn’t mean-”
“But you kinda did,” Aayla said, “Oh that jerk .”
“Once again, that’s not what I was saying. I just meant that you seemed a bit jealous-” Obi-Wan desperately tried to course correct and Satine rested a hand on his back.
“Give it up, dear, quit while you’re ahead.” She said.
“He is so not getting this jersey now,” Laughed Aayla, “Well, the jokes on him. If he wants to give his away to someone who’s nothing more than a pretty face, that’s fine by me. I’ll give mine to someone I care about.”
“That is what I was trying to say,” Obi-Wan said.
“Yes, I know, but she’s realizing that on her own now,” Satine added as they watched Aayla connect the dots and somehow twist in her head that giving her jersey to someone meaningful would be the biggest revenge of all. It just went to show that even the brightest of Ravenclaws failed to see the forest through the trees at times.
“Here, Stass!” She handed the blue fabric over dramatically to their friend, who looked completely and utterly dumbfounded.
“What?” She looked at her with wide eyes, “Me?”
“Yeah, I mean you’re my best friend,” She smiled, “You’ve been there for me through thick and thin ever since we fought over bedspace in first year.”
“I still say you cheated during that coin toss,” Stass commented.
“I’ll never tell,” She smirked, “But anyway, I can’t think of anyone else who would wear it better, especially not that slug, Koth.”
“Thank you, Aayla,” She said with a bit of a watery smile, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” She said and then frowned after they were staring at each other for a long beat, “Don’t get any snot on it, okay?”
“And the moment is ruined,” Satine beamed at the two of them before reaching across the table and squeezing Aayla’s hand, “I think you chose the better person, if you ask me.”
“Me too,” Obi-Wan smiled, “Don’t tell Eeth I said that though.”
Cody hadn’t bothered going to breakfast that morning, instead opting to take a walk around the pitches, just giving himself a few lasting moments of peace before he had to come to terms with this rite of passage that he hadn’t realized he’d been dreading.
“Hey captain!” A voice from several meters back called and he turned to see the Head Boy and Head Girl jogging to catch up with him. Kenobi’s robe billowed in the warm summer breeze while Kryze expectedly wore Kenobi’s Quidditch jersey. As much as he loved seeing them, it did serve as a reminder of his own indecision.
Still, he stopped and waited for them. It would be impossible to get away even if he was the most athletic of the three of them.
“What makes you think you can skip breakfast on the last day of classes?” Satine admonished, though her tone was as light as the day around them. She watched him through careful and understanding eyes, suspecting that something was amiss.
“I just wanted to get some fresh air,” he shrugged and looked up at the magnificent hoops that towered above them, so high from here that it looked like the clouds might drift through their openings. He remembered standing here as a first year student with ambitions and dreams that stretched even higher. He’d been so hopeful, so excited, and hadn’t considered a time where he wouldn’t be wearing the crimson jersey that was slung over his shoulder.
“Taking it all in?” Kenobi asked with equal kindness as his girlfriend.
“Yeah, something like that,” He said quietly.
At first, he expected a lecture of some nature, as it wasn’t completely out of line for the two of them. Then again, even after seven years, it wasn’t impossible for this quick friends to truly surprise him.
“May we join you?” Kenobi asked.
“Yeah, of course, I don’t own the field,” He added, trying to maintain some levity. He was already feeling so heavy at heart and didn’t want them to experience the same thing.
“I would argue differently,” Satine said, “I’ve watched all your matches, after all.”
He smiled, thinking about how much he felt like his truest self when he was alongside his team, playing the sport he loved, hovering above an energetic crowd. Even when the conditions were dreadful, Cody only saw it as more of a challenge.
They walked for a while, mostly in silence, their hands dangling at their sides as they made their way around the perimeter of the field. It was a bit smaller than a professional scale, but it served its purpose in teaching children the crucial aspects of the game. He couldn’t help but revel in the memory of the first time he’d ever actually played. He’d failed miserably, at least from a technical standpoint. However, he’d scored more than any other underclassmen due to being a bit of a show-off back then.
It had been the best moment of his life. Well, save for the day he got captain. That day still played as the memory when he conjured his patronus for class.
He didn’t see how it could be topped, as it was the culmination of all his ambitions. Even if he’d been a bit of a dick about it, perhaps Gerrara was onto something. Maybe he did have to live more.
“You know, this isn’t the end for you,” Satine said, “There’s going to be plenty of life and Quidditch in store for you.”
“But not with this,” He said, the red fabric balled up in his hands, “And I know it’s kind of lame, but-”
“-It is not lame!” She asserted, a level of familiar fierceness overcoming her, “You know, just this morning, I very nearly started crying in my breakfast simply because I didn’t take last night to treasure that it was the last time I’d be doing homework. I love learning and education, Cody, but even for me that’s a stretch.”
“And you know, as I was fastening my Head Boy pin today, I couldn’t help but think about how my time in the role is waning and if I really was the best I could be,” Kenobi said, fiddling with the blue pin ever so slightly, “Or how my last patrol is coming up.”
“So, we’re all lame,” Cody deduced.
“No, we’re just feeling the shifting plates beneath us,” Satine explained, “It’s totally normal to experience growing pains, to be unsure of the future and afraid of letting go. But the most important thing to note is that you’re never alone in doing it.”
He looked at each of them, so earnest and wise in their own ways. He used to think that there would come a point where he would simply feel stupid or inferior parading around with two of the smartest kids in school. However, whether it was from his own strengths or their humility, he never felt that way. At the end of the day, they were all going through the same thing, and even when their paths took them in different directions, he knew it would be worth it.
He took in a deep breath then released it, “I never thought I’d grow up to be so sappy.”
“I did,” Kenobi smiled, “Ever since that first match where you saved the bandages they gave you when you busted your head open.”
“Your first Quidditch injury is a big deal!” He said and then frowned, “What ever happened to those?”
“Yeah big mystery,” Satine coughed before leading them along, “I don’t think anyone would blame you for not participating in this tradition, you know.”
“But I’m the captain,” He said, “And the only graduating member of the team. Deep down, I want to do this, but it’s also about who . I’m not just going to toss it at some Quidditch groupie, you know?”
“Many appreciate that care and consideration,” Obi-Wan said smartly and though Cody didn’t understand the context of Satine’s exasperated look, he didn’t bother himself with whatever debate they’d found themselves in that day.
“I’d give it to you, Kenobi, but you’re kind of the enemy.” Cody said.
“Gee, thanks, our friendship has always meant so much to me too,” He replied sarcastically, which Cody gave him a playful shove to the side. Kenobi fell almost immediately right back in step with them as they walked back to the castle.
“Come off it,” He said, and then looked to Satine, “And you’re obviously spoken for.”
“No one speaks for me, thank you,” She stuck her chin up, “But if I could wear two at the same time, you know that I would.”
“And as I said to the guys earlier, my brothers have their own!” He sighed.
Satine frowned, stopping in her place, “ All of them?”
“Yeah, you’ve seen the team,” He said, “There are rumors everywhere that I play favoritism since half the starting team are Fetts.”
“Cody,” Kenobi shook his head, catching on to whatever Kryze was trying to spell out for him, “It doesn’t have to be a student. It can be anyone. A professor, coach, staff member.”
Cody stared at both of them like they’d truly lost it before the dots connected in his head and he snapped his fingers together.
“Oh!”
Ninety Nine had slept in uncharacteristically late that morning. Soft, summer days had that effect on him and he couldn’t be upset that they were approaching better weather. Though he’d lived in the UK his entire life, he did grow tired of the dreary days that came in plenty. He yawned and stretched, ready to prepare himself for the day.
He’d be staying at the castle all summer, cleaning and readying it for the next batch of eager young wizards who would be arriving come September. So, there was really no rush to wake up early in the month of June. It was a much more relaxed schedule.
He’d always fancied himself a heavy sleeper, which in many ways was a blessing, seeing as he grew up with so many little brothers running around. So, it was to no surprise that he missed the knock that must have come at his door.
Sitting on his front step was a package wrapped in brown paper and twine. It was addressed to him in quick handwriting without any direct indication of who it had been from. He grabbed it by the string, dropping it on his coffee table before getting to work cutting the twine. As it slowly unraveled before him, he removed a Gryffindor team Quidditch jersey.
“What in the-” It was just then that he noticed the letter that had been dropped to the ground in his haste.
“Dear Ninety-Nine,
Today is a day where graduating Quidditch players give their jerseys to someone they care about. It serves as a reminder that though our time playing Quidditch for Hogwarts is done, we carry the memories we made through the people who got us to where we are. There is no one more deserving than you.
So, while it’s usually only for the day, I want you to keep it for good, because you’ve always been a part of the squad.
Love,
Cody”
His eyes had grown too blurry to read thoroughly and had to scan the page several times before he understood the message in full. It was too girly to be Cody’s handwriting, as his was notoriously atrocious, but the sentiment was still there. The heart was still obvious.
He picked up the jersey again and tugged it over his head, something he never imagined he would get the chance to do.
The first thing that came to his mind, was how terribly it smelled.
He coughed, “Oh, Cody,” He smelled his armpits, getting a proper whiff of dirt and body odor before immediately pulling it off.
“We’ll be washing this first.”
Obi-Wan had tried not to allow himself to grow too much melancholy over their approaching departure from Hogwarts, even if there were plenty of signs lingering in just about every direction he turned. All the seventh years were starting to develop “graduation goggles” as Cody had referred to it. Obi-Wan, for the most part, remained level. To be sad something was ending meant that it was lucky to be had at all.
Still, as he gathered up his belongings and stowed them away in his trunk, leaving just a few sets of clothes to get him through the final couple of days, he could not help but take a quiet moment to himself, letting it sink in that this would be the last time he packed to leave Hogwarts for the summer.
It did not sting as deeply as it could have, for he was also reminded that he would not be returning to cold marble floors and stone walls, but to a series of adventures at the Fett household. He would only receive more freedom, even if a small part of him feared what that could mean. By large, though, he was excited for what came next.
It was only when he sifted through the variety of books he’d collected over the year, as he did every year, he felt a pang at his chest. Most were in relation to the TriWizard Tournament or magical restraining orders. However, there was a fair few that had allowed him to escape into a new world when such a thing was necessary.
It dawned on him then that he hadn’t read nearly as much as an extracurricular in the past few months. Logically, this was due to the tightening time crunch that two tasks, near death experiences, and NEWTs could bring. However, he also knew it was because he did not need the escapism anymore, not in the direction he was going. That was liberating in its own right, and while he would always read likely a bit too much, it would be purely for enjoyment.
“Knock knock,” A perky voice interrupted his train of thought and he looked up to see Satine standing in the doorway of his bedroom, a golden glow of light pouring in from the hallway behind her.
“What are you doing here?” He asked, not at all displeased to ever be offered the opportunity to see her, especially as she practically lit up at the sight of him. However, there were rules forbidding this: two students of opposite genders in any sleeping quarters alone together.
“Head Girl business,” She stated and for a moment, he straightened, just in case anything serious had transpired, but her own smile gave her away, “I request the assistance of the Head Boy for library duty.”
Ah, how in the blazes could he forget? Every year, he and Satine offered their assistance to Madame Nu to sort through the influx of overdue library books. He and Satine often took guesses about what each book was about by the titles alone, making a fun game of it. It was always a joy to spend time with the wise librarian, not to mention get a closer look at the compendium.
“Do you think she’ll let me touch it this year?” He asked, not caring if he sounded like a child in a candy store. Especially when Satine’s own elation lit her features so beautifully that he could hardly resist crossing the room in two strides and kissing her soundly. He might have, if he wasn’t eagerly awaiting the answer to his question,
“She promised us third year that she would, after you wrote that lengthy proposal about it,” She said, “Personally, I was convinced, so I do hope she holds true to her promise.”
“Well, what are we doing lollygagging then?” He pushed himself to his feet, “We’ve got books to sort!”
“I wasn’t the one daydreaming,” She reminded him.
“I was not daydreaming!” He scoffed, bending down to retrieve some of his collection, “I was organizing while reminiscing!”
“Oh that’s very different,” She teased, a gleam in her eyes as she stepped further into the room to look at the books in his arms, eyes scanning over each title before piquing with interest at a book towards the center of the pile. Skillfully, without displacing any of the others, she removed it and rolled it around her hands, “I was wondering what happened to this!”
Upon catching what she’d referred to, Obi-Wan felt his cheeks stain pink. Pride and Prejudice , the book she’d gifted him just before the start of the school year. He’d intended on sharing his notes with her, except for one, which still felt a bit embarrassing looking back on it.
“Well, you know I’ve read it,” He said, moving to take it back, but ultimately failing as she slipped out of reach and flipped it open, “Is now really the time for this? Madame Nu is expecting us.”
“Up until I reminded you, you’d forgotten,” She said archly and then nudged him as she took a seat at the foot of his bed, “What’s the problem? You know I like reading your notes.”
Realizing there would be no talking her out of this, Obi-Wan did the one thing he could think to do: he didn’t think at all. So, when he swiped the book from her hands and made a run for it, he hadn’t anticipated the potential quickness of her reflexes as she instinctively stuck a leg out to trip him, sending him tumbling to the floor with a heavy thunk.
Satine leapt into action from there, climbing on top of him in a duel for the book. Suddenly quite grateful that they didn’t have an audience, since Satine crawling up the length of Obi-Wan’s form in the middle of his bedroom floor until she was straddling him, was hardly becoming for anyone, but especially the Head Boy and Girl. This was all good and fine when they were children, but now that they saw each other in a different light, it added another element of awkwardness on top. One that caused Obi-Wan’s pulse to increase dramatically.
It was for his own distraction at their compromising position that she was able to wiggle the book from his clutches.
“Okay, sir, what are you hiding from me?” She breathed deeply, her own cheeks bright red, and he was helpless as he watched her flip through the pages. There were a lot of regular notes, commenting on the archetypes, foreshadowing, wordplay, and more.
None of that was incriminating, though and it wasn’t until she looked back at the cover, near her own inscription, that she found what she’d unknowingly been looking for.
“Satine,” She read aloud, “In typical fashion, I return this book to you not with answers, but a question. Just one this time, though. I have scoured over every line, every word, of this book, but truthfully it is being around you every day that has allowed me to understand its meaning. Its true meaning. You see, it is you who makes me happier than I deserve- a fact I can only be content with should you afford me the opportunity to try and return the favor, regardless how long it may take or how hard it could be. Will you do me the honor of being my date to the Yule Ball?”
When her eyebrows shot to her hairline, he answered her silent question, “I had planned to give this to you before the first task.”
“Stupid Ventress,” She muttered in a low voice and they hung in suspended silence that started to unnerve him.
“So er… Will you?” He asked tentatively, trying for levity.
She lowered the book, her eyes wide before narrowing and for a moment, he wondered if she was angry with him for not giving this to her sooner. That didn’t seem to be the case when she bent down and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. If it was, it was an angry reaction he hadn’t seen from her yet.
“You’re an idiot,” She sighed, shaking her head. “Why wouldn’t you want me to read this?”
“Because I don’t know, isn’t it a bit embarrassing?”
“How?” She furrowed her brow, “Don’t you know how long I agonized whether or not you read this? Whether or not you got the hint? I underlined the particularly romantic bits.”
“I know, I thought that was adorable,” He couldn’t help but smile, “Do you truly find me as infuriating as Mr. Darcy?”
“Absolutely,” She said vehemently, “Especially right now!”
“Hey, it’s a memory of a flubbed attempt at properly asking you,” He shrugged, very difficult to do while lying beneath her still. She shifted off of him so she said beside him on the floor and he sat up, running a hand through his hair, “Plus, a part of me thought you would have been displeased with defacing the book like that.”
She rolled her eyes and whacked him gently in the arm with it, “I’d have absolutely melted at this . I never needed fanfare or public displays of affection. I just needed you to understand the message I was trying to send.”
He felt a bit of pride at that- even if it hadn’t gone according to plans, it was nice to know that he knew her the way he thought he did.
“Well, I heard it,” He said, “Loud and clear. Even if a bit too late.”
“You weren’t too late,” She conceded, eyeing him softly, she nudged him in the ribs, “Almost, but not quite.”
“That is always good to hear,” He said with a nod, leaning back on his hands.
“So, you really loved it, hm?” She smirked, emulating his position beside him, “It seems you’ve analyzed and studied it to death, which I’m always hoping for. It provides for better discussion and debate.”
“Personally, no book or tome could ever compare to how much more enjoyable it is to analyze and study you,” He smiled, feeling that warm and gooey feeling that was starting to become a regular occurence washing over him by looking into her eyes, “Because I learn far more from you than I have from any book.”
“Obi-Wan Kenobi,” Her voice was grave, very serious considering she regarded him with enough heat to kindle a fire, “Are you telling me you love me more than reading?”
“I am,” He said, feeling the severity of his statement. In a sense, it betrayed how a younger version of him strongly felt, but that didn’t make it any less true. It should have been startling, but it was anything but that.
“I feel the same,” She said it as though she was just realizing that for herself and didn’t leave any more space between them as she kissed him- a difficult feat when they were both smiling so wide it almost hurt. “Though we don’t have to tell Madame Nu that later, right?”
“It can stay between us,” Obi-Wan laughed, holding her face in his hands and surveying every feature, “Can’t let anyone know we’ve gone too soft.”
“Yeah, I’m sure they’d never know otherwise,” She rolled her eyes again, but accepted another quick kiss. She looked a bit emotional still as she stood, extending a hand out to him, “Come now, Mr. Darcy, I do believe we’ve got some important business to attend to.”
“Yes indeed, dear Elizabeth,” He took her hand and climbed to his feet, “And though I yearn for yours more, I will be touching that compendium.”
NEWTs had been… invigorating. All the time Obi-Wan had spent working up towards his goals and then finally getting to show off all he knew, could there be anything better. Tests were always something to reach for. A simple way to know just how much they’d managed to learn in a set amount of time. Numerical value, letter value, logically devised. So it of course was a bittersweet moment as he handed off his final essay to Professor Windu before exiting the room.
He’d finished first, went ahead and triple checked his spelling and grammar, but there had been no real reason to further put off the inevitable. It wasn’t long before he was joined by Satine who looked equally dejected.
“I don’t know Ben,” She sighed leaning her head on his shoulder, “But I think that might have been the best damned essay I’ve ever written, and it’s going to be my last.”
“I’m sure it’s lovely,” He leaned his head on top of hers, “I can’t wait to read it when we get them back over the summer.”
“What about you,” She looked up at him through golden eyelashes, “Did you remember the sources you wanted to cite?”
“Yes of course,” He sighed, “Of course it’s not necessary, but how could I not reference the best damn wand mechanics paper ever written.”
“It’s a good thing you have a perfect memory,” She reminded him, “I couldn’t get away with remembering anything verbatim.”
“They’re not expecting it,” He assured her, “I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who’s doing it.”
“You’d better not beat me in the last minutes here,” Satine moved her head up to fix him with a faux glare, “I didn’t work this hard for 7 years just to fall behind you right at the end.”
“Oh please,” He rolled his eyes, “You’re infinitely more clever in your word choice.”
It was then that the bells rang from the clock tower and the doors opened wide. The Head Boy and Girl stepped back to the wall as excited chattering students with a little bit too much pent up energy rushed past. Cody amongst them, although he waded through the sea of seventh years to greet them with a wide gleeful grin.
“Now that that’s all finally over with-” He paused, eyeing their more sullen mood, “What did you forget to dot your ‘i’s or something?”
“That was our final test Cody,” Satine clutched Obi-Wan’s arm.
“Yeah? I know? Let’s go celebrate, yeah?” Cody threw a thumb behind him where most were rushing towards Hogwarts grounds.
“I’m going to miss them,” Obi-Wan gave a mournful look towards where Windu was leaving with stacks of parchment.
“ You’re going to miss them,” Satine let go of him and gave him a hard look, “ You get to take classes again next year.”
“You know it’s not the same,” He threw a hand towards the great doors, “These are standardized .”
“You’re both lunatics ,” Cody matched his tone with heavy sarcasm, “This is supposed to be the best part of leaving school behind.”
“Yes, but if I learn about the Banshee Barricade, how will I know if I get something incorrect?” Satine grabbed Cody’s arms to better shake some sense into him, literally.
“Don’t worry,” Obi-Wan put a gentle hand on her arm, “We could always still learn together.”
“But there will be no reason to study!” Satine realized in a near panicked voice while Cody just pressed his hands to his face.
But a thought occurred to Obi-Wan and he looked at Satine carefully, “What if… I made you a test?”
“You?” Satine put a hand over her heart, “You would do that for me?”
“I mean it seems only logical, if we can’t get them any other way-”
“That’s so kind of you,” Satine wrapped her arms around him and pressed a firm kiss to his cheek. Obi-Wan felt his cheeks go red, but he still wrapped his arms around her, “I’ll do the same for you of course, brilliant . What a brilliant idea!”
“I love you,” Obi-Wan said reverently.
“Oh I adore you,” Satine squeezed him so hard he might pop, “You’re absolutely brilliant you know!”
“I’d say you’re both absolutely delusional,” Cody was watching them with wary caution and at a distance that might save him from a creature with rabies, but not from two Ravenclaws.
“You sure you don’t want in?” Satine teased, “We could send you some by mail!”
“ Please no,” Cody begged.
“Oh but Cody learning never has to stop!” Obi-Wan added.
“Yeah in my nightmares maybe,” Cody rolled his eyes, but their friend didn’t complain as they continued to come up with ideas on the way outside. Nor did any of them complain when they settled down in the grass buying a couple butterbeers off Hondo to celebrate. After all, they did finish their NEWTs, they did make it through the year, and they certainly had all survived to tell the tale.
While usually quite elated once finals and exams were over for the school year, Anakin couldn’t help but feel a tad gloomy as he looked around him at all the faces that had made his Hogwarts experience what it was and how many of them wouldn’t be returning come fall. Though September felt ages away, he knew better than that, as he already couldn’t believe he was on the precipice of his fourth year. He’d told Rex he would catch up with him in celebration later that evening, but for once decided upon finding a quiet spot to clear his thoughts.
There were many parties going on that night, all of the unofficial variety in all four houses and while Anakin had been invited to all of them, he’d experienced enough excitement for one school year. After much wandering around and greeting various ghosts as he passed, he situated himself at the top of the North Tower, one leg strewn over the ledge as he leaned against the side wall.
Professor Sifo Dyas wouldn’t mind, and even if he would, classes were officially out of session and the only thing ahead of them was graduation for the upperclassmen and the train ride home for the rest of them. Those who wished to stay for the ceremony could do so, as long as they had transportation back home. Anakin had decided to skip the train this time for a number of obvious reasons. The Kenobis wouldn’t be present, but Rex ensured he could go home with them.
In his hands was an official envelope stamped and signed from the Ministry of Magic, no doubt from Valorum’s desk before he’d decided to resign. He’d actually received a number of letters, many from various columnists and sponsors asking how he’d managed to defeat Dooku or the Eye of Webbish Bog at such a young age. Now he had the (now-former) Minister of Magic writing to him. Not long ago, that had seemed like the golden ticket to finding his mother, but as he came up with dead ends and more questions, he’d found that quite the opposite.
Still, it was difficult to come to terms with opening the letter. It felt in a sense like giving up, especially if his suspicions did prove correct. He knew this shouldn’t change anything, because in spite of everything, he did still firmly believe his mother was out there. No one knew her like he did, not in the ways that matter.
He may not have known much about her time at Hogwarts, but he did know her heart, and he knew she would never ever just pick up and leave him without the slightest bit of notice. She wouldn’t have left him at all, unless there was a threat so big she didn’t want to drag it back to him.
Yeah, that possibility did sound like his mum. She’d been selfless and giving his entire life, dedicating everything to him.
But none of that was credible to the Ministry of Magic or even muggle law enforcement. Wizards viewed that she’d abandoned their world and her entire family. To muggles, they saw the narrative that was painted for them- a single mother who was behind on rent in a dingy part of town.
He took a deep breath and resisted the urge to crumple the letter in his hands and throw it into the furnace. That wouldn’t do him any good on the slim chance there was anything useful in it.
“Anakin?” A soft but welcome voice called from behind him. “What are you doing up here?”
He turned, looking over his shoulder to see Obi-Wan, who had a worried crease between his brows. He was dressed in prim Ravenclaw fashion, most likely for the last time, and his Head Boy button glinted in the moonlight. He looked so much older than he did before, wiser and ready for the coming future. Anakin could never imagine being ready for change, especially after everything that had happened so far.
Unless that change involved things returning to the same, which his mother in one way or another already taught him not to be possible.
“Oh, hey,” He said, not sure what else to say and he didn’t bother asking how Obi-Wan had found him, because he always seemed to, “Just taking a minute before going to watch Cody do a keg stand with butterbeer.”
“That does require quite the stomach to bear witness to,” Obi-Wan chuckled quietly before wordlessly sliding next to him on the ledge, their legs dangling and while untouching, he could feel the security that Obi-Wan’s presence often brought. It gave Anakin the courage to silently pass the letter over to him after a pregnant pause passed between them.
Looking down at the envelope and then back at Anakin, he raised his eyebrows in surprise before understanding what was expected of him and began carefully peeling the tab of the envelope. It didn’t rip beneath Obi-Wan’s touch; he was far too gentle for that. Instead, the clear seal popped off with ease and he removed the neatly folded letter.
Blue-gray eyes quickly scanned the page before reading it out loud, before giving Anakin a guarded look that asked if he really wanted to hear this right now and Anakin only nodded. It was better to hear it from Obi-Wan than anyone else- even himself.
He cleared his throat before beginning.
“Dear Mr. Skywalker,
Upon further investigation and thorough examination of case file #19051999, the disappearance of Shmi Skywalker, our Auror department reports that there are no signs of foul play presented, including the possibility of magical motive. While this case will not be permanently closed, it is no longer in active consideration.
We have taken appropriate measures and communicated the information we have received to the local muggle authorities, whom we have no doubt will be thorough in their search. I am writing you personally with my condolences on your loss and do hope that Ms. Skywalker chooses to return someday.
Please reach out to the Aurors should any additional information regarding possible magic-related evidence arises.
I wish you all the best in your search and believe you have quite a future in our world someday.
Sincerely,
Finis Valorum
Minister of Magic”
They sat in relative quiet for a long period of time. Obi-Wan seemed to be weighing on just what to say and continued staring at the letter or more accurately, the envelope with the seal on it. Anakin didn’t know how he was feeling.
“He must have written this before he resigned,” Obi-Wan ran his finger over the seal, his frown obscured by the bright moon, “I’m so sorry, Anakin.”
“It’s alright,” He sighed, “I can’t say I’m shocked by this. He didn’t even know who she was when I spoke to him. He probably just wrote this to clear his own conscience.”
“Maybe,” He nodded and then opened the letter, reading it over again, “There is one thing that comes from this, I suppose.”
“What’s that?” Anakin asked, peering over his shoulder to try and see what he was seeing.
“Case numbers aren’t released to the public,” He said, tapping the parchment, “Especially not with how tight lipped they’ve been about your mother’s disappearance.”
“Maybe they really do believe nothing related to magic or wizards happened to her,” Anakin said, even if he still had strong doubts that it wasn’t someone from the wizard world.
“It took them quite some time to make that assessment,” Obi-Wan pursed his lips, “I would be very interested to see what’s on that file.”
“They won’t tell me anything,” Anakin said glumly before looking up and over at Obi-Wan suddenly, realization dawning on him, “Are you still trying to be an Auror?”
“That’s certainly in the plans,” He said, “If they’ll have me.”
“Oh, they better,” Anakin said, “It sounds like a one-horse show over there. They need some brains! And I need someone I can actually trust on the inside.”
“There is something wrong about this,” Obi-Wan said, “And while I cannot promise the results you desire nor anything immediate, I swear to you I will do my best.”
“That’s more than anyone else has done for me all year, Obi-Wan,” Anakin said, “I mean, look at this letter. Could it be less personal? I’m surprised he even spelled our names right.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Obi-Wan said quietly, still looking at the seal, “Would you mind if I held onto this? I’d like to develop a file on my own.”
“Go right ahead, I was going to burn the damn thing before you got here,” Anakin admitted and then smiled at his mentor as he watched the gears already turning in his head. He hadn’t gotten his own acceptance letter yet, but he was already there. He was perfect for the position- everything an Auror should be.
And Anakin realized then that he wanted to be that way too.
“I can’t believe it used to bother me that you’re always saving me,” Anakin joked, “It’s becoming quite useful.”
“You are more than capable of saving yourself, my friend,” He said with a wry smile, “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
“Some might say I give myself too much of it,” He snorted.
“Well, some things could use improvement, as it could with everyone,” Obi-Wan nodded sagely, “Namely, remembering to comb your hair and writing your name on your homework.”
“At least I’m doing the homework now.” Anakin retorted.
“Yes, that is an upgrade I suppose,” Obi-Wan pinched his chin, “Not sure it’s very useful if you aren’t taking credit for your own hard work, though.”
“I’ll work on it,” He waved a hand at him, “But you know I wouldn’t have made it this far if it weren’t for you.”
“Anakin, you are a very bright wizard, even if you don’t always properly apply yourself,” Obi-Wan said, and at first it sounded like a lecture he’d doled out time and time again during their three years of knowing each other, “But you have taught me just as much, if not more, than I’ve taught you.”
“I feel I’m much braver after knowing you,” Obi-Wan admitted, “As well as a bit more laid back than I’ve been in previous years.”
“You’ve been stricter ?”
This time, Obi-Wan outwardly laughed, “Yes, do ask Cody and Satine how rigid I used to be in the past. I’m sure they’ve got much more to say on the subject than I ever could. But everything changed when you came around. You challenged me, made me think outside of myself, and gave me something to be courageous for. I’m incredibly sorry if it ever came across that I doubted you.”
“No, I said it before!” Anakin said hastily, “I was being a-”
“-It was myself I doubted, always,” Obi-Wan continued, looking out to the stars, “And that’s still something I’m working on.”
“Still,” Anakin said in a quiet voice, “I don’t know what I’m going to do without you here. You’ve kind of made this place for me.”
“And you for me,” Obi-Wan smiled, “I’m certainly for the better thanks to being Anakin Skywalker’s mentor, but now we move on and I go off to pursue this quest of becoming an Auror and hopefully a good one at that while you make this place your own.”
“I’ll do my best,” Anakin echoed his previous statement, “I don’t want to fail you.”
“You could never fail me,” He promised, “It is I who could fail you.”
“Nonsense,” Anakin shook his head, “But now that you’re not going to be around and you won’t be my mentor anymore, what does that mean for us?”
“I suppose we’ll have no choice but to be friends,” Obi-Wan said with a sly smile, “But do be careful, because I’m just as much of a nag to my friends. If not more.”
“Yeah, I’m sure Cody and Satine have plenty to say on that too,” Anakin smiled, feeling a bit fuller and a bit better about the days that would follow. Obi-Wan would never really be gone, especially not when he needed him.
“Satine! You made it!” Padmé rushed over to the Head Girl.
“Padmé, hello!” Satine beamed as she entered Gryffindor’s common room alongside Cody to embrace the ongoing festivities that Hogwarts’ loudest house was throwing in commemoration of the graduating seventh years. Countless red balloons rained down from the ceiling, joining gold and crimson confetti that already obscured the carpet. Music blared loud enough to be heard over the raucous talking and singing that had taken shape since the party had begun. There was a cake that had largely been consumed, which Padmé wouldn’t be going anywhere near since Hondo grabbed a fistfull of cake with his bare hand.
All in all, it was fun, controlled chaos.
“Hi! I was wondering if you’d come here tonight!” She smiled and was extremely grateful that she had. She really didn’t want to wait and ask her question tomorrow, which would undoubtedly be even busier for Satine with graduation and rounding up the younger students. Admittedly, she’d been nervously putting it off.
“Ravenclaw house was doing trivia night!” She said excitedly, “It got a bit out of hand when the category of socio-economic politics came up, but that’s not atypical in the slightest.”
“No, of course not,” Padmé laughed. It was always funny how the houses tended to celebrate exactly as one might imagine.
“Besides, I had to go to Hufflepuff after that since that’s where the good food is,” She said, to which Cody instantly confirmed.
“They had just about every kind of meat you could imagine! And the appetizers were out of this world!” He said excitedly, “Kenobi’s going to lose his mind when he sees the sweets too.”
“Then, I felt obligated to pop into Slytherin’s cocktail hour.” She said, “Very lowkey, but elegant.”
“Stuffy, if you ask me,” Cody rolled his eyes and gestured to several Slytherins that were breaking it down on the makeshift dance floor at the center of the room, “That’s why the fun ones came here.”
“Cocktail hour doesn’t exactly have the same ring to it without actual cocktails either.” Satine smirked, “Despite Hondo’s grandest efforts, I did ensure they were clear of booze. It might be my final night, but that doesn’t mean anything is getting by me.”
“Yeah, if you’re going to be lame, you’ve got to be consistent with it,” Cody patted her on the back before parting from the two girls and going off to greet his Quidditch friends with a loud roar.
Satine rolled her eyes before smiling ruefully, “I’m not sure why I keep him around.”
Cody was now attempting to spin on his head, with all of his brothers egging him on. Even Ninety-Nine was in the mix, still wearing Cody’s jersey for the occasion.
Padmé grinned, “He’s got spirit, that’s for sure.”
“So do you, by the looks of it,” Satine looked at Padmé’s outfit, which had been made special by her friends.
“I better be!” Padmé said, clapping her hands together, “You’re looking at the prototype uniform for Hogwarts’ brand new cheerleading squad!”
“Oh!” Satine’s eyes widened, “I hadn’t heard of that.”
“It’s still in deliberation,” Padmé explained, “But, if all goes as planned, each Quidditch team will have a gaggle of gals cheering them on, instilling spirit!”
“Dressed like that? All year round?” Satine nodded slowly, “Whose idea was this?”
“You’ll never believe this, but Hondo was the one to suggest it!” She said, “And then Professor Saesee Tiin loved it.”
“Hondo suggesting girls in tiny skirts waving pom poms around for all to see?” Satine shook her head, “I can’t exactly say I’m shocked. I’d like to believe Professor Tiin’s enthusiasm comes from a place of school spirit.”
“Regardless, I think it’ll be fun!” She said, “I’ve never loved playing Quidditch, but it’s always a good time to watch. I think it’ll do me well to have a well-rounded batch of extracurriculars anyway if I stand a shot at making Head Girl.”
“I would argue you’re a very strong contender even without it,” Satine said.
“That kind of brings me to what I wanted to ask you, actually,” She said, feeling a bit of nerves creeping up on her, “So, I’ve officially put my hat in the ring to be a prefect.”
“That’s wonderful!” Satine immediately perked up at that.
“Yes, but… and there’s no rush on this, since I believe the deadline is actually in July. Anyway, I wanted to ask if you would maybe consider writing a letter of recommendation for me?”
“Oh, Padmé-” Satine started.
“-You know, since you have such a strong writing voice and have immeasurable respect around here.”
“Okay, but-” She tried again.
“-It would just really mean a lot to me.” Padmé went on, “I know it’s kind of embarrassing, but I really look up to you and-”
“-Padmé!” Satine placed two hands on her shoulders, making her focus, “Breathe!”
She did as the older girl instructed and breathed in and out for a moment.
“I’ve already written you a letter of recommendation,” Satine confirmed, a slow smile growing on her face.
“Wait,” Padmé shook her head, “What? You have? When?”
“Oh, I’ve had it drafted for months,” Satine scoffed, “I had to make sure it was perfect, of course.”
“You- You did?”
“I did,” She said, “And not because you look up to me or because I have any inflated sense of importance, but because I believe you truly deserve the role. I think you will go on to do wonderful things, just by being you.”
“Thank you so much!” Without thinking much on it, Padmé dove into her arms, relieved when she was immediately met with a reciprocated hug and a laugh.
“Don’t mention it,” Satine said, “But remember, it’s not my words that will get you in, but your own merit. I want this school taken care of in my absence.”
“I’ll do my best to be up for the job.”
“I’ve no doubts of that.”
“It’s kind of weird that this will probably be the last time this many Fetts will be in school at the same time as each other,” Rex said as he swept up confetti, “What with Cody graduating.”
“Then, it’s just two more years for us and we’re out,” Echo agreed, looking at Fives while they were all tasked with cleanup duty. It was one of the downsides to having such a great big party. Cleaning up, even with magic, was still a pain. Historically, the seventh years never helped.
“Then, it’s up to Rex to uphold our family’s legacy,” Fives said.
“Until all of our kids show up here,” Cody, on the other hand, did linger around, helping lift some heavier items to make himself useful. If Rex had to guess, he’d say it was to be with them for a bit longer.
“Oh man, then there’s going to be even more of us,” Fives grinned, tossing a bag of trash at the eldest Fett in the room, who caught it without looking and disposed of it.
“I think the new goal would be to accumulate enough to make up all four Quidditch teams,” Cody nodded and though he laughed as he said it, Rex really didn’t think he was completely joking. “Between seven of us? That’s gotta be possible even if everyone doesn’t end up with anyone.”
“Cody, that’s 28 kids without including backups,” Rex winced. “The rest of you can pick up the slack. I’m good.”
“We better get busy then,” Echo teased, to which Cody shoved him to the couch.
“Not until you graduate, you won’t be getting anything .” Cody said, “Dad would kill you where you stand!”
“As he should, since saddling up with imaginary friends is the true sign of insanity to begin with!” Laughed Fives, who was then tackled by Echo, leaving the two of them scrambling on the floor- caught between actual competition and just horsing around. It was no wonder to Rex why very few others participated in the cleanup tonight.
“Are you nervous to leave?” Rex asked for the first time.
“Nah, frankly, I don’t think it’ll be much different than all the other years,” He said, “Kryze is going to be the crier of the bunch, I’m sure. She and Kenobi were already bemoaning the fact that tests are over.”
“And I’m sure they did wonderfully.” Rex chuckled.
“No, they were just upset that they won’t have to take another one,” Cody rolled his eyes in good nature, “Besides, now that I’m certain that the team is going to be okay without me, I think I’m ready to try new things and never wear a tie ever again.”
“I’ll be sure to tease you the moment you do.” Rex said.
“You’re entitled to it, tiny.”
“I’m not tiny!” Rex insisted.
“You’ll always be tiny to me,” Cody’s eyes sparkled, “And without going too soft on you, I’ve enjoyed having you around these past couple of years. I missed you before that. It really feels like we’re all family.”
“We are.” Rex confirmed. “It is strange that I’ll be here all alone when they graduate,” He said quietly to Cody.
“What do you mean?” Cody asked. “You’ll have all your friends!”
“Yeah, I know,” He said, trying to figure out what he meant, because this was truthfully a realization he hadn’t obtained until Fives made his comment earlier. It hadn’t bothered him, per say, because it was only the truth, but as the baby, Rex had always been accompanied by someone . Many of his experiences at Hogwarts were with some sort of pretense. Very few were without previous input or guidance to some degree.
“The last Fett who was on his own at school was Boba during his first few years.” He said, “And then Dad before him.”
“What am I? Roadkill?” Ninety Nine laughed.
“Truthfully, I hadn’t realized you intended on staying that long,” Rex said.
“Brothers never leave each other behind, Rexy,” Ninety Nine smiled in his usual kind way and Rex instantly felt better about the prospect.
“Besides, you’re never alone anyway,” Cody said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I might be busy touring the world, but I’ll never be too busy to show up and beat a bloke’s face in for messing with my little brother!”
“Even if I think Rex stands quite well on his own as it is,” Ninety Nine nodded knowingly and Rex joined him.
“Yeah, I’ll be okay. Like he said, I’m never alone.”
“There you are.” A gentle voice stirred Obi-Wan out of his gaze, which had previously been stretching over the glorious expanse of water and surrounding mountains, appreciating how the golden sun glimmered splotches onto the surface.
Nothing was more impressive than turning to see Satine standing in the entryway of the astronomy tower, dressed in full graduation garbs. She held the cap in her hand, revealing golden locks that were perfectly curled to brush her shoulders. Her robes rivaled his in how particularly pressed and neat they looked and like him, adorned several tassels that indicated both her academic and extracurricular success. One was from a set of only two- the Head Student tassel, which he knew matched his own.
The graduation robes and cap were entirely black and the ties that poked through were similar to those that were given to them for their first day as first years- neutral and no longer indicative of house. However, this was replaced with an ornate navy stole that had the Ravenclaw house crest marked into the bottom.
“You look lovely.” He said with a swelling pride that threatened to expand his chest and she took the opportunity to walk forward, craning her head around to appreciate the magnificent space, before lacing their fingers the moment he was within reach.
“So do you.” She grinned.
“Are they waiting for us?” He asked.
“No, we have a minute,” She said. “I half-expected to find you in Qui-Gon’s old office.”
He nodded, because he’d considered lingering there too, but it didn’t feel quite right. He turned his head back towards the horizon.
“I’m not sure Qui-Gon would have wanted me to lament over the past.” He said carefully, “So, I wanted the highest point possible to finally consider the future.”
Satine nodded and looked out to whatever point he’d been gazing at, resting their still-joined hands on the railing. At first, he wondered if she was going to speak, because he had to admit that he felt content to just be here with her for as long as they were allowed. That was it, though, they would not be students of this school for much longer. Like so many before them, their sun was setting and the school would always remain. They had not defined it, but it had certainly defined them.
“Are you afraid?” She finally asked and it had not been the question he was expecting from her.
He turned to her again, running his thumb over her knuckles, and despite the fact that he would indisputably miss everything this place had given him, answered in resolution, “No.”
She eyed him suspiciously, clearly trying to detect any sense of denial or repressed emotions, which was fair, but Obi-Wan’s heart was not burdened with those weights any longer.
“I’ll miss it.” He said gently, barely audible over the soft breeze that rustled the leaves of the trees below them. “Of course I’ll miss it. Hogwarts gave me so many things. So much love that I never even believed I deserved.”
Had he not spirited along, she was a breath away from asserting that he did , and he smiled at her encouragingly, “But for the first time in my life… My future isn’t decided for me. For the first time, I’m free.”
A slow smile of realization spread across her lips and it matched the glimmer in her brilliant azure eyes, which seemed to soften the longer she looked at him. She squeezed his hand, “You are.”
“We are.” He corrected, “Seeing as I would like for you to be a part of whatever the future has in store for me.”
It used to be overwhelming for him to admit things like that, but he found that his heart felt so light and brimming with hope, that words of affirmation and love were like a second language to him. This sensation was only further emboldened by the look of pure delight that filled her gaze, which roamed his face in what he could only deduce was reverence.
“Oh? Keen on keeping me around?” She teased lightly, but he didn’t miss the way she’d scooted closer to him so their shoulders were touching.
He played along and shrugged, “I mean, lecturing tendencies aside, you’re a pretty good catch.”
Her jaw dropped, “ Lecturing tendencies? You’ve got a lot of nerve! If you didn’t go and self-sacrifice yourself at every left turn-”
Unable to prevent the chuckle that escaped his lips, he promptly cut her off with a kiss that turned whatever argument she’d been ready to fire off into a sigh. When they parted, he didn’t go far and observed, with deep satisfaction, how flustered she looked.
“That’s not always going to work.” She said in a low voice, but was betraying her own words with a smile that fought to break through.
“That implies that sometimes, it does.” He pointed out cheekily.
“Well, you’re lucky I’m not in much of a mood for quarreling.” She said.
“That’s a first.” He quipped.
“Are you trying to make me in the mood for quarreling?” She arched an eyebrow and he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him.
“Me? Never , my dear.” He assured with a laugh.
“Good, because they’ll want us down by the field soon.” She said, “I didn’t get you that watch so you could be needlessly late, Mr. Head Boy.”
“Actually, Mrs. Head Girl, if you had a watch of your own you would know that we have…” He looked at his wrist, “Approximately 15 seconds before we should be on our way.”
“Ah, silly me. Best to make every moment count then.” She retorted before tugging on his Head Student tassel and bringing his mouth back down to meet hers. And he really couldn’t think of a better way to kick off his final victory lap. Satine abruptly cut off the kiss with a pop and reached for his wrist to check his watch.
“Now, we’re running behind.” She tsked with fake disapproval.
“It’s okay, we’ve got all the time in the world.” He said as he unraveled them from their embrace and stuck out his arm, “How do you feel about one last patrol?”
She looped her arm in his, “I would love that.”
A graduation was a lesson in finality. Lining up like students, last name order, houses forgotten for the time being. Rows and rows of chairs to put them all at center stage as their loved ones and friends sat along the sides with cameras. Headmaster Yoda said a few words before letting Windu give a speech. He spoke of the talent that sat among them, of young minds now officially considered molded, and of future prospects that would hopefully reach the tallest mountains.
Then Obi-Wan was called to the stand. Hogwarts Head Boy and Salutatorian gave a quite passionate speech. It detailed the highs and lows that their graduating class had gone through. It covered everything from Maul to a particularly memorable prank that happened their fourth year.
“Hogwarts is a home to many, but today it is no longer our home. We all carved a life for ourselves here amid the stone walls and now it's time to do it one more time to form our futures.”
It was beautiful and Satine had to fan her eyes to keep her makeup from running. It would have looked rather odd considering she was called up next, Head Girl and Valedictorian. Satine had written her speech with similar tones, though hers focused more on the future than of the past. She did take time to highlight the muggleborn students among them. They of course had, had to work harder than a lot of their peers and she would not let them forget it.
“Moving forward I hope none of us will forget, where we came from does not dictate where we will go. It is your hardwork and dedicated passion that will define you.”
It felt like she was finishing her speech before it even began, walking back to her seat. Obi-Wan let his hand brush against hers as she passed, just a couple seats down. There was an invited guest, a kind eyed witch who brought her perspectives from the business of international travel. Her speech was honest, detailing the workplace life and how Hogwarts had prepared her for it. When Satine looked around at her peers she could tell they hoped they’d be prepared too.
And then names were called. Row by row, one by one each student walked across the stage as their name was announced. Students and audience alike, cheering as their friends and family made their way across to shake hands with Headmaster Yoda who was on a rather tall stool and receive their diploma from their Head of House.
“Cody Fett; Quidditch Captain!”
Satine cheered, clapping loudly as she watched him take the stage. Her first friend in a strange new world. He’d helped her up when she’d been knocked down and he’d taught her about Hogwarts. Cody never held any judgments. He was brave, loyal, and dedicated. Satine would always be grateful to him for making her feel welcomed in a world where she knew people wanted her gone.
Cody had shook Yoda’s hand and moved to Windu who had a few quiet words to say that she couldn’t make out. When he turned and held his diploma above his head she could tell he was a little misty eyed, though he would most certainly deny it. His family perhaps were the loudest cheerers of the day, Fives and Echo had found some kind of horribly loud horn and they used it for all it was worth until Professor Mundi silenced it from his spot alongside the other professors.
It was a long while and yet no time at all when she found herself standing, in line for the stage with her fellow K’s and surrounding letters.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi, Head Boy, Salutatorian!”
Ben graced the stage with poise and grace, but in an entirely opposite way from when he’d approached the sorting hat their first year. He no longer made himself hold an air of disdain, instead he was smiling softly. His hair was not pressed back, it was styled, yes, but fell loosely. His robes were pressed, but no longer out of obligation, but out of preference.
“For the first time in my life… My future isn’t decided for me. For the first time, I’m free.”
He’d just told her that, high up in the school towers. The sentiment echoed in every step he took. He shook Professor Yoda’s hand. Then, in a way that was so painfully Obi-Wan, he stuck his hand out to Professor Windu, then Professor Ti, Professor Palpatine, and finally his actual Head of House, Professor Tahl. He took the diploma carefully in his hands and he turned to face the audience looking a tad shy for someone who had just given a speech. He let his eyes roam the crowd before finding her, off to his right. He smiled and waved the little roll at her and she grinned back giving a thumbs up, making sure to cheer as loudly as she could.
In barely a moment it was her own turn.
“Satine Kryze, Head Girl, Valedictorian!”
As she took the stage she was reminded of the first time she’d entered the Great Hall. It’s enchanted ceiling and floating candles had stolen her breath and amazed her. Magic continued to amaze her every day. Walking through that room for the first time, seeing the castle for the first time, her first night away from her mum and sitting in the Ravenclaw common room. It all was the opening chapter in a now well loved and completely cherished book. Here, crossing the stage and facing Headmaster Yoda, she was writing the last chapter. There would be an epilogue, she supposed right afterwards, but this here? This was the final chapter, the final page.
She shook Headmaster Yoda’s hand and nodded at the Heads of Houses before approaching her own. Professor Tahl shook her hand and handed her a small bit of rolled parchment that would mean without any debate, that she was a certified graduating witch. In primary school she’d been asked of course what she wanted to be when she grew up. Never in her wildest dreams did little logical, overly realistic Satine Kryze expect that the answer would be a witch.
She turned and gazed across the audience, she found Ben easily and then Cody, and then her mum. This was the final sentence, the final words. As she carefully stepped off the stage, the book was closed.
The festivities for graduation were much tamer than the festivities of the night before. A small luncheon had been provided and it was mostly time for mingling with family and friends. Really it was a time for final farewells. Obi-Wan was fine sitting back and observing, a ridiculously large slice of chocolate cake in front of him. He thought it was poetic justice, after all, it was another ridiculous rule of his parents he’d broken through. He didn’t have to wonder too much about what it would have been like if he hadn’t been allowed to go to school. He would be forever in the debt of Hogwarts, the castle itself and the professors who worked there. They’d given him the space to grow, they’d given him help when he needed it.
He let his eyes drift to Cody who was surrounded by his brothers and Satine who was hugging her mum tightly. Anakin had come too, he hadn’t expected it. The soon to be forth year was currently piling his plate up sky high at the buffet table. If there was one thing for certain, Obi-Wan no longer had to lay awake at night wondering what it would be like to be loved.
Things changed over the years, but after all this time, he certainly had grown to enjoy it.
“Oi,” Anakin slapped down his plate next to Obi-Wan’s, “Look how many sorts of meat they have!” He was currently debating between two of them, “I’m not even sure what half this is.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s bantha,” Obi-Wan suggested helpfully, but Anakin just shrugged and piled them all into a roll.
“Whatever it is I’m starving,” Anakin took a large bite, “Graduation ceremonies take forever!”
“Keep your mouth closed Anakin,” Obi-Wan sighed, shielding his cake from any flying condiments.
“Ben!” He whipped his head up at Satine’s call. She was standing next to Cody and her mum waving him over.
He didn’t waste any time joining them.
“I’m so proud of you,” Satine tried to say, but was definitely getting herself choked up.
“Come now, I’m second best,” He cheekily reminded her, “Someone seems to always be around to beat me to the punches.”
“I don’t think Satine’s throwing any punches mate,” Cody shook his head, “Though she’d be might dangerous if she did.”
“Oh shut up,” She sniffed, frantically swiping at her eyes to keep her makeup from running, “We’re going to get pictures now, okay? Cody don’t you dare complain,” She stopped him before he could start, “You’ll want one anyways.”
“It is our last chance to all be in one place,” Obi-Wan said wistfully, “Come fall we’ll be running around in all sorts of directions.”
“ Please don’t remind me right now, Obi-Wan,” Satine admonished swiping more furiously at her mascara, “Damn I knew I shouldn’t have worn this today.”
“Uh did you guys already forget?” Cody was looking between the two of them inquisitive and Obi-Wan racked his brain.
“I can’t think of anything I’ve forgotten,” Obi-Wan hesitated, “Satine?”
“No don’t worry I remembered to turn in all our library books,” Satine took a shaky breath, “I don’t want to think about that either.”
“Mates, my best mates in the whole world,” Cody sighed deeply, but eagerness to remind them poured through his words, “You’re forgetting that this is going to be the best summer of our lives. ”
Obi-Wan blinked blankly and shot a confused glance to Satine who shook her head, “Not that I’m not looking forward to hearing of your Quidditch workout, but what does that have to do with anything.”
“Oh bloody hell, I’m not talking about Quidditch… for once,” He grinned, “We’ve got all summer to do anything we want before real life starts next fall! And this is the first time we have complete access to this guy ,” He threw an arm around Obi-Wan, “It’s going to the summer.”
Obi-Wan had never considered the possibility of a summer where he could simply do whatever he wanted… but Cody was right, and he was free.
“I don’t even know what people do in the summer,” Obi-Wan said in his slow dawning realization.
“Don’t worry,” Satine grinned, throwing her arms around the two of them, “I have some ideas!”
Just on the edge of Loch Carron in the Scottish Highlands, a young girl runs through a spectacular field of shrubbery of all makes and colors with one destination in mind. The air is fresh and warm on her umber skin, with the ever present sprays of seasalt saving her from any lingering humidity. She doesn’t stop, though despite her focus, takes care to greet any familiar townspeople along her way. Most are fishermen, as that was and always will be a marketable trade in Plockton, but also she’s known them the majority of her life.
Whether or not they truly know her, is a whole other question.
Her dark hair whips behind her in tight braids as she sprints, her fists pumping to propel herself faster and towards the charming little cottage that rested on the outskirts of Plockton. A day hasn’t gone by where she doesn’t call this home, but right now, it also serves as a golden gate to new possibilities. She does not tire, even as she runs the entire distance from the schoolyard. She doesn’t know how she knows, but she knows today is the day.
The town is quaint and regarded as quite beautiful by visitors, and she never regretted growing amongst the quiet reverie offered to her. However, since she was a small girl, she has been forced to keep a secret about herself. One that is much bigger than her or her uncle that has raised her from her days as a small tot. It is one that will one day very soon be explored.
Though it likely takes her but a few minutes, she feels as though her trek along the visionary mountainside took years, but she finally cuts through to where the buildings start to gather and rounds the church at the end of her street to catch sight of home.
She sticks her hand through the mailbox posted at the front of their lawn, briefly disgruntled that it’s already empty. This does not reduce her fervor. Despite how many times she’s been scolded for it, she swings the screen door open with little care for if she rips it off its hinges and lets it slam with equal carelessness.
“Must you be so barbaric?” A muffled voice from the bathroom predictably calls down to her. “You’re like a bull in a china shop!”
“Sorry!” She calls, even if she’s anything but. She races towards the dining room table, not taking the time to kick off her shoes or put down her book bag as she normally would. She’s not bogged down by the weight, for not only is it the last day of school, but she simply could not be bothered.
How could she? On a day like today? There were so few moments in a person’s life where they knew everything was about to change tremendously for them. But this was one of them. In many ways, it felt like an origin story.
Instead, she scans the floral lined tablecloth, as the mail is as neatly organized as it always is, divided into piles. She hardly ever gets mail save for the occasional magazine that might wind up in her name due to some accidental subscriptions at the supermarket. Her heart doesn’t stop beating until she realizes that nothing is in her name and then all the excitement of the climactic build up falls and seeps from every pore on her body.
She drops into a seat- her usual when eating meals or doing homework, and tries not to be too disappointed. Today was only the first day she could receive her news. In retrospect, it was probably very rare to get yours in the first batch, even if she did feel her uncle could have something to say about getting hers sooner rather than later.
She blows out a heavy sigh, the exhaustion of her run finally catching up to her and the emerald green necklace around her neck suddenly seems to weigh a thousand pounds. She takes it off, watching her skin go from brown to orange and reaching to feel the familiar cool texture of striped montrails in lieu of hair on her head. She catches her reflection in the antique plates and cutlery on display and smiles, always liking her true appearances.
“Looking for something?” Her uncle appears, his face kind and understanding behind the breathing apparatus he regularly wore.
“I thought it might come today,” She shrugs. “But I guess I was just being impatient.”
“Perhaps,” Uncle Plo says, removing his hand from behind his back to reveal a letter with a cherry red seal on the back. He hands it out to her, “But I’m sure that’s something we’ll be able to assist you with at Hogwarts.”
The timing was perfect. All departing students were home at last for the summer, sharing the first of many meals alongside family and chattering about the conquests of an eventful school year. The travels of the day would render them exhausted early, many falling asleep even where they sat if they could not make the long climb to the safety of their beds.
Fireplaces were cooled and blankets were tucked tight. The full moon rose high across an otherwise oblique sky, glowing a strong yellow. Save for the song of the crickets, who came out to dominate the night, there was silence.
Until the heavy hand struck 12 and every radio in every wizarding household clicked on .
At first, there was merely a soft whirring that crackled through speakers, only loud enough to stir the lightest of sleepers. It drew on for a long minute, driving at the very least, the restless mice of the house, insane with the thought of whether this was a dream or reality. For those with stronger sleep defenses, the abrupt start of a children’s rhyme blasting through their house surely jostled them out of bed and tumbled towards the song.
Families briefly quarreled, surely, since they all demanded to know who would play such a prank and awake them from their precious rest. It was not as though everyone had off from responsibility the entire summer, after all. They switched every knob, pushed every button, and tried smothering the devices. However, the more they intensified their efforts, the more present the sounds grew.
“Ring around the rosie
A pocketful of posies
Ashes, ashes…”
Eventually though, it became abundantly clear that no one present had started it, for the song that played on the radio wasn’t on any station or recording in the actual mechanism. It was merely a conduit for a sound beyond their control.
The voice was high-pitched and distorted, with the vague sound of a piano out of key playing beneath the chorus. Repeatedly, this song was played, a click in between each time it circled around and around. It seemed endless and the underlying music delved into further chaos. It never sang the final line in the song, each time just cutting off and returning to the beginning again.
To the youth of the muggle world, this was but a chant sung by gleeful children on the schoolyard, dancing in circles in delight of good weather and better company. Even the youngest of witches and wizards of pure descent knew that there was nothing jovial surrounding the ominous warning of what was the black plague.
It was an omen, showcasing that darkness usually preyed on those most innocent before finding its way slowly to those more deserving. It was a threat but also a promise to take and take until there would be little left behind. They were losing their culture, their history, to hypocrisy and spinelessness.
They had to know what was coming and what the price would be to those who weren’t willing to stand against the true mark of evil: ignorance.
There was brief silence, just enough to sustain a sense of misplaced relief in the listening audience before Dooku’s voice filled their ears. He used his classroom voice, diffusing some of the dark reputation that had slandered his name these past few years. Many expected the Sith to sound like demons, to behave like invalids.
“I can remain silent no longer on the nefarious propaganda that has weighed down my reputation for these long years. I have hidden in the shadows for too long, simply for having differing beliefs from those in power.”
He paused, speaking slowly, but with increased momentum, knowing full and well he would have their attention next if he hadn’t already, “And I’ve watched as they try to make me out to be a monster, to group me and my cause in with the likes of Maul. It is not I who freed that satanic brute. It is not I that infiltrated Hogwarts with a useless squib teaching our children. It is not I that covers up fires and death and mutiny every single day by means of censorship.”
He breathed, addressing what was surely the elephant in the room in a voice lower than before, “And you might ask yourselves, Dooku, you had tried to kill Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker that night in the graveyard. To which I admit, it may seem that way.”
Oh the madness those pearl-clutching plebs must have divulged into.
“But while my methods in this TriWizard tournament may hold the perceptions of cruelty to those unwilling to understand, it was meant to stand as proof of the inadequacy of this current administration. There was no protection on those boys in this watered down tournament. There was no accountability or proper investigation to the several claims of possible sabotage. Like with anything else, it was buried, just as their bodies would have been had I not seen my point already proven.”
The smile in his voice was evident as he spoke further, “What sort of Ministry do we have? That allows maniacs to run loose and target our most prized children? While protecting and even paying for the safety of those who do not? We spend more in the defense of muggles than we do in wizards.”
He could not see the responses from his audience, but there was a fear that radiated through the air that Dooku could practically smell. It was delicious and waiting to be consumed, “We delude ourselves with lies from the censorship that radiates through the Daily Prophet all the way to the top! We tell ourselves it’s all okay as though we stand a chance if there were to be revolution. The muggles are planning. Do you think they seek to share this world with us any longer?”
“I will no longer be operating from the shadows, hiding as though what I think is wrong, not when hypocrisy drenches our hands like blood. I have no shame nor fear to douse myself entirely if it means putting an end to this heinous ludicrousy. I know I am not the only one.”
He imagined applause, those standing from the safety of their own homes, away from judgment or the media to criticize how they felt. It was how true revolution was made.
“And I will be running for Minister of Magic, to ensure that nobody is.” He said gently, “We will target those who stand in our way of freedom. Because if we don’t make this stand, if we don’t rise …”
The song clicked on again, playing the final part and leaving everyone with that familiar whirring sound from earlier.
He turned it over. It was sealed with a white seal, the World Quidditch Organization’s symbol was gilded in gold. It felt almost wrong to break the seal of something so special, but he did it anyway. The letter unfolded in his hands and he could do nothing but stare at it with wide eyes.
It was legit, it had to be, everything was exactly as it had been described in Quidditch Through the Ages even if he wasn’t sure when the last one had been sent out. He couldn’t even view it as an elaborate prank because Quinlan had given such a strong case before handing it over. So it was real and it was in his hands . This was more than he’d ever expected. Rarer than rare. Completely and utterly unexpected. —Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden // Magical Forces AU (ao3 link)
Fireworks burst in all different colors as they all joined on the stage and stood in a line, representing not just Gryffindor or even Hogwarts, but Durmstrang and Beauxbatons as well. Shapes of their numbers lit up the sky and their names as well. Anakin breathed a little easier not having to stand on that stage alone any longer. That was the whole of it though, right? Not having to stand against evil alone, but together. —Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden // Magical Forces AU (ao3 link)
“I love you,” Such a simple phrase, but said by his voice and with a level of absolute devotion she wondered suddenly, if only for a minute, if she was worthy of it. If she deserved it.
“You chose now to tell me? Right now? ” Because of course she’d known deep down, even if she was letting herself be in denial about it for her own composure.
“I wanted to tell you,” He wheezed, “But you told me to wait. I’m tired of waiting.”
“Right now? Right after you were surely to die?” She found herself repeating, eyes blurring. She tried to wipe away the tears with her arm, but didn’t have enough hands to do so properly.
“I’d be happy to tell you again and again and again, until we find the most suitable time,” He used his hand already on her face to wipe away the tears before they could fall, “I love you,” He repeated. —Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden // Magical Forces AU (ao3 link)
Dancing with Ghosts in Your Garden~ Year 3: May (Part II)
(ao3 link)
“Where- Where did they go?” Padmé, along with many of the other students in his section, leapt to their feet in shock and outrage at the sky going blank, filled only with darkness. No stars dotted across the navy sky this evening. Where there had once been the live coverage of what was going down in the forbidden forest, there was nothing at all.
Many others voiced their complaints, many from a place of concern but others from the very selfish position of boredom. If Padmé had the room to fret over what other said, she’d surely inform them of their ignorance. She didn’t though, and instead found her heart beating much too fast in anticipation for the professors to get the projection going again.
Yoda along with Nala Se and Minister Valorum gathered at the center of the arena, raising their wands to point in the same direction, standing to form a triangle. Bib Fortuna, understandably, wasn’t asked to help, seeing as the twi’lek was still too busy berating his own champion for falling out so easily.
“Totalis Proiectio” She couldn’t hear them from where they all stood, but could see Valorum’s mouth move in the motion of the spell. After what appeared to be three tries, likely because they weren’t performing it with the level of unison required to cast such a large image, a shaky illumination of the forest reappeared before them all.
However, any hopes that this had merely been a faulty charm were promptly dashed when no one- neither Anakin or Obi-Wan- stood where they’d last been seen. As far as Padmé could horrifically take notice of, the only thing left behind was Obi-Wan’s gold galleon.
“The galleons,” She turned to Rex, her blood like ice, “Neither of them have their portkeys.”
“Which means neither can portkey back,” Rex voiced what had truly plagued her. His face, which was usually quite tan even in the winter time, had gone pale with fear. Even though there was nothing to be seen for them in the clear night sky, they both turned their sights back to it, hoping in foolish desperation that both boys would come into focus again.
“And where are they?” She asked, “They had the cup… They should have come back here.”
“They were supposed to,” Rex reiterated slowly, coming to his own conclusions behind a solemn face, “But Anakin was supposed to be too young for this tournament. Gunray was supposed to be an impartial Ministry official. Kenobi was supposed to have a boggart in the second task. A lot of things were supposed to happen, Padmé, but we all knew that there was a good bloody chance that a lot that isn’t supposed to happen might.”
He didn’t sound like he liked the idea any more or less than she did, but Rex Fett handled his stress different than those around them, who were losing their minds and borderline breaking into riots. She couldn’t even see Ravenclaw’s side from all the bouncing heads and hands up and down, signs waving everywhere.
Someone played music to try to calm them down, as if they were a bunch of toddlers.
“I just… I hope they’re okay,” She said.
“I hope so too.” Rex nodded and then smiled, “Anakin’s tough, right? And so is Obi-Wan. He fought Maul to the death and won.”
“Right.” She swallowed, though she wasn’t sure if these words of affirmation were helping anyone.
“And really, maybe they were just tossed to some field,” He said, “We could all be overreacting.”
They weren’t, though, and both of them knew it.
***
Anakin awoke to rain pouring down from a black sky. His head felt like it might melt out of his skull. He rolled to his side, hearing and feeling the wet ground beneath him squish as he debated on whether or not he needed to throw up. Portkeys always did tend to leave him feeling rather scrambled afterwards, though never quite like this. He’d never been drunk before, but he had heard plenty of stories from Watto growing up about the effects afterwards. This, undoubtedly, sounded similar to just that.
Remembering himself and where he should be, he sat up quickly, rubbing desperately at his face to try and get rid of that sense of vertigo that possessed him. He looked to either side of him, watching puddles of brown and green collect in the grasslands while the rain beat heavily down on him. There was no TriWizard cup and even more confusingly, there was no Obi-Wan.
Had something happened when they’d grabbed the cups? Had Obi-Wan somehow ended up with both? He vaguely remembered hearing his mentor’s scream before blacking out, but nothing made sense, especially as he sat alone.
There was a massive hill in front of him, seemingly leading up to dreary clouds that guarded a moon and stars. Anakin rose to his feet, feeling like that was where he needed to go. It was as good of a place to start as any.
So, he began to trudge up the slippery slope, backsliding only a time or two before stomping with more force and using some of the mud as traction.
“Ani…” A gentle voice called.
“Mum?” He called back, looking all around him, trying not to knock himself off balance from the force of how hard he turned his body. He could hardly see anything with this rain, let alone her, but he pushed himself further up the hill, no matter how badly his legs ache from the strain of it. He hadn’t realized how much running he’d done today.
“You’re almost there, Ani,” She said again.
“I’m coming!” He said, spitting out a mouthful of rain at the effort. He didn’t dare look back, not at where he’d landed. He’d come so far since then.
“Ani, come to me,” She said, a bit louder this time and he took off in a full sprint upwards, not caring what the hell he felt as long as her voice got louder and clearer with every step he took. It felt like running home from the last day of school, into her arms. He’d rounded the corner of his street many times as a child, and she had always been there waiting for him with an embrace and plate of cookies in mind. He’d never known what he had until it was gone.
It wasn’t as though he’d ever truly lost hope. He dreamed of her face every night, sometimes smiling, sometimes frowning, but even with all of his hopes and dreams in mind, he never could have predicted the feeling of seeing her again.
Until now.
For when he crossed the final few strides up the muddy hill, he fell to his knees at the sight of her. Here, amongst the clouds, there was no rain. He was higher than the eye could see, like he was soaring on a broomstick for the first time. He belonged, and she was there, standing with hands on her hips with a look of mock admonishment.
Even covered in mud, he dove for her, craving her comfort and her assurance more than anything in this whole world. She laughed as she caught him. She was smaller than he remembered, or perhaps he truly had grown taller. He was the same height as her now, but that didn’t stop him from burrowing into her hug and breathing in the smell of fabric softener and fresh baked cookies.
“Ani! You’re filthy!” She chuckled, but still pressed a kiss to his hair. “And you’ve gotten so big! And handsome!”
“I knew I’d find you, mum,” He said, fighting away tears. He didn’t want to cry right now. This was a happy moment, one that he would cherish forever.
“You never had to look far, my dear boy,” She smiled, her eyes kind and twinkling, “I have always been with you.”
“I’ve missed you so much,” He admitted, “So much has happened. Qui-Gon… He’s… He’s gone.”
“I know,” She said, cradling his face between her hands, “And it wasn’t your fault.”
“He died for me,” He sniffed.
“And many others might.” She said in a suddenly serious voice, “Which is a difficult burden to carry, one that I fear I never prepared you for.”
“I don’t need anyone to die for me,” He promised, “I can take care of things myself!”
“Anakin, you are brave and you are kind, but you will need friends and allies. It means everything to me that you’ve found good ones.” She explained, “But do not believe that it is solely you they will lay their lives down for, but everything you will stand for.”
“I’m not sure what I stand for these days,” He said, “The Ministry wouldn’t help me find you and Dooku is an evil tyrant who is coming out of the shadows! It doesn’t feel like anyone is doing anything!”
“Be patient, young one,” She soothed, rubbing her thumbs along his temples, “You will grow into exactly who you need to be. I have always known you were special, long before you began to show signs of being a wizard. It is your heart that makes you noble, my love. And you will do the right thing in the end.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I made you, Anakin,” She laughed like he’d just asked the silliest question ever to be asked, which absently, he knew was wrong. He’d asked plenty of others that had been far more ridiculous, “I know you better than you know yourself at times.”
“I’m just happy to have you back,” He said, taking her hands in his, “So, we can be a family again.”
“We will always be family,” She assured him, “Never forget that.”
***
“Why hello, Obi-Wan,” Dooku said rather diplomatically, given their current positions. Wind howled behind him, sending his brown cape into a frenzy that whipped and snapped. “Long time no see.”
“Traitor,” Obi-Wan cradled the burn at the palm of his hand as he sat slumped on the ground, six feet below where Dooku stood. It was deep and continuously agonizing, unlike the sort one might get from accidentally grabbing the tea kettle straight from the stove. It charred his skin in a leathery fashion that would surely scar, spasming every so often.
“Oh no, quite opposite, this must surely be a misunderstanding,” Though he leaned forward just a tad, “There must be another Obi-Wan Kenobi that will fit this grave marker just as finely. Surely, the one I was to find wouldn’t have been quite so easy to catch.”
He didn’t take the bait, nor did it get a rise out of him. He didn’t care about seeming powerful or strong enough to the likes of Dooku. He had no desire to appease the Sith. It was not his way.
“And to think,” He said, stroking his white beard, the ring that had given him away two years ago catching as he did, “Qui-Gon used to speak so highly of you.”
“He spoke highly of you too,” Obi-Wan said, “So, I suppose we’re both disappointed.”
He chuckled- a haughty sound, the kind that he used to make in class before delivering a scalding detention to the likes of an unsuspecting student. Then, his face fell, the wrinkles that were slack above his beard and creased his forehead suddenly made him look ages older than he was. Though come to think of it, Obi-Wan didn’t actually know how old the former DADA professor was at all.
“I do wish he were still alive,” He said, voice low and full of regret, “I could really use his help right about now.”
“Qui-Gon Jinn would never join you!” Obi-Wan snapped and he scowled when Dooku raised a white brow at him as though to mock him for revealing that thread of emotion. “You tried to kill him!”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Dooku paced around the perimeter of the grave, hands clasped behind his back and his large gait casual with the airs of someone who had all the time in the world. It gave Obi-Wan the impression of playing with one’s food. “Don’t forget, he was once my young mentee just as you were once his.”
“Then you betrayed him and everything he stood for,” Obi-Wan said firmly.
“And what was that?” Dooku asked, like they were having a genuine debate on the topic and he wasn’t waving death in Obi-Wan’s face, “Qui-Gon was a very reasonable man, not one to simply go with the flow. Had he learned what I now know, he likely would have seen reason.”
“You call pillaging muggle towns and setting streets ablaze, reasonable?” He asked, “I’d be wary to learn what you believe to be aggressive, then.”
“Sometimes, statements must be made, no matter how ugly and regrettable they are,” He sighed, as though he really felt it. Had Obi-Wan not known Dooku, he might have fallen for it. He was not the sort of frightening monster that he fought earlier. He was a man. One with perhaps something far more dangerous than mere might: an ego.
“Nothing justifies the violence you have caused on so many innocent people, Dooku.” He said.
“Your parents think otherwise,” He chuckled, and Obi-Wan tensed at his mentioning of them. He knew that Dooku caught it and that was partially why he continued down this line of thought. However, Obi-Wan could tell he was telling the truth as he did.
“I have been happy to have their support through all of this. They did ask that I try and make you see reason. We do go far back, after all. I have orders saying otherwise, but the way I see it, there is only one way out of that grave, Obi-Wan.” His eyes glinted pure darkness, “And that is only if you join me and help me bring about a true peace.”
“Never,” He didn’t have to think about it, not even for a second. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been so sure in his entire life.
He straightened his back, hands tightening behind him, but he remained poised as ever, “What if I told you that Hogwarts and the Ministry is under the thumb of a Sith lord as we speak?”
“I’d say that you’re a liar,” Obi-Wan retorted.
“Am I? I so easily slipped beneath the radar of the great Headmaster Yoda and Minister Valorum? Why not anyone else?” He asked.
“Because there are no more powerful people in our community than Yoda or Valorum, and neither of them can be Sith Lords.”
“No, they are not,” Dooku said, “But trust me when I say, in a few years time, Hogwarts and the Ministry will fall to their true leader: Darth Sidious. The Aurors will fail. Yoda will fail. Unless…”
He paused, thinking about what he was going to say next. He’d always been a measured speaker, thoughtful and careful about what he would say. Nothing was ever truly off the cuff with Dooku. Even before he’d been revealed as evil, all had wondered what was on his mind, “Unless you join me and we pair together to destroy him ourselves.”
“Why would you want to destroy this Sidious?” Obi-Wan asked, “What would you stand to gain from that?”
“I’m sure Qui-Gon has taught you that there can only be two Sith, no more, no less.” He said, “Without Sidious, I could restore true peace, without this unnecessary violence upon muggle born children. I know you have such a soft spot for them…”
Obi-Wan schooled his features, not willing to give Dooku any greater satisfaction from seeing him squirm.
“It is Sidious who seeks to destroy them all. Every last one of them,” He shook his head, “I have no such malice towards them. It is our disbanded and ruined Ministry I seek reckoning upon. Surely, you have also noticed some inconsistencies.”
“Nothing is perfect,” Obi-Wan admitted, “But I will never join you, Dooku.”
“Noble to the last,” He shook his head, “Truly, I hold great respect for that, Obi-Wan. It is a shame you and your precious chosen one will have to die.”
Not so easily, he wouldn’t. Though admittedly still winded from his previous battle with the mysterious Vader, it seemed his night of fighting wasn’t quite over just yet.
Salire Precepis!
He leapt high into the air, drawing his own wand in his right hand as he did so, narrowly dodging the jagged curse which had bolted his way. When he landed on the hard ground, legs shaking a bit from the impact, Dooku watched him with his long nose turned up in dissatisfaction.
Obi-Wan pulled his wand in a fighting position, one that had been practiced in class several times. Hell, he’d practiced this even in Dooku’s class before. His eyes fell to Anakin, who lie completely unconscious just off to the side. A different figure, cloaked in black, stood in front of him, guarding the TriWizard cup. His face was impossible to see, as he ducked his head low, but Obi-Wan had strong doubts that this was the Sidious that Dooku referenced so cavalierly.
“Do not bother to call to him,” Dooku said with a tight smile. He shot an approving nod towards his compatriot, who could have been a statue in his stoicism, “He is somewhere far away from here, a place he will never run from.”
“Why prolong the inevitable?” Dooku sighed heavily, like he was deeply burdened not by the prospect of killing Obi-Wan, but by the effort of it all, “I thought you were wise, Obi-Wan. But if you wish to die brutally, then die brutally you shall.”
Though it wasn’t Dooku who stepped forward, but his acquaintance.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi, meet Rael Aveross.”
Obi-Wan didn’t hesitate before immediately firing his first spell, Expelliarmus.
***
“Nowhere in the forest, they are,” Yoda confirmed as the scouted Aurors returned from their intensive search. There were several search parties administered, especially since Anakin was still a minor and had the trace on him. Obi-Wan’s had recently been removed, though strangely an entire year after his 17th birthday. “Taken elsewhere, they must have.”
“And the trace?” Palpatine asked, “Surely, there’s something conclusive there.”
“Static,” Yoda growled, “Blocking ministry signals, Dooku is, somehow.”
“But he can’t do that! He’s powerful but-” Shaak Ti complained.
“-The dark side is not something that can be solved with such logic,” Windu grimaced, “If Dooku has contacts that are higher up, it’s entirely possible that he’s figured out a way to temporarily block Skywalker’s trace.”
“But how?” Tahl asked.
“The same way he did two years ago,” Windu said, looking around them, “By keeping him just close enough that it’s not proven useful to trace him. Or by blocking it with sinister magic.”
“Kenobi can apparate, perhaps that’s what happened?” Valorum suggested.
“Why apparate straight out of a contest he was about to win?” Tahl countered, “Not to mention the fact that boy has to be too exhausted to accomplish anything like that.”
“Hopefully he’s not too tired,” Windu said, “Because I don’t like the sound of two previously threatened champions disappearing.”
“This smells like Dooku to me,” Shaak Ti said in a low voice, “It’s just a matter of figuring out where he’s taken them.”
“And how,” Windu agreed.
“The cup, it has to be,” Yoda said in a low voice, “Check it prior to the task, I did, but fall into many hands it had since.”
“Including Gunray’s.” Windu recalled, “He’d been so certain about getting his scaly hands on it to ensure it wasn’t a decoy, or whatever rubbish that was.”
“Grab Gunray, someone must,” Yoda said. “Know something about this, he might.”
“He’s already been shipped off to Azkaban, though I doubt they’ve selected a cell for him just yet,” Valorum said as he moved away from the gathered professors in order to arrange for Gunray to be brought back for information. An owl was immediately sent off into the night, though the Minister’s owl always carried mail in a more expedited fashion than other birds.
“I’ll be honest,” Tahl said quietly, once Valorum was out of earshot, “I’ve been having terrible premonitions, many of which I’d hoped were not about this night. There are many ways this could go.”
“And?” Shaak Ti asked.
“Very, very few are anything resembling okay.” She said.
“Can you at least deduce where they are so we can help?” Windu asked.
“I’ve never seen a place,” She said, “Just blood… So much blood.”
“Nothing about that is lifting my spirits,” Palpatine sighed, “Should we send the other children back to the common rooms?”
“No, cause more disdain, that will,” Yoda said, “Have friends and family here, Skywalker and Kenobi do.”
“And in case Dooku decides to appear?” The potions professor prodded. “You know I am rarely a stick in the mud, Headmaster, and am all about following your orders, but perhaps only a few of us should wait here to stand guard.”
“Are you volunteering?” Windu asked tightly.
“I could be,” Palpatine reasoned, “I’m not as well versed in deflecting the dark arts as you are, Professor Windu, but I assure you, I can hold my own. I can stand back and if they were to return, I’d sound the alarms and bells immediately!”
“He cannot appear on Hogwarts property,” Tahl said, looking to Yoda, who confirmed this with only a quiet nod, “Which means they could be anywhere outside of this realm.”
“If not the forest, then where?” Shaak Ti asked.
Yoda looked at Minister Valorum, unease climbing in his chest. The Minister had asked that it be certain that Anakin Skywalker grabbed that cup first. Now, he looked positively ragged with anxiety that such a thing hadn’t exactly happened.
Yoda wondered if he had, if both boys would be missing right now.
What did Dooku want with Obi-Wan Kenobi?
***
“Petrificus Totalus.” Dooku said from off to the side, or at least, that’s where Obi-Wan believed him to be standing. He was stuck, the spark of red light just barely spurted from his wand and lay in thin air just a few inches away from his face. His arm was stretched out, his legs still lunging forward. However, he did not budge. He could only move his eyes to watch as Rael Aveross loomed closer, keeping his hands tucked in his dark robes and his face completely shrouded.
He circled Obi-Wan as though surveying every inch of him, notating his weaknesses, and continuing on.
“Now, now,” Dooku tsked, “I’ve taught you better than that. You know that it’s always customary to bow before a proper duel.”
There was a sinistery to his voice as he said it and it didn’t take Obi-Wan long to figure out why, because once Aveross appeared in front of him again, he drove a swift knee straight to his gut, knocking the wind out of him, though Obi-Wan couldn’t even react due to the constraints of the spell- his stomach and chest remaining taut even as it was done again and again.
All he could do was helplessly wheeze through gritted teeth.
“He said, bow ,” Aveross hissed, shoving him forcefully by the back of the neck onto the ground and Obi-Wan fell like a pile of bricks hitting concrete, nothing bracing his fall as he smashed into a plot that laid flat.
And just for good measure, the heel of a boot dug into the back of his head, smothering him against the stone until there was hardly space to breathe.
Pain throbbed in his face and head, his blood staining this poor person’s grave now. He winced, trying to retain some dignity, but it was not easy as Aveross grabbed him from the hair and yanked him upward like a limp doll to show his face to Dooku. The older man sat with his legs crossed, perched on top of Obi-Wan’s plotted grave with all the nonchalance of someone waiting for tea to brew.
“You’ve almost got it,” Dooku said pompously, “Rise to your opponent.”
He grunted as he was pulled to a full standing position by the hair, his head unable to tilt back and resist the tugging on each sensitive follicle. He tried to keep his eyes steady on Dooku, and to desperately think of a way out of this one.
“Was that so hard?” He asked. “You know me to be old fashioned, Obi-Wan, so hand behind your back.”
Following the pattern to all of this, Obi-Wan was at least able to squeeze his eyes together tightly and clench his teeth before Aveross forced his previously outstretched arm into a bending position, bones dislocating and snapping against the weight of Dooku’s powerful freezing spell, and contorting like a pretzel behind his back.
He screeched in agony, feeling like his head might explode. Tears slipped through his shut eyes and glazed down his dirty and blood stained face. The faint sense that he might pass out drew upon him and he forced himself with every fiber of remaining consciousness that he had to stay awake, that he had to distract himself from the radiating torment that came from his right arm socket.
Aveross moved away from him, much to Obi-Wan’s silent relief and positioned himself across the graveyard, bowly once and drawing his own wand.
“Now, you may start.” Dooku flicked his wand, releasing Obi-Wan from his entrapment and chuckling when all he did was fall forward once again. This time, he managed to keep himself from collapsing completely with his burned hand breaking part of the fall. His right arm might as well have been completely detached, it hung loose and twisted in an ungodly position.
The frozen expelliarmus charm flew into the middle of nowhere, striking only a distant tree.
“Shit,” He muttered, feeling like he might vomit. He shuffled to his feet, grimacing as every second he held his wand suddenly felt like he was being tortured by it- like a knife digging into a deep wound.
“5 points from Ravenclaw for such crude language!” He taunted, whipping his wand upward, sending Obi-Wan flying until he was falling much too fast and catching him inches from the ground before flinging him against a tree so hard that Obi-Wan could not differentiate whether it was the tree or he that shook with such prevalence. “This is hardly the performance of Ravenclaw’s Head Boy. Or have they truly gone soft since my age?”
Defodio.
From his position upside down and even with his head spinning, he’d managed to shoot a hole straight through the stone where Dooku sat, sending the older wizard flying and giving him precisely the opening he needed to rise again.
Aveross was on him, though, blasting a well timed ball of fire straight towards him. Though his arms and torso were lagging, his legs were still fairly strong, and Obi-Wan was able to run, countering this quickly with a powerful stream of water.
Aqua Eructo.
Meeting in the middle, flame and water burst, spreading backwards into waves of their own. Obi-Wan had never been more glad to be at the negative end of his own spell, for it was much better to be struck with a jet of water than to be lit on fire.
Aveross shed himself of his scorched robe, revealing a plain face that Obi-Wan thought nothing of. He didn’t quite understand why he’d been so secretive about it. These Sith were used to slithering around in the gutters though, so he couldn’t be too pressed about it.
“Wordless magic,” Dooku, who had risen from his disarray, dusting dirt off fine-pressed robes, “I must say, I’m pleasantly surprised.”
“Talis Scalpere.” Aveross left no room for sentiments to be exchanged, though, clearly disgruntled by his burned clothes, and went for Obi-Wan’s head.
Obi-Wan was glad to have deflected that one, sending it against an unfamiliar gravestone, which instantly devolved into hundreds of little cubed shaped rocks. That easily could have been him.
Stupefy!
He shot in both directions, finding it best not to set his sights solely on one. Clearly, they were not above tag-teaming him right now. The only problem with this was receiving two counterspells coordinated at the same exact time. He fell to the ground again, rolling just in time to dodge, though his aching ribs were not grateful for this tactic.
He’d adapt though, he always did.
“I thought a gentleman’s duel was between two people?” Obi-Wan tried for his own means of taunting. “Or do you not believe you can defeat me on your own?”
He could not merely beat them both with brauns. That was not nor would it ever be his style. Not to mention, Dooku’s greatest weakness was also his greatest strength: his intellect.
“It seems you still have much to learn,” Dooku shook his head and shrugged off his cape, waving at Aveross to stay back near Anakin’s limp body. Obi-Wan tucked his head up from the ground, just to look at him for a moment and ensure he was still breathing.
“So, teach me then,” He dared, spitting out blood from his mouth and getting back into a dueling position, this time taking the moment to bow. His right arm was already stuck in the bent position behind his back from earlier, cracked completely backwards and out of place.
He blinked steadily, forcing himself not to think of it and swallowed the rising bile in his throat. He had an end in sight. Better to play into his whims to get his guard down. He needed to get over to Anakin and that cup. It was obviously a portkey. At the very least, it would take them back to the forest.
But there only being one remaining made him hope for otherwise.
“Very well then,” Dooku said after a long beat of staring at him.
“Master, are you certain this-” Aveross’ objections were cut off with no more than a swift nod. Dooku was not the sort to wear his emotions on his sleeve- not now and not ever. However, it wasn’t difficult to decipher his silent threats. Obi-Wan could read their dynamic instantly. Aveross was indeed, not a Sith, not in the full extent that Dooku was. He wanted to be, that much was obvious, but he was nothing more than a hired hand in the end.
He tucked that bit of knowledge away.
They took their respective bows, Obi-Wan’s entire body thrumming with adrenaline being the only thing keeping him from collapsing all together again. Even with that in mind, he didn’t intend on having yet another full blown duel. He wouldn’t survive it and neither would Anakin.
Anakin…
He glanced towards the boy, who was still caught in whatever trance he’d been put under. Aveross had nudged him with his boot to ensure he was still alive and seemed satisfied with the results before turning away to watch his master and Obi-Wan fight.
He wasn’t sure if it was good or bad that the third year was unconscious for this nightmare.
Dooku didn’t make the first move. His arms were crossed behind his back and his eyes calculating. He was not the sort to simply fire off spells left and right. No, he would approach this as he did with everything: strategy. Obi-Wan knew he was on his last leg of defense, most likely, and that he was vastly outmatched at the moment.
However, what he needed, was help.
Pierototum Locomotor!
He waved his wand and Dooku moved to retaliate, but seemed momentarily surprised nothing struck at him. Not until the gigantic statues behind him, which had previously served as faceless placeholders to some unknown wizard’s place of eternal rest, trudged towards him.
They swung and operated like giants, waving large stone fists in the air and bringing them down around Dooku. The old wizard leapt, dodging and parrying against them. The one wielded a sword, which was larger than Dooku was in height, swinging it messily, but effectively to distract him.
Obi-Wan bolted, stunning Aveross quickly and moving towards Anakin and the cup, until the cup seemed to leap on its own accord, just out of reach. When looking back, Aveross’ eyes had been the only thing that moved.
Judging by the glimmering green light around the triumphant blue cup, it was now obvious that it had been jinxed to escape his touch. As he flexed his burned hand, which hopefully looked far worse than it was, he could see now why it had the reaction that it did when he touched it.
Which meant that the other had been a fake.
He could practically hear the spell break from behind him and that Aveross was no longer still. He caught the man’s chosen spell- a nasty one called sectumsempra, which was amongst the curses that never heal, and shoved it back towards him, catching him by surprise with his own reflexes. This caused a sharp slit across the man’s front and he fell to his knees.
He looked up at him darkly, pain swelling at the forefront of his gaze.
Except Obi-Wan wasn’t looking back at Aveross. He was looking in the eyes of his mentor, Qui-Gon Jinn.
Briefly, his brain stuttered, but only for a moment as he forced himself to see through the trick, to make sense of it. The longer he thought about it, the more he could make out the differences between this imposter and the fallen hero that had been Qui-Gon. It was the eyes, really. They lacked the spark that Qui-Gon’s always held, even to his dying breath.
And Obi-Wan had been quite familiar with that moment, seeing as he bore witness to it not just once, but many times in sleep. Aveross wouldn’t die from this, not from where the spell had backfired against him. Something about that gave Obi-Wan some peace.
It didn’t last though, because the fleeting sense of running out of time was upon him, especially as Dooku thwarted the last of the stone giants in his way.
“Defodio!” Obi-Wan commanded, bursting a hole through the final giant, hoping to at least clip Dooku with some of the explosion. Though he didn’t deal the damage he’d intended to, the dark wizard did appear at the very least slightly winded, and incredibly pissed off.
“So, Ravenclaw’s star pupil wants to be taught a lesson, then class is in session,” He said slowly, taking a deep breath as he paced the perimeter of the graveyard, stepping on broken rubble in his way, before turning to fix Obi-Wan with a neutral look, “Today we will be learning about the unforgivable curses. Starting with, imperio! ”
Obi-Wan moved to perform the counter curse, but it went nowhere, because the curse hadn’t been driven towards him… But on Anakin .
He watched in horror as he slowly rose to full height, looking much taller than Obi-Wan remembered, with eyes a blinding blue that allowed for no whites to be shown.
“I do believe it’s time you fought someone your own size, hm?” Dooku quirked his mouth, amused by this song and dance.
“Please don’t hurt him,” Obi-Wan didn’t want to beg with a Sith lord, and he certainly wouldn’t succumb to his wants no matter the threat, but he couldn’t bear the thought of his promise to Qui-Gon, to Anakin, to end like this.
“Don’t you understand, Obi-Wan?” Dooku laughed a bit, “It is not him I sought to hurt, it is you. This entire tournament, it has always been you .”
“Bombarda!” Anakin’s robotic voice ordered, hitting an explosion just at Obi-Wan’s feet that sent him backwards. Then, when he’d been able to hastily escape that and diffuse the flames, Anakin didn’t wait to expel, “Expulso!”
“Expelliarmus!” Obi-Wan attempted to disarm him, but their beams caught in a standoff, one that Obi-Wan feared the results of. Blue and red stretched across the space of the field, colliding in a hot white ball of fire. Despite Anakin being younger and knowing less spells, this mattered not when he wasn’t in control of his own devices.
Dooku was effectively siphoning the raw energy from Anakin and using it to overpower Obi-Wan. He felt his arms buckle, his knees shake, and his breaths draw heavier. He couldn’t simply hold him forever and he couldn’t perform a countercurse at risk of injuring Anakin.
“How fitting it is that the very person who attacks you, is one you will never fight back,” He said, voicing his thoughts even as they came to him.
“Wake up, Anakin!” Obi-Wan yelled, even if it was futile.
Obi-Wan’s red line grew shorter and shorter as he was losing steam, as Anakin’s only seemed to become more powerful with every growing second.
Exhaustion, that was all Obi-Wan knew, when the curse finally gave out and both spells turned back at him, sending him flying several feet in the air at the impact of such a crash, losing his wand in the process.
He fell on his stomach, breaking several ribs and quite possibly more in the process. He wheezed as he attempted to find strength to stand up.
But he wasn’t given much of an opportunity anyway.
“Why don’t we run through the next curse, Anakin?” Dooku asked calmly.
“No, Anakin!” Obi-Wan yelled, trying to get through to him, but the blue current of crucio’s curse was already escaping the tip of his wand, even if it was a spell Anakin himself hadn’t learned just yet. Dooku stood behind him, like a giant shadow ready to eclipse any lingering remnants of light.
He’d not known agony until he was swept under the line of the cruciatus curse. His body shook violently like it was being electrocuted, only it was much worse. He couldn’t find the space to breathe in between his cries. There was no end in sight and all he could do was scream and howl at the sense of knives digging into every corner of his body.
What they didn’t tell you, was that it not only invaded all of your pain receptors, seemingly sending the body on overdrive, but it made your mind feel as though it was cooking to the point of overheating. He saw images of his life pass before his eyes and turn to fire and smoke.
“My oh my, such power,” he could barely make out Dooku’s voice, “A much better student than you. No wonder Qui-Gon sought to trade you away like you were nothing.”
He cried, shoving away visions of Qui-Gon’s disapproving stare.
“You are nothing.” It was Anakin who said this, though it didn’t sound like him. Black smoke clouded around him and he looked much older and hardly recognizable to the kind spirited boy that made homemade birthday cards and told silly jokes to make people laugh when they were down.
He couldn’t determine how long it went on, but only that it was enough to nearly draw him away from his body. It was different from a dementor’s kiss, though, where the soul slipped from the body like one removed a pair of pants. No, this was as though hooks had driven into his skin and ripped him open slowly, peeling back the layers of sanity miniscule by miniscule.
But when it stopped, it took a moment to heal, taste, smell, or even see anything beyond residual bursts of blue lightning. The heat of his suffering had been so intense that all he could do was shiver where he lay on the grass.
He took several deep breaths through his nose. In and out. In and out. He tried to remember a trick Qui-Gon had taught him years before, when he’d taken a nasty fall in Quidditch and the bone of his leg popped through his skin. He’d almost blacked out then too, but Qui-Gon had maintained his gaze and kept him awake.
“Magic is not just found in the spells we cast, Obi-Wan, but in the strife we overcome. You must ground yourself in the moment, feel the pain and acknowledge it, but cast it away like a raincloud. Like you are the sun, itself.”
It had seemed like a load of dither back then, especially when he was biting on a towel to keep himself from screaming. Surely, if he could, he’d do the same thing now, but he didn’t have any other resources at the moment.
“There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no chaos, there is harmony.
There is no death, there is the Force.”
He’d always wondered what the “force” was, but now, as he drew himself out of that spiraling pit of red that swirled behind his eyelids, he knew it was the very thing that made him a wizard. It was spirit.
Tears trickled from his eyes, down his nose and onto a single blade of grass that he’d fixated on. He forced himself to turn his head to meet the tip of Anakin’s wand.
The boy watched him stoically, unmoving and uncowed by this display.
“Anakin…” He whispered, “It’s me… Remember?”
“It is useless to try and reach him, Obi-Wan,” Dooku said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “He is mine now. It is ironic, because I had fixed all of this just to have you, just to destroy you. But because you have so kindly delivered him to me, I will offer you one last lesson.”
He patted Anakin on the shoulder and turned, as though this business was finished, “The killing curse.”
***
“I’m just so glad we’ll be together again!” He smiled encouragingly, and then tugged on her hand, “You would be shocked to see everything that’s changed! I live with the Kenobis these days and they’ve got more swimming pools than we did holes in our walls!”
“My, that’s a bit excessive,” She said, not moving from where she stood, instead pulling him back, as though steadying him. She was always good at that, “And your grades?”
“Better,” He wasn’t sure why she wanted to talk about something trivial like that right now, during their big reunion, “Windu still has it out for me, but what cares about that? I rode a dragon earlier this year! And I became a waiter, which isn’t nearly as exciting except I did help Satine and Obi-Wan hook up in the process. It’s as gross as it sounds. I had my first dance, platonically, with Padmé! I got to teach my own class and brought down a slimy fraud of a professor with my skills! I-”
“-Ani, Ani, slow down,” She tilted her head, “Tell me, are you happy?”
He frowned, “Well, I am now.”
“No, I mean, beyond this moment. Were you happy?” She asked.
“I guess… Sometimes, I was,” He shrugged and then shook his head, something was buzzing in his chest and for a moment, his vision was warped before he blinked and focused again on his mother, “But I never gave up on you. That’s the reason I did this tournament! To find you and bring you back with me!”
There was something sad in her brown eyes that he couldn’t name. What was there to be sad about now, after all? They were together again and this time, they wouldn’t have to part.
“That breaks my heart a bit,” She admitted and he was truly dumbfounded.
“No, I promise- I swear to you, I’m not going back to Hogwarts. I’ll go to muggle school! Whichever you like and I’ll toss away the whole chosen one champion thing,” He said, “I’ll stay with you and you can be safe, because I’ll protect you-”
“-No, Anakin,” She said in a low voice, turning slightly away from him, “I cannot let you do that.”
“What? Why? You’re the one who was afraid to tell me about all of this stuff!” He gestured wide, even if there was nothing physical to refer to at the present second, “I don’t need to be a hero! I can just be your son and that’ll be enough, right?”
“You have always been enough for me,” She vowed, “But you are more for this world than you understand. I see that now, what I didn’t before.”
“But… I don’t want to leave you again,” He said and the buzzing now felt like pounding. Was this his heart? Was he having a heart attack? “Which is why we’ve gotta get out of here. Wherever here is, anyway.”
Something clicked in his brain, like an itch, but he didn’t scratch it. Instead, he didn’t take his eyes off his mother, as though she might disappear into thin air if he did. That was how it felt the first time. It was as though he’d turned his back and she was taken from him.
Which begged the question…
“Why… Why are you here?” Anakin asked, a lump rising in his throat even if he didn’t understand why.
“I’ve always been here,” She smiled genially and stroked his hair. It was an uncharacteristic change in tone. She almost seemed dreamlike the longer he looked at her. Her image was fuzzy and her skin nearly too bright to be real. It was like she was glowing.
“No, but how?” He pressed, “Surely, you remember.”
“Funny,” She said whimsically, “I don’t really recall. It was as though one moment I was on the train platform with you and the next I was here.”
Anakin took a step back, not to separate himself from her, but as though he were taking a better look. He considered their surroundings again. There was no sign of threat, unless you counted a large tumble down the hill as a possibility. He didn’t even know where they were. Hogwarts nor the forest were in sight. Hell, they stood on top of a mountain in the midst of a barren field, where it rain everywhere but here.
“And where is here?” He asked.
“I think you have that answer better than I do, Anakin.” She said carefully, “You’re the one who came here.”
“I was brought by the cup,” He said suddenly, “And Obi-Wan… Where’s Obi-Wan?”
Panic filled his gut and he got the feeling that nothing was right. His mother, upon another glance, looked more like a reflection in the water rather than a real person. Even her touch was like water slipping through his fingertips.
Then, he realized, it was he that was glowing. That spot at the center of his chest, where he always figured his heart would be, had a beacon of light pouring from it. He didn’t know what it meant, just that his time was limited.
“Where’s Obi-Wan, mum?” He repeated when she didn’t answer. She’d grown rather melancholic again, staring at him as though he was but a memory of someone she used to know rather than her son.
“That’s for you to find out dear, but only if you wish.” She said.
“I can’t leave you,” He begged, falling to his knees, “Not again. I can’t… I can’t take it!”
“You are strong, my dear boy, and you will endure so much, but you have so much love in your life. You cannot forget that. Please don’t throw that all away for me.”
“I choose you though,” He said, looking up at her desperately, “I chose to find you, remember?”
“But not to keep me,” She smiled wistfully, “And I am so proud of you for that. Your choice was clear, even as you fought that horrible monster earlier. You could have claimed the cup for your own taking, but you didn’t. You ran to find your friend.”
“He needed me! But I need you!” He said. “Don’t leave me.”
“Never,” She whispered, “As always, it is up to you. I have fulfilled my purpose in this plain of existence.”
“What purpose is that?” He asked, tears freely rolling down his face.
“Waiting for you to come and find me. To see you again with my own two eyes before…”
“Before what?” He asked, feeling a bit desperate as he clutched her shoulders, gasping as his hands went straight through them.
“Before we are to part again,” She gently removed his hands, kissing them each before resting them at his side, “Do not cry, little love, we will see each other again. I have full faith that you’ll find me. And if you find yourself lonely, I will always be with you.”
“In real life?”
“Anything is real if it lives in your heart.” She pressed her lips to his hair and Anakin’s eyes fluttered closed. He took a moment to relish in this comfort, unknowing if he would ever have it again, but knowing that when he opened his eyes, she would be gone.
If those you loved were ever really gone, that is.
***
“I’m so sorry, Anakin,” Obi-Wan croaked, consciousness fading as the weight of his injuries caught up to him. “Just know, this isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. You’re like my little brother, no matter what happens here. And- And if you find yourself lonely, I will always be with you.”
But just as Anakin moved to complete the spell, the necklace that hung from his neck turned a brilliant blue and Obi-Wan was dumbstruck to find his eyes return to normal, absent of any trace of possession. Somehow… Some way, despite how impossible that sounded, Anakin Skywalker and that necklace broke the imperius curse. And there was no time to consider what or how he did it. He looked confused and terribly upset, but they simply couldn’t afford to lose this sudden brilliant advantage offered to them. He raised his finger to his lips, indicating that he not say anything to give them away.
“The cup.” He mouthed.
Anakin understood, his eyes peering to the side to where the cup now rested near Obi-Wan’s intended grave plot. He knelt down, as though he were going to get close to apply the spell.
“This will be the end of you, Obi-Wan Kenobi.” Anakin said stiffly, as though he were trying to give off the impression that he was still possessed.
“It’s about time,” Dooku said, “Finish him and then we will overthrow the dark lord himself.”
“Save yourself,” Obi-Wan whispered, just soft enough that only Anakin would hear.
Instead, the boy shook his head slowly.
He turned around on his heels, “Lux caeca!” He shot the starburst of light straight towards Dooku, who had been sufficiently caught off guard by the jinx that stars swirled around him, dizzying him and sending him tripping into the empty grave.
“What? How?”
But Anakin didn’t wait for what Dooku had to say or do next, “Accio TriWizard Cup!”
Sure enough, the cup didn’t have the same resistance effect on Anakin, as it bursted from its spot on the ground and into the boy’s hands. Before grasping it, Anakin gripped tightly onto Obi-Wan’s burned and battered hand.
“Your fate will be the same as mine.” He said before everything began to twist and cascade into light.
Just before they completely vanished, Dooku had managed to crawl from his pit and tossed Obi-Wan’s wand- pointed and sharp right into the flurry of distortion.
***
Satine wasn’t sure if her heart would ever stop pounding. Time was stretching cruelly with the professors arguing together near the edge of the forest and the students quietly whispering to each other.
“What if they died? Would we even know?” A Ravenclaw said a little too loudly to their friend. Awkwardly they turned and saw Satine’s furious glare, eyes wide and desperately searching. She was sure, by the way the younger Ravenclaw’s eyes widened and how they ducked their head that she had to look deranged at the least. She refused to even consider such a horrible thought, even if it was logically crawling around her brain like a centipede. Each of its hundred legs being another horrifying thought about what on earth could have happened.
The goblet, the shark, the dementors, they’d known this tournament was rigged from the start. No one had believed them. They were too young to be taken seriously, but not too old to di-
She gripped Cody’s hand tighter. When the sky had gone dark he’d taken her hand, staring up at the blank sky without a single word. Uncharacteristically quiet even now. Words had been stolen from the both of them, like the dark sky swallowed them whole. All they had was each other in a pit of madness.
With her other hand she had pulled Obi-Wan’s jacket tighter around her shoulders, “Hold onto this for me,” that’s what he’d said, what he’d asked. It felt now like the only thing she could do for him… It was the only thing she could do for him.
They felt alone, even if that wasn’t the case. Somewhere in the audience were others who cared for Anakin, who cared for Obi-Wan. Not like she did though, she had decided selfishly. She’d just gotten him, he’d finally let himself escape from a horrible world just to be sent…
Somewhere.
Quinlan and Hera were standing together watching the professors deliberate. Although both had seemed upset about being shoved out of the competition they were still now, holding their breath, waiting. Satine was about to turn, to look at Cody, to say something even if she hadn’t a clue what-
A powerful wind swept through the stadium, like the molecules in the air were forcefully being pushed aside. There was a crack and then cheering, so much cheering as Anakin and Obi-Wan appeared. Anakin was holding the cup high above his head. Gryffindor streamers burst into the air red and gold twisting and falling around the two boys. Obi-Wan had landed standing, but he was turned away from her. Anakin’s wide eyes held no glory, only panic. His mouth moved forming Obi-Wan’s name as his mentor let go of his hand and pressed it to his chest-
Someone in the front of the audience screamed, and it turned into a chorus of shouting.
Blood was pooling under his blue and silver shirt where a long thin object portruded. He staggered, and then fell. Silence fell just as harshly.
“MOVE!” Satine shouted, and as if she’d casted a spell the audience split down the middle. She scrambled, her hand ripping away from Cody as she barrelled down and over the barrier. She forced her way past the foolish hands of Aurors. Running across the field, every step she was noticing another horrible detail. Like how his right arm was bent in many different angles, turning colors. His fingers were mangled and twisted to match. Each breath he took seemed like a frightful amount of effort. His mouth was twisted into a pained grimace and he seemed to be trying awfully hard to keep quiet.
Anakin was speaking to him, saying something Satine could not hear, even with the close proximity as she fell to her knees with no thought of jarring to her own body. Not when Ben’s was hardly there at all. She had a hand on him as quick as she could, turning him so he was laying in her arms, where she tried not to look at the bit of wood taking residence through his body, but instead at the painstricken eyes gazing at her with only a small amount of recognition.
“Ben,” she whispered, shock rolling through her as she fiercely brushed his hair out of his face, out of the blood , “Ben!”
“I-it was Dooku,” Anakin stuttered, his voice a terrified whisper. If she had any eyes for him she would have seen the white knuckled grip he had, still holding onto the trophy.
But she had no eyes from him, only her best friend, the boy she’d finally after 7 years been allowed to truly be with. Recognition had formed in his expression, still, even broken and mangled in her arms, held a glint of affection in his eyes, for her . She shifted and he gave a soft cry of pain, feeling the way his ribs shifted of their own volition and he turned to cough, blood dripping over his lips. Satine felt her blood run cold.
He was watching her again, lips moving to say her name, but it hardly came out sounding like anything before he was coughing again harshly. She cradled him as gently as she could with her arms like jello and her whole form shaking. For Ben’s credit he just looked frustrated with himself, taking an awful shallow breath, he tried and failed to say her name again.
“Stop it Ben,” She hadn’t realized she’d started to cry until she heard it in her own voice. She could see he was slowly losing the battle with consciousness. Before she could try and keep him awake for the healers that were rushing onto the field, she felt his better hand, still burnt and bruised, grasp the knot of her tie with a force she didn’t think he could still possess.
She was pulled down forcefully, narrowly avoiding getting stabbed with his wand herself. He kissed her desperately . Like there was something he was trying to tell her and like he could think of no better way than kissing her with reverence .
“Before I go, I need you to know that I-”
“Tell me after.”
There had been something he’d wanted to tell her, but she’d made him wait .
One of her hands moved to support his head, slipping on his blood, but if this is what he wanted. If he wanted to kiss her in what was possibly his last moments-
She let out a sob as he pulled away. His face was blurring under her tears, but she didn’t need to see clearly to feel the tension leaking out of his body. His neck lost its strength and his head lulled under her careful hold.
“Ben?” Her voice was strangled, she was choking, not just on her tears, but her heart. She felt his soft breath on her face once more, but not again as his body stilled.
“Ben!” She shook him, she knew she shouldn’t, but she did anyways. There were hands on her suddenly, ripping him out of her arms. Taking him away from her.
“BEN!” She wailed. Her pain, her panic, her grief twisted her voice into something she’d never heard before. But he was dying and he was being taken away . If she cried and acted quite unlike how a Head Girl should behave than it was his fault , “ BEN! ”
She would have to hope he would make it through, his blue eyes would open back up and she’d blame him for causing a scene. She’d yell at him, but then he’d laugh and apologize even though he had no right too. She was crying so hard, sobbing into her arms as she let him slip away from her sight.
Anakin had moved to sit beside her, she could feel his shoulder right next to hers, he didn’t say anything, just sat there breathing wildly. More footsteps and then another form sat on her other side. She looked up through water vision at Cody who was being watched carefully by an Auror with a black eye. Cody was sporting a cut across his nose that hadn't been there five terribly long minutes ago. He wrapped an arm around her without so much as a glance and although his wasn’t the embrace that she wanted right then she fell into it.
It wasn’t really that long before she was given the clear to follow after Ben. He’d been taken swiftly to the hospital wing and although Satine feared terribly what she would find when she got there she did not hesitate in her steps. Anakin walked alongside her. They were walking too slowly, much too slowly.
Now that she was caught alone with the third year, she felt obliged to turn and look at him. After all she was a prefect and he was a thirteen year old boy who had clearly just witnessed horrors she didn’t want to imagine. She tried on a mask of maturity, she wasn’t sure how Obi-Wan was so good at it.
“Are you alright? You weren’t hurt?” She managed to ask, voice still wavering with tears. Anakin looked up at her through his eyelashes as if to hide.
“I’m alright,” He was quieter than she’d ever heard him. He very clearly hesitated before continuing, “It’s all my fault.”
Satine felt cold as her expression tried to twist to scrutiny, “What?”
“Something happened, with the cups,” He explained, eyes tracing the lines of the trophy, glittering in his hands, like it was the ugliest thing he’d ever seen, “When I came too I- well I didn’t really. I was trapped somewhere with my mum and I,” He cut himself off both hands clutching the cup like he didn’t trust them to do anything else, “I wanted to stay with her.”
Satine didn’t have time to say anything before he’d spun to her begging, pleading for understanding, “I swear if I had known, If I’d have realized I’d have broken through sooner! I didn’t want Obi-Wan to get hurt. I didn’t know Dooku was there,” Anakin ran a hand through his hair, “I just- She’s my mum and I was so happy to see her that I didn’t even consider that it was all in my head.”
“Sounds like a powerful charm,” Satine pursed her lips, considering. She knew several ways to put someone to sleep, but not to have them dream or hallucinate. Especially not something that likely had been very vivid to trick Anakin.
“I didn’t mean to take so long,” Anakin wiped away a stray tear, “I- I woke up and I saw him and he- well you saw.”
“I’m glad you weren’t hurt,” Satine managed, choking down grim memories of Obi-Wan shaking and pale. Red blood… “You managed to see through the lies, and I’m grateful for it.”
“Even though Obi-Wan was hurt? Ev-even if it was my fault?” He asked guiltily.
“This wasn’t your fault,” Satine believed it, “Of course I’m glad you're okay. This whole tournament has been bloody awful. Ben’s had a target on his back the entire time.”
They walked in silence for a moment as they finally, finally had the hospital wing doors in sight.
“He shouldn’t have even entered this tournament,” She reminded him, “Though you shouldn’t have either. None of this would have happened in the first place if it hadn’t been for-”
She pulled open the door to the hospital wing and froze, an ugly and quite unbecoming sneer making its way onto her face.
His parents were here.
Quietly and calmly, Satine turned towards Anakin. She took a deep breath and then another.
“Wait here,” She left no room for argument, using her best Head Girl voice, “There’s something I need to take care of.”
When she entered, she entered alone.
She walked over towards where they stood just a bit away from a closed curtain. Medical staff still fluttered in and out, but she paid them no mind. His parents didn’t turn to look at her, though she wished they would have started this conversation, she had no problem taking a turn.
“I don’t believe you’ve been invited here,” Satine’s voice did shake, only a little and certainly not enough to be worried about.
“I don’t need an invite to see my son on his deathbed,” His mother did not turn, but her face was not caring, only cold.
“According to the law? You do,” Satine moved so they would be forced to see her, even if it was out of their peripherals, “And I know for a fact you are no longer listed as his contacts.”
“That boy doesn’t know what’s good for him,” His father gripped his cane with force, likely imagining a scenario where he could hit Satine with it and not find himself in jail, “He’s a Kenobi, he needs us. Whether he likes it or not.”
“He has everything he needs,” She defended, fists curling “And he knows more good than you ever will.”
“You’re referring to yourself then,” His father shook his head.
“Not just me,” She shook her head, thinking about how at ease he was before the tournament, before- before-
“You’re still so naive to the way this world works, Kryze.”
“Blood isn’t everything,” She scowled, “As much as you believe it to be. Your son has found family where you’ve offered none.”
“He betrayed his family,” His mother said darkly, “I’d be careful before he betrays yours.”
“You need to leave,” She moved again, placing herself in front of them, “Now! I won’t be having you here when he wakes up.”
His mother scoffed quietly, “ If he wakes up, don’t you think he’d want to have a discussion with the people who know what’s best for him?”
“I do,” Satine gritted her teeth, trying not to throw up about agreeing with Mrs. Kenobi even if it wasn’t in the way she thought, “Which is why I’m aski- telling you to. Get. Out.”
His mother made like she was going to move forward, but his father raised a hand and shooed her away. Practically growling, she turned away.
“I can’t believe I raised such a weak son that he’d need to get a mudblood to fight his battles for him,” He shot a glare out of the corner of his eye to Satine, “I won’t make such a mistake with the next one.”
Anakin. He was talking about Anakin.
“He doesn’t need me to fight his battles for him,” Satine made sure to declare, fists hanging stiffly at her side, “But I will anyways because I-” she wanted to say something else, “care for him, something I know you do not.”
“He’s running out of time to crawl back to us,” His father didn’t even look perturbed by the accusation. He simply checked his pocket watch and walked past his wife towards the exit.
His mother waited one moment longer, just enough time for a nurse to pause beside her and smile without knowing the beast she was talking to, “He’s stable again,” The nurse looked at Mrs. Kenobi with so much warmth that it would have almost been humorous when she stared down her nose at her with a cold uncaringly icy glare. Almost.
“How unfortunate to hear.” She turned and the nurse looked properly stricken, “It seems I have no son after all.”
Satine sat on the bed facing Obi-Wan’s curtain and waited.
She felt horribly weary as the night marched on. Nurses slowly stopped drifting in and out of the curtain. They tried to convince her to rest, to eat. She did not. It was only as the sun began to rise and color began leaking through the tall windows that she found cause to move from her position at all.
A weak cough from behind the curtain.
She didn’t bother to wait for a nurse. She stood ignoring all instructions that had been previously given to her by peeling back the slim fabric that had kept her separated from him for long enough.
He lay still on the cot, head bandaged and chest wrapped up. Even with the bulk of wrappings however she could see the rise and fall with his weak breaths. Dawn light fell across his face, his eyes were still closed and she sighed, feeling silly for wishing he’d be awake. She turned to resume her watchful position on the adjacent cot when she felt a soft touch on her hand.
She whirled around and caught his just barely cracked open deep blue eyes in hers. She immediately rushed to hold his hand, sitting just on the edge of his bed lest her legs give out from under her.
“Ben,” his name fell off her tongue so quietly she was surprised he heard it at all, but he shifted where he lay. A small gasp of pain had her placing her other hand on his shoulder to deter him from moving further.
“Sat-tine,” his voice was hoarse and it was clearly still a struggle for him to speak.
“No absolutely not,” She moved her hand from his shoulder to his lips to quiet him before brushing his hair back again. His eyelids fluttered under the touch, “Don’t move, I’m going to get a healer and some water, alright?” She found herself brushing back his hair again and again, her hands shaking so bad, but finding comfort in touch. Even still she made to get up to leave him, if only for a minute, but he made an awful struggle to sit up. It only took a gentle push to knock him back down to the cot.
“N-no, Satine,” His voice was coated in pain, clearly he needed some potions in him quickly, but he held onto her hand like a lifeline. It was more than enough convincing to have her sitting right back down again.
“What is it? Are you in pain? I’m sure you’re overdo for several potions, darling,” She fretted. Her free hand hovering over his chest, but terrified to touch him.
“I need-” He coughed, coughed again. His breath practically falling into a wheeze as he stared at the ceiling for a moment dazed, “I need to tell you,” He still managed to continue and she moved to lean over him from above so he would hopefully stop moving around, “What I wanted to tell you be- before the tournament,” She sighed, caressing his face softly, thinking very hard about how it looked now and not how it looked covered in blood.
“That can wait Ben,” Satine told him sternly, “You need to focus on healing right now.”
“No!” He forced himself up into a sitting position so suddenly that it was all Satine could do to catch him as he choked down a cry of pain.
“Ben you idiot!” Satine exclaimed, “You’re going to make it worse-”
“Satine!” He raised his voice, as loud as he could make it, and raised the hand wrapped in thick gauze to the side of her face. The look in his eyes… It was the same desperation he’d had when he’d kissed her. She held onto him tightly supporting his weight since his body could not.
“Yes?” She asked quietly. She looked into his eyes, so blue and even through the pain they were clear and certain. He held an air of complete seriousness and it made her shutter, pushing down anxiety over what could be more important than him resting right now-
“I love you,” Such a simple phrase, but said by his voice and with a level of absolute devotion she wondered suddenly, if only for a minute, if she was worthy of it. If she deserved it.
“You chose now to tell me? Right now? ” Because of course she’d known deep down, even if she was letting herself be in denial about it for her own composure.
“I wanted to tell you,” He wheezed, “But you told me to wait. I’m tired of waiting.”
“Right now? Right after you were surely to die?” She found herself repeating, eyes blurring. She tried to wipe away the tears with her arm, but didn’t have enough hands to do so properly.
“I’d be happy to tell you again and again and again, until we find the most suitable time,” He used his hand already on her face to wipe away the tears before they could fall, “I love you,” He repeated.
“Damn you, Ben,” She couldn’t help, but laugh. A short relieved, watery laugh, “I love you too,” He let his head drop onto her shoulder as he struggled to catch his breath. She had no trouble letting him. She held him close her hand stroking through his hair over and over and over.
“I think you should keep the jacket,” His voice was muffled, but she heard him. She pushed him up so she could look at him in confusion, he gave a wheezy sort of chuckle, “We get to match that way,” He pointed towards his clean and mended jersey folded on his side table, “I like that we match,” He grinned a loopy sort of smile.
“We match all the time?” She reminded him, “We’re in the same house and all.”
“Ah yes,” He admitted, “But I like this too, Mrs. Head Girl.” He was looking at her in adoration so much so that she felt a little overwhelmed by it all. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“I think it’s about time for you to go back to sleep, Mr. Head Boy,” She shook her head, but she was still smiling.
“I’m not too late am I?” She turned to see Cody, standing just at the edge of the curtain. He had a bandage keeping together the cut on his nose and looked warily at the scene in front of him. Like he didn’t want to intrude, but Ben gave a little pat to the space on the other side of the bed.
“Where have you been?” Satine raised an eyebrow, because while she’d had her mind on other things, it did seem odd he hadn’t barreled in here earlier.
“Had to get questioned by a couple Aurors,” He shrugged as Ben gave him an odd look while Satine gently lowered him back down towards the pillows.
“What happened to your face?” Ben asked and Cody just gave his arm a very gentle pat.
“Just a misunderstanding, nothing to worry about,” He squirmed under both their gazes.
“I thought we established you’re an awful liar Cody Fett,” Satine answered for the both of them making sure Ben stayed quiet.
“ Anyways ,” He clearly didn’t want to talk about it, not that Satine needed him too. She could put two and two together. She’d have done the same thing if they’d tried to stop her, “I had to give the Headmasters a piece of my mind,” He changed the subject, “We’ve been telling them this whole bloody year that this things been rigged and they’ve just sat around twiddling their thumbs!”
“That’s not true-” Ben tried to start, but Satine simply covered his mouth with her hand. He gave her a weak glare, but it wasn’t substantial enough for her to budge.
“You’ve done enough talking,” She told Ben, though it was more warm than stern. He loved her, she couldn’t be too mad after all. She turned back to Cody, “You didn’t start another war with the Hutts did you? Because I think we’ve had enough of that.”
“Stars of course not Satine,” He rolled his eyes, “I’ve had enough with the Hutt clan this year, trust me. Plus it’s not like any of them particularly wanted to listen to me, even if Headmaster Yoda is good at pretending,” He hesitated, “The reporters might have heard me though.”
Satine ripped her hand away from Ben’s mouth quickly. Staring at him with wide betrayed eyes, “Did you just lick me?” She said aghast, “Obi-Wan Kenobi!”
Said Obi-Wan Kenobi just huffed out the ghost of a laugh before turning to Cody, “Let’s hope not. I think we’ve had enough of them too.”
***
Traditionally, the award ceremony following the final task was hosted only moments after it was completed, with all champions being honored for their participation and commended for their ability to survive the ordeal. Between the dramatic betrayal revealed within Valorum’s own cabinet, the speculations of whether or not the rankings should still stand, and of course, Obi-Wan Kenobi’s near death, it was postponed a few days so that the headmasters and officials had time to ruminate and investigate.
Hera and Quinlan were also interviewed, both by press and by Aurors, and though it initially sounded like they’d been ripped off, neither complained when they heard what became of Obi-Wan and Anakin. Even the Hutts were relatively quiet, especially after it leaked that Gunray was in Dooku’s pocket in order to purposely turn the Hutts and Durmstrang against the Ministry of Magic.
Everyone was mostly caught up on the deadly attack from Dooku and what it meant going forward. Aurors were in and out of the hospital wing, all having chats with Obi-Wan as well as Anakin, who spent the majority of the day at his mentor’s bedside. A few others popped in, including professors and friends, who were more concerned about the Head Boy’s health than the results.
Seeing as Anakin had nearly forgotten they’d been in a contest at all, he was quite okay with that.
“Everyone’s acting like I’ve returned from the dead,” Obi-Wan commented after kindly accepting a bouquet of daisies from Luminara and her mentee, Barriss. Students who had even been rooting against him were dropping off gifts of all ranges.
“To be fair, there is a rumor circling around that your arm was hanging off by a thread,” Anakin said as he flipped through Batman’s latest adventure fighting the Joker. The past couple of days waiting for Obi-Wan to fully recover allowed him the opportunity to finally catch up on comics. Obi-Wan, to his credit, had already moved on to studying as though the transition between worrying about the tournament to NEWTS was as seamless as breathing.
“Where on earth did that come from?” He asked.
“I dunno, it looked pretty flimsy to me,” Anakin said with raised hands in defeat, “Madame Nema said it was shattered in so many places that she had to just grow new bones from scratch.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” He said, wincing as he adjusted himself on the little cot. He was definitely looking better by the day, and certainly loads better than how he’d been knocking at death’s door in the graveyard. Anakin shivered just thinking about how pale and bloodstained he’d been, pleading with him to save himself.
But now, he’d regained that spark in his eyes and the color in his face. The many cuts and bruises, no matter how deep, had been healed, as well as any regular broken bones. His head was thankfully deemed fit to be free of gause, but it was still funny to see his hair messy and askew.
The arm that had to be regrown was still in a sling, as it took time to be done right, and his torso was still wrapped from the splinching. That also took time to properly care for and heal, unlike most physical injuries.
He glanced towards Obi-Wan’s dominant hand. The fingers that had been broken had since healed and retained full dexterity, but his palm was curiously still wrapped with a blue bandage that was soaked with a clear paste. He didn’t know about that wound or why it wasn’t so easily fixed. Anakin wasn’t going to pretend he was on the level of healer that Madame Nema was. He doubted anyone could or should.
“Plus, most don’t stick around the hospital wing for longer than a night,” Anakin offered and shrugged, “People worry.”
Obi-Wan’s glance softened and he used his wrapped hand to give Anakin’s shoulder a light squeeze. If it hurt, he didn’t give any indication of this. Instead, he just smiled a bit, “The only thing to worry about is my ability to stay on top of thank you cards.”
“It’s a good thing though, isn’t it?” Anakin thoughtfully asked after a moment, “That people care so much about you.”
“It is,” He confirmed, sitting back against the fluffy pillows that had been provided to him. He looked over to the desk beside him, which was practically covered in cards, treats, and flowers. Many of which were from the various students tutored by Obi-Wan that year, “I feel quite lucky to care and be cared for this much. Even if it’s a bit overwhelming at times.”
“Don’t worry, if you need someone to share all those sweets with, I’ve got your back,” Anakin winked and Obi-Wan laughed.
“Duly noted, my friend,” He passed over a box of peppermint frogs as he said it.
“What do you think they’ll do about Dooku?” Anakin asked.
Just when Obi-Wan opened his mouth to answer, the curtain allowing for the only morsel of privacy really allotted in the open hospital wing swung aside to reveal Professor Palpatine being trailed by two Aurors- an intense hairless Umbaran with white irises to her eyes and a gaunt gentleman wearing a large fur-skin hat.
“Apologies for interrupting, boys,” Palpatine offered kindly, “But these are two close friends of mine with the Auror’s department. This is detective Sly Moore and her partner, Sim Aloo. They’re trying to track down that dastardly Dooku and put a stop to him before he hurts anyone else.”
Though more excited for the first few batches of Aurors they got to talk to, Obi-Wan and Anakin were basically used to it at this point. However, it was rather curious that Professor Palpatine didn’t leave them alone. Instead, he shut the curtain around them, including himself in the mix of adults that crowded the already small quarters. Additionally, the other Aurors liked speaking to Obi-Wan and Anakin separately, wanting both sides of the story.
“I don’t understand why you all can’t just share our statements amongst yourselves,” Anakin pointed out, “We’ve pretty much told the same story ten times at this rate.”
“Please humor us for number eleven, Mr. Skywalker,” Sim Aloo said with a weary smile. The man didn’t look like he’d ever had a good night's sleep and his head was much too small for the hat that he wore. Sly Moore, on the other hand, was so alert that Anakin couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably beneath her snowy gaze.
“We’ll try and keep this short,” She said in a voice that very much matched her haunting appearance. Anakin could see how she would be useful in the form of an interrogation, “How did you get to the grave that night?”
“The cup,” Anakin and Obi-Wan both answered with ease and Obi-Wan clarified further, “It was jinxed to be a portkey.”
“And why did you both reach for it?” Sim Aloo asked, “Did you intend on tying?”
“I felt like we both deserved it because we both found a cup,” Anakin said with a shrug, “It was a pretty nasty trick if you think about it, since Hera and Quinlan also thought they won.”
“And their cups brought them out of the forest,” Obi-Wan said, “I believe mine was a fake as well, which led me to the forest.”
“And why would Dooku jinx your cup and not Anakin’s?” Aloo asked and then raised a wrinkly hand, “No offense.”
“None taken,” Obi-Wan assured diplomatically, “Dooku told me he never had intentions of killing Anakin. It was me he wanted dead. So, that leads me to believe that Anakin uncovered the real cup, which was the one that brought us back to the arena.”
“Interesting,” Sly pinched her ghostly chin, “But what was to prevent you from finding the true cup and someone else finding the decoy that led them to the graveyard?”
“That’s easy,” Obi-Wan then began to unravel the bandage on his hand before showing the circular burn mark on his hand. Anakin winced just looking at it, it looked so painful, “The cup was cursed in more ways than one.”
“That Dooku truly thought everything through,” Palpatine sighed mournfully, “He always was a bright one, I’m afraid.”
“Well, almost everything,” Anakin said, “He didn’t account for me being there.”
“No,” Obi-Wan agreed and steadied his gaze on him again, “He didn’t. Anakin is the reason we’re both alive. He thought and acted quickly and saved my life. I’m only here because of him.”
Anakin suddenly felt quite flush under such blatant praise. It was the sort of weighted recognition and respect he’d wanted all year, but it was heavy to bear. Especially when he thought about how he almost gave in to the temptation of staying locked in his mind with his mother.
“And I am so glad that he did,” Palpatine said, “Otherwise, we surely would have lost a great wizard.”
“I’ve noticed that you’ve come out of this fairly unscathed, Anakin,” Sly said smoothly and then she averted her cold gaze to Obi-Wan, who didn’t freeze under the pressure as Anakin did, “Whereas Obi-Wan looks a bit more battered. How is that the case? For Hogwarts’ Head Boy to be so injured while you are okay?”
“Anakin was knocked out the entire time,” Obi-Wan said tightly and it was so abrupt that Anakin turned his head to him, surprised he’d been quick to answer that for him. Of course Anakin had been knocked out the entire time. What else could he have been doing? “He woke up and saved me when Dooku wasn’t paying attention.”
That was the truth, yes, but Obi-Wan looked contemplative, like more had gone down while Anakin was unconscious. He hadn’t exactly told him everything, which considering all he’d been through, was to be expected. However, it did make Anakin wonder if he was trying to hide anything on purpose.
“So, what was his intent then? To just leave the boy there?” Sim Aloo pondered.
“He wanted to kidnap him and overthrow his master,” Obi-Wan said, looking between all of them, “Which he confirmed the name of to me. The other Sith Lord’s name is Darth Sidious.”
“How… Interesting of him to reveal such a piece of information so crucial,” Palpatine said in a low, thoughtful voice. His eyes looked far off, like he was considering a million different things, “How can we be sure of his honesty?”
“Why lie?” Obi-Wan asked, “He thought I was to die and moreover, he’d expressed gratitude in my bringing Anakin there. It was as though we were two birds, one stone for him.”
“I see,” Palpatine nodded, “There is much to think about then, if we want to apprehend this lord Sidious.”
“Indeed,” Sly Moore said simply before rising once again, “Well, not to worry, boys, because Dooku ought to be scurrying into the shadows with the crews we have out in search of him. He will live to regret what he’s done.”
“Yes,” Palpatine agreed, “He most certainly will.”
***
“I don’t know about you, but it is a lot easier to eat and breathe without any more of that tournament nonsense going on,” Cody said as he inhaled a large clump of meatloaf. Satine was fairly certain the Quidditch star hadn’t even allowed himself the space to chew and was instead shoving it straight down his gullet.
Even with that in mind, several girls, regardless of house or school, watched with interest while whispering about his muscles or chiseled jaw.
“If you choke, I’m not giving you mouth to mouth,” Satine said as she doled out a second plate to her right with the intent on bringing it to Obi-Wan. “Which by the way, I hadn’t noticed you experiencing much difficulty eating this entire year, so I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Not to my fullest potential,” He pointed out. “Besides, Kenobi wouldn’t want me to go hungry on his account.”
“No, that is true,” She said, “Though I think your concept of hungry is a bit different than the average human being’s.”
“I’m an athlete,” He shrugged, going for seconds, “Gotta have my energy!”
She snorted and was ready to continue parrying back and forth in this conversation when Headmaster Yoda tapped his claw against his chalice at the front of the great hall. After a few dings, the steady chatter dimmed to eventual attentiveness. At his side were both representatives from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, even if Bib Fortuna appeared to want to be anywhere else but here.
“Your attention, may I have?” Yoda asked, even if he already managed to acquiesce it. No one really knew what was coming next, as the past week had been such a rollercoaster in its own right.
He unraveled a very large scroll that appeared to be stamped by the Minister of Magic. Satine was too far to see any real details, but those around her started whispering about it.
“Come to an agreement, we have,” Yoda said, glancing to either of his compatriots. All looked painfully neutral, even with the rivalries in mind. “Terrible, Dooku’s interference was. Make a fool of us, he will not. Still celebrated, these champions should be. Defeat the odds against them, they have.”
A few slow claps broke through the crowd, though it didn’t really catch on to a full-blown applause. What did any of this really mean, actually? They’d basically confirmed that the tournament had been riddled with infiltration that was geared in a very specific direction. Namely, whatever direction got Obi-Wan Kenobi to an early grave the fastest.
And did anyone actually care about who won at this point? Or was this all to show some forced display of agreement and unity? She wasn’t sure if that was a good or fair thing at all, since there was no real demonstration of skill or merit in the first place. It was all just a big trap cultivated by Dooku and his followers.
“Winners they all should be considered,” Yoda said that part like he meant it before reading what was in front of him, “Go forth with an award ceremony we will, per the vote of TriWizard officiants. Show Dooku and others of his creed that stronger, we are, when together. Together, we shall be.”
Satine’s eyes drifted to Bib Fortuna’s, who were steeled straight ahead to the back of the room, staring at nothing. Nala Se clapped amicably, but it was obvious that neither were pleased at the outcome here. Even Yoda seemed unsure that naming a victor to this botched tournament was a good idea.
“Said, that being,” Yoda continued, “Undetermined, the future of the TriWizard tournament is, for leave us open to attack, it does.”
Especially if the hypocrisy bleeds so close to the Minister of Magic, himself. Satine wasn’t even sure about Valorum these days. She released a puff of air at the small victory offered to them at this moment. She bit her tongue to prevent herself from commenting that there shouldn’t have been a tournament this year either, not with everything happening all around them. All four champions were dangled for slaughter and they were damn lucky that none had met such a fate.
Her heart twisted at the thought of how terribly close Obi-Wan had come to that.
“At 8 pm tonight, we will all gather,” Yoda announced, “In celebration of Anakin Skywalker. The true champion, he is.”
While Gryffindor made quite the racket all around them, picking up Anakin and tossing him up and down in the air in congratulations, Satine remained seated, not surprised at this turn of events, but still displeased. It wasn’t as though she thought that Obi-Wan should just be given the cup, but she did think they should have at least called it all a tie. That certainly would have promoted more unity in the end.
But she didn’t really care who won, because in the end, she’d gotten the minimum of what she wanted really, and that was for everyone to make it out alive and in one piece. She once again bristled at how close it had been for that not to have been the case.
Yoda and the professors didn’t even try to calm down Gryffindor house, as they were truly a beast to be reckoned with when they claimed victory. The other houses usually rolled their eyes and treated them like the very loud little siblings that needed their egos stroked every now and then. Slytherin looked perturbed, even if they never had much of a stake in this to begin with.
She was quite amused by the lion decor they had on retainer, which she could only assume they carried everywhere, just in case they might be recognized. It was a big year for them, she supposed, since they had won the quidditch cup as well.
It wasn’t until they all started roaring together that she started to cringe a bit. Even Cody had hopped in on it, as he was not the sort to pass up house spirit.
“Down, boy,” She tugged on his robe, urging him back into his seat as things began to die down a bit. “Save it for the award ceremony.”
“Look, the little guy deserves the praise,” He shrugged, “You know I would have been just as hype for Kenobi.”
“I know,” She said, though when she looked over to Anakin, he wasn’t smiling in the midst of the praise he was receiving, “I just wonder if this is the right move.”
“He did get the cup.” He said.
“Yes, after obvious intervention,” Satine said, “I’m not disputing that Anakin performed admirably, but let’s not pretend this wasn’t set to be this way. Hera, Quinlan, and Ben all came across their own cups in the end too. How can there be a winner of a tournament that was skewed to begin with?”
“I don’t know, but Skywalker outwitted a Sith lord,” Cody said, “That’s a pretty big deal.”
“Like I said, I’m not denying that,” She said, “But it feels hollow when the others were set to a different scale, namely Ben.”
“You certainly don’t look upset that they’re thinking of calling off future tournaments,” He pointed out, “I think they should just stick to Quidditch.”
She chuckled, “I can’t believe I’m agreeing with you on that front.”
At least Quidditch was meant to be enjoyed by viewers and participants, even if that’s not the perspective she’d been given his whole time.
“Not that Ben would like the attention, but I also think it’s a bit distasteful to hold the ceremony when he can’t even show up.” Satine added, “I mean, they’ve already put it off this long. Why not wait until he can stand on the stands with the others?”
“And why can’t he?” Cody asked.
“I’m sorry, have you been stuck with your head in the dirt for the past few days?” Satine asked crossly, “He’s still too weak, Cody.”
“Maybe…”
“Cody, I don’t like that tone!” She warned him, “Do not do what I think you’re thinking.”
“Oh come on, you’re smart, but not mind-reading smart,” He countered, “There’s no way you know what I’m thinking.”
“You’re thinking of breaking Ben out of the hospital wing by distracting Madame Nema with a ridiculous prank supplied by your brothers and smuggling him into that ceremony, probably by method of your broom, and dropping him right on stage just in the nick of time,” She accused. “No matter how ill-advised and dangerous that would be!”
“... Okay, it wasn’t definitely going to be my broom,” He said.
“Cody!”
“What? I’d hate for it to break when I’ve got Quidditch tryouts so soon!”
“You’re impossible,” She shook her head, “You better promise not to do anything crazy or dangerous.”
“Fine,” He sighed, “I promise not to do anything crazy or dangerous.”
***
“Cody, why did you bring a gigantic lion pinata into the hospital wing?” Kenobi asked, peering over the top of his textbook. Cody didn’t understand how he could read at a time like this. Apparently, he’d hardly been fazed when he heard there was to be a ceremony without him, just that he was concerned if everyone would make it back in time for curfew.
“Because your girlfriend said nothing about doing anything stupid .” Cody said simply.
“I hope you realize that doesn’t answer my question,” He said dryly. “Since I have no real idea what you’re referring to. With that in mind, I must side with Satine on the basis that she is usually right about your more eccentric plans.”
“You’re going to that ceremony tonight,” Cody popped the head off of the lion, showing the pinata to be empty. “And this is how.”
Kenobi watched him for a moment, posing enough interest that he actually closed and set aside his book to give him his undivided attention. Though likely a number of responses swirled around his head, the one given to Cody was most surprising of all, “Really, a Trojan Horse?”
“Horse?” Cody frowned, “This is obviously a lion, mate.”
Maybe Kenobi wasn’t in the best of shape to be exposed to the public.
“I know that,” He rolled his eyes, “It’s an expression that refers to a wooden horse said to have been used by the Greeks, during the Trojan War, to enter the city of Troy and win the war. The Greeks piled in their army into the hollowed-out horse to surprise and invade the city.”
“Well, did it work for them?” Cody asked.
“Supposedly it ended the war,” He said thoughtfully, “Though seeing as such an occurrence was never documented in the Iliad, many historians debate if it was actually ever used or if it was more of a symbol. It could also have been lost in translation through the tests of-”
“-As interesting as this history lesson is, we don’t have all night,” Cody said, “This paint on my face is already starting to burn and it’s only a matter of time before someone comes looking for you around here.”
Obi-Wan glanced around the otherwise empty hospital wing, “I have been wondering where the healers disappeared to. I’m a bit parched.”
“Good news, there’s going to be loads of food and drinks at the ceremony,” Cody pointed to the headless lion, “Now, get in.”
“Cody, this really isn’t necessary,” He sighed.
“Uh uh, I do not want to hear this tonight,” He sighed, “You’ve been through way too much this year not to be a part of the big bash that’s meant to honor the sacrifice and the struggles you went through. You deserve to be there just as much, if not more, than Skywalker!”
“No, I mean, it’s really not necessary,” He said, sliding his legs over the side of the bed and to the floor, putting him in a sitting position, “I can walk.”
“See, that sounds to me like it could be dangerous for you,” Cody said, thinking back to Satine’s early reports of Kenobi’s condition after her first time visiting him in the hospital wing, “And I did sort of promise you wouldn’t get hurt.”
“And you think carrying me around in a stuffed lion is the safer, more logical solution.”
“I said nothing about logic,” Cody shook his head, “Don’t get it twisted, that’s your thing, but sometimes logic isn’t everything. Sometimes, you’ve got to do something so stupid that it might work. Besides, someone’s going to look at you funny if you’re just walking around Hogwarts like it’s no big deal.”
“I suppose,” He said, pinching his chin, “I would like to be there for Anakin.”
“Then let’s get this show on the road!” Cody patted the side, “I even threw a pillow in there in case you get tossed around a bit.”
“Why would I get tossed around if I’m being delivered by you?” Kenobi asked, “I don’t want any sort of theatrical reveal, by the way. We get in, I sneak out, and make my way to the side to support Anakin.”
“And Satine doesn’t have to know a thing about it!” Cody grinned.
“Well, I’m not keen on lying to her,” He said, “She’ll just know about it… Afterwards.”
“That’s the spirit!”
***
“You ready to be crowned TriWizard king?” Rex asked Anakin as the three of them stood behind a very large red curtain that had been drawn closed in the middle. Behind it could be heard the raucous cheers and chants of the rest of Hogwarts. Everyone was happy to celebrate something, even if Anakin felt that it being his own victory was a bit of a hollow excuse. He certainly didn’t feel like a winner.
“Yeah, I guess,” He shrugged.
“What’s wrong, Anakin?” Padmé asked. She’d been so kind to join him and Rex backstage when they asked Anakin to start getting ready. He’d be expected to make a speech of some kind when he accepted his trophy and though Obi-Wan had helped him write what he was going to say, every time he scanned his notecards, he felt like he meant them less and less.
“I dunno,” He lied and then thought better of it, “None of this feels right. I don’t deserve this.”
“Are you crazy? By the way you outwitted the Eye of Webbish Bog? You totally bloody earned it!” Rex argued.
“And Obi-Wan didn’t?” He pushed and then looked around to Quinlan and Hera, who were off to the sides talking to their own respective friends and supporters. They’d been classy to show up even with the reveal that much of the task had been a big ruse to trap Obi-Wan. “Neither of them were given much of a shot.”
“Mate, you can’t control what happened to them,” Rex assured him with a hand on his shoulder, “It wasn’t like it was designed so you would win, right?”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Anakin said. “I can’t stop thinking about how well that first task went for me.”
“Because you acted on instinct,” Padmé said, “And just like in the final task, you demonstrated how adept you are at making friends and acclimating to your surroundings. If this tournament were forged solely in your favor, I think the second task would have gone differently.”
He grimaced. That much was true and was often the part of him that argued that it wasn’t tilted in his favor completely. That still didn’t make him feel any better in the long run. There had still been intervention, which prevented other champions from having a fair shake.
“Not including the fact that you thwarted Dooku and saved Obi-Wan’s life!” Rex said, “Of which I know he’s grateful and appreciates what you did. Why can’t you?”
“Because I’m not even sure I did anything, Rex!” Anakin argued, “You weren’t there. I was- I was knocked out for so much of what happened and I just lucked into waking up on time. The only reason Obi-Wan hadn’t grabbed the cup before me to save us was because he physically wasn’t allowed to.”
All year long, Anakin had wanted to prove himself to the world, to prove himself capable of standing on his own and becoming the hero they needed. However, now that he was starting to receive that recognition, he realized how undeserved it was always going to feel. The media often only ever saw the best and the worst of a person, especially from skewed perspectives.
He kept racking his brain to that moment in the grave, when he’d woken on top of Obi-Wan. How had he even gotten there? Obi-Wan didn’t say, but in all fairness, could easily plead that he’d been blacking out from the torture Dooku had put him through. Anakin hadn’t really wanted to ask to the fullest extent, because he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
“Anakin,” Padmé started firmly, now placing her hand on his other shoulder and steering his attention to her, “In my experience, there’s no such thing as luck. You did save Obi-Wan and yourself! I get what you’re saying about it not feeling right to claim a TriWizard champion, but please don’t act like any of what happened is your fault.”
Somehow, that had always been the conscious fear that was drifting in the back of his mind. It was odd to hear it coming from someone else, because it did sound so illogical. It harked back to the dream he had about his mum, or whatever that was.
“There’s a lot of people out there,” Rex commented, peeking open the curtain despite how Windu had told them not to, “He can’t just reject the award!”
“He can do whatever he feels is right,” Padmé said and then smiled, “You know, Anakin, this entire year I’ve watched you strive to be a leader. You had your failures as any of us do, but now that you’re here and you’re given this opportunity to be the face that you’ve wanted to be-”
“-I no longer want it, I know,” He muttered, “I see the irony.”
“But maybe that’s what makes the best kind of hero,” She said, “The kind that doesn’t want it for fame, glory or infamy, but because they want to do the right thing and the right thing only.”
He thought about that, “And you think I’m the person for that?”
“I think you’ve been chosen all along,” She said, “But it’s high time you actually choose what kind of person you want to be.”
“She’s got a point,” Rex agreed with a smile, “Champion or not, you’re still my best mate, and whether you want to accept it or not, you were bloody brilliant out there. So, you go out and say whatever you feel needs to be said.”
“I always imagined I’d be calling to find my mother,” He said with a weak smile, sniffing tightly to prevent himself from welling up, “But I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon.”
“Don’t give up hope,” Rex said.
“I’m not, I’m just… I need to be someone she would be proud of,” He said, “And accepting this big trophy and award without acknowledging how everyone else was positioned to lose in some way doesn’t feel like doing that.”
“I never met her really,” Padmé said, “But judging from what I’m seeing and feeling, I think she would be.”
He smiled, “Thanks, that means a lot.”
Triumphant horns flared from beyond the curtain, causing the audience to burst with excitement once again. Chants of various forms had taken and all were indiscernible with so many people yelling at the same time. It was supposed to be positive and uplifting, but there was an obvious disconnect for Anakin, who didn’t see this tournament as anything to be celebrated. He could hear Hondo Ohnaka, who he was fairly certain they’d chosen as an MC to avoid him from causing any other trouble, hyping everyone up.
“Go get ‘em,” Rex said with a firm pat on the shoulder.
“We’ll be here on the sidelines cheering you on either way,” Padmé confirmed.
While that made him feel a little bit better, a rare sense of anxiety came over him about addressing the crowd. His name had been called and it seemed they were avoiding any ambiguity about who they were awarding with the trophy.
The curtains fell apart on their own, revealing Anakin at center stage, feeling incredibly small as the entire wizarding world gawked before him. He tried his best to stand tall, but found this incredibly difficult when everyone’s entire focus was on him. Flashing camera lights made his vision go blurry and he desperately tried to find a friend to focus on.
He was relieved when he didn’t find Minister Valorum in the crowd. Not only did the callous leader make it painfully clear that he was too busy to do anything to assist Anakin in any way, but he was the reason Obi-Wan had nearly died. In his place, another Neimodian by the name of Lott Dod said cross-legged and equally unimpressed by all of this.
He wondered if he, too, was in Dooku’s pocket, just waiting for attack.
If it weren’t for Headmaster Yoda also being on stage, he wouldn’t have known what to do. He approached the little green headmaster, whose eyes were kind and proud, even if a bit wary about all of this too. The other headmasters and officials stood off to the side and watched with respectful, but neutral expressions.
Yeah, they didn’t think he should have won either.
Anakin didn’t take offense to that either, seeing how everything went down. A few months ago, he might have, because he was too blind to see how unfair this all was.
“Anakin Skywalker, become our newest TriWizard Champion, you have,” Yoda said into his wand, which reverberated across the entire field, “Accept this honor, do you?”
“Thank you but…”
Anakin stared at Yoda and then the cup, which was a beacon of light on the podium beside him. He looked out to the audience, who cheered his name now and waved different banners with his face and quidditch number on it. Hell, there was even a giant lion pinata being waved about, just ready to be beat to smithereens for the candy inside. He could certainly see the other Fett boys eying it up.
It was all touching, really, but it felt so flat when Dooku was out there somewhere after coming so close to getting what he wanted. There had to be a better way.
“I- I don’t deserve this,” He said finally, which submitted the entire crowd to silence like he’d performed a silencing spell on them. A few whispered exclamations or gasps were the only sounds to break through, though none were as loud as the silence that had draped over them. Lott Dodd leaned forward with sudden interest, even if Anakin wasn’t seeking to appease him.
“Mean, what do you?” Yoda asked, “Demonstrate courage, integrity, grit, and kindness, you have. And now humility. Win this, you have.”
“But I’m not the only one and it wasn’t a fair contest,” Anakin said, looking out at everyone, “In case it hasn’t already run rampant through the news, it was Dooku who was responsible for altering the tasks! He did it through Nute Gunray and Ziro the Hutt! All in an attempt at dividing everyone!”
He looked all around him then, gaining more momentum the longer he spoke, “And it almost worked! It worked on me at times! I thought that Obi-Wan had betrayed me at one point or didn’t believe in me, because that’s what this tournament wanted to make things more interesting. That couldn’t have been more the opposite!”
A few presumably Ravenclaws let out a whoop before Anakin continued on, “The worst part is, you wanted me to accept this and smile pretty to make it seem like everything was okay and it’s not. Obi-Wan isn’t even here and he deserves to be. All four of us have been through hell and back this year just for the sake of entertainment and I’m sick of it.” He scanned the stage, finding Hera and Quinlan’s smiles, “We’re all champions and we’ve all shown what we can do, even in the face of evil. Dooku wants to divide us, so I say the only way to keep that from happening is sticking together.”
He picked up the trophy and held it out in their direction, “I’m sharing this with all three of you. Even if my name is on the plaque for some reason, it’s all of ours. Because when I signed up for this, I wanted to show everyone what I could do and what I was made of, but now I know that I don’t have anything to prove to anyone, and neither do any of you.”
Hera and Quinlan walked over just as the crowd started to clap even louder. They each laid a hand on the cup, nodded at him in quiet approval. He smiled, surprised that they’d taken it well, since Gryffindor wanted the win so bad, but the rest of the school as well as the other schools too, seemed overjoyed with this union.
“I wish Obi-Wan was here,” Anakin said.
But then, just as that thought had left his mouth, the lion pinata had managed to get lost surfing across the crowd before toppling over onto the crowd. Several first years went diving for the possibility of candy, but were disappointed to find Obi-Wan Kenobi laying in a pile of confetti and paper on the ground.
A few gasps and flutters of cameras immediately turned to Ravenclaw’s champion. It had the potential of becoming a stampede and Anakin really did not want to relive that particular scene from the Lion King right now.
“Let him through!” Anakin leapt off the stage and onto the grass. Several students parted the way for him and he stuck out a hand to help his mentor up. He still looked banged up, but overall even better than he’d seemed earlier that afternoon. He smiled up at him brightly as he stood and slowly walked alongside Anakin to the stage.
“You came!” He breathed in surprise and then looked at his arm, “Are you alright?”
“I am so proud of you,” He said, ignoring his question with a laugh, “You don’t even know the half of it.”
“It’s what you would have done,” Anakin affirmed.
Fireworks burst in all different colors as they all joined on the stage and stood in a line, representing not just Gryffindor or even Hogwarts, but Durmstrang and Beauxbatons as well. Shapes of their numbers lit up the sky and their names as well. Anakin breathed a little easier not having to stand on that stage alone any longer. That was the whole of it though, right? Not having to stand against evil alone, but together.
***
“Does your hand still hurt?” Satine asked.
“No,” He flexed it back and forth, trying to get used to the print that still lay in the center of his palm. He didn’t like looking at it for too long, feeling a bit too changed too fast for his own liking.
“Thank God you’re finally leaving. I was growing really tired of having Madame Nema waving her tongue depressors at me whenever I talked a little loudly,” Cody said as he and Satine helped Obi-Wan gather his belongings to haul them back to Ravenclaw tower for the final month or so of school. It was strange to think that they didn’t have much time left, which meant they really had to hit the books.
“Believe me, I think it’s mutual,” Satine snarked as she cast a glance over to Madame Nema. The green halaisi healer turned an exhausted look their way in return, particularly at Cody. Obi-Wan nodded in a combination of thanks and apology once again. He’d managed to get along with her quite well.
“You know, I don’t think you’d be a bad healer, Cody,” Obi-Wan commented, “If you weren’t so focused on Quidditch, I’d dare say that it could have been a decent backup plan for you.”
“Like I’m nearly interested or skilled enough with potions,” Cody rolled his eyes and slung the duffle bag over his shoulder, “I think Palpatine would lose his infamous cool over that study session.”
“I dunno, he’s tutored Hondo before,” He said, “It can’t be any worse than that.”
“Well, it’s a good thing we never have to find out,” Cody straightened, “Because just you wait, one of these days I’ll be hoisting a World Cup over my shoulders.”
“Just don’t drop it as you did Ben,” Satine, who hadn’t quite gotten over the shenanigans that ensued to get Obi-Wan into the ceremony, folded her arms across her chest, “You practically catapulted him into the crowd and I’d be remiss to say your adoring fans would appreciate that!”
“I tripped!” Cody said defensively and smacked Obi-Wan on the back, “And look at him! Not a scratch on him… That wasn’t there already.”
She rolled her eyes, “You would have been better off just walking him into the crowd with a mask on or something.”
“I wanted to be more discreet,” Cody said. “Plus, you were afraid of him getting hurt.”
“And how is a big orange lion more discreet?” She argued.
“I was doing the Trojan thing!” He said, “It’s a proven strategy!”
“That’s from a myth!”
“It all ended up just fine,” Obi-Wan placated, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and giving her a slight squeeze. Of course, all this did was cast her disapproving glare onto him.
“And you, you went along with it!” She frowned, “If I didn’t have such faith in Madame Nema’s abilities, I’d have my doubts that your head healed properly.”
“Hey now, if it were anything truly foolish, I’d have never went with it,” He said.
“You were in a pinata that was supposed to be filled with candy,” She said, “The first and second years all had sticks to beat it with!”
It was then that Obi-Wan and Cody realized what she was referring to when they’d gotten back that night about how “horribly wrong” it could have gone. Obi-Wan winced at the imaginative horror that several feral children swinging with all their might would cause. He discovered rather unfortunately that he could undergo a lot of blunt force, but likely not much more.
“Okay… Perhaps, you do have a point there,” Obi-Wan admitted.
“And that… Is why we keep you around!” Cody grinned, poking Satine’s nose against his better judgment.
“Honestly, how did I ever get roped in with you chuckleheads?” Satine shook her head, her anger evaporating and settling into acceptance that this was the life she chose to lead. Obi-Wan couldn’t be happier that she did.
“Because we’re cute,” Cody said cheekily.
“Nobody’s that cute,” She said.
“And we keep things interesting,” Obi-Wan added.
“That you do,” She conceded, “But next time this one tries to hide you in a giant animal that doesn’t have any holes for breathing, maybe consider another alternative.”
“Agreed,” Obi-Wan said, much to Cody’s indignation.
“You know, I’m the reason it all worked out!” He said.
“Let’s be on our way. I’ve been craving a meal from the Great Hall while it's fresh,” Obi-Wan moved to Satine’s other side to slip his right hand in her left. She gave him a curious look, but said nothing of it, for just as they were all heading out of the hospital wing, Professor Tahl stopped them on their way.
“Oh, I’m glad I caught you,” She said with a smile. “How are you feeling, Obi-Wan?”
“Much better,” He said, feeling Satine’s gaze on his profile. He knew he’d looked bloody awful when he’d first arrived back from his duel with Dooku and Aveross, so he could understand her concern. Now, the only proof that he’d endured any injury at all was the raised circular burn on his left palm. It no longer caused him any pain now that it had scarred, but it was explained to him that it wouldn’t go away due to being the result of a cursed object.
“That is very good to hear,” She said, “I wanted to apologize for not doing more to aid you.”
“Oh, professor, there’s nothing you could have done.” He assured her, “Even with your vision.”
“I should have told you sooner,” She said, “To make you all more alert to the danger that’s coming your way.”
“We got there on our own,” Satine said mildly, “Between the shark and the dementors…”
“And Kenobi’s shit luck in general.” Cody added, which earned him an elbow to the ribs from Satine, “What? It’s true, isn’t it?”
“As one with a certain predilection to visions of the past and future, I’ve occasionally been foolish enough to believe I could ever change anything that’s happening,” She said, “When all we can do is be prepared.”
“You sound like Qui-Gon now,” Obi-Wan said with a slight smile, “He was never keen on intervening with the future and what it has planned, just to be prepared for whatever comes.”
“It sounds quite passive when you don’t consider all the intricacies of Qui-Gon Jinn,” She smiled warmly, perhaps thinking back on a time when things had been simpler. Definitely a time where Qui-Gon had been alive. “I miss him.”
“We do too,” He answered.
“He would be so proud of you, Obi-Wan,” She said, “For everything. Even for how you resisted evil the way that you did in that graveyard.”
“You… Saw that?” He asked, shifting a bit uncomfortably at how candid this conversation was becoming. They weren’t exactly alone and they were open to the echoes of the chamber that the hospital wing let out to.
“I did,” She said, raising her finger to her mind, which Cody made a slight face at instinctively, “And I know you didn’t tell Anakin everything.”
“I-” His mouth went dry, but she raised a hand.
“That is your story to tell, Obi-Wan,” She said, “But ask yourself whether you’re hiding for his benefit or for yours.”
With that, she moved past them and turned one last time, the golden bright lights of the hospital wing illuminating the outline of her tall and broad form, “You have made me proud to serve as Head of House this year. So much so, that I think I will continue.”
With that, she concluded their conversation and left the three of them standing quite stunned in silence.
She wasn’t wrong. Obi-Wan hadn’t told Anakin of the horrors that Dooku had used him for. He didn’t want the boy to know just yet that he was not only capable of great power beyond his realm of expertise, but of dark magic as well. Though it hadn’t worked how he thought it might, the necklace had protected his soul. He would be sure to do further research on the matter, since he had no doubt that Anakin’s own power had a great deal to do with it. But all was well for the time being.
Furthermore, he didn’t think that guilt was necessary as it wasn’t Anakin’s conscious form using it. It was much easier to simply go along with the concept that he was only knocked out during the duration of the duel.
“You don’t have to talk about it, mate,” Cody was the first to break the silence. He’d told them mostly everything. Satine even knew that Dooku had used Anakin to attack Obi-Wan, but his stomach clenched tightly and he suddenly felt absent of his appetite.
“But you can, if you want,” She said gently, looking at him with soft and concerned eyes.
He gave her hand a squeeze and shook his head, “It’s nothing more than you already know, really. I just want to know where I should go from here.”
“We can start with lunch,” Cody suggested and when Obi-Wan made a face, changed course, “Or, you know, we could just sit outside or something and definitely not read or study.”
Obi-Wan snorted and shook his head, “You guys go to lunch. I think I’ll just move my stuff back into the tower and get started on my afternoon patrol a bit early. After all, you know it’s been a while for me.”
He tried playing it cool, but it was apparent by neither’s inclination to move away that they didn’t buy it for a second. In their defense, he did pick two stubborn best friends to begin with. It was difficult to get anything by them.
“No, I don’t think so,” Cody said after a long moment of consideration. “I think that’s a load of hogwash to me.”
“Seriously, go on ahead, I’ll be okay.” Obi-Wan said, “Carry on with whatever you intended on doing today and I’ll catch up later.”
“Well, I intended on going on patrol together,” Satine deadpanned, “And I also live in the tower, so I’ll be going in that direction too.”
“And I’m helping you drop off your stuff,” Cody pointed out, “No way you could lift all this on your own.”
“So, if you wish to brood, go ahead, we’ll just be alongside you in a very unrelated not-hovering sort of way.” Satine said.
Obi-Wan puffed out a bit of air in defeat, a slow smile finding its way to his mouth, even with the uncertainty that suddenly clammered at him once again, “Is that so?”
“It is,” Cody said, taking the lead, “If you wish to lag behind for optimum dreariness, just let us know. I’m a faster walker anyway.”
“Yes, I can be completely detached as well, if that is what you wish,” Satine smirked, especially when he didn’t release her hand from his.
“You’re both impossible,” He sighed.
“Yeah, well, right back at you,” Cody said. “I’ll be damned if we miss dinner tonight because you’ve got some self-sacrificing scheduled in the way.”
“No, I think it’ll be over by then,” He joked mildly. “Have I ever told you both how lucky I am to have you?”
“It bears repeating sometimes,” Satine winked at him, “But we also know what we’ve got.”
He raised her hand to his lips before letting their hands swing back and forth as they walked, his head a bit clearer with the silent company.
Even if Obi-Wan could not get the image of a formation of dark clouds to the shape of a familiar black helmet out of his head, especially when it had dangled above Anakin just before he thought he might die.
***
Though the sky had been light, rain pounded the shoreline, making it all the more treacherous to cross. Porgs, the blasted things, perched themselves on the highest peaks, squawking and completely unbothered by the eminence of darkness that thrived here.
Water droplets clung for dear life onto the brim of his cloak, which while soaked seemed to stick to every inch of him. He reached into his pocket, drawing out the small prism that was only one of two makes, and slid it carefully into place. After turning it, an opening before him slid to fruition, revealing a dark pit begging to be explored.
Sidious took calm and measured paces down the several flights of winding staircases that led to the heart of the newly forged Sith temple. To say it was new was a slight against their ancestors before them, for aside from its inhabitants, there was nothing new about it. During a brief sabbatical in his youth, he’d dedicated ample time to resurrecting Sith artifacts and temples, ensuring that they would never be cornered and never found.
Disguised within a rocky, Irish hillside and looking like nothing more than two jagged rocks protruding from the ground, there was little for any wandering eyes to catch. Even still, extensive measures had been taken to throw off the scent of any search dogs, making it all but impossible for this realm of unholy sanctity to be discovered by those unworthy.
There was little light, even with candelabras lining the cold stone walls that guided the descent, and certainly no railings or safeguards for falling. Sidious had little use for anyone dying of such useless means. The interior of the temple was as any Sith temple should be: practical yet commemorative. Everything looked sharp and deadly, while the bones of their enemies used as art pieces.
It resembled a dungeon more than a temple, just the way he liked it. It was not meant to feel like home, after all. It wasn’t comfortable. It was meant to draw the darkest parts of your soul.
Nothing of extensive value lived here, not so far out of Sidious’ sight. That would be foolish in the event that any of it could be used to turn against him.
Tyranus was already waiting, hands clasped behind his back as he studied the archaic carvings of Sith predecessors during the great wars of centuries past. Etched into the very stone was not supposed to be just suffering, but a hidden secret to significant power. It was that promised to all vulnerable acolytes: eternal life.
Sidious had never needed to be coerced with promises of grand spectacle. It was as though he was born for evil, not merely to become it.
Beside Tyranus was his new assassin: Aveross. He still wore Valorum’s face whether by habit or by insecurity. He never made eye contact with Sidious, to which he could respect that much. He didn’t deserve to be here, let alone speak with him as though he were part of their circle.
“Master, so good of you to join us,” Tyranus said without turning.
Sidious very nearly whipped out his wand and performed the killing curse right then, a sharp blaze of anger coiling through him at the thought of Tyranus’ attempted insolence. To think that he believed he could usurp the boy and claim him as an apprentice was infuriating, particularly when doing so in such a fashion would have ruined everything they’d worked so hard for. This was the way of the Sith- they betrayed one another. There was no loyalty and there certainly wasn’t comradery.
However, there always needed to be a sense of awareness. For someone usually so smart, Tyranus had been foolish in his haste. To claim the boy through the means of the imperius curse alone would surely have reached Yoda eventually and that was one wizard Tyranus could not beat in the throes of battle.
Sidious wouldn’t have been around to clean up his mess either.
He tempered himself, still deciding whether or not he wanted Tyranus to know he was aware of the attempted betrayal.
“Kenobi still lives,” Sidious said, pacing around the sleek table that stretched in the center of the room. This was a makeshift dining hall of sorts- an addition made by Tyranus, who always did have an eye for luxury and style.
“Indeed he does,” Tyranus said calmly, not indicating that he was afraid for the response that this failure might cause him. “Skywalker saved him.”
“Thwarted by a 13 year old boy.” Sidious chuckled, “That is your claim of defense?”
“Your orders were explicit, my lord,” He said, still maintaining his gaze on the portrait in front of them, “The boy was to be unharmed.”
“I thought that was the purpose of your little puppet here,” Sidious rested a hand on Aveross’ shoulder. “Tyranus spoke quite highly of you, but you have yet to prove yourself worthy to me.”
He didn’t speak, or perhaps it was that he couldn’t. There was a certain glassiness to his eyes that looked haunted, completely absorbed in the horror of Sidious’ presence. He couldn’t blame him. Sidious had chosen to show his true self today, with glowing yellow eyes and lacking the kind elderly persona he wore in daylight.
“Aveross can have Kenobi dead in a matter of moments if that is what you wish,” Tyranus said distractedly, “I did not want to make any such judgment without you.”
“That is a first,” Sidious replied sourly before moving away from Aveross again and pacing around the room, taking in the various artifacts on display. Most were ancient weapons, ranging from those that could deflect and absorb magic to those that would kill if merely touching human flesh. Sidious ran his fingers along one that had always caught his eye- a small dagger. It was unimpressive to the casual observer, but it possessed a poison at its tip that could not be healed nor traced.
Though wiped clean of the blood of his own former master, Sidious could still hear the sound it had made when he’d drove it through the space where his heart should be.
He smiled. There was nothing quite like journeying down memory lane.
It was wise to reflect the past and to learn from it. Would his master dead at his feet from the hands of another truly had the same effect? He didn’t think so. His own conversion to darkness had been at his own hand, with his own agency. He’d chosen, wielded, and drove the knife entirely at his own accord, for his own advancement. It was because it came from him that he was able to submerge himself deep into the depths of his truest self.
And that made all the difference.
“Perhaps, it is best that you failed, Tyranus,” He said finally, turning the blade over in his hands, reminiscing about how perfectly it seemed to fit all those years ago. Some things never changed after all. “In fact, I think you may have been onto something with your little stunt in the graveyard.”
Tyranus was silent, weighing what Sidious’ point was and surely keeping a wary eye on the knife in his hands.
Carefully, he placed it back on display and turned with clasped hands in front of him, walking in front of the two men, surveying their reactions. Tyranus still did not face him completely, though his head was turned to the side in interest.
“You placed Anakin Skywalker under the imperius curse, did you not?”
“I did.” Tyranus said, “Yet he broke it. I’d never seen that done before.”
“He is the chosen one, Tyranus,” Sidious said, “And soon he will be learning things that will only amplify that truth. But what was it that broke through the curse?”
No answer.
“It was his attachment to Kenobi.” Sidious explained after a long beat, “With Qui-Gon Jinn dead and his mother… Displaced… Skywalker only has Kenobi left to lean on. Perhaps, we were too quick to judge how soon that string should be cut. And what hurts worse than death or abandonment in the final hour, Tyranus?”
There was still no answer, but Sidious wasn’t taking that quite so easily. He clutched his wand from where it lay in his pocket, gritted his brittle teeth against one another.
“Come now, old friend,” He urged, “Surely, you know the answer to this question better than anyone.”
He turned to him stiffly, squaring his shoulders back, “Betrayal.”
“Avada Kedavra!” Sidious drew his wand and reveled in the short-lived panic that crossed his apprentice’s face. Killing curses were quick and clean, after all, demonstrating a carelessness for how their victim met their end. It was so impersonal. He’d made to draw his own wand, but wasn’t quick enough, was never quick enough.
The body hit the floor with a heavy thud and Sidious watched as the light instantly drained out of Valorum’s pale face.
He frowned, glancing slowly up at Tyranus, who had since slid back a mask of ease and indifference. His eyes were dark and untelling, the shadows of the cave casting sharp edges on his facial features.
“Where is the real Aveross?” He asked.
“As I said, my lord,” Tyranus didn’t smile, he was too wise for anything quite so brazen, “He can have Kenobi dead in a matter of minutes if you wish.”
Sidious thought that over for a moment before nodding in acceptance, “A Ravenclaw to the last, my apprentice.”
“Hogwarts is in need of a new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.” Tyranus said, “Besides, if he fails, you will have him close enough where you can deal with him properly.”
“And I will,” Sidious hissed, “For now understand that it can truly just be you and I on this path of domination, and while I had every opportunity to strike you down, I pledge to never raise my blade or wand against you if you vow not to betray me.”
He stuck out his hand. An unbreakable vow.
One that was easy to make, for Sidious now knew with absolute clarity that it would not be he who raises his blade to Tyranus. He would have no need to do such a thing.
***
It had been nice, having Ben back in the common room. After everything that had happened Satine wasn’t taking anything for granted. They had spent the last evening studying late into the night on their favorite sofa in front of a dying fire. Perhaps if they’d exchanged a kiss or two alone with only the stars twinkling in the sky watching, well that was their secret. He was still recovering, much as he refused to admit it. He’d found himself nodding off, head dropping onto her shoulder practically in the middle of a debate over a multiple choice question. It was so easy to send him to bed, knowing that in the morning they’d be patrolling again. Of course in her dopey haze she hadn’t thought about actually having to wake up early the next morning.
So when she did force herself up, hair tangled and stuck to her face she went through the hazy motions only because she knew he’d be waiting for her. She nearly forgot her robe and tie, managing to grab them at the last minute while heading out her dormitory door and down into the common room. What she hadn’t been expecting was practically the entire Ravenclaw house Quidditch team, and even a few others talking excitedly amongst each other. Even Obi-Wan, who of course was fully dressed and looked quite handsome even for the early hour, found himself sat between Aayla and Eeth. The former stood when she caught her eye and cackled.
“Don’t worry Satine ,” She grinned wickedly, “I kept your spot nice and warm for you!”
Satine rolled her eyes, but still moved to take the now vacant seat next to Ben. Eeth eyed her warily. She couldn’t blame him though considering she’d once charmed his toothpaste to dye his teeth purple back in second year. It was right after he’d made fun of her hair in a late night astronomy lecture. He hadn’t messed with her before the hour of 8am since.
Ben, who was also no stranger to her early in the morning, didn’t seem worried at all. Instead simply giving her a warm smile and a gentle pat to her hand. She did feel a bit odd about it however when instead of resting his left hand on top of hers he politely set it back in his lap. His right held-
“What’s that?” She leaned over him, curious enough to ask. He turned the bit of parchment towards her.
“Seems I caught the attention of the Wigtown Wanderers,” He had . The letter in his hands was rather formally written and requested, if he so chose, to meet with them on a specific day to try out for their Quidditch team.
“Are you going to?” She asked and he just laughed and shook his head.
“Who do you think I am Satine?” He rolled his eyes, “I thought you knew me better than that.”
“Ah shut up,” she shoved his shoulder, but gently, even with wounds practically all healed she didn’t want to aggravate anything yet, “I mean I dunno maybe you’d just want to try.”
“Well I’m going to mine,” Satine twisted to where Aayla had sat beside her on the arm of the couch, “Hollyhead Harpies and Falmouth Falcons, plus whatever else I get in the upcoming week.”
“So all of you then?” Satine looked around and noted that most seventh years here held a letter in their hands if not two or three. Quidditch scouting did happen around this time she supposed, but she hadn’t expected it. Maybe just because she’d lost a fair few days to watching over Ben in the hospital wing.
“Well you know how it is,” Eeth himself held one letter between his fingers, and seemed deeply contemplative over it, “Some teams are a bit more eager than others.”
“There’s usually a few rounds of course,” Aayla pointed out, “So you never really know until they officially hand you the jersey.”
“Seems a bit stressful,” Satine admitted, at least with tests you always got your results quickly.
“Well, today's only the first wave of things,” Turon Adala shrugged, “It’s been a year in the making considering we can only play over the summer,” The few seventh years behind him nodded, they all looked rather pleased with themselves. For not getting a chance to play for their house they seemed more than happy to have received a possible invitation to play professionally, “We’ve still got a few more waves of tryouts before the big one after all.”
“I wasn’t sure we’d get looked at, at all considering we didn’t have any scheduled games,” Aayla’s eyes kept skimming her letters over and over again, “We really owe it to Fett for putting the whole tournament together… well two whole tournaments.”
Satine blinked and sat up more stiffly as if finally she’d truly awoken, “Oh stars, Cody .”
Ben was matching her owl eyed look when she turned to meet his eyes. Both of them scrambling up and Satine grabbing Ben’s elbow before he ended up knocking himself over the little table in front of them.
“Sorry you lot, we must be off,” Ben gave them a little good natured wave, “Congratulations again!”
“Yes congratulations!” Satine looked right at Aayla, “Let’s meet up later yeah?”
“Yeah!” Aayla waved her off with a grin.
The two Head students bounded down the stairs and made a very efficient beeline toward Gryffindor common room. Satine was wide awake now.
“What do you think he got?” She looked over at Ben who was walking beside her with an absolute no nonsense pace.
“He’s got to have gotten at least three,” Obi-Wan mused, “Maybe the Harpies as well?”
“The Harpies?” She shook her head, “I’d bet the Cannons would be more interested.”
“They have a losing streak, no matter how Fives feels about them,” Obi-Wan reminded her.
“Cody could solve that for them though,” She pointed out.
“What about the Falcons? The Ballycastle Bats?” He considered.
“Oh I do hope he doesn’t have to go too far away,” Satine frowned, time was already ticking away from them getting to spend their days together. She really didn’t want to go years without running into him.
They practically ran through the fat lady portrait in their haste, Satine climbing deftly through the portrait hole and Obi-Wan scrambling after her. The Gryffindor Quidditch team and other Quidditch hopefuls were sitting around much like the Ravenclaws had been and despite the intrusion they didn’t seem very surprised.
“Is Cody here?” It was Ben who asked a slight wheeze in his voice from the odd angles they’d been crawling, she gave him a once over before turning to look around again.
“Er, no,” It was one of the twins who said it, they were looking at each other, a perfect mirror.
“I guess you wouldn’t know,” The other one looked back at them with a wince, “Cody didn’t receive anything.”
“He said he’d go ahead and get a head start on his work out-”
“That’s absolutely preposterous!” Satine shouted, and although she really should be keeping her voice down for any possible sleeping students.
“Satine-” Ben seemed to be on that same thread of thought.
“No! I will not stand for this!” She turned, grabbing Ben by the tie to turn him around as well, “Come on! We’ve got a friend to find and a patrol to hurry through.”
“Quite right,” Ben agreed far too easily even if his face was a bit red and there were a couple immature whistles thrown their way.
“What? What is it?” She asked as they emerged from the tunnel and he was still gazing at her.
“Oh nothing, let’s get a move on shall we?” He looked around, “Where would he have gone off too?”
“The pitch,” Satine answered, but Ben shook his head.
“No I…” He frowned, “I think he’d go somewhere we wouldn’t think to look for him.”
“It’s time to get creative then.”
***
Disappointment was an understatement. Cody rested his chin on his arms as he looked out over Hogwarts. It was a beautiful morning which contrasted quite badly with his mood. Owls soared overhead, coming and going from their home and bringing nothing to him. His hands tightened into a fist. It was cowardly to run up here. Not staying back with his fellow teammates, not congratulating the ones that had one or two or even three separate letters. He was supposed to be a brave Gryffindor, but he’d never felt so much like he needed to hide away before. All his life he’d worked up to this one thing . He always knew that was the future for him and he chased it with everything he had. So why had it failed?
It wasn’t of course an automatic failure, he could still receive something, for the last six years he’d noted that the Kenmare Kestrels had always been a bit late to the party. Maybe they’d want him?
A bit pathetic, standing up here considering who might actually want him around.
He’d never been like his brothers though, having a favorite team. He’d loved them all and he’d be happy with any of them. Fives could rattle off all the Chudley Cannons players and their best moves. Fives wore that orange jersey so often that Ninety-Nine had to repair it after nearly every wash these days. Cody on the other hand memorized every game that had ever been played on record. He knew which teams were more statistically likely to win, even if he refused to bet on them (he’d be a rich man by now if he had). Cody knew the opening line up of every team in the nation and most of the international teams. He knew all the positions that would be up for grabs for a rookie next season.
Maybe everyone had been right afterall. Maybe he shouldn’t have devoted so much time to this. He was a little jealous of Kryze and Kenobi’s ability to find interest in everything . If he had been more like them from the beginning maybe he’d have some back up ideas. He supposed he could always sell turkey legs in the stands or something.
Cody buried his head into his arms letting out a frustrated noise and trying to remind himself that all hope wasn’t lost yet.
It was just that he knew, he knew , that if he didn’t receive anything in the first wave, he wouldn’t be among the top picks.
“You sure do know how to pick a pretty place to sulk, Fett.” Quinlan. He knew him by voice alone. Cody didn’t bother looking at the newcomer, but still raised his head to look at the castle peaks and the glittering lake. Quinlan didn’t move to make any other comment, or really any move at all.
“What do you want Vos?” Cody said after it was clear the other boy wasn’t going to leave him alone, “Here to gloat?”
“Oh come on!” Vos likely had rolled his eyes, voice exasperated, “Do you really think I’m that cruel and petty?”
“No.” Quinlan was silent, was he not expecting that answer to come so quickly? “But why else would you be here? Going to give me some tips?” Cody turned his face away from where Quinlan was starting to appear from the corner of his eye, “I’m really not in the mood.”
“No I-” Quinlan clearly hadn’t been expecting pushback to his presence, but what else was Cody to do. His life was catching fire very slowly right in front of him and he was helpless to put it out.
“You know, I was worried about this,” Cody said aloud, more to himself than the Durmstrang champion, “They told us we weren’t to have Quidditch at all this year and I thought, ‘oh shit! What if they pass us up?’ I’m glad they didn’t ,” Because he’d gotten up early enough to see all the owls soaring through the sky, “But it would have hurt a bit less if I could blame it on someone else.”
“That’s a little cowardly,” Quinlan was trying to make light, but Cody just straightened abruptly.
“Oh yeah? And so what!” He spun on Quinlan, the Durmstrang to his credit didn’t budge, “I spent my whole year fearing for my best mate's life! I lose out on the one thing I love most! I don’t want to let down my friends, my family, my team!”
“And yourself?” Quinlan prompted.
Cody rolled his eyes, “Yeah obviously mate,” He snarked, “My whole life I’ve known who I was, and if this doesn’t work out I-”
“You what?” Quinlan prompted, all previous teasing gone from his face. He looked just as serious as Cody felt in that moment.
“I won’t know who I am anymore,” He admitted sourly, “I was the annoying Quidditch kid the moment I figured out how to use words, who am I going to be now? The washed up former captain who everyone knows peaked in school?”
“Do you believe that for a second?” Quinlan crossed his arms.
“Yes! No- I don’t know!” Cody was seconds from pulling his hair out so he turned and walked back towards the railing. Looking out again at the sky, “I know I’m overreacting okay. I don’t need you to spell it out for me.”
“Then why worry so much,” Quinlan for his part didn’t try and box Cody in, didn’t trap him with his movements, “You know you’re more than just some washed up captain. Your friends certainly do, Kenobi speaks highly of you-”
“He speaks highly of everyone,” Cody shook his head.
“Kryze did too,” Quinlan continued, “And you showed me, on the field.”
“And here we are, full circle, back to Quidditch,” Cody interrupted, “Do you not see the irony there?”
“Do you not see that you did something I’ve never seen before and I’m trying to find a way to compliment you on it,” Quinlan growled irritated.
“I’m not really in the mood, sorry mate,” Cody considered turning, pushing right past Quinlan and heading back into the castle… except, if he left here he’d probably run into his friends and well-
“When you challenged me to a match I admit I was a bit of an arse,” Quinlan said, “I was in a bad mood and you were offering me a quality distraction. I told you to combine a Hogwarts team and I knew you would accept.”
“So I’m gullible all around huh?” Cody turned, mirroring Quinlan by crossing his arms, but he said nothing to stop him from continuing.
“I did it so you’d fail and I’d get to pound you all into the dirt,” He admitted, “I’d get a good way to release some stress and you’d get the match you asked for. I didn’t expect it to grow into a tournament, I didn’t expect you to show up with a well chosen team.”
“Just sounds like you underestimated us,” Cody shrugged, “What’s new there? Anakin was underestimated the entire tournament.”
“Your team wasn’t the strongest, our first match. I thought I’d won, gotten what I asked for,” Quinlan was looking at him with the kind of interest that Cody wasn’t sure he really wanted at the moment, “And then you defeated Hera and I was a little surprised. And then you beat me .”
“Twice,” Cody pointed out.
“That first real match I thought you’d given up. Switching positions in Quidditch isn’t easy you know-”
“It can be if you practice enough,” Cody shrugged.
“And then you were moving around your team and changing strategies constantly. It’s like you had a well of ideas and it was impressive ,” Quinlan emphasized, “And even when the last game was ending you tried that crazy move-”
“Eh it didn’t really work out-”
“You won!”
“It was a team effort,” Cody reminded him, “I didn’t catch the snitch.”
“But you sure kept our eyes off of it.”
They both considered each other for a quiet moment.
“What I’m trying to say is,” Quinlan reached into his pocket, “You impressed me Cody Fett, I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t know what team would be crazy enough to take you, but I do know I will be with you on the field again, one way or another,” He pulled a long slim envelope with shining gold inscription on the front inside his cloak, “I sent a letter to the board because I knew you deserved this, but turns out, they were already going to give it to you. They let me have the honor of delivering it.”
Cody heard him, he did, but his eyes were fixed on that envelope. He’d read, of course, that there was something almost unheard of in the Quidditch world. It came in a long thin envelope with golden lettering. It certainly couldn’t be what he was being offered right now. He took it with a hand that had started shaking just slightly and he stared down at the front of it now that it was in his hands.
To: Quidditch Captain; Cody Fett
Gryffindor Tower; Third Window to the Left; Fifth Bed
He turned it over. It was sealed with a white seal, the World Quidditch Organization’s symbol was gilded in gold. It felt almost wrong to break the seal of something so special, but he did it anyway. The letter unfolded in his hands and he could do nothing but stare at it with wide eyes.
Cody Fett,
It is our privilege and honor to offer you an expedited pass to the final Quidditch tryouts of the upcoming season. Witnessing your skills as both a Hogwarts’ Chaser as well as Gryffindor team’s Captain surprised all of our teams. As the youngest Quidditch team captain in all recorded Hogwarts history many eyes were on you from the start. It was through your proven leadership to bring your house through many seasons and to eventual victory that have shown you are worthy of such an honor. Your Headmaster spoke of your continued positivity and your Head of House spoke of your dedication. We hope we will see you in the fall.
It was legit, it had to be, everything was exactly as it had been described in Quidditch Through the Ages even if he wasn’t sure when the last one had been sent out. He couldn’t even view it as an elaborate prank because Quinlan had given such a strong case before handing it over. So it was real and it was in his hands . This was more than he’d ever expected. Rarer than rare. Completely and utterly unexpected.
“Fett?” Quinlan sounded a bit far away, “Cody?” There was a pause and then a very quiet, “Shit I think I broke him.”
“He’s not possible to break,” Another more familiar voice chimed in, Obi-Wan .
“What do we have here-” Satine had marched her way past Quinlan and pushed her head over the parchment to read it before she gasped, “ Ben! ”
“What? What?!” Obi-Wan hurried over next to Satine and gave it a once over, “Oh mate! That’s incredible!”
“I can’t believe it!” Satine had turned to Obi-Wan then back to Cody who really still only had eyes for that letter. Her hair brushing against his arm as she whipped around “Can you believe it? I mean I can because you absolutely deserve this, but aren’t they supposed to be pretty rare?”
“Pretty rare?” Obi-Wan shook his head, “Try practically unheard of, not from this old school anyways.”
“Cody? Isn’t this brilliant? Cody?” Satine shook him a little bit. He turned away from them, carefully folding up the letter and trying to ignore the heat behind his eyes and the way his heart had found itself in his throat.
“Maybe Quinlan did break him,” Kenobi placed his hand on Cody’s shoulders, “You alright mate?”
“Yeah?” He finally managed to say.
“Oh Cody,” Satine moved to his other side, patting him on the arm, “I knew something was off when they said you didn’t get anything. There was absolutely no way they would have ignored your hard work.”
“And if they had they would have received at least two strongly worded letters,” Obi-Wan said rather matter of factly. That got Cody to laugh, and when he started he didn’t stop, relief blossoming over him as he fully realized what any of this meant at all.
“Oi he’s lost it, Ben,” Satine laughed with him and Obi-Wan was grinning on the other side.
Cody wrapped his arms around both of them, and maybe it was a little more like a chokehold than a hug, but their complaints were purely jest, “I really thought I’d failed there for a moment. I was going to have to become a muggle businessman or something.”
“What?” Obi-Wan shot Satine a confused look.
“I love you guys,” Cody pulled them into a real hug, “I can’t believe I’ve really done it.”
“Yeah he’s gone off the rails for sure,” Satine snickered.
Cody let them go and then turned, about to offer his thanks to Quinlan, but the Durmstrang boy had disappeared sometime during the having of emotions . Cody simply tucked the letter very carefully into the inside pocket of his robe.
It was suddenly easy to talk again, so talk he did, all the way down to breakfast. Quidditch of course, because it was and always would be his favorite topic in the world. He discussed all the teams and which ones he thought might choose him in the end, because one of them would. They always did if you made it to the last tryout and he was going straight there . He was in such a glowy mood that his brothers, including Ninety-Nine shot him all sorts of concerned glances when they caught him just outside of the Great Hall.
“Er, Cody,” Rex, it seemed, had drawn the short straw in breaching the topic, “Are you alright? I mean I heard you um didn’t get any mail this morning…”
“I’m more than alright!” Cody’s grin seemed to concern the twins further, both of them had reached towards their wands, but they all eyed the letter with curiosity when he pulled it out from his robe, stealthily.
“My little brother’s going to be a Quidditch star!” Ninety-Nine was the first to realize as recognition slowly started lighting up in Cody’s younger brothers’ eyes.
“Oh no way! NO WAY!” Echo, typically the quieter twin made to snatch the thing, but Cody held it out of reach.
“Hey now!” Cody frowned, “Please be gentle with this.”
Rex took it then, before Fives could try snatching it instead. Cody watched and waited as his brothers read through the letter. Ninety-Nine wiped away a tear from the corner of his eye which had Cody blinking away moisture from his own eyes once more.
“Oh I always knew you were bloody brilliant,” Rex handed him back the letter with delicate hands, “You have to send a letter home. Hevy’s going to be absolutely beside himself.”
“I will ,” Cody promised, “ later! ”
“Yes right now our Quidditch star needs to eat something before class,” Obi-Wan pointed out, tapping his watch.
“Why even bother going to class anymore!” Fives piped up eagerly, “You don’t really need to anymore-”
“Oh yes he does!” Satine poked finger at Fives in warning, “I will not let my best friend drop out right before graduation.”
“Education is still important, even on the field,” Obi-Wan added helpfully.
“As much as I’d love to dip now,” Cody grinned at the objections shooting from both his friends, “I’ve been forced to spend far too much time studying to let it all go to waste.”
“Good!” Satine crossed her arms.
“Great!” Obi-Wan grinned.
Still he took his time eating breakfast even with Obi-Wan constantly warning him of their dwindling time before classes. A few students from Gryffindor table were starting to glance over at him. If there was one thing his brothers’ were good at, it was spreading news. He didn’t mind though, even if he really wasn’t one to brag. He was sure the news would be out across the school by the evening, but for now and even then he was content to sit around with his two best friends and a couple of his brothers. Good news went best with good company after all.
***
Getting back in the swing of regular classes returning was something of a struggle, even for someone as studious as Satine. The professors had gone easy on them for the most part in the past week or so, with all things considered. Many, but not all, edited their finals to exclude certain materials, taking pity on the student body as a whole. She didn’t demand pity, just more time. While she was vehemently against the prospect of any of them submitting for time turners, she could see their merit as the month started to wind down.
As she and Ben made their rounds to close out the day, hands bumping into each other with every step until finally intertwining, she could see this vertigo reflected in just about everyone. Even the ghosts didn’t seem to know what to do with themselves.
“Do you want to go over Magical Creatures and History of Magic when we get back?” Satine asked. They’d gotten into the habit of understanding each other’s course materials for the classes they didn’t share, “You know a great deal more about the war of Concord Dawn than I do.”
“A truly interesting yet tragic piece of history,” He hummed and she wondered then how he managed to keep so much knowledge in that beautiful head of his, “But I do have a private tutoring session with Professor Mundi. He’s preparing me for the year 6 final.”
“I forgot about that,” She said, “I still think it’s quite ridiculous that you have to take both. Especially with all of the extra hours you’re putting in.”
“As you know, I do not make the rules around here,” He said.
“Somehow, I believe you’d be doing more work if you did,” She commented lightly, not wanting to interrupt a rather passionate row between two passing ghosts. They drifted down the long stretch that took them back to where they’d started. “I have noticed that everyone’s been too busy for mischief these days.”
“That’s just because we haven’t run into Hondo or Sebulba lately,” He said, swinging their hands with each step.
“Very true,” She grimaced, “Let’s just be thankful neither were granted the right of prefect status.”
“There’s already enough chaos to go around,” When they reached their end destination, they pulled to a stop in front of the stone raven that was already squawking the riddle to let them inside, “I’ll probably be back late. Professor Mundi wants me to have hands on experience with gremlins and you know they only come out at night.”
“Well, try to get some rest when you come back,” She said, “You know Windu doesn’t tolerate lateness even from champions.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” He said and just as he leaned in to bestow her with a goodnight kiss, the raven squawked louder, begging to be heard.
“I’m not a nut, but I can be cracked. I’m manmade but not by hand. I am both the lock and the key. What am I?”
“A code,” Satine answered.
“Speaking of codes,” He reached into his cloak, retrieving a folded piece of parchment from one of the interior pockets and handed it over to her, “See if this one provides you with any mental flexing.”
“I’d assume only the best from our great Head Boy,” She teased and tucked the note into her pocket. As the raven fluttered rather impatiently that they were blocking the entryway and keeping it open, she shrugged, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Of course,” He smiled and swiftly, before the batty bird could say anything of it, pecked a kiss on her cheek.
“That one was stolen,” She accused, though she knew her smile was betraying her.
“Borrowed, not stolen,” He teased and she felt her heart flutter in her chest, “I promise to give it back tomorrow.”
“You better,” She winked before turning to disappear up the steps, “I’ll hold you to that!”
“I’d expect nothing less.” He called after her.
Still grinning like an absolute lovesick loon and wondering just when they’d become so disgusting, she tossed her books to the side as she plopped down alongside her other friends on the couch.
“There she is, the lovely Armata herself,” Aayla teased with a shit-eating grin spread across her face, “Back from a romantic stroll with her sir knight.”
“If you call patrol romantic, sure.” Satine shot back, though admittedly without any heat. She really didn’t have the space to be annoyed at the moment.
“Oh please, deny all you might, but it is written all over your rosey cheeks,” Stass even made a show of poking one of her cheeks for emphasis, “It’s a good look on you.”
“Yeah, much better than the look of murder you used to wear,” Aayla said.
“It can come back,” Satine responded archly, even if both girls only laughed at her.
“So, where is Prince Charming?” Stass asked.
“He’s got to study with Mundi,” She said, removing the folded parchment from her pocket and smoothing it out over one of her textbooks. Both girls were infinitely more interested than they should have been, since she and Ben had gotten in the habit of gifting each other notes with riddles and codes on them to solve. It was like a daily crossword puzzle, except personalized.
Most of the time there weren’t even any obvious romantic overtones, just little nods and references that they might understand or find funny. It was why Satine really didn’t care about so openly solving the puzzle before her giggly friends. That, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to get any actual work done until she’d figured it out.
So, after a bit of jotting little details down, she was eventually able to solve the cipher written in neat ink.
“What’s it say?” Aayla asked excitedly.
“Probably some poetic dribble,” Snorted Stass.
“Meet me in the gardens during lunch for a surprise,” Satine read simply, before checking her work again to make sure she’d gotten that right.
“The gardens? That sounds romantic,” Aayla pondered, scratching her chin, “What do you think he’s got up his sleeve?”
“Well, they’ve been together for what? Five months now. That’s a pretty big deal.” Stass said as she counted on her fingers, “Maybe he couldn’t wait until the halfway mark of the year. That’s usually what couples celebrate.”
“It’s been five months already?” Satine wasn’t the type to measure every single waking second with different markers. She also just had no concept of time at this point. It felt like just yesterday they’d come back for their last semester of school. It should have been alarming to think that they’d slipped into such a normal routine together, even when everything else was everything but normal.
“You better scrape something together for him, you can’t just show up empty handed.” Aayla said.
“How do we even know he’s talking about a gift?” Satine asked, “A surprise doesn’t necessarily mean a gift.”
“Well, what else could it be?” Stass asked, turning the page over and gasping as she read what was on the back of the cipher. “Oh my God!”
Satine frowned, grabbing the page back and scrutinizing its contents. It was an advertisement and more specifically, an apartment listing for a one-bedroom above Cobb & Webb’s located in Knockturn Alley. The picture on the ad didn’t leave much to the imagination, and perhaps it should have, since the place looked like a dreary little dump. She swore she saw a rat scamper around in the corner of the moving image.
“Why would Ben have this?” Satine asked.
“I think it’s kind of obvious why he has it,” Aayla said, eyes so wide Satine was sure they might roll out of her skull.
“Please enlighten me,” She said, “Because I was under the strong impression that he was staying with the Fetts after graduation.”
“Really? He said that.”
“Cody said that,” She shrugged, “Why would he need to go apartment hunting if he’s got a perfectly good place to live in for the time being? Especially in Knockturn Alley.”
“I can’t believe we need to spell this out for her,” Aayla sighed.
“Spell what out?” Satine didn’t have to be the all-knowing person in the room. She’d spent a fair share of her years learning about the world around her, after all, but she really did not like feeling out of the loop.
“Satine,” Stass placed a hand on her shoulder with the impression of someone who simply knew best, “He’s going to ask you to move in with him after graduation.”
Satine stared at both of them for a long beat, waiting for either notoriously silly girl to start cackling at the punchline of their very elaborate joke. When laughter didn’t come, all Satine could do was chuckle.
“No… No, that’s not possible.” She said, “I mean, that doesn’t make any sense!”
“What other surprise could it be then?” Stass asked, “And why include this apartment flier if he wasn’t trying to send a message?”
“In Knockturn Alley? Why the hell would I want to live there?” She asked. “Ben knows better than that.”
“Options are pretty limited for young wizards,” Stass said, “As far as flats go, anyway.”
“We’re only 18! And like you said, we’ve only been together for five months.” Satine insisted.
“He’s a pureblood,” Aayla reasoned.
“Yeah, and there are several rumors of engagements happening at graduation,” Stass said, “I was shocked the two of you weren’t amongst them until seeing this.”
“Yeah, I mean, at least he’s planning on taking it slightly slower than to be expected,” Aayla said, “I have cousins that were married off and knocked up with their first kid in less time.”
Satine launched to her feet at that and started to pace back and forth, not being able to consume the thought of all of that so soon, even if it wasn’t presently her reality. Not yet, anyway.
“We’re not ready for this!” She said, feeling herself begin to panic, “I’m not ready for this! There are several steps we would be steam-rolling over to leap to moving in together. By normal young adult standards, that is! Which up until now, I’d assumed we weren’t on some predated timeline that required cruising along at the speed of light!”
“Calm down,” Stass stood, “You don’t have to say yes!”
“But it’s the fact that he thinks we’re ready for something like this,” She said.
“Well, have you said or done anything recently that might spark his little traumatized mind into thinking that you are ready for this?” Aayla asked, also joining them in a standing position.
“Like what?” Satine asked, sifting a hand through her hair, “Have I tossed a set of keys at him asking him to start looking for a place? No.”
“I just mean have there been any big movements in your relationship recently?” She clarified and then cleared her throat a bit awkwardly, “Like- er, have you two had se-”
“-No! Of course not!” Satine practically squeaked. If her face wasn’t flushed before, she was certain it matched Gryffindor’s banner now. She was truly beginning to shrivel beneath the microscope now. When did this start to feel like a conversation with her mother?
“Okay, just asking!” Aayla said with raised hands and looked to Stass, “Though clearly, that’s a touchy subject.”
“Where would we even have the time or space to do that?” Satine asked and then shook her head before giving either of them the chance to elaborate, “That would hardly be the proper behavior of the Head Boy and Girl.”
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Stass said, “And don’t act like it’s never crossed your mind.”
“Whether or not it has is irrelevant,” Satine said, “But that is one of the aforementioned steps we would be hopping over if we skipped straight to moving in together.”
“So true, you have to test out the broomstick before you buy it,” Aayla said.
Stass rolled her eyes, “Anyway, have there been any other monumental phases in your relationship that you can think of?”
Satine racked her brain, thinking about the past few weeks and what had gone differently for them, “Well… after the third task, we did say we loved each other.”
“Satine!” Gasped Stass.
“That’s adorable.” Grinned Aayla.
“That could definitely do it.” Stass shook her head, “I mean, think about it. His parents surely have never said that to each other.”
“And mean it, anyway,” Satine said, “Oh God, is that why this is happening?”
“It might be,” Aayla said, “But before you freak out-”
“-A little late for that, thank you,” She snapped.
“Let us scope out the scene and make sure that’s what’s going on,” She said, “This could all be one big misunderstanding.”
“Okay,” She breathed, “Yeah, I mean, it is highly unlikely, right? He’s supposed to move into the Auror dorms in the fall.”
“If he gets in,” Aayla said.
“He’ll get in,” Satine said with the wave of her hand, “He’s fought two Sith lords and another mysterious dark wizard at this point. I’d say he qualifies.”
“True,” Stass nodded, “Though they do have a dormitory for couples, but I’m pretty sure you have to be married for that.”
“Maybe he’s asking for my approval on the place. That sounds like something he might do.” Satine said, very aware that she wasn’t going to be sleeping well tonight, “Yeah, that’s probably what it is.”
***
Cody hadn’t even gotten the opportunity to take a big bite from his breakfast sandwich before Satine practically slammed her bag down on the table beside her, startling him enough to miss his mouth and bite his tongue. He swore it was something straight out of a cartoon. By the way Quinlan Vos laughed from across him, he’d say that it was.
“Kryze, what gives?” He complained.
“You tell me,” She flared and upon looking at her more closely, she looked positively heated and like she hadn’t slept much the night before, “I thought Ben was living with you this summer!”
“I thought so too,” He said, “Why? He’s not planning on living with his rotten parents again, is he?”
She waved a wrinkled flier in his face and he frowned, “Knockturn Alley? Why the hell would he rather live here than with me and my brothers?”
“I don’t know!” She said, exasperated, “I figured he might have given you some indication when you talked to him about living together. Or maybe about if he had plans of asking someone else to move in…?”
“No, none at all,” He said and looked to Quinlan, “He say anything to you?”
“Why would he say anything to me?” Quinlan asked, “I hardly know the guy.”
“I dunno, you were there when I brought it up,” Cody said.
“When was this?” Quinlan asked.
“Oh come on, you remember!” Cody laughed, “It was right after the Quidditch tournament when we were heading back to the locker room. You were trying to say that Durmstrang could pound us into the dust, which of course was later disproved.”
“You got lucky.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it, mate,” Cody said, “That move I pulled in the second half-”
“-Stay on topic.” Satine did not have the patience for Quidditch talk today, which was a decent indicator for how short-fused her mood was.
“Anyway, it was clear as day! We were talking about the spare bedroom.”
Quinlan squinted as he thought back, “Yeah but… You never asked Kenobi to live with you.”
“What?” Satine snapped, voice like ice and Cody rolled his eyes.
“Sure I did, one way or another.”
“No, you didn’t.” Quinlan said, remembering now, “You said, and I quote, ‘You know, Boba moved out, so now we’ve got some extra space’ end quote.”
“And Kenobi nodded along with understanding,” Cody justified, “You weren’t there, Satine! He nodded like he knew what I was asking. He even said ‘nice’ afterwards.”
“Oh my God, you never asked him!” She sat back in her chair.
“I thought it was obvious!” Cody said, “I was implying he take Boba’s old room.”
“Yeah, we get that, but I don’t think Kenobi did,” Quinlan said.
“And how would he?” Satine griped, “Cody, you know Ben, he’s not going to cross any boundaries. It’s not in his way. He doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable! You have to be clear as day when you’re offering him something as he doesn’t want to feel like he’s taking advantage.”
“He wouldn’t be taking advantage!” Cody insisted, “I want him to live with us! It’d be fun!”
“Then say that!” Satine hissed, “Because he’s been going around this entire time thinking he’s going to be homeless.”
“Isn’t he rich?” Quinlan asked.
“I think that’s hardly the point,” Satine frowned, “He needs to feel wanted. If you don’t do it, I will.”
“You think you’re ready for something like that?” Cody’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, “I mean, power to you, but it’s a bit different with you being his girl.”
“Not like that!” She groaned. “Why does everyone- nevermind. I’m just saying, he needs a place to stay and as his friends, we need to be there for him.”
“I agree,” Cody said, “I agreed the first time we had this conversation over winter break.”
“Yes, well, I had stupidly assumed you would communicate like a human being, not through signals and riddles.”
Cody had to grimace at that. It was pretty bad when the Ravenclaw was criticizing him for being unclear.
“When did things get so complicated?” Cody sighed and looked to Quinlan, “If we shared a meaningful nod, you’d take that as us being roommates, right?”
“No, not at all.” Quinlan laughed, “I think the only person making any of this complicated is, you mate.”
“Ridiculous,” Cody scratched the back of his neck, “Well, I guess I ought to go ask him before he moves in with Dooku, himself.”
***
It was rare that Obi-Wan sought out the assistance of Hondo Ohnaka, but such rarities did have their purposes, as there were few others he could think to approach at this point. He’d found Hondo in his little closet, which he distinctly remembered had a deadline for when all of his junk had to be cleared. The Weequay was lounging loosely, likely caught in a nap of some kind, with one of the Kowakian Monkey-Lizards nuzzled in the crevice of his arm.
He knocked on the doorframe, immediately stirring the pirate, who looked at him through bleary goggles.
“Kenobi!” he brightened when he got his wits about him, “Apologies, my friend, Hondo was just taking a bit of a snooze.”
He stood slowly, carefully cradling the Monkey-Lizard before depositing him into a little basket in the corner of the closet.
“Isn’t that-”
“-An old friend of mine, yes yes,” He said, slinging an arm over Obi-Wan’s shoulder before leading him out of his office and into the hallway. “How can Hondo be of service?”
There was, as always, a green overlay this far below the castle and Obi-Wan could still make out the smell of rats down here. For the sake of moving along with what he’d came here to ask, he decided to forget about the fact that Hondo had most definitely stolen that Monkey-Lizard for a moment.
“Hondo, you have some family that’s rented in Diagon Alley, right?” Obi-Wan asked, “I was trying to get ahold of a landlord to attempt to get quotes.”
“Diagon Alley, huh?” Hondo stroked his chin, “Hondo’s family actually owns a complex in Knockturn Alley, my friend! It’s a wonderful little abode with minimal rats and a fantastic view of the slaughterhouse!”
“Yes… I did know that,” He ran a hand through his hair, “I toured them myself not too long ago and I don’t think they’re going to suit what I’m looking for.”
“What is it you’re looking for?” Hondo asked, “Because Hondo does know a guy who knows a guy who is trying to rent out his grandmother’s basement for the summer. He’s running a hefty price, though, since she died there and her ghost is rather particular.”
“Anything that the undead aren’t inhabiting?” He asked, “I wouldn’t need much, just a safe and clean place.”
“Oh, Kenobi, that is going to drive for a hard bargain in Knockturn Alley.”
“I don’t want to live in Knockturn Alley,” Obi-Wan said, “If Satine were ever to visit-”
“- Oh , so that’s what this is all about,” Hondo wiggled his eyebrows up and down, “You want a bachelor pad to spend special close and alone time with your lady friend.”
“Well, mostly I need a roof over my head to guard from the elements, but it is possible that my friends might come over every now and then,” He said, “I don’t care much for myself, but I wouldn’t want to put them in any unnecessary danger.”
“Why not try the flats above the Leaky Cauldron?” Hondo asked.
Though small and simple, Obi-Wan had looked there first. He just wanted something with a fairly easy commute to work at some point.
“They’re full for the summer,” He said, “As for any other complexes, they’re all requiring year-long leases, which I can’t commit to at the moment.”
“You’re rich! Just pay for it!” Hondo slapped him on the back, “Hondo can take it off your hands worst case!”
“I wouldn’t be able to maintain constant upkeep beyond summer,” Obi-Wan said, “And that’s really all I’ll need it for if I get into the Auror academy. Since they provide housing.”
“Do they now?” Hondo perked up, “And all these prospective young hot Aurors live there, hm? Learning intel and gathering secrets as they study to be Aurors?”
“Yes, that is what I said,” Obi-Wan frowned. “Why do you ask like that-”
“-No reason, no reason!” Hondo waved him off before pausing to think, “You know, Kenobi, my Auntie Honda, of whom I am named after, recently started a bed and breakfast near the trash removal site just where Knockturn Alley meets Diagon Alley. Shall I tell her you’re interested?”
He was running out of options. Otherwise, Obi-Wan’s next plan was to scout out the muggle world. He wasn’t sure how much gold a flat in London ran for, but he was pretty sure that wouldn’t be much of a problem. Maintaining secrecy and all that might be difficult, but he’d have to confide in Satine at that point.
“Yes, tell her I’m interested,” He sighed. He supposed he could deal with the scent of raw sewage for one calendar summer. Perhaps, he could spend as little time in his flat as humanly possible too.
He checked his watch. He might as well grab a late breakfast before study hall. Then, he could expand his search for temporary accommodations.
He had barely set foot in the Great Hall when he was practically bombarded by a very feral looking Stass Allie and Aayla Secura. It was odd, despite sharing several classes with Stass and being on the Quidditch team with Aayla, neither usually gave him much thought unless they were with Satine.
“Kenobi, hi!” Aayla said a bright smile on her face that was a bit too good to be true. “What’s up?”
“Er- nothing much?” He asked and looked around, “Where’s Satine? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine,” Stass dismissed, “The real question, is how are you?”
“Me? I’m quite alright,” He said.
“We heard about your little surprise you’ve got planned for her later today,” Aayla elbowed him lightly in the ribs, “Exciting stuff.”
“Oh, yes,” He said with a smile, “I’m happy to hear she solved it.”
“Yeah, uh, so what’s the deal with that?” Stass asked.
“Oh no, you two aren’t getting anything out of me,” He chuckled, “It’s a surprise for a reason, but I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”
Neither quite moved out of his way though and more severity crossed their features.
“We know about your living situation, Kenobi.” Aayla said, “And we’re just trying to look out for you and Satine here when we say it’s not a good idea.”
“Wait, what?” He frowned and then paused, “How do you know about that?”
“It was obvious, Kenobi,” Sighed Stass, “And let’s just say… I don’t think Satine is going to be very pleased.”
“No, I figured she wouldn’t love the idea at first,” He said, “I know she has strong opinions on this sort of thing.”
“Then why go through with it?” Aayla asked, a strange look on her face, “If it makes her unhappy, why go through the heartache?”
“Because I need somewhere to live,” He laughed a bit, “And I’m sure she’ll get over it in the end. If I can put up with a few weird smells then so can she.”
Both girls cringed, “What kind of weird smells?”
“Garbage, obviously,” He said, “I’m not able to exactly get a castle at such short notice, though I do think that would be too much.”
“I just think it’s too much too fast,” Aayla said.
“Maybe, but that’s how life is moving right now,” He said with a shrug, not much to do about how quickly he had to come up with an idea, after all. He did find it strange that Aayla and Stass were the ones approaching him on this subject and not Satine.
“I’ll admit, I’m kind of shocked you’re not giving her a ring first,” Stass admitted.
“Well, I am,” He said, “Though I’m not sure how those topics are related.”
“How aren’t they related?” Aayla asked, her jaw open wide in shock. He realized then that he’d managed to spoil the surprise, “They kind of go hand and hand with each other.”
Obi-Wan really didn’t see how.
“This is huge,” Stass gasped, “Oh, Satine is not going to like this.”
“She’s not?” Obi-Wan felt the bottom drop out. “I thought it was romantic.”
“More like pushy,” Aayla said hastily, “We know you two love each other and all that mushy stuff, but there are other ways of expressing it that aren’t so dire.”
“I don’t see what’s dire about it.” Obi-Wan said, “It’s just a ring.”
“With that attitude, it’s going to be just your broken heart crumbled on the street like a used tissue.” Stass said.
“Trust us, do not go through with it if you like having a girlfriend.” Aayla gripped his shoulders, giving him a little shake, “We wouldn’t steer you wrong.”
“Well, obviously he’s not trying to have a girlfriend anymore,” Stass said. “Seriously, Obi-Wan. Think this through before you do what you’re about to do. I’d hate to see you two go down like this.”
“Ladies, can I borrow my good pal Kenobi here?” Cody asked with a grin as he approached, not nearly as intense as the two seventh year Ravenclaw girls. Obi-Wan was glad for it. He felt like he was losing his mind.
He knew he was still new to this relationship thing, but he really didn’t see what the big deal was.
***
“Thank you for saving me back there, Cody,” Kenobi said as they got out of earshot from Aayla and Stass. He looked flushed and suddenly very worried, which was odd, seeing as he didn’t think there was anything near death happening at the present moment.
“Everything okay?” Cody asked.
“Stass and Aayla think Satine is going to break up with me if I try and give her this promise ring.” He reached into his pocket, holding out a little box.
“A promise ring?”
“It was supposed to be a graduation present,” He explained, “But you know, it’s meant to symbolize dedication, monogamy, love and commitment and I wanted to give it to her sooner rather than later so it didn’t get spoiled for her.”
“Too late,” Cody shook his head, “I dunno, it’s not like you’re proposing. I don’t see what’s the big deal.”
“That’s what I was thinking!” He said, “Perhaps, there’s something to it that I wasn’t thinking of.”
“Maybe. Does Satine know?”
“About the ring? I’m not sure.” He said, “Though she isn’t happy with my apartment hunt, so perhaps I better tread lightly.”
“What the hell is that about?” Cody barked, giving him a slight shove, “Why are you looking in the sewers for a place to sleep?”
“I’m looking everywhere!” Kenobi said defensively, “It’s just that last minute flats are tough to come by and the sort that are month-by-month are not the most savory. I hadn’t told either of you, because I didn’t want you to worry or grow upset. I don’t know how she found out or why she’s infuriated enough to send Stass and Aayla after me.”
“Yeah,” Cody prided himself in seizing his opportunities when they came to him, “That might be because I had told her months ago that I intended on asking you to stay the summer with me and the boys.”
Kenobi raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”
“And I sorta thought you knew that?” He said.
“H-How would I know that?” He asked, “You never asked me.”
“Yeah, but I thought that you kind of got what I was hinting at when I mentioned Boba was moving out.” Cody said. “And then we had that moment of eye contact. I thought you got it!”
“That’s insane.”
He winced, “Yeah it has been brought to my attention that this was not the case and that was very stupid.”
Kenobi scratched the back of his neck, “Look mate, I appreciate the offer, but I really don’t want to impose nor should you feel like you have to have me-”
“-No but that’s the thing,” Cody laughed, “I want to! Imagine how much fun it’ll be? If you’re cool with sharing a bathroom and having absolutely zero personal space, that is.”
“Really? You mean it?” Kenobi asked again, clearly trying to read whether or not Cody was coming from a place of obligation or sincerity. He didn’t understand why it couldn’t be both, since Cody believed that friends should help each other out but also wanted to have a summer full of memories together.
“It’ll make hanging out so much easier,” Cody grinned, “I mean, this is probably the only summer the three of us will get to have an extensive period of time without responsibility. Come fall, I’ll be on some Quidditch team, you’ll be with the Aurors, and Satine with the Ministry.”
They were all going different directions and that hadn’t quite resonated until this moment. He swallowed down the uncertainty of that and pushed forward with what he was trying to say.
“The point is, I want you to stay with me! You can help me workout for Quidditch and I can help you workout for your Auror club!”
“Academy,” He corrected, but a smile spread across his face, “I really appreciate that, Cody. And I swear, you won’t even know that I’m there.”
“Seeing as my brothers are loud enough to drown out a banshee, yeah, that’s probably true,” Cody said and punched him in the shoulder, to which Kenobi returned with a thump of his own. “So, come on? Do you accept the role of roomie? Or are we going to have to tell Satine that you’re planning on living in Borgin and Burkes?”
Kenobi’s eyes widened and he shook his head vehemently, “Absolutely not. It would be an honor to be accepted into your home.”
“Alright, alright, no need to get all mushy,” He said and gave him another playful nudge, “Save that for when you slip her the ring.”
“If I do,” He sighed, “I didn’t expect her friends to react so strongly.”
“They’re girls, I won’t even begin to pretend to understand them,” Cody said.
***
“Satine!” Stass and Aayla had managed to catch her just as she was drying her hair from an afternoon shower. She placed her wand down and turned to them, not pleased by the stricken looks on their faces. That meant that whatever espionage they’d performed hadn’t gone the way they wanted it to.
“What is it?” She asked.
“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Aayla asked.
“Whichever,” She said, “Does the good news outweigh the bad news?”
“Depends on how you look at it.” Stass said, “But Kenobi isn’t just asking you to move in with him.”
“No?” She didn’t let her guard down, knowing that the other shoe was about to drop.
“He’s asking you to marry him,” Aayla said.
Satine had never thought herself a faint of heart kind of girl, but she would be a liar to say she didn’t fall completely off her seat and onto the ground, blacking out for just a moment from the shock of that statement.
When she awoke to both girls fanning her and talking about splashing her with water, she sat up in panic, briefly hoping this had somehow been a weird dream.
“That’s definitely not the reaction Kenobi is going to want to hear,” Aayla muttered, which drew in the reality that this was all true. It wasn’t even the worst thing in the world, but Satine couldn’t bear breaking his heart like that, especially not when he was so earnest and devoted.
And she loves him. She knows this much. She certainly can’t picture being with anyone else.
“What are you going to do?” Stass asked, “He seemed set on asking you.”
“What else can I do?” Satine returned, “Dammit, I thought we were on the same page! We have goals and dreams and ambitions to cover before any of that.”
“But I mean… Do you see yourself marrying him?”
“Can we please go back to the point that I’m 18?” She asked before sighing, “And I mean… Yes, down the line. I’d hope to, anyway. Some day. It’s just a lot of pressure right now.”
“Not that you have much experience to judge from,” Aayla said as she helped her up, “It’s definitely too soon.”
“I know that,” She said, “I just don’t see how he doesn’t know that.”
“You are quite the catch,” Stass admitted, “Maybe, he’s just trying to lock you down.”
“That hardly sounds like a whole reason to propose to someone,” She said, rising to her feet, “I suppose I should go meet him and get this over with.”
“Are you going to say no?”
“I wish there was an answer outside of yes and no,” Satine said, “Is saying ‘maybe later?’ an appropriate reaction?”
“Most definitely not.” They both said in unison.
They parted just before the arched entrance that led down to gated gardens. It was a lovely setting for a proposal if there was to ever be one. The sky was bright and the birds were chirping. Somehow, it was considerably empty, with only Bail and Breha reading quietly at the far end near a bed of roses.
And there Obi-Wan waited, hands in his pockets and pacing a bit anxiously in the sunlight. He was beautiful and endearing and everything she could honestly ever want. His kindness and his selflessness coupled with his bravery and wit were just a number of things she loved him for. In fact, as she watched him unburdened, she began to mentally tally a list of reasons, some of which she’d never cognitively thought of.
She started her trek towards him, her feet moving across soft soil and her gaze sweeping over the beautiful range of flowers that Ninety-Nine had taken such care to plant one by one. The sweet smells and the affection she felt for him started to swell her heart a few different sizes.
He caught her gaze eventually and waved her over, which despite how much she had initially been dreading this conversation, she still hurried like a moth drawn to a flame, without any words on her tongue for once, because they were coming to her even mid-stride.
“Hello,” Thankfully, he beat her to the punch and broke the tranquil silence of the gardens just as the sun caught his eyes and made them look a brilliant blue right then- matching his tie. And the way he looked at her, like she was the only person in the entire world, with such dedication and steadfast love that it overwhelmed her.
Until she realized that the most terrifying part of all of this was that the moment he drops to one knee, regardless of how crazy and illogical and reprimandable it might be, she would say yes before she could have the space to think of it. She’d probably lobby for a lengthy engagement, but she’d still say yes.
It was stupid and they most certainly were not ready, but she would say yes.
That was the answer she had settled on.
“Hi,” She returned, hearing the shakiness in her voice.
“I wanted this to be a happy surprise,” He said with a weak shrug, “But it’s been brought to my attention that it might not be for some reason. Before you say anything though, I’d like to at least plead my case a bit.”
“Okay,” She laughed nervously as he went to reach in his pocket and retrieved a little gray box.
“I wanted to get you something for graduation,” He said, “And also express just how much you mean to me. Which you do. This isn’t meant to symbolize anything beyond my devotion and love for you. That it’s only you and I want it to only be you. It’s not me staking a claim or trying to hold you on reserve or anything.”
“I never thought you were,” She said honestly, because no, Obi-Wan most definitely was not the type of guy with an ego that flimsy and in need of validation. Though clueless on some things, he was quite secure where it counted.
“And I never want you to feel pressured or obligated to be at my side,” He affirmed, “I only wanted to make it known how glad I am to be there right now.”
She smiled, “I’m glad you’re here too.”
He smiled shyly at that, “So, if you don’t want this, that’s okay. I won’t be upset. I do think you should see it first though.”
“It’s not about the jewelry, Ben,” She breathed, “You have to know that much.”
“Of course,” He said and opened the little box, “I just think it suits you is all.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but a myriad of relief and confusion flowed through her. She’d never been proposed to, beyond a pretend marriage in kindergarten. And then, a donut had been substituted for a ring. All she really knew about the subject came from movies and other pieces of pop culture.
But she did know that this did not look like an engagement ring and Obi-Wan wasn’t on bended knee as she might have expected.
That wasn’t to say it was ugly- quite the opposite actually. It was a thin white gold band with a cute little pale lilly at the center. Dotting each petal was a tiny yet sparkly aquamarine stone that resembled what looked like water droplets.
He looked at her earnestly, gaging her reaction with hopeful eyes and suddenly, everything clicked into place.
“It’s a waterlily,” He said lightly, “Which I know is the July birth flower… Well, I hadn’t known that when I picked it, but it was brought to my attention by the very insistent shopkeeper. I just know you quite like lilies. So, I evened it out with your birthstone.”
“It’s beautiful,” She said, still marveling at it and trying not to tear up over the idea of a very ardent and hopeful Ben searching around a jewelry store for her.
“Look, I know we’re nowhere near you know,” He paused, trying to think about what he wanted to say as though he likely hadn’t gone over it a million times already in his head, “Marriage or anything like that. And I’m honestly grateful we’re not, because we get to be young, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it all with you still.”
“You got me a promise ring,” She stated, voice holding a breathy quality. Her heart was beating suddenly quite rapidly again and all of her worries or fears from earlier melted into pure adoration. They had been on the same page after all. Though she likely should have been concerned about her momentary lapse of logic, she couldn’t think of anything else but how much she loved Obi-Wan Kenobi.
Just as he was, in this moment, ring or not. He got her and she got him.
“I did,” He cocked his head to the side, looking adorably bashful, “I know it can be construed as a bit corny or overly traditional, but some traditions are alright, I think. If you don’t like it, that’s okay-”
She couldn’t bear much more of this, lunging towards him and stealing the words from his mouth by kissing him fully, twining her arms around his neck and pulling him impossibly close to her. If he was surprised by this reaction, he acted quickly, tilting his head and sighing as he deepened the kiss. She could feel waves of relief from him and for a moment, her heart hurt thinking about how he believed she would hate this.
When they eventually thought better of it (which was likely not as soon as the top two students in school should) and pulled away, he grinned at her, dimples on full display in a way that was hardly fair for her self control.
“So, I take it you like it?” Like he had to ask.
“I love it,” She said, finally slipping the ring on her right ring finger. It fit perfectly, somehow, which though she didn’t question, he read her mind.
“It fits the first person who wears it,” He said with a slight shrug, “Magic.”
“It has its purposes,” She grinned, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” He stared at her adoringly for another moment before his gaze turned slightly scrutinizing, “Any idea why Stass and Aayla thought you’d hate it?”
Just as Satine opened her mouth to answer, she was promptly cut off by a burst of applause from across the courtyard. Briefly startled that they, themselves had been caught in such a passionate embrace, both stepped away from each other instinctually. Only the crowd wasn’t for them, but for Breha and Bail, who were presently engaged in an even tighter hug. Eventually Bail set her down and they kissed, but on Breha’s finger, glimmering in the sunlight was a shiny diamond ring.
“Oh my, did they just get engaged?” Obi-Wan laughed a bit before raising his fingers to his lips and whistled along with the excited crowd.
“Would you look at that?” Satine said, still in shock by this plot twist. She honestly hadn’t seen that coming.
“I suppose it makes sense. This is a lovely spot for such grand declarations.” Obi-Wan said, “Plus, they’ve been together so long and it’s not uncommon for purebloods to get engaged so soon after- Wait a second.”
Satine’s heart stopped and she looked back to Obi-Wan, who was considering her with even more scrutiny, “You didn’t think-”
“-What? No! Of course not!” She rolled her eyes, swatting him lightly on the chest. “That would be positively ridiculous.”
“It would explain why your friends were so worried.” He said, “And why you looked like you were on the verge of a panic attack.”
“I was not on the verge of a panic attack!” She had already been having one.
“Satine, you know I would never just drop something like that on you so soon, not without talking about it first,” He assured her, “And certainly not while we’re still figuring ourselves out.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” She said, “You’ve no idea how glad, honestly.”
“I like where we are,” He took her hand in his- the one that now adorned the ring he’d given her. She’d be a liar to say her heart didn’t swell just looking at it, “And where we’re going.”
“Me too,” She agreed and then remembered what started all of this, “Speaking of where we’re going. Are you going to be homeless this summer?”
“No,” He laughed, “It’s funny you mention that, because Cody invited me to stay with him this summer.”
“Yes, so funny,” She said, “Much better than the gutters of Knockturn Alley.”
“Not sure how you know about that,” He said, “But I wasn’t trying to live there. You wouldn’t be welcome in that neighborhood and it wouldn’t be safe.”
Her heart fluttered at how he considered her with the decisions he made, especially about serious stuff, so naturally.
“Well, I’m glad,” She said, “I think staying with the Fetts will be good for you.”
“Yeah, just as long as they don’t shave my head. I looked awful with that haircut in fourth year.”
“Cody will have me to contend with if he does that.” She said, “And I’m not sure he wants that.”
***
It was a nice day out even if the mood around school was a little melancholy. Beauxbatons’ flying horses had been hitched up just a few minutes ago and Durmstrang had been doing checks on their ship all morning. All that was left now was saying goodbye in the courtyard. Even though Anakin had been far too busy to make any really good friends out of either of the schools, he had spent a good amount of time with Hera and Quinlan, of course, on their way through the three dangerous tasks. He found the two of them easily, both must have had similar ideas. It was still early, most Hogwarts students were still finishing lunch in the Great Hall although it seemed that Obi-Wan had managed to get the memo as well.
“So this is it huh?” Quinlan looked between the three of them, “Feels kind of odd to not be expecting another fight to the death with you all.”
“I’m hoping to be quite done with near death,” Obi-Wan huffed, arms tucked into the sleeves of his cloak, “Though I must, with the finishing of the tournament I’ve had much more time to consider my schoolwork.”
Anakin doubted that he’d really found himself with more time, his mentor was always stretching himself a bit thin.
“Well we must all start thinking of our future,” Hera seemed wistful when she said it, before her gaze caught Anakin, “Well at least you have a little longer to figure things out.” She corrected herself and Anakin shrugged.
“Well I still have next year to prepare for, and finals, and,” He shuttered, “summer school. To catch up on that idiot Gunray’s failings.”
“Ah don’t you fret Anakin,” Quinlan grinned, “I’m sure you’ve had plenty of preparation this year whether you liked it or not.”
“That’s true,” He nodded, “I doubt I’m going to have to fight another dragon any time soon.”
“I certainly hope not,” Hera hummed, considering quietly for a moment, “We really were in quite a bit of danger this whole time.”
“What’s wrong with a little danger?” Quinlan shrugged, “We knew what we were signing up for… mostly,” He added with a slight side eye towards Obi-Wan.
“Still I don’t think anyone will really understand what it’s like to be in the tournament,” Hera pointed out, “Just the four of us, there hasn’t even been one for so long.”
“Yeah that’s true,” Anakin pointed out, “But we weren’t ever really alone, except on the field I guess.”
“I certainly wouldn’t be standing here still if it wasn’t for my friends,” Obi-Wan smiled, but Anakin just swallowed down gruesome images of his nearly dead friend.
“Yeah I couldn’t have done it alone,” Hera admitted, “I had a really good sparring partner, she prepared me for anything!”
“Me and the boys definitely did a few extra laps around the grounds,” Quinlan looked a little sad, “It really is beautiful here, I’ll miss that the most.”
“Yeah…” Hera agreed, but her eyes were looking across the courtyard to where Caleb Dume had appeared. He hadn’t seemed to have spotted her next.
“Maybe sometime we can come visit your schools!” Anakin suggested, “It would be cool to see the differences.”
“I think our Headmasters may have had enough of each other for now,” Hera joked, but Quinlan winced.
“Didn’t expect mine to be a baby stealer,” He shrugged, “At least he got caught before anything bad happened.”
“Yes I think it’s much better this whole thing didn’t end up in war,” Obi-Wan said.
“Hera!” Caleb Dume had spotted her and was running towards them.
“I’d better see him off then,” Hera said so quietly Anakin almost didn’t catch it, “It was nice to meet you all, really.”
They bade her goodbye as she headed quite sluggishly towards his fellow Gryffindor.
***
“Hera!” Caleb was smiling at her, even with the sadness of a goodbye hanging over them like an ax he was still smiling at her, “I’m glad you didn’t run off without saying goodbye,” Hera found herself at a loss for words. She accepted an offered embrace, but then was scared to let go lest she had to look him in the eye again. Still when she pulled back and he was still smiling. She took a deep breath.
“Of course I’d say goodbye to you,” She stated, plainly. It was true, she’d say goodbye to him, she’d planned to say goodbye to him.
“I’m sure I can visit this summer though,” He continued on taking her silence as a chance to explore future plans, “I bet I can get my mum to take me to Diagon Alley, Globus Mundi does offer great student discounts. Paris is pretty easy to get to, especially from here, might not even have to take a broom-”
“Caleb,” Hera interrupted him finally. She felt her heart aching painfully at his loyalty, but it was time she told him. Told him where they would have to stand, “I like you, a lot.”
“Well I’d hope so or us kissing would be a little awkward-”
“Caleb,” She repeated and he sobered, catching the serious look in her eye, “I’m graduating this year, and I have dreams I’d like to chase-”
He looked crestfallen. She took a step back, she hadn’t even said it yet-
“It’s like your dad said then,” He was searching her face.
“You still need to finish school and then you wanted to be an Auror-”
“I didn’t want to do it alone ,” He admitted softly and her heart dropped, not shattering because she’d been prepared, but it still hurt.
“I’d love to keep in touch,” She put her hands on his shoulders, “Honestly I would, it’s just not feasible to stay together right now.”
“Not feasible or not worth it,” He crossed his arms, uncrossed them, sighed, “No, no you’re right,” He ran a hand through his hair frustrated, “Damn.”
“Caleb?” It felt wrong to hug him, to grab for his hand, not when she was putting the final nail in the coffin. She instead moved to clasp her hands in front of her, “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” Her mouth twitched up into a smile, “I’d do this whole semester with you over and over again. I wouldn’t change anything.”
“Yeah,” He agreed, forlorn but steady, “Me too.”
“Thank you,” She grabbed for his hand even if she really, really shouldn’t have.
“I wish I’d asked you out sooner,” He admitted, “You’re going to do great things, Hera. I’ll be cheering you on from my very average life,” He smiled a bit in jest. She looked down at their hands.
“You’re wonderful Caleb,” She looked up at him, “ Wonderful ,” with that she let his hand fall, slowly, from her grasp. And with it, it was like they were worlds apart.
“Goodbye Hera,” He shoved his hands in his pocket, like he didn’t know what else to do.
“Goodbye Caleb,” She wrapped her arms around herself. They both turned slowly, walking two separate ways. Caleb back into the castle and Hera towards the carriage, towards home.
***
Looking around the courtyard, Quinlan found it hard to believe just how many friends had been made over the course of a year. Maybe it was just who he was, he didn’t always trust the easiest. Or perhaps, thinking of a certain ex-Slytherin, he trusted foolishly. Still even he had to admit, as he chatted amicably with Kenobi and Skywalker, that maybe he hadn’t come out of this whole thing alone either.
It wasn’t just the other champions, but Kryze, who was making her way over with Fett in tow. Kryze was truly lovely. He wouldn’t have asked her to the ball if she hadn’t been charming and beautiful, but as she turned her smile from him to Kenobi it was hard to imagine her with anyone else. Whatever drama had gone on their first semester had practically evaporated, it was like nothing had ever come between them at all.
“Kryze, nice to see you,” He nodded to her and then to her friend behind her, “Fett.”
Then there was Cody Fett. At first he’d seemed like just another wannabe rival, something Quinlan was used to and paid very little mind, but Fett was different. At the Yule Ball they’d faced off on the dance floor. It had been good silly fun and at no point did Fett act like either of them was above it. For someone who was used to being treated as older, wiser, it had been refreshing. Then they’d faced each other on the Quidditch field and Quinlan had found himself a real rival. Cody hadn’t been all talk, he knew how to play .
“It was lovely to meet you Quinlan,” Kryze extended a hand which he shook, careful not to take too long and get his hand shot off by Kenobi’s careful glare, “You’re really one of a kind,” He wasn’t entirely sure if that was all compliment, but he laughed anyway.
“I suppose I could say the same to you,” He hummed, “I’ve never met a girl who was more in love with books than me,” He winked, maybe it was a little bit just to see Kenobi puff up like a spooked cat, “But there’s a first for everything.”
“What would you have on Jane Austen anyways?” She jested.
“That’s alright, Kenobi here’s more poetic than I could ever be,” He slapped Kenobi on the back hard enough to knock the Ravenclaw a step forward.
“Is Jane Austen a poet?” Cody tilted his head towards Satine who answered eagerly.
“Not in the sense you’re thinking of, but her way with words is brilliant,” She probably could have gone on, would have certainly gone on.
“Fett,” Quinlan stretched his hand out towards the Gryffindor, “I’m looking forward to seeing you in September,” And he was. Tryouts would certainly not be dull if he could watch Cody Fett flit around the field.
“Likewise!” Cody took his hand, but instead of shaking it, used it as leverage to pull him into a headlock, “Don’t let your guard down there mate! You’d better spend all summer practicing, because I sure will be!” Quinlan had to squirm out of his grasp. He was definitely strong.
“You’re an odd bunch,” Quinlan shook his head. Even still he was grateful to have met them.
***
Obi-Wan, Satine, and Cody had stayed to watch as Beauxbatons’ carriage rose up and soared above their heads. The pegasus had started a bit low so several students ducked hoping not to end up with a horseshoe to the face.
“It’s a bit like Santa clause,” Anakin commented to Rex.
Obi-Wan’s eyes followed as it swung one final time around one of the towers of the castle before heading off and out of view. Caleb Dume who had been moping around for a while looked possibly even more upset now that it was well and truly gone. Obi-Wan squeezed Satine’s hand and she spared him a curious glance. He was certainly glad that she wasn’t leaving.
Durmstrang’s ship had made it to the center of the large body of water between here and Hogsmeade. They had raised their flag like a final salute, but it took barely any time at all for the ship to swirl down slowly until even the tip of the tallest mast disappeared under the water.
“Magical transportation is very odd,” Satine muttered, “Couldn’t they have just used a portkey?”
“I suppose,” Obi-Wan didn’t feel like debating her on the pros and cons of taking such a vessel with you, “But it would be much less fun.”
She rolled her eyes, “I know you’ve got a better argument than that in there,” She knocked on his head with her fist and he laughed.
“Perhaps, but maybe later.”
They milled around on the lawn with the other students for a few more minutes before they slowly started their walk back inside. The halls felt quite empty where just months ago they’d felt almost too full. It would likely take some getting used too or possibly it would feel that way until the very end.
“I know you better than you know yourself,” He said, “You made me.”
This, Obi-Wan had to admit, did actually shake him. He’d managed a swift cut to the shoulder, though not enough to do any serious damage, slicing part of the shirt and exposing blood. He hardly felt it, the blood pumping in his ears was enough to keep him more than distracted.
“I don’t even know you.” He said.
“Remember the name of Darth Vader.” He said, “It will be the last thing you will think before you die.” —Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden // Magical Forces AU (ao3 link)
“Those of you in Caring for Magical Creatures might recognize this little guy, but this is a Fire Dwelling Salamander.” Anakin said and squirmed a little as the salamander moved again, “I would have brought a dragon, but then I would have needed a bigger hat.” —Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden // Magical Forces AU (ao3 link)
Dancing with Ghosts in Your Garden~ Year 3: May (Part I)
(Ao3 link)
It was a little past dawn in Rex and Anakin’s dormitory. Rex found himself nodding off just trying to pull on his trousers. He’d noticed it was getting harder to wake up in the morning, sleep cycles shifting, something he’d teased Fives and Echo for and would surely be receiving payback once they noticed. Anakin on the other hand was chattering away. He wasn’t that good about mornings either, but it seemed he’d not slept much the night before and when Anakin was awake, he was awake.
“So anyways then I thought maybe I should teach us about pixies,” Even if Rex had been paying attention he wasn’t sure he knew where this was going, “Turns out they’re right mean buggers. I managed to catch one out by the greenhouses and it bit me!” Anakin turned trying to show Rex his ear, which did look rather red. However…
“What’s that?” Rex moved closer eyes trailing past Anakin. The lawn was a crisp green this morning, but he could have sworn he saw something move.
“I just told you! Pixie bite! You don’t think it’s infected do you-”
“Not that,” Rex shook his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Instead he pushed past Anakin and approached the window. And… there! Three Durmstrang boys, they looked quite small from so far away and they were moving towards his brother’s hut…
“That doesn’t look so good,” Anakin frowned, popping up right behind Rex.
“It doesn’t…” Rex’s hand itched for his wand, “But what if I’m overreacting.”
“But what if you’re not?” Anakin sat back down on his bed, reaching all the way over to his side table and grabbing his wand, “I know Ninety-Nine’s cross with you, but I still think it might be worth checking out.”
“They could just be going to the forest,” Rex’s hand had found his wand and he was already moving out the door into the common room, “It’s kind of interesting now that it's all roped off.”
“I thought it was pretty interesting before, with the mysteriousness and all,” Anakin muttered.
“But if that’s not their plan…” Rex must have had a pretty steely expression fixed on his face because Fives and Echo both raised an eyebrow as he moved straight towards the portrait hole. Of course those two got up to follow, each of them pulling a wand when they saw Rex’s own strong hold. It was always funny, for twins their wands looked nothing alike.
They all moved through the portrait hole and down a long corridor, “And where are we going?” Fives prompted, though it looked like he scarcely needed a reason to do anything.
“Just checking on something,” Rex answered, tapping his wand to a painting which swung open to give them quick passage.
“I dunno,” Echo lit his wand and pointed it down so he could watch his step, “Seems pretty serious, so early in the morning.”
Fives tripped.
The four of them all tumbled downwards bursting through the painting that marked the exit and right at the feet of a very surprised Cody Fett.
“Now what in the blazes is going on here?” Cody extended a hand towards Rex. Anakin however was the one who took the offered help, before moving towards the window.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Fives told their older brother cheerily.
“Anakin, please be careful,” Obi-Wan Kenobi, who stood just behind their brother and alongside the Head Girl, was watching Anakin with a carefully concealed expression of worry. It was probably fair because Anakin was leaning halfway out the window.
“Ah Rex?” Anakin turned back to them with wide eyes and Rex hurried over, climbing up next to him. They both nearly tipped backwards if it wasn’t for Cody and Echo tugging them back inside. Still he saw it, the Durmstrang boys crouched near something on fire, it didn’t look like an accident.
“Come on mate-” Cody complained, but Rex didn’t care. Rex didn’t care about anything else. He squirmed and twisted until Cody released him and then the second his feet hit the ground he was running. Confused shouts followed him and soon footsteps, but Rex was only concerned about one of his brothers right now.
He dove through another passageway, this one was practically just a freefall, it had been deemed useless when they’d first found it, but now he let himself fall. Sliding down the sharp incline until he hit the stone wall at the end. He tapped his wand blindly and the stones moved away. He stepped out into the grassy field, eyes immediately seeing the trailing smoke curling towards the sky. He ran again, nearly tripping over the uneven ground. Any breath he still felt he had was knocked out of him as he turned the corner.
The little hut was ablaze and in front of it, even at this distance, he could see Krell. Krell’s shoulders shook like he was laughing and Rex didn’t need to be closer to imagine the ugly way his lips would curl up into a mockery of a smile. Rex gripped his wand impossibly tighter. He’d always been pretty slow to anger, but his rage was palpable as it swirled against the magic that he was just waiting to start hurling. His wand sparked at the excess as the hurricane inside of him hungered for destruction.
He raised his wand a spell on the tip of his tongue-
There was an ear piercing roar as the ground shook. His shock had stopped him in his tracks. The others had caught up to him now, but none of them had raised a wand.
“Is that the Zillo Beast?” Anakin gasped, “I knew it was in there!”
“Nah mate,” Cody said in an awed sort of voice, “That’s a different kind of beast.”
Claws, talons maybe, wrapped themselves onto the roof of the hut. It was amazing the whole thing didn’t crumble as a dragon, large and red, hauled itself up. It looked down, spotting Krell and his goons, who looked rather frozen themselves, before extending its wings slowly. Its head, with very, very sharp teeth littering its mouth, leaned down and roared again, right into Krell’s smarmy face. The three Durmstrangs seemed to get the picture. They turned and fled. The dragon made to move after them, but the hut door opened. Ninety-Nine himself emerged from the hut which had slowly grown to be less on fire. He raised his hands in a calming sort of motion and the Dragon immediately backed down and jumped off the roof. The ground shook again, but this time it didn’t deter Rex from moving forward.
“Oh bloody brilliant,” Fives sounded on the verge of tears, “Never in all my days did I think I’d get to see one of those up close and personal.”
“I’d like to say the same,” Anakin cut in, “But I’ve been there and done that, no thanks!”
“Incredible really,” Obi-Wan was on some sort of educational rant, “Satine, did you see how it made itself bigger as an intimidation technique. Exquisite!” There was a reason Rex didn’t much like sitting with his brother at breakfast, it was a bit too early for learning and where his brother went the Ravenclaw nerds tended to follow.
“You alright, Ninety-Nine?” Cody called over, he had much more courage than Rex did in that moment. Rex could still see the little place ablaze when he blinked and he didn’t much like the sight.
“Oh just fine!” Ninety-Nine greeted them warmly, “I can’t say it’s a great time to invite you all in, I’ll have to make sure the scales held.” That’s when he saw it. Little glittering red and black scales meticulously placed on the roof.
“It’s like the gloves!” Anakin pointed out, “The one’s I used in the first task were dragon skin. And fireproof!”
“Well this here,” Ninety-Nine looked up towards the roof patting the stone wall proudly, “Might be a bit more ethically sourced. Glad you finally got to meet Tracyn. He looks quite the brute, but he’s a big softy. Started bringing me his scales on his own when he found out what I was doing.”
It was then that Ninety-Nine met Rex’s eyes. Despite their spat, his brother was looking at him warmly, because that was who his brother was. He was kind, but not so much that he was weak and Rex felt guilt swell in his chest replacing the hurricane of rage.
“I’ve been a right arse,” Rex admitted looking at his older brother, “It’s one thing to be a protective brother, but it’s quite another to assume that you can’t handle yourself. I should have seen it sooner, but I see it now.” And it wasn’t just the dragon, Rex saw his brother’s confidence, saw his skills. He might not have magic, but he certainly had the most tenacity of all the Fetts. The whole time with Rotta, he’d managed to brew potions, and his tentative care of the magical creatures that pranced around.
“Rex,” Ninety-Nine put a hand on his shoulder, “I appreciate that you want to be there for me, it means you care and I care about you too. But you said it best, I can handle myself. Just as I always handled things at home and how I handle my job. Maybe it’s not the way you’d do it,” Ninety-Nine chuckled when he saw Rex’s wand still clutched firmly in hand, “But it’s the way I do it.”
Rex looked up at the scaled roof, “You said you needed to make sure the scales held,” He recalled glancing at his brother, “Did you want any help with that?”
“You don’t have to make it up to me Rex,” Ninety-Nine answered knowingly, “But if you’d like to, I wouldn’t mind the company.”
“What are you reading?” Satine’s soft breath brushed against his cheek and Obi-Wan started for a moment at how close she’d been able to get without his noticing. He blinked, eyes burning from staring at the page for too long, and looked up at the large golden hands that stretched across an even larger clock. Yes, it was quite late and it was to no surprise that Satine found him while making her rounds.
“Just catching myself up on year 3’s old DADA curriculum,” He said quietly before giving in to a yawn that snuck up on him just as much as Satine had.
“Keen on finding yourself in more detention, I see,” She hummed, though it was all in good nature, as her eyes were already glancing across from them to find a sleeping Anakin. His face was pressed into his arm and his face was squished. Even though he’d heard a few snores in the past hour or so, the boy still spoke of his mother every now and then under his breath.
Obi-Wan had considered waking him many times, but it didn’t sound like a nightmare and Obi-Wan didn’t want to be the person to take Anakin away from seeing his mother again, even in dreams.
“Tomorrow is Anakin’s lesson plan,” He explained as she took the seat next to him, “The one that his moving up to the next year hinges on.”
“Does Gunray even have that authority?” Satine asked.
“He does if he fails him,” He said, “DADA is a required study through fifth year to at the very least pass.”
“Ridiculous,” Satine muttered, “I’m guessing you’ve already filed a formal complaint with Headmaster Yoda?”
“Several,” He grimaced, “But I can understand how this would be out of his hands. It’s not exactly a secret that Gunray is here to serve a political quota. If Yoda goes over the Minister’s head or it appears that way, that could be viewed quite negatively by the eyes of the people.”
“School and politics ought to be kept separate from each other,” Satine said, “I mean, really, we’re just going to sacrifice someone’s education so that a few people don’t look bad?”
“I don’t disagree, but I also don’t believe a picket line will get us out of this one,” He joked lightly, though he wasn’t surprised at the disapproving look she returned with. He sighed, “Headmaster Yoda didn’t leave us completely in the dark. He gave us a few sources that might be helpful.”
“How kind,” Satine snarked, clearly not impressed, though she did pick through the folders and study guides to see if there was anything of value. She reached towards the pile on the right, which Obi-Wan hadn’t touched yet, and he had his suspicions that she knew that.
“How was the rest of your patrol?” He asked, “Since I’m assuming you’ve finished if you’ve found time to set up post here?”
“Uneventful, thankfully,” She relaxed in her chair, “I did catch Hera sneaking out of Gryffindor’s common room though.”
“At this hour?” He mused with a raised brow, “They’re getting gutsy. What did you do?”
“What can I do? She’s from another school. Not to mention the fact that I’ve no concrete proof who she was visiting.”
“But we all know,” He snorted.
“Yes, well, they have very little time left together anyway. That’s the way I see it.” She shrugged.
“Careful there, Head Girl. Or else I’m only left to assume that you’re going soft.” He challenged with a smile. He probably would have done the same thing given the circumstances. Not to mention that they were so close to the final task. Now was indisputably the time to seize precious moments.
“Quinlan is still rather hung up over Ventress.” She responded roguishly, tapping her foot against his. “Not everyone is as lucky as you are to have a girlfriend so regionally accessible.”
“I am, am I?” He smirked, leaning in a bit, “I may need a reminder just how lucky I am.”
That wasn’t true in the slightest and an obvious bid for affection, but he wasn’t above such methods when his head was spinning with reading material. Besides, the mere mention of Ventress often made him want to vomit a bit, so he could use the palette cleanser.
“Is that so?” She followed his lead, leaning in until their lips were a breath apart until she gasped and suddenly leaned back, throwing him off course and leaving him with a mouthful of blonde hair. “Wait a second.”
“That was rude.” He puffed out her hair and looked up to find Satine staring quite intently at one of the documents Yoda had lent him.
“I haven’t the faintest idea of what you’re referring to,” She said distractedly and slid the page towards him without pause, “Look at this.”
“Uhuh,” He rolled his eyes, though couldn’t stay even pretend-angry as he began to read and she rested her chin on his shoulder to read it again. At first, he didn’t really understand what he was meant to be looking at or why this would be helpful. Unlike the material he’d been viewing prior, this didn’t seem to have anything to do with DADA. They appeared to be recruitment evaluation documents from decades before.
“Oh my,” He said, eyes widening as he read and reread the final few lines on the page, flipping it over to read the back and the elaboration. He turned his head to Satine, finding their noses bumped together a bit awkwardly when he did. “This is it.”
“I know,” She laughed a little, whipping out her quill and smoothing out a clean piece of parchment, “Now let’s wake the boy and slap together a real plan.”
His heart skipped as he watched her dive into action, as it did anytime he found himself caught in her orbit for too long. In a gentle voice meant only for her, he took her hand, “Have I ever told you-”
An obnoxious snort cut off his thought, echoing across the rest of the library and eliciting a quiet series of giggles from Satine as both their gazes found the sleeping Anakin yet again. It seemed whatever dream had caused him to talk in his sleep had passed and he’d moved on to sawing wood.
“He might want to get that checked out,” She commented, “A deviated septum is no joke.”
Anakin was feeling a little bit better about the day ahead of him. He hadn’t slept much the night before, but he did have a successful night putting together the final pieces to his lesson plan for DADA. He didn’t see why he needed to rise so early and dress like a total dweeb, but Obi-Wan had insisted that he look the part for “presentation”.
“We already wear ties and dress pants at school,” He groused as Obi-Wan ran a comb through Anakin’s now-gelled hair, “Do you use this goop every morning?”
“Only for special occasions,” Obi-Wan said, placing his hands on Anakin’s shoulders and looking at their shared reflection that the mirror in the boy’s bathroom allowed for them, “You look so grown up.”
It was true. He was starting to sprout up, though not fast enough in his own opinion. Plus, he’d lost some of the roundness that had once characterized his features. His hair seemed to be coming in a bit darker than the sandy blond hair that had always defined him. There were a few pimples that decided to pop up on his forehead, much to his chagrin, and he’d noticed his voice was starting to crack.
He was growing up.
“I am thirteen,” Anakin offered and then added tactfully, “Going on fourteen very soon.”
“Very soon indeed,” Obi-Wan smiled.
“Thanks again for helping me with this,” Anakin felt it worth mentioning, as he was realizing more and more these days that he rarely thanked Obi-Wan enough. He wasn’t sure if that was possible.
“You did most of the work,” He said in disbelief. “It’s your plan, spells, and notes. All I did was a little extra reading and offered some minor consultation.”
“Satine might say otherwise, seeing as none of us really got to sleep last night,” Anakin chuckled.
“Now, now, that’s my cross to bear,” He grinned and Anakin was glad to see Obi-Wan happy, even when discussing the possible wrath of his sleep-deprived girlfriend.
“Well, without her, you might have made the poster look pretty ugly,” Anakin said and then winced when Obi-Wan “accidentally” caught a knot in his hair. “Ow!”
“Apologies, my hand slipped,” He raised an eyebrow at him and smiled. He straightened the bow-tie he’d fastened for Anakin and gave a nod in approval, “I’d say you’re ready, Professor.”
With slicked back hair, a brown suit and a green bow-tie, and a pair of glasses with the lenses popped out, he looked quite intellectual. He wondered if there was true intent to this sudden image change, but Anakin had to admit that he looked like someone with the mental prowess to face off against a professor.
Then, he had to remind himself that Gunray was hardly even that.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Anakin said and readjusted the long maroon robe that was draped over his shoulders. On it were little subtle engravings of magical creatures. This no doubt was one that he could see Obi-Wan wearing. Still, it wasn’t quite his style. “Is all of your old stuff so itchy?”
“You get a bit used to it,” He shrugged, “Now come on, I think it’s high time we teach Professor Gunray a lesson.”
“Literally.”
So, he led him out of the boy’s room and down towards his DADA class and parted ways from there. He’d offered him one last squeeze on the shoulder for confidence and Anakin took a deep breath. It was a shame Obi-Wan was no longer acting as aid for the class, as he would then be able to listen in. Anakin would have felt a lot better knowing that his former mentor was there, but knew that this was something he would have to do on his own. At least this part, anyway. Mentally, he tried to trace back on the spell plan they’d gone over.
It had actually truly been Anakin’s idea for the most part, even if Obi-Wan and Satine had helped refine it to meet more plausibly effective terms.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Rex asked as he approached. “And where were you last night, Skywalker?”
“That’s Professor Skywalker to you,” Anakin cocked an eyebrow over the rim of his glasses. He’d learned over the years that if you feigned confidence enough, it might actually end up coming to you one way or another. Besides, there was no real reason for Rex to have to worry.
“What’ve you got up your sleeve? I thought you said you didn’t have anything for today.” Rex said.
“You know I tend to come alive in the final act,” He waved his note cards at his friend, who narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.
“So, what are you going to teach?”
“Something that may just blow everyone’s tops off.” Anakin said with a grin, because as he thought about it, the more excited he got. He just needed it to actually work, for that matter. If it didn’t, this would be very very bad.
“If you say so,” Rex said, “Though just remember not to talk too much about Spider-Man.”
“I’ve moved on to more mature content, Rex,” Anakin said, “I’m reading Batman these days.”
“Do keep it moving. Am I supposed to learn out here in the hallway, Skywalker?” Gunray replied stuffily and for his part, he looked quite smug too. He suspected that the Nemoidian had a trick up his own billowy sleeves, like not taking his lesson seriously. That would most definitely be a mistake, as the charm Anakin was teaching would not be for the faint hearted.
“Just stretching my legs, Nute .” Anakin said smartly and relished the way a few surrounding students gasped in shock, including Gunray, whose orange eyes widened as he considered Anakin even more frustrated than before. Everyone waited as though a bomb might explode until Anakin swiftly moved past him and placed his (mostly empty) briefcase on the podium at the front.
He’d only been to the front of the classroom a couple of times and none this year. It wasn’t like they were doing much in the ways of demonstrative magic these days. Professor Fisto rarely even had class in his own classroom most of the time and when it was, they were running all over the place. As for Dooku, Anakin had been called up to the front to be an example once or twice, but Anakin always questioned whether that was for his own talent or not.
Either way, standing at the helm of the room was a bit intimidating. Every eye watched him with anticipation and in this case, fear. Even someone’s loose black cat managed to look apprehensive as it hopped onto one of the back desks to try and wave its paw at a cobweb at the corner of the room. Anakin was fixated on it for a moment, considering how he wished to be a cat with zero responsibilities for a moment.
Then again, he didn’t like fish very much.
Nobody wanted Anakin to be held back, except maybe some of the Slytherins that rooted against him in the tournament. Sebulba wasn’t in this class, though, and he didn’t consider anyone present to be an enemy.
Except, as his eyes flickered to his bumbling professor, for one.
Rex nodded at him from his position at the front of the room. He took a deep and reassuring breath. He couldn’t appear nervous, not when there was so much more at stake than his grades. He opened the suitcase and pulled out a large black hat that would sit on his head like a giant brick.
“Good morning, class,” Anakin said in a hurried and intentionally panicky voice. He’d tried his best to practice his Gunray impression and though Obi-Wan had strongly advised against it, he didn’t think the bit would land quite as strongly without it. “Today, we will be performing actual magic as opposed to the stuffy and meaningless dribble I’ve been preaching all year through my wrinkly lips.”
He thought he got the mannerisms correctly too. He should know, as it was the most interesting thing to pay attention to in Gunray’s class all year. He waved his arms around dramatically and shuffled around the front of the class like his cloak was caught between his buttcheeks.
Expectedly, his classmates burst into a fit of giggles and Anakin strove very hard not to break character.
“Is this all you have for me, Skywalker? Pitiful jokes and impressions?” He growled, “Because if that’s the case, I can just give you an F outright if that suits you best. I’d hate for you to waste our time.”
“To waste time would be the best impersonation of you of all,” Anakin responded coolly and leaned with one arm against the podium beside him, confident that his crowd was sufficiently warmed up, “But alas, I do have things to teach today. And I was really racking my brain, trying to figure out what the perfect lesson would be. I figured it would help to start with learning what we were supposed to learn this year. Then, I remembered those stupid dragon gloves.”
While this garnered confused looks from most of the class, Gunray leaned forward, anger foreboding, but didn’t say anything of the matter. He was waiting for Anakin’s move.
“Everyone is always telling me how behind I am and how young I am to be in this tournament,” He let a bit of his anger bleed through, because they deserved to know. Gunray deserved to know just how damaging his teaching method was. And if he didn’t care, that was a whole different issue, “And maybe that’s true. I am young and know less spells and tricks compared to my fellow champions, but what’s most frustrating is I’ve had one hand tied behind my back this entire year! And that’s been as a result of not learning anything new to help me defend myself!”
A few murmurs from the crowd agreed with him and Anakin panned his gaze across each face and smiled, “I don’t know if any of you remember that first task where I befriended that dragon that almost bit my hands off?”
“It was bloody awesome, was what it was,” Rex piped up and Anakin grinned at him as a few more whooped in solidarity.
“Quiet,” Gunray said warningly.
“This is my class today,” Anakin said with narrowed eyes, “Participation is welcome here.”
He was pushing his luck and he knew it, but Anakin figured that if he was about to fail third year, he might as well get a few good digs in first.
“This is your lesson plan,” Gunray corrected, “And I will give you approximately thirty seconds to get to the lesson before I throw you out of this classroom myself.”
“Excellent timing, since that’s where we are,” Anakin said with an added wink that surely drove the lanky Nemoidian all the angrier. He lifted the hat that had been upon his head, revealing a small red little lizard sitting on his head. A few oohs and ah’s flowed through the room as they were all amused at the trick. It was funny, Obi-Wan had been just as mesmerized when Satine had suggested it, and even more than his usual amazement towards the girl.
Magic tricks still hit.
He removed him and held the little guy in his hand, letting him crawl up his sleeve and along his shoulder until it poked out of his neck. He was warm to the touch and fresh from the furnace that he was usually kept in. Though a red tint, one could see all the inner mechanisms of his system through the squishy membrane of his scales. His heart glowed orange, a sign of strength, which would grow dim the longer he was suspended from fire.
“Those of you in Caring for Magical Creatures might recognize this little guy, but this is a Fire Dwelling Salamander.” Anakin said and squirmed a little as the salamander moved again, “I would have brought a dragon, but then I would have needed a bigger hat.”
That was an Obi-Wan joke, one that he only included because it had tickled his mentor so much just thinking about it. Satine had joined Anakin in rolling her eyes, as was her given right. It earned a few forced chuckles from his classmates, though to be fair it was still better than whatever Gunray could have come up with.
“And he thrives in fire, so much so that he can’t survive longer than 6 hours without it.” Anakin explained, “They’re mostly pretty chill, despite their name and habitat, but sometimes, when they’re out of the flames, they…”
And as he saw the lizard begin to shake, he recognized the signs that Obi-Wan had practically drilled into his head and placed him back on the podium, watching it light ablaze in a fit of glory. The wood splintered and burned, making the fire grow larger by the second, but the salamander only happily crawled about the surface.
Its bright ferocity reflected in each of his classmates’ eyes and Anakin watched as they were all captivated by the flames.
“SKYWALKER!” Gunray lunged to his feet, ready to do what, Anakin was unsure.
“Calm down, I know you taught us the importance of stop, drop, and roll in this situation, but this is a part of it!” Anakin said, whipping out his wand, which caused Gunray to immediately halt in his place with hands stretched up, as though he might attack him.
Instead he pointed his wand at the expanding fire, “ Glacius .”
From his wand and from an extension of him, a burst of blue frost snuffed out the fire and subsequently cooled the salamander, all whilst taking the temperature in the room down several degrees. So much so, that every breath taken by all inhabitants now produced like icy mist.
So, he proceeded to show the entire class, one by one, how to extinguish a flame. The fire they were putting out was no larger than the size of a candle, but it was still good practice.
“You want to move your wand in a method that almost feels liquid. The shape itself is a bit funny, kinda looks like a bra if you want to picture it that way.”
He and a few blokes laughed, though most of the girls rolled their eyes.
“To control how cold you want it to get, you’ll need to mentally set that limit,” Anakin explained, “Like I do not recommend imagining Antarctica, or we might lose fingers to frostbite.”
“Aunt who?” Rex asked.
He was fairly certain they’d all learned this before, judging by the amount of people that had turned up to Obi-Wan’s lessons in secret. Windu had also taken to teaching some extra charms and spells this year in a way that Anakin suspected was to serve as some compensation. However, that only made his point stand stronger and allowed him to move quicker to Gunray, who he allowed to be his last student.
With this, he waved his wand and made a gigantic ball of fire to erupt from his desk, effectively destroying yet another piece of school property in the process. Gunray stumbled from his seat, losing his hat in the process and nearly falling over.
“This is ludicrous! Not to mention not even an example of defending against the dark arts.”
“Oh no?” Anakin asked. “What about if one was to come across an enraged Hinkypunk tossing flames from its lantern?”
He’d demonstrated by holding up the poster full of examples that Obi-Wan and Satine had helped him find. In truth, Anakin found it all very interesting to read once it was shown to him. Apparently, this was something he was supposed to learn that year before Gunray’s intervention.
“A little thing like that?” Gunray rolled his eyes, “I’d flick the damn things out of the way.”
“Good luck, because they lure you into a bog and then aim to set you on fire,” Anakin said, though he might have been dramatizing things a bit, he wanted the message to sink in, “A fire extinguisher, despite what your lesson this year taught, wouldn’t help. You’d need something really strong to fight off the fire.”
“I don’t find myself near bogs,” Gunray tucked his arms in his sleeves. “Hardly a true concern.”
“Fine, what if a dark wizard, a Sith for that matter, were to chase you with a fiendfyre.” Now this had been a trick Anakin was really intrigued about when he’d read of it. “A fire that hunts you down with the intent of breaking you down to dust, mutating into different ferocious beasts in the process. You think you could avoid that?”
Gunray looked a bit aghast at that, quite possibly unsure what to say, before turning his head, “The Ministry is handling the Sith situation. That is not something anyone in this classroom will need to be concerned about.”
“What about a dragon?” Anakin barked, “Did anyone in this room have to worry about one of those?”
The class grew so uncharacteristically quiet, particularly for one composed of third year students, and the only outside noise generated from the cat softly meowing at having finally caught the bug it wanted. Gunray held his stare for a long time, long enough where it felt palpable that he would either burst into flames at his own accord or light Anakin on fire. Anakin remained uncowed and deeply unbothered even as his eyes felt like they might glaze over from the effort of not blinking.
“Mr. Skywalker, it is one thing for you to question my teachings, but just know that in doing so, you are questioning those supported and cultivated by our great Ministry of Magic,” Gunray’s voice was stiff yet persevering, “If you don’t agree with me, then you don’t agree with the most powerful wizard in our community.”
“Then so be it,” He said with a laugh, “Valorum hasn’t done anything for me or for anyone. If I could vote, I’d vote to overthrow him.”
“Careful with your words, Skywalker! They border on treason!”
Anakin didn’t care. He thought back to the blank stare Valorum had given him when he’d asked about his mother again, about how they desperately needed to find her. He hadn’t cared, so why should Anakin?
“If you think Valorum is the most powerful wizard in our community, you’re crazy,” Anakin said simply, turning on his heels and resting his hands behind his back as he’d seen Obi-Wan do whenever he was trying to remain reserved in times of frustration. However, he turned back at him, glancing with the side of his eyes, “Because one day, that’s going to be me.”
He made eye contact with Rex, who grinned at him and nodded encouragingly. The rest of the class seemed transfixed as well and Anakin realized he wasn’t just talking from a boisterous place, in hopes of impressing everyone, but with heart. He was earnest in his claims. He would be the most powerful wizard one day, and he would yield that power to find truth, to rule with truth. Anakin didn’t necessarily want to be the Minister of Magic, but he would not serve one as weak as Valorum.
They needed strength in times of strife, not fragility.
“Do you have your wand, Professor?” And if Anakin gave any mockery to the term “professor”, it was fully looked over by the grin that took over Gunray’s face. There were no teeth in his mouth, as with most Nemoidians, but it was said that his gums were hard enough to break any object between their bite.
Something was going on here and Anakin intended on seeing it through.
“Walk me through the steps again,” He said, as though he were the pitiful student, “And I shall try to resist interrupting you twenty times as you do to me.”
So he had run through the motions as many times and with as much care as anyone could. After all, the success of this spell did carry the weight of Anakin’s grade.
“Just think of something cool, if you can,” He reiterated and though he hadn’t meant for it to be a dig at Gunray’s misunderstanding of anything trendy, a few students chuckled as though he did. Really, he would take whatever he could get.
“Are you ready?” Anakin asked after a long series of watching the man just wave his wand around in empty air. None of what he was doing was what Anakin had shown him nor did he seem to take any of the class’s surrounding suggestions as he went.
“Are you rushing me?” Gunray returned.
“Well, that fire is going to spread,” Anakin said. “And we’re almost out of class time.”
As the flames began to trail off the desk and spread across the wooden floor, Anakin only began to slightly panic. When the fumes and the smoke began to incite coughing, he actually panicked, having the basic knowledge of what actually harms people when it comes to fires.
What was he waiting for? Was he not going to do anything?
When he could no longer wait for Gunray, he shoved him aside, casting him onto the floor, and performed the spell himself. Because of the extent at which the fire had grown, Anakin hadn’t been given the option of controlling much of his power. He was far more concerned about extinguishing the flame than anything else.
When the entire room resembled the inside of an igloo afterwaters, complete with ice and heaps of snow everywhere, no one could really be surprised. Most critically, though, was that no one was going to burn to death in a room full of snow.
He took a deep breath, a puff of fog emanating from his lips as he turned his glare to Gunray, who was not pleased to be covered in frost. His arms were clutched at his front, shivering and wet.
“You almost allowed this class to burn!” Anakin said in disbelief.
“Y-You need m-more patience,” He trembled with the cold.
“Patience? We were a few seconds away from getting cooked!” Rex coughed, “If Anakin hadn’t jumped in-”
“-That’s enough out of you, Mr, F-Fett! Or would you r-rather spend m-more time in d-detention?” That shut Rex up for the time being, but the youngest member of the Fett clan looked anything but pleased about it.
“This is ridiculous!” Anakin said, “The entire class could have done better than you!”
“If-f I recall, the assignment w-was about me, n-not the cl-class,” Gunray said, “And I couldn’t do it.”
“Well, why not? You graduated from Hogwarts, you’re supposed to be a professor!”
“You s-see that’s where you’re wrong, Skywalker!” Gunray said with open arms, spread in victory as he considered the rest of the class, “I knew something you did n-not! I would never have learned the spell.”
“And why’s that?” Anakin challenged, “Because you’re a squib?”
The whole class gasped, including Rex and Gunray lowered his stare at him, eyes practically setting a fire all on their own. “I am far more powerful than you will ever be.”
“But that’s what you are, isn’t it?” Anakin asked, “You haven’t taught us anything all year, not just because of what stupid Valorum says, but because you can’t .”
“But wait, how did he float that one time?” Rex asked.
“A potion,” Anakin explained, taking the liberty of snatching the bottle from Gunray’s loose pockets and showing the class, “Any time he had to prove himself in any way, he got pretty good at ingesting something that would make him seem like he could do magic.”
“But… Why? There’s nothing wrong with being a squib.” Rex said.
“Like hell there isn’t!” Gunray turned on him, walking right up to Rex’s desk, “Just because your family heralds the notion of mediocrity does not mean mine will do the same.”
“Ninety-Nine was born with magic, not that it matters. But he is twice the man that you are.” Rex stood, “Unlike you, he isn’t a coward! And lives as his true self.”
“A loser,” Gunray said, “Whereas I am the opposite! I’ve spent my years climbing to the top, doing rather unspeakable things to get there, to serve our good republic. And not as a measly squib , but as a politician, a negotiator, an asset to the community.”
“You’re the loser!” Anakin said, “I bet you weren’t even trying to help me at all this year. You only care about yourself!”
“Quite the opposite, young Skywalker,” He then turned back to Anakin, his breaths deep between each word as the emotion flooded up his throat, “I have sworn to protect you to powers far beyond your comprehension. And though those bonds are sacred, I wish they weren’t.”
“What powers?” Anakin asked.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Gunray asked, “But you won’t. For it was I, the squib, who outsmarted the great chosen one.”
“You think?” Anakin asked.
He leaned in close, enough that Anakin could smell exactly what Gunray had ingested for breakfast, and bore his full mouth at him, “I’ve won, you’ve lost. In fact, I won’t just see you here next year.”
“You can’t do that!” Anakin complained.
“I’ll see ALL of you!” He laughed like he’d gone mad. It was quite possible that he had, “You’ve all failed!”
Gunray’s superiority complex only lasted for roughly five seconds before even to Anakin’s surprise, the cat in the back of the room transformed before their very eyes into Mace Windu, who seemed to launch towards the front of the class with purpose. After him, Obi-Wan Kenobi followed by Perre Needmo of the Daily Prophet waltzed into the room.
“I don’t think so,” Windu said, not phased at all by the intrusion.
“What’s the meaning of this?” Gunray asked.
“Nute Gunray, you have been deemed unfit to run this or any class at Hogwarts School For Witchcraft and Wizardry by the official education bureau.”
“Y-You can’t do that! I work with the Minister!”
Obi-Wan flipped open a monstrously large tome, one that Anakin was very relieved he didn’t need to pour over, “Ah, but according to the Minister’s own signed bylaws in the updated Magical Education Guidelines , specifically Article 3, section B, subsection G, line-”
“-Obi-Wan!” Anakin sighed. “Get on with it! It’s freezing here.”
“Apologies,” Obi-Wan blinked, looking around him at the other impatient faces, including Gunray’s, “But it clearly states that in order to meet the justification for an official educating position at Hogwarts or any other magical schools, one must display ample credentials for the subject in question, including but not excluded to: experience, certification, and proper representation of the Ministry approved lesson plan.”
“I pass the credentials hereby implemented by Minister Valorum’s newly institutionalized prototype learning,” Gunray fired back, “The theoretical models. Do not quote the Ministry text to me, boy . I was there when Minister Valorum signed them.”
“That boy wasn’t finished,” Windu said and with a short nod, encouraged Obi-Wan to proceed.
“As an addendum to that, the educator in question must also meet the criteria of said schooling system, as in the event of emergency protocol, one must possess the magical prowess to protect and serve the student body first and foremost.” Obi-Wan closed the book quite dramatically, “Of which I believe you have demonstrated that you do not.”
“He was the one to set the fire!” He pointed at Anakin.
Windu scoffed, “Do you know how many fires Anakin Skywalker has started in my class?”
“A lot,” Anakin smiled and winked at Windu, who just looked utterly exhausted to be in agreement with him.
“And it is our duty as professors to put out those fires, no matter how big or small. This is a learning environment, or at least it’s supposed to be, Gunray,” Windu said, “And Minister Valorum can try and fight this as much as he wants, but these are merely his rules we are following.”
“Which means, you don’t have the authority to fail this class, as you do not have the authority to be a professor here at Hogwarts.” Obi-Wan said and looked at Anakin. “So, Anakin gets an A and-”
“-We start to learn actual magic.” Anakin finished triumphantly, which ensued a roar of applause from his fellow classmates.
“I-I-I will not stand for this!” He stomped his foot like a petulant child. He roared at Obi-Wan, “You did this!”
“I can’t take all the credit,” He smiled at Anakin, “Our resident Chosen One orchestrated most of this plan.”
“I guess I learned a thing or two about being a deceptive little creep from you, Nute !” Anakin grinned.
“Come with me, Gunray,” Windu said, turning on his heels and expecting Gunray to follow, “There is much to discuss.”
“You won’t hear the last of me!”
“I certainly hope not,” Flashed the camera that Perre Needmo wielded, “As it seems you’ll have much to answer for.”
“How did you know he was a squib?” Rex asked.
“He was homeschooled,” Obi-Wan explained, “But his evaluation documents, which are only ever really used when a pureblood or halfblood wizard is being questioned for possessing magical abilities, indicate that there wasn’t anything found.”
“But how’d he manage to trick everyone then?”
“It seems that through political contacts and favors, it was mostly shoved under the rug,” Obi-Wan said, “Even the staff here was informed that he was simply being trained at home rather than at Hogwarts.”
“Someone else must have done his work for him,” Anakin said. “Because he passed his NEWTS and his OWLS.”
“That’s what his report says,” Obi-Wan nodded, “Though given what happened to that Hogwarts: a History volume all those years ago, I wouldn’t be surprised if something less outright occurred. After all, powerful families will do what they can to see that their bloodline succeeds.”
“I wonder who is going to take over teaching,” Anakin said aloud, “I hope it’s someone easy.”
“Don’t hope too hard, because Windu apparently will be assisting for the remainder of the year,” Obi-Wan snorted and cracked a wry grin at Anakin, “And, there will be summer school for those who wish to catch up.”
“Ah man!”
He’d gotten to the field early, when the sun was still high in the sky and long before even the spectators had shown up. Unlike the first two tasks, the final event wasn’t first thing in the morning or even in daylight at all. In fact, the starting horn would sound off the moment the sun finally disappears over the horizon.
Despite his better judgment, Quinlan had still risen early that day, unable to focus on sleep when the final task was within his grasp. He clutched gloved fingers at the thought. He wasn’t anywhere near first place, which should have been disappointing. However, it was never fully about winning for him anyway. It was about representing his school and his nation, showing how worthy they were.
As he thought back to the indiscretions of his leaders, he felt ill at appearing as the poster boy for such a cause. To think that Ziro had kidnapped his own nephew and had then gone as far as framing someone else in hopes of making Hogwarts look bad. Frankly, with Sith running around, they were already writing their own reputation.
Beauxbaton certainly wasn’t as fragile and delicate as the rumors had made them out to be. Durmstrang wasn’t full of brainless and corrupt idiots (though as he thought about Krell, he could understand how they’d gotten that reputation). Hogwarts wasn’t a breeding ground for bigotry nor were they full of themselves as he’d been taught to believe.
His year here taught him once again that nothing and no one were as they seemed.
“Is this truly the best use of your time?” A cool voice broke through the darkness he’d purposely ensconced himself in. The tunnels had been useful at Hogwarts more times than one and though the very person calling to him now was the one to show him their better uses, he felt nothing but cold at sharing the space now.
“I could ask you the same thing,” He said gruffly.
He continued stretching his calves, balancing on one foot and appearing focused if only to give him an excuse to avoid Asajj Ventress’ glacial white-blue eyes. The rumors were true, she’d shaven her head and now adorned a dark accent of makeup that made her appear ghoulish. She dressed differently than before, though that much was to be expected, since she wasn’t a student at Hogwarts anymore.
Now, she wore a leather biker jacket over a red crop top. Her cargo pants were interrupted at the knee by high heeled boots, and he couldn’t help his treasonous eyes from roaming over the various utility belts that were strewn across her waist and hips. Most interesting, was the thigh holster that held a weapon foreign to him.
Where she might have once rebuked with a scathing comment, she stayed neutrally quiet, bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet, looking out of place even without the wardrobe change in consideration.
Was Ventress nervous to be here with him?
Quinlan quickly shook that thought away, as anything would not only be a distraction for the final task, but it would undo the two months of rebuilding that it had taken to move on from Ventress in the first place. While always one to try and shield others from his negativity, that hadn’t meant that it wasn’t hard. The worst part of all was that stinging sense that no one really knew that it had happened enough for it to hurt.
“Someone had to see you off,” She said and he could feel his nerves coiling, removing any sense of peace that his self-imposed solitude had given him. It was as though she couldn’t be anything but cruel sometimes, even if he knew differently.
Or at least, he had once thought that he did.
“Are you just here to piss me off or is there a reason for it?” He asked, feeling brave enough to meet her gaze. He hoped he looked as strong and unaffected as she was with every passing transgression she committed.
But as much as he wanted to hate her, as much as he’d thought about it during those initial weeks without her, he found that he couldn’t. Maybe it was the worst thing about him, seeing this good in her that she couldn’t. He knew now that it mattered very little what he saw, when she didn’t want to see it.
She looked away, onto the nothingness of the stone wall. She shouldn’t even have been able to get in the tunnels at all, but he supposed that with everything going on, she likely has not been removed from the system. Perhaps, Headmaster Yoda held out hope that she would return after all.
“I think I’ve found them,” She said flatly, “The Nightsisters. I haven’t gone to them yet because…”
“Because why?” He asked and moved on to stretching his shoulders. He needed something to continue the guise of nonchalance, “Isn’t that why you gave everything up?”
Isn’t that why she gave him up?
“Because once I do, that will be it. There will be no turning back.” She said with finality and though she always tried to be strong, he could sense the anxiety beneath her tone. It wasn’t right, for her to come here and expect comfort as though no time had passed, as though she hadn’t abandoned him with little more than a letter tucked between the sheets.
It wasn’t fair to him, not today.
If he didn’t know her better, he’d say she looked ready to cry.
“And I wanted to see you one last time,” She added and before she exposed too much of her truest self again, she bowed back just a tad, “I’ve seen visions of what this task may bring. Just snippets.”
“Are you giving this warning to everyone else or just me?” He asked, not intending on it sounding as hopeful as it did. Maybe that was just him- insufferably hopeful even when he really shouldn’t be.
“You’ve nothing to gain from participating in this, Quin,” She added without answering his question, “You can’t win, even if you do take first in this task.”
“Some of us like to see things through,” He said and looked at her carefully, “As I’m sure you’re ready to find out.”
He allowed himself to offer her the final push that she needed, feeling a bit free as he considered what she was offering him: closure. She might have arrived under different pretenses, but at the end of it all, that was what this was. It might have been the kindest act Asajj Ventress had performed.
Looking at her and how she’d changed in just two months’ time reminded him just how inevitable this was for them. Because someone like Ventress wasn’t meant to be sedentary or still, not even for a moment. Even if this chase didn’t live up to her hopes and dreams, it was one that would haunt her more if she never pursued it.
“I hope it’s all worth it and that they’re everything you want them to be… Everything you need them to be,” He said genuinely, not with malice or regret, because at the end, this is where they would be. Whether or not it included a formal parting or open communication was now just a hypothetical. They would always be standing here at the precipice of their own pursuits, ready to take the wins with the losses.
She nodded, biting down hard on her tongue to prevent herself from saying something the both of them might stand to regret. “And I hope you don’t die.”
He chuckled, blowing out a soft breath that came out like a soft whistle, “Ever the one to deliver kind words.”
“Just see to it that I don’t have to deliver your head on a stick,” She said, offering him the barest hints of a smile before moving past him, seeming a little lighter with every step. He would begrudge himself later for watching her go, “And… Thank you.”
“For what?” He asked.
“For being an idiot.”
“The pleasure was all mine,” He said, feeling himself smile.
And despite what she said about the severity of her contract with the Nightsisters, he had a feeling that this would be far from the last time he ever saw her again.
For the first time in two months, he was glad for that.
“Nervous?” Caleb asked as he approached where Hera sat on a bench just along the lake, gazing out at the beautiful blue sky that stretched above and over the horizon, clouds reflecting off the water. The sun cast a calm and warm glow over them, making it almost impossible to believe a fearsome battle would occur in just a few hours’ time.
“I think you’re more nervous than I am,” She smiled slyly, patting the spot next to her on the stone bench. He complied without comment, scooting closer so their knees touched. Hera, while uncertain about the final task and the sense of foreboding that had come along with it, knew that there was very little to be done about it now. She couldn’t withdraw even if she wanted to, which she most certainly did not. The rumors about sabotage were possible, but she had to have faith in her skills if she wanted to survive and stand a chance at winning.
“You might be onto something there,” He said lightly and ran a hand through his growing hair.
She watched him with nothing short of reverence. She’d always admired long and beautiful hair, especially as someone who had never gotten to experience it. A few of her girlfriends had vehemently expressed that she wasn’t missing out on anything and that it was more of a chore to deal with than anything else, but Hera still couldn’t help but be transfixed with its softness or the many colors and styles it could come in.
She’d decided pretty easily and early into their relationship that she quite liked Caleb’s hair on the longer side. It made for running her fingers through it while in a passionate embrace all the more satisfying. Though she hadn’t verbalized this outright, he’d clearly picked up on the memo, as he hadn’t bothered to cut it in all the time they’d been together.
Her heart sagged at the thought, realizing not for the first time that her time at Hogwarts was dwindling. Once the task was over and a victor was called, they would all return home for their own respective graduations. She reminded herself that she had the freedom to at least visit him this summer, seeing as she could apparate. However, it wouldn’t be the same as being able to explore and adventure together as they had this year.
Her father would most certainly not be pleased if she dedicated too much of her time to a boy.
“It’s going to be okay,” She told both herself and him, even if they were addressing different topics at hand. Caleb wasn’t one to think too far ahead. It was something she liked about him- his desire to live in the moment.
His beautiful green eyes, which matched that of the most brilliant rolling fields around them, glittered as he looked at her. “I believe in you, of course. I just don’t like the sound of all this cheating and scandal and what not.”
“I don’t like it either,” She admitted, keeping her hands in her lap, “But I have to choose to accept that I’m a champion in this tournament for a reason, right? That despite not having taken first, I’m here for a reason.”
“I just hope that it’s a good one,” Caleb said, reaching down and taking her hand in his, “Because I quite like being a trophy boyfriend.”
She laughed heartily, enjoying the way he watched her as girls’ wanted to be gazed upon, “And while I think that it undoubtedly suits a modern man such as yourself, I would be remiss to say you’ve other prospects in your future too.”
“True, I suppose trophy h-” He choked on his own words and smacked his chest, as though a bug had crawled its way down his throat, “Excuse me. Hairball.”
“Hairball?” She furrowed her brow and looked to his luscious locks in newfound concern. Was this a symptom of having hair? If that’s the case, she might not be upset about missing out.
“It’s just an expression,” He chuckled, “You know, like how cats get hairballs.”
“Ah, okay,” She giggled, “We say “aspirer du vomi de bébé” at Beauxbaton.”
“That sounds much prettier,” He said, “What’s it mean?”
“You haven’t perfected your French yet, Caleb Dume?” She squeezed his cheeks between her fingers playfully, “Have you not been paying attention to the many lessons I’ve so generously given you?”
“I was a bit more focused on your people’s innovative and rather genius way of kissing,” He said smartly and his smart mouth was rewarded by hers.
“Slurping on baby vomit,” She said once they broke apart and he frowned and made to smell his breath. She lowered his hand with her own, smiling so wide her cheeks felt they might break just from looking at him, “That’s the translation.”
“That’s disgusting.” He said and she found herself laughing once again, just as she had countless times this year. Her mother always told her to choose a partner who made her laugh, because life was often too serious and too cruel not to be with someone who made the most of every last second.
However, she wasn’t sure how many seconds would remain. She’d be quite busy after graduation with Quidditch tryouts and maintaining the family business. It would almost seem unfair to ask him to keep up alongside her. He had his own dreams and his own wishes and they were far beyond the eye could see.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, noticing the change in mood even if she hadn’t realized she’d stopped laughing.
“Oh nothing,” She shrugged, “Just thinking about what happens next.”
“What do you mean? Win or lose, you’ve got the world in the palm of your hand,” He said, “Didn’t you get a bunch of letters from Quidditch teams?”
“Amongst other things,” She said, “I just want to fly , Caleb. That’s all I’ve ever really wanted. But now… Now there are other things I want too.”
“Well, why can’t you have both?” He asked, and she was unsure if he knew what she was talking about still.
“It’s not that I can’t . I suppose I can, but part of me feels like dividing myself in halves can only result in failure from all fronts.”
And looking at him made it worse, because in her head, she logically knew she had to give her all to what she’d always dreamt of, that it wouldn’t be fair to him.
“Whoa whoa whoa,” He held out his hands and offered her a wry smile, “You? Fail? Come on, Hera, be realistic here.”
“I am being realistic,” She tried not to sound annoyed, because it was not him she was annoyed with, not today anyway. Though he could be rather stubborn and insistent to a fault, he was always steadfast in support of her. It came so easy to him, believing in her. He was so dedicated to it that he didn’t see that he was just like her family’s business.
“I think you’re being pessimistic,” He said, “Which considering I started out as the nervous one here, I’d say you’re not talking about the tournament anymore.”
“I’m talking about a lot of things,” She wasn’t brave enough to be specific.
Maybe that was selfish, knowing that being honest with him now would only spoil her headspace for the final task. Not only that, but she wanted to savor every last moment with him, especially if a last moment would come.
“Well, stop talking then,” He grinned and tipped up her chin for a kiss that was just distracting enough to prove the point that was ringing in the back of her mind. She winced at the fact that it was in her father’s voice. That was hardly what any girl wanted to her whilst kissing her boyfriend.
“Smooth,” She chuckled.
“Yeah, I’d been thinking about that one,” He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back a tad, “I thought maybe you needed to get out of your own head.”
“I’ve always been raised with focus,. To be in my own head,” She explained, “My father already thinks my head is in the clouds.”
“But you belong there,” He said, looking up at the bright blue sky above them, “You’re going to touch every star and become one yourself. That’s where you need to be. No matter what it takes, that’s your purpose.”
She followed his gaze and felt that too, especially as the warm sun shined down on their faces. She knew he was right, of course, that she did need to keep her own goals as her first priority before she could consider anything else. Even as she felt the pull in several different directions, Hera knew with certainty which she would go.
Up.
“Ready to go, mate?” Rex asked Anakin as they prepared to head towards the tunnels. Only Anakin would be allowed to walk all the way, as apparently it had been forged specifically for the entrances of the champions. Of course Obi-Wan would too and they’d both agreed upon making a joint appearance in the name of solidarity. It was something they should have done all along, but Anakin supposed now was better than never.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” He said looking in the mirror one last time, trying to visualize this moment and the feelings that rose within him, “I think.”
“You’re going to do great. I think you’re as prepared as you can be,” Rex said, throwing an arm around him, “In fact, I might have the TriWizard Champion in my midst.”
“I had another bad dream last night,” Anakin said quietly, moving away from the mirror and going to sit on the edge of his bed.
“Yeah?”
“It was my mother this time,” He said, “That’s all it’s been lately. It’s like… It’s like she’s close to me. Or will be close to me. I don’t know why, Rex, but I have a feeling she’s going to be at the tournament.”
“What? How?” Rex frowned.
“I don’t know,” He said, “But I keep seeing her face and she’s glowing amongst a crowd of sorts. She’s smiling at me and cheering for me. At the end she always congratulates me on getting the cup.”
“So, you’re going to win!” Rex said.
“Not for certain,” He said, “Qui-Gon always used to make it seem like these dreams shouldn’t be taken so literally. Remember the era of my Dooku dreams? Those were never quite right.”
“Even if you still don’t like Windu,” He snorted.
“I think it’s mutual,” He shrugged, “But at least Windu is mostly fair. He helped us catch that snake, Gunray.”
“Yeah, that’s true. I bet he was looking forward to busting someone again.” He said, “It has been awhile.”
“I just wonder what she’s doing here,” And the more Anakin thought about it, the more positive that he grew about his mother. He couldn’t quite explain it, but for the first time in over a year, he felt her presence. Only, where it used to be comforting and fulfilling, now it felt ominous and was riddled with questions.
She would never leave him, not willingly. However, he could not deny that she was close as she’d been when they parted that final time on platform 9 ¾. It was just the simple fact of grappling with the hope that he would see her alive and well with the hope that she didn’t just leave him for all this time.
He tightened his resolve, shoving away that feeling of sadness in favor for one of determination. He would get to that cup first and by all means, he would figure out what these dreams were about.
“It’s time to go,” Rex cut in, “The press will want to hear from you.”
“I’d rather shove the trophy up one of their butts,” Anakin grumbled, but put on his Gryffindor track jacket and zipped it up. Despite summer’s approach, the evenings around Hogwarts still grew quite chilly and the last time he’d been in the forbidden forest, he’d wished for a coat.
The two boys trotted down the steps and through the door that led to the main common room area. Most of the others had gone down towards the arena already. It was apparently a big deal to try and score a good spot. Hondo had been illegally selling tickets under the table, calling the front row, “the splash zone”.
Seeing as this wasn’t believed to be an aquatic task, Anakin could only assume he meant their blood was raining down on everyone. Obi-Wan had scoffed and said that the whole thing lacked tact, but then again, Hondo never had any to begin with in the first place.
Satine had asked who would want to be closer to gore, but she clearly still hadn’t gotten a grasp on how teenage boys worked.
Padmé and Rex had stood by him this entire year, even when he made it difficult. He couldn’t overlook that in good conscience. If it couldn’t be his mum, even if that possibility felt oddly close to fruition, he was glad it could be them.
Padmé was waiting for them at the door, decked out in full red regalia. She’d turned one of the Team Anakin shirts that Hondo had commissioned a while ago into a crop top and wore cool high-waisted jeans with golden and ruby stripes down the side. Her hair was curled in a half up-half down style and bright ribbons of yellow and red were woven through her chestnut locks. She’d dusted glitter across her skin, which only caused her to glow even more than she always seemed to. Even her nailpolish was red and a little lion roared on her thumbnails specifically.
“Go team!” Rex gave her the thumbs up and she smiled.
“You’re also wearing some house spirit, I see,” She said in reference to Rex’s face being painted to look like a lion and of course wearing his own Team Anakin t-shirt. His wasn’t cropped, but it did have Anakin’s quidditch number signed in sharpie by Anakin’s own hand. It had started as a joke, but was the sort of thing his friend wore with pride.
Anakin didn’t know what he did to deserve a friend like Rex.
Or either of them for that matter, because even if everyone turned against him and decided he was weak or a failure from all of this, he knew he would still have them.
“I just wanted to thank you guys for all that you did this year,” He said, looking between both of them, “I couldn’t have gotten this far without you.”
“I think you would have found a way,” Rex chuckled, keeping it lighthearted, “I mean, you’re Anakin Skywalker! You always slither your way out of all things trouble!”
“Even if you originally slithered your way into it,” Padmé teased. “Your resilience amongst many other traits, is very admirable, Anakin.”
“Yeah, but I only made it back alive thanks to you,” He said with a smile, “I hope I don’t let you down!”
He’d wanted it to come off light, but it had really portrayed a deep fear he held: failing those that he cared for most. There were big expectations that came with being the chosen one, after all. He didn’t want to drop the ball for anyone, let alone his best friends.
“Let us down?” Padmé shook her head, the ringlets of gold and red dancing around her sparkly cheeks, “Not possible.”
“Even if you fall flat on your face or eat dung, we’ll still be proud of you,” Rex clasped him on the shoulder, “Chosen one or not.”
“Because we believe in you,” Padmé added, “Even when you can get a little ahead of yourself or too self absorbed or too curious, your intentions are always pure of heart.”
“And your mum would be proud of you too, mate,” Rex said the very thing Anakin needed to hear most of all and all he could do was nod in response, hoping that the lump that formed in his throat would pass. “We might have helped you along the way, but you’ve only made it because of your heart. And some brains. But only some.”
He laughed at that, “Hopefully some luck too.”
“I’ll give you luck,” Padmé smiled knowingly and reached behind her neck to unclasp a necklace. Not just any necklace- this one didn’t go with her outfit at all from first glance. However, Anakin knew exactly what this was and who had given this to her just a year before. He smiled at the sight of it.
It went along with a different necklace that Obi-Wan had given him just the previous night.
She stepped in front of him, reaching around him now, creating a brief halo with the space of her arms as she lowered the homemade necklace so that it rested against his clavicle. Once it was properly fastened she smiled for a moment at his handiwork and looked into his eyes.
“Let’s go show them what Anakin Skywalker is made of,” She said quietly.
“Right,” He grinned and slung an arm around either of them, pleased that he’d sprung over Padmé in these last few months. My how time and inches seemed to fly when you weren’t paying attention to them. “I’m ready.”
It was rather unsurprising that they were waiting on Anakin to make their grand entrance to this final task. Obi-Wan found himself caught between the anticipation for all of this to be over and the concern that always loomed around the corner for his young protege’s safety. He had to remind himself that Anakin was capable and that they’d gone over many spells and protection charms in the past few weeks. He didn’t have the mental space to consider whether or not it would be enough.
They’d decided not to look into the darker details of the final task for the last TriWizard tournament, especially since the murder didn’t seem quite relevant to the actual task. The students were traumatized by whatever lay in the forbidden forest, but Satine had expressed how vague the Daily Prophet articles had been.
It mattered more what they could handle and take on during their own task and Obi-Wan personally didn’t care much about who won or anything like that. He just wanted the four of them to make it without any silly business.
“Where is he?” He asked, a spike of nervousness overcoming him as he paced back and forth across the tile. He looked at his watch, noting that they were about to be fashionably late if Anakin didn’t show up soon.
“Skywalker is notorious for stopping up the toilet, I’m sure it’s nothing major,” Cody shrugged from where he leaned against the wall. He was easily the calmest of the three of them, even if Satine was uncharacteristically quiet. She seemed to be weighing her words, not wanting to influence his own fears or concerns. It did seem that they could be played upon during the task.
After all, his spirit was about to be tested.
“Probably with more frog soap,” Obi-Wan sighed, “Ninety-Nine was not pleased to discover that little gift.”
“No, he was not,” Cody chuckled, “A classic though if I ever did hear one.”
“You were never so creative,” He said.
“No, that’s Fives and Echo’s realm of expertise,” He grinned, “Plus, you know me, I’m more mature than that.”
That caused Satine to snort and Cody gave her a look of mock appraisal as he bumped her shoulder with his, “Got something to say to me, Head Girl?”
“Just that if this is what it’s like talking to you before a quidditch match, you leave a lot to be desired in the way of pep talks.”
“I don’t see you hyping him up as you normally do!” He squawked, “Where’s the dramatic monologue with like forty well ironed points about his strengths and how he’s going to come out of this just fine and quite possibly a winner?”
“I’m thinking!” She said defensively.
“You don’t have to,” Obi-Wan smiled at her encouragingly. It was as easy as breathing, especially when he didn’t worry for his own safety or wellbeing. He’d gotten to experience more life in these past few months than he’d ever thought he would get the chance. For that, he felt free from concern.
It was Anakin who he stressed for.
“I know I don’t have to,” She said, and though she was trying to hide it, there was a frantic way about her right now that showed just how frightened she was. He hadn’t gotten to see her up close for the first task and the second had been such a whirlwind surrounded by the press that they really didn’t have time to ruminate. Now, with the clear knowledge that there was an element of sabotage at play, she had the opportunity to stress. “But I want to.”
“Maybe it can be my turn this time,” He said quietly and took her hands in his, “We have been researching tirelessly, often at the expense of our own sanity. We’ve practiced and worked ourselves to the bone.”
With a wry look at Cody, he added, “And muscle. We’ve thought of every scenario we could, from Skrewts to Werewolves. We’ve poured into the past in hopes of finding answers for the future.”
“We have,” They conceded, almost in unison.
“And despite my own limitations and shortcomings, I have somehow endured an immense amount of darkness and danger these past three years. From Zillo Beasts to Dooku to Dementors to Maul to Sharks to Boggarts to this. To stand right here,” He looked at both of them, but focused on Satine.
“And regardless of how it shouldn’t be plausible, I’ve managed to flourish in between the spaces of all that and get things I never thought I’d be allowed to want. I am far stronger than I have ever been, not because I’ve fought Sith lords or defeated dementors or taught DADA class.”
“Though make no mistake, that is very impressive,” Cody said.
“Truly a decent resumé.” Satine added.
“It’s all hogwash,” He said, “Because none of it means anything at all in comparison to what I’m feeling right now. Because for the first time in my short life, I don’t have to persevere simply under the pretense of continuing on.”
He waited for either to say anything, but they didn’t.
“I have something worth continuing towards,” He smiled, not caring if it sounded a bit cheesy. If it did, the way Satine’s eyes were teary or Cody desperately tried to pretend he was experiencing allergies was a good indicator that it expressed what he’d wanted to.
“Yes, yes you do,” She said, pulling him into an airtight hug, “So please come back.”
Cody joined in, bringing them both into his embrace. “Yeah, I need to give you a wedgie or something for that sappy speech later.”
Obi-Wan didn’t comment at how watery his voice sounded and just let the moment exist in its own vacuum. He couldn’t promise that he would return, but he could promise that he would try with all of his might.
But there was a promise he’d made first, a year ago, on a bridge. And that, yes, that would take full precedence.
He had a duty to uphold to his former mentor. And he did not intend on breaking it, regardless of what it came down to.
And as he saw Anakin Skywalker appear over Satine’s shoulder, walking arm in arm with his best friends, this was definitive to Obi-Wan Kenobi. Slowly, he detached from his friends, relieved that the warmth that emanated off of them seemed to stick with him despite the loss of contact.
Satine didn’t go far, looking into his eyes, still glazed with her own tears that hadn’t yet fallen. She wouldn’t let them, not in front of him right now. Even looking at her like this filled him to the brim with a happiness he couldn’t name- the kind that made you miss someone before you parted. He was always so sure when he looked at Satine. It was instinct to do so, and holding her hand felt like the solution to the world’s most complicated puzzles.
“Well, I guess it’s time to go,” Anakin said.
“Indeed,” Obi-Wan still hadn’t looked away from his girlfriend and a million unsaid words passed between them, but Obi-Wan was stuck on three. “Satine, before I go, I need you to know that I-”
She lunged towards him then, grabbing his face between her hands in a way that was both gentle and forceful, pressing their lips together as his hands came up to rest on her waist. They might have stayed like that for seconds or hours and he wouldn’t have known the difference. Anything would have been too short.
She broke away first, lingering in his space, caressing his face. “Tell me after.”
Despite how near to tears she’d been before, she sounded so confident in saying that, in saying that they will see each other after. Maybe she truly felt that way or maybe she was just determined to believe it, but Obi-Wan could deny her very little in this life.
“Okay,” He said quietly and then, needing to express at least some kind of meaningful gesture, slid his jacket off of him and wrapped it around her shoulders, “Hold onto this for me until I get back.”
She gripped the front, fiddling a bit with the zipper, and pulled it tightly around her, like she was engulfing herself in his own embrace, enough that part of last name could nearly be seen from the front. He figured if he were to not see this through, he’d at least like her to carry his name one way or another- to give goodness to it since its origin was hardly becoming.
“I’ll see you around, Mr. Head Boy.” She said, standing on her toes to kiss him again, this time gentler and swifter- no more than a peck.
“Yes you will, Mrs. Head Girl.” He said before turning and following Anakin down through the tunnels and towards the arena.
Despite all being described as relatively chatty, each champion was practically silent as they trudged towards the light at the end of the tunnel, where the sounds of cheers and trumpets grew louder as they approached. Through it all, the sound of Kowakian Monkeys sang above them all, surprisingly maintaining tone and straying from going too pitchy. Hera wouldn’t exactly say it sounded good per say. Nothing like the wood nymphs back at Beauxbaton.
Her lekku twitched, sensing that very sound through the madness as well, coupled with the earthy bass that only a frog choir would supply. She didn’t recognize the tune, but Obi-Wan clearly had. He nodded along as they all walked, following the song to every beat, anticipating each solo before it would come.
They’d all presumably started on their own path through the tunnels, save for maybe the Hogwarts champions, but had met somewhere in the middle. It had still been impossible to see each other, but they could practically sense the anticipation on each of them. Quinlan appeared eager to prove himself, Anakin to redeem himself, and Obi-Wan to protect not himself but the boy beside him.
And Hera was determined to win.
Despite the expectation that they would be bathed in spotlights and confetti, it was still rather jarring when it appeared to explode the moment they appeared through the opening. Balloons, whether enchanted or not, floated around them in the colors representing each school and respective house, mimicking a rainbow as they drifted into space.
Students from all schools and faculty and family along with them flooded the bleachers. The turnout for this task was even greater than those that preceded it. She’d read something in the Daily Prophet that day about it and even still, it felt as though her eyes were deceiving her at the sheer magnitude of gawking individuals.
Each was separated by section and many were wearing painted faces and sporting large banners. She was quite touched to see Caleb proudly holding up a large banner with a moving portrait of Hera making a glorious catch in quidditch. Her father was beside him, looking amused at Caleb’s enthusiasm.
“That’s my girl!” She saw him mouth, though she couldn’t hear it over the rest of the noise.
In the Durmstrang box, Jabba Tiiure was representing the school in favor of his uncle, whom no one had really heard from ever since the scandal of Rotta’s kidnapping came to light in the exclusive Daily Prophet article titled “Ziro’s No Hero”. One could only imagine what had happened to the snake, but Hera would be remiss to say it probably wasn’t deserved.
She received an approving nod from her Headmaster as well as from Ministry representative Su, which she took as a great honor. Her Quidditch and academic proficiencies had always put Hera on the map, but now she was noticed more than ever. She just wanted to make them proud.
When she caught her mother’s kind eyes, she scratched that statement. She wanted to make her family and herself proud. That was what mattered most in the end of it all.
Minister Valorum along with Headmaster Yoda stepped up to the podium that was raised higher than all the rest. All could see, thanks to a charm similar to the previous tasks where they were projected at full display. The only difference was this time they used the clear night sky as a backdrop for the footage. Now that the sun had practically disappeared in the west, they could make out the details that glowed above them.
“Everyone’s necks are going to hurt from craning them,” Anakin commented and nudged Hera, “Especially your headmaster’s.”
He did have a point there, but Hera didn’t add to it when Valorum began to speak, “Greetings to all, it is my honor and pleasure to welcome you all to the pinnacle finale to this grand revival of wizarding tradition.”
He sounded robotic as he spoke, but it was possible that he just hadn’t rehearsed this speech before giving it.
“Our renowned champions have worked incredibly hard and more than proved their worth to participate in such a test of strength, wit, and soul. As they have likely already figured out, this final task, the one that will discern a legend from champions, hinders on the depth of one’s spirit.”
He made for a pause, allowing the crowd to murmur amongst themselves in debate of what that meant. None of the champions spoke, because despite still feeling in the dark about it, that would do very little for them now. They were about to find out.
“You will all traverse the mysterious Forbidden Forest in search of the TriWizard cup, which will be no easy feat, for one must endure a great test of will before they are granted the opportunity to grasp the cup. That challenge will be presented by none other than the Eye of Webbish Bog.”
A few gasps through the crowd at the shock at how the Ministry had even been able to acquire the spider-like beast. Until this point, Hera had considered it mythical, for it had never been seen before.
“We can thank our brave Aurors as well as those lost to us for this once in a lifetime inclusion,” He said. “But because of the danger of this course and the negative past experience, each champion will have the opportunity to withdraw themselves from the contest. Simply use the portkey being given to you now.”
It was a galleon, no different than any other, save for the fact that it would bring them right back where they started.
“Those who use it are immediately disqualified from winning, but none of us would blame them.” Valorum went on.
It didn’t seem like the crowd felt that way. Some of the rowdier viewers booed in response to that, clearly wanting to see a show and not just a bunch of quitters. Hera couldn’t blame them entirely, but wished that this didn’t hinder her or anyone standing beside her’s life. Pride was a stupid reason to die, after all.
“As for any concerns of foul play, I have inspected this course myself and say with true confidence that there is no cheating when it comes to the purity of one’s soul. The true champion will arise and find themselves, immortalized in more ways than they can imagine.”
The crowd cheered, but Hera couldn’t help the sinking feeling that something was very wrong here. The Minister didn’t seem the least bit enthusiastic as she might hope. Yoda looked wary where he stood much lower as well. When bid to speak, he stepped on a stool to reach the microphone.
“Your instincts, you must trust,” Yoda said, “Betrayed, the heart can be.”
Not knowing what that meant, but not given the time to think, Hera braced herself for the inevitable.
“Begin, the final task does.”
And without even having to blink, gone was all the applause and the surrounding brightness that had once been. Now, there was only the isolated darkness of the forbidden forest. Trees stretched for as far as she could see in any direction, with only pockets of moonlight to help guide her way.
However, she didn’t need a guide to see the TriWizard cup that was just the distance of a quidditch pitch away.
Anakin was quite miffed to be dropped off in swamp water. If there was one thing he hated, it was wet shoes and socks. Thankfully, the early onset of summer limited the discomfort of it all. If this had occurred during the first or second task, he likely would have lost some toes.
The water was cloudy and shallow, only going up to knees from where he stood. He didn’t have much desire to explore it further and made his way to the muddy shore. The trees around this clearing were thick and obscured nearly every ounce of moonlight save for small remnants that flickered through.
Everything seemed to be tinted in blue from the depth of the night sky that appeared to eat the entirety of the woods.
“Where do I even begin?” He asked himself out loud, because the silence was starting to kill him. This forest was massive and he didn’t know the first thing about finding a large spider-thing that would want to rip him limb from limb for taking the TriWizard cup.
This specific clearing, having been slightly spaced out for a small body of water to appear, allowed for some of the sky to be seen.
Was he really going to have to use some of those astronomy classes that he fudged?
The stars were in full bloom that evening at the very least, so he was able to find the North Star with considerable ease. Something his mother had told him when they went camping years ago was that you should always go north when lost. He really wasn’t sure that logic applied, but it was just about the only lead he had.
He kicked a rock as he tried to occupy his mind and not allow himself to be vulnerable to any sort of brain worms that might be lurking around. They had all teased Cody for being grossed out by them, but he really couldn’t blame him right now.
Nothing looked familiar as he delved deeper into the forest, even compared to when he’d last been here, as negative as those memories had been. He could hardly make out a path coursing through the trees and if spun around, wouldn’t be able to dictate what direction he’d come from. There was no sun, so even the sundial Obi-Wan had taught him was useless.
Just trees and darkness.
It was almost peaceful, if it weren’t so isolating. The galleon in his pocket felt heavy the longer he pondered just how alone the Forbidden Forest made you feel. Anakin couldn’t decide what was more haunting, the prospect of wandering its depths forever or the knowledge that he wasn’t alone.
At the sound of a branch cracking behind him, his pulse spiked.
Definitely not alone.
He turned, wand at the ready and prepared to utter an array of defensive spells taught to him in the past few weeks alongside Obi-Wan. A carousel of them paraded through his mind, trying to decipher what would work best to combat his attacker.
However, he didn’t know what to say when, through a wall of shrubbery, walked what at first glance looked like a very large shirtless twi’lek with his lekku pulled into a large bun at the base of his head. His eyes were dark and his face obscured by the shadows of the night. His face was like stone and his body just as chiseled as such. Anakin had to crane his neck back to see him in full and even then, it hadn’t been the entire person. It wasn’t a person at all, for that matter, because when this stranger emerged entirely, he had the lower half of a horse.
“Who goes there?” He asked in a deep voice and pointed his bow and arrow at him, just so the very tip of the arrow nearly poked Anakin on the nose.
“Er, Anakin Skywalker goes here,” He said, gently pushing away the arrow, “I’m in the TriWizard tournament, sir.”
“I had heard you were coming,” He said in a low voice, “From the Grindelows of the Black Lake.”
“You’re friends?” He asked.
“We’re brothers in abuse,” He explained, “It is disgraceful of your kind to think they can use our homes as a battleground.”
“You mean they didn’t ask you first?” Anakin really shouldn’t have been surprised. The Ministry tended to steamroll how they wanted to without any indication of anyone’s feelings.
“You are young and know little of the world,” He said and hooked his bow and arrow behind him, “Leave here now, or I will be forced to make an example out of you.”
“I will,” Anakin promised, “But first I need to defeat the Eye of Webbish Bog!”
“Eye?” He frowned, “I’ve not heard of this… Eye. The only Eye I know of is long dead and he was not a monster, but a man.”
“Well, it’s a big forest,” Anakin said. “Maybe you know some fairies or unicorns who know what I’m talking about.”
“I am Loden Greatstorm, leader of the age old centaurs of the forest, and there is nothing between these trees that I do not know of.” He insisted harshly, eyes glowing a bit as he gave into anger.
“I’m sorry, it’s just, that’s the task I’ve been given and I can’t leave until I complete it,” He wasn’t about to bring up the galleon weighing down his pocket, because surely this angry centaur would have insisted he bow out instead of facing it. “It’s a big scary spider-like monster that eats people and stuff. I think it does, anyway. My friend Rex said that one of the Ministry officials who brought it here died because-”
Loden’s eyes had gone wide, “You’ve been sent to dispose of the Raging Gravissimum?”
Having clearly caught his attention and being slightly less lightly to be kicked out of the task so early, Anakin played the only hand he had.
“Do you know where he is?”
Loden’s face darkened, “The last of your kind to ask me for directions put him here.”
“Okay, but I want to destroy him,” Anakin said, “I assume he’s hurt some of your friends.”
“That is an understatement,” Loden said, looking around them as if hearing something truly worth being startled over. Whatever it was, Anakin couldn’t make it out. Since he’d been here, the quiet song of crickets was the only background noise outside of his own thoughts.
“Something like that can’t be running free around here,” Anakin said, “For either of our kinds.”
Seeming to weigh his options, Loden narrowed his eyes down at Anakin, “And what makes you so naive and pompous to believe you can stop it? That monster has ripped apart some of our greatest warriors.”
“I have to try,” Anakin said, “I’m supposed to be the chosen one, that has to mean something.”
“It might mean you have chosen to die.”
“Then at least I died trying,” Anakin said. “Please, show me where it is and I’ll do everything to stop him.”
After another moment of intense staring that easily could have been viewed as a colossal waste of time to any viewers at home, Loden finally walked away, his hooves clopping against the padded mud ground as he took slow steps. Anakin watched him for a moment, unsure if he should follow, before the centaur turned slightly, fixing him with a disapproving look.
“Are you coming, Anakin Skywalker?”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Anakin said and trotted forward. When they walked in silence for a moment, he piped up again, “So, I’m sure you’ve been asked this before, but-”
“-Ask to ride me and I will stomp you into the ground with just one hoove.”
“Understood, yep, got it!”
Obi-Wan had not taken too kindly to this specific portkey trip. Regardless of having ample practice of the mode of transportation, he hadn’t gotten his footing right and had effectively been dropped like a pile of dead meat onto the ground.
“Another happy landing,” He muttered, spitting out a strand of grass.
He stood, dusting himself off and really not looking forward to the chorus of teasing he could expect when he got back from all of this. It was admittedly the least of his worries at the moment, seeing as in all of his studying of the Forbidden Forest, he hadn’t the faintest idea where he was.
There was something about the Forbidden Forest that inspired one to run in any direction, desperate to free themselves from whatever lay within it. Running would do him no good now, not without a strategy of where to go. There had to be a rhythm to this, to figure out where the TriWizard cup lay.
To where Anakin was.
He tried to shove down that particular concern, as it would not do him any benefit at the present moment. To test his spirit would mean to test his greatest fears and that was a can Obi-Wan would not open on his own. He would not make it too easy for them. After all, he hadn’t even come across any real challenges yet.
Well, aside from lacking a single clue what to do now. Perhaps, that was part of the struggle, to lock yourself in your own mental box. Overthinking was definitely a tendency he possessed and he knew that in the worst case, it could be his downfall.
He needed to trust himself and his instincts. He just wished they would tell him something beyond the fact that the purple flower that grew to the left of him was a Belladonna, which contained dark berries that were highly poisonous if ingested. They could also cause delirium and hallucinations if turned into a candle or spray.
He bent over and took some, shoving them in his pants pocket. He’d wanted to make more flying ointment for Cody when he got back. For loving Quidditch, the guy always complained about broom burn.
He shook his head, he was only distracting himself.
He needed to look for the Eye of Webbish Bog. Valorum had mentioned that that’s what guarded it.
And from what he understood about the Bog, was that it liked fire.
He clicked his tongue and gave his surroundings a onceover. A small spark would create a big flame here, but it would not do to set the entire forest ablaze. This was the home to countless creatures that depended on the large trees for shelter and to store sustenance. Many of the bushes grew berries delectable only to them.
No, there would have to be another way.
He pinched his chin, considering his options before deciding that he would need to track fire rather than start it. From where he stood, all he could smell was pine and wood and the air was pleasantly cool against his skin. Still, this forest was vast and where one part might be fine, the other could be burning.
If there was one spell that required one’s spirit more than any other, it was the patronus. This time, he wouldn’t be using it to cast away dementors or darkness, but to find a light that burned too bright.
With everything in him, he put all of his focus into finding the deepest happiness that laid residence in his bones: a piece of cake slid his way as peace offering, a watch clasped around his wrist in the quiet of the early morning, gentle lips on his and a soft little hum that kindled warmth through his being. He thought of his friends and finally enjoying a sport that eluded him for the better part of seven years. He thought of a young boy that needed him, though less and less as time went on, and the happiness in his eyes when he’d chosen him.
And when he opened his eyes, the azure, glittery rendition of a phoenix perched itself on a nearby branch, watching and waiting for direction.
“Find the fire,” When Obi-Wan spoke, he felt like he was in a bubble, communicating with himself and his greater instincts. It was an out of body experience, letting one’s soul guide them through the external world.
It nodded once, lowering its beak in respect before raising its humongous wings to full span and flapping them three times. It brewed a blue fire of its own, though it was not the sort that burned branches or trees, but the core of a spirit.
It darted off, remaining just in eyesight and a blue flash of smoke trailed in its wake. He didn’t feel himself pick up in a run after it, but he was moving, that much could not be denied.
He trailed through the forest, pressure building in his temples as he tried to maintain focus on his patronus. It was easily broken as it was difficult to maintain, but he kept feeling the happiest moments of his life play on rerun. They floated before him like filters to a film, just so he could still see the passing trees around him, but could also make out holding Jane the Jackalope for the very first time.
It would have been distracting if it didn’t feel like the very fuel he was running on. He breathed, somehow feeling more energized the farther his legs carried him.
He would need to determine what his strategy would be to defeat the Eye. He had a million and one questions about how it was even obtained in the first place, but all would have to wait for another day. Preferably, a day when he wasn’t chasing the blue phoenix through the trees, leaping over logs and rocks, trying to retain balance.
“Pardon me!” He said as he ducked through a hoard of nargles that were billowing harmlessly around their hive. If they were angry about his intrusion, they gave no indication of this and kept about their business.
The light of his patronus had gotten closer and though Obi-Wan still could not smell smoke nor anything burning, he carried on with as much fervor as when he started. The Ministry would likely not allow for any intentional damage of the forest either. Perhaps, it was similar to the fire that lived at the hearth of his phoenix.
Whether too gratuitous or not, he did explode a boulder in his way, sprinting through the wreckage with little care for the rocks that rained down after. He could not deter from his path, he could hardly blink let alone steer away.
Distantly, there was a flash of light to his right, away from the direction that the phoenix flew in, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared and he refused to let himself linger on it for too long. He was close and he knew it. He could feel it. There was a sense of anticipation lingering in his gut, causing him to draw his wand out to be ready.
The blink of an eye, of course, changed everything.
Where there had once been a majestic beacon of hope flying ahead of him, trailblazing his way to find the Eye of the Webbish Bog, to hopefully solve its riddle and save his mentee, there was now just darkness.
And he ran square into it with a thud .
Only, it wasn’t just darkness, but darkness manifested as a human being. Or at least, Obi-Wan suspected him to be human… Somewhere beneath the black armor that coated every inch of skin coupled with plated mechanisms that seemed to operate his breathing.
But when he looked up from where he sat dumbfounded on the ground, he only met the soulless lenses that were windows to nothing but malevolence.
“You don’t know the power of the dark side.”
“Are you worthy, Quinlan Vos?” A voice as smooth as velvet asked him from somewhere far away. It sounded as though he were in an echo chamber, because it only continued to distantly reverberate until finally fading into nothing.
It wasn’t until then that this voice spoke again, “What have you truly done to be a champion?”
There was no bite to it. It was a genuine question, rooted in the pure neutrality of someone conducting an interview. However, it still resonated deeply with Quinlan, sending him on a spiral dating back to when he was younger and roped into nonsense he shouldn’t have been. Sometimes for the right reasons, sometimes for the wrong.
He’d broken apart one of the most vile crime organizations in all of eastern Europe: the Pyke syndicate. Composed of some of the most heartless, callous, calculating killers and hunters on this side of the world, his family was all but indoctrinated in them. This meant that Quinlan had easy access from a young age.
He saw his 6 year old self learning to wield a knife for the first time, never once foolishly believing he was actually learning for hunting related purposes. Not of animals, anyway.
He knew from the jump that it was wrong and his father sought to break it all apart. However, that did not mean his morality was square. He did terrible things. Stole, tortured, killed. He told himself once that those people deserved it. That they were also awful people who had done far worse.
And Quinlan went with him.
“Are you a good person?”
He was Sheb Valaad back then, not Quinlan Vos. Sometimes, he wasn’t even operating under his own pretenses. The imperius curse was a strange thing. Most were in a foggy trance for the entirety of it, losing all of their personality and distinguishing factors that made them human. They were usually trapped beyond knowing what was happening outside of their heads, waking blissfully confused.
But not Quinlan.
He’d been trained from a young age by his father, as complicated as it had been, how to stay in control of his devices. It was supposed to make it easier when his father had been killed by the very mafia they sought to destroy and betrayed by his uncle.
It was always key to be in control. That strength didn’t extend completely to unforgivable curses. No, he still submitted, but he knew what he was doing. He watched as he broke people, destroyed lives, and ruined cities.
He could still see the knife that Quinlan had been taught to wield go straight through his father’s back, his eyes widening but understanding that Quinlan wasn’t doing this at his own accord, that it was his brother that betrayed him, not his son.
Quinlan had once hoped that he knew that, understood that, but now he realized it didn’t matter in the end. His father was still dead at his hand.
He’d been a murder machine.
So much so that when he was finally freed of the curse, he still behaved like he wasn’t sometimes. It had become a part of him, almost integral to his personality. Maybe that’s why it had been done the way that it was, but he was grateful to have found a way to channel that side of him into something good.
“Do you want to be good?”
He saved people, slayed beasts, and fell in love with a sport called Quidditch. This love for the sport, coupled with all the secret “good” he had done, led him finally to Durmstrang. He lied and said he was 2 years younger than he was, fudging his records and allowing him to have more time being a normal kid.
Going to school. Being normal. Was it selfish to think that he could?
He saw Ventress walk before him, her trademark sneer adorning her lovely face. She was, in many ways, everything he once was a few years ago. Except she had so much more potential than he could ever dream to have. He’d fallen in love with the potential and the person, as wrong as that may sound.
He truly believed they could have saved each other and found that balance that he’d been searching for his whole life.
It was proof that he wasn’t done being wrong. He would continue to make mistakes and choose the wrong people for himself. He didn’t know what love was. How would he? How could he? Especially when his heart skipped when he could see Ventress in a different light this time. He could see her nestled next to him by a warm fire. This hadn’t been some ideal formulated in his head to counteract the other horrible visions.
This was something that happened this year. They shared hot chocolate and talked about dreams and stars and how horrible they are as drunks.
He could feel the neatly folded parchment in his hand. She’d written it carefully, clearly with the intent on giving it to him. It wasn’t made in haste, but by premeditation. She’d given him one last night, knowing full and well it would be the last.
And then she left him without a trace.
Quinlan tasted darkness again that day. He could practically touch it if he only reached out…
“Are you a champion in the truest sense?”
He could not say. He hadn’t actually reached into the murky parts of his soul that day or any after it. Something drew him back. He wasn’t sure now if it was the look on his father’s face when he fell to the floor, the feeling of freedom when he first hopped on a broomstick, or the remembrance of the genuine love he felt when tucked in happier days.
He just knew what he wanted to be.
“No,” He answered this bodiless voice, “But I’m trying to be.”
So when all of it faded and the stars behind his eyes became rustling leaves from way above, he sat up, head throbbing and stomach lurching. He rubbed angrily at his eyes. He’d never been very good with portkeys. They never seemed to agree with him.
When he sat up and got his bearings, he immediately noticed the glowing blue chalice that sat right at his feet.
The Triwizard cup.
He was the champion.
He’d passed. Whatever test it was, he’d passed and he’d been found worthy. His heart had been deemed pure for the first time in his entire life. Though he’d never fully agree with that decision, it was easier to breathe knowing that someone or some magical entity knew he was good.
So he could continue to remind himself of this anytime it ever got hard again. There was something extremely freeing in that, like he’d gotten the validation never given in the avenues he’d always yearned. He reached for it, grasping the hilt with all of his might and anticipating the roaring crowds that would cheer for his victory.
He closed his eyes as he was transported back to the arena, waiting for the chants of his time, feeling a broad smile overtake his features. He might not have been the winner of the entire tournament, but he’d proved himself today.
“AND THERE’S QUINLAN VOS!” The commentator announced.
Quinlan went to triumphantly pump the cup over his head to cue a dramatic outcry of cheers, but when he went to do so, something felt very wrong. He opened his eyes and looked at his hands, shocked to find them completely empty.
“VOS HAS WITHDRAWN FROM THE TASK!”
“It couldn’t be.” Hera said to herself. In spite of this instinct, she drew closer to it, slowly and cautious to her surroundings, which were practically unknown to her. She’d studied a map of the forest, but so much of it was uncharted due to safety purposes.
The closer she got, the farther she felt. Her vision started to get hazy, like she was just drugged or a drowsy spell was cast upon her. She whirled around, looking and finding only the blurry outlines of trees and more darkness. She wobbled, fighting to keep her mind and body steady.
What was this?
Was this the test?
Was she worthy?
Despite the mental toll being taken on her, which felt like a symphony of chaos was suddenly playing in her head, she took off in a sprint completing the distance between herself and the cup. She hesitated to touch it, especially when all clarity had been restored within its grasp. It was beautiful, glowing a silver blue at its core, with engravings that dated back hundreds of years up and down the stem.
“Take the cup.” Whispered a voice that didn’t come from the forest, but from inside her mind’s eye. It belonged to her mother.
“Be the champion.” Caleb said.
“Prove me wrong.” Her father said and she was suddenly seeing a terrible fate for her family, one that dragged them all apart. She watched Caleb succumb to a cloud of fire with only the sight of his emerald green eyes to hold in hope. She saw a small boy, laying in her arms, sobbing to the point of his face going completely red.
There was nothing she could do.
Dreams unmet, empires built, loved ones lost. She didn’t know what to make of it, just that it was making her want to tear her head in half.
“You’re better than this, Hera,” Her father reminded her. “Don’t give up, don’t give in. Take the cup.”
“I want to,” She cried.
“Do it.” A different voice, one she did not know. It was harsh and demanding, sinister and vile, but without a face. It was enough to snap her out of her daze and to take a step back from what she really wanted.
She wouldn’t take it. Not when it was handed to her like this. She forced herself to turn away, to walk, to give herself some space. However, it felt like her mind was itching to look back. She did everything in her power not to, to put as much distance between herself and the cup as possible. She needed to wait for the others, to see what was going on.
Why would her family encourage her to take the cup? Why would that be the trick?
Or maybe, the struggle was catered to the person. Hera was always rational, always logical, and perhaps the Bog, wherever it may be, knew that. It was supposed to expose their truest selves after all.
But she didn’t trust this. She only trusted her gut.
So, Hera broke out in a run, sprinting in the direction far from the siren songs that came from this TriWizard cup, not deeming any distance to be safe enough.
Except, every time she ran through the farthest clearing in the distance, she found herself right back where she started. She kept trying, going right, going left, even going above the trees on a broomstick she’d fastened for herself with magic.
Even then, she landed right before the cup.
“Take it.” The chorus of voices sang, growing louder with each torturous moment. They weren’t in unison either, echoing louder and louder with various pitches. The final sounded like a shrill scream and Hera fell to her knees in a fit of madness.
“I won’t take it.” She swore loudly until everything stopped.
She took a few deep breaths, rising to her feet and walking calmly away once again, satisfied to find the distance seeming to accurately stretch where it hadn’t before. Whatever curse had choked her was fading. She allowed herself this moment of peace, massaging her temples as she went.
Her biggest mistake was turning around to look.
The cup grew brighter, so bright that it eclipsed everything in front of her.
The next thing she knew, she blinked and was back in the arena, the commentator announcing that Beauxbaton had officially withdrawn from the task, leaving Hogwarts two champions as the only remaining contestants.
“I- I didn’t use my portkey!” She argued, digging into her pockets hastily to retrieve it, showing everyone around her, “See?”
“But you still ejected yourself from the task,” Valorum reasoned, “I’m sorry, young lady, but once you are out, you cannot go back in.”
“This is bullshit!” Shouted Vos, who had clearly endured a similar predicament, “I grabbed the TriWizard cup! I’m the champion!”
“You took a nap and woke up and quit,” Bib Fortuna said, pointing to the highlights that flashed across the night sky. The rest of Durmstrang looked extremely disappointed and were relatively silent from their place in the stands. Jabba certainly disapproved of the performance.
Hera squinted, noticing that Vos was clearly looking at something just out of view. He was covered in sweat and a bit manic looking, but nonetheless reached out, engulfed by a burst of light.
“I was having a vision!” He insisted, “And I’d been told I was chosen. Then, I woke up to the trophy. It is my right to have it.”
“I saw the trophy too.” Hera said quickly.
“You both were in different places, that’s impossible.” Taun We said gently, “Hera, it appears you were being chased, though not by something real… Something in your head.”
“Make that less horrifying, it does not,” Yoda said.
“But I do not remember taking it!” Hera said, “Nor do I remember casting a spell! Everything went blue and my body went numb.”
Quinlan’s eyes widened tremendously and a look of horror passed his handsome features. He walked closer to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine, I just feel… Confused.” She breathed and then screwed her face into a frown, “And that something is very wrong here.”
“Yeah, I call foul play!” Quinlan said.
“You can call for whatever you want,” Valorum said, “There is no evidence that what you experienced isn’t simply the effects of the Eye of the Webbish Bog.”
“That trophy was real,” Quinlan muttered under his breath and showed her his galleon as well, “I never would have quit. We were sabotaged.”
“Me neither,” She said, giving him a grave look, “Only I’m unsure if we were sabotaged… Or spared.”
“What the ever living hell is going on?” Caleb yelled, not quite finding mutual support amongst his Hogwarts brethren, as Hera and Quinlan’s almost immediate exclusion from the final task yielded to what would certainly be a Hogwarts win for the TriWizard tournament. Now, it was down to house rivalry and loyalty, but though spirited, Caleb also had other interests.
When he caught Cham Syndulla’s disapproving gaze, he cleared his throat, “Sorry, sir.”
“Don’t apologize,” He said in that sharp accent of his, “I’m glad to see someone sees issue with this.”
“Of course I do,” He said and didn’t doubt that everyone else thought something weird was going on too. Neither Quinlan nor Hera were the sort to quit and judging by what they’d seen, there hadn’t been much reason to.
Quinlan, for his part, was actually being dragged away by a few other Durmstrang students. Friends, hopefully, because that’s what he needed right now. Hera was a lot less physically reactive and instead just looked absolutely distraught.
He wished he could run to her, envelope her in his arms, and apologize that this hadn’t gone her way. He thought back to the way she’d been running and about all that they could see was the reflection of a bright blue light chasing after her. At the time, he’d thought this was some manifestation of fear. Certainly, whatever Kenobi was currently facing could be written off as such.
The hulking figure dressed in all black armor, complete with a matching mask that was reminiscent of the sharp edges and frightening configuration of an old samurai mask. Only, there was something new-age about it as well, like this man walked in from the future. He didn’t use a wand to wield magic, but controlled the fabrics of their reality with his gloved hands.
And judging by how Kenobi was struggling, he wielded it well.
As for Skywalker, he was holding up quite well at the moment, hanging out with a centaur that he’d befriended. Anakin was a plucky kid with a good personality. It was nice to see him lean into that as one of his strengths.
But that didn’t change the fact that there was a very different element to their scenarios versus the opposing schools. Quinlan, even in his shouts that the press were already surely associating with a fabled madness, claimed he had the cup in his hands. Hera had previously claimed to see it too.
In two different spots? It was impossible. But they also hadn’t used their specific portkeys either.
In Caleb’s opinion, it was all wrong.
“I suppose the possibility exists that this is all a big test,” Cham said and Caleb almost hadn’t noticed that the older Twi’lek had begun speaking again. “That Hera and Quinlan were positioned with what seemed to be instant gratification and failed.”
“If that were the case, Kenobi and Skywalker should also be faced with that challenge,” He said, “Quinlan basically woke up with the cup in front of him and Hera actively tried to escape it by the looks of it.”
If that blinding blue light was indicative of what she’d thought she’d seen.
“That remains to be seen,” Cham retained his cool for the meantime, “I wish both of them luck, as this is not on them.”
Quite the opposite, considering Kenobi’s position on the chopping block all year. Cody had certainly gone on about it enough for other ears to notice and even Caleb felt like the first and second task were a bit targeting.
“Hera has worked so hard for this,” He said mournfully, letting his eyes flit over to the bench where she now sat between two other girls from Beauxbaton. One rubbed her back while the other seemed to be saying something. He couldn’t read her lips from here, but he just hoped that she was saying the right things, whatever they may be. “She’s got to be crushed.”
“Hera is too strong to be crushed by something like this,” Cham admitted and Caleb tried not to allow his face to react too much. If Hera’s various rants about how her father’s expectations were too high to ever be pleased were an indicator for their relationship, he’d wager it complicated. It was for this reason he found it so shocking that Cham be so outright with a compliment of her character.
Even if he was absolutely correct.
“That doesn’t make any of this fair,” Caleb reminded him, “And if she is upset, she has the right to be.”
“She can be sad tonight,” He relented, but only by a hair, “But when the sun rises and a new day calls upon her, she has the rest of her life to answer for.”
“What do you mean?” Caleb asked. “That kind of sounds like a ton of pressure.”
He offered him a small smile and placed a hand on his shoulder, “You are a good boy, Caleb Dume, and I appreciate how you care for my daughter.”
“I’m sensing a “but” in there somewhere.”
“However,” It was as though he chose the alternative word choice on purpose, “Whether she has told you or not, she does have a choice to make. To join me and pick up the business in traveling the world and distributing goods to those who need it, or to go on a world wide Quidditch tour.”
“Both sound like good options.” He said.
“Both sound like full options,” Cham said and Caleb could sense an odd change in his tone, like the man was taking pity on him. “Just please, keep in mind. My daughter may not have been today’s champion, but she will be elsewhere. And being a champion in the real world is an all consuming task.”
He felt dread pool into his stomach and the cold harsh reality of what Hera’s father was saying. It wasn’t that he was telling him he couldn’t see Hera anymore after graduation or that he disapproved of their relationship. It almost sounded like it was Caleb he was trying to protect, not Hera, even if that sounded backwards to him.
It took him back to his earlier conversation with her and how briefly melancholic she’d gotten. Was she weighing the same thoughts? It wasn’t as though he thought things wouldn’t change after she left. He’d just assumed they might try to make it work. It was only one year, really.
But then, if he decided to become an Auror, that would require a few more years of school out of him. He couldn’t abandon that.
Then, he’d be married to his job and she’d be jetsetting all around the world doing who knows what? It made his heart hurt just thinking about it.
Sensing that he’d spiraled Caleb into this line of thought, Cham patted him on the shoulder, “The world will be ready for you yet when it’s your turn.”
“And Hera?”
“Rest assured, Hera will be fine.” Cham fixed his gaze back on his daughter. She wasn’t crying or anything, but did look particularly concerned as she gazed up at the sky to see Skywalker approaching a cave of sorts. Despite the gravity of the situation, Caleb couldn’t tear his eyes away from her to fully pay attention to the task.
He tried his best to shake off these thoughts, even if he could feel the severity from her father beside him. This was not a time to make it about himself, not when Hera looked so upset about the upset.
He would be there for her and support her. The rest would come with time.
Cody was proud to say he had full faith in his friend’s abilities when it came to magic. Kenobi was without a doubt the quickest wizard he’d ever met, even including those above their years. He was glad to have not seen his duel with Maul the year before, but the rumors had swirled of his fortitude in battle.
Seeing as he’d sliced the bloke in half, he’d say Kenobi could more than handle himself.
“This is crazy! I can’t believe they managed to toss in live people to fight!” He cheered along with the rest of Hogwarts when Kenobi dodged what could have been a lethal blow from the mysterious character he’d been poised to fight. Now this was a challenge. He didn’t know who that figure was supposed to be, but he was terrifying to the boot and moved with the intensity of someone who wanted blood.
Lightning erupted from the gloved man’s finger tips and was somehow absorbed into Obi-Wan’s wand. Cody had never seen anything like it. The crowd was going wild too. When he looked up to gage the professors’ and headmaster's reactions in the booth, he noticed a mix of reactions that varied from hopeful to anxious. They tried their best to school their emotions, most likely, as they didn’t want to show any favoritism.
Professor Tahl was likely afraid this was the part of her kooky vision where Obi-Wan was doused in blood or something, Plo Koon clapped amicably and was always encouraging, Yaddle was quite vocal and seemed to have consumed quite a bit of her chalice.
Yoda was quiet as was Windu, neither wanting to give away how they were feeling.
Despite Anakin being Palpatine’s golden boy, he stood straight up from his seat when Obi-Wan’s duel had begun. The potions professor looked contemplative and enamored all in one sitting.
He always thought Satine had the same certainty in Kenobi’s strengths, but when he glanced over to his other best friend, he found that she looked white as a sheet while tightly clutching the handrail in front of them. Once again, they’d positioned themselves at the dividing points between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, even if such house tension had significantly evaporated.
“You good?” He nudged her, even if he knew she was just worried. She has been this entire year and sometimes he wondered if she worried too much. After all, even with all the life and death scenarios and the theatrics, Kenobi had made it this far.
“That wizard…” She said almost too quietly to be heard over the chants that began to spell out Obi-Wan’s name from around them.
“Bloody cool enchantment that is, huh?” He whistled, “Not sure how they pulled that one off.”
“I don’t think that’s an enchantment.” Satine said in a nearly monotone voice. She looked even more freaked out than usual, which was saying something these days. He wondered if she’d managed to get a full night’s rest this week. Not everyone knew how to exhaust themselves with a round of pick-up Quidditch. That was the best insomnia medication.
Still, he didn’t understand why this in particular seemed to haunt her even more than the shark or the dementors had. He didn’t think it was a boggart or anything. They’d already used that for the second task, after all.
“Well, of course it can deal real damage,” He said, “But-”
“-Cody, I’ve seen him before,” She said and then corrected herself, “Kind of.”
“Who is he?” He asked. Looking around them, none of the adults seemed uncharacteristically concerned. This task was supposed to poise them with tests of spirit and this duel was doing exactly that. The brute was certainly better armed and trained than Kenobi, and stood a hell of a lot taller too with all of that gear.
“I don’t know his name or if he even has one,” She said slowly, her eyes going dark, “That’s the figure that was on Anakin’s scroll for the second task.”
“The guy from his nightmares? Rex talked about that before.” He said.
“It must be,” She said.
“Then… Why is Kenobi the one fighting him?” Cody asked.
“I don’t know.” She said, “What worries me, is what was in those nightmares exactly? And is it possible that they were real?”
“Like Tahl thinks hers are.” Cody supplied, “Satine, do you know how incredibly rare psychic powers are? I don’t even think Professor Dyas has what he thinks he has. There can’t be a million of them running amuck! If Skywalker was a psychic, wouldn’t he know who wins the task? Or how to win it?”
“Don’t be so simplistic, Cody,” She sighed, “It’s more complicated than that. While I, myself, struggle with the idea of clairvoyance being so readily available, Qui-Gon always used to say it was very subjective.”
“So, what do we do with the information that Kenobi is fighting a phantom from Skywalker’s nightmares?”
“I don’t know,” She said, “But whatever is the reason for this, I don’t like it.”
It was befitting to challenge the spirit with the lure of a demon, and the longer Obi-Wan positioned himself against his enigmatic opponent in black, the more confident he became that this was indeed that.
He was unrecognizable to Obi-Wan, save for the slight homage to ancient Japanese warriors that could be garnered from his apparel, but something about him reflected all that was bad in his world- not unlike a dementor. However, that seemed like an oversimplification to the last. A dementor was merely just a tool exercised and sometimes misused. There was no intent behind a dementor’s kiss, only the pragmatism of purpose.
This was not the case for the special guest in the forest, who radiated an ominous rage that burned with the heat of hell-bent hatred, but beyond the point of incineration. There was only power. It was as though he absorbed every bit of life from all around him, turning the forest into nothing but death and debris. Obi-Wan couldn’t tell if it was merely an effect from his presence or if the trees and flowers were truly wilting all around him.
“It would be foolish to try,” His deep and mechanical voice was clear and calm, but above all else certain that he would bring about an end to Obi-Wan Kenobi.
For the barest of seconds, he considered the galleon in his pocket, thinking of it as his connection to the world, to his friends. But that thought lived for not more than a moment, as he couldn’t just leave this monster here to torment and destroy the forest.
To torment and destroy Anakin.
Anakin .
That thought invigorated Obi-Wan and reminded him of his entire purpose. He did not care to win this task, but needed to ensure that this measure of darkness did not drain the life out of Anakin too.
Unless it already had…
No, he couldn’t think like that. He had to trust that he was okay. He was a capable boy, despite being so young. It would not do well to underestimate him. He couldn’t spare seconds doing so.
“Perhaps,” Obi-Wan said, “But I will do what I must.”
Anger brewed below the stony exterior of his opponent. He’d visibly tensed, a fist clutching tightly at his side.
Qui-Gon always said the dark side was energized from perpetual suffering in any manner, not just rage. That those who used it should be pitied.
Obi-Wan always agreed on principle, but he wasn’t sure this guy would accept his pity.
He didn’t wield a wand and had a sword holstered to his side, which caused Obi-Wan to wrongfully assume he was more of an assassin than a wizard. He’d learned painfully quickly by an invisible hand closing around his neck that he was both.
“You will die,” He boomed.
He fell to his knees reaching for his own neck in surprise. He’d never seen magic like this, where the wizard wasn’t a conduit for it, but truly manipulated all around him. Like anyone who has ever choked, he panicked for a moment, feeling that fleeting sense of fight or flight evaporate into cold dread.
Air left his lungs and his mind. How long was it that a person could live without oxygen? This had been in a textbook he borrowed from Satine. Before this, he would have been able to answer instantly. Now, it only seemed that any answer drifted farther out of reach.
Thick black boots walked towards him slowly, the reflection of Obi-Wan’s own horrified face taking shape in the lenses of his mask. Though he logically knew there were eyes behind them, he could not imagine a darkness so great that would actually have a face and a body. It didn’t seem possible that this could be human.
Breaking free from his stupor just before the world could get too fuzzy and the heavy steps too close, Obi-Wan freed himself by bringing down a tree to crash around them, breaking his opponent’s concentration and hopefully a few of his bones in the process.
He’d been damn lucky not to hit himself in the process, since he hadn’t exactly calculated distance or anything of the sort.
The pile of splintered wood only stalled the evil knight for a few seconds, but they were precious seconds that allowed Obi-Wan to reconcile with what had just happened. Wandless and wordless magic? He’d heard the likes of Yoda could perform this, but it took an incredibly gifted wizard.
That, and there was a reality to this danger that seemed to be more present than it had been before. This felt like more than just the task. It felt personal, and even beyond the strains of Obi-Wan’s spirit.
With only the strength of his hands, he split a log in two and cast it aside as though it weighed nothing. Obi-Wan tried not to be impressed by evil, and he wasn’t, but this was a person trained in all elements of combat.
“Stupefy!” Obi-Wan pointed out his wand, shooting a glowing burst of energy towards his opponent, whom he hoped to catch off guard.
However, such trivial efforts were immediately rejected, as without even having to say anything on the matter, he caught the spell in the palm of his hand, seeming to hold it and toss it around in his grasp for a moment before bowling it back at Obi-Wan at an even stronger force than previously cast.
He leapt to the side, dodging narrowly and throwing himself into the mud. He didn’t get to lay there and wallow, though, because soon he felt himself being dragged towards the dark knight, who now had his sword drawn with the intent of being used. He gripped onto the ground and all around him helplessly, finding nothing that couldn’t be taken with him. Obi-Wan raised his wand, not even able to get out the immobile charm before acting on instinct and channeling it.
He gasped, having no room for relief when he was still in such a precariously defensive position. He was not the most aggressive duelist in their class nor the club, but he had maintained a certain level of his own ferocity when he applied his own strategies.
It felt like he was literally being torn apart.
“Expel-“ He hadn’t even completed the spell before a counter spell was made. He was still stuck in a painful limbo and that sword still glimmered in the moonlight.
The shield charm was useless when it was instead used to try and suffocate Obi-Wan. Thankfully, he’d been able to roll it back at his attacker instead, which did force him to be released. No breaths were taken though, because the precious second of thought he was given was used to dodge a fire hex that went for his head. The poor tree behind him fell victim, setting ablaze immediately.
He couldn't think about that. He had to end this. The trouble was, it seemed that this unknown man could predict every move he made.
And how was that possible?
The only explanation that made sense to Obi-Wan was that this dark wizard was not just acting on his own accord or to fulfill Dooku’s wishes. Hell, even though he didn’t have any evidence substantial enough to make such claims, he’d go as far to say that this man somehow knew him, or at least knew his dueling style.
As he tripped over his own feet in an attempt to avoid being choked again, he grimaced. He didn’t really have much of a style to memorize, really.
Lightning came at him in a blaze of glory and Obi-Wan just barely caught it with his wand. He skidded backwards a bit, but maintained balance. That was the key to all of this: finding balance and evening the playing field.
He held his ground and used every fiber of his being to deflect the blue webs that scattered towards him in deferring patterns, all originating from gloved fingertips with seemingly no effort at all. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan practically had to grit his teeth and dig his feet into the ground to remain in place. If he didn’t, he knew the velocity of this charge would kill him instantly.
That was clearly the intent, of course.
Just being so near to it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and his teeth chatter. His wand grew unnaturally warm, though he fought to keep still, to absorb the strength of his lightning until he came up with a better idea.
“You will not escape,” It was both a threat and a promise and one that Obi-Wan had no desire to see the means to.
Standing firm like more of a mountain than a man, this figure remained practically still and almost patient, though it served as more of a taunt than anything else. He was quiet, save for the steady hiss of his modular device, which seemed to be utilized for breathing. The fog surrounded him, swishing at his ankles and obscuring the forest around them. It was picturesque, just how much this scene seemed to be colored from a nightmare.
Obi-Wan’s muscles screamed as his arms shook at maintaining this hold. He could not take this forever.
“And neither will you,” Obi-Wan said smartly, bouncing on the balls of his feet, trying to retain momentum. He flicked his wand at the ground, reverberating bolts of lightning in that direction.
“Deprimo” He tried to make his thoughts loud enough to be heard, without revealing what he was thinking to his attacker. This man already knew his tactics. He didn’t need to make it any easier on him if he could help it.
A hole blast below the man’s feet, sending chunks of dirt everywhere in thick clumps, but more importantly, bringing him to a crash unceremonious for someone so menacing. He’d immediately flicked his wand to send the surplus of discarded debris to fill it again, keen on burying his problems down deep.
This was almost too easy!
He was right, of course, because just as the hole in the ground was completely full, a hand burst through the earth’s surface below Obi-Wan and clutched his ankle, using a force that couldn’t be human to yank him through the quickly forming cracks.
He hit his head on the way, causing everything to go fuzzy.
He blinked, ears ringing and eyes trying to focus, before all that could be seen was the empty stare of a black mask.
Through the lenses, he could just barely make out a set of red-stained eyes.
Since the ratio of feet to hooves was not in his favor, Anakin had a hard time keeping up with Loden Greatstorm. The stern centaur maneuvered his way through the forest masterfully, having each nook and cranny memorized. He couldn’t tell how old Loden was, as it was obvious centaurs aged much differently than humans, but he didn’t move like any age weighed him down.
Though he should definitely be asking more questions regarding the Eye of Webbish Bog, whether it was due to nerves or latent curiosity, Anakin couldn’t help but inundate his tour guide with everything he could think of about centaurs. For the most part, Loden answered them, especially those about the plight of hunting and his warrior ancestors. It seemed that the monstrous Bog had plundered several centaur villages, seeking them out in the middle of the night and kidnapping their strongest fighters.
“It has stolen some of the best of us,” He said quietly. “For no reason other than to destroy and to seek out destruction. My mother was one of those who suffered at its hand.”
“She was?” Anakin perked up. “I’m sorry…I- I’ve lost my mother too.”
“To live is to lose, young Skywalker.” Loden explained, “And to grieve is to love. Some may consider us lucky for that.”
Anakin thought about it and couldn’t decide if he was lucky or not. He sure didn’t feel that way most of the time. But he did have love and he did have friendship, which were things that the likes of Dooku or his cursed followers would never truly understand.
“Why don’t you come with me to fight it?” Anakin asked, “Get revenge for your mother?”
“Revenge is not the path to healing,” Loden said with a weighted sigh. Part of him wanted to, Anakin could tell. “Living a life that honors the one you lost and protects those from the same pain is the only way to do that.”
Anakin no longer thought much about the TriWizard cup or even the tournament. Instead, he thought back to his own mother and the feeling he’d gotten about her close proximity. Padmé and Rex, though they wouldn’t say it, definitely didn’t believe her to be near and they were likely right. He couldn’t be any farther from her in this moment, tucked away in the forest, but walking besides another who suffered a similar sense of grief, Anakin felt determined to right at least one of their wrongs that evening.
They talked more and maybe Anakin should have been worried about keeping up with the others, but if he were still present in the forest, the task had to be ongoing. There was only one cup to retrieve after all and he just hoped he’d be here long enough to help get rid of the creature.
“Who brushes your tail? Or do you always let it get so scraggly?” He was in the midst of asking when Loden jutted out one of his arms as they reached a small overlook that hung over a cavern burrowed at the side of a mossy hill. Dark foliage sprung out around the opening, almost shielding it like a green tapestry, but several trees had been uprooted and desolated nearby. Thick slash marks shred through the center of the trunks, as though someone had hacked them to pieces.
He couldn’t tell if it was just his mind playing tricks on him or not, but it seemed to get darker around the cave, like the clouds hung low and obscured any and all moonlight.
“Something tells me this isn’t just a historical landmark you wanted to point out,” Anakin commented.
“I’m afraid this is where I must leave you,” Loden Greatstorm said with a curt nod.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” And Anakin tried his best not to sound like a scared little boy. It was a bit tough when the upcoming scene looked like something straight out of any horror movie that took place in the woods.
“I must live to protect my own tribe should anything happen,” He said. Any previous annoyance from Anakin’s questions had transitioned into genuine concern, “I would not blame you if you chose to turn back and go where you came from.”
“I can’t do that,” Anakin said with a deep breath, “I came here for a reason and I’ve got to see it through.”
“You are braver than most twice your age then,” He said and looked at him with more scrutiny, “Maybe even thrice your age.”
“Hopefully, I’ve still got a lot of youth left in me,” Anakin deadpanned, “Not that I think the Eye of Webbish Bog wants to see that. Even if that’s a bit of a disadvantage.”
“How do you mean?”
“I’m the youngest in the contest,” Anakin shrugged, “I don’t know as many spells as anyone else and I’m pretty shit at riddles.”
“Riddles?”
“Nevermind,” Anakin sighed, “I can’t fly like Hera, even if I am pretty good, and I can’t lift big rocks like Quinlan or solve mysteries and theories like Obi-Wan. I’m just the little one, so I doubt the Eye of Webbish Bog is going to be too impressed by me.”
“Let it underestimate you,” Loden said and tilted his chin up, “Let anyone look down on you. That will be their own undoing. If you are not the strongest or fly the highest or think the fastest, you are still, by far, the bravest.”
“How do you know?” Anakin asked.
“Because you are here.” If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that a small smile curled on Loden Greatstorm’s lips. He reached behind him to a satchel that Anakin had just noticed now that his attention was pulled to it, and retrieved a small wooden flute.
“If you ever find yourself lost where you cannot be found, blow into this whistle and we will come.”
“We?” Anakin asked and he turned it over in his hands. It was of an old make- that much he could tell- and had silver and golden inscriptions in a language he didn’t understand.
“If you survive this night, that is,” Loden added a bit humorlessly and turned to trot off into the distance. It wasn’t very helpful right now, but the sentiment sunk in. Anakin wasn’t sure what he was going to do with centaur friends, but he supposed it was always good to forge connections. Obi-Wan was always going on about that in regards to careers.
He tucked it away in his back pocket for safekeeping and walked down the rocky slope towards the entryway to the cave.
He stood central at the mouth as though he awaited for teeth to sprout from stone and for Anakin to be swallowed whole. Part of him wondered if delving through the belly of the best was wise. It felt to him like he was only walking into an easily laid trap.
If he thought it was dark outside the cave, the inside lacked any and all traces of light. Looking into it was like gazing into a pool of black ink- unending and permanent. He wasn’t even sure if lighting his wand would serve as an advantage or disadvantage.
How did the Eye live like this?
Or maybe, it didn’t have actual eyeballs for seeing? It sounded more like a psychosomatic being anyway.
“Trust yourself, Ani. I believe in you and so should you.” A gentle voice whispered in the wind.
He looked up and down the cave, eyes wide and suddenly very desperate. He knew that voice, no matter how hard the passage of time wanted him to forget. He never would and he would never fail to yearn for it.
“Mum?” He whispered, his voice echoing off the seemingly eternal pocket in the hillside.
“It is time you trust your instincts,” She said in a feathery voice, “You are worthy of greatness so long as you claim it.”
Despite the alarm bells that went off in his head, swearing that this was most definitely a trap, Anakin could also feel a pinging of golden light at the end, calling to him in a way that couldn’t be ignored. Though not literally being pulled into the cave, his heart lunged forward and his legs followed. It was as warm as it was welcoming- a sense that everything would be alright if he just followed the light inside of himself.
Anakin didn’t have the tenacity of Hera, the brains of Obi-Wan, or the strength of Quinlan, but he had guts and he would follow them.
And he would travel through the center of the earth if it meant seeing his mother again.
“This has to be a trap,” Rex reasoned nervously to Padmé and her line of friends that watched with unbreakable concentration as Anakin made his way into the ghastly looking cave with only a lit wand in his hand. “There’s no good that can come of this.”
“He hasn’t been removed from the tournament yet,” Padmé said thoughtfully, “Which means maybe this is the right direction.”
“Yeah, but what’s in that direction is the real question?” Rex asked. Though he’d initially found the tournament a cool experience at the jump, he couldn’t help but grow very antsy over watching his best friend endanger himself from the sidelines. It was different when he was alongside him and they could watch each other’s backs, but right now, it felt like Anakin was delving into the lion’s den and all Rex could do was watch.
“I’m not sure,” Padmé glanced towards the Ravenclaw section. Both Cody and Satine looked to be watching both candidates with interest, though Satine was admittedly much more focused on Obi-Wan and his ongoing duel. They didn’t wear their emotions so easily on their faces, but both older students were visibly concerned.
The crowd around them was cheering and hollering all different kinds of chants as well as insults, depending on who they were rooting for. This was all just entertainment to some of them, in the end. Rex grew particularly cross when he noticed some Slytherins spray painting goofy mustaches and glasses on a billboard of Anakin’s face.
He didn’t tend to that, though, because not only was it not worth explaining to those too small-minded to understand, but he didn’t want to look away at fear that doing so would cause him to miss something important.
Padmé seemed to be of the same logic, because she muttered under her breath, “Jerks.”
“I’ll say,” Rex muttered. “Anakin would never do something like that while someone’s life is on the line. We like pranks, but we know boundaries.”
“I know,” She said, “Except maybe his own.”
“True enough,” He said, “You know, I still don’t get the concept of this task. There hasn’t been anything remotely spirit-centered this entire time! We haven’t even seen the Webbish Eye or whatever it’s called.”
“As far as we know,” Sabé said, her glance shifting down to where Hera sat quietly besides some other Beauxbaton students. Instead of staring at the sky along with everyone else, she looked to the ground.
“Yeah, who knows what’s going on in that forest, or if any of this is even real,” Saché offered, “Maybe their test wasn’t something for us to be seen, but something that is felt.”
“Not great for theatrics, I must say.” Yané admitted, “But certainly an intriguing change-up from the more physical tasks.”
“Kenobi might argue otherwise,” Rabé retorted as Obi-Wan narrowly crawled away from his attacker’s fist going into his skull. Rex winced when he did receive a strong kick in the shin. That was definitely going to leave a mark.
“He’s holding his own decently well,” Observed Eirtaé.
“AKA not dead,” Moteé said.
“This isn’t bringing the spirits up, guys,” Padmé chastised and turned to Rex, “The only thing we can hope for Anakin and Obi-Wan is that the training they’ve received is enough.”
“And apparently, that they can endure strangulation,” Said Sabé.
Instead of an invisible hand wrapping around his neck, the hands that pinned him to the stone floor beneath them were solid and real. Tightening with every passing second and shaking with anger.
“You… Have eluded me… For far too long.” The heavy breathing from his mask sounded like a wintery wind passing through an open field, collecting snow in their wake. For a moment, Obi-Wan saw that field. It was wide and bright, shimmering with a few familiar faces waiting in it.
Was that… was that Qui-Gon?
Only he didn’t wear the usual warm expression on his face when he saw Obi-Wan. He looked distraught and though he didn’t speak, the look in his eyes told him everything he needed to know.
Run.
There was nowhere to run, not in the current unfortunate predicament he found himself in, with hands closing in around his neck, intending to tie him like a knot, and his wand just out of reach. He’d managed wordless magic, not wandless.
Though he supposed there was a first time for everything.
Or not, because when he thought so hard that he feared he might burst a vein first, nothing happened, until the ceiling above them began to fall and his attacker had no choice but to slip right off of him.
That hadn’t been the spell he was going for, but he would go along with it so long as it kept him alive.
Obi-Wan gasped for air and rose to his feet, definitely a bit fuzzy from his fall and the lack of oxygen, but he scrambled for his wand and sent the falling rocks straight towards the dark wizard.
“Who are you?” He couldn’t help but ask, his voice echoing off the stone in this unknown cavern they found themselves in.
“Your worst nightmare,” He was given only that before a bolt of green lightning shot towards him. That was never a good sign, since even in that quick moment, Obi-Wan did understand that green often meant death, so he responded in kind with another stupefy spell, though didn’t dare say it out loud.
“I strongly doubt that,” Obi-Wan retorted, surveying his surroundings. This cave looked ancient, far before maybe even Hogwarts was built. That made sense, as the Forbidden Forest certainly stretched longer prior to the school being built.
But where did it lead to? One wrong step and either one of them would be tumbling in an unending abyss. He knew one thing for sure: that couldn’t be him. Judging by the size and proficiency of his opponent, he wouldn’t be able to exhaust him or back him into corners. The element of surprise was gone when he seemed to expect just about everything Obi-Wan did.
For a while it was just a series of different spells parried back and forth at each other. He didn’t have much room to dodge, but used the surrounding boulders in his favor. Dust rose in the air, collecting in his lungs and slowing him down. The masked man faced no such problem, for his modulator clearly blocked out any and all debris.
The mask…
Despite that it may be foolish to do so, Obi-Wan dashed forward. At this, a sword was drawn and Obi-Wan forged one of his own, using his wand as an extension of the blade. This was just as well, as they sang together in perfect unison as they had since the moment they’d found each other.
He took the first swing, an unusual move for him, but he had to think how he normally wouldn’t. That was clearly the only way to win this. He couldn’t lean into his strengths, but heighten his weaknesses. Perhaps, he had to make them seem more apparent.
He let his attacker strike heavier swings, rattle him a bit. It hurt his wrists and it shook him up a bit, but this was the only way to get his guard down.
“Your powers are weak, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You will buckle to the weight of the dark side,” He hissed in a low voice that met new tones of bass.
“How do you know me?” Obi-Wan asked as their blades clashed and clanked against one another. He never wanted to find himself dueling to the death over a precarious ruin with yet another dark wizard, but here he was. He was developing an unfortunate amount of experience with the subject.
“I know you better than you know yourself,” He said, “You made me.”
This, Obi-Wan had to admit, did actually shake him. He’d managed a swift cut to the shoulder, though not enough to do any serious damage, slicing part of the shirt and exposing blood. He hardly felt it, the blood pumping in his ears was enough to keep him more than distracted.
“I don’t even know you.” He said.
“Remember the name of Darth Vader.” He said, “It will be the last thing you will think before you die.”
And he swung, going straight for the head and omitting a web of blue electricity in every way.
Spongefy!
He mentally thanked Satine, who had taught him long ago that rubber was not a conduit for electricity, meaning that it couldn’t travel along its squishy path. He couldn't remember the exact logistics of it all, whether it had to do with density or texture, but either way, he’d managed to convert himself into a rubbery object that was all but immune to Vader’s attack.
He used the precious second or two of confusion to his advantage, swinging his sword and catching a chunk of armor in return for blood. He was surprised to find flesh as white as snow beneath the surface, like it had either never seen the sunlight or it was burned several times over.
“Your tricks are child’s play.” He said before raising and dropping him with the flick of a wrist.
Thankfully, the rubber charm hadn’t completely worn off until after he hit the ground, absorbing most of the blow.
“Well, who’s the one fighting a child?” He grunted as he kicked out his foot, getting Vader in the ankle and tripping. However, when he reached for his wand, a heavy boot slammed down on his hand, and he could feel each of his bones breaking individually.
“ARGH!” He yelled, grasping for his hand and sure enough, three of his fingers faced directions they most definitely shouldn't have. He didn’t have time to lament on that, though, because Vader grasped him by the collar of the shirt, holding him high above him like he weighed nothing.
“At long last,” He said ceremoniously. “The end of-”
“-Quick question,” Obi-Wan interrupted, “Are you hungry?”
“Am I-” Vader didn’t get to finish that thought though, before Obi-Wan shoved the crushed Belladonna berries right into the slits of his mask and from the sounds of it, garbling up his breathing device. Sure, it could likely handle gasses and miniscule objects such as sand or dust, but anything larger would surely get clogged.
And because Belladonna was also poisonous, this was just a double whammy.
He released Obi-Wan instantly, who took this moment to run, setting off a confrigo spell jetting behind them for good measure, causing the cave to literally cave in. He was faster though, but even with that in mind, he was still able to catch a glimpse of the glowing blue cup that glimmered from down below.
He’d surely meet his death if he even tried to scale the side of the walls now, especially with broken fingers, so he did the only thing he could think of. He waved his wand in the form of a classic spell, one that had been taught to him very early in his years at Hogwarts.
He levitated the cup up and out of the cavern, shooting it ahead onto the grass to wait for him when he escaped.
He cast one look over his shoulder to find that Vader was gone- either evaporated by the flames or fallen to his death down below. The sword he wielded was left behind, before strangely, that disappeared before his very eyes as well.
His mind was playing tricks on him, but he gave it no more thought. He propelled himself with as much power as his legs would give him, out of the cave and into the cool night. He was never happier to have a mouth full of grass.
He reached for the cup on instinct, but stopped at the sound of his name.
From the outside perspective, there was very little to this challenge thus far for Anakin Skywalker. All he’d essentially done was meet a new centaur friend and begin to wander through the dark, the tip of his wand aglow only to help him avoid tripping over loose roots or stray rocks.
Anakin was unsure he’d ever known darkness as total and absorbing as this. If the ground weren’t sturdy beneath his feet, he’d have no concept of up and down, let alone anything else. Absently, he wondered if this was what life as Professor Tahl was always like. Or maybe, it was something you got used to.
He stayed aware of the things he could track- smell and sound. It was true what they said about heightening your other senses. He bent down at one point, running his fingers along the smooth surface, noting that it was without any moisture. Despite this, he heard the echo of a steady drip somewhere in the distance.
He’d never wandered many caves, but he had explored the tunnels, which were essentially like man-made caves, and he found it very odd for the smell of sulfur and metal to be quite so potent all the way out here.
There was no warmth, in fact, a steady cool breeze blew through from behind him, sending a chill down his back.
Part of him expected to see fire spark at any given moment, just as the Eye of Webbish Bog supposedly heralded in. He lived in a volcano for so long, which could explain the sulfur, but not the sudden urge to ensconce himself in such a cold cave. That seemed to be quite the opposite reaction anyone would expect.
Then again, he really didn’t know much about this thing beyond a very vague drawing in a mythical creatures book. So much for books being helpful. If Obi-Wan were here, he’d be sure to make a comment about that. Then, a new fear dawned on him. How hadn’t Obi-Wan stumbled upon this cave yet? Surely, he’d have figured out where it was prior to him.
He patted the coin in his pocket, just making sure it was still there. He wouldn’t leave, but there was always that comfort of knowing that he could . Maybe some of the others had done just that. Maybe they’d left.
But why?
“You’re almost there, Ani…” His mother’s voice whispered and he stopped in his tracks.
“I don’t feel like I’m almost anywhere,” He said, looking all around him.
“Close your eyes and come find me,” She urged, in the same voice she’d used when she urged him to swim to her when he received swimming lessons at the community pool. Or when he’d first learned to ride a bike without the training pedals. Or sitting at the kitchen table, hedging away at his times tables.
It was a voice he would blindly trust and follow anywhere, so he listened. He released the charm on his wand and closed his eyes before taking more tentative steps. Originally, he walked with a hand outstretched, trying to at least prevent himself from running square into a stone wall.
However, the longer he traversed, the more comfortable he became, until it was almost like he could see. In fact, with eyes closed and his breathing steadied, he could view the entirety of the cavern as though it were broad daylight. At the very end, there was a small ball of golden light.
Immediately drawn in, Anakin immediately sped up. The sound of the singular droplets falling only seemed to speed with his own succession. It would have been overwhelming or distracting if he also wasn’t filled with the encouraging tones of Shmi Skywalker coaxing him through it.
“I’m coming, mum,” He said, whether to himself or to her, he didn’t know. His heart raced with the beat of the dulled dripping sound, thumping so fast he feared it might soar straight from his chest before he reached his destination. “I’m going to be a champion…”
“My brilliant boy… You have always been a champion.”
When he arrived at the cavern entirely gulfed in gold, he was nearly blinded by the sheer marvel that was the TriWizard cup perched high above, just a simple climb or wand wave away.
Tilting his head as though he were beckoning to the heavens, Anakin swore he could see the outline of his mother in the clouds that billowed around the cup. The smile that split his face rivaled the tears that dripped down his cheeks.
Drip… Drip… Drip…
But… he wasn’t crying. It would be completely understandable to do so. He hadn’t seen his mother in over a year and the very image of her in the clouds was overwhelming to say the least. Anakin had shed many tears in her absence, but this was not one of those moments. He raised a hand to his closed eyes to justify this and found that no, he was not crying.
And it wasn’t rain, not in this enclosed cave.
He bent down again, finding an obscurely dense puddle of water beneath him now.
This water, however, had a smell to it. A very strange smell. Like strong metal.
“Ani, come to me, come to me, Ani,” Shmi said suddenly. “Grab the cup before it’s too-”
He opened his eyes and lit his wand, “Lumos Maxima!”
He was not ashamed to admit that he gasped at what he saw, so much so that he nearly dropped his wand at the sight of it. Just inches away from his face hung a lifeless ministry official, with eyes bulged in shock from when he’d met his own end. Bound by his feet by metallic handmade bonds. Blood dripped from a tongue-less mouth onto Anakin and the puddle beneath him.
Bugs had already begun to find their way to this man, taking refuge in his tattered clothing and picking at open wounds that had surely contributed to his death.
And he wasn’t the only one. Around him, dangled from various places in the room, several skeletons and corpses in different stages of decomposition strung about, missing limbs and pieces of themselves whether from the tests of time or physical removal. There was only one positioned on a large slate at the far side of the room, like he’d been worked on the most recently. Anakin nearly threw up at the thought and the smell of it all, his mind racing in disbelief of what he was seeing.
This being was distorted beyond human recognition. He looked to be more machine than man, with a white metal plate for a face and metal caging in lieu of an actual rib cage. Instead of hands, he had claws bound by iron joints and knuckles. It was impossible to decipher what species he’d once been, but the tools at the end of the stone slate indicated that the owner of this den’s work wasn’t done.
It was a downright disgrace and it disgusted Anakin to the depths of his soul, to see life snuffed out and then played with like people were nothing more than toys or pawns to be used.
And despite the fact that they were all clearly dead, some long and some painfully recent, he couldn’t help but shake the sensation that someone was watching him.
He had to get out of here. Now.
“The cup, Ani. The cup!” Just as he turned, he looked back, finding that the TriWizard cup truly was positioned at the top of the peak, just as it had been with his eyes closed. Looking around him, he made a snap judgment and dashed towards the large spire that jetted high within the cavern.
“Salire Precepis,” He gave himself a running start before he pointed his wand in the direction he wished to leap. Without care, it was possible to plunge oneself into the ceiling, as he’d seen an unfortunate Hondo Ohnaka do when trying to escape detention. He’d learned from the Weequay’s critical mistake and kept his eyes focused on the cup.
He’d been so focused, that he hadn’t noticed that the figure on the table had moved.
To this end, he only made it a few feet off the ground before he felt an iron grasp around his ankle, pulling him straight from the air and onto the ground with a heavy thud.
“Hey!” He shouted, turning to the best of his ability to see the supposedly unconscious figure dragging him roughly against the stone, heading towards a particularly dark entryway, illuminated only by a single red light. “Let go of me!”
Instead, the figure lunged upwards, likely planning on tying Anakin to a similar fate as the bleeding Ministry officer.
He wouldn’t have it, “Diffindo!”
The spell cut through the arm that clasped around Anakin’s angle, sending him backwards to the ground and the creature yelling in frustration. Thinking he’d managed to debilitate him to some end, he immediately attempted to scramble upwards towards the cup again.
This was proven as a mistake when hanging by the claws that replaced feet, the creature hung upside down and a second set of arms clicked into place, emerging from the sides of his body like some sort of Transformer. His orange eyes glowed as he glowered at Anakin, eyeing him as a predator did prey.
The Eye of Webbish Bog.
He was every bit as frightening looking as Anakin would expect. Though no fire lurked in sight, the Eye had clearly grown upset about his displacement from the Bermuda Triangle and had taken it out on many unfortunate victims.
And he intended on making Anakin the next.
Anakin gripped his wand tightly. No, that wouldn’t be happening.
“Come and get me, four arms!” He yelled, “Or I guess, it’s three arms now.”
Swift as a river, he moved, and whoever had developed his enhanced limbs and body had done right by him, for he didn’t make a sound as he did. This element of surprise had served him well, thus far.
Anakin lifted his leg just in time to dodge one of the sharp claws that nearly pierced his ankle again. It already smarted from the previous grip on it, he didn’t need to have any stab wounds today.
Having the high ground should have proved to have an advantage, but Anakin wasn’t as fast of a climber as the Eye of Webbish Bog, which meant that when he was grabbed and tossed to the wall, hitting a rock heavily and sliding down, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to do this the traditional way.
He drew his wand, pointing it at him as the Bog chased him on all fours, resembling more spider than human and not uttering a single word.
“Stupefy!” He tried, but every shot he took, the Eye moved faster and advanced at him before he could even take his next breath.
Perhaps, the Eye would be distracted by fire. Clearly, he liked fire. So, Anakin waved his wand and cast a ring of fire around it. However, he hardly blinked, clearly uninterested in the prospect of reveling in it.
All he really did was just make the room too hot to bear.
In fact, the next time he was tossed, he came dangerously close to getting scorched by the brunt of his own flames. He hastily diffuses them, realizing that he was only giving the Eye a home field advantage in casting it.
He’d been grabbed, yanked up to the ceiling, which was a lot more horrific up close than it had been from the ground level. A graveyard of horrendous crimes, committed all by this supposedly spiritual being. From Anakin’s perspective, all that could be seen was a sick and cruel evil. A rising malice gathered in his own chest. How could something like this be allowed to exist? To cause such harm?
It took strength to sit up and maintain focus while also upside down, especially as the Eye of Webbish Bog now held a knife to his throat. Apparently, he wielded a whole variety of different tools at his immediate disposal, including a few wands strapped to his belt.
It said nothing, though its eyes were as red as lava, suddenly. Though there was no mouth to be seen, he could feel it smiling. Without thinking, Anakin shoved his wand in between the space of the metallic rib cage, piercing some sort of internal mechanism- whether it be an organ or a hard drive. He couldn’t honestly tell which parts of this thing were alive and which weren’t. Regardless, it caused the Eye to lurch back and momentarily release his grip with one hand, making Anakin dangle yet again. His wand, unfortunately, was plucked from the center and now in its hand, ready to drive into Anakin.
A weakness, apparently.
He kicked him in the same spot, crunching something and sending the creature into a coughing fit and sending Anakin straight to the ground again. He managed to prevent himself from hitting the ground too hard, protecting his extremities, but he still shook at the impact.
At the very least, he could hear the Eye now, with how heavily it coughed from Anakin’s attack.
He needed the moment to think, he kept glancing up at the cup. He wouldn’t be able to maintain this song and dance of running and getting flung into stone. He was strong, but he wasn’t invincible. Surely, the other victims around them were also wizards or magical beings of some kind. He caught a glimpse of a female centaur’s skeleton and his heart sank as he thought of Loden.
This monster needed to be stopped.
Or at the very least, removed.
Then, Anakin had an idea. For one thing, if the cup couldn’t be reached, perhaps he had to bring it to him. Such a thing wouldn’t be possible with the Eye of Webbish Bog crawling around on all legs, gripping walls and appearing in front of him with nowhere to run or hide. And while the Eye gave no direct signs of possessing magic, he knew how to elude it well enough that Anakin likely wouldn’t be able to spell his way out of this one.
Not by his hand, anyway.
“Think fast, creepy!” He ripped the pocket of his jeans, letting the galleon fall to the ground. Using his foot and not his hands, at fear of his own disqualification, he kicked the coin towards the spider, not surprised that it was caught between clamped hands.
There was little time for the Eye of Webbish Bog to gloat for his game winning catch, because in a moment’s notice, he warped into thin air, leaving Anakin’s wand behind for the taking.
He released a deep breath before grabbing his wand, which was covered in a green substance that he could only guess was the blood of the Webbish Bog. Not wanting to waste a second, he raised his wand again, not jumping this time.
“Ventus!” He commanded the wind spell to knock the cup off the tip of its spire and tumble onto the ground. Officials would likely be grimacing somewhere in the distance at his mistreatment of the relic, but seeing as Anakin had nearly been disembodied by an evil spider placed there by the Ministry, he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“Excellent job, Anakin, now grab the cup,” His mother’s voice returned to his head and he felt reinvigorated for a moment and jogged over to the TriWizard cup, briefly stunned at the severity of this moment.
Had he truly done it? Had he won the final task? And the tournament as a whole?
He bent down, reaching for it with open hands, Shmi’s comforting and soothing voice in his ears, promising that everything was going to be alright. He just had to be the one to claim the cup. He was the true champion.
But then, he heard a scream, one that shot him up to his feet. It was Obi-Wan.
“Anakin no, the cup. He’ll be okay. Take the cup.” His mother said again, this time frantically.
He looked back to it.
“I have to help him, mum,” He said, removing his jacket and gathering the cup in it like a sack and threw it over his shoulder, “Then I’ll claim it. I promise. I’ll make you proud.”
“Anakin, he waits-”
“Yeah, he does,” Anakin swallowed, and he silently said a million apologies to his mother, who yes, he desperately wanted to see again. He needed to be reunited with her. And he would be soon. However, that didn’t mean he could let the one person who had been there for him fall.
He couldn’t lose anyone else.
So, Anakin ran as fast as his legs could carry him, determined to find Obi-Wan.
“Tissues! Get your tissues! Only one sickle per pack! Buy two and you get a free barf bag!” Hondo advertised as he crawled through the stands with his own portable tray. Earlier, he’d been selling balloons, fireworks, horns, you name it. Whether it be tears of joy or sadness, he wanted to be ready. It was anyone’s game at this point. Besides, he had to switch gears at the chance of turning a profit.
“What the hell is wrong with you, Hondo?” Aayla asked as he passed them.
“Er how much time do you have?” He asked as he leaned against the railing, “Mama Ohnaka once said that Hondo was dropped on his head seventy-”
“-We don’t care.” Stass interrupted, “Kenobi and Skywalker could die and you’re trying to sell stuff at a time like this?”
“My good friend Kenobi would want nothing less!” Hondo said, even if he didn’t admit that he was also feeling nervous about the whole ordeal. Between the dark wizard and the crazy spider thing, it was not looking good for anyone.
“Step foot anywhere near Satine with that rubbish and I swear, you’ll never see the light of day,” She swore.
Hondo wasn’t that foolish or daring. Besides, he did empathize with the feeling of losing someone for a long period of time. He had recently just been reunited with his brother, after all.
“So, is that a no on the tissue packs?” Hondo asked, “Hondo worked very hard at putting Nute Gunray’s face all over them. Something everyone would want to blow their snot into!”
“I’ll admit, that’s creative,” Muttered Aayla, “But no! We’re trying to watch the bloody tournament, you idiot!”
“Let me know if anything crazy happens!” Hondo said, even if to him, it just looked like the girls were sitting around. Everyone was sitting around, for that matter. At least he was taking action! Sure, that action was to better himself and the Ohnaka family name (but mostly himself), but he couldn’t begrudge himself for seizing his opportunities.
Besides, it was allergy season and some of the younger students did hop on the opportunity. It helped that Hondo made sure to raid the bathrooms prior, removing all tissues beforehand and replacing the toilet paper with the roughest brand. No one would want to rub that anywhere near their noses.
Eliminating the competition, even if free, was everything.
“Why would we need a barf bag?” Bail Organa asked with crossed arms when he walked through the Hufflepuff section.
“We don’t know what we’re going to see! Now are you paying up or not?”
“No, and if you don’t stop, I’m going to have you thrown in detention for the rest of the year!” Bail threatened.
“Hondo already is in detention for the rest of the year,” Which in all fairness, was a month.
“AND THIS LOOKS LIKE ANAKIN SKYWALKER IS DISQUAL-” The commentator stopped instantly as the thing that appeared in Anakin’s place was most certainly not Gryffindor’s young champion.
Everyone grew silent, partially in shock and partially in fear. Nothing looked more surprised than the actual beast in question, which faltered instantly under the guise of the bright stadium lights that cast their bright beams upon it.
“Now that is going to make a mighty cool bobblehead,” Hondo grinned.
“What… What is that?” A girl asked.
“Is that the Eye of Webbish Bog?” Another boy asked.
A few more voices spoke up.
“Somebody stop it!” Screamed several at the same time.
It didn’t leave much time to be viewed, however, because upon realizing it had been yanked from its home, it got on all legs and scrambled back into the forest, missing the beams of light that erupted from several of the professors. A few Aurors, who had arrived at the scene in order to ensure all was safe, made way to chase it, but were stopped by the Minister of Magic.
“We can’t! It’ll cancel the tournament!” Gunray said to the other professors who gathered near the opening. Performing the muffling spell, they ensured that their conversation would not be debuted for all to hear.
“Those boys could die with that thing loose!” Tahl said.
“And you saw how Skywalker managed!” Valorum reasoned, “Perhaps, it’s almost over-”
“-He was quite brilliant,” Palpatine stroked his chin.
“I’m not even convinced what Skywalker did was allowed ,” Gunray huffed.
“We’re not going to allow you to be the deciding factor of what’s considered fair,” Windu said, “We have to pause the task!”
“Why? Was this not the point? To test spirit and will?” Bib Fortuna asked and looked to Nala Se, “I find it suspicious that the moment Hogwarts children are at risk of difficulty, you want to dive in and save them.”
The solemn Kaminoan nodded, “It was the intent to pit them against the Eye of Webbish Bog.”
“Of which that thing is not!” Windu scowled and looked to Yoda, “Surely, you disagree with all of this!”
“Strongly, I do.” Yoda looked to the Aurors and to Valorum, “Tampered with, this task has been, whether at your hand or not.”
“And it will be investigated,” Swore Tahl. “We will see to that.”
“There are countless beasts in that forest,” Gunray said and looked to Ki-Adi-Mundi, “You won’t even explore the depths of it due to the deadly creatures it might hold.”
“For the safety of my students,” Mundi said, “Which I don’t think you care that much about, Gunray.”
“Let’s not get hasty. Gunray is merely trying to-”
“-Get these students killed!” Yoda said angrily, “Support this, do you, Minister?”
“Do not speak to Minister Valorum that way-” Gunray said.
“-Quit pretending like you haven’t been lurking around with Ziro Tiure, Gunray!” Tahl spat and then turned her fire back to Valorum, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re both in bed with Dooku at this point.”
“The Minister is not aligned with Dooku! He could never!” Gunray said.
“But you could?” Windu pointed out.
Silence. Even Valorum watched Gunray in quiet disbelief. His reaction, from what Windu could tell, was entirely genuine. Windu, however, could only roll his eyes at the clutching of pearls that was going on right now.
“I didn’t say that! Why would- Why would that be the case?” Gunray faltered.
“You have been quite insistent on this theoretical magic practice,” Valorum said in a low voice, “Which has only stood to blow up in my face.”
“I thought that was just because he was a squib,” Palpatine said.
“I am so much more than that!” Exploded Gunray, clearly easily set off by the subject, “I’m nothing like that useless groundskeeper you call an employee!”
“Yeah, you’re much much worse,” Tahl argued.
“That useless groundskeeper has done everything in his power to keep students safe, happy, and healthy,” Windu said, “He is ten times the man you could ever be. Even without supposed Sith entanglements!”
“Supposed? I- I won’t stand for this!”
“And was it not you who constantly accused Ninety-Nine and Tahl to be guilty of the kidnapping of Rotta the Hutt?” Asked Valorum, “It was almost like you wanted the Hutts to turn on us.”
“But- But-”
“You were also the one to distribute tasks for the first task,” Windu said, “And were strangely siding with the Kenobis about the second task being a hoax!”
“This is all just conjecture! I’m innocent because…” And he looked between them all, before he realized that no matter what he said or did, no one was going to believe him. He was a horrible liar altogether, really, and an even less competent person.
“This Ministry is broken!” Gunray burst, “And- And something must be done about it!”
“And that something is a Sith terrorist, Gunray?” Valorum turned towards him, causing Gunray to slink backwards. “How dare you? I’ve done everything to propel you to the highest ranking position! To make your people happy?”
“Does anyone look happy, Minister? We could dominate the world, acrew riches and wealth unseen before, instead of settling for second fiddle. I’m tired of it.” Gunray said and shoved through the bubble of silence that had kept them all from being heard before extending his arms towards the crowd. Some of the nerves that always seemed to perpetually plague him fell off of him in waves, turning into the first form of a confident Gunray that Windu had ever seen.
“What is that idiot doing?” Palpatine asked in an uncharacteristically harsh voice. For this case, Windu couldn’t help but wonder the same thing.
“People of Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons,” He clasped his hands, “As many of you have seen, countless times through the year, the Minister of Magic, Finis Valorum, does not have a hold on his people, community, or worse, his enemies. I have served Valorum for many years, and he has only sought to bury me, to bury us . From the real world.”
Everyone watched him with unblinking eyes as he went on.
“Though I know it is shocking to think of, but if you are tired of hiding who you are and wish to take care of our own , versus obsessing over what muggles or their breed might think. If you’re tired of homeless witches and wizards, when there’s an entire world of wealth out there to be claimed, maybe, there is cause for separation from all of this.”
Still no response.
“And that is why, as crazy as you may all find it, I am publicly endorsing and supporting Count Dooku’s separatist movement!”
He raised his fists in the air, expecting at least some applause most likely, however all that could be heard was crickets until one of the Fett boys stood up and shouted, “Yeah no shit, Gunray!”
“We knew you were a bloody fraud all along!” Aayla Secura chanted.
“You musty old frog!” Added Caleb Dume.
Trash, supplied by Hondo Ohnaka (Windu was fairly certain they were supposed to be memorabilia and trinkets) was flung at the Neimoidian, who scowled and cried as he fell to his knees, his hat getting knocked off.
“Get off the stage, squib!” Sebulba hissed.
It quite honestly might have been the only time a confirmed dark wizard sympathizer was literally laughed into handcuffs. Off to Azkaban he would go and Windu couldn’t find the space to be the least bit sorry.
This was what happened when government tried to insert themselves too much.
Each of the professors looked amongst themselves, Valorum instantly being flooded with a rush of paparazzi who were full of questions. Even though he didn’t like him much or how he ran his departments, Windu still sent a gust of wind to knock the cameramen back.
“Not here,” He boomed and looked to Yoda, who nodded at him.
“Over this tournament will-” However, when they all looked up at the sky, they saw Obi-Wan and Anakin talking to each other, staring down at the TriWizard Cup.
“How did you even find me?” Obi-Wan asked Anakin, who judging by the look of the boy, had been through hell and back. His hair was askew and most concerningly, blood marred his face. It was what was behind his eyes that looked more affected, though. He’d obviously been through a great deal. He reached out and using his sleeve, wiped some of it free from Anakin’s cheek.
“I don’t know,” He breathed heavily from his run, “I saw this bright burst of fiery light and thought to myself, yeah that has to be him. Plus, I heard you yell. Are you okay?”
“I think so,” Obi-Wan nodded, and looked back to where he’d escaped Vader’s wrath. He’d half-expected the dark wizard to emerge from the crumbled cavern, but there was nothing, “Just a monster.”
“Tell me about it,” Anakin shook his head.
“Why are you covered in blood?”
“It’s not mine.” He winced, “Though you don’t really want to know.”
“We’ll most certainly be talking about that later, then,” He gave him a scrutinizing gaze. No, he wouldn’t be escaping explanation so easily, even if Obi-Wan was guilty of trying similar tactics of casual conversation.
“Right, that and your broken fingers,” Anakin nodded towards Obi-Wan’s hand, “I’m not great at healing spells, or else I’d offer.”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” He flexed his hand, keeping his hand at limited mobility if possible, “Let’s figure out the biggest question at hand.”
“Yeah, why are there two of them?” Anakin asked Obi-Wan as they both stared at the grass, where both of their respective TriWizard cups had been deposited from their various ventures.
“You’re asking me?” Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. As far as Obi-Wan could tell when he bent down, there wasn’t any defining differences. “And where are the others?”
He looked around the woods again, finding it too silent to be real.
“Maybe they found their own cups too?” Anakin asked, “But I thought this wasn’t going to be like the first task, with different paths and all that?”
“I didn’t think so either,” Obi-Wan pinched his chin in thought, “Very curious, indeed. It could be a trick, I suppose, but one of them has to be real.”
“Well, what did you do to get yours?” Anakin asked. “Maybe whichever task was tougher is the true one?”
“Maybe,” Obi-Wan frowned, “I fought a dark wizard nearly to the death in a crumbling cave, one that somehow, despite my never seeing him, knew me through and through. He called himself Vader.”
“Wait, Vader?.” Anakin’s eyebrows shot to the fringe of his dirty blond hair, which had grown a great deal darker this year, “That’s the guy from my nightmares! Was he tall and black and scary?”
“Very much so!”
“You beat him?” Anakin shook his head, “Maybe now I’ll stop dreaming about him.”
“Maybe,” Obi-Wan paused, “It just… It didn’t feel right?”
“Judging by how you look, it didn’t come easy,” Anakin said with a shrug, “Does this make me a psychic?”
“I’m not sure what any of this means, I’m afraid,” And Obi-Wan sighed. It was better to be honest in the end with the boy. Maybe, he didn’t need to be the person with all of the answers for Anakin. He didn’t look so upset this time about it. “What did you do?”
“I fought the Eye of Webbish Bog.”
Obi-Wan’s eyes bulged, “Why didn’t you start with that?”
“Well, I wanted to hear about your scary wizard too!” Anakin shrugged, “Plus, that Vader guy is no joke. I’ve lost too many nights of sleep to that guy. Apparently, he’s my biggest fear or something. I feel like… I feel like somehow he’s connected to my mother’s kidnapping.”
“You think that he did it?” Obi-Wan asked.
“I don’t know what I think,” Anakin answered honestly, “But you know what I do know?”
“What’s that?”
“I want to get out of here,” He said with a sly smile, “And I think the best way for us to do that is for both of us to grab both cups.”
Obi-Wan shook his head, “Absolutely not! You fought the Eye of Webbish Bog, Anakin! Do you not understand how great of an accomplishment that is? That was the entire point of this task!”
“Yeah, but you fought Vader, which even if it’s not obvious, feels like a big part of this!” Anakin said, “And I didn’t really win against the Bog. I just… Sent him somewhere else.”
“Where?”
“...”
“Where did you send him, Anakin?”
“... Back to the arena?” He winced.
“Oh bloody hell! Anakin!”
“So, that means he’s on his way back probably for my blood this time! We’ve gotta get out of here and I won’t take no for an answer. I won’t leave without you.”
Obi-Wan stared at him, it truly dawning on him that Anakin was growing up. “But, what of the task? Your mother-”
“-The Ministry isn’t going to help me find her,” Anakin said ruefully, “I don’t think they can, but I know you will. Just like you’ve always been there for me. I wouldn’t even be alive right now if it weren’t for you.”
They stared at each other for another beat before Anakin gestured to the grass again, “Now, come on! At the count of three, we grab both, got it?”
“Very well,” Obi-Wan knelt, following Anakin’s footsteps. “I still think we should perhaps think about this more strategically-”
“-One.” Anakin cut him off.
“Two.” Obi-Wan sighed, rolling his eyes. “Always on the move.”
“Three.” Anakin said and they both grasped the hilts of the cups, twisting and warping away from the clearing at the center of the forest.
With everything in him, Obi-Wan held a strong grip onto both, although it became abundantly clear that they were set to two separate destinations. Burning in his hand, deep and cruel, seized him and he nearly let go. He let out a scream, but no sound came out. They twisted and swirled, Anakin’s concerned eyes being the last thing he saw before his closed.
And when they opened, he laid at the bottom of an open grave. Count Dooku standing triumphantly over him.
“And they’ll be thankful for it… I hope.” Anakin said, “But just in case, maybe we should just bring Hondo the box.”
“The whole tank?”
“Yeah, I mean, then Hondo can just free them,” Anakin said with a shrug.
“That… Might be the smartest idea you have ever had,” Rex said thoughtfully, “Better him than us, right?”
“I mean, this is his family’s pet.” He said, “Help me lift.”
So, Rex bent over to the other side and helped Anakin lift the very large tank of rattling Monkey-Lizards, and haul them down through the exit that appeared before their very eyes.
—Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden // Magical Forces AU (ao3 link)
“As he was thinking of the (very few) places Kenobi could have drifted to, he turned with the intention of checking Ravenclaw’s locker room. Before he could get far he noticed the fabric draped over the stands was caught up. He frowned, did no one take pride in their Quidditch field these days? He moved to tug down the fabric into place when he saw something move in the darkness. He stepped inside, hand reaching for his wand. He whispered a quick “lumos!” but the second the light spread through the space he almost dropped it in shock.
Equally shocked was Satine who let out a squeak, pushing Obi-Wan away who had turned to stare at him with wide eyes and a red face. It didn’t take long for him to put two and two together.” —Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden // Magical Forces AU (ao3 link)
“Satine, be reasonable,” Obi-Wan sighed as he pushed a few extra books into his bag, “There’s no reason for us both to miss class for a simple errand.”
“And turn my nose up at the clear rule violation?” Satine shot back, sitting on the railing above him, likely for the attempt at intimidation. At least he didn’t have to worry about the pacifist kicking him in the face, “If you would recall, that Article 3 subsection D denotes that although a student can gain permission to leave the school, they must be accompanied .”
“And I’ll have you recall that those accompanying you would already be a Professor or Prefect. As Head Boy I fall into the prefect category,” He pointed out as he adjusted his school cloak so his Head Boy pin was better seen.
“There’s nothing to denote that the Head Boy gets special permission!” Satine hopped off the ledge so she could more easily stare him down.
“Headmaster Yoda also gave me his full permission,” Obi-Wan waved the piece of parchment, like it was a winning ticket, “Stated here, a day of missed classes, so long as I make them up. I can apparate off grounds to Diagon Alley.”
“Fine,” Satine sniffed, but Obi-Wan should have known there was no winning against Satine, “As Head Girl I will be enacting my Right to Suspicion.”
“Oh please,” Obi-Wan stood up, arms crossed. Her eyes were even more blue reflecting the light of a cloudless sky, “What have you got to be suspicious about? Article 85 of the Prefect Handbook clearly states that a Right to Suspicion can only be invoked if the prefect has clear concern for the safety of a student or faculty member.”
“And I do!” Satine stepped closer so she was practically under his nose, “You’re being targeted while here at school. We don’t know who’s after you or where they are and we most certainly don’t know what they’re planning. For all we know they could be watching your every move.”
“We also don’t know if they are. Therefore you really shouldn’t be worried,” His argument was weak.
“I invoke my Right to Suspicion,” She deadpanned before stepping back just a little out of his personal space. Still, she extended her hand to him, which he took in his own. Their fingers brushing against each other before they let their hands hang between them, “Now come on, we haven’t got all day.” Satine let him lead, even though she didn’t have to.
He couldn’t argue with her further even if he wanted to. She had bested him in a well worded debate and they both knew when it was time to throw in the towel. Though it was fairly often that the loser of such events was him. He could hardly find the space of mind to be mad. Not when Satine subtly ran her thumb across his hand and glanced over at him with calm, but thoughtful eyes. It wasn’t very often they had found time to simply be alone.
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to avoid staring too long.
Satine had clearly been planning on coming with him from the start. Although she had her Hogwarts’ robes on, she was wearing casual wear underneath. He felt a little overdressed next to her, in his complete Hogwarts’ uniform, although he supposed it really wasn’t out of the ordinary. Plus- He glanced over and she blinked in surprise before turning her gaze away, a very slight pink tint rising to her cheeks. It didn’t seem like she minded the way he was dressed.
Once they passed through the magic surrounding Hogwarts, Obi-Wan pulled out his wand. Apparition was something he certainly never wanted to do without proper thought. He’d learned the hard way himself, when he was much younger, what happened to a wizard who did so carelessly. He made sure to plant his feet, to really feel himself and Satine next to him before thinking hard about Diagon Alley. Some people said they visualized such things, but Obi-Wan had found it much easier to just think of every fact he could about the place. To him, he never found anything clearer than facts.
With a crack they found themselves amongst the wizards of Diagon Alley. No one even batted an eye at their appearance, simply moving around them easily and continuing on their way. The place wasn’t as crowded as it often was a few weeks before school, but there was still a fair bit of activity going in and out of shops. A few vendors had set up along the streets, shouting their offerings at passerbyers.
To Obi-Wan, the place was always a bit exciting, it was just about the opposite of the other magical spaces he’d occupied, not counting Hogwarts of course. But a lot of pureblooded wizard spots were stark and quiet. Every footstep would echo through the halls and you would be heard coming a mile away. Here he couldn’t even hear his footsteps upon the cobblestone ground from the sounds of general milling about.
“So where to?” Satine asked as she too looked around with bright eager eyes, “Were you thinking of picking up a few more books for research?”
He winced, a bit of guilt weighing on his heart as he found himself admitting very easily what his intentions were, “Actually I… I was headed to someplace else, Knockturn Alley-”
“See?” Satine paused, keeping him tethered to her by their conjoined hands, “I was right to be suspicious.”
“Look Satine,” Obi-Wan ran a hand through his hair again, “Knockturn Alley isn’t exactly charming , but it does hold some rather hard to get, yet important materials and curios.”
“None of this sounds particularly innocent, Ben,” Satine raised an eyebrow, “Were you trying to make a point with that?”
“I know, it has the tendency to be rather seedy,” He gave her a half smile, “I’m not defending it, which is why you can stay here, maybe you can find us some further research material-”
“I’m not afraid,” Satine placed a hand on his chest. It did its job to shut him up before she let it drop again, “I will be going with you.”
“You don’t have to, really,” He put a hand on her shoulder, but she just gave him that look. The one that warned him that he may be doing something stupid.
“Don’t I know that, Ben. I don’t need you shoving me off to the side while you go galavanting around,” She rolled her eyes, “I’m here with you.”
“If you absolutely insist,” He huffed before turning slightly.
“What I do require knowledge of,” Satine tugged him back towards her, “Is what we’re going to be doing skulking around in the dark. I think that’s a fair trade off, what with me being your chaperone and all.”
It was Obi-Wan’s turn to roll his eyes, “I’ve read of a jewel. It’s able to help protect your spirit.”
“Oh so you are preparing yourself for the tournament after all,” A devilish smile stretched itself across Satine’s face.
“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” Obi-Wan argued, “I don’t recall sitting around and doing nothing?”
“Well, between you teaching every student in the school and tending to wounded animals, I thought you’d found yourself preoccupied,” Satine shrugged.
“Honestly Satine, when do I not overfill my plate?”
“When you skip meals to study usually,” She gave him a pointed look. “So, where did you read of this so-called spirit protector?”
“ Detections and Darkness: Protecting your Soul from Unwanted Magic … Volume 2.” He admitted, wincing when he caught her narrowed glare, “I skipped lunch to do a bit of light reading.”
“After all that dithering about abiding by the rules of the Restricted Section,” She scoffed, “You’re sneakier than you look.”
“I’ll have you know I had a permission slip.” He said, “It was a bit strange, actually. It was blank and for this book specifically. I figured I should definitely take a look.”
“A blank slip? So, you don’t know who filled it out?” She asked.
“I’m suspecting Professor Tahl, considering the material,” He said, “I read somewhere that she’s an expert on international magical jewels.”
“So, why not be out with it?” She asked, clearly still suspicious, though this time not of him.
“Maybe she doesn’t want there to be any suspicions given her current position,” He proposed, “She is being accused of kidnapping.”
“If it is her, her concern for you does not make me feel warm and fuzzy,” She said, “She is a psychic, after all.”
“We think.”
“We know.” She rolled her eyes again.
He didn’t have to think of any more wit for the conversation though, because all possible attempts at humor had a tendency to trail away once crossing over into the dark alley. One would think that Knockturn Alley was typically abandoned in foot traffic, but that wasn’t true. Obi-Wan himself had visited a fair few times though rarely alone. Mostly, he would be there to carry his parents' bags, but once he got older, he did run a few errands for them on his own.
He’d like to say it grew less distasteful with each visit, but he would be lying. He recalled a time where he almost lost a finger to a stray three-headed dog.
The sky was alway dark and cloudy, yet he’d never seen it rain. Spiders scurried around in the dark and occasionally a rat would brush past their legs. It wasn’t exactly sanitary. Satine shivered and honestly she was rather lucky she’d thought to wear pants today, maybe he should have warned her about those rats prior.
“Stay close to me,” He murmured, catching the lingering eyes of shady patrons and vendors as they passed. He schooled his expression to be neutral and passive, as you never wanted to give anyone a reason to believe you were afraid. Normally, Obi-Wan wasn’t, but he was rather uncomfortable with the way they seemed to hone in on Satine.
Newcomers were never welcomed with open arms.
Though Satine had, on many occasions, in their longstanding friendship, argued the point that she could take care of herself, she squeezed his hand tightly in response. This time she would not be debating the necessity of remaining close.
“Ooh! Fine place to take out a date,” A sarcastic vendor in a very bulky trenchcoat sneered at them as they passed.
“Long way from Hogwarts ain’t’cha,” The woman next to him with long dagger shaped nails holding a small squirming sack commented.
“I bet I have something she’d just die to wear,” Said a street jeweler, who stood posted in front of the tattoo parlor, his teeth brown and decaying.
Both he and Satine were smart enough to ignore them as they made their way further down the alley. A painful screech startled Satine from just down a rickety walkway that descended into darkness. Obi-Wan didn’t have to look that way to know it led towards the White Wyvern. A far cry from the Three Broomsticks or the Leaky Cauldron, the White Wyvern was more of a front to crimelords rather than an actual eating or drinking establishment. You could technically get a drink there, but even his father never returned inebriated from his visits.
A shadowy figure emerged, cloaked by dark robes, before vanishing into nothing as they apparated somewhere else within the blink of an eye. The paranoia in Obi-Wan told him that it could have been someone he knew, because everyone in Knockturn Alley tended to exist in anonymity. He brushed off that uneasy thought and steered them towards their destination.
Borgin and Burkes towered easily above the other small hovels in the area, being the only store to not also have live-in accommodations on the top floor. The light that poured out of it was oddly warm in the otherwise cold alley, but it didn’t make the shop seem any kinder. Skulls sat in the window, definitely human, and the door let out a scream as they entered. It was dusty and despite the many candles burning in every corner, it still seemed dark. Obi-Wan carefully scooted them around the severed hand that was slowly dragging its way across the floor and made it up to the counter where most of the jewelry sat under lock and key.
Satine, despite being in an environment completely new to her, kept her eyes trained forward. She was good at feigning neutrality to all of this, even though he knew he’d be hearing an ear full about those human skulls and the dismembered hand.
“Look who we have ‘ere,” Obi-Wan nimbly moved his hand before it could be pinned to the counter by the shopkeeper's cane, “The Kenobi’s runaway heir.”
“I haven’t done any running, Aloysius,” Obi-Wan’s old pureblood mask may be quite cracked by this point, but it still slid onto his face easily, “I am a Kenobi.”
“A Kenobi with a- friend ,” Aloysius cackled as he eyed Satine. He’d clearly meant to say something else, but thought better of it. The man was in the line of keeping his customers happy and himself alive after all, “Well Mr. Kenobi , to what do I owe your divine presence?”
“Last time I was in here you had a necklace, silver chain with a swirling blue gemstone,” He described, he wasn’t sure Aloysius knew what it was really for and he wasn’t planning on spelling it out for him.
“Well I do sell a lot of, eh, fine jewelry,” The man was looking up at him with a sinner’s smile, “You’re not looking for your friend here are you?”
“Why I’m looking is of no concern to you,” Obi-Wan replied before Satine could add her two cents in, “Do you have it or not?”
“I’ll have to look and see,” Aloysius stepped back and made his way towards the back room, “Lots could fit such a description.”
“He’s not the real Aloysius is he?” Satine whispered after the old wizard had disappeared around the counter.
“No,” Obi-Wan looked around, “In Knockturn Alley, few are bold enough to use their true names or some only use such names here.”
It didn’t take long for Aloysius to come back with a fist full of silver and blue stones, Obi-Wan was still careful to only lift them by magic or the tip of his wand. Many items in this shop were cursed after all, and he certainly didn’t want the chance of his eyeballs melting out of his skull or anything. All the pieces were quite ornate, but the one Obi-Wan remembered was simple. He’d seen it during an errand, only for a moment and matched it with the picture he’d seen in the textbook.
Soul stones were rare, and for good reason. Legend stated that if one had one in their possession they could potentially trap one’s spirit inside. Sometimes that’s why the colors swirled around when you weren’t looking. Only fragments had remained after someone tore the store room at the Department of Mysteries to shreds, all in private collections. Of course they had, in the past, been used for much simpler protection charms, still he’d want to do some research into the thing if he found it. Carrying around a lost soul probably wasn’t exactly lucky-
“This is the one,” Obi-Wan’s memories mirrored the find. It looked much the same, blue with a subtle white swirl. He set it down on the counter and muttered a few high level curse detection charms over it. Aloysius sat back and observed, this was likely common practice here. The only difference was Obi-Wan was quite hoping the thing wouldn’t be cursed and that likely wasn’t the same of most customers. Rather luckily, it came back clean.
“A shame,” Aloysius shrugged, “Could put a good delusion curse on something that simple.”
“I’ll take it as is thanks,” Obi-Wan was hesitant to let the old shopkeeper handle the thing again, but he made no moves to alter the product. He simply wrapped it up.
“Now the price for such a thing-” Obi-Wan had already done his research on the subject, tossing a bag of Galleons on the counter. The sound of coins clinking together was enough to have the old man hand over the parcel and rip open the bag, “Oooh hoo hoo! Always a pleasure doing business with a Kenobi!”
“Charmed as always,” Obi-Wan simply tucked the necklace into his robes and hurried both him and Satine out the door.
“Oh and Obi-Wan,” The sound of his name caused him to screech to a halt and look the old man in the eyes, “Tell your parents I said hello.”
His grin was wicked and golden- a myriad of fake teeth within his wrinkled mouth. Not wanting to bother sticking around for any further discussion, Obi-Wan gently pushed Satine through the front door and back into the street.
“I’ve read about those,” Satine hissed under her breath to Obi-Wan as they hurried through the streets, “Not much is known about how they work. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“I do,” Obi-Wan kept them in the shadows as a large man in a trenchcoat slunk by. He slowed them to a stop, having a nagging feeling that they were being watched. This was not uncommon here, but the knowing look in Aloysius’ eyes was still unnerving. “When worn they have sort of a protective energy-”
“And they can also trap people’s spirits somehow,” Satine argued, “Though no one’s sure how, the stories passed down through word of mouth say they create an echo of the person.”
“Those stories are so old we can’t even be sure of their accuracy,” Obi-Wan shrugged, “Still I plan on doing a bit more research before being willing to try it.”
“But that attack on the Department of Mysteries happened fairly recently, only 20 or so years ago,” Satine hummed, “There must be something to it.”
Before either of them had a chance to continue, there was a crack of someone apparating down the street, which really wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary except it was followed by several more. Obi-Wan felt himself step in front of Satine, grabbing her hand again.
“Satine, run!”
“I’m not going anywhere without you,” She insisted, so he dragged her by the hand in the opposite direction, running as fast as their legs could carry them. Unsurprisingly, they didn’t get very far, finding themselves surrounded by a hodgepodge of masked witches and wizards. All dressed in black with wands drawn.
“And there she is!” A voice right near them caused Obi-Wan to spin around, “You’ve got a pretty bounty out for you right now, girl.”
Bounty hunters. Here. For them.
“You’ve got the wrong person,” Satine, despite the grip on his hand, looked strong, firm in her assertion.
“Nawh we don’t,” Obi-Wan drew his wand and pointed it straight at them, “Because they said the pretty blonde girl would be with you , Kenobi.”
“Now, now, I’m sure we can sort this out like dignified human beings,” Obi-Wan said slowly, eyeing the scene that was unfolding before them, “Is it money that you want? Because I’ve got plenty of it.”
“We’re well taken care of, thank you for asking,” A woman to Satine’s right cackled, “Well, we will be, once we turn in our prize.”
“Yeah, you can move aside, Kenobi, we ain’t here for you.” A pot bellied man said.
“That won’t be happening,” Obi-Wan said, “I’m giving you all one last chance-”
They all started squawking at that, finding it utterly hilarious to boot.
“Predictable to the last,” The original witch taunted while wagging her wand back and forth, “Didn’t anyone ever tell you children not to play in the dark?”
“My parents seemed to skip over that lesson,” Obi-Wan quipped, his heart beating out of his chest as he made to redirect a curse fired from behind them. Suddenly, a stun spell was hurtled from Satine’s own wand at the witch who had gotten their attention first.
Obi-Wan didn’t waste any time blocking a few spells quickly as Satine mirrored him from behind, their backs touching and offering the only assurance that the other was okay. Obi-Wan shot a disarming spell the first chance he got, sending one of their wands up onto the roof of Borgin and Burkes. Growling, the wizard instead tried to lunge at them, but quickly caught a jelly leg jinx from Satine’s wand before she went back to steadily throwing up shields of magic around them.
Their leader was a man with scaly green feet, who very nearly got the jump on them from an aerial attack. Of all things, he sent an Anima Concidit curse spiraling towards Satine- a curse that intended to shatter her spirit by sending her into a fit of insanity.
Another wizard had his arm by the wrist, keeping him from raising his wand. So, Obi-Wan did the only thing he could think to do and held the newly purchased necklace above Satine’s head, capturing the spell and turning the stone a light lavender, all the while firing off a disarming charm at another witch. Then, as though marinating within the stone, the spell shot backwards and knocked their attacker completely off balance and unconscious on the street with a thud.
“It worked!” Satine remarked as they turned, assessing the remainder of their enemies.
“I had hoped to try that much later,” He sighed, shoving off a man that tried to gouge his eye out with a hook. “Though I’m not sure that’s what I thought it would do.”
For a magical duel in which they were quite outnumbered, it got surprisingly easier to work beside Satine until the very last wizard fell from a well sent Petrificus Totalus from his own wand.
Obi-Wan stepped over him, before rummaging in his pockets until a fist closed on a piece of finely pressed parchment. He didn’t need to read the letter to know what it likely held, the Kenobi crest was emblazoned on the outside of it.
He pocketed it as evidence and hurried back to where Satine was quite eager to grab him and drag them both from the dark streets to the highly contrasted bright sunny Diagon Alley.
Although Satine had handled herself quite nicely during the quick attack in Knockturn Alley, she was still rather hesitant to pocket her wand. Ben looked similarly wary as he kept glancing over his shoulder. In times past she would have scoffed at the mere suggestion of an attack in Diagon Alley in broad daylight, but after everything with Dooku it wasn’t completely out of the question.
“Was that from your-” She asked tensely.
“-Yeah,” He answered, not even needing to let her finish to know who she was referring to. Normally, she’d fill to the brim with anger that his parents were up to their dirty tricks and had even upped the ante, but she was too relieved that they’d made it out in one piece.
“How did they know you were going to buy that necklace?” She asked, referring to the silver chain still grasped tightly in his palm. He shoved it in his pocket away from any prying eyes, his jaw clenched.
“I don’t think that they did, specifically,” He said, “Otherwise, why not just curse it?”
“And you didn’t tell anyone else you’d be here?” She pressed.
“Besides Yoda, no.” He asserted, “But they knew I would be here, somehow.”
“And sent the whole motley crew,” She commented.
Still, as her heartbeat started slowing and her pace became much less tense the further they strayed towards the sunlight, she felt she was in the clear enough to finally slow to a stop. Ben must not have had the same thought because he ran right into her. She turned to appraise him, she hadn’t gotten hurt, and it seemed he hadn’t either. The only thing out of place was one strand of hair that had fallen out of its perfectly manicured style. She reached up and tucked it into place easily.
“So sorry about that,” His voice was a hushed whisper and his face was still a bit pale and unreadable.
“Well I did stop quite suddenly,” Satine lied as she brushed her own hair back from her face, “You wouldn’t have known.”
“No, not about that,” He shook his head, “About them .”
“Ben, it’s really nothing to worry about,” She tried waving them past this, but he grasped her hand gently. His hands held hers like they were porcelain and would break if he weren’t careful. She huffed, “Do you find me incapable?” She asked, eyebrows raised in a careful look.
“What-?” He spluttered, “Of course not, you’re top of our class.”
“And I do believe I held myself quite well back there don’t you?” She prompted.
“Well yes of course,” He glanced behind him warily, “But you really shouldn’t have had to-”
“I think I made it very clear,” She twisted her hand in order to grip his with a tad more force than necessary, “That I wanted you ,” His ears turned a bit red, “And I knew what I was signing up for. Not just because you spelled it out for me, the entire time I’ve known you. But because I’ve done my own research too. Trust me.”
“But Satine-” He tried cutting in, clearly to put himself back up on the stake to be burned. Still she could tell by the way he was no longer holding her hand like glass that she’d gotten through to him, if only a little.
“I know you’re scared for me,” She used her free hand to delicately fiddle with the collar of his shirt, “But you needn’t be. I may be a pacifist, but I’m still going to defend myself.”
“And you are brilliant,” He conceded, but she knew he’d never really stop worrying.
She leaned up and let her lips brush his cheek, “We’re done with carrying things alone, we’re in this together okay?”
“Alright,” He smiled and she turned to look around. They’d ended up in front of the ice cream shop and Satine suppressed a grin.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” She said in a mock angry voice, “I seem to recall you offering me an ice cream when we were here for your wand.”
“Of course I haven’t forgotten!” He let go of her hand and instead gestured for her to take his arm, which she did gladly, “Right this way to the finest ice cream money can buy, my lady.”
“Somehow I think you’d say such things about all ice cream,” She teased.
“Well, I’ve never had a flavor I had quite a distaste for,” He smiled brightly this time, “Not like Every Flavor Beans. Now there’s a sweet I don’t always fancy-”
“-That’s because they aren’t all sweet,” She tried hiding her smile behind her hand, but it was a rather futile effort given the way he sighed dramatically.
“That’s not true, sometimes ‘sweets’ can be more than their name,” He defended quite passionately, she was sure he’d have gone on if he hadn’t caught her laughing, “Hey! It’s true!”
“I know,” She let her head rest against his shoulder for just a moment, before he pulled open the door for them, “You’re just cute sometimes,” She admitted quite plainly and she could practically see the red bloom across his cheeks.
“Only sometimes hmm?” He tried to look unimpressed, but she’d still caught him off guard.
“Sometimes you’re quite stupid,” She shrugged.
“Although that’s still somehow charming in its own right.” She thought to herself, though she’d managed to catch it before she inflated his ego too much.
“You’re always cute,” She felt her heart pick up its pace again as she looked up to see him very carefully admiring the menu in front of him, but he still shot a glance at her betraying his honesty. She turned her attention quite sharply to the flavors in front of them.
Obi-Wan hadn’t been indecisive about sweets since their third year, when he suddenly found himself alone in a sweets shop with no parental judgment . That showcased itself every time he was set to order something, he always knew exactly what he wanted.
In this case he ordered orange marmalade soft serve without a second guess. Satine went with a simple raspberry and chocolate situation. She made sure however, to steal a lick of his and offer her own even if it was simply to start a debate about who had chosen the superior option.
Though in a debate about sweets, Ben was hardly the person to challenge.
“It’s getting a bit late,” They’d finished their cones ages ago and instead had found themselves simply taking up time together on a bench near Gringotts.
“It’s not even dinner yet,” Satine, despite all the rules that flooded her head, found herself scrambling for more time alone with him, “We could still visit a few more shops,” She looked around.
“Satine-”
“Or are you quite certain you’ve gotten all you need here?” She prompted, “One necklace is all we’re going back with?”
“Satine-”
“Maybe Screed and Son’s might have something we hadn’t considered yet-”
“Satine!” Ben covered her hand with his, “We can’t stay here forever, we do need to get back before Yoda comes after us himself.”
That would be rather embarrassing.
She sighed looking at their hands, “I know,” She tried to stand, to prepare for apparition, but Ben’s hand held her in place.
He caught her eyes with his, “We’ll do this again,” He promised, “I’d like to do this again, if you would too?” He amended.
“I suppose we will have time to come back,” She was about to turn her head and get a good look around, but he caught her face with his hand.
“I don’t think time will be a problem for us anymore, for me,” He smiled and she leaned forward, her arms wrapping around his neck and her mouth slotting against his own. He broke away a moment later giving a wary glance around, “What if we’re still being watched?”
“Damn them all to hell,” Satine growled before she finally had him convinced to sink into this moment. For once they were together, doing a normal couple thing. No watchful eyes or accidental interruptions. For just a few precious seconds they were alone together in time.
And if they were being watched, Satine hoped they liked the show. It wasn’t like they didn’t know who she was, who she was to Obi-Wan . They knew, she knew, everyone knew. But most importantly, Obi-Wan himself knew. Pulling away from her to catch his breath, red faced and starry eyed. A waking dream every time she realized that they were together, and that they would never be forced apart again.
“So, have you decided how you’re going to make up with Obi-Wan yet?” Padmé asked in a sing-song kind of voice when she joined Anakin at breakfast. In tow, of course, was the line of lookalikes that always followed near. Judging by the look of disapproval Sabé was giving him, he would guess they knew what was going on.
“No, and do you need to be so loud about that?” Anakin sighed, “He could hear you.”
“And this problem would be solved,” Padmé said as she buttered a piece of toast with a bit more intent than normal. Anakin knew he was dragging his feet on this, especially after hearing about the attack that Obi-Wan and Satine endured at Diagon Alley. He truly didn’t know how to broach the subject.
“Maybe I’ll just pen him a letter.” He said with a shrug, but the bagel he was about to eat was snatched clean from his hands moments before touching his lips, depriving him of the jelly goodness he’d slathered on it. Instead, after his teeth clacked together, all he had was the sharp look Padmé was giving him. “What?”
“That’s hardly personal,” She sighed, dropping the bagel down on her plate rather than returning it- a quite cruel thing if there weren't always bounties of food in front of them. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to get to consume any of it until he gave her an answer she approved of.
“Yeah, why not just look up a template and copy that?” Sabé added tactly.
“Originality is key to an apology, Skywalker.” Yané said.
“Hey, you might not think so, but Obi-Wan saves every single letter he receives! He loves that stuff!” He waved his fork around, “I bet he’d frame it.”
“Is that what you really think or is that what you want to believe?” Rabé snarked.
“Can’t it be both?” He asked a bit helplessly. On a good day, he might be able to convince Padmé, but he didn’t stand a chance against all of the girls.
“It can, but something tells me you would just rather take the easy way out,” Padmé said, “Even though I can tell just looking at you that you know that’s wrong.”
“How can you tell that? The primary feeling I’m experiencing now is how hungry I am,” He retorted and was surprised that she didn’t jab a challenging fork into the breakfast ham he’d already made a move for with his own.
“Whatever you say,” Eirtaé sang in a similar tune Padmé had opened with.
“I’ll tell him, I promise,” He insisted and stole a glance over towards Ravenclaw’s table. Obi-Wan did look quite happy and well off on his own, especially as he traded playful barbs with Satine. The two of them were practically sparkling as they looked at one another.
“In this lifetime or the next?” Padmé asked with crossed arms.
“Hopefully this one, especially with how someone’s trying to kill the guy,” He said, though none of the girls seemed amused by his joke. To be honest, it was far from his best work.
Still, he was practically overcome with relief when Rex entered the scene, dripping wet and shivering, but looked to be warmed by the obvious anger that painted his face.
“What happened to you?” Anakin found the change of subject gracefully and it seemed that Padmé and her friends had also naturally shifted at the sight of Rex’s woe.
“Pong Krell happened,” He said angrily as he slammed his backpack down on the stone floor. Judging by the splat it made upon impact, Anakin could assume that the bag and the books inside were also wet.
“What did that snake-faced prat do to you this time?” Anakin frowned, throwing one leg over the bench to face his best friend and also to prepare for any action that needed to be taken. Though Krell and some of the more troublesome Durmstrang kids were hardly inhibited by their Headmaster’s presence, the rate of pranks and bullying had only increased since Ziro’s absence.
There wasn’t even the idle threat of expulsion or detention to keep them in line these days.
“He messed up the toilets in the boy’s bathroom on the third floor, is what he did.” He grumbled as he wrung out his robe onto the floor.
“So you’re covered in…” Anakin wrinkled his nose and looked at Padmé, who wore a similar expression.
“-Clean water, thank you,” Rex raged. “And he did it just because Ninety-Nine was making his daily rounds on them. If I hadn’t gotten there first, this would have been him.”
“We should tell Headmaster Yoda,” Padmé said, but Rex shook his head.
“It won’t do any good,” He said, “He’s got enough on his plate fighting with the Minister about the Civil War that’s about to start.”
“It doesn’t sound very civil to me,” Anakin said and then clenched a fist, “Well, if Yoda won’t do anything, then we’re just going to have to lay down the law. As promised.”
“Finally,” Rex sighed, “I’ve been waiting to get back at these Durmstrang blokes all year.”
“Hey, if my friend gets doused in toilet water, we both do,” Anakin said and then paused, “Well, not literally, because gross, but spiritually, I’m covered too.”
“I get the sentiment, thanks,” Rex said, “What do we do?”
“We give them a taste of their own medicine,” Anakin smiled. “I’ve had a prank I’ve been meaning to pull on Gunray that could use a bit of practice.”
“Excellent,” Rex fist bumped him.
When Padmé didn’t object, both boys turned to her to find that she was merely listening rather than threatening to report them for taking matters in their own hands. She didn’t even look angry, just accepting that this was going to happen with or without her approval.
“What?” She asked.
“This is usually the part where you threaten to tell Satine or one of the other prefects.” Anakin shrugged, “The silence is a new reaction.”
“You make me sound like such a narc,” She rolled her eyes, “I have never been against rebelling against a broken system. And without someone here to enforce the rules for the Durmstrang kids, that’s what this is.”
“So, you’ll help?” Rex asked.
“I didn’t say that,” She laughed and shook her head, “You two are definitely going to get yourselves in big trouble.”
“Why do you say that?” Anakin complained.
“No offense, Anakin, but trouble tends to follow you like a hawk.”
In all honesty, Anakin couldn’t argue with her there.
“Having the Minister come visit, we are.” Yoda said as he paced across the room slowly, his little cane clicking the floor with consistency as he went. While he didn’t look tense or strained, he also didn’t appear his usual serendipitous self that day. Windu could hardly blame him. The Headmaster had been working rather tirelessly at figuring out a solution to their predicament with the Hutt’s.
“Is this about proving Tahl and Ninety-Nine’s innocence?” Shaak Ti asked.
“Indeed,” Yoda nodded sagely, “Know about his arrival, the rest of the school cannot. Discrete, this meeting will be.”
“Surely Professor Gunray would want to know,” Palpatine said.
Only the heads of houses were present, thankfully, which meant that Windu was spared from having to hear Gunray’s panicky dribble over the situation. No one wanted a war on their side, even if the Ministry’s office might believe that they did. However, Gunray had started to break out into an ugly purple rash from the stress of it all. It was a bit too much if you asked Windu.
“You’ll hear no complaints from me,” He said. It wasn’t a surprise that he wasn’t fond of Valorum’s pet. His sole intention was to get their administration in trouble, which made him a sneak. Windu hated sneaks.
“Want to appear biased on the case, Valorum does not.” Yoda clarified.
“We’d hate to see him actually choose a side for a change,” Muttered Shaak Ti with crossed arms and then remembering herself, sighed, “Apologies. It’s unprofessional to discuss politics in this setting.”
“Everything is politics right now, my dear.” Palpatine sighed wistfully, “I’m afraid that politics were dropped on our front door the moment Valorum insisted that Professor Gunray arrive. It was a very curious choice, I must admit.”
“Yes it was,” Windu said darkly, “One that I’m sure at the end of the year will result in some people losing their jobs. Especially after that mess with the Hutts. You’ve seen the papers! They’re making it look like we started that fight and that we’re covering for kidnappers.”
“The Hutts have never been honest,” Tahl spoke finally, her voice as calm as a tepid stream and just as cool. Though it was her name on the line, she hardly appeared stressed. There were rumors swirling around that Tahl got headaches that allowed her to have premonitions, not unlike Sifo Dyas’ claims. However, Tahl was a lot less eccentric about her condition than the Divination professor.
“You needn’t be when you have a criminal empire,” Palpatine offered, “It is a bit odd that we are so determined to remain close allies amongst them.”
“The Hutts are very powerful,” Tahl said, “Odd or not, they dwarf us in numbers and they know of magical properties that we cannot dream of. Ancient spells that can cause generations of damage. They are rich and they’re impossible to hold off forever. Trust me, you do not want war with the Hutts.”
She spoke with such conviction that Windu could only believe that Tahl had come in very close negative contact with the Hutts during her days of exploration. Part of him wondered what had happened to lead her to such confidence on the matter, but the other part of him knew what it was like to chase demons and just what could be found when you encountered true evil.
And sometimes, it didn’t take magic to be evil.
“So, what do we do?” Shaak Ti asked.
“The best thing we can do is find Rotta’s actual kidnapper.” She said, “That is the only way to fully exonerate me in their eyes. Even if the Ministry deems Ninety-Nine and I innocent, that will hardly stop Jabba from sending an assassin.”
“Apparently, there’s already one in circulation,” Shaak Ti said, “We’ve all seen the papers with that hooded figure leering about. The one who set fire to that muggle village.”
“And burned the Sith emblem in the snow.” Palpatine said with a helpless shrug. “At least, I believe that’s what that was. I’m not well versed on such logos.”
“It was,” Windu confirmed, his mouth tight, “But I doubt that was just any mercenary. The Sith have never been known to be petty kills for hire.”
“Getting ahead of ourselves, we are,” Yoda confirmed, “Convince the Minister first, we must. Go from there, we will.”
“Do we have enough to convince the Minister?” Palpatine asked.
“Leave that to me, you will.” Yoda said, “Keep Gunray occupied, you all must.”
“Good, because who knows what sort of word vomit he would unload in the name of saving his own skin.” Windu said, “I don’t trust him.”
“I think it’s safe to say none of us do,” Tahl said.
“Well, well, well, look what the tooka drug in,” Hondo kicked his dirty boots up on the desk in the makeshift office he’d cultivated for himself in an old potion’s closet. He’d set up his place of operations earlier in the year, claiming he was too overrun with business and bets to simply be mobile any more. He needed a place to set up shop. The idea had originally inspired Anakin to yearn for such a place to hide away from it all.
That is, until he actually visited.
The only reason no one had ever busted him for having it was because it suffered a mutated rat infestation from an ongoing sewage leak. The only lighting was from a single dim torch that never got any brighter and cast the damp closet in a green glow that fit Slytherin’s usual aesthetic. It smelled like one would suspect: like sewage, as well as though it were doused in a hefty cologne on top of it.
Broken bottles and some supplies still lingered, though the rusty shelves were mostly covered with Hondo’s belongings. Pranks were labeled in boxes and he had binders full of bets and orders that needed to come in. There was even a box that said “Schemes” which Anakin felt should have been kept under more hidden pretenses.
Then again, no one willingly came across the closet.
Unaware if he was putting up the tough guy act for theatrics, Anakin and Rex gave the seventh year Weequay equally puzzled expressions.
“They always come crawling back to Hondo,” Hondo said through a sigh. He threw a toothpick onto the ground near an empty waste paper bin. He crossed his arms over his wrinkled button up. One could only guess where his tie ever managed to go, but Hondo wasn’t a stranger to the other houses either, often swapping out ties in an effort to sneak into locations that were meant to be forbidden to him.
“What are you talking about?” Anakin asked.
“You say you never need Hondo ever again, double-cross me, and do me dirty! But Hondo is the only bookie in the game, boys! The only bookie with the reputation to get the job done.” He said, flexing his fingers with each statement, as though this would make it resonate even further.
“We never did any of that to you!” Anakin furrowed his brow. “In fact, I let you profit off of my name! I’m the one who never got paid.”
“Then… Why is Hondo not making money?”
“Because Anakin isn’t worth anything right now,” Rex said bluntly, “He lost the second task, remember?”
“Thanks, Rex,” Anakin rolled his eyes.
“Well, it’s the truth! It’s not my fault he forgot!”
Instantly, Hondo’s mobster demeanor dropped, as did the smug look on his face. He kicked his feet down from the desk and let them hit the floor with a plop . A shit eating grin bloomed across wrinkled brown lips and he stretched his arms out.
“Forgot? Hondo is like an elephant! He never forgets! Hondo was just playing tricks on you for laughs.”
With that, he gave a very hearty and very inauthentic laugh that told both boys that Hondo had, indeed, forgotten.
“Wait, so this whole time, you’ve been avoiding us?” Anakin asked.
“Did you notice that Hondo was avoiding you?” Hondo asked.
“No?”
“Then of course not! What can Hondo do for you?”
“Are we sure about this?” Rex muttered, turning them both around so they weren’t facing the pirate.
“Do you have any better ideas?” Anakin whispered back.
“Yeah, let’s just do whatever we have to do ourselves! Why would we rope in someone that we can’t even trust to remember who he’s supposed to be mad at?”
“Because no one’s been scouting out this school more than Hondo this year! He sees everything, including whatever Krell has been up to.” Anakin said, “Plus, Hondo doesn’t like Krell either.”
“He doesn’t!” Hondo cheered, “And er… Hondo can still hear you, my friends. This fortress, while perfectly isolated and decorated, is not the most spacious for separate conversations.”
They turned around, bumping into each other a bit in the process, “We need to know what you know about Krell and what he’s been getting up to.”
“I know what he’s been getting up to,” Rex crossed his arms, “Harassing my brother.”
“Okay, yeah, but we need a way to stop him,” Anakin said, “And preferably without professor intervention. They’ve got enough going on with the whole Jabba wanting to kill us all.”
“Boys, when has Hondo ever involved the professors?” Hondo snorted, leaning on the back wall of his office. To his right, a line of mysterious sludge leaked down the wall, almost touching Hondo. He didn’t seem the least bit bothered.
“That’s a good point,” Anakin said encouragingly, facing Rex, “Look, we need a way to show Krell that we’re not going to take his bullying lying down and we aren’t little first years that he can stomp on anymore.”
“And that he needs to stay the hell away from Ninety-Nine.” Rex added.
“Krell is picking on the groundskeeper?” Hondo exclaimed and then seemed to think about that for a moment, almost showing disappointment, “Talk about falling from grace. Is he going to steal candy from babies next?”
“So, you’ll help?” Anakin asked.
“Of course, Hondo is always here to help… For a very reasonable and generous price. The friends and family discount, as always.”
Did Hondo say that to everyone? Most likely, but Anakin didn’t exactly have a ton of resources these days. He’d been quite busy with the tasks and unable to make his own rounds of mischief as he normally used to. Hondo was presently the eyes and ears of Hogwarts, whether anyone wanted that to be the case or not.
“What do you want, Hondo?” Rex sighed, seeming resigned that this was how they were going to have to do things. “We haven’t got any money.”
“Not much. Hondo has plenty of money,” Hondo began to file his mud-caked nails passively, “But there are other means of payment that can suit Hondo.”
“And what would that be?” Anakin asked.
“You see, Hondo had something stolen from him many moons ago, back when he was just a boy, something he does not want to leave Hogwarts without.”
“For the sneakiest guy in school, why do you need two third years to go after it?” Rex asked suspiciously.
“If Hondo gets caught retrieving this item for himself, Hondo could risk not graduating.”
“I’d also like to graduate someday,” Anakin said.
“But it would be meaningless to you,” Hondo insisted, “An act of tomfoolery at the most. If Hondo is seen doing it, Hondo will be investigated.”
“What is that we’re stealing back for you?” Rex asked.
“So many questions, wow,” Hondo took a seat again, though it was obvious to both of them that was visibly a bit nervous about something, probably debating just what information he should share with them regarding this rescue mission, “It is more of a who than a what , actually.”
“Obi-Wan, I’ve got good news for you,” Professor Mundi said as he entered the back room of the Magical Creatures office, where the nursery was occupied. It was most surprising to Obi-Wan that Professor Tahl walked alongside him. It was only Mundi’s large pointed head that stood as the only thing making him taller than the Music professor.
“What’s that, Professors?” He turned from tending to Jane. She’d grown quite a bit this past month and was getting antsy. He noticed that her hind legs had become exponentially stronger as well, meaning that the time for her release might have been coming sooner than he thought.
“Since the choir of toads performed so well, Professor Tahl wants to implement the musical soundings of some of our other lovely creatures,” Mundi went on, stroking his wispy goatee with pale fingers, “And you may just be the perfect person for the job.”
“I’m not much of a singer,” He joked half-heartedly, even if he knew what they were getting at. It seemed the trend of pretending as though there wasn’t a crisis ongoing outside the school walls was a continuous practice. Tahl’s face remained neutral, completely unbothered by the accusations against her. His mother had attempted to send him many an owl about it- all of which he promptly ignored.
Obi-Wan would be more frustrated by this, if it weren’t a precedent for the previous two years as well. At least in this case, the danger remained mostly outside of the castle.
“Well, that’s quite alright,” Mundi chuckled, even if it was more to keep the conversation going, “Because it will be the Monkey-Lizards that she is most interested in.”
“The Monkey-Lizards?” Obi-Wan frowned, casting a glance to a gated burrow in the wall. It wasn’t as though he didn’t like Kowakians, but they were far from graceful or pretty sounding creatures. In fact, their screeches were known to make the other animals cry to such a degree, that their gate was charmed to be soundproof.
“They are big hits with the Hutts,” Tahl clarified in a smooth and understanding voice.
“Ah, I see,” Obi-Wan nodded, “Jabba did have one back at the er-event.”
“Indeed, he did.” She said, “Apparently, it’s one of the few creatures he won’t eat.”
Touching, as always, that Jabba.
“Is this to be a prelude for the final task?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Yes, we were thinking that,” She said, clasping her hands tightly behind her back, “Assuming they still choose to attend.”
“As far as I’m aware, they are,” Mundi said haughtily.
“Yes, yes.” She said, “They wouldn’t dare appear as cowards.”
“They’d be sectioned off, anyway” Professor Mundi said, a bit nervous about this line of conversation happening in front of Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan didn’t see how it was avoidable, though, considering he was literally one of the participants in the tournament AND was their chosen trainer for the monkeys. “But what do you say, Obi-Wan? I know I’m never the sort to offer extra credit, but considering the circumstances, we could really use it to impress the wizarding world.”
He really didn’t see how the colorful Kowakian Monkey-Lizards would do that. There were only two of them, presently: Pilf and Pikk. They were brothers, supposedly, though upon much studying, Obi-Wan found them to be nothing alike and had even questioned his professor regarding this. Professor Mundi said that both Pikk and Pilf arrived at the same time, from a drunken Russian man in a pub near Liverpool. Both adjusted differently with Pikk growing accustom to his home over time and Pilf becoming more aggressive.
Pikk’s skin was scalier and while his torso and face were a bright yellow, his limbs and extremities were all a neon blue that resembled paint splotches. Temperament wise, Pikk was certainly the people-pleaser of the duo and was overall more relaxed.
Meanwhile, Pilf matched his vibrant red skin with a temper that resulted in dragon-skin gloves being required for handling him. Obi-Wan had suffered a mean gash earlier in the year when the mischievous monkey tried to get out.
Neither were particularly pretty, but Pilf always looked like he had a stick up his little arse, and hissed whenever anyone would walk. If it weren’t for the fact that both creatures would die if they were released, Obi-Wan was certain this would have already happened.
They weren’t technically designed for England’s temperament, much preferring the cold and not fond of the summer, which meant they always needed a temperature controlled area when the seasons began to change. Both had genetic dispositions that supposedly prevented them from being able to climb or run, thus signing their own fates in the wild.
Following his sight to the two monkeys, Tahl chuckled, “They aren’t the prettiest, but I do believe that their natural voices will go well with the arrangement I’ve chosen. Are you sure you’re up for the task?”
Obi-Wan was a bit nervous for what that sounded like. He wondered if a muffling spell might do.
“You see, Obi-Wan is my most skilled handler, unsurprisingly,” Mundi boasted, “I find that often the animals respond better to him than to me.”
“I wouldn’t say that, sir,” Obi-Wan blushed.
“I would,” Mundi squawked and made his rounds, nodding approvingly that all creatures were cleaned and fed, “If he weren’t so set on being an Auror, I’d say he’d be an excellent creatures specialist. It would be foolish to ask anyone else.”
“If you have the time, that is, Obi-Wan,” Tahl spoke up encouragingly, appearing unsure for the first time since he’d met her. She was not the sort of woman to be unsteady about her place in a room. She stood tall and dominating, even if she didn’t always jump to speak. She was careful and calculating, but not conniving, as any Ravenclaw should be.
Was she hesitant to talk to him?
He hadn’t spoken much to Tahl since the incident on the train and while they had been wary of her intentions afterwards, her determination to keep Rotta safe and for quickly defending Satine before the Hutts had earned her a place of trust in his eyes. A part of him actually felt guilty for not acquainting himself more to her.
It was just that he wasn’t sure if he was ready to hear more about Qui-Gon or to talk about him. He knew that was the subject they both danced around each time they were in each other’s company. It was the same reason he didn’t take Muggle Studies again or why he often avoided research into prophecies.
And with each passing day, he was beginning to realize how short sighted that was.
Yes, as he looked into Jane’s soulful brown eyes, he knew that the time to let go was dawning upon him. Perhaps, it symbolized more ways than one.
“Oh, no, of course I have time.” He babbled, even if he could already hear the tired rant Satine would surely give him later about stretching himself too thin. “I have loads of time.”
Neither particularly seemed sold on that last fib, because how could the Head Boy/prefect/champion really have that much time on his hands? He barely had time to see his friends as it were.
“Excellent,” Mundi didn’t seem pressed to ask, though, “I shall leave you to it, then. At this rate, that should be enough to bring you back up to the top, Obi-Wan.”
Well, that would be a decent bartering chip for Satine, even if she didn’t want him running himself ragged for the title. He didn’t see how it would be responsible to allow someone else the opportunity. They might get their hand bitten off by Pilf if given the chance.
“I must thank you for keeping this visit under wraps, Headmaster,” Valorum said, clasping his hands behind his back as they walked through the empty back hallways that alternatively led to Yoda’s office. Apparating meant loosening some of the crucial security charms in place to prevent any of the Hutts from sending them any surprise guests. They’d already received enough dead rats and frogs in the mail to go around.
It was disgusting, especially since Yoda preferred how they tasted fresh.
“Pleasure it is, Minister.” Yoda guessed that Minister Valorum already knew the way to Yoda’s office. Having once been a prefect long ago, he certainly had to memorize all the different ways to reach the Headmaster.
“It is quite interesting to actually traverse the tunnels that gave you all such trouble last year. Have you had the same level of curiosity this year?”
“Normalized, they have been,” Yoda said with a shrug, “And patrolled.”
“Ah, see, we do agree on some things,” Valorum smiled, “Let me know if you wish to have some members of my personal guard present. The more eyes, the better.”
“The right eyes,” Yoda corrected, trying not to sound standoffish as he did, but it was true. Quantity was nearly meaningless when compared to quality. Yoda much preferred having allies he trusted ensuring the safety of his students than the extra outside view of the ministry weighing in and dragging down progress.
“Yes, of course,” He agreed, not catching the tone in Yoda’s voice, “But in politics, there isn't always a right and a wrong. There is… Ambiguity.”
“Politician, I am not,” Yoda said and left out that his very reasoning for avoiding the path was for that merging of morals that he couldn’t stomach. As an educator, who was meant to influence the lives of children, there was very little room for gray intentions. Gray intentions, he found, were often wrong.
“No, and for that, I respect you,” Valorum chuckled, “I often wonder how different my life would have been if I’d pursued a different direction. I’d probably sleep a bit better.”
“Dictates our level of peace, our conscience does,” Yoda said wisely, “Clear your thoughts and focus on the present, you must. Struggle with this, you always have.”
“Have you not kept your own eyes and ears straight ahead?” Valorum asked, “Is that not why you’ve been warning me all along?”
Once the door to his office shut, Yoda spared no time, “A coincidence this kidnapping was not.”
“Another thing we agree on, I’m afraid,” He helped himself to the tea that had already been set out for them, though he didn’t take a seat. Instead, he stared hard at the fire, his pale blue eyes lost in the haze of the flames.
“Innocent, my staff is,” Yoda insisted.
“Hm,” Valorum made a vague sound from the back of his throat as he took a tentative sip from his tea, “Is that enough?”
“Minister?” He asked slowly.
“Do you remember what you said to me the day I graduated?” Valorum redirected, his eyes shooting up from where they stared at the fire and onto Yoda. He looked so old- so much older than he actually was, even in the eyes, which in Yoda’s experience, usually preserved a man’s youth. At least an element of it.
No, Valorum looked rather haggard now that he thought about it. His hair had thinned to nearly nothing, whether from pulling it out or from the testaments of time. His eyebrows, always thick and full of personality, had even withered down and gone white. The wrinkles on his face made him resemble a fossil of frowns- telling a story that didn’t speak of a happy ending.
He was drowning in his dark purple robes. He didn’t even know when the man had last consumed a full and hearty meal. He was slouched and weak, almost sick looking. His cheeks were hollow and his lips were thin and fine.
This was not a man who found the wisdom of peace. No, he scarcely rested at all by the looks of him.
And yet, it wasn’t any of the exhaustion that simply aged him, but the hardened expression of a man that had seen the deepest vestiges of darkness and saw no escape.
If he thought back to brighter times, Yoda remembered a man of charisma and of charming nature. He recalled that Valorum used to be able to talk anyone out of conflict, out of trouble, and defend those who could not defend themselves. He was always kind and always giving. His main intention had always been to help people.
In fact, when he’d decided to go into politics, Yoda had believed they were on track to having the first truly decent Minister of Magic. Not that this was not the case, but something had happened in these past few years. He’d grown hard and distant, no longer writing Yoda for advice or reaching out to check on everyone. He’d once sent a holiday card every year with his entire family pictured and happy.
A divorce had put an end to that, yes, but what had put an end to the marriage to begin with?
“Do you?” He pressed, as though Yoda had forgotten.
He hadn’t. He’d never forget that day. Valorum’s eyes had glittered under the blue confetti that shot around the graduating class. Ravenclaw had taken the cup that year and he had been Head Boy, unsurprisingly.
“Done with the pretense of brightening the light, everything should be. True to that purpose, keep your intentions. Accountable, you must hold your actions. To yourself, you must always be true. Then, worth doing, anything is.”
“And do you think I have kept to that word?” Valorum asked.
“Ask yourself, you must.” Yoda said.
“I have, many times, most recently.” He said rigidly, “But somewhere along the way, I got greedy. Not from wealth, but from approval. I tried to please everyone. I still try to please everyone.”
“Do this, you cannot.”
“Believe me, I’ve learned that the hard way.” Valorum swore. “Many times over. And despite it all, I still find myself caring what everyone will think of me when everything inevitably gets out. It’s like my image is all that’s left of me and I hate it. I wish I could go back and change everything.”
“Ethical and possible, this is not.” Yoda said, “Bothering you, something is.”
“The Sith,” He said quietly, just above a whisper, “They’ve… They’ve gotten out of hand. They’re in every corner and they’re loud .”
He scrubbed a hand over his hand, wiping away any sweat that gathered there with a finely pressed handkerchief. He began to breathe a bit shallow before he finally found the words he wanted to say.
“I don’t know what to do any more,” He sighed, “We can’t go to war, Yoda. We can’t.”
“Reported, this has not been,” Yoda said.
“Because the very last thing we need is for this image of mass hysteria to ensue.” He countered nervously. “That I allowed this to happen. I cannot appear weak, or else those siding with the Sith will come running.”
“ We or you need?” Yoda asked finally.
Valorum made hard eye contact with him, challenging this thought and truly pondering it. He’d never been the sort to brush anything under the rug, which is why his hesitancy to approach the subject of the Sith had always been suspicious. His willingness to lean into the desires of his administration had also been disheartening.
“I assure you, I do not like being a pushover,” He said, reading Yoda’s thoughts. “And I certainly do not appreciate being viewed as one, but you do not understand what I’ve endured behind closed doors. It’s a careful balance that keeps our democracy intact. One that with this trouble with the Hutts and the surge of Dooku’s cronies, is only falling more to the wayside. People I thought supported me… I know no longer know who to trust.”
“Trust me, you can.”
“That’s why I’m here,” He nodded soberly, swallowing heavily, “And I’m sorry I haven’t spoken so candidly to you in a very long time. It’s been… Well, things are changing. I am receiving pressure from all sides on this matter in ways I never thought I would.”
“The Hutts?”
“Oh, yes, of course,” He sat down, “You’re right, someone wants to divide us. I know that for certain now.”
“How?”
“Because one of… Them approached me in the dead of the night. He was like a dementor, especially in the sense that there didn’t appear to be a trace of humanity left in him. It was as though he’d been emptied dry of any and all remorse.”
Yoda didn’t answer, he waited.
Slowly, Valorum lifted the hem of his sleeve and rolled it up, revealing a long and jagged wound that couldn’t have been older than a couple of weeks. It was shaped into the emblem that had been burned into many buildings and streets this past year. An ugly sun- red and pointed, even filled in with crude strokes.
“Who-” Yoda fought for his response to this, because he couldn’t truly believe what was happening. “Valorum-”
“I’m alright,” He covered it up as quickly as he’d revealed it, “But I’d been threatened into silence. Or else my children and my ex wife will meet an even worse fate.”
“Silence over what?” Yoda asked.
Valorum hardened, “Over who is with Dooku and who isn’t.”
He let that simmer for a moment and before Yoda could comment what he really wanted to, what they both knew he wanted to, Valorum shook his head ruefully.
“I’m sorry,” He said painfully and it was then that Yoda believed him. “I’m so sorry but I cannot tell you. Call it another act of selfishness or greed, but I cannot allow any harm to come to my kids. And I’ve failed them. I’ve failed everyone.”
And with that, he fell to his knees and broke down crying.
Yoda could only watch for a moment. He didn’t know where to take this conversation, but for the first time in decades, this was not a conversation between colleagues or even those who had opposite beliefs. Instantly, they were back to student and teacher and Yoda intended on showing him that same level of support.
He placed a hand on his shoulder, stirring him from the sobs that racked through his body.
“Too late, it is not,” Yoda said, “To let the light in.”
He thought about that, swallowing down his tears whether it be out of a desperate reach of decorum or because this actually inspired him. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, “Will you help me fix this?”
“Yes. Start with the Hutts, we will.”
“And another thing, if you promise not to tell anyone, you have to make sure that Obi-Wan is the one to win the final task.” Valorum said weakly. “You have to. For Anakin. If he is indeed to save us all.”
“What are you two little nose pickers up to?” Cody teased as he caught Rex and Anakin scurrying down the hallway like they were in the middle of an espionage epic, complete with dressing all in black and looking over their shoulders as they ducked around corners and corridors.
“Shh! We’re busy!” Anakin shut it down immediately and stuck his head out to check if the coast was clear. Obviously, they weren’t doing that good of a job, considering Cody was able to spot them immediately.
“Doing what?” He kept his normal volume since this was absolutely nothing more than just theatrics.
“None of your business!” Rex fired, “Now go away!”
“Did you two get your U-No-Poo taken away from you again?” He asked, “Because sheesh, you’re both in a mood.”
“Because we’re trying not to get caught, Cody,” Anakin said through tight teeth.
“By who? The ghosts? No one’s in that classroom. If that’s what you’re gunning for.” He said simply.
“How do you know?”
“Kenobi just locked everything up.” Cody said, “He was talking all about his next project with Professor Tahl.”
“No way, that’s impossible! We haven’t seen anyone come out this door!” Rex insisted. “And we’ve been standing here for an hour.”
“Because there’s another door down the hall, junior,” He laughed, taking this opportunity to tuck Rex’s head in between his bicep and forearm to give him a proper noogie. “Maybe, next time do a bit more scouting before performing your big boy spy mission.”
“The map didn’t make that very clear,” Anakin grumbled.
“You mean when you had it.” He said.
“Exactly.”
“So, what are you stealing?”
“We’re not stealing,” Rex said.
“Yeah, it’s more of a liberation than anything.” Anakin said.
“That’s a big word,” Cody teased.
“It was on the word calendar Obi-Wan got me,” Anakin said and then frowned, likely because he and Obi-Wan were still not in good graces with each other. He supposed it couldn’t be all bad if he was still using the gift he’d been given, especially if it was a learning gift. “Er… Promise me you won’t tell him about this.”
“If I don’t know, I can’t say,” Cody laughed, “Just don’t touch the bunny and all should be well.”
“What would we want with a bunny?” Anakin scoffed. “We’re saving a person, not a bunny.”
“Okay, then fair enough,” Cody shrugged, “But you think Professor Mundi kidnapped a person and has been holding them hostage in his classroom?”
“Well, we’ve never taken the class, so we really couldn’t say.” Rex pointed out, “But it seems like a good place to start.”
“Whatever, you know what? I am going to leave you to this. Why, you may ask? Because the last time you brought home a pet, we almost got expelled and Ninety-Nine is still in hot water over it.” Cody reasoned with the wave of a hand, “And I’m really not sure I can watch this one.”
“If that’s what helps you sleep at night, fine,” Anakin said, “You’d only get in our way anyway.”
“I would not!”
“You are literally standing in our way,” Rex sighed, straightening, and gave Cody a pleading look that used to be used when asking for extra cookies after dinner. It was one that Cody would be remiss to say didn’t occasionally work.
“Fine,” Cody sighed, “I’ll stand guard, but if I see any funny business, I’m calling Kenobi.”
“You’ll see!” Anakin grinned, which usually meant that he was up to something he wasn’t supposed to be involved in. With that, the two third years scattered like marbles in opposite directions, racing to hide behind different ledges and doorways, dramatically looking each way as though this truly was a top secret mission. Cody would have laughed if their dedication hadn’t been so intense. Anakin even rolled on the floor at one point to get low and peek in, stretching out a little omniscope for a better view.
He gave Rex a signal, which consisted of tapping on the loose stone at the center of the hall three times before Rex tentatively walked through the corridor and pushed open the door.
“I gotta get me one of those scopes,” Cody chuckled.
“I think he keeps the animals in the back,” Anakin said and then frowned. Despite what Cody had mentioned and what he, himself, had remembered when talking to Obi-Wan about the Magical Creatures classroom, there wasn’t a back office in sight. It was strange, because it looked like any old classroom save for several posters and tapestries with creature diagrams hanging everywhere.
There was an empty birdcage at the front of the room, with a few stray white feathers at the bottom indicating that there had once been a bird in there of some sort.
“I guess this makes sense,” Rex shrugged, “It’d be a bit too easy if he just left the pets out for all to play with. You know some of these creatures have been known to take people’s arms off?”
“If the Zillo Beast didn’t take off my arm, nothing will,” Anakin said as he rushed over to the bookshelf in the corner, “Come on, you know how this works. There’s got to be a secret entrance somewhere.”
“We’ve got to be quick,” Rex said, “I heard Professor Mundi usually takes his lunch to go.”
“You’re telling me, I also would like to eat lunch today,” Anakin said, but even with every book he slid off the shelf, he couldn’t activate an entrance of any kind. When he looked closer at the wall, there was no indication that something would have to slide or be pushed for access.
“Alohomora,” Anakin said, waving his wand with little success.
“You need an actual lock for that to work,” He said.
“Maybe it’s charmed how Platform 9 ¾ is,” Rex suggested.
“You’re saying I should try running through the wall?” Anakin asked, though his disbelief didn’t last too long. After all, magic did have the tendency to be rather strange. So, with that, he dropped his own bag to the side and backed up to the farthest wall, dropped into a starting position, and took off.
However, where the transition to Platform 9 ¾ always felt a bit like your body became fluid as it mended and separated from the density of the stone, Anakin just smacked head first against it, colliding and falling backwards on his bum. It occurred with such force that the wall shook and behind it, they could hear a shriek cry that had to be one of the creatures from the other side.
“Well, at least you proved that there’s got to be a way to get in there.” Rex said.
“Yeah, are you spinning?” Anakin rubbed his head. Surely, a bump would appear at a later time. He’d have to write it off as being quidditch related somehow.
“No, but your nose is bleeding,” Rex commented before taking greater interest in the empty birdcage to his right. “Maybe it’s a password?”
“Lets write some possible options on the chalkboard.” Anakin suggested as he climbed to his feet, a bit off balance at first from his head still feeling rattled.
“That’s strange, he hasn’t got any chalk.”
“I always carry some with me,” Anakin dug in his robe pocket and only paused when he received scrutiny from Rex, “So, I like to draw on the sidewalks? Sue me!”
“Don’t your robes get dusty?”
“It’s called washing them, Rex!”
“Anyway, you know there’s going to be a big difference between any passwords cultivated by Kenobi vs Mundi.”
“True,” Snorted Anakin as he raised the stick of chalk to write “I love Satine” on the board.
“That’d be pretty weird for Mundi to say each- hey! That’s insane!” Rex pointed over towards the board and Anakin grimaced.
“Yeah, my handwriting isn’t the best, I’m working on it.” He said.
“No, you dolt, look at the letter o!” Rex said excitedly, and sure enough, when Anakin took a step back, the o in love appeared like a little hole or window, allowing them to see straight through the wall and to the other side. A bit of orange light shined through and if he stood closer, he could peer in to see several habitats stretched across the room. Some were aquatic, others were desert, and some were meant to be like grasslands.
“Bloody brilliant that is,” He said and then used the eraser to cause it to vanish altogether.
“Draw a larger one!” Rex said.
“Duh!” Anakin said and drew a large circle with a circumference that nearly touched the perimeter of the board. Sure enough, an entryway to the back room had formed right before their eyes.
“I gotta say, that is pretty wicked,” Anakin grinned, “Come on!”
Both boys stepped through to the other side, looking all around them in brief awe before acting like the professionals they were and getting right down to business.
“I really hope Hondo is right about this,” Rex said, “Otherwise, this is going to be super awkward to explain.”
“We’re not explaining anything! We are going to be long gone by the time this gets out.” Anakin said and immediately located the tank of Kowakian Lizard-Monkeys. Before immediately moving to use the pry-o-pliars that Hondo had allowed him to borrow (after demonstrating how they could snap through even enchanted chains of metal), Anakin leaned in and looked at the tank.
“I feel like they’re going to maul my face off,” He said, turning to Rex, but only to find him a good two steps back.
“And like… Which one is which, again?”
“The labels are pretty faded,” Anakin said, “He did say that he was red, so I’m going to go with this one.”
“But if you cut the chain, both will be freed.”
“And they’ll be thankful for it… I hope.” Anakin said, “But just in case, maybe we should just bring Hondo the box.”
“The whole tank?”
“Yeah, I mean, then Hondo can just free them,” Anakin said with a shrug.
“That… Might be the smartest idea you have ever had,” Rex said thoughtfully, “Better him than us, right?”
“I mean, this is his family’s pet.” He said, “Help me lift.”
So, Rex bent over to the other side and helped Anakin lift the very large tank of rattling Monkey-Lizards, and haul them down through the exit that appeared before their very eyes.
“Cody was right, there was another exit.” Rex murmured. “Should we fill the hole on our way back?”
“Mundi will be back soon, we don’t have time,” Anakin said, “Come on.”
It wasn’t as heavy as they’d imagined, though it was still a struggle for the two of them for a prolonged period of time.
It didn’t help that their cargo was anything but silent.
“We’re not going to be able to keep this up for long,” Rex grunted, “Everyone’s going to be back from lunch soon.”
“Yeah, and it looks like our guard dog ditched us,” Anakin shook his head, “I bet he thought we wouldn’t have been able to get through the other side.”
“To be fair, if you weren’t weird and carried around chalk, we wouldn’t have.”
“Do wizards not do sidewalk chalk?”
“No? Why would we do that?”
“It’s fun!” Anakin hissed. “Come on, let’s store the monkeys in this closet and then go get Hond-OH. The Minister!”
“Wha-?” But before Rex could ask, Anakin opened the nearest broom closet with his foot and used any added momentum to tossed the tank of monkeys inside. It hit with a crash, which he slammed the door shut in response to. It was good that he did, because immediately, they began rattling, screeching, and scratching against the door.
“Why did you-”
“The Minster of Magic!” Anakin hissed as he pointed down the hall.
Sure enough, Yoda and Minister Valorum walked hurriedly away from a secret entrance that had appeared before them, looking around and trying to remain covert. Both had serious and resolute expressions painted on their faces, neither wanting to give anything away.
There hadn’t been any word of a ministry visit on campus. What were they trying to hide?
“They’re going the opposite way! I don’t think they heard the Kowakians.” Rex said.
“I don’t think they care,” Anakin said slowly and then he began to think about all the other things that the ministry didn’t care about. It was unsettling, how the person that could feasibly give him the answers he so desperately needed, walked about the school like there weren’t more pressing matters at hand.
“Where are you going? We have to get Hondo!” Rex grunted, as he used his whole body weight to keep the broom closet door shut. Beneath it, sharp claws hooked into the wood.
Anakin looked back at Rex and then at the Minister, finding himself stepping in the opposite direction of his friend.
“I’m sorry, Rex, but I’ve got to talk to him,” Anakin said, guilt flashing across his face. “But this might be my only shot to talk to him… If I don’t win the tournament…”
And then, Rex also seemed to have a greater understanding of the situation, because while this mission had been important to him and his family, at least at the end of the day, he still had his family. Anakin, on the other hand, only had dead ends and unanswered letters.
“Go, I’ll hold them off.” He said.
“Glad we were able to slip you in unnoticed, I am,” Yoda said.
“And I’m glad I chose to come to you, Headmaster,” Valorum said, “I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye and you believe I don’t trust you, but I do. I just need to make sure I’m covering all bases.”
“Understand this, I do.” Yoda smiled, “Work together to fix this, we will.”
“I believe that,” Valorum smiled, “Who knows? Perhaps, we can once again work together as allies.”
“Appreciate that I-”
“-MINISTER VALORUM!” A loud voice echoed off the halls.
They had been so close.
He thought they’d been a bit too close when he heard some muffled animal noises, but had attributed that to passing Professor Mundi’s office. Obi-Wan had been working quite closely with the injured creatures during his limited spare time.
“Go, you should,” Yoda urged him and accessed the tunnel that would lead Valorum down through Hogsmeade to the Three Broomsticks. From there, he would be able to utilize the Floo system or apparate back into the comforts of his own office. Normally, Yoda wasn’t in the business of sneaking around, but under these circumstances, when Valorum had been both vulnerable and informative, he knew that it was important to keep this visit under wraps.
However, Anakin Skywalker was not the sort who was easy to escape and judging by the wild look in Valorum’s eyes that could only describe panic, Yoda could see that he was thrown off by the boy. After all, they’d discussed at length the importance of Anakin Skywalker and how his being in the tournament had been at the hand of the Sith.
This would not be good. He didn’t need Anakin to be privy to such things, especially if he suspects they would consider working against him in the tournament. He didn’t need his ego crushed into the dirt, even if his ego could get a bit swollen at times.
He was just a boy and the things that the Sith wanted him for made Yoda’s blood boil.
He had to get Valorum away before he cracked, just as he had in Yoda’s office. The minister was not stable and still looked as though a soft breeze would knock him over. Whatever Anakin wanted to discuss, surely regarding the tournament or what was going on with the Hutt’s, would only add more to his burden.
“Minister, wait!” Anakin said once in range, breathing heavily.
“Skywalker, out of lunch you should not be.” Yoda said. “Very busy, the Minister is.”
“I know, I know,” He extended out a hand but looked desperately to Valorum, who already had one foot stepped within the entryway to the tunnel, “But I’ve been trying to reach him all year about my mother.”
Yoda felt his heart sag. No, of course that would be the first thing on Anakin’s mind. The boy had lost a great deal within only the span of a year. He couldn’t blame him for his insistence.
And while Valorum had been busy, it seemed rather thoughtless not to at least tell the boy what was going on. Yoda hadn’t even been allowed to know how the investigation was going and he’d asked on several different occasions.
“Your mother?” Valorum asked.
“Yes,” Anakin said.
“Have we spoken about this in the past?”
“I’ve written you a million letters and even tried to reach you at the press conferences, but you keep… Missing me, I guess. But she’s been missing for more than a year now and I don’t know what to do.”
“Ah yes, right, your mother…” He narrowed his eyes, “I’m having a bit of a day.”
“Have you found anything?” Enthusiasm and determination for all to be set right by this conversation sparkled behind his eyes, “I’ve got a few leads of my own that I could share.”
“What was her name again?”
“Minister.” Yoda turned to him, eyes wide. The entire wizarding world had known of Shmi Skywalker’s disappearance. Whether or not they believed foul play to be involved was a whole other thing, but the association of Anakin meant that it had gone through every news circulation. Even the pureblood papers were well versed on the bare details of the subject.
“You don’t even know her name?” Anakin fired, the hope that had been present when he’d first approached them instantly snuffed. “She’s been missing for a year and I’ve written you how many times and you don’t know her name ?”
“Apologies, my dear boy, but I do have a fair few missing person’s cases with all these Sith attacks occurring.”
“They’re people, not subjects!” Anakin snapped, stepping away with eyes narrowed, “Do you even want to find her?”
“Anakin, sure I am that Minister Valorum means no offense,” Yoda said, “Visiting under unprecedented circumstances, he is.”
“I don’t care!” Anakin protested. “I want my mother back!”
“Of course,” Yoda gently placed a hand on his shoulder, to which Anakin shook off.
“It’s more of the Auror department rather than me-” Valorum said.
“-Which you’re in charge of.” Anakin said and turned to Yoda, “You told me we’d find out what was going on! You promised someone would know! Well, if the guy who runs everything doesn’t even care about knowing her name, how is she supposed to ever be found?”
“But of course I care-”
“-Then why haven’t you or anyone from your office bothered to look into it?” Anakin asked.
“They have, I’m sure,” He said, “We’ve got a lot going on.”
“You have a lot going on? I’m the one being threatened left and right!”
“I understand and we are looking-”
“-Into it, sure.” Anakin shook his head.
“Well, you see… These things are often more complicated than what the scope of a child could understand…” Valorum babbled, making matters even worse for himself.
“Oh, believe me, I understand,” Anakin said, going cold. “You won’t even bother to learn her name, because finding her isn’t as important as chumming it up with the stupid Hutt’s or stopping by to have tea and cookies with Yoda.”
“Now listen here,” Valorum grew defensive, but Yoda stepped in.
“Deserve to know the truth, this boy does,” He said, because he could not go on to hear Valorum belittle (whether intentionally or not) the boy any more, not when he’d been through more than most in such a short period. “Look into this, you should.”
“I swear to you, it will go to the top of my list,” Valorum said.
“I won’t hold my breath,” Anakin said, eyes glazed and before he turned to take his leave, pointed at him, “And her name is Shmi Skywalker, by the way. Don’t you forget it. I certainly never will.”
“Shmi Skywalker.” He repeated quietly, but not loud enough for Anakin to hear it. “I will absolutely touch base with my team, Yoda. I just… I wasn’t expecting to run into the boy is all. He is quite spirited.”
“Beautiful, the spirit and trust of a child are,” Yoda said, “Betray that, you do not want to.”
“No, of course not. I’d hate for him to develop any hate for the Ministry over this. This whole thing only works if one trusts their government.”
“Indeed,” Yoda said, considering that as the Minister of Magic stepped slowly into the tunnel and walked at a casual pace down towards Hogsmeade. Yoda only watched him go until he was enveloped by the distance and shut the entrance behind him.
By the time Anakin reunited with Rex, he was covered in little scratches that looked like he’d been in a physical game of rock, paper, scissors, and was promptly being reamed out by Professor Mundi in front of the broom closet.
“This total whim of careless and reckless abandon was for what, Mr. Fett?” Professor Mundi scolded, “Because it better be good, seeing as you are going to be spending a good amount of time in detention for it.”
“What happened?” Anakin asked, his fury over the situation with the useless Minister Valorum fading only to deal with the immediate predicament.
“Move along, Mr. Skywalker. I am choosing to ignore the fact that you should be at lunch along with my suspicions of your involvement, only because Rex has already insisted it was only he responsible for releasing the Kowakian Lizard-Monkey.”
“Charming,” Mundi narrowed his small blue eyes at him before turning back to Rex, “What do you have to say for yourself, young man?”
“I was doing it for…” Rex seemed to think about that and remembered the sob story Hondo had told them about the monkey being his family’s long lost pet that was claimed when he got to Hogwarts. Whether or not that was true, Rex probably didn’t want Hondo to get held back and be on his bad side for however long it took him to graduate. “I did it to get back at… Krell.”
“Pong Krell? He doesn’t even go to this school anymore.” He said.
They would have their time to get back at Krell later, when Hondo was hopefully reunited with his precious pet. It was better to at least put it on the professor’s trail not to trust Krell in the event that he decided to start using some magical creatures as warfare.
“He’s been bullying his brother!” Anakin inserted himself into the narrative. “And he’s afraid of these little dudes, I guess. Right, Rex?”
“Right.” Rex said. “He’s not able to do anything about it so someone has to.”
“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way,” A different voice said from behind them.
Anakin and Rex turned in horror to find none other than Ninety-Nine standing there, mop and bucket in hand.
“Ninety-Nine, hold on,” Rex started, but the eldest Fett was not having it. While normally genial and understanding, his face was hard and his mouth in a straight line that didn’t suit him. Anakin didn’t even know what to say in response to the utter disappointment on his face.
“-No, I won’t,” He said, “Because just because I’m not partaking in the foolish games of children, doesn’t make me incapable.”
“I didn’t mean-”
“-You did, Rex.” He laughed a little at the end, shaking his head and looking at the mop in his hand, “You might not think what I do is important or that I can’t take care of myself, but you’re wrong. I don’t need you to protect me and I’m not sure how many times I have to say that before it sets in.”
“But Krell-”
“I don’t care about Krell!” Ninety-Nine raised his voice, “He can never get me if what he does never gets to me. And I thought you were smarter than that.”
“He was just trying to help,” Anakin added unhelpfully.
“And now look at this mess!” he gestured to the pellets and slobber that the monkeys had left in their wake. It was pretty gross and wouldn’t take too long for them to find the other if he kept leaving a trail of waste. “You have been impulsive and selfish! Stop making this issue with Krell about me, because I’m fine. I’m sorry you think I’m pathetic, but I am proud of where I am.”
He looked at Rex one last time before leaving, “And I thought you were too.”
They both watched him go, Professor Mundi also seeming a bit uncomfortable by this change in dialogue. There was no real way he would understand the backstory of it all, but Anakin clasped a hand on Rex’s shoulder, causing him to wince in pain.
“These creatures are not to be used in little schoolyard spats, my boy. No, these creatures can do dastardly things if left alone. You’re lucky only one escaped. You could have single handedly ruined our attempt at making peace with the Hutt’s.”
“Huh?” Anakin asked.
“Why are you still here, Mr. Skywalker?” Mundi asked.
“I’m making sure Rex is alright, he probably needs to go to the hospital wing.”
And quite possibly family therapy after all of this, but that was a later issue.
“Indeed,” Mundi said, “Be grateful you walked away with only a few cuts and scrapes. They’ve been known to go for the eyes. You can escort him, Anakin, but only because I need to now look high and low for Pilf.”
With that, they were ushered off towards Madame Nema and Anakin waited until they were about halfway there to speak.
“Why did you take the full fall?” He asked, “I was just as involved as you are!”
“Because it’s my family, mate,” Rex said tightly, “You were only doing it to help me. Besides, Ninety-Nine was right. I was being selfish.”
“Yeah, but how many times have you helped me through the years?” Anakin shook his head, “We’ll get him, I swear.”
“I’m more concerned about Ninety-Nine talking to me again,” Rex said, “Do you think I was wrong for stepping in?”
“We thought Cody was good for stepping in when he bullied you,” Anakin offered, “But then again, Cody is your older brother. I guess that would be a bit different. I dunno, mate, I’ve always believed in protecting what’s yours.”
But then, Anakin remembered how affronted he’d been by Obi-Wan’s insistence to help him this entire year, “But while the intention might be good, maybe you have to listen to what Ninety-Nine wants.”
They walked a bit in silence and Anakin realized he could see where Ninety-nine was coming from more than he cared to admit. However, when it came down to it, if his life was at risk, he wouldn’t blame Rex for stepping in either.
“At least Pilf escaped,” Rex shuddered, “He was a scary bastard. The other one didn’t even bite or scratch.”
“Sounds like he definitely belongs to the Ohnaka’s.” Anakin said. “I hope he finds his way back to him.”
“How was your talk with the Minister?” Rex asked.
“Palpatine was right about him,” Anakin muttered, “You can’t trust politicians.”
“So, not good, I take it,” Rex said.
“No, not good at all,” Anakin said in a dark voice, “I don’t think any of them really care about finding her. They don’t see it as their problem.”
“That doesn’t make any sense though,” Rex said, “Why brush it off? Especially if Dooku is possibly involved.”
“That’s what I’m wondering.”
“Pilf!” Hondo cheered gleefully as the Kowakian monkey-lizard came bounding towards him like the little ball of flames he tended to be. He’d somehow gotten even more feral looking than he had previously when he lived at the Ohnaka estate. Hondo hadn’t seen him in years since he’d smuggled him into school during his second year. It had taken approximately three weeks for Professor Mundi to find out that he’d been hiding him, especially after that poor prefect lost her ear due to Pilf’s ravenous nature.
Until that point, they’d had a decent run.
“Hondo has missed you so much!”
In all fairness, the earrings he delivered were priceless heirlooms, even when coated in someone else’s blood. Hondo had done the right thing and given one of them back to the girl.
It wasn’t like she had much use for two earrings from then on. That was a bit of a touchy subject, of course, and she hadn’t taken to Hondo’s sense of humor.
Mundi believed that he was a runaway Kowakian that had legitimately escaped the building and was surprised that he’d grown quite so violent.
From then, he’d been claimed as a member of the magical creatures class, and had taken out the most eyes and tongues of any subject to date. It was an honor not many could uphold. The other Kowakian was horrible to deal with by the looks of it. He hardly even tried to rob anyone he came across.
The shame of it all!
So, it was fitting that the moment Pilf found Hondo, he flung his little angry body into the air and opened his mouth wide, prepared to take whatever he could from Hondo. That didn’t mean that Hondo was the sort to go down easily.
“Hey, now Pilf! We’re family!” Hondo explained as he leapt out of the way.
Family that he did admittedly turn into a Kowakian Lizard-Monkey in order to climb around and steal valuable artifacts from the school so he could sell them on the black market with his mother.
It succeeded in the beginning, except until Hondo couldn’t figure out how to turn him back into a Weequay. Transfiguration was never his strongest point, especially not as a wee second year. They hadn’t gotten that far yet, naturally, and it had really been Pilf that had done it to himself, since he was seven years Hondo’s senior.
Come to think of it, that plan was not well thought out in the slightest.
“No hard feelings, eh? We’ll get you back right as- ow! Okay, someone’s teeth have gotten very sharp these past few years!” Hondo yelped as he threw a book to try and deflect the little monkey-lizard. Pilf hissed and Hondo groaned, “Do that again and I’m telling mother!”
If Kowakians could breathe fire, it was very possible he would have done that right then and there, instead, he just leapt right for Hondo’s locs, using them as leverage to climb up and attack his head.
“Yes, she’s missed you! Did I tell her you were lost at sea to get myself out of trouble? No, of course not! We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
It was a lie, but a necessary one. Hondo truly did believe Pilf capable of murder as it were right now.
The shriek he let out could have caused anyone to go deaf and Hondo still felt a ringing after. It was this that knocked him off his balance and into the shelf behind him, collectively sending all the delicate trinkets to the floor, breaking all around him. Pilf pounced, crawling around him and scraping everywhere he could have access to.
“I’m sure we can work something out! You can have half my cut for the year! Ow! Okay, three quarters! Ouch! I am not going above 80%, you greedy little furball!”
It was good to be reunited with family, no less. Hondo had missed having a brother, after all and he was starting to get a bit jealous of how much time Pilf was spending with that other stupid little creature.
A black gloved hand rose into the air, clenched around the deluminator that dispelled all light from the street, thrumming silently when all was absorbed. When Diagon Alley was properly doused in an identical darkness to that of the sole figure that stood at its heart, it welcomed another from almost nowhere.
The footprints in the snow would be the only proof of their presence this evening, even if many fires had been struck ablaze the past few months, fires that the Daily Prophet avoided covering. They couldn’t ignore them for much longer. They were growing far stronger than the average eye could see and if plans continued working properly in their direction, it would only be a matter of time before they seized power and control.
There were just a few matters that hindered their success. A few crucial pieces that would need to dissolve just as the snowflakes did beneath their boots. They would burn them down as they had villages and they would embed their mark into the eyes and minds of unbelievers.
Neither of the nearly identical cloaked phantoms spoke, not until they were properly secluded within the comforting confines of Knockturn Alley. Even when completely absent of light, Diagon Alley still shared the stars and the moon- a power that the Sith hadn’t yet been able to rival just yet.
Some day they would be the sun, and snuff out every other beacon of light in the sky.
It was too late for even Knockturn Alley to have many inhabitants. A fair few rats scurried out of their path as they drifted across from Borgin and Burkes. The only light that guided their way was the faint glow that emanated off the skulls in the window. Either way, these patrons knew their way quite well to the White Wyvern.
Their heavy boots had favorable traction, preventing them from slicking on the pavement, even if they hadn’t been charmed to melt ice on contact. They trotted down the back alley steps, rounding appropriate corners and paying zero mind to the beggars in the street. Foul and insolent beings such as they belonged in St. Mungo’s asylum and nowhere else. Instead, they were tainting their streets.
If they hadn’t presently had more pressing matters, Tyranus might have removed them.
The side door was always open to those who were unwelcome everywhere else, that was how the enchantment worked. Those who did not belong met an unspeakable fate. Rumors swirled around that the rat infestation was a direct result of this.
They found their usual booth with ease, removing their winter layers and helping themselves to a bottle of scotch that rested perfectly within reach on the bar. It was as though it was waiting for them and as far as Tyranus knew, it likely was. He poured them each an even glass, not asking his compatriot if he wanted it on the rocks or neat, and walked it over to their table.
“How did your meeting go?” He asked as he sat.
“How do you think?” His associate sat unmoving even when the glass was placed on the table. It wasn’t until Tyranus reached for his own and raised the deluminator to release all of the light back into the sky, igniting the single bulb above them, that he was able to read the challenging look on Minister Valorum’s wrinkled face.
“They bought it?” Tyranus asked.
He reached a gloved hand up and slowly peeled off the withered and painfully neutral facade that made up Minister Valorum, and revealed the smiling man beneath it.
Rael Aveross.
“I think they might have,” He said, twirling the now rubbery and fake looking pile of skin around, letting it flop in the waste bin unceremoniously. When not stretched across Rael’s face, it looked like nothing more than a Halloween mask. Because Tyranus had dedicated his life to the dark arts in one way or another- whether it was combatting it or pursuing it, he’d always been mystified by the concept of a Personatus.
Many had heard of those who could transfigure themselves into animals- the animagi. These, while a complicated practice to undertake, had no inherent darkness present. The personatus took this concept and could not only transform themselves to match other people as a polyjuice would allow, but any person, so long as they wore something that belonged to them.
It was not something one trained to be, but something you were born to be.
“Good,” Tyranus said, reaching out his glass, “Then there is much left to plan, Minister .”
Although Satine had gotten herself and Ben in a fiery debate this morning around whether or not wizards should change their archaic money system, she found her eyes drifting across the table to Cody, who had been surprisingly quiet this morning and instead glaring steadily across the room towards a group of Durmstrang students at the Slytherin table. It wasn’t that she expected him to be invested in whatever inane topic of conversation they got into, but it was pretty rare that he wouldn’t at least throw in a teasing line or two.
“What’s on your mind?” She kicked him under the table, interrupting Ben who was on a passionate lecture on the history of gold. Ben trailed off and although she’d surely have to prompt him to continue later, he seemed to read her thoughts and focused his attention on their friend as well.
“Hmm?” Cody had been long gone in thoughts, now shaken back to the present looking a little lost for a moment.
“You’ve been staring off for ages,” Satine rested her head on her hand, “You didn’t even tease Ben when he started talking about ‘The Origin of Knuts’.”
“Hey-!” Ben glared at her.
“That’s a bit low hanging fruit isn’t it?” Cody shrugged, “So I didn’t make an obvious joke, sue me.”
“Something’s bothering you and if you don’t tell me I’ll just have to find out for myself,” Satine raised an eyebrow, “Which I will, just like I did the last time you were keeping things to yourself.”
“We could make a binder,” Ben perked up, recovering from previous ridicule quickly, “And we’re rather good at sleuthing.”
“One might even say detail-oriented know-it-alls,” Satine added.
Cody rolled his eyes, “Trust me I know. But it’s nothing like that . No need for super sleuthing or whatever it is you two get up to in dim light.”
“You're deflecting pretty badly,” Ben ran his cloth napkin across his fork, polishing it before sticking it in his syrupy pancakes, “And I would know, considering I’ve been pretty good at that over the years.”
“Well,” Cody was hesitating, and he rarely did. He was typically the type to let whatever he wanted fly right off his tongue rather than let his mind catch up to him, “You know we’re only a couple months away from graduating.”
“Are you worried about your NEWTs?” Satine could understand that, she’d had several recent nightmares about forgetting to bring a quill.
“When have I ever worried about a test?” Cody rolled his eyes, even if Satine could have easily answered, ‘Quite a lot for someone who pretends not to.’
“That kind of attitude won’t stop us from holding study sessions,” Satine waved a hand, urging him to continue.
“You know,” Cody said seemingly offhandedly, “Durmstrang thinks their Quidditch team is the best in the world.”
“Well there’s been no way to prove that,” Obi-Wan hummed.
“I know,” Cody’s eyes flickered between them and Durmstrang, “Quinlan’s already been drafted for the Arrows…”
“And it’s only a matter of time before you join him in the professional league,” Satine fixed him with a careful gaze.
“I haven’t heard much from potential recruiters,” Cody winced, “And it’s been a rough year, only one day to play the game? Did any of them even come?”
“I’m certain they would have,” Satine glanced at Ben who gave her a barely noticeable shrug, he wasn’t sure.
“I know I could beat him,” Cody stabbed a fork into his potatoes, “I know I’m just as good.”
“Why not play a game with him?” It was Obi-Wan who said it, though Satine was starting to think the same.
“He’s not allowed to play on the Durmstrang team,” Cody pointed out, “Official Youth Quidditch rules state that, ‘If a student is invited to play with professional leagues either current or promised future they hereby renounce their position on their school’s team’.” He quoted easily.
“But this wouldn’t have to be a real match,” Ben pointed out, “It’s more like… a backyard game.”
“That’s true,” Cody threaded his fingers together in deep thought, before deflating a little, “But I doubt he’d go for it.”
“What do you mean?” Satine frowned.
“I didn’t want to admit it,” Cody looked around carefully as if anyone was bold enough to eavesdrop on them, “But Quinlan’s good, like really good. I’ve watched him practice. Why would he want to play a game with me? ”
“Cody,” Satine reached across the table to put a hand on his wrist and look at him in exasperation, “One doesn’t dedicate their life to playing professional Quidditch if they dislike playing the game. Trust me.”
That thought hadn’t occurred to Cody who suddenly perked up, “Do you think so?”
“Why don’t you just go ask him already?” Ben shook his head pointing at where Quinlan had gotten up and was heading towards the exit.
“Ah quite right!” Cody stood quickly and hurried over to intercept the Durmstrang. Cody had made some sort of bold declaration causing Quinlan, who had been quite dreary lately, to consider Cody as he set his half baked plan into action. Quinlan definitely seemed to slowly gain a little fire in his own stance as he suggested something to which Cody very eagerly shot out a hand which Quinlan shook immediately. Cody raced back over to them grinning widely, a familiar fire warming his gaze.
“Well mates, we’re going to have another tournament on our hands.”
Obi-Wan hadn’t seen much of Cody since just the day before Quinlan had agreed to participate in some sort of tournament. His friend had skipped classes, which was out of the ordinary, and had sent him an owl this morning that dropped off a piece of ripped fabric with nothing more than a classroom number scribbled on it. He should probably be more worried it wasn’t a ransom notice.
Still he politely knocked on the classroom door and when it didn’t open he pushed his way inside into what seemed to be a devastating storm of books and parchment littering the floors and every available flat surface. In the center of it, looking very critically at a chalkboard was his best mate.
“Er, Cody,” He made his presence known as his eyes skimmed past three near identical copies of Quidditch Through the Ages, the only difference between them was a few spelling errors and subsequent corrections. Nonetheless Cody had bought every edition, “You sent for me?”
Cody turned, rubbing his eyes like Obi-Wan had pulled him out of another world entirely, “Kenobi! Mate it’s great to see you, you’re looking quite proper today,” Cody walked over to him stirring a few pieces of crumpled parchment in his wake, “Heard we got back our DADA essays. I bet you got top marks yet again.”
“What is it you want from me Cody?” Obi-Wan tilted his head, “There’s no need for such blatant flattery.”
“Flattery? Psh nooooooo,” Cody laughed it off, but he wasn’t looking in Obi-Wan’s direction, “I care about grades sometimes, yours in particular, I mean weren’t you falling behind?”
“I’m perfectly fine at the moment,” Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, “ You however are beginning to concern me.”
“So maybe I have a tiny little favor to ask,” Cody deflated, “What, I can’t butter you up first? Shoot. Maybe I should have bought some chocolate frogs or something.”
“A favor?” Obi-Wan prompted.
“Well mate, I need a Keeper-” Cody began picking up the book to his left, Best Keepers of the 18th Century .
“Cody, you know I don’t like playing-” Obi-Wan started, trying to be delicate about letting him down, but Cody immediately interrupted.
“Let me finish! Let me finish,” He held out a hand as if that alone would quell his words. Cody turned back to the chalkboard flipping it around to the other side where there was a list of every Quidditch player in the school written in small handwriting and some scribbled descriptions next to them. Many were scratched through, but Obi-Wan’s was circled, “I know you hate Quidditch.”
“Hate’s a bit of a strong word…”
“Even so, you’re the strongest Keeper we have available to us, I need you to win,” Cody pleaded.
Obi-Wan scoffed, “I’m hardly the best Keeper here. You know I won’t be offended by you not choosing me.” Obi-Wan expected that to be it, to let Cody off the hook and his friend would feel relieved about not having to drag his dead weight along. Cody however groaned and ran his hands down his face.
“Mate, would you stop putting yourself down for five minutes,” Cody crossed his arms, “You’ve been starting Keeper on Ravenclaw’s team for seven years.”
“Six and a half actually-”
“You don’t get to start anything no matter how much your parents tried bribing the school,” Cody insisted, “I know we all joke with you a lot, but you can’t seriously think you aren’t a valuable member of Ravenclaw’s team?”
“I’m just following Eeth’s instructions,” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, “I hardly think I’ve done anything particularly involved. What about Slytherin’s Keeper?”
“Faro’s good, but not used to clever plays,” Cody pushed the thought away, “You on the other hand, are clever. You’ve thwarted me several times when I thought you couldn’t see what I was planning.”
“Cody, you talk about Quidditch all the time,” Obi-Wan reminded him, “Of course I can start seeing through you-”
“But I never tell you my plans, not really,” He picked up a piece of parchment, it had arrows drawn all around it, “Remember this?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.
“This was from our last game of course I remember-”
“I saw it,” Cody pointed an accusatory finger his way, “You couldn’t make it in time to stop me, but your eyes saw exactly where you needed to go.”
“Well yes, but-”
“Obi-Wan, mate,” Cody took hold of his shoulders and was looking at him with a level of seriousness he didn’t show much, “I need you on my team. Not because we’re friends, not because of some weird sort of pity you seem to think I have for you, but because you see what others don’t look for.”
Obi-Wan found himself at a crossroads, the world frozen where it was until he made his decision. It would be best to say no, that Cody had the wrong guy, that somewhere in this school would be another Keeper, a better one. But his friend’s focus hadn’t waned from him, for whatever reason or another he had Cody’s full and near professional confidence that he would be a valuable member of his team.
“I suppose I could-” He didn’t get to finish before Cody cheered, catching him in a bone crushing hug that despite the way the breath was squeezed out of him still made him smile.
“Wicked! WICKED!” Cody released him rushing over to his board again and flipping it over, adding Obi-Wan’s name into his already preselected line up, “We’ve got a chance I know it.”
“Of course, you do,” Obi-Wan sat himself on top of a nearby desk, eyes roving over the chalk markings and various eraser marks, “I’m surprised though, why not just use Gryffindor team.”
Cody nodded to himself as he drew an ‘X’ near the goal posts, “Oh, well Quinlan wants to face Hogwarts not Gryffindor. So I told him I’d whip up the best team he’d damn well ever see.”
Obi-Wan frowned, “Wait, that’s… Isn’t that a huge disadvantage for us?” Cody looked at him over his shoulder, a bit of chalk dust smeared across his cheek, “We’ll be playing Durmstrang’s pre established team.”
“And Beauxbatons’ yeah,” Cody added, turning back to his planning.
“Beauxbatons?” Obi-Wan crossed his arms looking to the side of him where a paper, written entirely in french showcased a picture of Hera zooming towards the goal posts in an old Quidditch game, “How many bloody teams are we playing?”
“Just two,” Cody held up two fingers, “Wouldn’t be fair to leave them out.”
“I feel like this is massively skewed against us,” He repeated, “You don’t suppose Quinlan did it because he’d know you’d lose? Does he want to make a fool out of us?”
“No I’m- Well… We won’t lose!” Cody threw down the chalk, not facing Obi-Wan, but he could see the tense pull of his shoulders, “I know what I’m doing, I’m a good captain.”
“Hey. What’s this about?” Obi-Wan slid off the desk, “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone. You’re the best chaser this school has and my biased argument would have you as the best chaser in the world.”
“That’s a little bold,” Cody answered, then after a long minute, “I just… I want what he has, I guess I’m jealous,” He seemed surprised by his own statement.
“And you’ll get there,” Obi-Wan tucked his hands inside the sleeves of his robe for a minute before extending a hand out to pat his friends arm, “But,” He paused just long enough for Cody to look over at him, “If you want to win, we’re going to need to gather the team, because we don’t have very long to prepare.”
Cody stood sternly alongside his recruits. Beauxbatons was to their left and Durmstrang was currently making their way over from the right. Although he felt a little nervous, unsettled, as he watched Quinlan make his way across the field towards them, he did feel confidence in his team. It had been fun, finally getting to run his statistics on his fellow Quidditch players. He loved his own team, but bringing all their strengths together? Well he knew it would be even better.
Picking the chasers was always difficult. Himself of course, and then he’d chosen Aayla and Eeth from Ravenclaw. Aayla would be starting out, she was far more aggressive than Eeth, but the Ravenclaw captain was an amazing strategist. Ferus and Shu Mai from Slytherin were also a good pick. They had a strong ambition for the game, like a Slytherin should. Ferus typically played beater for Slytherin, but he was willing to try something new. Bana from Hufflepuff was quick and sharp and he believed she would be able to match his energy despite the Hufflepuff team’s consistent losses.
His beaters were easy picks. Fives and Echo, both worked spectacularly together of course. Echo had proven himself in their mock matches over the summer to be surprisingly tactical with a bat. Anakin of course, could count himself among the ranks, the local prodigy. Cody had also selected Maris of Hufflepuff who was always determined and had a little more strength than one would expect.
For his seekers he’d asked Breha, the Hufflepuff captain had a keen eye and likely would have been a wonderful seeker if she’d not been delegated to keeper. Bolla Ropal of Ravenclaw had the sharpest eyes at Hogwarts and he’d be brought in if they needed the assist.
That only left the keepers, Obi-Wan of course. Although his friend had never thought himself much for the sport, he really was talented-
Cody frowned, turning to Clovis, his other drafted keeper, “Where’s Kenobi?”
“Said he left something in the locker room,” Clovis shrugged nonchalantly.
Cody cursed quietly under his breath, Obi-Wan better not be late. Not that his friend typically fell into that category, but he always had to hope he hadn’t come across a stray loth cat or something. He had a bad habit of helping out every lost cause that came his way. Although, Cody thought with a wince, that might include him and this silly little Quidditch tournament.
“Alright!” Quinlan crossed his arms over his chest and grinned between the two other teams, “Fine looking teams here!”
“You’re late,” Hera raised an eyebrow, “And I certainly don’t appreciate it,” She was brave for saying so, because Cody had already decided he wasn’t going to bring it up.
“Well I’m here now,” Quinlan shrugged, looking at Cody, “What do you say we get this show on the road?”
Cody nodded, “I’m game.”
“Wonderful,” Hera took out a piece of stark white parchment and lifted her wand, “Mutatio proprietatibus!” The parchment started turning three different colors. She looked to Cody, “Pick one.”
Cody watched it for a moment, as it flickered between red, blue, and yellow, “Red,” He decided on and Quinlan scowled clearly having wanted that one himself.
“I’ll choose yellow,” Quinlan relented.
“Blue,” Hera chose as she let go of the parchment and it fell to the ground. It flickered through colors quickly, so fast Cody could hardly keep track, before stopping finally on a split between blue and yellow, “Alright,” Hera smiled, flicking her wand and sending a gentle burning spell down to the parchment, “Beauxbaton will face off against Durmstrang first. Hogwarts will go against the winner.”
Cody swallowed back disappointment. He didn’t care much for sitting around. He gave a half smile, “Alright we’ll grab a spot in the stands then?” He prompted. Many students had joined them today to watch all three schools there and present in the stands chatting excitedly to themselves. It seemed everyone had missed having a good Quidditch match.
Cody sheparded his team towards the stands, not that they needed much direction, all knew where they were going. Cody himself paused at the bottom of the staircase, he had a little time before the match started and his best mate was still missing. If he’d gotten himself sucked into a book Cody would have his head.
As he was thinking of the (very few) places Kenobi could have drifted to, he turned with the intention of checking Ravenclaw’s locker room. Before he could get far he noticed the fabric draped over the stands was caught up. He frowned, did no one take pride in their Quidditch field these days? He moved to tug down the fabric into place when he saw something move in the darkness. He stepped inside, hand reaching for his wand. He whispered a quick “lumos!” but the second the light spread through the space he almost dropped it in shock.
Equally shocked was Satine who let out a squeak, pushing Obi-Wan away who had turned to stare at him with wide eyes and a red face. It didn’t take long for him to put two and two together.
“Excuse me?!” He flicked his wand letting the light stray from its tip and instead hover in the air above them, “Do the two of you have no shame? Trying to get a good shag in on the Quidditch field ?”
“Alright hold on!” Satine cut in crossing her arms, “You’re pushing things a little far! It was simply a kiss-”
“Oh right,” Cody rolled his eyes, “A kiss in the dark under the bleachers-”
“Okay so it sounds bad when you say it like that,” Satine’s face was still quite pink, “But you can feed me truth serum and you’ll still get the same answer.”
“Fine okay so you were just making out, whatever ,” Cody threw his arms apart, “The Quidditch field is sacred, ” He emphasized and Satine’s expression became one of careful neutrality, “The best of our generation come here to play, are here to play. We mold young minds into strategists, we train, we succeed. Victories and defeats! Rights and wrong! We learn and experience all here-!”
“Cody-”
“No Satine you need to understand,” Cody put a hand on each of their shoulders, Obi-Wan, who hadn’t uttered a single sound, looked like he wanted to melt into a puddle in his Quidditch boots, “And Kenobi, I thought you of all people would know the meaning of all this!”
“Cody!” Satine cut in, “Do you know how many students I’ve caught sharing much more than a quick… well a kiss down here? I mean look around you!” She pointed towards a heart with a few letters in it, below it were several marks. He turned and saw another heart and another, and another-
“All- all this time?” Cody staggered backwards, “People have been desecrating my field-”
“Well it’s not really your field-”
“Committing all sorts of corrupted debauchery-”
“Come on Cody,” Satine crossed her arms, “You can’t seriously believe that no one’s ever found every dark nook and cranny here at Hogwarts.”
“Actually,” Obi-Wan finally found his voice, “Now that you bring that up, I’d much like to leave.”
“Wha- Ben! We weren’t doing anything wrong.”
“I know, but now I’ve gotten some unpleasant memories swirling and I’m already feeling quite mortified.”
After a quick moment of silence all three of them found themselves scrambling out, Cody yanking the fabric back into place behind him. He spared but a glance back while Kenobi tried to shake the thoughts out of his head quite literally and Satine rolled her eyes.
“You know, I definitely saw worse things in the third floor broom closet-”
“Satine please,” Obi-Wan cringed, “I’m not arguing about this right now… or ever.”
“Ah come on, but that time we both ran into-”
They were saved by the sudden eruption of cheers and thundering feet as the students above them welcomed the start of the first game.
The first game…
“The match!” Cody jumped, grabbing Obi-Wan’s hood and Satine’s sleeve and practically dragging them towards the stands.
“Cody!” Satine was able to pull her sleeve out of his grip and free Kenobi from being suffocated. They still followed him as he hurried up the stairs two at a time. Obi-Wan nearly tripped when Satine grabbed his hand and the three of them made it up into the light of day just as Durmstrang managed to make the first points.
Cody, letting himself forget about his friends' misdeeds, led them down to where Eeth and Breha were watching the game closely, “What did I miss?”
“Nothing of note yet,” Eeth’s eyes flicked around to each player and Cody could practically see the gears grinding away in his mind.
“Quinlan’s a show off that’s for sure,” Breha pointed out just as the man himself did a victory lap over… 10 points.
“Wha-” Cody scowled, “That’s a little ridiculous.”
“He’s always been a right loon,” Cody whipped his head around, not expecting such commentary from Kenobi of all people.
“Ben!” Satine seemed to think the same.
“I still can’t believe you went to the ball with that ,” Obi-Wan pointed towards where Quinlan gave a fake yawn as he raced across the field towards the goal. This time he was thwarted though because through his theatrics Hera had swiped the thing from under his nose.
“Well excuse me for picking someone who actually asked me,” Satine glared at him. He didn’t comment further. Still their hands were touching, fingers just slightly overlapped from where they rested on the bench, so Cody didn’t waste time worrying about them.
“Satine!” Aayla appeared shoving her head between Obi-Wan and Satine’s before plopping herself in the middle with a cackle, “I didn’t know Cody convinced you to play Quidditch today,” She teased.
“I- I was just here to support my friends,” Satine crossed her arms, “You are included in that you know.”
“But you’re sitting with the team!” She emphasized, “That must mean I get to finally see you riding around on a broomstick and whacking people with sticks!”
“It’s a damn good thing you’re not a beater if you think you whack people with the bat,” Satine gave her a hard look, at nearly the same time Cody found himself sighing.
“Come on Secura, Satine would be a much better Seeker,” Satine turned to him with a raised eyebrow, he’d mentioned it before, but as with most things quidditch he continued, “Satine’s too much of a pacifist to play most of the roles of Quidditch, but she does have sharp eyes and a small frame. Long arms though! Perfect for seeking.”
Satine rolled her eyes, “Always happy to have your support.”
The crowd around them cheered and Cody turned quickly around to see that Durmstrang had scored another point. Quinlan did a couple showboaty victory moves as Hera scrambled back onto her broom, clearly this had been a close call.
“Damn,” Eeth swore quietly, “It’s like he’s not even trying.”
Cody watched as Hera did an impressive glide, ducking under Quinlan. She was graceful on a broom that was for sure, but it wasn’t enough considering her fellow chasers were on the wrong side of the field. She got targeted by both bludgers and the other two Durmstrang chasers and it was more than enough to overpower her. Practically everyone in the stands winced as Hera had to sacrifice the Quaffle in order to avoid being knocked off her broom.
“Brutal,” Breha commented, before suddenly she sat up quite quickly. Cody followed her gaze and saw the glimmer of gold hanging by the Durmstrang hoops. Beauxbatons’ Seeker was hunting too low, but Durmstrang’s was getting closer… there! She dove, Beauxbatons’ seeker noticed, panicked, but there was no way he could make it in time. Durmstrang’s Seeker raised a hand proudly in the air and just like that the game was over.
“Bad luck for Beauxbatons,” Obi-Wan winced, “Wrong place at the wrong time.”
“They were searching in a figure 8 pattern,” Eeth pointed out, “It’s rather involved.”
“Durmstrang was just going back and forth,” Breha considered, “I suppose I’ll have to find a way to match them.”
That was right. Cody felt himself get to his feet, turning to face his team and Satine, “We’re up next, facing off against Durmstrang.” His team all got to their feet and made their way down towards the field, leaving Satine, who gave Kenobi’s hand a squeeze and Cody a quick nod, alone to cheer them on. It was a little odd, all the different colors blending together as they descended the stairs. Red, yellow, blue, and green. Hogwarts quidditch players who had only ever practiced together a handful of times, more used to knocking each other out than sharing the field. Still he had confidence in his picks. This would work out, it would.
Cody approached Quinlan on the field, passing by Hera and her team as they headed towards the stands. Quinlan stood casually practically leaning on his broom which bent slightly under his weight.
“I hope you enjoyed your little warm up,” Cody crossed his arms, letting his own broom hover beside him.
“Hardly could be considered such,” Quinlan stretched, the only time the man could be bothered to wear a shirt and it was still cropped short enough that such an action showed his abs, “Pretty much over and done with old BB before I even opened my eyes.”
“You seem pretty confident about it,” Cody raised an eyebrow, “The Beauxbatons Billywigs beat your team just last year.”
“Yeah, but they were missing their fearsome captain, and secret weapon,” Quinlan gave him a simmering look.
The crowd was erupting into cheers, his hand selected teammates were standing behind him. He didn’t have to turn to look. He was supported by a couple of his brothers, his best mate, another team captain. Cody gave Quinlan a wild smile, “Well while they were missing you, my team’s always had me.” It didn’t matter that they were different houses, because it wasn’t like Cody hadn’t offered his knowledge to any who asked for it over the years.
They shook hands and they were off.
Obi-Wan was starting to wonder why he let himself get dragged into this.
He ducked, dodging a rogue bludger that sailed past him before returning quite fiercely to the fray. Fives and Echo worked effortlessly together giving the Durmstrang chasers something to keep an eye on besides the Quaffle. Unfortunately that didn’t seem to be enough. It was like their chasers couldn’t get their hands on the Quaffle at all.
It wasn’t like they weren’t trying, but even at Cody’s wildest, Durmstrang seemed to dodge the attempts to apprehend the red ball easily. Aayla and Cody had crashed into each other most recently leaving the field wide open while Shu Mai hovered quietly nearby. The Slytherin was likely waiting for a moment to strike, but it wasn’t ideal to leave Obi-Wan as the only defender on the field. Still, he braced himself and managed to block the scoring attempt judging from the quick glance in Quinlan’s eyes.
The Quaffle sailed into Aayla’s hands, but she was quickly steamrolled by a much larger Durmstrang boy. She hauled herself back onto her broom, likely with a few muttered curses, before darting after them. Cody was aggressively trying to block the Durmstrang bloke, using his bulk to try and take up as much of the path forward as possible. Shu Mai then flittered in and was able to swipe the Quaffle- or would have been. She collided with Aayla and the two spiraled out, leaving only Cody. The Durmstrang team easily overpowered him, tossing the Quaffle back and forth with practiced ease before managing to sink it into the left goal post while Obi-Wan found himself flipping upside down to avoid two bludgers coming for him at once.
Cody cursed and Obi-Wan glanced over, his friend looked frustrated, understandably, a slight pull of his brow painted his face with worry. Obi-Wan knew his friend had been a bit nervous initially, but his confidence had still shone through. Now it was like it had largely disappeared. Cody looked more like he was struggling to survive than thinking of a new plan.
“Cody-” Obi-Wan was about to suggest a time out when he nearly got blown off his broom by Breha and the Durmstrang seeker both streaking past him. The wind ruffled his hair as he tried to recover fast enough to block another attempt to score, he was too slow.
“And that’s a win for the Durmstrang Dungbeetles!”
Obi-Wan turned to see the Durmstrang seeker raising her hand up proudly while Breha was red faced and angry. Upon rejoining the team on the ground it was Breha who was first to speak.
“I would have had it if that bloody harpy didn’t have the wingspan of a dragon,” She spat, pieces of her dark hair sticking out oddly from where they’d escaped her ponytail. Breha, who had struggled on a failing team for years had reserved her upset for a likely more private moment, but the soreness of losing again was permeating the atmosphere, “All you chasers,” She turned the critical eye of a captain on all three of them, “What was that, you were practically fighting each other as much as the other team! Shu Mai, where was any warning there?”
“I shouldn’t need to warn them, they should have more awareness,” She crossed her arms and stuck her nose up. Still Obi-Wan had seen her embarrass herself in front of the Minister of Magic once and she was drumming her fingers against her arm the same way.
“You almost took me out!” Aayla complained, however she, like perhaps he was as well, was less concerned about the loss. It was time to begin strategizing the next match.
“You didn’t look around before making that decision,” Eeth Koth was on approach, easily chastising Aayla, but still turning to Shu Mai, “ Your main issue was perhaps a more selfish approach to a team sport.”
“I’m not looking to end up splayed out on the ground thank you,” Shu Mai huffed.
Obi-Wan lifted his gaze and noticed Quinlan on approach. He looked over at Cody who looked dangerously deep in thought and nudged him until he blinked.
“Well that was fun wasn’t it!” Quinlan was walking with his broom behind his neck, arms draped around it, “Nice fun warm up, for the last game of the day hmm?” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.
Cody took longer than he normally would to respond, “We’ll see about that.” It was short and simple, Cody wasn’t smiling, instead he looked carefully neutral as Quinlan shrugged and headed off towards the stands.
“Alright so we’re up against Beauxbatons next,” Aayla looked between Obi-Wan, Eeth, and Bolla Ropal who looked deep in thought, “What do we know?” She turned towards Cody who looked stunned for a moment before slipping quickly back to his role of captain.
“Well Hera’s quick…” He looked skyward, “They all are. They won their tournament in 1971 based entirely on speed and the strategy’s likely been passed down.”
“Well we have speed,” Aayla pointed out.
“That’s very true!” Eeth perked up, “I noticed they used a variety of head tilts and a few subtle gestures to communicate with each other.”
“Strategy seems important to them,” Breha piped up, “Did you see how careful they were? They stuck to their preassigned positions like they were glued to them.”
“I think it’s best to attack aggressively,” Bolla Ropal suggested.
“But we still need to be speedy,” Ferus spoke up, “Um, aggressively speedy?”
“That’s probably the best tactic,” Shu Mai gave a begrudging nod to her fellow Slytherin.
“So that takes care of the chasers, but what about the beaters,” Anakin, who seemed quite bored from sitting the first match out, looked over at Fives and Echo, “No offense mates, but you did sort of flub several of those angles.”
“What?!” Fives complained, “We were on fire!”
“Well you do work well together,” Anakin held out his beater’s bat, “But you tried to hit that one like this,” He demonstrated, “But it would have probably been better to go like this!” He turned and showed a difference of angle and strength, “It would have hit that other Beater for sure.”
“Bolla,” Breha looked towards the other Seeker with a curious look, “Do you have any notes for me?”
The other Seeker shook his head, “Seeking is mostly about looking, that’s a hard thing to teach. It’s not your fault that her arms were longer.”
“Oh!” Anakin removed himself from the headlock Fives was giving him and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a slightly singed piece of parchment paper and handed it to Breha, “Rex told me to give this to you, since he couldn’t make it today.” The other third year Gryffindor had wound up in detention, “He said it has his super secret strategy on it, might come in handy.”
“Ah, thanks Anakin,” Breha looked at the parchment quizzically, “I’ll be sure to thank Rex later.”
Cody finally cleared his throat gaining the attention of his thrown together team, “Alright so we’ll be needing to line up soon. I’d like to make some changes to the opening line up,” He gave all of them a once over, “I’m going to swap out Shu Mai for Bana-”
Shu Mai growled, but surprisingly didn’t say anything of the contrary.
“Next I’ll switch out Echo for Anakin,” Unlike the previous pair, Echo just offered a high five to Anakin who accepted eagerly, “Finally I’d like Bolla to join us for this match,” Breha just nodded at her alternate and moved to stand next to Eeth, “I think this will maximize our team’s speed-”
“Except you,” Shu Mai spoke up, all eyes turned to her and she shrugged, “I don’t think you're the picture of aerodynamics. Trying to get all the glory?”
Obi-Wan opened his mouth for a defense, but Cody himself beat him to it, “If I’m slowing my team down, I’ll pull myself out of the line up,” He assured which seemed to surprise her. Obi-Wan supposed in Slytherin, it would be more likely for someone to sink the team’s odds in favor of themselves. It was just another reason that he found himself delighted to not be a part of it.
The team started to scatter, moving to their line ups or drifting towards the bench. Obi-Wan caught Cody’s shoulder before he could move to meet Hera in the center of the field.
“What’s bothering you?” He asked and when he could see Cody about to deflect his question he added, “Really?”
“I guess I’m just a bit concerned, by our loss,” Cody said carefully and Obi-Wan crossed his arms.
“You’ve lost before.”
“This feels… different,” Cody admitted, eyes darting to Hera, “Like the stakes are much higher.”
“Whether they are or not,” Obi-Wan reasoned, “You told me we had Hogwarts’ best out here on the field.”
“We do,” Cody answered quickly.
“Then in order to win,” Obi-Wan pushed, “You can’t stop believing that. We need your conviction.”
Obi-Wan could practically see the seed he was trying to plant in his friend's mind bloom as Cody straightened, “You’re right. We have the best team out here. We just have to try something new.”
“Don’t try,” Obi-Wan gave him a small smile and a shrug, “Do.”
Losing a match was always something that stung. Cody had been through plenty of defeats in his time playing Quidditch, but there was something about losing to that showoff Quinlan that hurt a little bit more. Quinlan was just about as competitive as Cody found himself on most days, but the other boy was more cocky. Cody had definitely spotted Quinlan sat next to Satine up in the team’s bleachers, feet up on the railing as if he couldn’t care less who won this current match-
Cody narrowly avoided a bludger to the head.
The current match. Yes he wasn’t facing Quinlan and Durmstrang, he was facing Hera and Beauxbatons. And he was just about to miss the Quaffle coming right at him with all his focus on the other team in the bleachers. He managed to swipe it, ducking under a broom and tossing it with a little too much power to Aayla who still managed to catch it with a grunt and a scowl. She dipped around the last chaser and without slowing down managed to make it through the rings on the other side.
Hera and her team were definitely not an easy break. They were basically neck and neck and Hera had flown circles around him without so much as batting an eye. He was likely the slowest out of his chasers so he’d have to thank Anakin personally for keeping her occupied with some very accurate bludgers. Anakin had his ups and downs over these first few years of Quidditch, but it seemed as the boy grew and practiced he was only getting better and better. Fives worked with him almost as well as Echo just simply from proximity even if he wouldn’t admit it. They were rather fearsome.
The only thing was… Bana, who had shown to be one of the quickest chasers, wasn't really the best at reading the field. She tossed him the Quaffle and it was intercepted before it had fully released from her hand. She looked so baffled that Cody couldn't do anything except call for a time out after Beauxbatons had successfully zipped past Obi-Wan’s defense.
They all hit the ground and Cody made little work of switching out Bana and calling on someone who was a bit of a wild card, “Ferus,” The Slytherin straightened. He was a beater on his home team, but Cody was sure after training with him a bit that he could do this, “We’re going to try you out.” He nodded and quickly took position. Cody then looked towards Eeth and Breha who looked like they were still deep in discussion of tactics and he felt his hold on his broom tighten.
He’d invited them on this team not just because of their skills, but because as fellow captains they had strategy. He’d been a bit too proud earlier to ask them their opinions, but they seemed willing to give it between matches. He looked at them now and swallowed that baseless pride, “Do you see any more changes we could make?”
Breha smiled at him, her hair twisted much smoother than it had been, “I think you should stick closer to Hera, she seems to thrive on open air.”
“Aayla, your turns need to be sharper,” Eeth added and Aayla grinned like a shark.
“I thought you said specifically not to do that in our matches last year?” She straightened a twig at the end of her broom, “That it was ‘dangerous’ .”
“It is,” Eeth scowled, “But now’s the time.”
“Bolla,” Breha whispered something to him, Cody couldn’t hear. It wouldn’t be the location of the snitch as that would be some pretty foul rule breaking that the Hufflepuff would never submit to. It must have been good though because the other seeker smiled.
“Anakin, Fives” Cody threw his arms around the younger boys, “I actually think I might have an idea.”
“If you’re in need of mischief you’ve come to the right place,” Fives grinned as if it wasn’t abundantly obvious to anyone who’s met him already.
Cody turned towards the rest of the team, “Beauxbatons aren't quick to anger, they’re very careful, guarded. I think if we try something to throw them off it will work better than any old quidditch play. That being said, Shu Mai?” The Slytherin looked up in surprise from her place on the bench, “You’re going to swap with me,” The girl stood up quickly, “On one condition,” The two stared at each other for a minute. The Slytherin clearly trying for an air of superiority and ultimately wavering, “You need to work together with Ferus and Aayla, I think the three of you could really show them something… unique.”
Shu Mai looked around, expression guarded, but just barely. For someone with such small eyes they were wider than he’d ever seen, “Deal.”
“Then here’s the plan…”
Anakin was loving this plan.
He and Fives were essentially playing the world's most deadly game of ping pong, zipping around sending the bludgers flying across the field at wildly alarming speeds. He wasn’t worried about hitting anyone at this time, Cody told him it was the chaos that would do the trick. He seemed to be right so far, they’d already startled the other team's beaters and one of the chasers had flown straight into an oncoming bludger. Obi-Wan was having an easier time blocking the hoops (and boy was it weird they were playing on the same team). Anakin accidently knocked a bludger a little too close to the hoops and earned a stern expression.
“Sorry!” He said a little too merrily to seem like he meant it. It did feel nice to do something normal with his mentor again. This was the closest they’d been to actually speaking for months and although Anakin still didn’t know what to say or anything, he was going to enjoy the normalcy.
Shu Mai made a carefully crafted play involving zig zagging down the field the wrong way just to hand off the Quaffle easier to Ferus, who really was one of the biggest surprises. The Slytherin beater had an easy knack for chasing, it did have Anakin wondering if Slytherin had correctly picked their positions for their team. Ferus seemed surprised himself, but worked seamlessly with Aayla to playfully pass the Quaffle back and forth until finally Aayla ducked under and Ferus over, allowing Aayla to dunk the ball into the hoop right next to the quite surprised face of Beauxbatons’ keeper.
Anakin glanced down at the bench where the three house captains were standing quite close together. He wasn’t sure what they were planning, but he hoped it was how to end this match sooner. His arm was getting tired! He still continued to ping pong the bludgers back towards Fives who deviated one towards the other team's beaters who were trying to sneak up on him. The other beater was surprised enough to be caught in the chest.
Beauxbatons called a time out just as Anakin clipped Hera’s shoulder. Both teams grounded quickly and Anakin couldn’t help but smirk as the other team’s frustrated Beater tossed their bat at the ground in anger.
“Alright! Bring it in!” Cody, face lit up quite happily as he looked around at the team, clapped Ferus and Shu Mai on the back. Both looked surprised exchanging glances with each other, “Great job, honestly that zig zag play was genius! They’re on the run for sure, look.”
Anakin did look. Beauxbatons was huddled closely together, clearly working hard at a strategy. Which speaking of…
“So what’s the plan now?” Aayla asked bouncing on the balls of her feet, “I’ve got a few clever ideas up my sleeve-”
“Just play like normal,” Eeth raised an eyebrow at her.
“What? After all that?” Fives crossed his arms.
“We’ve confused them,” Breha pointed out, “They’re angry now that they’re losing and they can’t figure out our next move.”
“They’re going to be preparing to defend against the chaos we just put them in,” Cody pointed out, “But now we’re going to throw them off again. The goal now is, Bolla?” He turned towards the Ravenclaw, “I need you to get that snitch fast, they won’t fall for it for long.”
As they headed back towards the field to line up, Anakin did notice Beauxbatons’ Beaters watching him closely. A glance around provided him with a small look into their thought process. The Chasers were standing closer together and their Seeker was a little too close to their Keeper. It was likely a way to prevent getting offed by a bludger, but not conducive to catching the snitch.
Up in the air the other team’s Beater was trying to match him pace for pace, they seemed surprised when Fives sent a bludger quite casually towards their Keeper and Anakin sent only one hit towards the chasers before changing positions.
The plan worked, in the midst of Beauxbatons trying to reroute after another change in play, Bolla Ropal held up his hand lazily. The snitch fluttering between his fingers, no one had even noticed him catch it.
Quinlan watched in mild interest as Hogwarts’ seeker landed back on the ground. He’d honestly expected this whole match to be a wash. Beauxbatons was not a team to ignore, they’d bested Durmstrang several times in the past and have certainly never let them live it down. Hera herself had led her team of very fast flyers, they had some of the newest brooms available, but it was more than that. Their technique was strong, calculated turning and careful handling kept them more agile than most bothered to learn to be.
Hogwarts next to them looked choppy and unorganized. Although he supposed that was partly his own fault. Demanding to play all of Hogwarts and not Cody Fett’s actual team didn’t make for the smoothest transition. Despite the challenge though they had managed to throw the Billywigs off course. It was a little impressive, he supposed. Quinlan sighed as he stood up from the stands.
Maybe that’s why he’d done it in the first place. He didn’t have anything to prove, if anything Fett was the one who was trying to prove something. What exactly he wasn’t certain. He’d only agreed to this sham tournament because there was a certain someone he was trying to keep off his mind.
He shook his head as he stepped foot on the field. No he would not think of her again, she was gone and perhaps that was for the best. He waltzed his way across the field. He held himself in an unbothered sort of way and crossed his arms as he stood confidently across from Fett and his team.
“Hope your team didn’t sack you yet,” Quinlan faked concern, “Seeing as how you found yourself benched.”
Fett smirked throwing Quinlan off, “Just needed another angle.”
An angle? Quinlan furrowed his brow, but shook it off, “I don’t think you can get any better than up in the air, ya know where the match is?”
“I do know thank you,” Fett nonchalantly thumbed over a smudge on his broom, “Haven’t gotten lost yet.”
“You seemed pretty lost facing us,” Quinlan gestured to his team behind him.
Fett eyed him up, quiet a moment before, “You know Vos, winning isn’t everything.”
“Well it will be,” Quinlan pointed out with a snort, “lose to us here and it’s all over.”
Fett shook his head, “I don’t think I have anything to worry about,” He shot a smile back to where-
Wait.
Behind Fett were three players, which would indicate that all the chaser spots were filled…
“Are you planning on sitting out again, Captain?” Quinlan felt his lips curl upwards, oh he scared him after all.
Fett however rolled his eyes, “Don’t think I’d miss this one, Vos.”
He then turned around and walked away. Quinlan watched him go, frozen until he saw him take up the Keeper’s position, turning to face him and Durmstrang with a carefully neutral look.
This had to be a joke.
Quinlan moved back to take his position.
He wasn’t naive and he doubted Fett was either, despite his oddities. Quinlan had trained as a Chaser his whole life and he’d come out on top because of it. Did Fett really think he could just willy nilly swap around on the field? Quinlan would definitely not let him live this one down.
He got a hold of the Quaffle quickly and darted aggressively across the field. Hogwarts team moved out of the way in shock and his own team hadn’t even moved to follow him. Not that it mattered it was just about him and his dignity.
Quinlan swooped around, changing position and making sure to move his aim around wildly, there was no way he’d be able to tell that he was shooting for the-
Left hoop…
In surprise Quinlan watched for a second longer than he normally would have as the Quaffle fell between them. He looked back up at Fett who looked to be appraising him, looking through him. He growled as he swooped down to reclaim the Quaffle. He wasn’t about to let that one go.
Cody wasn’t stupid. Despite of course what maybe some of his test scores would indicate (although even those a couple of annoying Ravenclaw prefects would argue against). Although Cody had trained in several Quidditch positions it was always in mock matches and he’d certainly never played Keeper in a game yet. He felt like he owed Kenobi an apology because these Chasers zooming around were going to give him a headache.
He ducked as a bludger zoomed past, but didn’t let it phase him enough to let any of the Durmstrang chasers score.
He waited until his team had successfully scored before he called time out. No, he hadn’t been planning on playing much in this role, despite the new complexities it created and was quite interesting. He needed someone who was more practiced. His boots hit the ground before the rest of his team and they quickly descended on the bench.
“Did you see Quinlan miss that shot?” Eeth grinned, “I thought his face might soon match his uniform.”
“Those Beaters didn’t expect me either,” Anakin piped up, “And Maris did a cool backwards hit!” He turned to the sixth year, “You’ve got to teach me that one!”
“Alright, alright,” Cody held out his hands as he took in his team composition, “Don’t get cocky, that would defeat our whole plan. We wanted to throw Quinlan a curveball and we did. His whole team is thrown off,” Cody looked around carefully, “I’m not sure if anyone else noticed, but their Seeker almost caught the snitch, if it wasn’t for their own chaser running straight into them.” That mellowed things out again.
“We need to focus,” He turned, “I’m taking over for Eeth, Clovis? You're up.”
“Yes sir!” Clovis sprung up giving a half sort of salute.
“I want to be upset,” Eeth sat himself back down on the bench, “But it was worth it just to see that chaser on the left practically spit poison at Quinlan.”
“Er, Cody,” Obi-Wan caught his attention while the rest of the team chatted amongst themselves, “Are you sure about this? I can go on.”
While it was true that Kenobi could, he had the willpower and he certainly didn’t know how to complain. Cody shook his head, “I need you for the last match so rest up.”
“But Cody,” Obi-Wan gave him that too familiar look of criticism, “If we lose this match, there won’t be another match.”
And while it was rare for Kenobi to be wrong Cody didn’t even bother to entertain the fact, “We’re not going to lose.”
“Cody I’m all about the power of positive thinking but-”
Cody, who had glanced over to where Quinlan and his team seemed to be lashing out at one another, shook his head, “We’re not going to lose.”
Obi-Wan had been skeptical of this plan. Quinlan had never seemed the type to anger easily, but somehow Cody had managed. He was keeping up with Quinlan probably better than anyone ever had. It was almost like he was a completely different player from their first match against Durmstrang. Every throw Cody intercepted, every move Cody was there, and the whole time Cody didn’t bother being smug or cheer he just kept a steady cold focus on his target.
The rest of Durmstrang’s team wasn’t much help either. Aayla was flying circles around her target and Ferus was doing well at keeping his fellow chaser as far from the action as he could. Anakin and Maris had a surprisingly good meshing, even if she was only there to give Fives a break after Obi-Wan was quite sure the boy had given himself carpal tunnel.
The thing about this tournament was that given the nature of events they’d found themselves playing 3 straight matches and if Cody was right they’d be on their 4th shortly. That was tough on a player of any level let alone students.
Clovis, who was currently playing keeper, was doing a pretty stand up job. Cody had apparently been working with him on the side for a couple months to improve his defense and it was manifesting itself in some rather crafty blocks. He’d still missed a couple of, in Obi-Wan’s opinion, easy blocks, but overall not bad.
Suddenly Breha zoomed low, so low Obi-Wan’s own hair was ruffled and he stepped back on instinct as Durmstrang’s seeker had followed quite closely behind. Breha had managed it though, holding the snitch in the air as the Durmstrang seeker seemed to resist the urge to snap her own broom in half.
Quinlan wasn’t used to feeling out of breath after a match, but he did. Holding his broom in a tight grip he gathered his team together, but couldn’t find anything substantial to say. If anything he was mad. He hadn’t been planning on losing today, especially not to that thrown together team.
He approached Fett who looked to be waiting on him. Quinlan grit his teeth.
“Was that a good enough warm up for you?” Fett prompted upon his approach, “Because the real match starts now.” There was something different about him. Fett still seemed confident like the last time they’d spoken, but this time there was a quiet fire behind his voice. He didn’t intend to lose today either.
“At least I didn’t forget which position I play,” Quinlan tried, but it was a lousy barb.
Fett looked over his shoulder with a shrug, “Thought I’d try something new, you didn’t like it?”
“I’ve been training my position for years,” He defended before he could stop himself.
Fett however just shrugged, “Kind of limiting isn’t it?”
“What do you want to swap around your players and find out?” Quinlan crossed his arms, but Cody just gave him a funny sort of smile.
“I mean, I sort of did that already didn’t I?” Fett threw a thumb behind him, “Ferus is Slytherin’s beater, Clovis is Gryffindor’s chaser.”
Quinlan stared towards Ferus as if expecting the boy to dispute this. The kid had caught a particularly difficult interception just 10 minutes ago; there was no way…
Fett continued as if Quinlan had asked about it, “I saw remarkable potential in Ferus, he’s an okay Beater, but he’s really got a knack for Chasing I could tell.”
“You could tell?” Quinlan repeated, “You staked his position on your team because ’you could tell’?”
Fett shrugged, “I weighed all the odds, this is Hogwarts most statistically sound team. I believe in them.”
“That… Doesn’t make any sense,” Quinlan felt his head spin trying to see the angle here. Half of these students had never played with one another and now some of them had been swapped to something new and they still thought they had a chance. Maybe they had just gotten lucky.
“I’ll have more time to explain it to you after the match if you actually want to know,” Fett suggested. Quinlan didn’t answer, just moved back to allow them to take flight one more time.
The thing about being a chaser, was that technically the points you made didn’t matter. To Cody he would never admit that he even considered that. He took his position seriously and he would and could tell anyone who asked, or several that didn’t, about all the matches where this wasn’t true. He didn’t want to give the other team satisfaction of drawing ahead and he wouldn’t let them gain the upperhand even if it all technically came down to a little golden ball with wings.
For example, Quinlan had just had his toss blocked by Obi-Wan who had thrown Cody the Quaffle with barely even a glance in his direction. Quinlan, who likely felt similarly to Cody, was unhappy with this, but even more so when Cody moved quickly across the field and managed to sneak past Durmstrang’s Keeper.
Durmstrang was ahead this match, clearly not taking the last match lying down. Still with Cody’s latest goal they were only ahead by one. He did notice that all traces of arrogance had vanished from the other team. Durmstrang was finally taking them seriously it seemed.
Cody passed the Quaffle to Aayla who stealthily passed to Ferus who managed to score again. Breha caught his attention with a careful hand signal. She’d seen the snitch, but it had disappeared again. The other Seeker didn’t seem to have noticed.
Cody blocked Durmstrang from scoring just as he got clipped by a bludger. There wasn’t much someone could do to keep a seeker from finding the snitch… except maybe something flashy, something distracting. And there was one move Cody had cooked up but hadn’t been willing to try yet. He signaled to Ferus to move further up the field and Aayla, who had caught the Quaffle, passed it to Ferus.
Ferus was swamped pretty quickly, but held tight until he found an opening to toss to Cody. Cody grabbed the ball out of the air before it could plummet to the ground and flew straight down the field. Quinlan, who hadn’t fallen for Ferus’ bait, stood between him and the goal post. Caught now in a game of chicken, Cody didn’t budge, but neither did Quinlan. The set up was perfect, just how he’d practiced in the back garden with Hevy.
The only difference was he trusted Hevy not to let him fall and he wasn’t sure he could trust the man in front of him.
Just before they would have crashed, he twisted his broom handle just so, his broom stopped suddenly, catapulting him into the air, above Quinlan, higher than the head of the very surprised looking Keeper. He threw the Quaffle, but the shock hadn’t been enough and his play was caught in very surprised hands. Cody’s own hand managed to catch hold on the back of Quinlan’s broom.
This is where he expected everything to go wrong. Most likely Quinlan would buck him off and he’d wake up in the hospital wing… again. However instead when he looked up at Quinlan he was met with slack jawed astonishment.
Since he wasn’t being tossed to the ground Cody turned his attention to the multi-colored confetti littering the air.
“Hogwarts Wins!”
Breha had done it, sealing their win with a sneaky catch right under the other team’s nose.
Quinlan didn’t waste time steering his broom towards the ground. Cody let go as soon as his feet brushed the ground and was about to turn to his team before being stopped by a hand stuck out towards him.
Quinlan’s eyes were still wide, his hair in a wild sort of disarray that really suited him, “That was crazy.”
Cody tentatively took the offered hand and shook it, “Good game. I can see why the Arrows wanted you.”
“Man I don’t even know what team’s going to want a crazy bugger like you,” Quinlan shook his head, “Either way I’ll look forward to seeing you on the field in the future, Fett.”
Cody took in the sight of Hogwarts’ arena. This time things felt a little more bittersweet. This was it, the last game he’d play for his school. He looked back towards Quinlan however and saw what he hoped was his future. Facing off against other talented individuals from around the world and coming up with ways to take them down.
“Right back at you, Vos.”
Satine considered herself to be a supportive friend and girlfriend. She’d talked Cody off the ledge from every quidditch loss and indulged his excitement during Gryffindor’s tremendous victories (even if she still hated the sport). She visited Kit Fisto’s watery grave this summer along with Aayla, to show quiet strength and support for her (semi-delusional) friend in mourning. She still hadn’t told anyone about the time Stass peed herself in the middle of potions class third year. And obviously, the list went on and on when it came to the lengths she went to in order to support Obi-Wan Kenobi- not just in academia or life, but this bloody tournament as well.
However, she found she very well might draw the line at listening to the horrid musical conduct of Kowakian Lizard-Monkeys. That is to say, the misconduct , seeing as the window panes quite literally began to splinter and crack at their squawking.
He’d gotten himself woven into yet another thread of responsibility, which though she reminded him he did not need, he still took on with the same pride he applied to anything else. He patiently dedicated an hour of his evenings to coaxing the single Monkey-Lizard they had (the other had mysteriously escaped, though she was a bit concerned what the power of two would have sounded like) into producing Tahl’s arrangement.
It seemed there was a creature to represent each school’s traditions. Hogwarts, predictably, had the assistance of the frog choir while Beauxbaton would be represented by the pretty little wood nymphs who sat politely in a line on Tahl’s desk. If Satine didn’t know any better, she’d say they were trying to flirt with Obi-Wan every time he asked them to sing their part.
And the Kowakians were, of course, there for Durmstrang. Or more notedly, the Hutt’s.
The entire point of the ensemble was to promote togetherness, even if that prospect might have been long gone. Satine could appreciate the gesture, although she wasn’t sure the other schools would reciprocate.
“Alright, friends, let’s take it from the top,” Obi-Wan said gently and her heart really did melt at his kindness towards all creatures. He could be absolutely infuriating or positively endearing, but she found she cared for him just as much either way.
Satine suddenly found herself missing muggle music as she heard all three creatures “sing” together. The Kowakians were meant to sing soprano, the wood nymphs alto, and the frogs bass. However, it currently sounded like a deranged cat in a blender.
Trying as she might to keep her eyes down on her textbook, she must have worn her distaste for the sound, because after a pause, she heard a telling “hmm” from Obi-Wan at the front. She flicked her gaze towards him to find that curious frown etched across his lips.
“It’s definitely a bit too sharp, isn’t it?” He asked.
She couldn’t tell if it was she he was asking or Tahl, but she gave a noncommittal shrug to indicate she really didn’t know what it was supposed to sound like.
“It needs something,” Tahl commented mildly, as though her eardrums weren’t about to combust. Satine didn’t see how. She’d read that those who went blind often experienced heightened sensitivity for sound.
“It sounds like they’re working against each other,” He said in agreement, “It needs to sound like they’re singing three different harmonies. Perhaps, working separately first would be better. So, they can learn their own parts.”
“That is how I encourage my students.” She said, “Perhaps, it was foolhardy to assume they would be any different.”
“This truly is a lovely piece, Professor,” Obi-Wan said, skimming his eyes over the sheet music. “Isn’t it, Satine?”
Satine would have scowled if she could have without hurting the music Professor’s feelings. She hadn’t even the faintest idea that they’d started singing or performing until Obi-Wan had begun to give notes. It sounded a lot more like the creatures were just screeching at the highest pitch possible.
“I’m sure it will be beautiful once played to its true intention,” She said diplomatically, being sure to give Obi-Wan a proper glare for putting her on the spot. He didn’t seem phased, of course, because why would he be? He’d been on the receiving end of her glares for years.
“Satine, you’re very sweet, but you can just say it’s bloody dreadful right now,” Tahl barked out a laugh, causing Satine’s jaw to drop and an immediate flurry of denial to instantly pour. It was this, she suspected, which led to Obi-Wan heartily taking part in laughter at her expense.
While it would normally be nice to see Obi-Wan and Tahl getting on as well as they had been this past week, Satine felt her cheeks heating up at their shared teasing.
When they calmed down, Obi-Wan smiled back at her, “They will sound great when we figure out how to meld their sounds. This trio will compliment each other once we come to that conclusion. Just as ours does.”
Recovering from her own embarrassment, she swiftly shifted into a challenging position as she gave him a warning glance, “Careful who you presume is who of our trio in comparison to these little creatures.”
“As though you’d be anything but the wood nymph,” He rolled his eyes, though the wood nymph didn’t seem too pleased about it, instead turning her dainty nose up to Satine and scooting closer to where Obi-Wan’s arm rested on the desk.
“There you go.” Tahl said.
“After all, she’s the only girl present!” Obi-Wan added unhelpfully.
“Someone is keen on being in trouble,” Tahl laughed and Satine couldn’t help but also chuckle.
“What?” He asked, genuinely boggled. “What did I say?”
“Nothing,” Satine said, beginning to gather her books, “But you’re the frog.”
“Why?”
“I think it’s obvious,” She said.
“Is it?” He asked looking at the frog and trying to figure out how his vocal stylings or likeness compared as such. “Why am I a frog?”
“Because you are most certainly not a prince,” She quipped and rose to her feet with purpose, relishing in the background laughter of the amused professor. If nothing else came of this night, at least Professor Tahl was having a good time. As it were, Satine was beginning to get a headache from all the music .
“Oh but you my dear,” He caught her by the hand before she could pass, holding her knuckles up to his mouth, “Put all princesses to shame.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere now,” She sighed, even if she did allow him to place a kiss on her hand. “I will see you in the common room, yes? I’ve got to stop by the library to return some books.”
“I can walk you,” He began to rise to his feet, but she shook her head.
“-Nonsense, you’re having fun,” She smiled at him, giving his hand a squeeze so he knew she wasn’t actually displeased with him, “Don’t be too late, we’ve got a charms quiz tomorrow.”
“Satine, I promise, I will carry him to the common room myself if he tries to stay past curfew,” Tahl was still smiling, but there was a sense of severity and responsibility about her that made Satine trust this to be true, “Every good champion needs his rest.”
Obi-Wan groaned, “I am capable of getting myself to bed, thank you.”
“That is very much in debate,” Satine said, tapping him on the nose with her forefinger.
Padmé, despite having to attend countless formal parties and meetings over the arrangement of it, never developed a predilection for tea. In the UK, it was significantly more popular than the alternative of coffee, but having parents from outside the country, she’d always fancied the aroma and texture of coffee. There was something more artistic about the process of brewing coffee. You could really get lavish with it and design shapes into the foam or blend different creams and sugars to result in a different flavor. Yes, tea was arguably easier, but there was very little room for error with tossing a bag in hot water and stirring.
Her mother had always been against it when she was young, stating that it would stunt her growth. However, at the tender age of fifteen, Padmé hadn’t seen any further signs of physical growth in sight. All the women in her family, both on her father and mother’s side, were small ladies of stature and big in personality. She was already taller than her mother and would certainly need the boost in energy come next year for OWLS.
They did serve some form of coffee at breakfast as an option, though by the bland taste of it, very little effort was put in to give it much flavor or kick. She even suspected that it was decaffeinated, just as tea usually was when offered to students.
So, it was only fitting that Padmé began to brew her own coffee.
She’d been able to purchase a bag of beans during the last trip to Hogsmeade. She’d initially been shocked to even find them at Madam Puddifoot’s for sale, but they had recently begun to sell a line of coffee and coffee related products under the moniker “Espresso Patronum”. It was quite creative, actually, and the bag was a shimmery blue with various holographic animals that sparkled in the light, all meant to emulate an actual patronus.
She’d purchased a couple of bags, just in case she wasn’t able to get it right, and had managed to convince the kitchen staff to allow her entry when they weren’t in the midst of meal rushes. This meant that if she wanted a special brand of coffee, she’d have to have it during the off-hours. This suited her needs just fine, as she anticipated most hours studying were spent when everyone else was winding down for the evening.
She’d just returned with a fresh canister full of the latte she’d managed to make for herself (after only two rather pitiful attempts), ready to do a bit of reading in the library to try and further unravel the mystery of sabotage in this TriWizard tournament. With Rex in detention and Anakin practicing spells with Professor Palpatine, it looked like she was going to be at it alone tonight.
That was, until she caught sight of Satine also in the library, carrying a few large tomes back to the table she usually occupied with Cody and Obi-Wan. Presently, the table was otherwise empty, which led Padmé to wonder if Satine was in a similar position that evening. Not wanting to disturb her, but also craving some of her input, she debated on how to approach, but didn’t need to for very long when Satine tripped and dropped all of her books quite loudly to the ground.
“Blast,” She muttered under her breath, cheeks a bit pink from causing any ruckus.
Padmé winced and hurried over, kneeling to help her retrieve the fallen books. This also gave her the opportunity to check out what she’d been reading. There were a few on expert level protective charms, advanced history of magic memoirs, and most notably, Hogwarts: A History volumes 18, 20, and 21.
“Got anything in particular against volume 19?” She joked, feeling it a decent place to start. Nowhere was it written that just because this useless quarrel was still ongoing between Obi-Wan and Anakin that the two of them couldn’t speak.
After all, Anakin was hardly the same to her as Obi-Wan was to Satine.
The older girl didn’t seem particularly thrown by Padmé’s presence in the slightest and huffed out a laugh, “Nothing, but it seems it’s been checked out by a quicker reader. I’d like to get a full picture of Hogwarts’ past in order to understand this tournament better.”
“Same,” She said, “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Are you kidding? I’d love the company,” Satine smiled, “Though I do wonder what good you think you’ll get from consuming coffee so soon before bed.”
“Right,” Padmé laughed nervously, wrapping a hand around the pink canister with her initials on the side, “It’s er- it’s decaf.”
“If you say so,” The Head Girl raised a scrutinizing brow at Padmé before turning back to her reading materials and placing them on the nearby table, “But you know, we’re really not all that different. I used to burn myself out in hopes of getting ahead too.”
Padmé really tried not to let the fact that Satine saw them as similar people go to her head at that moment and nodded along to the advice she was ready to dole out. Some thought that Satine was too prone to beration, but Padmé knew how women and girls were often perceived as bossy when they were simply just, born to be bosses or leaders.
“You did?” She asked, prompting her to continue.
“I did,” She said, “I mean, it wasn’t all for that purpose. To me, it felt more like catching up than getting ahead, actually. I was a muggle born who knew nothing of magic having not grown up with it.”
“That’s true,” Padmé said, thinking back to all the things that had been normal for her growing up, but completely anew for someone like Satine.
“It was always exciting to find something new and I never wanted to rest at risk of slipping further behind the eight ball,” Satine explained, her eyes a bit far off as she thought of a younger age.
“So, what happened?”
“Falling asleep during class is bad, but flying class? Far from ideal,” Satine smiled a bit ruefully, “But I learned that the moments you spend resting are often just as important as those you spend awake. Burning yourself down to the bottom of the wick is like sprinting at the start of a run. That might work for a short distance, but if you want to go long, you’ll have to develop endurance.”
Then with a bit of somberness befalling her, she cleared her throat, “Qui-Professor Jinn taught me that.”
Padmé hadn’t known Professor Jinn very well on a personal level. She’d taken his Muggle Studies class the previous year, and had been remorseful when he’d passed, but most of her grief was towards Anakin and even Obi-Wan. Most, including herself, tended to forget how close Satine was to him too.
She’d lost someone and Padmé wondered briefly if she’d truly been allowed to grieve in the shadow of severity that engulfed those more dependent on Qui-Gon.
“Sounds like you’ve passed on that bit of wisdom quite a bit,” Padmé said lightly.
“Trust me, I’m still constantly trying to get my boyfriend into bed,” She shook her head and then paused, flushing instantly at her own faux paux, which Padmé’s giggles did not help, “Oh hush, you know what I mean.”
“I do,” Padmé said and eyed her coffee carefully before sliding it a bit out of reach. If Satine noticed, she didn’t comment on it.
So, the two girls got to work, chatting idly as they flipped through the books Satine had chosen to pour over.
“We’re definitely going to need volume 19,” Satine murmured after closing the end of volume 18. Padmé hadn’t gotten very far into 20 and was more in awe that Satine had charted as much success as she had.
“Where does 18 leave off?” She asked.
“Just as the last TriWizard Tournament was announced,” She said, flipping the large book over as though there would be a hidden message on the back, “Strange way to end it, honestly.”
“Yeah, well volume 20 doesn’t even acknowledge such a thing happened,” Padmé said, “Though Hogwarts did undoubtedly seem like a much darker place back then.”
“The punishments were gruesome,” Satine grimaced and pointed to a drawn picture of a young wizard wrapped in a nasty pit of devil’s snare. The idea was to expunge the “bad” out of them apparently.
Padmé had also decided to step over Anakin and to explain what she’d seen in the reflection of the goblet of fire as well as the possible omen that hung over Obi-Wan’s head.
“Anakin is still trying to figure out a way to tell Obi-Wan,” She explained before the blonde could grow angry at this withheld information, “He’s a bit afraid he’ll be rejected.”
Satine looked anything but angry, though. In fact, she didn’t react much at all. “I’ve had my suspicions that Obi-Wan has been the target of attack this entire year. Even if the professors do not wish to see it that way.”
“But this stuff about Revan, that’s a bit ominous, wouldn’t you say?” She asked, “Especially coupled with that figure that’s been turning up in the shadows?”
“One of Dooku’s minions, I’m sure,” Satine said, “After his strike on Diagon Alley, I’d assume he doesn’t want to be the sole face for his cause.”
“But why Obi-Wan?” Padmé asked.
“The joking part of me wants to propose that he’s simply cursed,” Satine chuckled, but there wasn’t any humor to it, “The other part of me suggests responsibility of those that coaxed him into this tournament.”
“And who would that be?” Padmé asked. “Didn’t he put his own name on the goblet?”
“He wouldn’t have if not for his parents,” Satine said bitterly, “And they were so hellbent on his entry for the sake of family name and prosperity.”
“But… Why would they sacrifice their own son?” Padmé asked.
“What does it matter when they’ve practically got a new one on their hands?” She clenched her teeth and released a sigh, “Thank you for telling me this, Padmé.”
“I’m sure Anakin will be telling Obi-Wan on his own soon,” She said, “Like I’ve said, he’s a bit guilty about the whole thing.”
This time, Satine did frown, “But Obi-Wan has sent Anakin several letters of his own apology.”
“He- what?”
“It’s been Anakin who has been distant these days,” She said, “Which I’ve assumed up until this point has simply been growing pains.”
“Anakin gave Obi-Wan a birthday present that was never acknowledged,” Padmé said slowly and leaned back in her seat with crossed arms, “Did he even receive it?”
“Not to my knowledge,” Satine said, “He was a bit glum about not hearing from him, though he’s quite coy about his birthday in general, so I don’t suspect he expected to hear from him on the celebratory day.”
“That’s strange,” She furrowed her brow, “Why do you think that is?”
“Either they’re both individually lying, which doesn’t make a lick of sense given their current positions of discontent,” Satine said, “Or-”
“-Someone is trying to keep them apart.” Padmé realized. “How sneaky.”
“It could just be the idiotic competition between houses,” Satine proposed, “Or it could be something more malicious than that. Regardless, we need to get them talking again. If both Anakin and Obi-Wan are at risk in this final task, with Dooku and his pet at large, they need to work together and forget about the actual victory itself.”
“I agree,” Padmé said, “We’ll have to set them up.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard,” Satine said, “Obi-Wan’s head is spread in too many directions to notice.”
“And Anakin is easily distracted,” Padmé chuckled.
“It’ll be no time before they’re chummy again,” Satine smiled with a nod, “Now, it is getting a bit late. I say we should go check out these books and resume our studies tomorrow.”
“Really?” Padmé tried not to sound too enthusiastic.
“I’ve learned a whole lot more from you tonight than I have on my own recently,” She said, “I’m under the firm belief that we should be helping each other. We want both of our boys to make it out of this alive, after all.”
“Absolutely,” Padmé said and got up to follow her to the front desk, where a tired Madame Jocasta Nu sipped at her tea and waved her wand to apply stamps on books.
“Pardon me, Madame Nu, but I would like to check out these books and tomes,” Satine said sweetly, “And additionally, I’d like to inquire about a return date for another.”
“Of course, dear girl,” Madame Nu smiled kindly, the lines in her cheeks symbolizing many years of smiles. With the expert flick of her thin, white wand, all of the books in Satine’s arms slid onto the mahogany counter with pages flipping frantically. In what could have been described only as lightning speed, Madame Nu stamped each book’s back cover without so much as blinking.
“Now, what was that book that you requested?” She asked.
“ Hogwarts: A History volume 19 please,” Satine nodded firmly, “I’ve already got the surrounding volumes.”
“A thorough reader as always, Miss Kryze,” Madame Nu smiled.
While a librarian in a muggle library would research the book via a computer, Madame Nu had access to the compendium, which was a rather large enchanted book that automatically documented every book that ever left the library and who it left with. No one fully understood how the spell worked, except that it had something to do with the stamp Madame Nu applied.
The large purple book’s golden pages whirled at rapid speeds as Madame Nu seemed to stare right through it. However, Padmé knew from experience that the woman had the uncommon ability to read at the speed of sound. It must have made studying a breeze during her time at Hogwarts, even if she couldn’t seem to fathom a time where the sage older woman wasn’t standing post behind her desk.
What Padmé had never seen, was the compendium snapping shut as dramatically as it did. Madame Nu seemed quite bothered by this too, jutting out her lip before waving her wand to force the book to open again.
“Is the book overdue?” Satine sounded a bit hopeful at this prospect, and Padmé could picture her utilizing her position of power to goad a student into returning it.
When it snapped shut again, this time sticking its cloth bookmark at her like a tongue before placing itself back on the shelf, Jocasta Nu actually looked dumbfounded. Neither girl had clearly seen the librarian look like that before.
“That… Can’t be right.” She murmured. “We don’t have it.”
“Do you think it was a mistake?” Satine asked, “Like when it went to publishing, they never sent it here and it was overlooked?”
“My records not only log what exists in Hogwarts, but anything that has been released in the wizarding community. According to the compendium, the book never existed.” She said with a frown and carefully picked up volumes 18 and 20 to inspect them, “Perhaps, there was a misprint that went unnoticed?”
“That can’t be,” Satine objected, “Volume 18 leaves off with the announcement of the last TriWizard Tournament.”
“And Volume 20 mentions nothing about it,” Padmé added.
Looking between both girls, Madame Nu was visibly troubled by this. The longer she was silent, the more concerned Padmé grew. While on the surface this didn’t sound incredibly monumental, encrypted magical items weren’t wrong, especially those as old as the compendium. It would be like accusing the sorting hat for inaccuracy.
“I will investigate this matter more, girls,” She lifted the banister of her stand and snapped it shut behind her with purpose, “And get back to you with what I find. Surely, this is all just a mix-up of epic proportions.”
When they exited the library and began to head towards their respective common rooms, Satine finally spoke up again, “That was rather curious.”
“The compendium doesn’t mess up on its own,” Padmé said, “It’s made of old magic. My family has one like it, but every time a new person is born in our country, their name is added to the book along with their lineage.”
“Yes, I do believe I read that the Ministry had something similar for magical children,” Satine bit her lip and kept her azure gaze forward, “Something doesn’t feel right. The Hogwarts Library has just about everything known to print. Why skip one volume of its history, no less?”
“And why wouldn’t Jocasta Nu of all people know about it?” Padmé asked.
“She’s not 100 years old, Padmé,” Satine said and Padmé felt her face go red, “But if there’s one thing I’ve learned these past few years, it is that nothing is by accident around here.”
Detention was, as always, very boring.
It was even more boring without Anakin to pass the time by. This was the first time Rex had ever endured detention alone, and it was all the more uncomfortable with his brother not talking to him. Though he doubted that anyone who didn’t know Ninety-Nine would notice, the groundskeeper was quite stiff as he gathered trash off the front lawn. The Durmstrang boys had unsurprisingly thrown quite the bash the evening before and did not take care to clean up after themselves.
Though Rex found this added fuel to the fire of his discontent towards the eastern students, he knew better than to raise his point now. It seemed Ninety-Nine didn’t care to hear it, not anymore, and had developed this idea that he didn’t need help dealing with this matter. It wasn’t much different to Rex’s own desire not to be helped first year, save for the fact that Rex had actually partaken in stopping Krell the first time.
Wouldn’t that make him an ideal candidate this time as well?
He huffed, wondering not for the first time that damp evening why they couldn’t just use magic to gather all the rubbish, but decided against having to sit through a rant about responsibility and the merit of hard work. Besides, he was always hesitant to bring the subject of magic up to his brother, considering he didn’t have the same options as Rex.
So, he continued to use the sharp pick given to him to help stab stray pieces of garbage and place them in the burlap sack he had to drag around. He knew a charm on how to make it lighter, but didn’t bother with that either, afraid that Ninety-Nine might take offense.
“I’ll get the bunch down the hill,” He muttered and took his brother’s silence as acceptance before trotting down the way to the bottom of the lawn, “Filthy Durmstrang douchebags.”
He wasn’t down there for long, practically obscured by night and the howling wind around him, which made his present job a bit more difficult, before he noticed a few individuals standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
From a distance, it was difficult to see, including with the beginnings of what was likely a rainstorm whipping in his vision. He placed a hand on top of his brow, trying to squint to see better, before looking over his shoulder to notice Ninety-Nine distracted by cleaning something gross off the castle wall.
He took his opportunity and trotted through the mud and did his best not to trip. He did use magic to cause the wind to work in his favor in blowing the trash into the sack he still carried tightly in one fist. What his brother didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, after all.
Though he wouldn’t be able to get close enough to hear without being spotted, he did get to a decent distance where he could at least vaguely recognize who was standing just at the clearing of the forest. Yoda was amongst them, as well as Nala Se and a man dressed in all furs. This had to be the stand-in from Durmstrang, seeing as Ziro wasn’t allowed on the premises at the moment. Leading them was a pair of representatives for the Minister as well as the scorekeepers for the tournament.
All were fairly inconspicuous- not dressed in their normal robes and instead opting for dark slickers that might help shield some of the incoming rain. If he hadn’t been where he was, he never would have noticed them standing there at all.
They stood there for a moment, talking amongst themselves before vanishing through the trees.
What were they doing at this time of night? Going into the forest of all places?
To Rex, there was only one valid possibility: they had to be charting land for the final task. The third task was still shrouded in mystery, just as the previous two were. This one would be taking place on property just as the others, and would somehow be more difficult than the previous two.
He swiped rain from his eyes and kept staring, waiting for something, anything to happen as his body battled against the wet wind. Just as he began to lose hope, his eyes trailed up to the sky, where storm clouds rumbled in dark agitation. Right above the tops of the dark pine trees, was a faint tint of blue smoke swirling up and colliding with the clouds. Then, a bright flash of light, so quick that if he’d taken the time to rub his eyes again, he wouldn’t have seen it.
And like that, they were outside of the forest again.
“A portkey,” He murmured.
“Rex?” A shout from up the hill called his attention. He turned and through the thick curtain of rain he spotted Ninety-Nine, trying not to slip down a mudslide in hopes of reaching him. Rex saved him the trouble and scampered back up the hill.
“The third task is going to be in the forbidden forest,” He said gleefully, spitting out any rain that dripped into his mouth.
“What?”
“The professors! They’re testing out a portkey in the forest, I saw them! I have to tell Anakin.”
Ninety-Nine glanced over, though from this high up, he no doubt couldn’t see them. Rex wouldn’t be surprised if they’d tried the trick again.
“Let’s leave them to it then!” Ninety-Nine said, “I’m far more concerned with drowning out here.”
“That was quite the rainstorm last night, wasn’t it?” Anakin whistled as he took his seat next to Rex at breakfast. He narrowed his eyes when he noticed that while the rest of Padmé’s troop was present and ready across from them, the girl in question wasn’t there.
“Padmé had a few errands to run that necessitated an early start,” Explained Sabé. Her face remained neutral and still, making the silent point that she would not be divulging the specifics of Padmé’s absence.
“Errands? What? Does she have to pick up her dry cleaning?” Anakin teased, though this comeback only received a confused response, even from Rex, “Does dry cleaning not exist?”
“Most people use water to clean their clothes, mate,” Rex said in disgust, “For your suits, you just spell them clean.”
“It’s a thing muggles do to their clothes.” Anakin said, running a hand through his hair, “And it costs money, which is stupid.”
“That is stupid,” Sabé agreed.
“But come on, you can tell us,” Anakin said, “I’m like a vault of secrets.”
“Yeah, okay, Sky talker ,” Rabé cocked an eyebrow at him.
“How original, do you go to Sebulba for all your material?” He retorted. “I can keep a secret.”
“It’s really not that deep anyway,” Saché said, taking a bit of pity on him, “Though if it were, you do tend to talk rather… Loudly.”
“None of you know about Rex’s weird birthmark!” Anakin said defensively and slapped an arm around his friend’s shoulders, “I’ve kept that deep inside the sanctum of my mind.”
All of the girls looked to Rex instead of Anakin with a combination of vague disgust and intrigue and he could feel Rex’s glare on him as he shrugged off his arm.
“Thanks a lot, mate.” He grumbled.
“Well, they don’t know it’s on your-”
“-That’s enough!” Rex hissed, slapping a hand over Anakin’s mouth to physically restrain him from saying anything.
“It’s girl stuff,” Eirtaé added and both boys cringed, not wanting any more details beyond that.
“Okay, yeah, nevermind,” Anakin shook his head, though he had to admit he was a bit disappointed to not be afforded the opportunity to relay what Rex had told him the previous night about the third task, “But she’s missing out! Rex and I are going to try and practice dueling spells near the Forbidden Forest. I know it sounds dangerous, but-”
“-Good luck, because the Forest is strictly off limits right now,” Yané explained without looking up from her book, “Roped off with a protective charm no doubt.”
“Why?” Anakin asked, even if he and Rex looked at each other a bit knowingly.
“Rumor has it someone went missing in the forest. All that was found was a Ministry badge. They’re thinking it was the work of a mysterious beast,” Rabé added and shook her head.
That, Anakin did not know and he could feel Rex’s foot sharply kicking into his ankle. Apparently, whatever tests that Rex had witnessed had not gone according to plans.
“The… Zillo Beast?” Anakin wondered.
“Maybe, who knows? But if there’s one thing we aren’t doing today, it’s traversing the forest.” Sabé shook her head, “And considering your penchants for bad luck, I’d say you should do the same.”
“I have another round of detention anyway,” Rex wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin beside him, “And though my brother is bloody pissed at me, I’d say he’d be angrier if I got ripped apart.”
“Maybe… I’ll attend one of those Defense Against the Dark Arts study sessions for a change,” Anakin cleared his throat, “You know, to prepare for any possible Zillo Beast returns.”
“You going to face Kenobi?” Rex asked, surprised.
“It’s got to be better than getting eaten alive,” Anakin said, “And if Padmé weren’t… Presently occupied with her girl stuff, I’d say she would agree.”
There were certain privileges that came to having not only pureblood ties, but royal pureblood ties. Satine had never witnessed them used for good before, so it was refreshing to know that in the presence of Padmé Amidala, that they always were. To that end, it meant that the girls could take a trip off Hogwarts property to further their investigation from the night before.
“Where’s Obi-Wan? I’m surprised he isn’t coming.” Padmé asked as they walked down the cobblestone path of Diagon Alley.
Obi-Wan had more than enough going on to follow Satine and Padmé down a potential rabbit hole investigation. He would never believe so, as he always had the nasty habit of stretching himself too thin, but Satine didn’t want to loop him in too much until she had concrete belief that this would be pertinent information. She’d feel a bit foolish if this was truly a big misunderstanding.
“He’s teaching one of his secret DADA classes,” Satine said with a shrug, “He was up and at ‘em long before I rose this morning. I left him a letter in the common room so he doesn’t alert the media.”
Not that Satine wasn’t perfectly capable of doing things on her own. However, she did almost break into his parents’ manor under the belief that he had been held prisoner simply because he missed the train. The year before, Obi-Wan had worked himself into a fit when she’d been late due to getting her driver’s license.
Perhaps, they were both a bit dramatic in their own right, though Satine would argue they’d experienced enough danger to warrant such concerns.
“It’s just as well, I didn’t want Anakin getting his sticky fingers everywhere,” Padmé said, “He has a tendency to poke his nose where it doesn’t belong.”
Satine laughed, “If we find anything useful, we’ll tell them. Thank you for bringing me along, by the way.”
“Are you kidding?” Padmé twirled the pink umbrella in her hand, “If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be doing this.”
“I know you meant that as a compliment, but let’s save that until after we’re done here,” Satine chuckled. The two girls headed into the Daily Prophet’s Main Office- a place Satine had never been inside despite all of her years coming in and out of Diagon Alley. You needed specific magical clearance to enter, even if from the inside, it actually just looked like a regular office space. There was ample lighting thanks to hanging and mounted bulbs, showcasing a long stretch of desks of various heights and levels. She couldn’t tell what color the walls were supposed to be, since there wasn’t an inch of space not covered in breakthrough articles of the past, dating back several centuries. The building had two floors: the main floor dedicated to the office workers, who put the paper together, and the upstairs had a golden plaque for the reporters and the editor in chief.
It was a tad chaotic, yes, with a bunch of Ugnaughts running around with large stacks of paper, trying to meet deadlines and complete research for the reporters. Not a single one looked up from their pursuits or from the busy clacking of fingers on typewriters. Quills moved at their own discretion with the ugnaughts often snorting to try and relay what they wanted to say. Expectedly, it smelled like parchment, glue, and thick ink.
“We’re looking for Onaconda Farr.” Padmé moved to ask one of the nearest ugnaughts, who looked a bit disturbed at first before throwing down his quill and skittering to the way back of the first floor, down a set of stairs.
“Well, I hope we aren’t causing too much of a disturbance,” Satine said, eyeing the page he was piecing together. It seemed the Kenobi’s were calling for Yoda to put Ninety-Nine and Tahl on trial by combat.
How medieval.
She looked behind her, feeling for a moment she was being watched through the window. Within the blink of an eye a hooded figure passed and kept walking. Satine felt a chill go down her spine and inched farther from the entrance.
However, Onaconda Farr, dressed in green flowy trousers that were tucked into high black books and a fashionable long purple overcoat, emerged from the lower level, arms outstretched as he greeted Padmé.
“Uncle Ono!” She grinned and did a little jump into his arms.
Satine had almost forgotten about the nickname, because she was about to ask a series of questions as to how that even worked. She was already impressed that Farr had high enough standings with the Daily Prophet to get them in.
“It is good to see you, Padmé,” He smiled, “How are mum and dad?”
“Busy as always,” She blew out a breath.
“That’s where you get it from,” He poked her on the nose and then his starry gaze drifted to Satine.
“You remember Satine Kryze, right Ono?”
“Of course! I’ve only been out of school for a year, after all!” He laughed and reached out a green webby hand for Satine to shake. She didn’t hesitate and offered him a kind smile. “From what I’ve seen through the eyes of a printer, it’s been a busy year for you, Satine.”
“That’s a bit of an understatement,” She chuckled, “Congratulations on your success here, though! Straight out of Hogwarts and right into the Prophet? It’s almost unheard of.”
“When you know people, it’s a bit easier,” He waved for them to follow her.
“My parents got him the internship,” Padmé whispered as they passed down the steps, “But he got promoted to editor of politics faster than any grunt intern in history.”
Satine nodded, impressed, but also a bit confused. She’d never been in the adult working world, much less the wizarding rendition, but that did seem incredibly fast. However, she couldn’t complain about it now, as an intern would never be able to introduce them to the gigantic steel safe that was posted against a stone wall in the basement.
“Padmé mentioned that you’re trying to find a lost book,” Farr said over his shoulder.
“Yes, it appears that Hogwarts: A History vol. 19 has all but vanished from records at Hogwarts.”
“Really?” He pursed his green lips, “I’ve never heard of a book that existed that wasn’t at Hogwarts.”
“That’s what we thought,” Padmé said, “But you see, there’s a volume 18 and a volume 20…”
“And the two books don’t connect with each other,” Satine pulled both books out of her purse with relative ease. She did love the extra storage that magic allowed for. She flipped to the end of volume 18 and the beginning of volume 20.
Volume 18 trailed off with the announcement of the monumental final TriWizard Tournament coming that following school year and then, of course, an author’s note immediately afterwards in dedication to the Headmaster at the time: Pra-Tre Veter. Volume 20, on the other hand literally started with “The banishment of TriWizard Tournaments from henceforth severely limited the union between neighboring wizard schools across Europe” and went into the burgeoning bad feelings from the likes of the Hutt’s.
“This is strange,” He said, “I didn’t even know Hogwarts: A History had that many volumes.”
“They’re not advertised as light or moderate reading beyond volume 5.” Satine shrugged, “They’re actually guarded for some of their graphic subject matter.”
“The perks of being Head Girl, I suppose,” He said lightly, “Let me take a look at the book columns of the Daily Prophet articles. They’ve reported every book that’s ever been published.”
It was true, the Daily Prophet, though containing some dribble thanks to biased reporters, did have a handy column that released a list of all published works on a weekly basis. It certainly allowed for Satine to stay on top of current reading materials. It covered all subjects and genres, which she appreciated for its diversity.
“Madame Nu told me today that it must have never been officially released,” Padmé said with a frown, “She seemed weirdly put off by it too, especially when mentioned that it would cover the last TriWizard tournament before this one.”
“Perhaps, we can start there, Ono?” Satine asked, “I do believe that is the crux of what we wish to know. We’ve both got a vested interest in figuring out this tournament and that everyone makes it out alive.”
“I’m sure you do,” He smiled knowingly, “And because I thought this might all be concerning the tournament, I’d already gone to the liberty of pulling out all the papers of TriWizard past.”
In his office, which wasn’t any more or less impressive than any office worker’s save for its privacy, was a large stack of newspapers.
Carefully, Padmé and Satine ran their fingers along the spine, narrowing their eyes to get a better glance in an attempt of finding what they were looking for. Finally, Satine came across the final tournament and slipped it from the rest of the stack.
“Only one paper was released?” Padmé asked Farr.
“So it would seem,” He hummed, “If it wasn’t an eventful year-”
“-It was banned for a reason,” Satine said. “Evidently, the tournament was finally deemed too barbaric for the participants of actual children.”
“Something major had to have happened if that truly is the case,” He said. “They didn’t have the safety practices we do now. Or laws. Or really care to have the laws.”
“Strange,” Satine frowned as she flipped through the paper. It mentioned the three tasks and what they meant. The final one took place in the Forbidden Forest, and while it had ended with a winner, one one of the champions had died. The winner, Hogwarts’ chosen champion, was a Slytherin boy named Anwir Cosinga.
And the boy who died…
“Hogwarts’ champion died,” Satine said in awe.
“What?” Padmé’s eyes widened and she nearly snatched the newspaper from Satine’s fingers. Farr made an uneasy sound from the back of his throat, indicating that he was uncomfortable at the prospect of any damages. “How can you die and win?”
“Perhaps, it was as a result of complications?” Satine wondered aloud, “It says here that the champions were all still recovering from the trauma they faced in the forest. Durmstrang’s couldn’t even speak afterwards.”
“The death would have to be pretty monumental for them to ban the tournament afterwards,” Farr said and then ran his finger along the papers again to retrieve one from four years later. “Here’s the issue where the tournament was indefinitely canceled.”
“Until now,” Satine muttered and she did her best to read with haste and scrutiny. The article sounded a bit biased in the sense that the reporter clearly did not agree with the cancellation of future tournaments. They seemed quite pressed that the civil suits that had been ongoing for years had finally won out in courts and that the negative publicity seemed to eat right into the hands of those who hated tradition.
Most of it included legal jargon, including the parameters of the banning. Satine was intrigued to note that the matter was set to be revisited in a century’s time, which was exactly where they were now.
It also said-
“Wait, that’s weird,” Satine frowned, “It says that the removal of the tournament is borderline sacrilegious and insulting to the Kim family, as it was a challenge their son proudly participated in.”
“Seems a bit manipulative to use the victim to support your platform,” Padmé said.
“No, I mean, that wasn’t the kid’s name. The winner, anyway,” And then Satine looked at the other newspaper in curiosity. The article about the champion’s death was purposefully vague as though it had seen many revisions that forbade it from being too specific. She couldn’t be entirely mad about this, as sometimes muggle newspapers were this way when investigators didn’t have the full story and didn’t want public speculation to get out of hand.
“There weren’t three participants that year,” She said with sudden clarity. “There were four.”
“Just like this year.” Padmé shivered.
“And one of them died.” Satine furrowed her brow.
“That’s really peculiar,” Ono mused, pulling out a few earlier papers from different decades, “The Prophet has never been known to be so vague. See, the death of a champion was known to be great for business and a good opportunity to really highlight the life of the child.”
“That is an incredibly tragic sentence,” Satine said, “But yes, I see what you’re referring to. Not to mention the book column doesn’t state anything about the release of vol. 19 of Hogwarts: A History.”
“There is a little bit of room at the bottom of the book column though,” Padmé pointed out. “Just enough where another title would usually fit.”
“Interesting… But if it were published and distributed-” Farr said thoughtfully, before snapping his fingers and leading them over to the large vault behind them. Swishing his wand in what seemed to be random directions while quietly uttering a code neither girl could catch, he swung open the heavy door and directed them to a grandiose library that stacked several stories up.
“Welcome to the archives.”
“Wow,” Satine still didn’t know how it worked, especially when they’d only gone down two flights of stairs, but she didn’t dare question it.
“While we are always sure to show everything we print, that only scrapes the surface,” Farr explained, his orb-like eyes taking in the entirety of the room, “Every unprinted and unreleased paper is here, including articles we trash before they even reach the editor’s eyes.”
“Doesn’t that make for a lot of clutter?” Satine asked, though she was finding her answer in the sheer enormity of the collection. It seemed to be well kept, but she could only imagine how meaningless some of the drafts were. It was as if every idea of a human’s mind had been cataloged forever.
“Where you might see clutter, I see history,” He said before hurrying up a rounded staircase and across a platform to the bookshelf he had in mind, “You see, the Daily Prophet goes through revisions and it must be approved by the chief editor before it is published and distributed.”
“Has it ever been published but never distributed?” Padmé asked.
“The only way that can happen is if the possibility of a defamation suit is at play,” Farr said, “Or other legal trouble that can occur. Even back then, the Aurors and the lawyers were always thirsting to leap at the free press.”
“So much for free,” Padmé said.
“Here it is!” He exclaimed after finally finding what he was looking for. He retrieved a binder, which Satine was pleased to see looked quite organized with tabs and all. Some wizards did know how to color code, it would seem. Despite his previous concern for the newspapers, he tossed the binder over the side of the railing and into Satine’s arms. She caught it, not without losing a bit of air, but she wasted no time in pouring through it.
“A lot more goes into a newspaper than you’d think,” He said, “Or shall I say, a lot doesn’t go into the newspaper.”
With a smoothness Satine hadn’t expected, Ono slid down the railing until he deemed it safe enough to leap off, landing firmly on his feet.
“If that book was actually released, it would be somewhere in here,” He said, “Not to mention, more details about what happened to that poor champion.”
Satine, personally, couldn’t begin reading fast enough. She hadn’t even waited for Ono to finish before she flipped through the now-laminated pages. Mentally, she made the note to ask what the spell for lamination even was, as this would be good to know for her own binders. There were a lot of handwritten notes and key details, though some were extremely hard to read from years gone by and from the legibility. There were a few photos, all black and white of the four champions. None were particularly impressive to look at.
A boy named Vidar Kim, a Ravenclaw and Head Boy, was the victim that suffered an untimely fate. According to the notes written in the margins, he was found in the shrieking shack of all places. They believe that he was murdered, but seeing as the other champions had the airtight alibis of literally being interviewed for several hours beforehand, they’ve ruled out the motive of it being any of his competitors. Not to mention, Kim wasn’t even in the lead, not by a wide margin. Nobody stood to gain from his loss.
On top of that, it seemed that despite there being four champions, they all got on pretty well.
“Anwir Cosinga won the tournament, but donated his winnings to the Kim family for their time of mourning. He even had the trophy mounted into Kim’s gravestone.” Padmé read, “It seems like based on some of these letters between them that they were close.”
“The Durmstrang champion, Satele Shan, fasted for months and performed a traditional march and battle cry at the funeral.” Satine said, “It says that she spoke very few words, but that she was heartbroken by his loss.”
“Beauxbatons champion, Nadia Grell, was allegedly dating him and couldn’t stop crying to even do an interview,” Padmé sighed, “Oh, how sad. Could you imagine going through all of that stress watching from the sidelines, helpless to any danger that might come their way, only to find that the person you love most gets axed off stage?”
“I… really don’t want to?” Satine said.
“Oh! No, no that won’t happen,” The brunette shook her head so hard that the perfectly curated ringlets that rain down her back swished like rustling leaves. She cleared her throat, “But still, if they believe the poor guy was murdered, who did it?”
“There are a lot of angry scribbles here,” Satine pointed and noted that the word “parents” was crossed off a few times over as a potential source to go through. “I wonder if there’s a reason it’s not mentioned.”
“Maybe they didn’t know at the time,” Ono said.
“Wait a second,” Satine pulled the binder closer to her and read the bottom corner of the page that dictated potential leads. “Hogwarts: A History vol. 19. It was real and from the sounds of it, a decent source on this investigation. Everything, it sounds like, was poured into that book.”
It was true. Even the reporter at the time seemed to know that the history books had a cornerstone on this ugly chunk of memories, including the dirty details of the case. However, there did seem to be the initial expectation that it would eventually hit the public too.
Although, what Satine also found incredibly startling, was the picture of her old DADA professor posed quite stiffly with a copy of the book in his hands.
“Dooku!” Gasped Padmé.
“There’s no way he’s that old,” Satine said, “It has to be a relative.”
“His father,” Confirmed Ono, instantly finding the biographical article he needed, “See? He was a Slytherin. The Dooku we know and loathe was a Ravenclaw.”
“Rather unfortunate.” Satine muttered, “But this does raise some interesting questions, doesn’t it?”
“But clearly most of this information never saw the light of day,” Padmé leaned back, “Which I feel is strange since the Ministry went to the lengths of banning the tournament and by the sounds of it, commemorating the family. What are they hiding?”
“See, that’s where you’re partially wrong, Padmé,” Ono said, “You see, if that were the case, the knowledge of such a book wouldn’t be anticipated by reporters. It wouldn’t have even been sent to print. Not to mention, they would have named the following edition volume 19 to erase any suspicion.”
“You think it did release?” Satine frowned, “But why wouldn’t Jocasta Nu know about it? And why isn’t it in the compendium?”
“I’d really like to say that pieces of history haven’t been redacted in the past.” He said, “That’s why I like it here. These are all safe thoughts. Most don’t even know this place exists. You actually can’t physically remove anything from this little sanctum. Otherwise, it evaporates and places itself right where it belongs.”
“Which makes it safer than most places,” Padmé said, “But what we do know, is that wherever that book is, there’s a reason for its disappearance.”
“And since Dooku is trying to shape his own narrative, I wouldn’t be surprised if whatever lies within it, is damning against him somehow.” Satine said, “The Sith probably killed that poor boy. It was just a cover-up that the Ministry went along with in order to make it all more digestible.”
“They didn’t do that with Maul the first time.” Padmé said.
“Maul committed mass murder in public, it would be a bit hard to disguise that.” Satine said, “And even still, they tried to act as though it was an isolated issue up until the bitter end when Maul literally laid claim to it. The only reason Dooku is being labeled Sith is because he was ousted.”
She was getting angrier the more she thought of it, especially as she flipped through witness statements that claimed all the champions were feeling a lot of unusual pressure from outside sources and that they kept swearing to see shadows and phantoms in the midst of the night. Anwir Cosinga even mentioned something about kids being victims to attack from other students who’d started their own renditions of death eaters. The final task, they all claimed, was clearly rigged with traps that tried to kill them even more than previously. It was all horrifying.
Some even believed that there may have been intervention from outside sources. Even parents, as the Kim family was quite vocal on their son’s poor performance in the tournament.
“That sounds familiar.” Satine said sadly.
“I wonder if anyone else knows about any of this,” Padme said.
“Very few are even still alive from that era,” Farr commented. “Ancestors, maybe.”
“Professor Yaddle might know something as well.” Padme said, “I think we should pay them a visit when we return.”
“I genuinely hope your pursuit of knowledge yields to useful results, girls,” Ono said thoughtfully, “Because I can say this to be certain: whatever the reason is for this book going missing, it cannot be good. Especially if you believe there might be cheating at large.”
“They’re ignoring the clear signs of subterfuge against Ben.” Satine said stiffly as she closed the book. “Except we cannot allow history to repeat itself.”
“No,” Padmé said, “We can’t.”
After they finished reading additional notes and loose ends on the long lost tournament, Satine and Padme thanked Farr and went on their merry way, feeling as though they were now riddled with even more questions than answers.
“I bet the final task is correlated to that in the book,” Satine said as she fought against the wind that charged towards them through Diagon Alley. Padme struggled to keep up, moving her legs rapidly in wide strides.
“You think?” Padme asked.
“I think there’s a reason for all of this.” Satine said, “The book, the sabotage, the murder! There’s too many coincidences at play to be solely that.”
She stuck out her hand for Padme to take it so they could apparate back. However, before the younger girl could, a flurry of darkness- like a rustling swarm of bats- swept around them. When her eyes refocused, Mr. Kenobi stood tall and domineering before them.
“Not so fast,” He said, sticking out a large gloved hand, “Digging into matters that don’t concern you yet again?”
“Stay away,” Satine took a step back. From the corners of her eyes, she could make out Padme’s confused expression.
“Now, now, no need to be rude,” He said, “I’ve only come to chat.”
“I’m not interested in anything you’ve got to say,” Maybe it was all the reading about the Kim’s and how they pressured their Ravenclaw Head Boy to the brink shortly before his untimely death, but she truly did not have the patience for the likes of the Kenobi’s today.
“I am not the enemy here, Satine Kryze,” He said and part of her was shocked he’d managed to get her name correct. Whether or not that was meant to be a sign of respect or of fear mongering, she didn’t know. Neither were felt from her end, however. “The Hutt’s however…”
“You seemed quite chummy with them when you were asking them to feed me to the fishes,” Or whatever lies beneath Jabba’s barge. “Or when one of their skugs came after us in Knockturn Alley.”
“I cannot be responsible for the actions of my… Associates.” He smiled and it was a sickly thing to behold- not one that ever held kindness or empathy, “However, you are responsible for your own actions and how they might affect Obi-Wan’s life.”
“Believe me when I say I am not the one endangering his life,” She scoffed, “Not as though you care.”
He narrowed his eyes, “Don’t be so naive, girl. We both know that after your little stunt, that many are unhappy. Myself included, yes, but many far more influential than I. Times are changing and perhaps not how you would like it.”
“I think we’re done here,” Padme said, positioning herself between Satine and Mr. Kenobi.
“You’re a fool to align yourself with the likes of loathsome commoners, Miss Amidala. I’ve always had great respect for your parents, so I will offer you the courtesy of rethinking your priorities.”
“I’d say they’re in proper order, thanks.” Padme said.
“If you think you’ll be able to carry on with these ominous threats and stalking trends, you’ll find yourself sadly mistaken,” Satine promised, “And whatever your involvement is with this tournament and its outcome, I’ll be sure to find out. And when I do, you nor the press will ever hear the end of it.”
She grabbed Padme by the wrist and dragged her down the street, relieved they weren’t being followed.
“Enjoy your time with him while you have it, Miss Kryze,” Mr. Kenobi said with hollow regret, “I feel as though you’ve scarcely limited it.”
This time, when Satine tried to apparate, they were not absolved in the pitiful cloud that was the cursed Kenobi family. She breathed out a heavy sigh and met Padme’s concerned brown eyes with what she hoped to be complete calm.
“My mother always told me that in-laws can be tough,” She blew out another breath for effect, “But they do take it to extremes.”
Before the younger girl could comment, Anakin came rushing up to them, a wide sense of panic in his eyes.
“Where have you been?” He asked desperately, “You’ve got to come help!”
“What’s wrong?” Satine asked, her pulse racing yet again at the thought of what Obi-Wan’s father had so eerily said, “Is it Ben?”
“Yeah! Gunray’s got him busted for teaching DADA!” Anakin shrieked, “He might be getting expelled!”
“What the hell did you do?” Padmé had immediately fired off at Anakin the moment he’d announced his former mentor’s imminent doom in the eyes of the education bureau.
“Why does everyone always assume I did anything?” He complained, but immediately backed down when Padmé fixed him with a warning glare that promised she would not be patient with this one. “Okay, it was an accident.”
The irritated sigh from the fourth year girl could have knocked over trees with its power, but he couldn’t say he blamed her, especially since he was busy blaming himself. Satine for her part, was far more concerned in charging ahead to get to Obi-Wan than she was in Anakin’s relation to this. He directed them towards the Headmaster’s office, though he doubted either girl really needed the tip, as it was the most logical place to start.
“You’d both be proud of me, I was planning on going to one of the secret DADA meetings today to pass the time. You know since you abandoned me and Rex has detention.” Off the even less amused look she gave, he came to the conclusion that his attempt for sympathy hadn’t landed the way he’d hoped.
He took a breath, “Anyway, I was on my way there when I ran into Gunray. I don’t know if either of you heard, but there was a beast spotted in the Forbidden Forest last night by some of the scouts for the tournament. Gunray and the Headmasters were with them and apparently something really bad happened. Rex was scooping up trash near Ninety-Nine’s hut when he saw them, even if that’s a pretty big waste of time when magic exists and they could easily-”
“-The abridged version, Anakin.” Padmé said hurriedly as they increased their strides. Satine, being taller than the both of them, utilized her long legs to her advantage and was several paces ahead. Padmé, however, was giving Anakin a run for his money with her own hurried strut.
“I stopped to talk to Gunray and then he found out about Obi-Wan’s DADA meetings.”
“Not that abridged.” Satine called back.
Oh, apparently, she was listening. He guessed if she was preparing to storm into battle for her boyfriend, she ought to know the facts.
“Gunray wasn’t interested in talking Zillo beasts, which I thought it might have been. Dooku did take some of my blood two years ago and I’d really like it back, you know? Anyway, he was more keen on discussing my final project that my entire grade weighs on. He tried to give me an out, but I didn’t take it, because I know I’m going to show him up in front of the class, even if I don’t know how per say. Well, when I thought we parted ways, he must have tailed me somehow, because he showed up not five minutes later.”
“That’s it?” Padmé asked. “He followed you?”
“Yeah, but I kept looking around and he wasn’t there,” Anakin still didn’t know how that happened. He was always paranoid about being followed, especially ever since Dooku kidnapped him that very same time he took his blood. There had to be some trick afoot that he hadn’t been privy too, but he still felt guilty. “And he made a big stink of it too, bringing the minister into it too.”
“The Minister is here?” Satine asked gravely. “That can’t be good.”
“Yeah and they’re even accusing Obi-Wan of charging for the tutoring sessions, which while genius, doesn’t seem like his style at all,” Anakin said, “He always said learning was the reward when we studied together.”
“It is,” Satine said, “Ben would never charge anyone for his help. I’m not confident he’ll let the Auror’s pay him should he get a position through them after graduation.”
“They can’t expel Obi-Wan for this, can they?” Padmé asked. “Ventress got off for a lot less!”
“Ventress had some very powerful ties,” She said, “Ties that Ben has recently severed.”
To be fair, so has Ventress, but unlike Obi-Wan, she also severed her hair… For better or for worse.
“I should have never gone to that meeting,” Anakin said glumly, “I knew I should have gone to the forest.”
“This doesn’t sound like your fault, Anakin,” Satine assured him once they came to a stop outside the stairwell that led to the Headmaster’s office. “He knew what risks he was taking when he’d intended on starting all of this.”
“It’s Gunray’s fault that this was all necessary,” Padmé argued, though she kept her voice low in case any of the professors could hear them, “He’s the one who can’t even unlock a door.”
“You don’t say?” Anakin crossed his arms.
“I saw him try to levitate a key before to try and put it in the lock, but it flew out the window. No one really had the heart to tell him that’s not how that spell works.”
“If I was in that class I would,” Anakin said, “Dude needs to be brought down a level, especially after this.”
They’d gotten there just in time, because as they approached, the stairs began to unwind and the statue at the base spun until completely unraveled. Obi-Wan stepped down with his hands in the pockets of his robes. Trailing not far behind him was a very weary Minister of Magic and Professor Gunray.
“Thank you for supporting me on this, Minister,” Gunray said, floundering a bit, “The utter disrespect for authority at this school is astounding.”
“Yes, Gunray, the board of education is in support of this curriculum.” Valorum said, eyes dull and barely expressive. “Keep doing what you’re doing.”
“Not teaching us,” Anakin muttered quietly to Padmé, who nudged him gently. Not in disapproval it would seem, because there wasn’t much edge to it. Instead, she just didn’t want anyone else getting in trouble. She was kind in that way.
“That was fast,” Anakin commented, even if it felt strange that these were the first words he’d spoken to Obi-Wan directly since their fight. He shot a glare at the Minister, who looked at him rather confused, probably forgetting all about him again.
“What happened? Is it bad?” Satine asked, clutching Obi-Wan by the shoulders and giving him a little shake.
He nodded and she gasped, placing a hand over her mouth before immediately bouncing into action, “We’ll take them to court! And if that’s not possible, there have been many brilliant minds who never finished primary education. Albert Einstein-”
“-I haven’t been expelled,” Obi-Wan furrowed his brow, “Only Headmaster Yoda has the power to deliver that punishment. This was encouraged by Minister Valorum and Professor Gunray.”
“So, what is it?” Padmé asked.
“My secret DADA classes have henceforth been canceled,” He sighed heavily and pinched his nose, ready to deliver the kicker.
“Oh God, did they sentence you to death?” Anakin asked.
“Anakin!” Satine and Padmé exclaimed at the same time with a matched offense.
Obi-Wan ignored him and breathed out his answer, “And… I’ve been given detention… For two weeks.”
The three of them watched him as he took a seat on the bench outside the office. Anakin had found himself on that very bench quite a few times, though it was always in foreboding for what was to surely be a stern talking to.
“I can’t believe this,” He ran a hand through meticulous hair and shook his head.
But from the sounds of it, Obi-Wan had gotten off pretty easily all things considered. Anakin was given detention for a month by Windu for charming a paper airplane to whiz around his head for the entire duration of class. He hadn’t been running any sort of speakeasy on the side.
“That’s it?” Anakin was the one to ask.
“That’s it?” He echoed, looking rather aghast at Anakin, “This is horrible!”
“You jerk! We thought you were kicked out!” Satine gave him a little shove, nothing hard enough to make him actually move, “You said it was bad! Who cares if your perfect record has been spoiled?”
“It is bad! I don’t care about my record! Do you know how many are going to suffer without the proper resources for defensive education?” He asked. “Not to mention that my detention has to be with Gunray. I'm going to TA his class.”
“You weren’t even given a points reduction!” Anakin exclaimed, “That’s insane! And you got to make money off of it.”
“I didn’t make any money off of it,” He furrowed his brow and looked between them, “Gunray was trying to prove that I did, but I’ve never collected a cent. And I certainly haven’t had anyone on my behalf-”
“-Kenobi!” Hondo boomed as he approached, practically covered in riches, “Hondo has a little something for you and your continued partnership. No offense, Skywalker, but you are just not as profitable these days.”
“Yeah, that’s not offensive at all,” Anakin deadpanned.
“I’m sorry, what?” Obi-Wan launched to his feet, “What are you on about?”
“Kenobi, do not play dumb with Hondo. Hondo got your letter about charging for today’s lesson and sharing the wealth! It was most genius, my friend, even if the detail about alerting Gunray was a bit strange. Though I must say, you played the part exceptionally! If being an Auror doesn’t suit you, perhaps acting can be a backup plan!”
“Hondo, shut up for a moment,” Satine said casually and turned to Obi-Wan, “I’m going to assume you never sent him a letter, right?”
“I’m a terrible actor. Remember when Professor Yaddle forced us to reenact the Night of a Thousand Tears through a play during fourth year?” Obi-Wan asked.
“My eyes might never recover,” She retorted and turned to Hondo, “You need to return that money.”
“What? Kryze! We can cut a deal! Hondo is most generous-”
“-Then generously return it,” Obi-Wan said seriously, “I want no parts of blood money, Hondo and I never have. The whole reason for my classes was to help people, just as I’ve helped you through the years.”
“So, this wasn’t my fault,” Anakin said with a happy sigh, “That’s a relief.”
“Why would this be your fault?” Obi-Wan frowned at him and then suddenly seemed a bit surprised they were talking at all. Almost getting kicked out might do that to a guy.
“No reason,” He shrugged, not in the mood to go into it again, “But for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re not suspended.”
“Thanks,” Obi-Wan’s stern face cracked a bit, almost smiling a little.
“It’s meaningless if we don’t figure out who set you up,” Satine said, ruining the moment before it could really begin. Anakin would have apologized for everything else right then and there, but it would have been awkward with the two girls and especially Hondo standing there. “Do you still have the note, Hondo?”
“Hondo doesn’t save any paper trails, Kryze, you should know that, not even toilet paper trails.”
“That’s… Weird, but okay,” She frowned and looked at Obi-Wan, “Who would stand to benefit from your expulsion?”
“Try Durmstrang AND Beauxbaton.” Padmé said, “I don’t buy into the rivalry, but some people clearly do.”
“We’ll need to perform a full scale interrogation of all parties.” Satine said, “I know we trust Hera and Quinlan, but that doesn’t mean they don’t know anything.”
“We can delegate by age group and likelihood to arrange such a thing,” Padmé suggested.
“Hogwarts shouldn’t be excluded from this,” Obi-Wan said, “I’m sure plenty of purebloods hate me for my recent rebellion.”
“More like emancipation,” Satine said. “But I agree. We should bring Cody in on it too. I’m sure he’d love to put his Quidditch boys to work again.”
“I don’t think it’s that deep,” Anakin said.
“Why do you say that?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Because Pong Krell is standing over there looking pretty smug with his friends,” He pointed out, referring to the Besalisk and his shark-headed compatriots.
“Enjoy your one on one time with Gunray, Kenobi.” Krell grinned, “But I’d watch your back if I were you. I’d hate to see you booted out of the contest.”
“Scared I might win?” Obi-Wan retorted.
“Hardly, seeing as I highly doubt the next task will be solving math equations,” He teased before strutting away in a blaze of glory, even if it likely hadn’t worked out the way he thought it would.
“I’m sick of those guys,” Padmé said.
“Me too,” Anakin said, thinking of Rex and his various woes this year with Krell and how untouchable the arsehole seemed to be.
“That bastard,” Satine gritted and if Obi-Wan hadn’t placed a hand on her shoulder, she likely would have gone over and turned him into a fruit fly or something inferior and pathetically small. She had that scary Head Girl look in her eyes anyway. Anakin never liked to be on the other side of that.
“Oh, Hondo will not stand for this!” Hondo pushed up his sleeves and Anakin was surprised to find that Obi-Wan wasn’t as keen on stopping Hondo. He went in the opposite direction, but who knew what would fall upon the Besalisk for messing with Hondo’s money.
“That’s not going to go well,” Anakin commented.
“Not at all,” Obi-Wan said. “He’ll get what’s coming to him. I’m certain of it.”
They had to go at night in the rain, just as they had been when plotting out the space for the final task. The first had been heavily cultivated by Durmstrang officials, being that their focus was on physical strength. The second had of course been the work of some of Beauxbatons finest, seeing as they were all about mental games with their Veela ways. The final, naturally, was supposed to be carved from Hogwarts’ hands, seeing as they saw themselves as the source of their magic being sourced from their spirit.
Did Palpatine find that to be a load of dither? Sometimes.
Regardless of whatever self-professed mind, body, or spirit from each respective source, he found it quite easy to add in his own touch. These were supposed to be tests, right?
“I hope you’re right about this, Headmaster.” Palpatine said as all four heads of houses joined the Headmaster beyond Hogwarts protective limits. Alongside them, of course, was Ninety-Nine, as this had just as much to do with him as it did any of them. Awaiting on the other side, just outside of the shield, were the unmistakable Hutt’s- Jabba and Ziro alike, posted on top of a handheld chariot, which was supported by 10 very unfortunate Gamorreans. Rotta the Hutt was carried on a small red pillow by a much luckier servant.
There were numerous individuals with cameras as well- both big time and not. Some of them even Palpatine didn’t recognize and he always prided himself on being friendly with the press. Their Quick-Notes-Quills floated alongside them, ready to document whatever was about to happen here.
It was weak.
“Trust me, you must,” Yoda said and nodded at a rather dazed and worn Minister Valorum, who hardly appeared to have his devices about him. This tournament and the drama surrounding it had certainly taken its toll on him. Truly, at this point, Palpatine didn’t care. He’d gotten what he wanted. The ground had been shaken and cracks were made. It was enough to expose the distrust amongst their region.
“After a full month of cowering in the aftermath of your desecration of the almighty Jabba’s grand palace, you finally decide to show face,” Bib Fortuna, Jabba’s spineless twi’lek aid, spoke up, transcribing for the Hutt so all would be able to listen. Judging by their refusal to be lowered, they were setting the obvious precedent that they were on their high horses, looking down on each and everyone of them.
Nobody really knew what was up their little green headmaster’s sleeve, but Palpatine never liked to underestimate the likes of Yoda. He was slippery and more so than he wanted anyone to believe. If he weren’t so foolishly committed to his own morals, Palpatine would have loved to have him as an ally.
“Adhere to a fair trial, we agree,” Yoda said, clutching his little cane between two claw-like hands, and steadfast in his point. Palpatine looked from them to the Hutt’s, knowing that this will not go as such. They were beyond their limits, and though Yoda was powerful and Palpatine was more than he led anyone to believe, the Hutt’s had a strange magic that could render them useless if caught.
“Those were not the terms,” Bib Fortuna spat, not needing to wait for Jabba’s input, “You have had plenty of time to deliberate.”
“Time, I do not need,” Yoda said, “A listening ear, yes.”
Was that a dig at them? Since no one presently representing Durmstrang besides the little thing that lived in Jabba’s naval actually had ears on their heads. It was a choice time for such a comment, but Palpatine left that alone.
“You’re stalling!” Ziro spoke in his usual vibrato. He fanned himself with a fan that matched his purple skin tone as though he might grow faint, “Almighty Jabba, I smell a trap.”
“We’ve come unarmed. We just want to talk,” Professor Windu, who clearly had more knowledge on their plan than others, removed his outer robe and showed them all that they had not come with their wands.
Glancing at his hands, Palpatine considered the fact that he didn’t actually need a wand and that it was much more for show than anything else, but played the part of the weaponless simpleton as he was asked to do. It was idiotic, to let them know that they didn’t have anything to defend themselves, and more so when he found out they weren’t actually set on trapping or attacking the Hutt’s.
Surprisingly, Professor Tahl looked equally miffed by that, claiming that they would need to use everything in their arsenal to defeat the Hutt’s.
Jabba garbled something that Fortuna seemed to agree with, because he nodded his head along to every bit of it before relaying, “Nothing can be said to excuse your raucous behavior at the palace or to forgive the diabolical transgression of kidnapping sir Rotta.”
Little Rotta appeared quite mellow and to himself, mouthing on a slobbery tooka doll that seemed to be fastened from frog scales. His father extended a hand out to tickle where one could assume his chin was, causing him to giggle and squirm.
“That is why we have brought the little angel,” Ziro said, “To face his attackers and see their fates be fulfilled!”
A cheer erupted from the Gamorrean guards that could have been practiced on the way here; it was so unanimous. They waved their pitchforks and axes in the air triumphantly, even if they had little to actually gain beyond being spared of sleeping in the gallows again or perhaps getting to bathe. Considering how showy and cruel the Hutts were, Palpatine wouldn’t put it past them.
“Understand that, I do,” Yoda said, “But innocent, Tahl and Ninety-Nine are.”
“If they were so innocent, you would have brought the true kidnapper to light in order to atone for their crimes,” Fortuna said after Jabba angrily tossed his jar of lizards onto the ground, causing it to crack. Some of the juices sprayed onto Palpatine’s shoes.
Just great.
“We did,” Windu said calmly.
The once celebratory atmosphere shifted and for a moment, all that could be heard was the trickling rain that coursed down wet skin and onto the muddy ground. Apparently, an umbrella could have been perceived as a weapon, so they’d chosen to go without them.
Then again, Palpatine knew from experience that less could be forged into more.
“I don’t see anyone,” Ziro said slowly and turned to his nephew, who was staring emotionlessly at them through large red eyes.
“Bring you a mirror, I should, so then you could see,” Yoda said, breaking the confusing calm that had spread between all of them. It caused them to look to him, even the other representatives from Hogwarts. The cameras of the press flashed and boy did those quills move fast on parchment, but nobody paid them much mind.
But Jabba didn’t look to Yoda, Jabba looked to his uncle, who was presently schooling his features to appear appalled rather than nervous. Did he truly not see this as a possibility in his grand scheme? If he were to acquire a criminal empire, he would need to do better at covering up his own transgressions.
“How dare you?” He roared, not meeting Jabba’s silent gaze and instead turning all of his energy into anger, “I ought to turn you into dust for such talk!”
“Headmaster, you cannot just show up with such wild accusations towards one of the Hutt Family’s own without a grain of evidence,” Fortuna said, clutching his metaphorical pearls at the insinuation.
“Ah, now they like evidence,” Murmured Tahl.
“Of course,” Yoda said with a calm nod, “Ask Rotta, have you?”
“Pardon?” Fortuna asked.
“ This was your defense? To ask the baby?” Ziro started cackling then, likely because he fancied himself safe. “The baby can’t even talk, Yoda!”
Jabba didn’t appear to be too moved by that argument, however, and calmly looked to his son with intrigue. Rotta was still not paying much attention to what was going on and busying himself with his toy.
“I don’t hear any outright denial, Headmaster Ziro,” Windu said. “Nor do I think there is just one way to ask a question.”
“Jabba would never believe me to betray my precious little Rotta-bug!” Ziro said, “I have been entrusted with his care and estate for as long as he’s been alive.”
No one exactly knew how old that was, to be fair. Some lived longer lifetimes than others.
“Convenient, that motive is,” Yoda said, “Doing our job for us, you are.”
“Not to mention your various betting schemes that resulted in bankruptcy of your own school,” Tahl spoke up again, feeling the need to stand her own ground. After all, it was she and Ninety-Nine who were to be shipped off to Azkaban if this didn’t go well. “With Rotta out of the way, you would stand to inherit everything.”
That seemed to startle Jabba a great deal. Ah, the feeling of being betrayed by someone just under your nose. It was something Palpatine hoped to be on the correct side of one day.
“Alleged!” Ziro said, “And silence, wench, as you are merely trying to deflect the blame onto me, which is foolish since Jabba knows-”
“Hand je doe nyee.” He rumbled and without translating, Fortuna did as he was told and removed Rotta from his pillow, stirring him from whatever mindless game he was playing and handed him over to Jabba.
“Jabba, what are you doing?” Laughed Ziro, a bit on edge.
“Jee-jee will stuka coo doe nyee favors.” He said broadly and held the little Hutt above his head for all to see and to likely grab a few good pictures.
“We will see who the boy favors,” Fortuna said, “And who he fears or is upset by will be the revealed kidnapper.”
“Is this necessary? What happened to family? What happened to trust?” Ziro cried.
Jabba ignored him, though, having clearly enough suspicion in Ziro to at the very least try. They were without weapons and had practically nothing to lose at this point. They were at Jabba’s mercy, but there was something wrong here and he knew it. Wordlessly, he beckoned Tahl and Ninety-Nine forward and rather bravely held out his son to them.
He went without hesitation, even snuggling into Tahl’s embrace.
“It’s good to see you, my friend,” She smiled, “I’m glad you’re safe.”
“Indeed,” Ninety-Nine grinned when Rotta easily went to him next, giggling and laughing when he received a hug. “That’s all that truly matters.”
“Are you really buying all of this? Clearly, they’ve got the kid tricked!” Ziro argued.
Jabba actually seemed as moved as a Hutt could be at the scene. Rotta, despite coming from one of the foulest creatures known to man, was quite soft for two Hogwarts staff members. They’d apparently kept him safe when he needed it.
When the time came for Rotta to go to Ziro, however, his mood changed dramatically. In fact, one would suspect that they were committing great acts of torture on the little Huttlet as he writhed and squirmed, trying to avoid any and all contact with Ziro. He practically clawed his way back into his father’s embrace, shivering at haunting memories.
“Tell you what you need to know, that does,” Yoda said, breaking the silence, “Let you handle this how you want, I will.”
“Jabba, he’s just confused! I swear! Give me the stupid brat again and we’ll try-” He didn’t even get the words out before a loud crack caused them all to bend and cover their ears. When they looked up, Ziro had been pushed to the ground, narrowly crushing the surrounding reporters, and Jabba had his own wand pointed in his face.
“Ziro Tiiure, you will suffer the crime of kidnapping, deceit, and treason to the highest count,” Fortuna said aloud. “Your brains will be turns to goo and your insides will be used to produce jelly.”
And surprisingly, Yoda led them all back up the hill calmly, offering only a nod of mutual understanding with Jabba before doing so. Ninety-Nine and Tahl, who were quite stricken with relief, practically ran their way back as free individuals.
“Finished here, we are,” Yoda said, “Focus on the tournament now, we will.”
“And more importantly, deciding whether we’re going to listen to what the Minister told you.” Windu murmured quietly, but not quiet enough for Palpatine to miss.
It was going to be delectable .
Obi-Wan had always considered detention to be one of the worst things that could happen to him, just short of being expelled of course. Though through his own punishment he’d come to realize that maybe it wasn’t always a bad thing. He didn’t feel a lick bad about what he’d been doing with the DADA classes. He was doing the right thing. Protecting students and saving a lot of fifth and seventh years who would have otherwise failed their OWLs and NEWTs outright. There was no real shame in that. Not any he could find at least.
The fact that it was unjustly given was what Satine tended to focus on when they’d gotten back to the common room that fateful day. She was halfway through the outline of a rather gnarly proposal on what the outlawing of studying would do to young minds before Obi-Wan had set a hand gently on hers. He’d had to remind her that it was less about the study aspect and more about what Gunray saw as insubordination and unauthorized use of magic. Obi-Wan didn’t believe either of those to be true. A voice in the back of his head that sounded an awful lot like his father, reminded him that he had fair grounds to “sue them for everything they were worth”. In a way it was pretty freeing to realize on his own that he didn’t have to do anything if he didn’t want to.
None of this stopped him from answering questions from other students, this perhaps is what backfired on Gunray himself. Obi-Wan physically being in the classroom had a lot of the fifth year students relax quite visibly. When they would raise their hands they wouldn’t ask for Gunray they would ask for him . It gave him something of a spark in his chest to be called over to answer a question. Gunray was rather spitty about the whole thing, quite literally spraying half the class in his spluttering. Anakin would tell him to “Say it not spray it,” but the boy wasn’t here. Hadn’t really been around Obi-Wan much at all recently.
Still there wasn’t much Gunray could do, especially when Stridus was so good at framing it like he would hate to bother the Professor for a simple, stupid question. He had to hand it to that Slytherin, the boy was crafty and it didn’t take long for the others to catch on. Perhaps as another attempt to dampen his spirit further Gunray had given him their assignments to grade, but that just went to show how little he knew about Obi-Wan Kenobi.
“Look at this Satine,” He’d said one evening holding up Alara’s most recent essay, “For someone who started quite nervous on the subject she writes so eloquently about the Confundus charm.”
She’d given him a soft sort of look, the kind where he always feels like he needs to check behind himself in case she’s seeing right through him, “You did a good thing, you know that?”
A good thing.
He had, he knew it. Even just looking at those first three students. Alara was much more confident, Tyanna had learned several things that made her eyes light up, and Stridus, he believed firmly, was on his way to passing onto the sixth year this time. That didn’t account for all the others. All the others.
No he couldn’t regret it and he wouldn’t. It didn’t help that his ‘detention’ really wasn’t even much of a limiter on his personal time. He’d already been spending far more time on his classes than his TA experience.
The one thing he hadn’t expected was to be excused for an interview session. He’d been whistling away cleaning up a couple cobwebs before class started when Gunray walked in sweating and dabbing his forehead with that ruddy soiled cloth. None of this was out of the ordinary, but Gunray approaching him before class started was.
“You’ve been summoned with the other champions,” Gunray told him, giving him a little shoeing motion with his hands. Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, but didn’t move much to Gunray’s clear disdain, “You’re dismissed, didn’t you- didn’t you hear me boy?”
“I’m in detention,” He reminded him, “I can’t just leave, that would be against the rules.”
“Who cares about the rules?” Gunray tried to wave that away, but Obi-Wan met him with a blank stare.
“I do,” He answered, though he had a rather punchy comeback of ‘you did when you threw me in here in the first place,’ that he was a bit ashamed he didn’t use, “And Article D subsection 19 clearly states that any student leaving detention without explicit permission from the headmaster and the head of house will be receiving a longer sentence.”
“Well… well…” Gunray spluttered and Obi-Wan strategically moved behind a jar of various eyes to avoid being sprayed, “Let’s just let this go, hmm? This one time?”
“I really don’t think-” Obi-Wan began again, his thoughts drifting toward the fifth years and how he was really hoping to see the expression on Tyanna’s face when she received perfect marks on her essay.
“I’ll contact Tahl! I’ll contact the Headmaster and say I gave you permission,” Gunray tossed the soiled cloth onto the cluttered desk between them, “I’ll contact the bloody prime minister himself if you want me to. You have to go now or you’ll be late!”
Obi-Wan could think of several things he’d prefer to do right now other than interviews, but he gave a relenting sigh, “Alright if you promise to contact Professor Tahl-”
“Consider it done,” Gunray gave a satisfied nod.
“Are you sure you don’t need help for this lesson? It’s a-” He couldn’t say terrible, he can’t say terrible, “A bit of a doozy wouldn’t you say?”
“No, no! I had it handled before you and I’ll handle it without you!”
“If you say so,” Oh Obi-Wan doubted him quite completely.
As he was leaving he passed the incoming students, all looked rather dejected when they realized they’d be once again spending class alone with Gunray. He gave a awkward little half-smile and wished them luck. What else was he supposed to do? He hoped they remembered the spell he taught them that was good to loosen the jaw of a creature that bites. Gunray might lose a hand without him there, not that he felt in the slightest like that was his fault.
He walked the halls, eyes had started following him again, but it was different than the last few times these things had happened. Most he had heard were mad as a cut snake about their ‘extra lessons’ being removed. He’d overheard a few fellow seventh years working on an elaborate prank on Gunray and although he’d half heartedly reminded them of the rules, well, children would be children, even the older ones.
He was surprised when he entered the interview room to see not only a gaggle of press and his fellow champions, but Satine and Padme standing next to Anakin. Hera had brought a friend of hers along, though Quinlan stood alone.
“Satine? What in the dickens are you doing here?” He crossed his arms, “Don’t you have Muggle Studies?”
“I think I, a muggle born, can manage a day without it,” She said smoothly, he did have to agree he supposed.
It didn’t take long for everyone to realize that he was there and eagerly put him on the stand with the others. Satine stood just behind him as did Padme and Hera’s friend to Anakin and Hera, respectively. It opened quite the same as any interview did. Discussing the upcoming tournament and what the eager audience should expect. Quinlan made a pretty good joke about how the audience might as well be wearing blindfolds considering what they all knew about it. It was all going rather smoothly until someone had the guts to bring up more touchy details.
“I heard from a source that you might drop out Anakin, is that true?”
Anakin looked surprised to be given the spotlight, but as usual easily recovered, “Of course not!”
“I’ve heard after your horrible failure in the last match that you wanted to give up completely.”
“No!” He looked a little outraged now, Obi-Wan’s hands twitched at his sides where he had them hang. His mother’s voice was in his mind reminding him that bad publicity was still publicity. Anakin wanted to be in the news and in the news he shall be-
“We’ve heard from a reliable source that your grades, especially in DADA, are very low. Why would the goblet pick someone with such a low standing-”
“-As a likely more reliable source, I’d like to contest that,” Obi-Wan stepped forward, cameras flashed and he felt the ghost of his mother’s hand tighten around his throat. He shook away the feeling, he wasn’t her, he didn’t need her opinions anymore.
Anakin looked over at him inquisitively.
“Firstly, this is not a competition ladened purely on academic standings,” Obi-Wan pointed out, “The tournament relies on tenacity and strength just as much as it relies on spells and wit,” The look on Anakin’s face was not one that was pleased, but it was easy for Obi-Wan to ignore it and continue on with his point, “However, even with that falsity cleared, Anakin is one of the smartest wizards I know.”
Quills were scratching now and cameras flashed more fiercely as he shot a glance over at his former mentee who had a bit of surprise not quite hidden on his face.
“Anakin took on the Zillo Beast his first year, discovering a secret sith temple hidden deep within our school,” Obi-Wan reminded them, “There were no casualties from that disaster because of quick thinking and wizarding skills. There were some elements of teamwork, but in the real world you’re never truly alone. If anything this tournament focusing on just one person is a bit incongruent,” He made a point to look back at Satine as he said it, getting his point across to everyone in the room easily. She took the attention well which made him feel better about dragging it onto her.
“Anakin uncovered a self proclaimed Sith who had been teaching at this school and under my own nose for years. It took Anakin only one to show the world his true colors,” Obi-Wan pointed out, “No one else knew, no one else noticed. People studied and taught with him every day and we didn’t know. But Anakin knew something was up and without him who knows what Dooku would be teaching us,” Obi-Wan could still reckon it would be better than what Gunray was doing, but he wasn’t about to land himself into scrubbing toilets by calling him out so callously.
“But you took out Maul!” A reporter stood up, as if her words weren’t enough to gain his attention.
“With help,” He pointed out, pushing images of Qui-Gon and bridges out of his mind as he did so, “And what really does taking out Maul say about me?” He pushed, “It doesn’t show my prowess, it shows that I was lucky. I didn’t die, so I was lucky.”
“That’s not true!” Obi-Wan whipped his head around to where Anakin had moved to stand beside him, staring down the camera’s with a careful ferocity, “Qui-Gon didn’t really believe in luck.” The words hit him quite harshly, like the Hogwarts Express had crashed itself through the wall behind him, “If he were here- Well he’s not here,” Anakin continued, not looking at Obi-Wan but speaking confidently to the room, “So I’ll tell you what he’d likely have said! It takes all aspects of one’s self to achieve something great. Obi-Wan is smart, I mean have you seen his grades? He’s also skilled, like you said he took out Maul! And he’s strong enough to face people when he’s made a mistake.”
Anakin turned to look up at Obi-Wan and lifted his wand to cast a simple, yet effective muffling charm over the two of them, “I’ve been a ruddy git lately. I was just upset because you never even thanked me for your birthday present and you are kind of clingy and you did take a lot of attention off of me-”
“Birthday present?” Obi-Wan blinked towards him.
“Satine told me you never got it,” Anakin shrugged, “I left it out for you, maybe someone stole it. I just thought maybe it would get us to talk again.”
“But I’ve been writing you letters,” Obi-Wan frowned.
“I never got them,” Anakin shook his head, “Padme and Satine found out that we’ve basically been dancing around each other, I’m not sure who’s interfering, but it must be whoever’s targeting you in the tournament.”
When the charm dropped, there were a lot of questions about what had been shared between the two, but Obi-Wan had learned a thing or two about the media and let it go until another topic was pushed. It was kind of liberating to finally be able to be honest, or as honest as you could be in front of these vultures. He could talk about Satine and about Cody and about how they’d done hours and hours of research and work for his involvement in the tournament. Anakin talked about him and Padme and Rex. Quinlan and Hera had similar stories. It was really proof that this whole champion tournament was kind of a wash. No one was ever alone, not really. And those that were… well he didn’t think they’d fair so kindly under the amount of books they’d all been reading together.
And afterwards, it was when things began to mend a little. Anakin joined him for dinner in the Great Hall and they caught up. Anakin as usual had a lot to talk about and a lot that went over Obi-Wan’s head about comics and such. Still it was good to reclaim another important piece of his life. Anakin would always be important to him, he was a light in a dark world and not only because of his status as the chosen one, but because he strived to do good. Obi-Wan planned to see him through to adulthood and beyond, because someone needed to make sure the troublemaker didn’t land himself in Azkaban.
Palpatine had had a rather irritating day. Grading tests was so mundane, but grading practicals? He’d nearly had his damn eyebrows singed off. Fourth years were just on the precipice. If they couldn’t figure out how to brew something that didn’t blow up in their face by the end of this year? They’d basically be failures, he was sure. Didn’t help that a few of those sniveling brats said they got the measurements mixed up. He’d had to assure them that these things happen…
Palpatine’s real answer to that was simply not to make such a mistake. Thinking about his own situation, one wrong move and his cover here was blown. These fourth years were nothing like him at their age. Already making plans, if he made a mistake he wouldn’t have cried about it he’d have taken what punishment he received. He still had all his fingers and toes, he supposed that was proof enough that he didn’t make mistakes .
Now here he was at dinner stuck next to Gunray who was sweating profusely and muttering under his breath. Tahl had brought up a rather curiously written letter about letting the Kenobi boy off the hook for today’s round of detention and the man had practically fallen into a puddle of nerves. Through whatever he was on about Palpatine could assess that someone had told him how important it was that he not look like he was failing Hogwarts champion. Considering how the bulging eyed idiot kept glancing at a gaggle of girls from Gryffindor he’d guess it was that Amidala girl. He’d seen her skulking around with Kryze in between periods, but whatever she’d sold Gunray had clearly stuck.
He didn’t care about any of this. It was just that watching Gunray squirm was not as entertaining as it should be. It was really just sort of sad and pathetic. What he did care about was how Skywalker was sitting right next to the one person he shouldn’t be. Palpatine had worked so hard driving a knife between Kenobi and Skywalker and yet here they were, smiling at each other. He gripped his fork so hard the thing very much almost shot out of his hand. Instead he let it find the steak in front of him with enough force that he almost stuck it through the plate.
His steak was done well. He’d have preferred it raw.
No Palpatine was not having a good night. He turned towards Yaddle who was observing the very alive frog sitting on the plate in front of her. Even he was helpless to watch as she bit the thing in half. He was surrounded by lunatics.
“Ah Professor Yaddle?” He prompted in his far too weak, far too innocent drawl. Yaddle looked at him, the gleam of a hunt still lit in her eyes, which was perhaps as far as the two would ever relate. Not that she would ever know, “I’m going to head off, I’m not feeling too well.”
At the smallest hint of acknowledgement he stood and allowed himself to leave. He’d feel better with the cold damp dungeon walls surrounding him. He figured he’d go on a bit of a walk. Anything that could keep him from not making a mistake , like driving his nails through Kenobi’s eye sockets and popping them out for his potions store. No, he didn't need to make any premature mistakes .
“So, we know that the task is taking place in the forest, involves some big and scary monster, and is centered around a person’s “spirit”.” Cody listed all of these factors out on one hand to the small think tank that currently congregated in Professor Tahl’s classroom. “What else is there?”
Tahl, herself, was out for the night, so she allowed them to borrow her office for research. It was mostly exciting to Cody, because he got to strum on a guitar every time he got bored reading.
In other words, the guitar was taken from him pretty early on into the evening. Satine didn’t have any taste in music, which was disappointing to him, because she did not find his hard rock rendition of twinkle-twinkle little star to be nice on the ears.
“The fact that none of us were really given clues about it?” Obi-Wan said and then gave Anakin a look that could have also served as a question. The boy nodded and then supplied a clueless shrug. “Not to mention what Satine and Padmé dug up in the archives.”
“Which all seems like conjecture without any real knowledge.” Satine added. “Though we do know that the first two tasks borrowed from the past and while the forbidden forest has been used as a backdrop before-”
“-It is a bit dodgy that the very last task ever in Tri-Wizard history prior to this tournament, was also featured in the forest,” Padmé supplied. “Plus someone died.”
“Before the task though,” Rex said.
“Still, it was murder.” Anakin said, “Not like you can just trip and be decapitated.”
“I told you that the rumor about the ghost of the Shrieking Shack was true,” Rex clarified.
“No I told you that was true,” Cody huffed.
“No Hevy-”
“-Moving on, until that book is located, we can’t do much about that. Especially knowing it runs in Dooku’s family line. What we do know is that there were four contestants for that tournament as well,” Satine looked at her notes. “Aside from that, the only time it’s been recorded that there were four contestants was when Revan was in the tournament.”
“And he was cursed,” Anakin said, leaning back in his seat to the point where he was dangerously close to tipping backwards. Obi-Wan seemed to be keeping a keen eye on it with his wand at the ready. He didn’t want the boy to think he was hovering, though, and made no comment about it at the moment.
“This time it’s Kenobi’s turn to be cursed,” Cody said warily, not liking that fact any more as time passed, “Especially given Tahl’s ominous vision.”
Tahl had finally relented on the subject matter of the vision shortly after she’d been cleared of kidnapping. It hadn’t been too complicated: it was Obi-Wan covered in blood and dying. It hadn’t exactly surprised Obi-Wan, since he’d heard part of it, but it didn’t make anyone feel better.
“She still isn’t 100% sure what it means or why it happened,” Obi-Wan offered, especially when he was given a rather frightful look from Satine, trying as she might to hide it, “I still say we should be careful on all fronts. Anakin has been the target for the past two years. Why switch it up to me now?”
“I personally will start caring for explanations after the tournament,” Cody said, “Let’s just get you boys home first.”
“For once, I agree,” Satine said.
“You don’t have to say it like that,” Cody frowned.
“Sorry,” She winced, “I just mean that it’s far more important for us to figure out what this task is capable of than it is the reason behind it. Those might be important for a later date, but I’m far more concerned in getting you in and getting you out.”
“Hearing about all of this murder and stuff doesn’t make me that eager to try and win,” Anakin said, “Well, if the first task was a race, the second was a maze, what does that leave for the last one?”
“Technically, the first one could also be classified as a race,” Kenobi clarified, “This one could be a hunt of sorts for the cup. It wouldn’t be the first time they tried something like this.”
“But clearly, it won’t just be anything in the forest.” Padmé said, “And no, I don’t think it’s the Zillo Beast either, Anakin. He wouldn’t fit.”
“It’s a dense forest!” Anakin defended, “But you know, who’s to say it won’t be an intense camping trip. That would be a test of spirit, wouldn’t it?”
“And a boring one,” Cody said, “Nobody wants to see you get eaten by a bear. They want to see you get eaten by a dinosaur or something cool.”
“That’s true,” Anakin said.
“Nobody wants to see you get eaten at all,” Satine corrected and then looked to Kenobi, “Or you.”
“Neither have much meat on their bones to be very tasty anyway,” Rex piped in.
“Not true! I have muscle!” Anakin flexed a bicep, grinning as the little bump on the center of his arm raised a fraction more than it had a few weeks before. “Thanks to Cody’s bootcamp.”
“That’s right!” Cody grinned, ruffling both Anakin and Kenobi’s hair, “I don’t go easy on them and neither will any curses.”
“I don’t think this is getting us anywhere,” Satine sighed and looked at the interview with the Minister of Magic from the press event. He had confirmed knowing what the final task was and while he hadn’t given any hints after being sworn under oath, he simply looked into the camera and said “find the cup, collect your prize”.
“There are some beings both mythical and true that have been known to stress mental and emotional fortitude.” Obi-Wan proposed, “There are brain worms.”
Cody shivered and all looked to him in mild surprise.
“What? I’m allowed to be grossed out by bugs!” He said defensively, “Doesn’t make me any less tough.”
“Sure, mate,” Rex smirked.
“Brain worms effectively turn you into zombies,” Satine frowned, “Unless they were to subject say, your loved ones to them, I don’t see how that’s going to actually test one’s emotional strength.”
“Oooh, I’d like to become a zombie!” Anakin volunteered and Padmé put his hand down.
“No you don’t,” She sighed.
“What about Illithids?” Satine asked, pointing to a psychological creatures book that she’d picked up at some point in their research, “Though believed to be extinct and sort of embellished over time, they were known to have psionic powers that could dive into a person’s soul.”
“That sounds horrifying,” Padmé said.
“It looks horrifying too,” Anakin added, “Those blue tentacles on their face and brain-looking heads do not make them lookers.”
“I’ve learned something about them in DADA,” Obi-Wan said, “When I was doing some extra credit work in fifth year, Dooku mentioned that it was rumored that before they went extinct almost an eon ago, Illithids inadvertently used their powers to create the first Personatus.”
“Ah, the act of being faceless.” Satine hummed. “I remember that essay. You were so tired, you switched tenses on a sentence or two, but ultimately, it was still an interesting read.”
“It was quite late,” He retorted. “And my introductory paragraph was so strong that Dooku said-”
“-Nerds, does this matter?” Cody asked, cutting in.
“Don’t get buggy , Cody,” Satine smirked, “But yes, a personatus, though rare, is someone who can transform into just about anyone while remaining practically unrecognizable in their true form.”
“So, a polyjuice potion,” Anakin said.
“Not nearly as simple,” Obi-Wan said, “A personatus needs to only have looked into the person they’re transforming into’s eyes once and they can change on command.”
“That’s insane,” Rex said.
“I don’t disagree.” Obi-Wan said, “There hasn’t been a known Personatus in over a century. The last recorded was Cato Parasitti, a clawdite bounty hunter who often used this power to steal from their employers.”
“What about this?” Anakin showed Obi-Wan a page from his book, which had mostly pictures of beasts. This one was surrounded by fire, a spider-crab hybrid with the face of a slug. It was perched on top of a large open eyeball, content with the flames that engulfed it. There were orange bubbles around it, each foggy and curious.
“That’s the legend of the Eye of Webbish Bog.” Obi-Wan said, “It’s rumored to be part of the reason the Bermuda Triangle is so peculiar. The Eye would only allow those to pass who it deemed worthy, and lit those that weren’t on fire. Evidently, it would force you to see your truest self and answer one question.”
“Nice,” Anakin gulped and flipped the page, “What question?”
“No one knows,” He said, “This drawing is done based on accounts found in a discarded journal. It had to be something difficult, I’d imagine, or maybe incredibly simple and often over thought. Either way, if it does exist, no one has ever answered it correctly.”
“Well, that’s creepy,” Rex said and looked to Cody, “Better watch out, it’s another bug.”
“Shut up,” Cody grumbled.
“Maybe it’s not deeper than we’re giving it credit,” Kenobi suggested, “Maybe it truly is about going into the forest, facing whatever spirit-challenging creature is inside, and getting out with the Tri-Wizard cup.”
“I feel that’s too simple,” Satine said, “The last tournament left its contestants scarred.”
“And one dead.” Padmé said. “Vidar Kim.”
“He was a Ravenclaw wasn’t he?” Kenobi mused.
“You know of him?” Cody asked, “Not sure why I’m asking that. You memorized every Head Boy that walked through this school’s name.”
“Exactly,” He said, “But that was an interesting year, because the position ended up being handed to a different student as well, since he hadn’t been able to live to see the tale. It’s really quite interesting that the school opted to replace him instead of honoring him.”
“He wasn’t winning the tournament,” Padmé said, “The Slytherin student was.”
“The Shack is pretty close to the forest,” Rex suggested, “I dunno, maybe his spirit haunted them.”
“What if spirit is construed as a ghost?” Satine’s eyes widened. “What if you’re haunted by ghosts?”
“What can ghosts do?” Cody asked. “They can’t even touch us.”
“No, but we underestimate the toll they can take on the mind,” Satine said, “Especially if they’re set free to run loose in the forest.”
“It’s possible,” Obi-Wan said, “But if I’m honest, I don’t think we’ll know until we get there. All we can do, is remain alert and have plenty of mind-healing antidotes ready to prevent any psychological damage.”
“I wish we knew exactly what that task was 100 years ago.” Cody complained. “This might make things a great deal easier.”
“Nobody likes to talk about it,” Padmé said, “On account of something very wrong having happened.”
“And whatever it is, it’s in that book,” Satine crossed her arms.
“Doing some spring cleaning, are we?” Yoda asked as he passed by Professor Palpatine’s office. The Potions professor had almost jumped a little at the Headmaster’s voice. He hadn’t been expecting visitors and yes, he had been doing a bit of decluttering. It was high time he disposed of some things that no longer served him useful.
“Oh, indeed,” He smiled, “It’s almost the end of the school year already. I truly can’t believe it.”
“Curious it is how time passes,” Yoda said and his eyes brightened when he noticed a cook book in Palpatine’s disposal pile, “Look through your books, can I?”
“Why, of course! My trash can be your treasure, Headmaster.” And Professor Palpatine truly said this with confidence, for the only book of true value was already under his robes and ready to be moved to the mantle space of his storage unit.
“What do you think, Ben?” He looked up, across the table to where Satine was letting the steam of her tea warm her face, “The lemon tea is delicious.”
“Pomegranate is pretty good,” He conceded weakly. Truthfully he hadn’t been paying attention to the flavors. Between making sure his schedule went to plan and admiring how cute Satine looked across the table from him surrounded by the horrible gaudy decor, he was a teensy bit distracted.
“A very weak argument,” She frowned, but took a sip of her tea regardless. He breathed in the scent of his own tea, the warm steam curling across his cheeks and he took a sip himself. It was easy to get lost in a moment here, he supposed that was why so many couples did come here, maybe why he’d come here with Satine a fair few times before they were together. It was warm and the tables were small. His legs were practically tangled with Satine’s beneath the table cloth. He would never say no to the sweets stacked precariously in the middle of the table and the amount of hideous lace meant their voices would never disturb those around them, caught like flies in a spider’s web.
—Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden // Magical Forces AU (ao3 link)
“Hey-” She began, but was promptly cut off when he got near, picking her up into an embrace and spinning her a bit, like something out of a fairytale. Her laugh echoed off scorched walls, to which she would surely ask about later, but not now.
Instead, when she was finally placed down, she was dipped, secured between the fold of his arms and outstretched leg, and kissed breathless. Her hands carded through his hair without thought and his mouth slanted against hers, as though trying to consume her right there. She didn’t mind. Though a woman of principle and desires of her own, she didn’t care if he swallowed her whole.
She didn’t know if it went on for minutes or for an eternity. But she tightened her hold around him as he slowly and gradually lifted her back to standing upright.
—Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden // Magical Forces AU (ao3 link)
Anakin didn’t sleep well the night before, an occurrence that was unfortunately taking on a larger frequency in the past couple of weeks, though this time he did not dream of disappointment or of that cursed graveyard again. Instead, the dream he had the previous night was one that under different circumstances, he would have found pleasant. However, his eyes bore through the trunk at the end of his bed, knowing that its contents held a package he hadn’t paid attention to since he’d purchased it over winter holiday.
As the enchanted calendar by his bedside flipped on its own accord, as it did every morning, to showcase the start of a new day and month, he grimaced at the implications of such a day.
“What’s got you so sour?” Rex asked as he tugged a thick wool gray jumper over his head. For a moment, Anakin mused over how the hole seemed far too small for his head, but that it eventually gave way and expanded to shape his neckline. Rex made sure his tie was properly tucked underneath in the mirror, but gave Anakin a sidelong glance to indicate that he wasn’t keen on dropping the subject.
“Just because I haven’t said anything this morning, doesn’t make me sour,” He said.
“Yes it does,” Rex huffed and moved to put on some heavy boots, “Even first thing in the morning, it’s usually impossible to stop your yapping.”
“That’s not true!” Anakin argued.
“Yes it is,” Chimed Fives and Echo simultaneously. Anakin still wasn’t sure how they did that so efficiently each time. He supposed if magic were real, then telepathy could be too.
“See,” Rex prodded and stood to inspect himself now that he was fully dressed and ready for class. While the worst of winter was hopefully over, there had been an exponential increase in dampness in the castle that necessitated thick layers for compensation.
“I see nothing,” Anakin returned and flopped backwards on his pillow. “I’m just tired, is all.”
“Yeah, you were tossing and turning a lot.” Rex said, “Bad dreams?”
“More like annoying ones.” Anakin said, “No Dooku or Maul or Mum. Just…”
His eyes fell naturally back to the trunk and up to divert his attention almost wistfully to the notebook that rested on top of the stack of books on a nearby table. The bright red and blue binding had grown a bit worn over the past two years, but Anakin had truly tried to keep it in relatively good condition.
And he couldn’t bring himself to part with it. Because he was weak and could not let things go.
“Mate?” Two fingers snapped in front of his face and he blinked suddenly, finding a more concerned Rex. “What is it?”
“I’m just thinking,” He said, “Today is going to be one of those days.”
“You know what our cure to a drab day is?” Fives asked, seeming to appear from nowhere once again. Echo, unsurprisingly, was not far behind and slipped under his twin’s outstretched arm.
“I dunno, annoying everyone around you?” Rex deadpanned, which earned him a prompt shove backwards from the face, causing him to fall back onto his bed with a thump. He still laughed even as he tumbled, clearly finding the jest to be worth it.
“Don’t listen to him, Skywalker,” Echo rolled his eyes. “We’re experts on curing bad moods.”
“What do you do?” Anakin asked.
“We make people laugh!” They both said, and tossed an array of sparkling dust into the air, shining down on all four of them, and sending them all into hysterical laughter. Even if it hurt, Anakin rolled on his side and shook with laughter without a care in the world, feeling his face go pink as the giggles overtook him.
He heard Rex laughing too as well as the twins, and they all rocked back and forth for what felt like forever, cackling like they’d just witnessed the funniest stand-up to date. It felt like a combination of being relentlessly jabbed in the sides and having the hiccups on a constant loop- both hilarious but gradually painful.
“I’m going to kill you two!” Rex said between laughs, which admittedly lessened the blow of the threat a great deal.
“I think I’m going to throw up!” Anakin said cheerfully, because at the moment, there was no other way to say it.
“Hey, we had to make sure it worked somehow,” Echo struggled to say.
“Hondo does tend to cheap out on people,” Fives added.
The fact that Hondo sold them the product meant that there was no real confirmation as to when this tickling torture might end, which was not a good sign for all of them getting to class on time. On the bright side, Anakin was too distracted by the lurching in his stomach as he wiggled on his bed, desperately trying to find relief from this mayhem.
He paid no mind to the notebook or the trunk.
Or the fact that it was his mentor’s birthday.
***
Obi-Wan hadn’t been able to make it fully out of the washroom from brushing his teeth and combing his hair that morning before being bombarded with a chorus of “happy birthday” sung completely off key and out of tune by other Ravenclaw boys. Eeth Koth seemed to be leading the charge, most horrifically, since he was notoriously bad at singing, with Cin Drallig not much better.
A flurry of confetti rained down, though he wasn’t sure where it had come from, and entangled itself in his recently combed hair. He’d been yanked into a hug that mostly consisted of brain-muddling noogies, which would have been annoying if it hadn’t come from a rather kind place.
“It’s not my birthday, you ninnies!” He couldn’t help but laugh though, finding a spot of joy that hadn’t once been there in regards to another rotation.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’ve heard it all before!” Shouted Cin. “You’re technically 4 and a half this year.”
“Doesn’t mean we’re going to let you go a second without knowing it now that we know,” Eeth said as he blew on a little cardboard horn that made an obnoxious sound that rivaled his singing voice.
“I think this means we get to give you four and a half punches today,” Cin said, “Those are the rules.”
“I don’t remember reading that in the birthday handbook,” Obi-Wan parried.
“Perhaps not, but that’s because you’re only four!” Eeth said.
“Who are you kidding?” Fenn Rau muttered, “He’s probably been reading since he was two.”
“Seeing as I was actually eight then, yes I was reading before that.” Obi-Wan retorted as he thought back, “Weren’t you?”
“Not the point!” Fenn Rau said a bit too defensively.
“I think I know who wants to go first in punching Kenobi.” Cin said.
“No one is punching me!” Obi-Wan said.
“Well, the alternative would be 4 and a half birthday kisses and we’re not doing that,” Eeth said.
“Yeah, save that for Kryze.”
Obi-Wan didn’t really understand what constituted “half” of a punch or a kiss for that matter, but had to settle for the realization that there would be no talking these idiots out of this one. So, he sighed and walked through the sea of boys that began readily swinging aggressively against his arms, smiling through the bruises that were surely left behind.
It was significantly worth it though, to see Satine’s dazzling smile when he walked down the stairs to the main common room, her eyes glittering and her face radiant in the natural sunlight that flooded in from the window behind him.
“Happy not-birthday!” She cheered, throwing her arms around him the moment he was within reach and rocking back and forth as he hugged her in return. He felt her fingers sift through his hair momentarily to retrieve some stray pieces of confetti, “Nice accessories.”
“You can thank the boys for that,” He said with a smirk, pulling back only enough to look at her, “Which I suppose I can blame you for now that the cat is out of the bag regarding my mysterious date of birth.”
“It deserves to be celebrated.” She shrugged.
“It doesn’t exist this year,” He pointed out.
“Oh well, if that’s the case, then I suppose the cake I baked from scratch is just going to have to go to someone else,” She teased in a sing-song sort of way that hinted how she knew his weaknesses on sight.
“What kind of cake?” He arched an eyebrow at her.
“Chocolate, of course.”
“And what color icing?” He knew he really didn’t have any room to be picky, but he sometimes still salivated over the mere thought of the cake they’d arranged last year for his secret birthday celebration.
“Blue,” She rolled her eyes, “I’m not a heathen.”
“No, you most certainly are not,” He said, releasing her now that more students filtered into the common room. Though it was his birthday (or the celebrating day, for that matter), that didn’t mean they needed to cause any commotion, “Alright, I suppose I can play along to the festivities for the sake of dessert extortion.”
“I figured you might,” She patted him on the cheek, “But you know the deal, we have to at least have breakfast first.”
“I can be patient,” He reminded her, “I waited for you long enough.”
She shot him a challenging look, “Don’t think that because it’s your birthday that I won’t engage and defeat you in verbal sparring of the most ruthless degree, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”
“What sort of event would it be if we didn’t quarrel?” He pointed out.
“You are impossible,” She said, bumping into him on purpose.
He winced and she furrowed her brow. “Oh, the boys introduced me to a new tradition that I was unfamiliar with prior. Have you ever heard of birthday punches?”
“Only a sucker allows anyone to come within three meters when that’s proposed,” She retorted, though she did run a soothing hand down the length of his arm.
“Speaking of tradition,” He said as he followed her out of the common room, “They mentioned something about the prospect of its counterpart: birthday kisses.”
“I see,” She said knowingly, winking at him as she went. “And I’m guessing they didn’t demonstrate.”
“No, thankfully,” He coughed, “I’m not that agreeable, but they said because I’m technically 4 and a half, that this would be the amount I should receive.”
“What’s 4 and a half kisses?” She asked.
“I’m not sure,” He said, “I didn’t want to know what their interpretation would entail.”
“Fair enough,” She smirked, “Well, I would say that’s quite doable, especially to the 18 I was ready to give you.”
He flushed beat red, stopping in his tracks and watching her continue down the tower for a second, meeting her eyes when she turned around the bend and grinned up at him almost deviously. Suddenly, he wasn’t so opposed to birthday traditions at all.
“Er- perhaps we can renegotiate?” He suggested.
“We’ll see,” She said.
***
It took everything in Sidious’ power to resist the massive eye roll followed by instant upchuck that naturally came to be when he passed Hogwarts’ Head Boy and Head Girl bantering in the hallway, gazing into each other’s eyes while trading quips back and forth. They weren’t too close to say anything and they weren’t even technically touching, but it was still sickening to behold so early in the morning. Not only was their obvious affection a crime against humanity in its own right, but deeply annoying outside of that.
The two biggest incessant know-it-all’s in the school, together at last.
Though it made his skin crawl to see someone of Kenobi’s bloodline mingle with such paltry company such as Kryze, it would be micromanaging to go out of his way to see an end to the relationship. After all, if things went accordingly, neither would eventually be a problem for him.
Not to mention, he’d realized fairly early on that their kindled romance could serve his benefit in the long run, even if in a twisted way. Rarely were the riches rewards achieved in a manner that could be deemed straightforward.
“Ah, so lovely, young love can be,” He pushed his persona to the forefront, nearly breaking at the seams to reveal ingenuity, but hung out by the barest of threads.
Luckily, the two lovebirds were a bit too startled to notice his visible restraint.
“Sorry, Professor.” Kryze said, the haughty little trollop, “We were just-”
“-Discussing birthday plans,” Kenobi responded and judging by the way his face remained relaxed, this was part of the truth.
The laugh that came to be was partially earnest in the sense that he found it quite tickling that Kenobi would genuinely believe him to care about his birthday. No, the only day Sidious cared to be a part of in the insignificant life of Obi-Wan Kenobi was the day he died.
“How fun,” He patted Kenobi on the shoulder, having to consciously prevent his fingers from curling too tight. Piercing a pressure point would be easy and he suspected Kryze wouldn’t be a major overhaul to fight. The girl did dither on about pacifism enough to paint a large target on herself. It was only a matter of time til she met someone’s blade.
She wasn’t worth his time of course.
“We could save you a slice of cake, if you’d like,” Kenobi offered and Sidious almost growled at the moron. How could he not see that he was in danger? How could he not understand how limited his days were? Did he truly believe this illusion of happiness was forever?
He’d escaped him twice now, but Sidious felt the binds of his plan loosening and reevaluating what would suit the greater picture best. Kenobi was too good, too Qui-Gon to have any place in Sidious’ future. However, unlike Qui-Gon, he was a foolish child, no matter how bright everyone believed him to be. And foolish children were often tricked and molded into whatever adults wanted them to be.
“Oh, no, Obi-Wan, that won’t be necessary,” He offered him a smile, to make him feel safe. Children liked being safe. It worked to some degree, because he returned it in kind, nodding his head in acceptance of this. He hadn’t really wanted his Potions professor to come anyway, not when he was tight with the pureblood community that rejected him now.
He was too nice, and therefore weak. His parents were lucky he removed himself from that equation.
However, Kryze was giving him a curious look, one that didn’t quite relay what she was thinking in that blonde head of hers. Nothing good, Sidious would wager, as she’d never quite trusted him the way others could. He could laugh off her subtle suggestions of his bias all he wanted, but it never failed to irritate him how she often saw something that many thrice her years could not.
It was the sort of thing that was very dangerous to someone like Sidious.
Awareness, that is. Awareness that there was something about this professor that she didn’t like, beyond teaching style or alleged favoritism (because he hadn’t done anything to her knowledge that would logically inspire such skepticism). It was just a sense.
It would become no more than that, of course, because though a step ahead of others her age and beyond, she was still miles behind Sidious’ gait, with no hopes of reaching a finish line in any rendition of the story.
But first, she would suffer. As they all would and should. As Sidious had for long beyond his years, through the sweat and blood of the ancient Sith. A time unheard of in the last millennia would arrive and it would take no mercy, no prisoners, no hope.
That was the celebration Sidious would dine at.
“You should treasure this birthday like it’s your last.” He added with another pat, moving past them both before his grin became too wicked.
He didn’t get too far when he bumped into Anakin Skywalker, who was a bit red faced and sweaty, for reasons Sidious truly did not want to hear about, standing aimlessly in front of the steps that led to Ravenclaw tower’s entrance.
“Alright there, Anakin?” He asked.
“Oh, hello Professor.” He said, starting a bit at his approach. Sidious wasn’t even trying to be fearsome and he was scaring every student in this stretch. Just imagine what would happen if he were to show his true form. “How are you?”
“I’m quite well,” He said and looked between the raven that sat perched near the entryway, waiting to deliver a quick riddle, and the boy, “I’ll tell you this, you won’t win a staring contest against a statue, Anakin.”
He laughed weakly, running a hand through his hair as he always did when he was uneasy. Yes, it was obvious that something weighed on him and it was not just the burden of his own failure this time. He hadn’t taken well to losing, of which Sidious could sympathize if that were an emotion he was capable of feeling, but this was something different.
In his hand, there was a small box wrapped poorly in gold trappings, tied with an equally pathetic blue bow made of a shoelace.
As he thought back to Kenobi’s reveal, something dark turned over in Sidious, something that made the demon inside of him lurch forward, screaming to be released to howl at the imbecile for running back to Kenobi.
“Is that a birthday present for Obi-Wan?” He asked, his voice admittedly a bit high. He tampered down the rising emotion with a cough and if he had to do so a few times to gather his composure, he didn’t feel ashamed about this.
“Do you need some water?” Anakin asked, furrowing his brow.
“Oh no, my boy, just something caught in my throat is all.” He said.
“It’s not your teeth is it?” His blue eyes widened to perfect circles, “I’ve heard of people swallowing their dentures.”
“Dentures? I do not-” He took a steadying breath, shoving the flare of additional anger down. “No, maybe it’s a cold.”
“The older you get, the sicker you get.” He unhelpfully supplied and Sidious was wondering if it would be so wrong to rip every hair from his head out, just to prove a point.
“Right, right, but the present?” Sidious pressed.
He looked down at it, “Yeah, but I dunno if I should give it to him. I feel… Well, I feel kind of bad about the whole thing.”
“Your feelings, as always, are valid, Anakin,” He coaxed, “But just remember that it’s critical that you don’t act merely out of guilt. Has Obi-Wan ever apologized to you first?”
He thought about that, “No… Actually he hasn’t.”
“Well, I believe that he should,” Sidious said, “After all, you were humiliated in that second task and you saw how much he laughed. It was a bit cruel, if you ask me, but perhaps I have it misconstrued.”
He seemed to burn on that for a moment before shaking his head a bit, “But it doesn’t sound like Obi-Wan to make fun of anyone. He’s usually the goofy kid getting teased.”
Yes, well he was a massive dork.
“Victory can do many things to a man, Anakin.” He said, “It can give them a false sense of invincibility and sense of importance, that makes them step outside of their usual selves.”
“I see.” He said. “But that’s what happened to me last year.”
“And you grew tremendously from that moment,” Sidious said, “And it took your good friend Rex breaking away from you to reevaluate.”
“That’s true.” He said.
“So, would coming back to Obi-Wan, making it known how much you care and need him, truly be the healthy solution here? For Obi-Wan, I mean.” He said pitifully. “I would hate to see you in this heartbreaking situation again, Anakin. At odds with your dear mentor and friend, lost at sea.”
“I’m not lost.” Anakin said indignantly, “I’ve- I’ve been doing just fine without him!”
And maybe Sidious needed to prove that.
“I agree,” Sidious said and when he believed he had the boy, straightened, “Of course, it is always the bigger move to set forth an apology. And a gift is such a lovely way of doing that.”
“Yeah… It is.” He looked down at it, eyes murky and confused with what he should do, “Well… I think I’ll leave it for him. If he wants to apologize and make things right, he can. If not… I don’t need him.”
So, he placed it down on the top step next to the door, Obi-Wan’s name glittering in poor penmanship that could belong to no other, and skipped down the hall as though he’d immediately be caught.
Once alone, Sidious smiled, taking three even steps upwards to retrieve the package, tucking it under his robes.
Too easy.
***
Obi-Wan had hardly made it through Professor Windu’s introductory statement to the source material that they would be studying before an owl came zigzagging through the highest point of the ceiling, releasing a letter in its wake, before exiting just out the other side, not bothering to stop.
Its precision was unmatched and judging by its grace, he’d reckon it was one of Yoda’s carrier owls. Rumor had it, they were as old as he was and just as wise. He was surprised it drifted delicately on his desk, folded neatly yet quickly from someone who had scrawled this message down on paper.
“To my office, you must come. Now.”
He looked over at Satine, who had naturally read the message over his shoulder and fixed him with a baffled look, searching for an answer that he most assuredly did not have. He only needed to look in Windu’s direction to receive permission to be excused, implying that the Charms professor had at least the slightest inkling of what was happening. Obi-Wan wished he was also aboard that train, though.
So, without further delay, he squeezed Satine’s hand from under the table before disappearing from the busy classroom.
What could Headmaster Yoda want with him?
Maybe this was about his grades? He’d pulled them up a good deal, thanks mostly to Satine’s cutthroat studying routine. Answering secret questions on homework assignments had also helped bulk up his score. It was all making him remember why he loved school again.
He’d already stated that he wouldn’t be doing any more interviews from here on out, citing the confrontation with his parents after the first task as a good reason. He doubted that Headmaster Yoda needed much convincing of that either.
What if this was in regards to Obi-Wan’s application to the Auror Academy? Some were accepted straight out of Hogwarts in the past, but he wasn’t sure such times warranted for that kind of haste. After all, no Aurors had fallen at Dooku’s hand.
Maul’s, then again, had been a different story.
And everyone knew that Obi-Wan defeated Maul.
He stopped in his tracks as he passed the moving stairs, flinching as he swore he caught something dark and evil from the corner of his eyes, just where Maul had stood, challenging all to come and try him like a sick sideshow exhibit, full of tricks and trades that would leave everyone breathless and bloodless.
When he blinked, he realized it was just Professor Palpatine, carrying on his way towards his own classroom.
He sighed, what sort of Auror gets frightened by their potions professor?
He continued to battle with himself over what this impromptu meeting was about, trying not to allow his expectations to inflate too beyond the confines of logic, until he reached the hidden spiral stairway that led straight up to Yoda’s office. It unraveled entirely on its own, the Griffin Gargoyle not even prompting him for a password when he approached, which was just as good, seeing as he had nothing to offer. While prefects were made privy to all the passwords necessary for all the common room entryways, this did not apply to high-security offices.
“Thank you,” He said kindly to the beaked statue, and began a slight jog up the stone stairs.
He was about halfway along when he heard her. And when he did, he stopped dead in his tracks, very nearly losing balance over the jarring surprise. He only caught his balance on the banister next to him, clutching it for dear life.
“Headmaster Yoda, if you don’t fetch him, I assure you, we will do so ourselves. With a warrant.”
Or more accurately, he heard them.
“Be along, your son will be, but go as you wish, this conversation may not.” Headmaster Yoda was unfazed and slowly, Obi-Wan moved up the stairs, trying not to make any noise as he listened to the conversation above him. Through slits in the stairs, exposing not only beams of natural sunlight to his eyes, he could make out the shadows and feet of the people above him.
“That is why we’ve specifically requested the presence of Professor Gunray and Representative Lott Dodd.” His Father was much more sure than his mother, who sounded particularly screechy today. “Not only to ensure this legal process is filed promptly, but to act as witnesses so you don’t try any funny business.”
“Funny business?” Yoda laughed at that, a brogue that would have been comical if Obi-Wan’s heart hadn’t stopped.
Why were they here? Today of all days? Did they have to sweep in and ruin every great moment of his life?
He sighed quietly. That wasn’t true. He held many dear moments close to his chest, thanks to the privacy Hogwarts had offered him. However, from the sounds of it, his parents were insistent that those moments were gone starting today. Before adolescent fear could creep up his spine, he reminded himself that he was safe. He was always safe in Hogwarts.
He jolted at the thought of golden yellow eyes and he blinked hard, trying to dispel the visual.
Okay, he wasn’t always safe at Hogwarts.
But his parents could do him no harm. They couldn’t just take him.
“You’ve been dodging us all year,” His mother huffed, “In regards to Anakin or Obi-Wan, well, we will have it no longer.”
“And you will be sued for this level of discrimination and for what? Our status? Our privilege? It is lunacy in the name of correctness.” His father said. “Had we not reached out to Professor Gunray first and presented our case, who knows when we would have been allowed to see him? It’s as though you are kidnapping him at this point.”
“Ask your son what he thinks, you should,” Yoda said.
“Your brainwashing will go on for no longer,” His mother argued, “We are here to pick him up and take him away.”
“And listen, not project, you should.” He continued sagely, “Not the one intent on brainwashing, I am.”
“With all due respect, Headmaster, this is a family matter. I advise for legal purposes that you remain completely neutral,” And there was Professor Gunray, who sounded just as confused and spineless as he always did. Obi-Wan hadn’t realized they were friends with Gunray, as he’d never appeared at the inner circle of his family’s various soirees through the years, but they did align politically and Gunray’s presence at Hogwarts was surely appealing to his parents.
“Have a responsibility as headmaster, I do,” Yoda said in a firmer voice, “Promise the safety of all my students, I must. A safe option, I do not believe you are.”
“Yoda-” Gunray gasped. “That is a wild accusation based only on bias! Do not make me contact Minister Valo-”
“-Finer line than you think you’re walking, Professor Gunray.” He retorted smoothly, “Tread carefully, I would.”
“And what? We’re to be more dangerous than that raging lunatic you allowed to run amuck last year?” Mr. Kenobi roared. “Or are you still trying to hide behind Dooku’s supposed evil ways.”
Supposed?
Was that it now? Were his parents so engrossed in their own victim complex that they believed that Dooku was never a threat? That this was just some conspiracy?
“Many shapes and sizes, threats come in,” Yoda said, “Seen all of them, I have.”
“It matters not what you think,” His mother said in a low venomous voice, “He’s our son and we’re taking him. Today.”
Obi-Wan’s jaw dropped.
“Do that, you cannot.” Yoda was voicing the same thought that immediately smacked Obi-Wan in the head. “A student he is.”
“He’s officially eighteen, Yoda,” Grunted his father and the sound of his heavy walking stick clang against the stone floor- just once, as if to prove a point of his command over the room. “He can leave whenever he wishes to.”
“And he will wish to.” His mother said tightly. “Isn’t that right, Asajj?”
“Of course,” And though he couldn’t see her from his position, he would know the icy undertones of Ventress’ snake-like voice. She sounded relaxed, or as though she was trying to sound as much, and suddenly, Obi-Wan realized what this was.
“Of course not,” He cut in, making his presence known as he finished his ascent up the steps, taking care to absorb the expression on his parents’ faces. He wanted to remember this, even if it hurt.
Maybe that was the worst part, that it still hurt. They wanted to take him away from all the happiness he’d ever known, from his studies, from his success, just because they were so ridiculously miserable in their own right.
And it still hurt.
“Boy-” His father hardly reacted, his face as gray and stoney as the gargoyle down below.
“-You said it yourself,” Obi-Wan cut off, “I’m eighteen years old. And as you also said, I can go if I wish, which I most assuredly do not.”
He gave a hard look to Professor Gunray and Lott Dodd, who were staring at him with speculative orange eyes. Surely, they were looking for a loophole in his statement, as his parents probably encouraged them to, but he would not be giving them anything to work with. He felt no remorse for whatever professional retribution came to them for it. Not when they aligned themselves so easily in this ordeal.
“Obi-Wan, you knew this day was coming,” His mother stepped towards him, slowly, like she was trying to placate him or test the ground before getting too close, “Now, it isn’t safe here for you anymore, as you so strongly insisted when you were all discussing the second task.”
“No,” He kept it simple. “That’s hogwash. You don’t care about the tournament. You never have! You only want to manipulate me as you’ve always done for years.”
“That is not true!” She scoffed, “We’ve given you a good life, with endless fortune, and the resources to succeed. Your father and I only urge that you use them.”
“And marry her, you mean.” He glared at Ventress, who fluttered her fingers in the corner. Behind that smirk, he could see her own distaste in all of this. Likely, she was just pleased by his own upset.
He felt a remark asking about Quinlan on his tongue, but he wasn’t like her, he wouldn’t need to pull her below the surface to stay afloat.
“I’m afraid you do not have an option on that account, son,” His father quirked the corner of his mouth in what Obi-Wan guessed was supposed to be a smile, “You’ve already signed a contract dictating that you will indeed pursue this marriage.”
And with the snap of his fingers, a document that Obi-Wan hadn’t seen since he was ten years old appeared out of nowhere, penned a bit sloppily at the bottom, indicating that he hadn’t practiced it to perfection just yet. At the top, was a clear Kenobi crest pressed into the page.
And he was angry.
Like the past eighteen years were coming back to him, in flashes of yes, foul words and intimidation, but it was the undercurrent of remorse that stained deep from cold stares and purposeful neglect, that vibrated and sparked an energy not discovered before.
It wasn’t uncontrollable malice nor was it anything he’d wish to inflict on anyone else. It didn’t feel like black tar on his heart. It was more like pushing back against a door that’s closed on you for so long. It was breaking out of a box that was suffocating and far too tight to breathe.
It was like ripped stitches. Or a splinch mark that went untreated. Laying on it at night and remembering his mistakes and hating himself far more than they could ever bring themselves to care enough to hate him. Perhaps if they did, that would be better. But there wasn’t the notice nor the passion behind it.
For so many years, he believed he was lacking for feeling so much, for being hurt by their callousness or longing for their praise. He thought something was broken within him for yearning to float away and be elsewhere, for seeing school as a possible escape. Even when he tried to lock himself up and be like them, he was still the black sheep.
But it was not he who was lacking.
He snatched the contract from mid-air, grasping and crumbling it in his hands like it held no greater importance than a used napkin. That wasn’t enough to prove his point, though, so he ripped it. Not once, not twice, but more times than he could count until his shoes were covered in little flurries of white parchment.
“Are you quite finished with these pitiful theatrics?” His father asked, crossing his arms, “Because if you believed that was the only copy, you certainly don’t fit that crown of wisdom you carry in your conceit.”
“You’re a damn fool if you think I actually believe that document is worth anything.” Obi-Wan said.
“These procedures are far more complicated than you could possibly understand, Headmaster.” Lott Dodd said, “We cannot appear to be playing favorites.”
“Simple, this is,” Yoda said.
“No, what’s simple is that this marriage is happening. Our families will be united and we will continue to prosper for centuries to come.” His mother said and nodded to Ventress to stand up. “Read the lines you wrote.”
Ventress did stand and had a piece of parchment ready in her hands.
“I’m not doing this,” Obi-Wan swore, “And you cannot make me.”
“Perhaps, we cannot,” His father said, “But there are more than enough influential people that likely can… Should the correct pressure point be pushed.”
“Threat that is?” Yoda asked.
“No, of course not, why would we threaten our own son?” His mother laughed in a matter that was so fake that it almost made him gag as he remembered the many parties and tea times he’d heard it ringing through the halls.
“Because you don’t care about me!” Obi-Wan said.
“Stop spreading such slander! I birthed you and your father provided for us!”
“Those are not equivalents to love.” He said and looked to Ventress, “And whatever it is, I don’t care. You are just further proving that you do not know me at all with this whole ridiculous and desperate charade to keep me locked down.”
Then, Obi-Wan laughed, “Actually, that makes sense, since you truly don’t know me at all.”
“I know I will sooner be dead than watch my son throw his life away for some mudblood girl!” His father shouted and the room went cold.
He’d never explicitly heard his father say that word without significant effects of alcohol reigning his cognitive abilities, but he was not drunk and he was entirely sincere. Judging by the smoothness at which it came out, he’d wager it was said far more behind closed doors.
“Tolerate that language, we will not!” Yoda immediately interjected, “Shutting this down, I am.”
“Like hell you are!” His mother shrieked and looked to Lott Dodd.
“Yoda, there are legal proceedings to pursue here,” Lott said, “I’ve already begun the process of the unbreakable vow.”
And it seemed he had, a strand of glowing magic, black as ink, had already begun to dispel from Lott’s wand.
But Obi-Wan didn’t care if it reverberated and took everyone in this room with it at that moment. He just couldn’t stop staring with deep contempt towards his father, finding that this was not to just be the moment he rejected this ludicrous union once and for all, but this family.
Though he’d begun to take such precautions should it be necessary, he realized that with that one foul and evil word, he would not be able to change them or convince them otherwise. They were gone.
Or maybe, they were never here at all.
“That-” He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word for emphasis, “That girl has been more of a family to me than either of you have been my entire lives.” He pointed, “As has Cody and the Fetts and Qui-Gon and every other professor I’ve had here.”
Both of them snorted, like that was meaningless to them, but he supposed it was. They would never hold the same things valuable and Obi-Wan found that to be such a profound relief that he could have cried.
“And honestly? I’m just realizing now that not only do I want nothing to do with this marriage, but I want absolutely nothing to do with either of you ever again.”
“You don’t mean-” His mother’s eyes widened.
“-Yes mother, I do. In your dogged and contrived attempts to constrict me, you’ve lost me.” He looked to his father too, “And I feel sorry for you.”
“For us? This will be the biggest mistake you have ever made! And that is speaking volumes given you have always been a failure.” He said. “I don’t think you understand the gravity at which our influence can cause.”
“That means nothing to me.” He said, even if it might still hurt, for a little while. “Not when I can finally have my freedom.”
“Rest assured, you will not be escaping us.” He said. “Not ever. We will ensure you feel this mark today. We will see that you come crawling back to us someday.”
“I believe that is a threat,” He looked to Yoda who nodded, “Brilliant, then I’ll see you in court,” Obi-Wan said, turning back to face his mother, who still had the decency to appear shocked. “I assume you’ll be wearing crocodile tears to match your purse.”
Her hand cut through the air with blinding speed, though Obi-Wan was not blind-sighted, catching her wrist tightly in his hand, allowing himself to squeeze just enough to hold her in place to look into her green eyes.
To make sure it sunk in.
“This ends here” Obi-Wan said, voice low and daring her to say otherwise, “People who love each other don’t do this, but if you’ve ever cared for me at all, you’ll let me go.”
She stared at him, eyes absent of tears that any other sane parent would shed at the separation their son was cementing here and now. However, unlike his father, she did seem to realize that she would not be pulling him back into the palm of her hand; that he wasn’t the little boy that could be scared or embarrassed into doing their bidding.
But still, the most surprised was Obi-Wan when she simply shook off his hold and slowly walked back to stand behind his father.
“But the vow- ” Lott Dodd panicked, clearly afraid that he was going to accidentally write himself into a corner as the distributor. Gunray, who was already in the process of penning a letter to the Minister of Magic, looked just as concerned.
He rolled his eyes, “Write this down as your bloody vow: I am formally submitting my own emancipation from the Kenobi family, claiming only what I’ve got to my name. I will hereby be refuting any income or benefit from the title and the estate along with it. I will have none of theirs and they will have none of mine.”
“... Are you sure? I’ve seen the will and this is quite-”
“-Most ardently.” Obi-Wan said over his shoulder before turning the way he came, disappearing back down the stairs and allowing the sense of finality wash over him.
***
“Kenobi!” Ventress called after him as she raced down the steps, feet having to move at a rapid pace to just try and remain within earshot of him. He wasn’t running, not physically anyway, but took long and purposeful strides that advanced him as though he were operating automatically.
“Kenobi, stop!” She said louder, expecting him to hastily bow back so as to prevent them from drawing a scene away from neighboring classes. He was a goody two shoes at the very core, after all.
He didn’t turn, moving quickly, but not like an inmate escaping prison, but a new man- someone Ventress could not recognize even though it had only been moments since he wore the chains that tugged at her neck. She could almost hear her own mother’s (or the woman who called herself such) venomous voice telling her how worthless she was and how she’d failed for the last time.
She saw, in horror, her own plan fall before her eyes. The connections, the power, the ability to gain access to dismantling Dooku’s own success. All of it. It got further and further from her with every deliberate step he took. The vows she’d written, carefully phrased and promising the loophole of her future escape plan, crumpled in between tightly coiled fingers. If it weren’t for the letterhead, she would have drawn blood in the palms of her hands.
This entitled brat of a boy, who’d never had to lose anything outside of a pathetic old muttonhead who was certifiably insane, believed he could destroy her plans? He believed he could just say no to all of this? Even after Ventress had been willing to sacrifice everything, even her own happiness, to accomplish her mission?
She’d given up Quinlan. So easily. Because in the end, that was nothing but lust and temporary satisfaction in comparison to the years of change she sought to bring upon the community. It would have been meaningless in contrast to her reunion with her sisters.
And her sisters. She was giving up her pride in pledging herself to the very people involved in their downfall. Though it wasn’t written in history books, she knew now based on Quinlan’s visions that the Kenobis were involved in bringing an end to her true family. At the very least, they’d brought her to her adopted one. And that was bad on its own.
She would destroy them all, but first she needed them.
All of that was about to be for naught, by the smug bastard that believed throwing in the towel was a noble option worthy of applause.
Well, she’d give him a show.
Wand drawn and ready, she began spitting out spells feverishly, her own head spinning at how she thrashed through the air. Spools of color burst towards him like webs, but without even looking, his own wand was drawn and swirled in defense, surrounding himself with a shield charm that she’d never even seen before.
All without saying a single word on the matter.
“KENOBI!” She shouted and whatever bubble he was ensconced in popped enough for him to whip around, meeting the growing intensity of her malice, which were slowed and diffused, cast aside just as Ventress would be. Still, there was no tension, no anger, no hate. Now, Ventress didn’t believe he was capable of that either. “YOU ARE RUINING EVERYTHING!”
“You’ve done that yourself!” He countered.
“Like hell I have! You are walking away from everything you’ve sworn yourself to! What happened to honor? What happened to nobility? What happened to your damn word?”
“What happened to independence?” He asked. “You don’t need me!”
No, she didn’t. Not in the literal sense, but she would need him to pay for how terribly he was inconveniencing her.
“Enough of this, Ventress,” He said, but she did not stop.
She kept swinging her wand less delicately, more haphazardly, like she was imagining it to be a knife cutting through his smarmy face. Her breaths were heavy and her spells lacking precision, hitting around him rather than catching the tip of his wand. Each looked like shards of technicolor crashing heavily against stone.
If she would not be signing his name in that contractual agreement, she would be signing death papers, and was determined to see to this as the dark feeling within her consumed her yet again. She couldn’t see it, but felt it, as her eyes embraced the teachings of her former master.
But Kenobi was no slouch, hesitant as she was to admit that, because he parried and dispelled each of her attempts, which became less and less soft the more she missed.
“You’re going to hurt someone!” He said.
“That’s kind of the goal,” She returned and shoved forward a gust of air, one that would have knocked the wind out of him, giving her enough time to drive her wand through his skull. However, she was too absorbed in her own pleasure at such a thought, that her foot slipped and she lost her own stance and balance, which was necessary for such an attack, that the hex reverberated back on her, sending her flying so hard that she smacked the back set of stone stairs not far from them.
“Ventress!” She heard him call and the sound of approaching steps.
Dazed and scorched by a flame that burned too bright, she breathed, trying to gain composure and hating above all else that this was happening in front of him.
“Are you alright?” He was kneeling before her, though not in the way his parents would have wanted. He watched her with pity, not with devotion or acceptance of fate. He was being nice and that was the worst part of all.
“Don’t…” She found the air capacity to breathe out immediate rejection to his reach. She could not promise that she wouldn’t do something that would land her in Azkaban. Despite the ease at which she slipped into that obsidian unknown, she did not want to be the same person she was the year before.
Quinlan had taught her that, even if he’d likely never speak to her again after this day. She figured it would be unfit to completely have wasted his time and to murder Kenobi the moment she stepped away from him.
“I’m sorry,” He said, weighing carefully on his words.
She heaved, narrowing her eyes at him, “No you aren’t.”
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you,” He said honestly.
“You shouldn’t be,” She spat, the glob landing on his pristine shoe. He didn’t flinch nor shake that unwavering look of kindness on his face.
“Maybe not,” He said, “But this would have never worked.”
“It would have worked in the ways that were necessary,” She argued, “And now you seek to end your bloodline for some foolhardy pursuit of happiness in favor of duty.”
“It would have worked for you, you mean,” He corrected and slowly stood up, “There are more important things than blood. I sincerely believed you would understand that more than anyone.”
“You really are a fool,” She scoffed.
“You are too if you hadn’t seen this coming.”
Honestly, she didn’t. She’d been so enchanted by her own secret romance that she hadn’t bothered to consider just how far out of the shadows Kenobi had stepped. Maybe, this wasn’t just a new rendition of him, but one that she hadn’t taken care to notice until now.
“I do wish you the best though,” He said, wiping her spit from his shoe against the ground, “And that you are able to find whatever it is you’re looking for. I do not believe I would have been able to help in this realm of the living anyway.”
“No,” She said tightly.
“But that very well might have been the point,” His eyes weren’t accusing nor upset, but understanding of all things. She wanted to slap it off his face.
“They’re going to eat you alive out there, Kenobi,” She swatted his outstretched hand instead and pushed herself back onto her feet, growing a bit dizzy at how suddenly she’d stood after depleting her power, “Fortune does not favor the kind.”
“There are more important things than fortune too, Ventress.” He said and then tilted his head, “I believed you had started to understand that for yourself. Perhaps… With someone else.”
And the way he looked at her, oh, if Ventress hadn’t already been exhausted for all that she was worth, she would have killed him. Especially for how it reminded her of the promises she’d broken. When she realized his family was the very reason she was here, away from the Nightsisters, she’d snapped back into place.
She’d desired nothing more than tearing them down.
And in that process, she’d sacrificed the one thing that had made her anywhere near happiness.
“You will stay out of my way if you know what’s good for you,” She said, pushing him aside, “You’re right, I don’t need you now. Which makes you expendable.”
“A pleasure, as always.” She could hear the eyeroll in his voice.
***
Satine was worried.
She hadn’t been able to focus in the slightest during class ever since Ben had been called to Headmaster Yoda’s office. Whatever it was, it had to be important, because she knew that he wouldn’t otherwise want to miss the lecture on advanced nonverbal spells. However, she was just as absent as he was as the thought of what such urgency could mean.
When she couldn’t take it any longer, her hand shot up nearly at its own accord, immediately capturing Professor Windu’s attention.
“Miss Kryze?” He asked. “I thought I told you and Mr. Kenobi to wait until I finish asking the questions before you propose answers to them.”
“Yes sir,” That had happened four years ago and was still embarrassing, “I was just requesting to use the restroom.”
“Oh!” He nodded, and it was no secret that Windu never denied girls access to the bathroom, as he was too petrified that they might be on their monthly and decide to go into the specifics of the female anatomy.
That had also been Satine four years ago when he’d told her to wait until he finished his lecture.
“Yes, of course.” He said and Satine hopped to her feet with the urgency of someone who did have to use the loo. It needn’t be practiced, really. Not when her mind was going to all of the worst places regarding Obi-Wan’s meeting with the headmaster.
She moved briskly through the empty halls, greeting ghosts and poltergeists along her way. She was glad that she did, because two of the ghosts: Stellan and Elzar, a bickering duo as it were, discussed witnessing a rather heated duel just outside of Headmaster Yoda’s corridors.
Naturally, Satine’s mind went to Dooku, though it didn’t make much sense as to how he would get into the building, as well as that crumpled expression on Obi-Wan’s face when Qui-Gon’s lifeless body had been carried back inside. She hadn’t seen what he looked like beneath the sheet they shrouded him in, but the pale and haunted look on Obi-Wan was enough to paint a picture.
“A duel?” She had no issue cutting into their conversation.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” The younger looking of the two ghosts, Elzar, did not hesitate to question her presence.
Stellan, bearded and wise by demeanor and nature, as he’d spent most of his lifeless days in the library, smiled at her, “There was a duel between students, nothing to be alarmed about.”
That was even more puzzling, though majorly alleviating that it wasn’t yet another attack from the Sith. Once she had the space to be relieved that Obi-Wan wasn’t engaging in a 1v1 against Dooku, she was able to redirect her brain to whatever else he could have possibly gotten himself into.
Dueling was strictly prohibited outside of class and something Obi-Wan would never initiate. Unless, maybe, he’d been the one to catch them? She wasn’t sure, but she moved faster, not quite running in case she were caught, but also not carrying a normal pace.
She would slow down once she saw him, because something about how smoothly things had been going for them and him, especially, meant that there had to be a catch somewhere. She wouldn’t lie and say she didn’t occasionally think about the possibility of his parents swooping in and stealing him, locking him away forever. She’d rescue him, of course, but the thought of how that possibility always existed was never comforting.
She passed Anakin, of all people, who looked a bit down even if he really wasn’t supposed to be out of class. Neither was she, of course, so she wouldn’t be bringing it up this time.
“Satine!” He looked up, “Did… You get Obi-Wan anything good for his birthday?”
It was an odd question, seeing as they weren’t technically speaking. Well, Ben had tried, but the various letters he was leaving for Anakin were not being returned.
“I got him some books he’d been asking about,” She said, trying not to sound winded, “Have you?”
His eyes flickered towards where he’d come from and his face darkened, “I guess not.”
She frowned, not understanding what that was supposed to mean, but they went opposite directions and she carried on with her brisk pace.
Ventress was also stalking away from whatever scene she’d caused and Satine really didn’t pay that any mind, releasing a heavy sigh when she saw Obi-Wan approaching, unscathed and beautiful as always.
Actually, he was more handsome than usual, should that even be possible. Because when he looked at her, golden sunlight glittered in his hair and skin, making him appear to glow as well. He was tall, and strong, and firm, as though he commanded the earth beneath him, but respected and cared for it all the same. His smile when he saw her stretched so bright and naturally that she swore it could power an entire city on its own merit. He also quickened his pace, moving faster and more confident than she’d ever seen him.
She’d only seen him just an hour ago and it was like she was seeing him for the first time all over again, only better, because she was comfortable in admitting that her heart grew three sizes on the spot.
And she swore the smile that lit up on her own face, whether it be from relief or just from how happy she was to see him, could have split her in half for all she cared.
She was so swept up in how good he looked that she almost didn’t notice that his wand had been drawn. However, she wasn’t given much time to think about that anyway.
“Hey-” She began, but was promptly cut off when he got near, picking her up into an embrace and spinning her a bit, like something out of a fairytale. Her laugh echoed off scorched walls, to which she would surely ask about later, but not now.
Instead, when she was finally placed down, she was dipped, secured between the fold of his arms and outstretched leg, and kissed breathless. Her hands carded through his hair without thought and his mouth slanted against hers, as though trying to consume her right there. She didn’t mind. Though a woman of principle and desires of her own, she didn’t care if he swallowed her whole.
She didn’t know if it went on for minutes or for an eternity. But she tightened her hold around him as he slowly and gradually lifted her back to standing upright.
He didn’t go far, though, his nose bumping into hers and another goofy smile coloring his features beautifully rosy.
“Hello there,” She gasped, embarrassingly breathless.
“Hi.” He kissed her again, softly this time, and she wondered absently when he’d gotten so bold and how to tell him to feel free to do that again.
“What was that for?” She asked.
“That was number one and two of the promised negotiation.” He said softly, “And I’m grateful to have you.”
She stared at him, eyes wide and still breathless but there was something unmistakably different about him. Then, she thought back to the heated way at which Ventress left the scene and she looked at him carefully.
“Ben…” She didn’t know how to ask or if her brain was really functioning enough from that kiss to ask anything, but she tried to formulate her words so as not to phrase anything too harshly.
Realizing he wasn’t going to get away from this without telling her, he shrugged, “I may or may not have told my parents where to stick their pitiful contract.”
“You… No way!” She smacked him on the arm, lighting up even more than she had earlier, “This is not a joking matter!”
“Who’s joking?” Though his eyes were merry and bright.
Freedom suited him, that was for sure.
She couldn’t stop herself, she dove in for another kiss, this one broken by smiles and laughs that melted together before she pulled him into a tight hug.
“I am so proud of you,” She whispered, “Were they mad?”
“Who cares what they think?” He huffed and pulled back again to look at her, “I’m where I need to be anyway.”
And she was damned sure she would prove that for as long as she could.
“Happy birthday, Ben.” She said.
***
Ventress practically lit the halls ablaze as she stormed through them, her heart racing in her chest while she contemplated the sheer weight of her failure. The howlers would be coming, no doubt solidifying the disownment that had been written between lines and disapproving sighs all year.
“I suppose it should have been expected, seeing as you have to be born for this sort of life.”
“This is what we get for taking in a stray.”
“Just like your kind. Feral and untamed. Never suited for civilized society.”
Oh, but Ventress didn’t care. She couldn’t care. She wouldn’t care.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have made it this far, wouldn’t have constantly had to mold the future laid before her to suit her own wants. It had become abundantly clear from a young age that while adopted, she wasn’t accepted. And she never would be, for as long as she lived. Every single act in life was supposed to be as a means of repaying her parents for taking her in. Everything. It didn’t matter.
So, she’d developed nerves of steel and feelings of malice that protected her. She learned not to care for what they said or how they felt, just for how it would need to help her. Kenobi and Quinlan and probably every other person at this school felt it selfish. Dooku had even told her once that she was drowning in her own hate- a task quite difficult for someone preaching a religion that bathed in it. She lacked focus, foresight, and fruition.
Everyone seemed too focused on what they believed she lacked when she knew that in her fingertips, she had the innate abilities to destroy any who crossed her. Moreover, she could make them wallow in their own skeletons first. She knew she could, she’d demonstrated a droplet of that power last year.
And her parents would not be so smugly and stuffily complaining about their daughter’s misgivings with nooses around their necks, strung and hung with the careful delicacy of an invisible hand. It would go above the banister, causing them to dangle just before the large portrait where she’d been forced to wear a dress of muggle making. They’d always likened her to that simplicity, anyway.
Anything to remind her that she didn’t belong.
The small part of Ventress, the part that hid for so long behind a wall of ice and self-forged stone, remembered a time when such things had bothered her. When hearing that she was useless and forgettable cut through her skin and scooped out chunks of her heart. Eventually, nothing was left to spare.
Well, until she’d found Quinlan.
She shook her head, banishing that little trickle of light that flowed like crumbling dust in a deep crevice of her mind’s eye. She hadn’t belonged with him either, not really.
She’d figured that if Kenobi wanted to have a little tryst with Kryze to satiate his desires before they had to write themselves away, she could too. Yes, that’s all it was. It was a fling between her and Quinlan.
Was it a bit overwhelming to discover she had so many desires beyond the barriers of her own distaste and mission? She’d pretended a little too well, deciding to enjoy the present and foolishly act as though the future would not come. It was the first time Ventress had done anything purely for want, not for need or a means.
After all, her marriage with Kenobi was certainly not something she wanted to do. It would exist solely for her need to use his riches, connections, and power, to get revenge. That was how she was to find her belonging. Without the Kenobis, her parents were ready to publicly throw her aside as an outcast, and she would never be taken seriously by anyone.
Quinlan had taken her seriously.
No, she was not doing this. It made her hurt, and Ventress loathed being hurt, especially at her own hand.
His kind eyes, almost golden in the sunlight, watching her with a reverence Ventress did not deserve, speaking in soft tones and with gentle teasing. She almost feared she was defrosting from the inside out and that she wouldn’t have the courage to step away and let go. She’d continued her readings, learning about the last time the Nightsisters had been seen, indulging in the magical tomes that Dooku had translated shortly before his untimely departure. He’d helped her too, feeling useful and like this ambient research was really all it was going to take. Like she didn’t require power to acquire such knowledge.
She’d even been practicing, trying to channel them with a connection spell that only the leader of the Nightsisters could respond to.
If she was even listening.
He thought he was gathering information from back at Durmstrang, teaching her how to maintain her darkness. However, Ventress had always been playing both sides of the game. She didn’t know how not to be both opponents in chess. It was the worst game she’d ever played, yet he’d fallen for it as any good knight would in sacrifice for the queen. That was apparently what love was, after all, sacrifice.
But she could not sacrifice her mission. It had, in many ways, become who she was. She could not see an end that didn’t involve her with her sisters. Maybe she didn’t have to kill Dooku someday. Maybe she didn’t need to enact this bloodthirsty revenge that still sometimes agonized her in the midst of the night.
Maybe, she just needed to belong.
Yes, but that spoke of someone who was flying too close to the sun. She never felt it more than she had the night before, laying in Quinlan’s arms for one last time. If tears had snuck down her cheek, no one had to know but the wooden walls of the belly of Durmstrang’s ship. She knew it would be final. She knew that the Kenobis would come for her when she’d intercepted the letter earlier that morning.
She’d penned him a note, leaving him sleeping and temporarily preserved in their fleeting romance. When he awoke, he would be met with the harsh reality of her decisions, and would never forgive her.
And for now, she would hide like a coward.
“EVERYONE OUT!” She shrieked as she burst through the prefect girl’s bathroom on the third floor, not willing to make eye contact with anyone. She must have looked like a horrible mess, not that she cared much for appearances at this point.
Despite every person within this particular bathroom being a figure of authority within these walls, they all scattered with urgency. Those who paused even a moment to finish washing their hands or otherwise were met with haphazard beams of green and blue shattering the mirrors in front of them, not doing any physical damage, but serving as enough incentive to make haste.
When the door finally shut behind the last retreating girl, Ventress slunk to the floor along the stone wall, having lost all ability to maintain a facade of strength. In her naivety, she hadn’t cultivated a backup plan, so sure that Kenobi would not be so bold as to forsake his family name in full. However, she hardly recognized him from the coward she’d grown up with. He was as resolute as Ventress was lost.
She was lost to her adopted family, or perhaps never found.
She was cast away by Dooku and the Sith, regardless of her ample potential.
And she’d thrown Quinlan away like trash, in hopes of finding her sisters.
There was really only one last hope, one that didn’t rest on hope at all. Near her foot, she scooped up one of the shards of glass that had fallen to the wayside from her tantrum. She turned it over in her hands as she had many different weapons through the years. Anything could technically be a weapon if repurposed with that intent in mind, but weapons were just tools in the end.
Just like Ventress.
She smoothly let the sharpest point of the shard glaze across the palm of her hand, not even offering a flinch as it drew blood. Then, after admiring a steady stream coursing down her arm, tracing her veins like cobwebs, she reached for her wand once again and gripped it tightly. With her unharmed hand, she clenched the offending piece of glass, gazing at the red-stained expression of a sweaty, hopeless, wench of a descendent of the most powerful witches known to man.
She could die here and she knew it, as this spell was not for the unworthy. It was a last resort and not even scribed in english for translation. One had to expel and sacrifice all hopes and desires, all dreams and traces of love, all strains of happiness. There had to be blood and suffering and could only be properly completed when a person was at their lowest point, when they could be broken no more. Rock bottom, as some may label it.
It was a place Ventress had never deigned to enter. She had too much pride, too much ambition, too much drive.
But she’d failed and she’d betrayed. She would not be welcome here nor anywhere. She was a true outcast.
A true Nightsister.
A choking sensation came over her and a spout of foam burst from her lips, spilling in green fruition on the floor and painting a vision of death, of pain, of torture. Green smoke filled the room and she could truly no longer breathe, everything going dark save for the smoke and foam that filled her lungs, interspersed only with blood.
Until there was only an answer.
A man, shrouded in mystery and black, short and weaponizing the torment of those around him, striking lightning upon an entire village of women, children, and refugees. The screams were shrill, the smell of blood potent, the death imminent. One brave warrior fought tooth and nail to get to the front, lunging for him with a spear at hand, only to be ripped apart by an invisible set of hands, her remains spraying across the shrieking survivors.
A blood soaked hand reached up, only to be stamped down and crushed beneath the force of a claw unfamiliar to Ventress. It was a child’s and Ventress could not get to them in time. Only that it was quick, blessedly.
She couldn’t see more than that, more than the sound of bones crunching and distorting to the whim of whatever beast had been unleashed upon them.
And she was there, even if she really wasn’t, and watched those she loved fall to this unspeakable being, who wanted nothing more than their power. He emerged finally, with a boy coming from the masses, eyes bright and confused as a wrinkled hand was placed on his shoulder.
“You will go very far, my boy.”
And though Ventress could not see him, she knew this boy to be the sinister Maul.
That… Couldn’t be? Taken from her village? Raised by her people, only to be brought for slaughter and murder.
This was sacrifice.
The man smiled, teeth crooked and decaying, “And now comes the end of the infamous Witches of Dathomir.”
Ventress opened her mouth to scream, finding only light pouring out at a blinding rate, one that caused the vision to eclipse itself, breaking it from the bones, and sending it spiraling into obscurity, until she was taken elsewhere.
This was an empty cavern, maroon and rough with only rocks and dirt filling the void. Ventress could not see her corporeal body this time, but she could still feel the pounding sensation of the fallen women before her, weighing her down to the point of lethargy. She fell to her knees unceremoniously, even if she couldn’t see that much.
A woman, all dressed in red, with long hands and ghostly white skin just as hers. Her eyes were soulless and green, glowing without pupils and lips parted to hum quietly to a soft sound of foreboding drums.
“Come to me. Come help me rise. Find me where all have looked but none could see. You see me… You see me.”
Her lips didn’t move, but Ventress heard a hiss of whispers around her, consuming her, and she could identify them as those of the fallen. She glanced to all sides, noticing that they were entombed here, wherever here actually was. They hung wrapped and molded in a clay-like substance, as a caterpillar would in a cocoon.
They were always kept close.
And with a burning feeling across her chest, she felt they were close and not just in a metaphorical sentiment, but in something real that she had never felt before.
“I do see.” Ventress replied, surprised that her voice came across like an echo in the cavern, repeating to the beat of the underscore of drums that distantly played.
“You have lost… You have struggled… You wish to kill…”
“I will do whatever it takes.” She said.
Ventress’ hand started to ache tremendously. Suddenly, she was pulled by it dramatically forward, the hot air of this atmosphere beating against her skin until she was stopped only inches from this matriarch’s sharp face, almost punctured by the tip of her chin. She was left to stare at this unmoving figure and admire her fortitude and her beauty, immediately identifying her as the one they called Talzin.
A hand was raised from oblivion and Ventress watched with curiosity until she realized it belonged to her. It was coated in red, dripping to the point of a lightheadedness coming over her. If she didn’t feel completely detached as it were, she was sure she would faint.
However, her grip on consciousness persisted long enough, for the woman’s eyes to fade back to normal. She pulled her closer, so her lips brushed against her ear, breathing softly for only a moment. It was grounding, yet terrifying, as it felt as though her mind was being invaded.
“Hello, my sister.”
She pulled out a set of sheers and raised them above her head. Realizing that this was it, Ventress closed her eyes in preparation for impact. She was ready to die.
She blinked and she was back on the floor of the girl’s bathroom, surrounded by a small pool of blood. Her hand, however, was completely healed, without even a scar in sight. She looked around her, eyes burning as though they hadn’t rested in days, and head swimming with thoughts that didn’t entirely belong to her.
“We are where you belong, sister. It is your destiny… And now, we are your mind, body, and spirit. You are us and we are you…”
She gasped, finding her wand now curved at the hilt from the impact of the spell. She tucked it away in her robe and ran a hand through her hair, shocked to find that there was nothing there to sift through.
She leapt to her feat, ignoring the headrush that immediately followed and stared in the sole mirror untouched by her own destruction, to find herself completely bald and without a trace of hair on the floor or on her robes. She raked her hands over the smooth surface of her skin again and again as though this would cause it to regrow. She didn’t necessarily hate the look, but found it shocking as she did the little black lines now stretching from the corners of her lower lip to her chin.
A mark, perhaps, but one she hadn’t expected to be done remotely.
She stared through herself for a moment longer, letting the severity of what had happened truly sink in, standing in the mess she’d made. She was Asajj Ventress and she was a Nightsister.
A Witch of Dathomir.
“You know where to look,” Spoke a hissing voice that hadn’t come from anywhere in this bathroom.
“You’ve always known.”
And she did.
She turned, shedding her Slytherin robe, tie, and vest onto the floor in a heap and walked confidently out the door, a warm sense of knowing flooded over her with every step she took.
“Where do you think you’re going?” A voice called after her.
She ignored it.
She was going home.
“Miss Ventress! You will come back right this way! You cannot just destroy school property and get away with it!” Professor Ti followed behind her, clearly having been told by some of the other prefects what had happened. Ventress paid her no mind though, and kept moving, her head held high.
There was something freeing about it, leaving everything behind, walking away from everything she ever knew and hated. This school hadn’t raised her. It only contained her greatness and kept her from who she was trying to be.
She would find who destroyed her family, but she would find her family first.
“This is the final straw, Ventress, you will be suspended for your actions!”
“Good.” Ventress said smoothly before shoving through a sea of students, losing herself to the crowd that caused her to swim upstream. She felt like she was positively floating anyway, guided by the blinking beacon in her mind’s eye, one that would take her far beyond where this school ever could anymore.
Whispers from her classmates at her shocking new appearance radiated around her, but all eventually parted, allowing for her to pass without so much as a spell being cast. She didn’t need to yell or scream, but simply carried herself with an aura of new purpose.
“Ventress? Where are you going?” Asked Faro Argyus. “We have Charms at-”
She could have laughed. Charms? She cared not for Charms or Potions or DADA or any of the other organized educational wastes of time that had been thrown at her. She didn’t need any of it or any of them and she had finally, in the darkest hours, found what she was looking for.
Revenge would be sweet.
“Tell Professor Windu I’ll simply take the F.” She said, “I don’t need grades anymore.”
And with that, she walked out through the front door and he didn’t look back.
***
“Tell me, what exactly went wrong?” Sidious hissed into the small fireplace in the corner of his office. He didn’t have much time, as he had places to be and problems to fix. Nothing new there, of course. If he wanted anything done correctly, it was obvious he’d have to do it himself. How silly of him to expect menial tasks to be completed by his lesser than. That would be too ridiculous to fathom.
“Like I told Tyranus several times-” And Gunray sounded weary and a bit broken, which meant that Tyranus likely hadn’t been gentle with him. While a bit bristled that he’d taken such action upon himself, Sidious couldn’t bring himself to be angry about it. Not when he hardly had the time to dole out punishments at the moment.
“I’d reconsider your tone of voice when speaking to me, Professor.” Sidious growled. Though he didn’t have time, he could make it.
“-Apologies, Lord Sidious,” He said hastily and if the Neimodian could get on hands and knees to bow down and kiss the Sith lord’s feet, he surely would have in that moment. He would have kicked him in the face if that had happened, hoping to knock his head in a different direction.
“But I haven’t the faintest idea what happened,” Gunray explained.
“Surely, something occurred, as helpless Hutts cannot walk themselves into the arms of someone else,” He said tightly, “You dropped the ball somewhere.”
“Well, it was a very busy night!” He tried to explain, likely thinking up a way to pin the blame entirely on Ziro, even if that might have been correct to some degree, “We set the child down in Professor Tahl’s office as it was unlocked to avoid getting caught-”
“Professor Tahl, you say,” Sidious leaned back in his seat, stroking his wrinkly chin.
“Yes, and then when we returned just a short minute later, he was gone!” He grew more manic reliving it, as though this were the fulcrum to many nights of lost sleep. Good, he needed to feel the pressure of his own failure. “I swear to you, my Lord, that little brat was being kept at the ratchet hut owned by the lowly groundskeeper! I could swear a child had been there after we inspected the place.”
“I see.”
He knew of the Fett’s involvement. That much had already been made certain to him, however, he had extremely high doubts they worked completely alone. Cody Fett was notoriously single-minded and his grades stood to prove it, the twins were hardly activists in their own rights and would have blabbed the plan to the school by mistake, and surely Rex would have involved Anakin, which would have immediately alerted his favorite professor one way or another.
Not to mention that simpleton of an over-glorified gardener. They should have dumped the role the moment the last one fell so easily to Maul’s savagery. Any wizard that couldn’t stand to protect himself or his peers wasn’t worthy of being here. Especially something as disgustingly vile as a squib.
He’d almost prefer a mudblood.
But overall, the Music Professor had drawn very little attention to him this year and for good reason. She wouldn’t be long for this place anyway, not if he got his way, and aside from being involved in Head of House meetings, she’d hardly even been on his radar. It was too brilliant, in a sense, seeing as he’d mostly figured out his score of enemies over the years after years of working alongside them and developing the guise of friendships with them.
But not Tahl.
No, this woman was, indeed, a mystery. One that he hadn’t bothered with the previous semester, when he most certainly should have. The more he considered her- the way she encouraged the schools to integrate and involve themselves amongst each other as well as actively opposed almost all of Gunray’s points and decisions… It was as though she was intentional as a perfect foil.
And where did she come from? Truly.
“What will become of the situation now, Master Sidious?” He asked tentatively.
The situation he fumbled. Yes, it truly would be Sidious’ responsibility to iron out all the details.
“Jabba cannot discover the involvement of the Sith,” He said, “Such a thing would cause the Hutts to eventually choose the wrong side. We need them to stay neutral at the very least.”
“But I thought gaining their interest was to be an important claim for the Separatists!” Gunray objected.
“It could have been, if it had been done properly,” If Gunray could see his eyes, he’d note that they were narrowed with malice.
To this end, Gunray had no commentary, which for his sake, was a blessing. It was not Sidious who should be answering to him as though he were the lackey that didn’t show up. No, this was a mess formed by incompetence at its finest and would require a more delicate touch to be mended if it should work that way.
“Find out more on this Professor Tahl, Gunray,” He said, crossing his hands in his lap as he pondered his thoughts.
Gunray seemed surprised by that, but then again, anything absent of strict punishment was likely an astonishing turn of events for him.
“Tahl? But what about the Fetts? Surely you want revenge for-”
“-Don’t worry about vengeance.” He cut him off, “That time will come, but for now, we must figure out what the Music Professor’s intentions are. Because as it stands, I’m not quite so sure.”
“You believe she might be a problem?”
“I believe that’s for you to find out.”
***
If there was one person Cody hadn’t expected to find sitting at his best mate’s table in the library, it was Quinlan Vos. It wasn’t as though Durmstrang’s finest was even sitting with Kenobi or Kryze, which while that would have been a bit odd, there would be some contextual explanation for it. Instead, he was completely alone, even away from the googly eyed girls that always seemed to follow him around.
And strangest of all, was that he looked quite down.
“Alright there, mate?” Cody asked, unable to just turn on his heels and go look for his friends elsewhere, “The Arrows didn’t drop you already, did they?”
Quinlan looked up, tearing his bleary eyes away from a book on pureblood family crests, and focusing on Cody. It seemed a small part of him considered taking the bait, but he looked too tired to do so, “No, just reading. Have you seen Kenobi?”
“Is this about the third task?” Cody changed courses, realizing that though it was a bit of a distance away, that it was always possible that new revelations would come about.
Still, he shook his head, locks bobbing in place, “Nah, just wondering. You always seem to be trailing around him.”
“First of all, I’m the faster runner AND walker,” Cody flared, “If anyone’s trailing anyone, it’s him! Secondly, I don’t know what kind of bummer news you’ve got to give him, but I like to make a point of vetting it first. He’s got a lot on his plate, you know.”
“That sounds like a lame excuse at finding out why I’m sitting alone in the library,” Quinlan said.
“I had strong doubts you could read,” Cody pointed out, “And I’ve never seen you without your entourage following you around.”
Quinlan snorted, though a smile never came to his lips. He traced an aimless circle on the page in front of him, “Have you ever been dumped?”
“From what? A quidditch team? No, and not because most have been forged by my brothers and I.” Cody said.
“No, dummy, by a girl,” Then he looked at Cody carefully, “Or guy, I suppose.”
“You saw how well my Yule Ball date went,” He reminded him, “You know, while you were aiding and abetting the Kenobi-Kryze tension.”
“How did you deal with that?” He asked.
“When did I become the person everyone came to for love advice?” He said, “Though in this case, it’s the opposite of love, I’d wager.”
“I- I don’t know,” Quinlan shrugged, “I don’t know what it was.”
“Well, I wasn’t really that banged up about it, to be honest.” Cody said, “I had other pressing concerns going on and the dance was more fun without a date. Sometimes, I think life really would be in general. But you know, there’s plenty of Gulping Plimpies in the sea.”
“I’ve never felt this way before,” He said, “I feel like a bloody dumb fool, to be honest with you.”
“She was a Slytherin, I’m guessing,” Cody took a seat across from him and shook his head, “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have supported them in the tournament. That was your first mistake, mate.”
“Yeah, maybe,” He chuckled, but it still fell flat, “I think my second mistake was ignoring just about every red flag being waved right under my nose.”
“Love is blind,” Cody said, “My brother Fives’ favorite quidditch team is the Canons.”
Quinlan wrinkled his nose, “They’re awful!”
“Haven’t had a win in years,” Cody shook his head, “But he still loves them and sees them as the best. Just like you and this mystery lady.”
“I’m starting to see my flaws in that,” Quinlan deadpanned, “I just thought there was more in her than there was.”
“Fives also thinks that the Canons are going to the World Cup every time,” Cody said, “Believe me, I understand delusions. You can’t talk sense into someone until they see it for themselves.”
“Do you think he ever will?” Quinlan asked.
“Doubtful, he’s too loyal,” Cody said, “I can’t see him ever cheering for a different team.”
“Maybe I can change his mind with some free seats to the Arrows?” Quinlan suggested.
“If he’s watching anyone play professionally, it’s going to be me,” Cody said pointedly, “Don’t think that just because I’m taking pity on your sad soul that I’ve forgotten about your quidditch smack talk.”
“Fair enough,” Quinlan conceded, “For what it’s worth, I do think you’ll go pro… Eventually.”
Cody rolled his eyes, “And I think some brainless fool will fall in love with you… Someday. If you ever learn what a shirt is.”
“I get hot!” He said defensively.
“Yeah sure.”
“Would you believe that I’ve never been broken up with?”
“Yeah, absolutely,” Cody said, “But I also don’t think you’ve actually been interested in anyone enough to date them before.”
“I do like keeping things casual,” He said, “My line of work was always dangerous.”
“I was kind of suggesting that you’re a bit of a tramp,” Cody laughed, “But sure, yeah.”
Quinlan did laugh at that, “Look, it’s easier that way sometimes! But really, I think the press paints me more in that light than what’s actually true. I’m sure you get that.”
“It really makes no difference to me,” Cody said, “But hey, who’s to say you and this chick can’t work it out? Just flex the guns a bit around here and I’m sure that’ll work.”
“Uh, she made it pretty clear,” He said, “Let’s just say she kind of threw me in the garbage like I never meant anything at all. Then again, maybe I didn’t. We did say it was a fling.”
“That’s on her then,” Cody shrugged, “You’ve got to busy your head before you start doing anything crazy like spending all of your time in the library.”
“What do you suggest then?”
“I know we haven’t known each other long, but you should really know that the answer to that question is, in fact, quidditch.”
Quinlan cracked a smile, “You’re a simple man, Cody. I like it.”
***
“Are you sure you want to go to this thing?” Obi-Wan asked for what must have been the thirtieth time that day. “It’s only going to be another overly glorified hum drum press showcase in disguise.”
Ever since they’d found out about the banquet that the Hutts were throwing in honor of Rotta’s return, which each champion was encouraged to not only attend, but bring a plus one, Obi-Wan had been downcast about the proposition. Satine couldn’t really blame him, as being dangled in front of the cameras wasn’t exactly how she wanted to spend her weekend either.
“I’m not exactly sure you have much of a choice, my dear.” Satine said, “It would be rude not to go.”
And apparently the last person who didn’t show up to a Hutt gala went missing and was coincidentally found in the form of an ice sculpture at a different party altogether. Satine didn’t always know what to discern as rumors and truth when it came to Jabba the Hutt, but she hadn’t heard anything too nice beyond the fact that he clearly loved his son.
“Yes, but you could be spared from the torture,” He said.
“Trying to get rid of me, are you?” She asked, narrowing her eyes at him from across their table in the library. She nudged her foot against his ankle teasingly, “Then again, you haven’t exactly asked me to be your date either. I just assumed.”
“You know I’d asked you in a heartbeat if that’s what you truly want,” He said genuinely, batting her own foot away with his and striking with his other as though to trap her, “But I know you hate these things.”
“I haven’t had all that much exposure to them in all fairness,” She said with a shrug, “The last time we had cameras and notepads shoved in our faces, I kissed you. And the time before that, Ventress kissed you. That’s a strange commonality, huh?”
“And I hadn’t been expecting either of them,” He nodded and gave her a sly look, “One stood out as a bit better, I’d say.”
“You’d better say.” She raised an eyebrow at him and kept her gaze going even as he laughed and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “Especially, if you’d like me to dress pretty for this event.”
“Why, you’re always pretty, darling,” He grinned, eyes sparkling as he looked at her and she’d be a liar to say her heart didn’t flip in her chest.
“Good save,” She snorted, but allowed him to keep holding her hand.
“Ah, does this mean we get to do another makeover?” Stass asked excitedly.
“One where your makeup doesn’t wind up dripping down your face?” Aayla added, to which Stass beat Satine to the actual punch and got her in the arm. “Hey! It’s the truth!”
“Some things needn’t be said,” Stass rolled her eyes.
“Really,” Satine emphasized and glanced over to Obi-Wan, who had a sad sort of look as he watched her, likely finding space to be guilty even if he shouldn’t, not anymore. She gently prodded at his shin with the tip of her shoe, not stopping until he responded in kind with his own careful bump.
“What color are we going for this time, then?” Aayla asked, “I say you continue the red streak. Those gossip columnists are still calling you a seductive jezebel, so I say lean into it and be super spicy.”
“If anything, she should try and solidify that opposite impression, Aayla.” Stass sighed, “Satine wants to work for the Ministry after this! As in a professional position with high standing! They don’t want someone with the image of being a homewrecker.”
“But she is a homewrecker!”
“Thanks, Aayla,” Satine said archly.
“Well, I mean, it was a terrible, horrible, very bad home to begin with. A home just asking to be wrecked.” She insisted. “If anything, she’s more of a temptress with a just cause.”
“Sounds like a prostitute.” Satine said.
“And what, we’re shaming sex workers now? Wasn’t that one of your tirades a couple years back?” Aayla leaned on her forearms.
“You truly are digging yourself deeper and deeper.” Obi-Wan shook his head and turned a page in his own book, clearly choosing to remove himself from this conversation.
“You hadn’t even asked her to be your date, lover boy! As if you’re any better.” She smacked his shoulder lightly.
“Well, he didn’t call me a whore, so I’d still say he’s in slightly better standing,” Satine smirked, “But while I do see your point, it really isn’t supposed to matter what I look like. We’re supposed to be there as guests to celebrate the Hutt’s. And beyond that, Ben is going to be the one everyone wants to talk to! He’s the one who absolutely smashed the last task.”
“Now that my parents and their sob story about my callous emancipation is starting to cycle around, I highly doubt it’ll be in regards to my skill set.” He grimaced and Satine felt a bolt of anger like lightning across her forehead when she thought about how much she disliked his parents.
“They’d be idiots not to acknowledge your talent.” She said, “I won’t be having any slander, that’s for damn sure.”
“I’d say Satine is about to “mama bear” you, but that’d be weird,” Aayla said.
“Most definitely weird,” Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose and then looked back at Satine, “You know I always appreciate your spunk, but I can’t promise they won’t be directing any of their pettiness at you. After all, no one at galas actually comes right out with their verbal attacks. It’s all coming from the side of their mouth.”
“Until they’re drunk, anyway.” Stass said thoughtfully.
“Right, yes, of course,” He said, “But we will be leaving before that happens.”
“Well, I’m not there to pay them any mind, I’m to be there for you,” Satine said, bumping him under the table again, as though to playfully demonstrate her supportive presence, “You’ve never had someone with you at your parents’ crummy parties, right?”
“Cody was at one of them when we were young,” He thought back, tapping on his chin, “Though he doesn’t remember me and I only remember him shoving horderves up Tarkin’s nose. Mother had a fit about that one.”
“So… That’s a no.” Stass said.
“Yeah, pretty much,” He shrugged. “I’m sure I’ll know most of the people going to this one, since it seems many Ministry officials will be in attendance.”
“Lots of Durmstrang people,” Stass added, “I wonder if there will be a human sacrifice.”
“Oh come on, that’s almost definitely just a stereotype,” But Satine didn’t want to wholly deny it on the unlikeliness that it was true.
“We’ll be sure to hug you real tight before you go,” Aayla chuckled, “Both of you. Satine could be the appetizer and Kenobi the full meal.”
“Why do I have to be the full meal?” He asked.
“Are you saying Satine is the filling one?” She smirked.
“I’m not-” He looked between all three girls, deciding quickly that there wasn’t an answer he would like amongst all of them and sighed, “Nevermind.”
“Aayla, please don’t try to trap the boy, that’s supposed to be Satine’s job,” Stass said in a sing-song sort of way.
“I thought we were supposed to be studying.” He muttered.
“We are, we’re studying the Hutt gala and what you’ll need to be ready!” Aayla said cheerfully, “You’re welcome, by the way. This is going to be at least a step up from your boring ass parties back home.”
“Well, at least I’ll have someone to talk to this time.” Obi-Wan said.
“I would hope so,” Satine tilted her chin up, “Otherwise, I’d say we have a bit of a problem.”
“No problem at all. It’ll be nice to have someone that I’m quite fond of around,” He smiled, leaning back in his chair so his legs stretched and entangled with hers. She couldn’t help but return the smile as she liked having him in her space, even in weird little ways like this.
“And sneak out to snog,” Aayla crooned.
“Is that all you think we do?” Satine sighed, “You know, we’re still sentient people with thoughts and complex feelings. Plus, we’re still friends! There’s more to do than just snog-”
Aayla’s smile grew almost wicked as she saw an opportunity laid out too easily in front of her, one that Satine really should have seen before the trap had swung closed, “Well, yeah, there’s always a good f-”
“-fine, that’s enough!” Satine cut her off, cheeks burning a bit while Obi-Wan luckily had that spaced out look on his face still, likely from dreading this gala and the thought of whether or not his parents would be in attendance, “We’ll go and stick it to all those stuffy fuddy duddies and maybe even have a bit of fun if we can get away with it.”
“You? Having fun? Is this the same Head Girl we’re talking about?” Stass mocked surprise.
“I’m fun!” She insisted and looked to Obi-Wan, “You think I’m fun, right?”
Before he could open his mouth to answer, Aayla did for him, “Oh I’m sure he thinks you’re fun.”
“I’m about to ground you!” Satine chastised while Stass only barked out a laugh far too loud to be considered appropriate for the library. Quickly, Satine whipped out her wand and performed a muffliato charm to prevent Madame Nu from having to come over to ask them to be quiet. That much would be too mortifying for Satine to take.
“Of course, you’re fun.” He said and pulled at the pink binder she was using to organize her notes for their studying sessions for NEWTS. “Would a person who isn’t fun organize her notes with cute little stickers on each tab? A different animal for different subjects! Color coded as well!”
The funniest part was that Satine was fairly certain Obi-Wan was being serious, but the fact of the matter, was according to the outburst of giggles (quieter this time, thanks to her charm), from her two silly friends, he hadn’t picked the best example.
“Thanks, dear.” She sighed and leaned back in her seat, just as Cody appeared and moved around them to take a different seat than his usual, shooting Aayla and Stass curious looks as he did.
“What’s up with you?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Ah, just this banquet for Rotta,” Cody shook his head, “Ninety-Nine was invited. That makes me a bit nervous.”
“Why?” Satine asked, “All Hogwarts staff was invited.”
“Yeah, it’s not like…” Obi-Wan paused, making sure Stass and Aayla were still recovering from their own laughter, “It’s not like anything could be wrong there.”
“I guess,” He shrugged, “You’re going right? You’ll keep an eye out for him?”
“Of course,” Obi-Wan swore, suddenly very serious about going now that he had an altruistic reason to attend. She wasn’t surprised, as he rarely did anything solely for his own wants and purposes. When he caught Satine’s stare, he tilted his head at her, “If I could have the pleasure of being accompanied by the most beautiful date-”
“-Yeah, yeah, yeah, you know I’m saying yes.” She shook her head, unable not to smile at that, of course, which meant that she was doing a pretty piss poor job at discouraging such ribbing, but maybe this was another thing she didn’t mind.
“Look, I’ve assumed you’ll go with me to things before without asking and that was a mistake,” He said, “One that I won’t be making again.”
“Well, it’s good to see you two growing, I suppose,” Cody said, “Although, I’m sure you’ll find something to bicker about by lunch. Like whether there really is such thing as evaporation or if a spell causes that to occur.”
“That was like second year.” Satine said.
“Yeah, and I know better now.” Obi-Wan said.
“Probably the formatting for the latest Charms test. That got them last time,” Stass said.
“I still stand by the fact that Helvetica was a barbaric choice for a test,” Obi-Wan said.
“You hadn’t even known what that was until I explained it to you,” Satine said, “And it looked fine. It was the borders that were wonky.”
“Or whether or not there is a modern necessity for pocket squares,” Aayla said, “That one really burned Kenobi up.”
“I happen to think they’re quite classy.” Obi-Wan said.
“I’ve decided to hold my tongue on that,” Satine said, “In the spirit of not proving any of your points.”
“We can agree on that,” He said.
“We agree on a lot of things,” She reminded him, smiling softly when she caught his eyes.
He returned the gesture until strangely, he winced and cried out in brief pain while bending over. Satine frowned, finding her answer in the incredulous look Cody was giving him as he bent over to hold his leg.
“What? Are we not playing kick foot?”
“Kick foot?” The girls all asked at the same time.
“He or someone clearly tried to start it! He bumped my foot! The object is to try and kick the other person’s legs! It’s like trying to hit a moving target.” He said. “Most bruises loses.”
“That wasn’t me!” Obi-Wan winced, “And I think you just kicked in my ankle bone.”
Satine didn’t want to use now to explain why that wasn’t wholly possible, but instead shot Cody a glare. “Who the hell would want to play that sort of mindlessly uncivilized game? If you could even call it a game.”
“Me and my brothers play all the time.” He shrugged and pat Obi-Wan on the shoulder. “Sorry about that, mate. Who was bumping my foot then?”
Satine flushed, “Let’s just get him to the hospital wing to get something to numb that.”
She very pointedly avoided her smug friends’ looks as the three of them passed.
***
Anakin didn’t understand why this tournament warranted dressing up in goofy clothes all the time. Wasn’t the entire point to showcase their strength and power? How was anyone supposed to do that with a bowtie wound so tight around his neck that he feared he was losing airflow?
“Mate, I don’t think you could have more gel in your hair right now if you were a jellyfish.” Rex commented with a smirk as he fell onto his bed.
Anakin scoffed, the lucky bloke. Rex didn’t have to attend frilly banquets celebrating Jabba’s slimy little son, which was extra unfair when Rex was the one to help bring the kid back. It wasn’t that Anakin was mad that Rotta was found unharmed- quite the opposite, of course. However, he didn’t see why the entire wizarding community needed to know and throw a big party about it.
“Shut up, you’d look funny too if you had to go to this thing,” He grumbled, “You’re lucky I’m a good friend and willing to keep the secret.”
Rex laughed, “Are we not taking into consideration all the secrets I’ve kept for you over the years? Because if we’re going to keep track, I’d say we are miles from even.”
Anakin considered that and nodded in agreement. It was true, no one had stuck by him the way Rex has through the years, even when he didn’t deserve it. It made him feel a flare of indignance towards the way he subconsciously added Obi-Wan to that list too. No, he didn’t get to be lumped in on that account anymore.
“Have you finished the History of Magic essay we have due on Monday morning?” Rex asked, changing the subject as though he could sense Anakin’s melancholy. It was a shameful attempt, though, because it only served as a reminder that no, Anakin had most definitely not even started that essay.
“I’ve been a bit busy, Rex.” He said as he tried to fix the cufflinks on the frilly shirt Mrs. Kenobi had fitted for him while trying to even remember what that essay was about.
“Yeah, try telling that to Yaddle.” Rex retorted. “She might not take that as a valid excuse. Just like she didn’t take you needing to catch up on Catman #75 or whatever either.”
“Okay, one, It’s Batman or Catwoman.” Anakin clarified sternly. He’d really think that someone around this school would start to remember the names of the superheroes he talked about a good deal. “B, I don’t see how it wouldn’t be! That was an insane issue! And tres, I wouldn’t tell Professor Yaddle like that.”
“Uhuh,” Rex rolled his eyes.
“But I will give you 15 sickles if you do it for me.” Anakin wagered.
“15? As if.”
“20?”
“Where are you even getting 20 sickles?” Rex asked.
“I have my ways,” He said, deciding not to mention that he’d recently received a letter from Gringotts that the money in his account had increased due to gaining interest. He really didn’t want to go into how that all came to be anyway.
“Hondo money?” Rex deadpanned.
Actually, Hondo did owe him money.
“Er, yeah,” He said, scratching the back of his head, “Though I do need to talk to him about how terribly he underpays his people!”
“I’m not writing your essay for you,” He said.
“Oh come on! You’re way better at it than me!” Anakin said.
“She’ll know on sight that it isn’t by you,” Rex snorted, “And remember when you were almost busted for cheating first year?”
“Yeah, I didn’t do it!”
“Well, do you want that to be a repeat offense, except you are guilty?” Rex asked.
Anakin grimaced, thinking about how he’d been kidnapped and held hostage after he’d been so upset about being accused of the crimes of cheating. Yeah, he really didn’t want to relive that particular punishment from the universe, even if he hadn’t deserved it that time either.
“I still wonder what Dooku did with all of that blood,” He thought aloud.
“What?” Rex asked, clearly alarmed.
“Oh,” Anakin shrugged, “Nothing! Alright, you don’t have to write my essay for me. If you want to leave me some of your notes out though…”
“Fine,” He agreed. “But I'll still take those sickles still.”
“What? No fair! You can have five plus one of my packs of gum.” Anakin said.
“Deal.”
And the boys spit in the palms of their hands and shook on it, as all sacred oaths should be made. Mrs. Kenobi had mentioned something about the sacred oaths wizards take in their communities, and how they can never be broken. He wondered if they didn’t swear with their pinkies or their spit, what it could possibly be.
“I guess I’m off,” He shrugged, “How do I look?”
***
“Anakin, you look… Traditional this evening. Is that a new suit?” Padmé said slowly as she bumped into him presumably on his way to attend Jabba’s banquet. It was a highly talked about event at school. Only the champions were supposed to be in attendance, though apparently Professor Gunray had given explicit permission through the ministry for those with high standing parents.
“Are all wizard clothes so girly?” He asked in complaint.
“It’s not girly,” She amended, taking in the deep purple of his dress coat. It had been a bit old fashioned, though not nearly as vintage as some of the dress robes she’d seen in the portraits decorating her parents’ mantle. It had some frills in the white shirt and the sleeves of the jacket, as well as some glittery buttons up the pants and the coat, but nothing as crazy as she’d seen before.
She did find it interesting that he wore a Kenobi crest on his chest. “Did you choose this brooch?”
“It’s a pin,” He clarified, “I don’t wear brooches.”
“Sure,” She rolled her eyes and grimaced when she noticed how wildly he tugged at the large rounded green bowtie that was clasped around his neck, “Here, let me help you with that.”
“You mean it isn’t supposed to slowly kill me?” He joked, “That’s a relief.”
“You don’t clean up so horribly,” She commented, “Even if your waiter outfit might have actually been a step in the right direction in comparison.”
“And that had truly been with the intent of a joke,” He said, rubbing at his neck and breathing a little easier once she loosened the tie for him, “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” She waved him off and then looked around in confusion, “Is Obi-Wan meeting you there?”
He frowned, “Why do we have to go together? We’re competitors against each other in this tournament after all. It’s not like we should be working together anyway.”
She took a step back and gave him an appraising look, “Are you two not speaking?”
“We haven’t been,” He said, “Since the last task.’
“Why?” She asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” He began to move in the direction of where she would assume the champions were all supposed to meet before being escorted to the banquet. She was fairly certain they were all of age at this point, but as students, there were still some protective measures at play. After the dementors that attacked at the second task, she didn’t blame them.
“That’s a first, you never don’t want to talk,” She walked alongside him and he gave her a sideways glance.
“Yeah, about good things,” He said.
“No, you pretty much air out all your dirty laundry all the time,” She laughed a little, but softened when he shot her a piercing glare, “Okay, well, come on, I’ve never known you to mince words.”
He sighed, seeming to give up on his stalemate, “I’m sick of him not believing in me.”
“What? Of course he believes in you,” Padmé said.
“No, he doesn’t. He cares about me, but like how a parent does.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” She said, “We could all use someone to look out for us every now and then.”
“It is a bad thing,” He cut sharply, “Because he’s not my parent and never will be. I’ve got a mum already and she’s out there somewhere. I’m not really looking to replace her for some teenager with a guilty conscience.”
If he had the shield of his bangs to hide the murky look on his face as he stared very hard at the cracks in the stone below their feet, he surely would have used them. Instead, he merely tried to school himself into severity rather than sadness. She had a feeling it was a mix of both.
“Anakin,” She said gently, resting a hand on his shoulder, “Surely, you don’t think that after all of this time, that’s what it’s about for him, do you?”
He seemed to think long and hard about that and for a moment, there were no jokes or smart remarks coming from Anakin Skywalker. He looked contemplative and a bit older even, definitely someone who had seen too much too soon.
“He needs to let me go,” He said, “He’s not going to be around here for much longer anyway.”
“Hogwarts, yes,” She said. “But from you? I doubt he’ll be that easy to shake off.”
“It seems to have worked this time,” He said with a shrug and then ran a hand over his hair. It had gotten quite hard from the amount of product he’d placed in it. “Listen, I can bring someone to this thing. It’s going to just be a bunch of boring socialites or whatever, but there’s supposed to be free food.”
She gave him a befuddled look, “Anakin, I’m wearing jeans and a jumper.”
“And I’m wearing a clown suit.” He said in reference to his own apparel, to which she couldn’t help but laugh at.
“I really ought to show you how the people in my family used to and still do dress,” She chuckled.
“Oh, do they paint their faces and stuff?” He asked.
“They leave out the red noses, but yes, for some formal events,” She said, “It’s even considered a means of disguise and espionage.”
“I wish I was doing something cool like that this evening,” He said thoughtfully, “Instead, everyone is probably just going to want to talk about how great Obi-Wan is and how I couldn’t answer a single question without getting something flung at me.”
“Obi-Wan did really well,” She said, “But you’re still competing amongst people way older than you! You haven’t even learned how to face a boggart yet in full! Hence why you struggled in the second task!”
Anakin winced, “Well, I did learn, just not officially. Nearly took Palpatine out in the process.”
“You know what, I don’t want to know,” She sighed, but continued, “Just go easy on yourself, okay? Learn from this, but don’t wallow in self pity over a loss that could have been avoided if you were the right age.”
“Obi-Wan was trying to say something like that, but it kinda divulged into a series of nagging and stupid reminders that I didn’t need.” He said, “Plus, I saw him answering those questions in the crowd like they were easy for him. It was so annoying.”
“That’s fair,” She smiled sadly, “But all mentors have a way of seeing more of our faults than we would like. It's the only way we grow.”
“I know,” He sighed.
“But hey,” She nudged him, “Don’t try to grow up too fast.”
“I never do,” Finally, a grin split his face, lighting up his boyish features, “No ulterior motives, just food and probably throwing spitballs at Professor Gunray.”
She considered it, and then couldn’t believe she was actually considering it. He was looking at her casually, with no sense of expectation in his eyes from what she could tell. From every angle possible, this didn’t seem like a big plan or scheme. Instead, it seemed genuine and from one friend to another.
“Alright, but this is not a date.” She said pointedly, just in case to dash any further suspicion.
“Padmé, if I ever try to ask you on a date dressed like this, you have full permission to kick me in the gonads.” He said and her laugh echoed off the halls.
***
“Obi-Wan! You clean up nicely as always,” Ninety-Nine greeted Obi-Wan as he walked up the swiveling steps up to Yoda’s office to enter the study. Obi-Wan, for his part, kept it simple with a black suit he’d worn before to a nameless event hosted by his parents in the past and a royal blue suspender and bowtie set to add a splash of house spirit.
“As do you, good sir,” He smiled and gestured to his outfit. The other Champions were already present save for Anakin, and were talking amongst themselves. Ninety-Nine, as well as some of the other staff members, was also dressed up. He wore a long maroon coat that made the hunch in his back look less noticeable due to its dark shade and a matching set of pants. His navy bowtie, interestingly enough, had little lions that you could only notice if you got close enough, which Obi-Wan thought was a fun touch.
“Us Fetts have never really been the suit and tie sort of blokes,” He chuckled lightly and most modestly, because Obi-Wan was pleased to see that Ninety-Nine was invited with the rest of the staff. He belonged amongst them, after all. They were colleagues. Of course, half of the staff was required to stay in order to supervise the other students, but still, he was glad Ninety-Nine was chosen to go.
“I suppose you ought to get used to it, as you’ve done an exemplary job this year thus far,” He commended.
The oldest Fett blushed and bowed his head, “I appreciate that, Obi-Wan, though I’m unsure if everyone agrees with that statement.”
“To anyone that doesn’t, allow them to contend with me,” He said with an arched eyebrow. Just because he’d been wrapped in his own misgivings this year didn’t mean he’d been totally blind to some of the nonsense that Krell had been spreading about Hogwarts’ groundskeeper. After all, he’d gotten rid of that prat once, he’d do it again if necessary.
“I appreciate it, but really, I’m alright,” He smiled, “I wish Rex would see it that way.”
“He’s your brother, it’s going to be on instinct alone to look out for you,” Obi-Wan said gently, “And as you’ve always cared for him, he likely sees this as an opportunity to return the favor. He is the youngest, after all.”
Obi-Wan didn’t know who he thought he was going off about birth order dynamics when he, himself, was an only child from a family he’d recently emancipated himself from. It wasn’t like he knew any of this from experience. However, he had always observed the Fetts carefully, as they were the closest thing he had to understanding a real and organic family.
Even if they still had their own drama.
“I never thought of it that way,” He smiled genially, always a bit lopsided due to the slack of one side of his face. “I’ll have to talk to him about it.”
“At least one of us should,” He said.
“Still not talking to Anakin?” Ninety-Nine asked.
“You heard about that?”
“I’ve many sources beyond the grapevine, alone, but yes,” He said and patted him on the shoulder, “I believe most of it, if it helps, is projected frustration. He’ll come around in time.”
“I certainly hope so,” Obi-Wan said, “He has quite a few assignments due this week. All of which he’s had to go completely solo on.”
Amongst other reasons. One of the many being that he liked having Anakin around. He was energetic and plucky and the closer he was, the safer he knew he was. Then again, that was most of the issue apparently.
“Speaking of going solo,” Ninety-Nine changed the subject expertly, “You’re not going solo to this banquet, are you?”
“Oh no,” Obi-Wan shook his head, “Satine had a later patrol and insisted I go ahead so she could meet up and finish getting ready.”
“Ah yes, girls do require a bit more of an elaborate setup,” He grinned, “Us boys hop in the shower and throw a suit on and we’re ready.”
Obi-Wan distinctly remembered more effort going into it before the big pureblood events that he was subjected to, but admittedly had lessened this process substantially this evening. He didn’t slick back his hair tightly as he’d always been encouraged, knowing that Satine couldn’t have been a fan of the look. She never said as much outright, but always had a sad look in her eyes when he wore it that way.
So, he opted to keep it clean and swept back, less flat and a bit more like a pompadour.
“I’m sure she’ll be along soon.” He checked his watch, “Though it is getting a bit-”
The remainder of his sentence was plucked from his mouth like it had belonged elsewhere, but the sight of Satine Kryze, bouncing up the stairs and through the entryway with a blend of grace and frenzy, was a worthy cause for the speechlessness. It looked like the vast and wondrous night sky had absorbed into the fabric of her gown and her hair, as always, was starlight pinned but not wholly contained in a loose updo.
“My, she certainly understood the assignment,” Ninety-Nine said kindly, “What a lovely dress.”
“She always does,” Obi-Wan said dumbly, hardly able to blink.
He could not help but stare as she approached, taking no shame or pause in his awe, as she was free for him to behold in respectful admiration. She matched him, somehow, though he doubted this was by accident, with the straps and chest of her dress being the same color as his tie. However, the tone faded and blended into gradually darker shades of blue, like a progression to twilight, finalized with small and sparing dots of sparkles.
“Sorry I’m late.” She sighed, cheeks a bit flushed from the effort of running in heels. She wasn’t as tall as she’d been at the Yule Ball and her makeup wasn’t as accented. Instead, she looked remarkably soft and sweet. “I had to stop and issue detention to Sebulba for trying to perform an insect hex on a first year.”
“The call to duty never stops,” Ninety-Nine said, “You both look quite smart together, I must say.”
“I must agree,” Satine replied coyly, taking in Obi-Wan with eyes that made him blush. However, before he could burn too deeply beneath her azure gaze, she turned amicably back to Ninety-Nine with a gentle smile, “You look quite fit tonight, Ninety-Nine.”
“Thank you,” He bowed a bit, hands tucked behind his back, “It is nice to get out.”
“A well deserved night off,” She added.
“I hope so,” He laughed a bit and then glanced over their shoulder to where the other staff members had begun to gather. “If you’ll excuse me!”
“Hey, duty is a call we must answer.” She reiterated and when he left, turned back to Obi-Wan, who realized he hadn’t yet spoken properly and immediately attempted to amend that.
“You are beautiful,” He said, shaking his head, allowing one arm to gently wrap around her waist, “Which is completely unfair, might I add.”
“Oh is it?” She laughed a bit, letting her hands fall to his chest to fiddle with the Ravenclaw pin on his lapel, looking up through long lashes. “Well, I hardly see how, seeing as you look unreasonably dashing on your own.”
“Hm, but I do not look like a star snatched from the night sky.” He said.
“Just like a damn prince,” She scoffed good-naturedly, “Again.”
He chuckled, bringing his other arm around her waist, appreciating this moment of privacy prior to the inundation of cameras and questions that were likely to follow. Hera and Caleb were even more wrapped up in each other than they presently were, stealing kisses and whispering secrets in the far corner of the room. Quinlan was attending with who seemed to be a friend from Durmstrang, but they didn’t have the body language of two people dating. It seemed he was quite hung up on Ventress’ impromptu departure. The professors had stepped out of the room, likely to discuss protocols, which meant that they weren’t being eyed by anyone but lingering ghosts.
Anakin had just arrived and looked quite like Obi-Wan had a few years ago for the annual Christmas picture. With him was Padmé, though she appeared a bit out of place as she wasn’t dressed to the upscale occasion of everyone else. They seemed to be having fun though, which was a relief for Obi-Wan. He was glad he had someone to lean on.
“Hey,” Satine tugged on his jacket lightly, bringing his eyes back to her. “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” He said, but continued before she could express her doubt that this was actually the truth, “As privileged as I feel to attend with you on my arm, I would much rather be holed up in the common room with a thousand books between us.”
“Really? That many between us?” She teased, leaning a bit closer into his embrace.
“Okay, fair point,” He laughed, ears bright red, “But you know what I mean.”
“I know,” She said in a low voice, “But it’s going to be fine. This is your first event you’re not attending alone, after all.”
He was glad Satine and the others seemed to be optimistic about how this night would go, but Obi-Wan had no such expectations. He’d endured far too many scrutinizing positions as an over-dressed waiter to really regard upscale outings as anything less than lengthy interrogations.
“And that fact alone is the only thing keeping me quite so present,” He said with a smile, “Especially since you truly do look exquisite, my dear.”
“You’re too kind,” She hummed.
“I don’t believe I’m kind enough.” He said, “I’m pretty sure every news anchor in the place will deem me unworthy to arrive with such beauty.”
“I’ve seen those love letters, Ben,” She snorted, “I highly doubt they’ll find you a scrub.”
“Who said anything about being a scrub?” He asked in mock affront, to which she responded with a hearty laugh.
“Now, who’s being unfair,” She smiled, eyes twinkling as she looked at him fondly.
“Still you,” He said quietly and nearly rewarded her with a kiss to her witty mouth, but the professors had just reentered the room so they disentangled themselves from each other in the name of professionalism, even if they still stood quite close.
“Ready to go, are we?” Yoda asked.
More like ready to get this over with.
***
Contrary to the Yule Ball, Rotta’s celebratory banquet did not center its focal point on the four champions and their respective dates- a reality that Anakin was beyond relieved to discover upon arrival. In fact, they were considerably subdued in terms of notice being brought to their arrival. Alongside the professors, they were escorted through a line of green pig-faced warriors- none of which broke focus in their fierce stare forward, and into a ballroom.
At least, that’s what he’d believed this was supposed to be. None of them were relayed the exact location of this event, save for the fact that it would be hosted by Jabba and the Hutt family personally. He had strong doubts that the professors would drag them all the way to Russia without permission slips being handed out, since they wouldn’t even take them to Hogsmeade without such notice, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Suddenly, I’m kind of grateful not to be dressed up.” Padmé said when rubbing at her arms.
It was rather cold, but Anakin just didn’t know if it was Russia cold. Caleb had already lent Hera his jacket and Anakin was just about to offer the same thing to Padmé when they suddenly screeched to a halt.
“It’s just through this way,” Grunted one of the pig-faces that was tasked with actually leading them on their way.
None of the professors said anything about the cold or how they were essentially going in blind to this event. However, Anakin could sense a tension amongst them.
It wasn’t much warmer when they got inside, but there were pitched torches along the wall and the increased bodies in one room also helped. Still, Anakin figured they must have been somewhere underground.
The space was big, but it was difficult to tell exactly how big based on how dimly lit the edges of the room were. The walls were mud colored and the floor, while stone, had an interesting burgundy mosaic imprinted. He couldn’t make out exactly what it was supposed to be with such little lighting, but could tell it formed a picture at the center.
There were many round tables covered in dark brown cloths and above them were dim red lights to illuminate the way. Each table was exclusively located on one half of the room while the other appeared to be space for dancing based on the fact that a band was already playing.
It wasn’t anyone Anakin had ever heard of, even in wizard terms, and consisted of a blue little elephant-looking man on piano, a pot-bellied and shirtless wind-player who didn’t seem to have eyes in his puffy head, and a spindly-legged, scantily-dressed singer with a snout that extended at least a foot off her body.
And they sounded awful.
“I thought the Hutts were rich,” Anakin whispered to Padmé as they were told to sit down.
“They are,” She murmured back.
“And they couldn’t afford anyone better than this?” He asked, avoiding eye contact with any of the band members, especially the crooning singer who was moving her body in all sorts of ways that she shouldn’t.
“The Max Rebo Band?” Padmé asked, “Usually, they only play big time adult venues.”
As another member previously unseen jumped into the chorus of this song (or at least Anakin speculated that’s what it was supposed to be)- a red and hairy brute of rodent- and aggressively grinded against the lead singer, Anakin cringed.
“Yeah, I wonder why.”
Behind them, three minimally dressed back up singers shared one microphone and sang in harmony to the leads, though were admittedly much more talented by sound alone. The multi-colored lights would occasionally flash on them, which made them and their apparently see-through clothes appear to be glowing, which was near blinding to the audience.
“Did they know children would be present?” He heard Obi-Wan ask, and though he previously felt it was a principle to disagree with him on everything these days, he couldn’t on this one.
“Why do you think they’re dressed at all?” Quinlan asked roguishly and took a heavy swig of a dark drink that had already been poured by a waiter, “Durmstrang kids aren’t raised by prudish ideals.”
“Neither are Beauxbatons students,” Hera added tactly, “Though that doesn’t mean we advocate for bringing children to thinly veiled strip clubs.”
“This is outlandishly sexist,” Satine huffed. “It’s no secret why they’re dressed the way they are. Look at these pigs.”
It was true, the men in the room were all practically at the edges of their seats, ready to risk it all and drown in their own dribble.
Anakin looked down and away, feeling indecent to watch this act much longer. It wasn’t like he wanted to in the first place based on how dreadful they sounded. He wished this was the sort of event that would have a DJ, because that would be a much preferred mode of entertainment.
When he did look away, he noticed that the center of the floor had a silver pattern on it that stretched for a few panels wide, as though it were designed to be a platform of some sort. It looked a bit out of place, but when dancers crowded the floor and moved along it with grace while twirling flowing ribbons between their fingers, he figured it might have just been a design thing.
Jabba, to his credit, was off to the side in his own personal zone, keeping his round brown eyes astutely on the dancers. He nearly took up the entire corner, but his aid- a ghostly pale Twi’Lek with razor sharp teeth, stood beside him and a monkey-looking thing laid by his tail. As the girls moved and swayed to the music of his choosing, he licked his massive lips with a warty gray tongue and Anakin felt his stomach churn.
“So, when’s dinner?” He turned back around fully, finding that no one was really interested in watching Jabba lust after his own talent.
“It’s custom that dinner is served after the first act of entertainment,” Quinlan explained and Anakin was glad to have him here for his insight. “Otherwise, it’s considered rude to the host.”
“If we’re having what he’s having, I’m quite content with waiting,” Muttered Caleb as he eyed the fact that Jabba had just removed the lid from a pot near his resting place and retrieved a frog- wiggling with life and fear of losing it- before plopping said frog into his mouth.
“Oh dear,” Obi-Wan breathed, “I’m not sure I have the stomach for that.”
“If anyone’s the most equipped it’s you,” Satine returned, “You’ve consumed a fish head before.”
“Not by choice,” He reminded her, “And it wasn’t alive.”
“Yeah, I gotta draw the line somewhere,” Caleb said, “Sleep for dinner sounds good.”
“I’ve eaten snails, but that is something different,” Hera shook her head, her green lekku wiggling as she did, “I’m more concerned with the fact that he’s looking at that dancer with the same reverence as he had the frog.”
“She’s also green,” Quinlan said.
“So am I.” She said crossly.
“Maybe we won’t be introducing you to Jabba then.” Anakin said.
“You won’t be eating frogs nor will you be eaten,” Gunray hissed, giving them all stern looks like they were the ones engaging in promiscuous behavior in this room, “Now hush and be respectful to the customs. We don’t want to appear disrespectful to Jabba.”
Or, they didn’t want to offend the Hutts into instigating a civil war. It was not difficult to read between those lines, even for someone who hated reading as much as Anakin did.
With a rather aggressive kick to a drum off to the side, the “song” finally ended and the rest of the room burst into immediate applause. Nobody was quite as excited as Jabba was, but those at the Hogwarts table sure did pretend to be. He’d never seen Gunray smile for so long, but though fake, it was still a strange sight.
“Thank you, thank you!” The lead female singer clutched the mic, “I’m Sy Snootles and we are the Max Rebo band!”
The audience seemed to lose their marbles over that, though Anakin was just wondering if they actually liked this kind of music, were acting out in fear of Jabba’s retribution, or if they were just fans of the view. Anakin wasn’t about to act on any of those, as none resonated with him.
“That was one of our oldies called, “I Ate My Mate”. It felt good to finally play that one live again, especially after the tragic loss of my husband.”
All the champions exchanged horrid looks, but everyone else in the crowd burst into hysterical laughter that took an uncomfortable amount of time to pass, like they were all in on the same joke. However, Anakin felt it was important to note that she hadn’t unveiled how her husband came to pass. In fact, she looked quite tickled behind the bright lipstick that covered her ridiculously long lips.
“We wanted to of course thank the illustrious and generous Jabba for having us this evening,” She added, earning a big whoop from the crowd as she leaned back to wait before continuing, “Our whole world was turned upside down when we learned that precious little Rotta was missing and it wasn’t turned right until he was found.”
“Show ‘em the kid!” Shouted her male counterpart to somewhere indistinct in the crowd, but as everyone turned in their seats to that general direction, they were awarded with a spotlight on little Rotta, who sat propped in a little throne turned into a high chair. He had food all over his face, but still looked quite happy to be there and even happier to have the attention. A sweaty shirtless man had been feeding him what looked to be jelly, but had to be something much grosser if Rotta truly was a Hutt.
“In honor of his return to us, we wrote him a song,” She said, “So, without further adieu. This is “Rotta’s Revenge” and it’s burning hot!”
As the music changed from fluid and suggestive to a startling hodge-podge of drums and aggressive guitar chords, the lighting in the room matched the theme, blinding spotlights flared around the room, swinging each way and landing on young Rotta each time. Little to anyone’s surprise, the baby Huttlet seemed more jarred from the experience rather than amused as intended.
Jabba, on the other hand, looked most pleased by this tribute to his son and his return, and nodded his magnificent head back and forth in approval.
Dancers all dressed in leather and spikes, with piercings on places Anakin didn’t even know could be pierced, took turns spitting fire and tossing knives.
“I think I’m missing the artistic message of this musical number,” Obi-Wan commented. “But something tells me this wasn’t intended for Rotta’s celebration.”
As the shared flames from the dancers began to swirl into an angry circle, colliding and bursting into a bright white light at the pique of a rather sharp guitar riff, Sy Snootles began to slink off the stage and down the steps, into the crowd. She circled every table, holding out her microphone dramatically.
Some hardcore fans at different tables sang along, but those at the Hogwarts table just tried to look interested. It was clear that even the professors were confused and not pleased with the more graphic nature of content that was being showcased for the children.
Then again, Anakin couldn’t really picture Professor Windu listening to anything with a drum in it. By the way Headmaster Yoda looked nonplussed by the musical portion of the production, he’d wager that he listened to some crazy stuff.
“I don’t even know what she’s saying in the song,” Anakin leaned forward to Padmé, having to almost shout in her ear to actually be heard. He was definitely going to suffer hearing loss from this night and it wasn’t even for a concert he had wanted to attend.
“My Huttese is rather broken,” Padmé commented, squinting as she tried to decipher the song, “And she uses an overwhelming amount of slang.”
“You speak Hutt?”
She gave him a confused look, “Anakin, my parents are rulers of a country, it pays to be knowledgeable on as many languages as possible. Especially if I’m to be Queen one day.”
Though she said it like it wasn’t a big deal, Anakin still couldn’t help but be impressed.
“Anyway,” She continued, “I think… This song is one of scorn, which really isn’t that big of a stretch seeing as I think the last one was too.”
They both shuddered.
“Different connotations there though,” She winced and looked over to where Sy Snootles came their way, slipping around like she was eavesdropping on their conversation specifically. It made Anakin feel uneasy, even if that wasn’t including the effects of the headache he was processing.
“I wouldn’t just expect them to let whoever took Rotta off the hook,” He said, “A wrong is a wrong.”
She had detoured rather dramatically from her unsettling eye contact with Obi-Wan to immediately pressing herself to Headmaster Ziro, who looked anything but disturbed by the invasion of space. In fact, he sang into her mic, a haunting sound that no one should have to witness. It took everything in all the students at the table not to cover their ears as the two sang seemingly at each other.
“Should we leave?” Hera asked the rest of them when it got a little too intimate.
“I’d really like to,” Caleb agreed with his girlfriend, a look of disgust on his face when Sy peppered kisses with her long mouth on Ziro’s warty face.
“This does seem rather inappropriate,” Obi-Wan looked like he wanted to cover Anakin’s and his own eyes. This time, Anakin might not object.
“Don’t look at me!” Quinlan objected. “I wouldn’t blame you guys for your headmaster snogging some chick in front of us.”
“Great, not only do I have this image, but that mental one.” Anakin cringed.
“Professor?” Satine began, though it was unclear just who she was addressing as any form of adult intervention would have been preferable to nothing. It seemed everyone wanted to, but all were rather speechless, especially as Ziro swept the performer into his flabby arms in a disgusting kiss.
“Headmaster!” It was Yoda who finally regained his senses, poking at him with his little walking stick, “Enough, that is!”
They carried on without much of a care in the world, though and proceeded to take their spontaneous duet back to the stage.
“Now’s the time for…” Padmé slowly muttered.
“What?” Satine asked, ducking her head in.
“That’s what they’re singing.” She clarified, “Now’s the time for… The big reveal?”
“Reveal?” Anakin asked.
“Like a reveal of-” Though the rest of Satine’s sentence had been lost to a rather destructive drum solo, which involved breaking the physical drum set in sheer force. On top of all that, the scantily dressed dancers reentered the crowd, but gunned right for their table, circling them like hawks and scooping three individuals: Professor Tahl, Ninety-Nine, and Satine, herself.
“Hey!” Satine objected vocally, kicking her feet as two of the male dancers tightened their hold on her. “Put me down!”
“Let her go!” Obi-Wan had immediately leapt to his feet, a rare moment of reaction versus reason from Ravenclaw’s Head Boy. Professor Palpatine placed two kind hands on his shoulders.
“Relax, dear boy, this is likely just part of the show.” He said easily.
“With a student, a staff member, and a professor?” He bristled, “They can’t just pick her up and hoist her out of her seat! It’s uncouth!”
“Not to mention the fact that she doesn’t want to be there!” Padmé added.
“Participate, they do not want to, Prime Minister!” Yoda called, banging his stick on the table to give the Hutts a chance.
“We must respect tradition. These are our allies, secured and promised for their kindness by Minister Valorum, himself.” Palpatine said smoothly, “And he would never put us in harm’s way.”
But as several of those green-pigs returned wielding axes and spears, Anakin seriously began to doubt whether Professor Palpatine was right.
“What is the meaning behind this?” Windu asked as the music was abruptly cut and it felt like every set of eyes (no matter how many each person possessed) were on them. Standing at the center of the dance floor, across the metallic silver pattern, were the three chosen participants and as the lights lifted, Anakin could read how horrified the three of them looked.
“The great and powerful Jabba has brought you here to right the wrong that has been committed against the family.” That snake-like male twi’lek with the pale skin hissed in translation of whatever garble Jabba blubbered. “Before us in this room, is the perpetrator of Rotta Tiure’s kidnapping.”
The paparazzi, honestly long forgotten until this point, likely because their purpose of attending this event in the first place was just becoming known, flooded as close as the guards would allow them, shouting questions and stealing snapshots of the alleged suspects. Most were at Satine, thanks to her now-famous love affair with Obi-Wan and were quick to believe her guilt.
“Satine! How long have you been planning this?”
“Is this some publicity stunt to promote your inane socialist idealism?”
“Did you ever really love Obi-Wan Kenobi? Or were you just intending on using his family’s good name and fortune?”
That last voice sounded awfully familiar.
“Are you kidding me?” She griped in return. “First of all, I’m innocent! Second of all, I’m a pacifist not a socialist, though that’s mighty rich seeing as we are currently in communist terrain, and lastly, no money is worth anything like this nor am I foolish or cruel enough to do something like that.”
“Silence!” The translator boomed.
He stepped down from his place beside Jabba, choosing to pace in front of the three that were bound by hands and observed them individually as though observing levels of guilt.
“Professor, do something!” Obi-Wan insisted, but Headmaster Yoda was already on it.
“Solve this here, we will not, Jabba,” He said, “Harm anyone, you will not.”
Jabba only laughed as though the funniest joke in the world had been told to him and went on a lengthy diatribe that only roughly half the people in the room could decipher. Thankfully, it seemed Yoda was one of those people and beat Jabba’s translator to the punch.
“Innocent until proven guilty, this mantra is, and have proof, you do not.”
“The mighty Jabba has received helpful intelligence regarding the subject supporting the proclamation that any of these three vile suspects could be the careless and evil spirit that elected to hold his son hostage.” He said.
“A great disservice, that kidnapping was,” Yoda agreed, clearly trying to walk this line carefully, as no one wanted to deliberately anger the infamous Jabba. In fact, no one looked more tense than Quinlan Vos right now, as though he knew what was about to happen.
Then again, Obi-Wan’s wand was out and ready at his side, twiddling between his fingers as though ready for action.
“But a mistake, this will be.” Yoda’s voice teetered on a gravity not often heard and it sent a chill up Anakin’s spine. Professor Windu as well as Shaak Ti and Nala Se were also firmly at his side, wands drawn but not pointed.
However, it didn’t really draw the response that they’d intended, for all the odious lard of a leader could bring it in him to do was release a hefty laugh, one that shook the stone walls around them, knocking glassware askew and rattling any decor off kilter.
Each of the professors looked amongst themselves, waiting for his burst of jubilation to be over. As his translator was about to speak, he reached out, grabbed him by the hem of his tunic, and tossed him backwards into the various pots and vases laid behind him, breaking more than a few in the process.
“OOO YAAAAAAAH!” He bellowed and a few people whooped and hollered in excitement. He proceeded to rant, burbling and eventually lifting his son out of his seat, waving him around for all to see.
“This reminds me of that scene in the Lion King,” Anakin said.
“Hopefully not the one with the stampede.” Padmé murmured.
“You’ve seen-”
“-Now is really not the time,” She said pointedly, “It seems he is giving the guilty party a chance to speak out now.”
“Or what?” Anakin asked.
“I don’t think we’re going to like the “what” option.” She said and pointed to the floor beneath Satine, Ninety-Nine, and Tahl. It was then that Anakin realized that this was just a fancy decor set of plated tiles in place for the dancers.
It was a set of trap doors.
***
“Bloody brilliant,” Satine muttered under her breath, squinting at the bright lights that were blared in their eyes. She was more annoyed than she was worried, noting that Headmaster Yoda hardly looked in the mood to be contested with. At either side of her, Tahl and Ninety-Nine respectively looked more concerned with the set of trap doors beneath her. Moreover, she had strong doubts that the rumbling that had overtaken the room was from Jabba’s bountiful laugh, not when she had felt it move before he’d even started.
Yes, it appeared they weren’t alone.
“Speak now, or forever hold the pieces of those present.” Bib Fortuna, that was his name, spoke airily, like the bastard wasn’t literally dangling three lives in his hand. It was no mystery what the large lever at Jabba’s side would do. She just wondered how often it was used.
“Amusing, this is not.” Yoda growled, but several guards got between the professors and the three hostages. Satine couldn’t quite make out Ben’s expression, but she’d imagined it was horrified. “Last warning, I am giving you.”
“You will not come into Jabba’s home and support this abomination by making idle threats,” Fortuna went on, whether by Jabba’s request or not. The closer he stood, the stronger his unfortunate stench became, and his eyes were red enough to resemble a horrible case of conjunctivitis.
“We will do what we must,” Windu demanded.
“And what proof do you have, anyway?” That was Obi-Wan’s voice- clear and strong, but not without his willingness to verbally spar.
“Jabba does not need to answer to you, Kenobi.” Fortuna spat. “This is his domain and his child had been taken from it. The one soft spot his righteousness has. And you act like that’s nothing?”
“Punish without trial, we will not let you,” Yoda said, “Regret this, you will.”
“Now, now, I’m sure we can come to an agreement here,” And Satine really tried not to roll her eyes at Professor Palpatine’s prodding voice. What exactly was he intending on compromising? Trading Satine for Tahl and Ninety-Nine? Or perhaps the other way around. It wasn’t as though he had much of a vested interest in any of them.
Now, if Anakin were being bargained…
Jabba eyed them all curiously, as though this would only play further into whatever sick game he’d been enjoying in his foul corner. The weird little rodent that resided somewhere near what Satine had to assume was a belly button, cackled like he knew a joke that they did not, but not one that Jabba approved of.
Because of this, he got bonked on the head so hard he fell unconscious. Had his laugh not been so shrill and in reverence of their obvious suffering, Satine might have felt bad for the creature.
“The forgiving Jabba is offering a chance,” Fortuna announced upon speaking with the large Hutt. “A chance for the defendants to speak out and tell their side of the story, to defend their case.”
“Oh my,” Ninety-Nine said quietly and looked at Satine and Tahl.
Satine didn’t say anything, just felt a winding tightness grow in her chest. So, this would be his game? To try and have them turn against one another with their lives as the bait? It was as cruel as it was underhanded, especially when there was still no reasoning for his choices of the three of them.
Aside from the fact that someone present had tossed her name under the bus.
She scanned the crowd, having a tough time seeing anything beyond the line of reporters that seemed ready to claw at each other if only to get the perfect shot of horror. Satine did her best not to give them anything at all.
“Accept this, we do.” Yoda said after deliberating with the other professors and where Ninety-Nine and Tahl stiffened at either side of Satine, she tried to see the other angle in this. No way would they give in to these terms if they didn’t have other plans up their sleeves.
“Now, where do we begin…” Fortuna’s voice was slimy rather than haunting, and it served well to such a seedy establishment. He paced in front of them, locking each of them with his crimson gaze. He looked strung out on some kind of drug, but perhaps he was just unclean, as no one she’d met in this club seemed to understand the concept of a shower.
Unfortunately for her, he seemed particularly interested in Satine and loomed eagerly in her presence, running a long and wretched finger down her face, causing her to shiver. When she did, he bore all his jagged teeth at her, pleased with her discomfort.
“Why waste such a beautiful creature though?” He said in a quiet voice, one that only she could hear. “Perhaps, there can be other purposes for you.”
“Perhaps not,” She swallowed and shoved his hand away, whether this was a smart decision or not.
He scowled, “You will regret that, girl.”
Satine highly doubted that. She’d rather become the lunch of whatever lay below her feet than perform whatever bidding the slithering twi’lek had in mind for her. She only relaxed when she felt an encouraging hand on her shoulder from her right and offered a sage smile to Ninety-Nine.
“We’ll start with you.” He spat at her feet and she grimaced. Just like a disgusting creature to be abhorrent and repulsive the moment one is rejected. She felt no sympathy for whatever actions would come his way.
“State your name and your case.” He said.
“My name is Satine Kryze,” She scowled when a few people booed her at that. Even a couple from the press junket responded quite negatively. However, when she looked closely, she swore she recognized them. “And I’m Hogwarts’ Head Girl and a prefect for Ravenclaw.”
“And why did you steal Rotta?” One of the reporters asked.
“I didn’t.” She frowned.
“Are you sure?” Fortuna hissed.
“What kind of question is that?” She retorted smartly, “That’s like asking if I’m sure I put clothes on today. Yes, I’m sure.”
“Check that wit at the door,” He used the same finger that had touched her earlier to tap on her chin.
One of the reporters, a woman this time, with an icy voice that she was trying to hide behind indignant eyes. “It would be an easy way to sully the Kenobi name as well as bring down the competing school of your little boyfriend.”
“The very notion that everything I do is in regards to my boyfriend is both misogynistic and insulting.” She argued, “Not to mention the fact that I could care less about who wins the Triwizard tournament. I think it’s barbaric and loathsome. You should have seen the riot act I gave Obi-Wan when he entered!”
That caused a few people to murmur amongst themselves, but Satine wasn’t finished.
“That’s not even including the fact that I’m a pacifist, as previously mentioned. I’d have zero desire to contribute or perpetuate any violence upon anyone, much less a child.” She said, “And I must contest this means of a piss-poor trial while I’m here, as it is unfair and unjust. There’s no evidence, no statements, no jury! It’s all just based off of an insatiable desire to bring about pain and destruction. Sickening, truly.”
“But no violence became of Rotta as far as we can tell.” Fortuna said, “He was cared for and well fed.”
“And that’s a relief,” She said, “One that should be celebrated rather than vindicated. However I still haven’t the faintest idea who took him.”
“And where were you the night he disappeared?” Asked a haughty male reporter. “Breaking up a marriage?”
She narrowed her eyes, squinting to make out two scowls that she would recognize anywhere.
Oh, this made a lot more sense now.
“Ah, well, you see, I don’t even know the night he went missing,” Satine said, “As I was quite busy trying to keep Obi-Wan from dying in the first task. Perhaps, you would know that if you gave that a try for yourself, Mr. Kenobi.”
The crowd gasped and one of the spotlights diverted from Satine onto the seething couple, who didn’t do much in the means of disguise aside from forgoing their usual fancy dress apparel. Still, they stuck out quite sorely amongst the other reporters, as they didn’t look like they’d bathed in grease prior.
“Which, if I may, Sir Jabba,” She really didn’t know how she was supposed to address the Hutt, but he seemed interested at best by this turn of events, “I must request that you reconsider your sources, as I swear, there is no unbiased nature to their presence. They think I’m trying to steal their son.”
“You are stealing our son!” Mrs. Kenobi gasped, “Just as you’ve stolen this child!”
“She’s relentless, Jabba!” Mr. Kenobi cut in. “I fear if she isn’t stopped, she will strike again.”
“She is a homewrecker by fact!” Another random reporter cut in. “She swept Kenobi away like she was entitled to him.”
“I’m dating him!” Satine rolled her eyes, “And he’s quite welcome to leave whenever he wants. I’m not holding him hostage. But need I remind everyone here that this is supposed to be about a child? How wildly inappropriate to indict me on the grounds of who I elect to date. Much like with this tournament, we have allowed our priorities to fall to the wayside. As opposed to putting first the emotional and mental growth of our upcoming generation, we battle them against one another like pigs for slaughter. This, amongst many other crimes against humanity itself, is why I feel no other choice but to protest it.”
Everyone fell silent for a moment, as though finally considering her words and Satine was more surprised suddenly how quiet those from Hogwarts had been.
Instead of bellowing out to the crowd, Jabba leaned over to Fortuna, who then tapped on the mic before tacitly saying, “Kill the girl.”
“What?” Satine gaped at the same time Tahl and Ninety-Nine stuck out their hands haphazardly.
“It was me!” They both shouted at the same time.
The room stilled, each considering what this could mean as Satine looked wide-eyed interchangeably between them. She knew Ninety-Nine enough to know he hadn’t, that he couldn’t, have taken Rotta. However, she also knew that the Fetts were responsible for taking care of him whilst hopelessly trying to figure out what was going on.
Tahl, on the other hand, was every bit of a mystery to her as any stranger might be, but doubled with the sense of ambiguity that came with her presence. She had been kind to Satine in their limited time knowing one another, but always distant. Like she was always one foot elsewhere and one in the present.
She reminded her of Qui-Gon in that way, which she supposed made sense, since it was clear they’d once gotten on quite well.
But she hardly struck her as the sort to kidnap a child. Not with any malice anyway.
Jabba considered this, looking at each of them with an unreadable expression that Satine wondered if this was because of a natural sternness or if it was because he was a Hutt.
His compatriots watched carefully, rather patient for a slew of drunks, before they were to react. No one wanted to be on the opposite side of Jabba, it seemed, and if the growling pit beneath them was any indication for the consequences, she didn’t necessarily blame them.
Finally, he leaned forward and spoke to Fortuna, diplomatically if that seemed possible for someone with a frog leg sticking out of the corner of his mouth. Fortuna nodded, the pale end of his lekku wiggling from where it wrapped around his shoulder and tickled his chest.
“Please don’t do this on my account,” Satine murmured.
“You are innocent,” Tahl said sternly, “And I will not allow a student to fall for this.”
“And a friend,” Ninety-Nine looked up at her with hopeful eyes, “Your generation is the future. One that as a staff member, it’s my job to protect.”
After more deliberation, Fortuna approached the podium at the corner of the stage, looking over at each and every character in the audience as though considering dragging them to the center of the room too. Satine glanced back over to the Hogwarts section, noting that she couldn’t make out their silhouettes from the intensity of the lights, but she was certain they were watching expectedly for something to happen.
Everyone was.
“Kill them all.” Fortuna said simply.
And before Satine could release a breath, the metal grate beneath them opened inward, allowing gravity to do the rest.
“ARRESTO MOMENTUM!”
***
Hysteria.
The entire palace broke out into a tornado of swarming bodies, some shoving forward to catch a glimpse at the demise of the beast from below’s new meal. Others fought and protested, like the professors and Triwizard allies, whipping out wands and shoving against guards.
The Gamorian guards didn’t make it easy for them, though, using their brute strength combined with enchanted axes and spears to enact violent obstacles. Quinlan Vos was thrown so hard against the wall that it looked like his entire body rattled.
Anakin stood on top of a white clothed table, using his small size to assist as he had his own wand pointed, successfully blasting two guards entirely on his own, sending them flat on their fat bums. The Kenobis were nowhere to be seen, despite previously being quite immersed in the experience.
Gunray was seen hiding under a table, head peeking out and looking for a place to run. When a guard approached him, he merely whimpered cowered in place.
Beams of just about every color of the rainbow ricocheted off the stone walls, clearly cursed to prevent damage from such things, even if the sounds of shattering glass and clinging metal battled the screams and shrieks filling the room.
And below, where there had once been a set of doors, there was now just darkness, holding ambiguity and fear as well as the distinct smell of blood. Obi-Wan wished he wasn’t already predisposed to an accusing understanding of this scent, but the further he stared towards the belly of this pit, the more he was reminded of blood-soaked robes sinking into his hands on the cold stone bridge.
He blinked, bringing himself back into focus even if he suddenly felt a bit lightheaded.
It was a madhouse around him, but there were more important factors to fixate on, such as his current predicament of sprawling himself across a beam- his entire torso dangling and reaching with his wand pointed straight.
Obi-Wan didn’t release the breath he’d been holding until he felt the grounding touch of slender fingers in his, flexing and reaching even if not fully aware what they were reaching for. He’d just barely made it up the several cases of stairs and across the rafters of the ceiling in time to whip out his wand to stall her inevitable plummet towards the den of monsters below.
Using a strength not assisted by magic this time, he pulled with all his might, using the precious seconds to beat gravity and bring a shocked Satine into his arms.
“Ben?”
She fell into him easily, locking an arm around his neck and allowing herself to be supported while she got her bearings. He caught her around the waist and held her close to him, feeling the rush of relief flow through him when catching her eyes.
She didn’t hold his stare for long before immediately pulling him into a kiss, one that heightened the theatrics of their surroundings. However, even with all the clambering down below, in that moment he was lost in her tight embrace. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as he relished in the sensation of having her in his arms, lips locked on his in gratitude or relief.
“Hello there!” He smiled when she pulled away, any traces of lipstick gone from her mouth without much of a mystery as to where it had gone.
“How did you-” Presumably, she was going to ask how he had managed to crawl through the ceiling, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus on the logistics of the haphazard plan Yoda and Windu had conjured when she was safe and it had worked.
“You know I’d never leave you hanging.” He smirked.
Though surprised by the several twists and turns of the evening, this did not exempt her from being capable of rolling her eyes at his jest.
“Are you alright?” He asked a bit more seriously.
“I’m okay. Glad I wasn’t whatever that was’ lunch.” She said.
“Me too,” He agreed, “Sorry you almost were.”
She shrugged, “It’s alright. But next time, remind me to listen to you when it comes to avoiding press events,” She huffed and then seemed to remember herself, because she shot a panicked look down to the commotion below them. Namely, Jabba shouting in disdain that his pet hadn’t been fed and for his guards to pursue the “meat”.
She looked back at him in horror, “Ninety-Nine and Tahl-”
“-Are safe,” He assured her, nodding to show Tahl tag-teaming alongside Professor Windu, dueling the very band that performed the event. Ninety-Nine was alongside Yoda on the complete opposite side of the room and being shielded by the swift spells firing from the small Headmaster.
“But how?”
“Yoda had a plan.” He said, “We had to act from all angles to avoid suspicion.”
“I don’t really think suspicion is what we have to worry about right now,” Satine said, blinking at the way a table completely exploded.
“No, which means we really ought to be getting back.” He said, grabbing her by the hand, “Can you balance in those shoes?”
“Screw the shoes, Ben!” She said, bending over to rip them off her feet and tossing them aggressively down through the ceiling so that they clunked on a Gamorian guard’s head.
“It’s a good look!” He joked and led her in haste across the wood platforms that creaked and squeaked from being run across. Their combined weight caused them to wobble even more unsteadily and Obi-Wan found himself holding his breath yet again until they reached the ledge that dropped over a flight of stairs.
He jumped first, landing hard on the flats of his feet and wincing as he felt the fibers of his dress shoes be tested by the impact. He turned, reaching out for Satine, who looked quite unimpressed by the lack of a ladder.
“This plan was not friendly for dresses.” She said before winding up and taking a strong leap.
His attempt at catching her was a bit ill-fated. Not completely, as he did manage to get a good hold of her, but a bit in the sense that he did collapse under her.
“Sorry, dear,” She winced as she pushed herself to her feet and reached for his hand to pull him upright. In the process, she very nearly stepped on his leg.
“Good thing you ditched the heels,” Was all he said once he was right side up again.
From there, they went racing down the spiral stairs with Obi-Wan in the lead but Satine not far behind. Their balance was thrown when the entire tower seemed to shake so hard that stones fell out of place. Using his body to shield her against the wall and wait for the building to still, Obi-Wan counted the seconds before they continued their trek.
“So much for avoiding war!” Satine shouted.
“I think we’re also beyond that concern.” He said. “Come on, we have to find Yoda.”
When they finally reached the battlefield, they were almost immediately engaged by a sharp bolt of blue. This time, it was Satine who saved him by yanking him to the floor.
“Wand?” She mouthed, because heavens knew that they weren’t going to be hearing each other here.
He held it outright and blasted a jinx of his own back, causing Bib Fortuna to be covered head to toe in creepy little spiders. He wasn’t sure why this was the first to come to mind, but it surely sufficed as he immediately dropped his own wand to the floor and began running around, trying to shake the bugs.
Satine bent down, apparently finding her own discarded wand to the wayside and bolted a spell that made the Gamorian guards in front of them have endless hiccups.
Needless to say, they were playing much softer than the brutes that were swinging axes at them.
“How barbaric,” He definitely heard her complain as they finally found their way to the center of the room, where Yoda had the rest of the group gathered within a protection bubble of sorts. How he’d managed to cultivate one here, within Jabba’s own palace, Obi-Wan didn’t know, but that was the mystery of Yoda.
“Back we will go,” Yoda said once Windu had confirmed that they had all parties. The only one not welcome to be included was, of course, Ziro Tiure.
“Glad to know we won’t be leaving anyone behind this time,” Padmé quipped.
However, before they were to apparate back to Hogwarts, Yoda apparently wasn’t done, because after instructing the students to give him some space, he spun around like top in the center of the floor, blasting a wild wave of sonic energy, debilitating everyone in its path, including Jabba, himself.
For a moment, the room was quiet and nothing else happened, but after a beat, the pit at the center of the room was no longer seemingly hollow or vacant. Instead, a gigantic brown claw, with talons the size of surfboards, broke through and slammed on the surface.
“Mistake, I told you.” Yoda said with narrowed eyes at Jabba, who looked rightfully horrified, but couldn’t speak. “Hold back next time, I will not.”
“That was holding back?” Anakin murmured in awe to Padmé.
But they were gone, whipped into a vortex of swirled colors and dropped dramatically back into the picturesque portrait that Hogwarts’ snow-covered landscape displayed.
“Are you all okay?” Professor Palpatine asked, kneeling in front of Ninety-Nine and casting sympathetic looks towards Tahl and Satine. Neither party seemed particularly welcome to this response, but Ninety-Nine smiled warmly.
“A bit tired, but all is well,” He turned his appreciative gaze over to Yoda, who was contemplative in thought, “Thank you for saving us, sir.”
“In trouble, you should not have been,” He said in a grave voice, “Unpredictable, our relationship going forward is.”
“We’re just glad you’re alright,” Shaak Ti said, placing a hand on Tahl’s shoulder.
“But your admission in front of the press means we will need to investigate properly,” Windu said in a less optimistic tone, “We do not want to appear as though we are hiding anything.”
“Of course,” Ninety-Nine said, “Are we to go to Azkaban?”
“We will do everything in our power to prevent that,” He confirmed, “But I think we can all agree that was obviously a trap.”
“Someone is trying to use this as a pressure point,” Palpatine said, looking amongst them all, “We should all be quite careful going forward. Especially our champions.”
He placed two hands on Anakin’s shoulders as though to show support, but Obi-Wan couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Anakin didn’t seem to be a target this year, unless this media circus was meant to be a distraction.
“I’ll help in any way I can,” Quinlan offered, still rubbing at his shoulder, “I don’t like shady stuff.”
“We appreciate that,” Shaak Ti said, “But for now, the best thing we can do is all go inside where it’s safe and get some rest.”
“Yes please,” Satine said, shivering.
“Oh blast!” Obi-Wan gasped as he practically ripped off his suit jacket to wrap around her bare shoulders. Whereas there would usually be some protest in this situation, she readily accepted and clutched the coat tight.
“Honestly, it’s more my feet.” She grimaced.
“I didn’t know shoes were optional for this thing,” Anakin complained, “These are pinching my toes.”
“Someone’s growing,” Teased Padmé.
“I hope so.”
“Here,” Obi-Wan made to bend down.
“Ben, you know I don’t expect you to be my pack mule, right?” She deadpanned.
“I’ll not have you walking up that sloshy/icy path in bare feet,” He said definitively, “Now, hop on.”
“That’s what she said,” Joked Caleb, earning him a disapproving cough from Hera.
“Show-off,” He heard Anakin mutter under his breath.
“I’ll walk behind you to make sure you’re not mooning anyone.” Padmé said, ignoring him.
Clearly already freezing, Satine accepted and with little adieu, hopped onto his back, draping her arms across his chest and locking in front of him, careful not to strangle him. The wind pushing against them created a bit of added difficulty, but he’d carried her on his back before when they were younger. He was a bit defiant to admit that it had mostly been the other way around when they were much younger.
“I’m sorry about my parents,” He said sincerely, suddenly stabbed with that spark of guilt. “I wish I could say something like this is out of character-”
“-Oh believe me, I’m really not surprised in the grand scheme of things,” She said, “All the more reason to get you as far from them as possible.”
He felt relief, even if this would likely not be the last time his parents attempted something so dastardly. He couldn’t believe he’d nearly opted to stay with them. Even with Satine’s protection waved over his head, he had no doubts that they’d break their word and he’d be stuck.
“They will most certainly get theirs,” She added in a careful tone, “Awful people usually do.”
“I hope you’re right,” Because when he received the power to do so, he would very much like to hold them accountable for their actions in a court of law. Part of him hoped to cross them, if only to give them a piece of his mind, “I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“Thanks to you, my knight in shining armor,” She joked lightly and pressed cool lips to his cheek, “You play a very good hero.”
“Ah, the risk is always worth the reward when it comes to you, my dear.” He parried back.
She laughed, burying her nose into the crook of his neck, if only to warm up, but he still couldn’t help but grin.
Still, it was admittedly less painful than whatever Satine would have to go through, though it did earn him a curious look from Headmaster Yoda when they walked through the arches of the castle.
“Game, is this?” He asked, raising a wrinkled brow at them.
“Hardly,” Satine said, though she was clearly not complaining.
“She doesn’t have shoes, Headmaster,” Obi-Wan explained.
“Kind of you, Kenobi,” He looked down in a frown and then back up at them, “But heat the sidewalks, we did.”
Obi-Wan could feel Satine’s teasing stare as he sighed heavily. Well, he’d already committed to the task and after almost losing her to an unknown beast, he was content with having her close anyway.
***
“Headmaster Yoda! Come quick! There is an urgent message from Minister Valorum! He is trying to reach you right this-” Though no one made any effort to verbally interrupt Gunray’s panicky rant, the Neimodian professor stopped so abruptly in his tracks that his trademark tall cap flung right off his head. Yoda and the Heads of House were already busily strategizing their approach in addressing the matter of Rotta’s disappearance. They’d been at it all morning, all coming to the same conclusion that though Tahl and Ninety-Nine did know of Rotta’s whereabouts and maintain his safety, that they hadn’t committed any inherent wrongdoing.
“Reach out to me earlier, he tried,” Yoda explained, with the wave of a hand, “Come sit, you can.”
“What’s all of this?” Gunray asked when none of them looked up from their research. He straightened his hat while trying to maintain some dignity. “While the rest of you have been sitting on your behinds, I’ve been getting an earful from the Minister about last night’s charade! He is absolutely infuriated! Threatening to send over a set of dementors to whisk us all away!”
“Keep it down, Gunray, we’re a bit busy here,” Windu said through a sigh, “And you’re a fool if you believe Valorum would ever risk the media circus such an act would cause.”
“Not to mention, Headmaster Yoda certainly proved physical prowess when he unleashed that horrendous beast.” Palpatine said with a small smile.
“Well, she should be afraid at the very least!” He insisted, pointed a scaly finger at Tahl, who didn’t look the least bit concerned, “Were you all blasted upside the head last night? Do you not remember the irreparable damage that was caused between our groups of people? We are on the verge of war all because someone in this room aided and abetted in kidnapping a child!”
“And that person was not Tahl,” Shaak Ti added firmly.
“Oh, and what? You confessed purely to save the muggle born girl?” Gunray asked sarcastically, “What gain would that give you?”
“Excuse me?” Tahl’s face drew into a stern frown and Yoda stretched out a small hand to quell any possible outrage that might pour out of her. Though all company present knew Tahl to be calm and reasonable, he remembered a time when she allowed her actions to get the better of her. It was what made her and Qui-Gon a lethal combination in their prime.
“Precious, the safety of our students is, Gunray,” Yoda said sternly. He dropped the act of calling him professor behind these closed doors. All present could tell he was anything less, and his limited actions the night before were all the more damning.
“Which is why she should not be allowed anywhere near them!” Gunray said, waving his arms around wildly, “She or that brainless gardener we keep in that shed.”
“Ninety-Nine is certainly not the brainless one,” Windu stood to full height, practically towering over Gunray and fixing him with a pointed stare.
“He was useless in their attacks!”
“He attempted to sacrifice himself for a student,” Tahl stood, and as the tallest person in the room, practically dwarfed Gunray. “And he did so without magic. As opposed to you, a professor at this school, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, no less, who I recall cowering behind a table cloth.”
“I- I was trying to uphold diplomatic negotiations! Just as Valorum’s Ministry has deeply encouraged. ” Gunray straightened, trying to match Windu in height even if that would not be happening. Yoda did his best not to roll his eyes. It showed just how small Gunray was by being intimidated by his own physical stature. “And now he’s trying to reach us for an explanation as to what happened. We could be going to war!”
“One that you’ve hardly prepared your students for, might I add,” Windu muttered.
Yoda fixed the Charms professor with a warning look, because the very last thing they needed was to go down that road right now, so he sighed, “Speak to the Minister, I will, but remove Tahl and Ninety-Nine, he will not.”
“That was a trap last night.” Shaak Ti murmured.
“I’m sure Minister Valorum can be reasoned with,” Palpatine said placatingly, “He wouldn’t send us to the lion’s den on purpose, would he?”
Windu and Yoda exchanged sharp glances from across the room. Based on a lengthy rant he’d delivered to Yoda last night, after the banquet, it seemed Windu did believe that Valorum’s intentions were murky. However, Yoda still didn’t believe this was the case.
“Surely, you aren’t insinuating that Minister Valorum meant for the Hutts to pull that stunt?” Gunray gasped, a bit too theatrically if Yoda had an opinion on it, “Oh, this would require a complete shift of power. I couldn’t believe that… I can’t! I won’t! Headmaster, you aren’t following this, right?”
Instead of giving Gunray a straight answer, he only followed him out of the room and over to the fireplace. When Gunray lingered, it took only one look from Yoda to send him scurrying, not into the sitting room with the other professors, but down the steps and surely off to relay this gossip to whoever would listen to him. Luckily, that margin was very thin at Hogwarts.
“Minister, speak to me, you wish to?” He said calmly when Minister Valorum’s tired face instantly appeared in the flames.
“Yes, I damn well did, Yoda,” You couldn’t exactly see it through this medium of communication, but Yoda could tell that the Minister of Magic was sweating profusely. “What happened? I hadn’t a moment to sleep last night from the sheer onslaught of owls that came crashing through my windows.”
“Establish better security, you should,” Yoda suggested lightly, though Valorum was not in the mood for jokes.
“I am far too weary for your quips today, Headmaster.” He sighed.
“See that, I do,” He nodded, “But Minister, a trap that was. Try to commit murder, Jabba did. An accomplice, Ziro is. Fear, I do, that there are more afoot.”
Valorum’s face somehow grew even more stiff, “Why would he do such a thing? Conversations between our people have been going so well as of late.”
Yoda wasn’t sure what kinds of conversations were being held or if this was all somehow a stunt to show Minister Valorum that the Hutts would not be aligning themselves with his Ministry, but none of that mattered. The carelessness and blatant violence that was incited was cruel and traumatic for all present, especially the children.
“Unprovoked, Jabba does not see himself.” Yoda explained, “Believe that we have his son’s kidnapper within our midst, he does.”
“Oh trust me, The Daily Prophet says enough about Tahl and Fett’s admission of guilt.” He said, “If it weren’t under obvious duress, you do realize that we would be making two arrests right now, don’t you?”
“A big trap this is, Minister,” Yoda said in a low voice, “Not in the obvious ways.”
“What do you mean?” He asked.
“Want us to be enemies, someone does,” He continued, “The villains, they want us to be.”
“Who?”
“Know this for certain, I cannot.” Yoda said. “Not yet.”
“But you will?”
“An idea, I have,” Yoda shook his head, “Risky it is.”
“Please do not start a war, Headmaster Yoda,” He said, “I do not want to try and find another replacement Headmaster. Despite what the Prophet or the papers have to say, I do respect and value you as an educator.”
Just not as much as Valorum valued his own position in power.
“Start wars, I do not,” Yoda promised, “End them, I do.”
That did not seem to assuage any real concerns that the Minister had.
“I’m sure Gunray will let me know if it’s going to unearth us where we stand,” He said casually and Yoda was relieved they were no longer pretending that Valorum wasn’t using Gunray as a watchdog. It was still a bit of a mystery what he thought he might find though.
“Careful who you choose as your allies, you must be,” Yoda said, “Know everything about Gunray, do you?” He kept his voice low, so much so that the other professors just a room over would have no way of hearing him.
Something in Valorum’s hardened face shifted, like he was trying to connect dots that weren’t really there. Yoda didn’t know why a murky cloud of dishonesty hung around Gunray or what it meant, but it was all the more troubling that Valorum seemed physically blind to it.
“So, what of the students currently being held at your school?” Valorum asked.
“Hold them hostage, we will not,” Yoda nodded, “Let them choose, we will.”
“Do you actually believe some will choose the very place that they believe was holding their leader’s son hostage?”
“Made friends, they have,” Yoda said, “Run deep, that can.”
***
“Today, I have generously decided to alot you time in class to start on your homework,” Gunray said with crossed hands at the front of the wide classroom. “A five paragraph essay about non magical threats.”
“And how to disperse them with magic?” Bant Eerin, from the front row, asked rather hopefully and Anakin immediately felt sorry for her. What class had she been sitting in this whole year and how did she forget it was Gunray’s?
“Oh no, absolutely not,” He said, “We are to never engage muggles with magic. Ever.”
“But I thought under emergency circumstances-” She started.
“-Even then, no.” He said hastily, “Good lord, need I tack on an essay regarding clause 73 of the International Statute of Secrecy and why it is necessary?”
“At least then we would be learning something.” Rex muttered to Anakin.
Anakin had to agree. Gunray’s entire teaching philosophy, it seemed, was not to teach magic at all. Instead, they’d been subjected to an array of legal mumbo-jumbo that Anakin suspected wasn’t even correct.
“What does this even have to do with defending against the dark arts?” He asked for what had to be the millionth time that year, “Some of us have actual dark arts gunning for their heads, Professor, and writing an essay about guns isn’t going to stop them.”
A few people chuckled, much to Anakin’s amusement and Gunray’s displeasure. The crease that permanently rested above his bulging orange eyes appeared to deepen as he considered Anakin with a weighted frown.
“10 points from Gryffindor,” He said, which earned him a groan from the other Gryffindor students in the class, “But if you must know, Skywalker, these are Ministry-approved standards that I am meeting. Anything else that you have learned, from the likes of a dead man and a supposed dark wizard before him, was strictly prohibited and encouraged you all to engage in unnecessary violence.”
“But what about when it is necessary?” Anakin pressed.
“Violence is never necessary, Mr. Skywalker.” He scoffed, “Or did you blatantly ignore my enthralling lectures on conflict avoidance and flight not fight?”
“I just figured you were sharing how you dealt with every inconvenience sprung upon you.” He shrugged, causing another series of snorts and chuckles, but Gunray looked venomous to boot, so he decided there wasn’t really a way he was coming out of this without detention today, “Seeing that we’ve never actually seen you pick up a wand and perform a spell.”
“How dare you?” He boomed, banging one fist on the nearest desk to him- and that poor Mira Bridger flinched tremendously when he did. “Need I remind you, Skywalker, despite your disregard for all authority and structure, that I am the professor, not you! Not any of you! And it is only I that has been deemed fit to teach this class! Perhaps, if you’d paid a bit more attention, you might have learned something, instead of running your squeaky big mouth all day!”
His chest heaved as the dust settled and Anakin along with the rest of the class just stared back at their obviously underqualified professor. He wasn’t sure if Neimoidians had sweat glands, but Gunray was definitely moist enough to necessitate a handkerchief, which he dug around his robe pockets for.
“I think you might have broken him,” Whispered Rex.
“Maybe he’ll start teaching us something good then,” Anakin murmured.
“I’m sorry, do you have anything else to say?” Gunray asked.
“That’s got to be a rhetorical question, professor,” Anakin said, “Because we both know that I always do.”
“I’d assign you detention, Skywalker, but that would only require spending more time with you this evening,” He scowled, “So instead, I have an assignment just for you.”
He groaned, realizing that his attempts at angering Gunray into showing them all what he was made of was about to tremendously backfire on him, alone. He slunk into his seat as the gangly professor towered over his desk, his breath smelling like fish.
Then again, that very easily could have been the reaction his skin had to sweat.
“If you believe yourself to be wise and so strong, sir Champion, then you are going to write a lesson plan for an entire week from start to finish.”
“Er- okay?” Anakin shrugged as Gunray continued to breathe heavily above him, “Sounds kind of like you just want me to do your job for you, but…”
“Not just yet, Mr. Skywalker!” He said, “If you think you are such a better professor than me, then you are going to have to teach me something. And if I do not grasp the subject matter at which you are showing me, then you receive an F AND you must never speak out of turn in my class again. And, you fail for the YEAR.”
Those were weighted odds, seeing as he really didn’t think repeating a year would look very good to anyone, especially if he were to choose a career one day. He didn’t think many people would find the chosen one working at Burger King for the rest of his days to be very formidable.
Even if he was suddenly craving a hamburger.
However, something did have to be done about this class and the lack of actual content being relayed. Even if he was still pissed about his results in the second task, he couldn’t deny that lack of preparation to handle it could have been a contributing factor.
“And if I can teach you?” Anakin asked.
“Then you receive an A, what else?” He asked.
“I receive an A and you have to start teaching us actual magic.” Anakin said, “Despite whatever Minister Valorum wants.”
Gunray nodded slowly, appearing to roll that proposition around in his head for a minute before sticking out his webbed hand. Anakin returned the gesture, but not before spitting on the palm of his hand and clasping. He wasn’t sure why Gunray grimaced, when Anakin was pretty sure it was his hands that were clammier than Anakin’s.
“You’re on!” He said. “Which week am I teaching? And do I have to wear the same ugly robes you do every day?”
Gunray glowered, his yellow teeth clenched tightly before he released a heavy sigh, “The second week in May will do.”
“But professor, that’s the week before the final task,” Rex cut in, “Surely you can’t expect him to-”
“-Would you like your head caught in this wager too, Mr. Fett?” Gunray asked, leaning back as though he grew suddenly calm. Rex, on the other hand, swallowed a lump in his throat, “Or perhaps one of your brother’s. Some are in more precarious positions than others.”
From the corner of his eye, Anakin noticed Rex’s fist tighten around his quill and Anakin gently covered his wrist as though to stop him from what he wanted to do. You didn’t even joke about messing with the Fetts, but Anakin knew that there wasn’t anything Gunray could actually do, not with Yoda still around.
When they were exiting class, everyone swarmed around Anakin excitedly, all asking him what he was going to teach and if it was going to involve some of the creative jinxes he’d managed to master along the way. Grant it, no one said “master”, but Anakin was able to read through the lines at how excitedly they asked him to make Gunray throw up eels.
“I want to actually win,” He reminded them all as he walked, even if that concept would be very funny for later use, “So, it’s going to have to be big.”
“And you’re going to have to read,” Rex reminded him.
“Well, how hard can that be?” Anakin asked.
“Do you actually know how long those teaching books are, Anakin?” Wald, a fellow third year Gryffindor, asked. “Because my brother is going to school to be a professor and his eyes go cross every time someone even mentions the textbooks.”
“Yeah, Boba says they’re pretty dense too, mate.” Rex said.
“Boba isn’t a professor!”
“No, but he just knows these things,” Rex shrugged, “Point is, I think Gunray is trying to trick you into a corner.”
“What? I can read! I’ll show him! You’ll all see,” Anakin said firmly, “I just… Need to figure out what I’m going to do.”
“Well, there is one person you can go to.” Tiplar suggested in a singsong kind of way, “Someone we’ve all been going to for any of our resident DADA needs these days.”
“Because it’s obvious we’re not going to get it from that dip,” Her sister, Tiplee said crossly, “Someone much more handsome, if I must say.”
“I don’t care much about the handsome part, but who?” Anakin asked.
“Not sure you’re going to like the answer-” Rex started, but the twin girls were already sharing through hushed tones.
“Obi-Wan Kenobi!” They giggled.
Anakin looked at them and then at Rex, who shrugged helplessly, and then smacked his hand to his forehead. Was there ever going to come a day when people didn’t expect him to go running after Obi-Wan for help? Or more accurately, would Obi-Wan ever stop his incessant need at being perfect at everything?
“Guess I’m going to do this the hard way,” He muttered.
***
Surprisingly, her student council meeting came to a fairly conclusive and prompt close that week, despite the increased tension amongst the sister schools represented at them. Each student council member seemed to have unanimously arrived at the same sentiment: this was the adults’ problem, not theirs.
It was refreshing to see, considering some headmasters (who were not currently allowed on the premises on the grounds of possible involvement in attempted murder) were clearly trying to make a point of division. Quinlan Vos, though a bit down these days, spoke vehemently against the attempts made on Satine’s, Tahl’s, and Ninety-Nine’s lives. Hera of course spoke equally as outraged and argued that her school would stand with Hogwarts during this difficult time.
So, despite the possibility of war dangling above them, it seemed at the very least their generation would not be partaking. It was a thing of dreams for Satine and she was practically bouncing on sunshine towards the Ravenclaw tower to relay every detail to her boyfriend.
When all she found was Aayla and Stass trying (and failing) to study, she frowned and both girls noticed immediately.
“You know, you could pretend to be a little happier to see us,” Aayla teased.
“I am plenty happy to see you always,” Satine said, “Though I doubt you’d want to hear my dribble on politics and the just fight of peace-”
“-No no, you’re right, go find your boyfriend.” She laughed and Stass smacked her with a book on Satine’s behalf. “I’m kidding! You know we are always here for support.”
“I think you’re just looking for an excuse to quit studying.” Satine easily parried, “To which I will take no part of this time, ladies!”
“Ah come on!” Stass called before she could turn to leave in a pursuit of finding Ben, “We’ve been at it for… Bloody hell, it’s only been ten minutes?”
“It feels like an eternity,” Aayla droned.
“Thanks to Gunray,” Stass grimaced. “You know what his solution to fighting a wildfire is?”
“What?” Satine asked.
“Stop, drop, and roll,” Both girls chimed in at the same time. It would have been laughable if it weren’t so horrifying. This man was supposed to be an educator and teaching the future of this country and world!
“His class really has been that bad, huh?” Satine leaned against the doorframe, “Ben hasn’t said too much about it lately. He always seems to have interesting dark arts materials on him. I figured he’d improved at least a little bit.”
“Oh, well that’s because- ow! Aayla!” Stass turned on their blue friend who was looking at her quite purposefully, as though Stass was very close to revealing a dirty little secret that Satine was not to be made privy of.
“What?” Satine asked, crossing her arms and giving them her most scathing glance.
“Honestly, I figured that you knew,” Stass babbled while Aayla merely tried to shrug in nonchalance that didn’t exactly play when she wore a shit-eating grin in such plain sight.
“You know I’m only going to find out anyway,” Satine said, “And as two of my dearest friends-”
“-Why don’t you go to room 104 and go see for yourself then, detective?” Aayla kicked her feet back and forth, “And for the record, try not to be too mad.”
That was never a great starting point for Satine.
So, she made with admirable haste down towards the north tower. Room 104 hadn’t been used since before their time, having a bit of a negative outlook since it was where the ghosts liked to gather and gossip. Professors in the past tried to teach there, but found it too noisy and impossible to concentrate. It was apparent that ghosts were difficult to be bargained with.
Naturally, the door was shut and locked as whatever was going on was clearly secret enough for the likes of her not to know about it.
Posted at the front of the class was what appeared to be a blank sign, but Satine, quicker than that, raised her wand to it and whispered “Revelio”. When it merely unveiled a flier for the fourth year talent show, she frowned and took a step back, thinking about Obi-Wan and what he would deem clever as an entry point.
A riddle would be too obvious, but a callback, yes that would be something he’d just roll over with ironic laughter. If she wasn’t prepared to be mad at him for keeping secrets, she would also find what she was about to do humorous.
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” She sighed and with the flourish of her wand, a classroom schedule for every year in the school appeared.
The door had also unlocked and she hardly had to push to gain entry to the dimly lit and considerably drab classroom.
This acted as no deterrent for Ben, though, which became more than apparent when Satine entered the typically empty room 104 to a surprisingly large sum of students, all of which were circled around her boyfriend at the hearth. He was quite animated and excited as he explained what sounded like Legilimency and its effects to a group of seventh year students.
“The mind, you see, is not like a book, but a multi-layered maze, containing complexities that we don’t even know are there. We cannot even tap into every memory that exists there,” He explained, and Satine couldn’t help but notice that he looked casual for his standards. His sleeves were rolled up and he’d removed his jumper, likely because it was immensely hot in this room, and his tie was slightly loosened.
He didn’t notice her come in, not when he was too enthralled in the subject matter he was relaying to his audience, “And those who are masters of legilimency, or Legilimens, are capable of not only invading and delving into the many facets of the mind, but accessing hidden memories and desires that the victim doesn’t even know are there.”
“You said victim,” Pointed out Pong Krell in a snide tone, “I would think that would be a very useful tool on the right person.”
“As I’ve said, a Legilimen is essentially invading someone’s deepest thoughts and secrets without their consent.” Obi-Wan reaffirmed, with more severity as though personally discouraging Krell from performing the act, “It can be quite devastating for the person it is happening to if the Legilimen purposefully makes their appearance known.”
“So, it can be like torture,” Quinlan added a bit more sympathetically than his Durmstrang counterpart.
That was another thing about this class, while obviously some sort of secret DADA class, it wasn’t just Hogwarts students present. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons kids of their year also stood by and watched Obi-Wan speak and move his hands about in excitement.
“Indeed,” Obi-Wan said, “This is not what muggles might refer to as a simple act of mind-reading, but mind infiltration of the highest degree. There have sometimes been reports of the victim having their memories stained with their attacker present.”
“So, you’re telling me, that if Vos invaded my dreams, I’d start seeing him while I’m running around in my underwear, embarrassed as if in front of the school?” Cody piped in.
“Well, if that’s what Quinlan had been wanting to find, it’s possible.” Obi-Wan said.
“Trust me, mate, I ain’t looking for anything like that,” Quinlan rolled his eyes.
“You’d be so lucky, you Appleby arse.”
“So, when are we going to start cracking open each other’s minds like eggs?” Riff Tamson growled while rubbing his big hands together. Satine stiffened, looking over at some of the others who were not likely present for the correct reasons.
“Well, the NEWTS will not require that we invade each other’s minds,” Obi-Wan said, “That’s really only to be utilized by Aurors and other extremely highly skilled users.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Hera asked.
“Occlumency, which is the opposite of Legilimency,” He clarified, “Which is essentially the power to close one’s mind to any possible invasion from the attack of a Legilimen.”
“So, if we’re practicing that, how are we going to do that without someone trying to invade our minds?” Cody asked.
“We are just going to practice emptying our minds,” Obi-Wan said, “And testing if we are apt to distraction. We’ll use a boggart as the real test.”
He then pointed to the large wardrobe in the corner of the room, the only other thing inhabiting it besides the ghosts above and the small chalkboard Obi-Wan brought with him.
“If your mind is completely emptied as it should be, absent of fears or distraction, then when the boggart doors open, nothing will come out.” He reasoned.
“Good thing my mind is always empty,” Cody joked.
“You said it, not us,” Breha smirked.
“Any questions?” Obi-Wan asked excitedly, as though this was the very purpose he was born for. She had to admit, she’d never seen him quite so energetic before.
“Can I have a word, professor?” Satine found her space to interject and every single person in the room turned like dominos to face her in mild surprise. Some, like Krell or Riff, didn’t care in the slightest, but Cody seemed a bit reasonably concerned.
Obi-Wan, however, looked nothing but pleased to see her. Whether it was the high of discussing interesting subject matter or the environment he was in, he didn’t seem the least bit negatively affected by her own surprise appearance.
“Satine! Yes, yes, of course.” He immediately parted through the hoard of students and towards her, bouncing with every step like he had when he’d swept her off her feet into that glorious embrace after the verbal triumph against his parents.
“I think the professor is about to have detention,” Someone snickered.
“He should be so lucky,” Someone else who was obviously Hondo retorted.
Satine rolled her eyes and led Obi-Wan just out of earshot outside of the classroom, maintaining tight decorum as she went, trying to gather her thoughts.
“I thought you had a student council meeting,” Obi-Wan offered unhelpfully, though his own posture hadn’t changed and he still looked absolutely delighted to see her. It made her own frustrations quite hard as he was staring at her like she physically put the stars in the sky.
“It finished early,” She said, “What the hell is going on?”
“Oh, I’m tutoring,” He said like it was the simplest and most obvious answer in the world. She did try not to let it bristle her further.
“Tutoring is a one on one or perhaps two effort in the library,” She said and referenced the carefully crafted schedule to her right, “This is like a speakeasy underground rebellion!”
“Underground,” He furrowed his brow, “We’re not underground.”
“That-” She sighed through her nose, “Not what I meant. I mean, you are running a prohibitive secret rendition of DADA!”
“Well, I read through the rules several times and rest assured, there isn’t anything specific regarding this.” He clarified, “Technically, I’m not breaking anything.”
“So, you hadn’t mentioned it because you thought it was completely regulated and that I’d not worry?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
“You’re not in DADA to be fair,” He said.
“Yes, but you’ve told me how many random factoids over the years that have absolutely no bearing on my being? Even if some were relentlessly incorrect based on ancient wizard bias?”
He sighed, “Well, perhaps, I knew on some level you might object because you’d think I wouldn’t have time for something like this.”
“And I stand by that!” She insisted, “You’ve stretched yourself too thin as is.”
“I thought you didn’t think I was too thin,” He countered cheekily.
“Don’t be cute,” She rolled her eyes, “And stop looking at me like that!”
“Like what?” He smiled now, making her argument stand stronger.
“Like that!” She pointed, “Like not only am I crazy but that you still fancy me for it.”
“I do fancy you for it,” He smiled brighter, tilting his head to the side as though to watch her with even more reverence, “I’d expect nothing less from our esteemed Head Girl.”
She rolled her eyes, though some of the power of her argument inevitably diffused, “Do you know how much trouble you could get in if caught?”
“I understand there are some risks, yes, but Satine, if we all fail out on our NEWTS, that would be far worse, wouldn’t it?” He asked, “Gunray isn’t even using the textbooks we purchased at the beginning of the year. He’s instead going off some convoluted theoretical gibberish that will be meaningless to us.”
There was very little arguing with that, as she had her own strong beliefs on how wasteful Gunray’s curriculum was. While she certainly disapproved of some of the more barbaric practices taken in the past and purposefully avoided taking DADA beyond fifth year because of it, she understood the importance of defense and some of these students weren’t receiving any knowledge on it.
Plus, she would never agree with sabotaging someone’s education.
“But why does it always have to be you?” She asked, a bit exhausted and admittedly on the last leg of her defense.
He shrugged, “Because I cannot in good conscience stand aside and let this go on any longer. It’s the right thing to do, even if it does bend a few rules.”
She watched him, teetering between exasperation and admiration for his sense of valor and duty. At least he’d replaced his familial duties with something more productive and just. Plus, he knew she couldn’t resist a good cause.
“Alright,” She sighed, “You do seem quite good at this, though I shouldn’t be surprised by that.”
“Yeah?” He smiled, turning his head towards the room again, “You should see the first year class. They’re so eager to learn and excited. It’s amazing.”
Something about that made Satine’s heart do somersaults and she nodded, “Well, show me what you’re made of, Professor Head Boy.”
“You don’t have to be involved if you do not wish,” He said carefully, “If you don’t want to take the risks and-”
“-Don’t be ridiculous,” She waved a hand at him, “I can only imagine what your lesson plan looks like.”
“Ah, you’re going to tear the color coordination to shreds.” He grimaced, but took her by the hand to lead her back inside.
“Or lack thereof, I’d wager.” She scoffed.
***
Rex was never in a good mood after witnessing another encounter with Pong Krell. While they hadn’t engaged much this time, it seemed any lessons hadn’t sunk through for the bloke, because he was laughing and joking with his friends about how Ninety-Nine apparently walked around all day with a “lick me!” sign on his back.
He felt his hands balling into fists at the thought of it, as well as how it still wasn’t confirmed nor denied if Krell was the snitch who ratted out Rotta’s hiding place. Now that Ninety-Nine was at risk of being tossed into Azkaban, he really didn’t need any more trouble.
Still, he was distracted enough when he walked to class, debating on logging together the evidence he’d collected.
“Whatcha reading?” Rex asked as he plopped down next to Anakin just before Charms class. He’d been a little nervous about their upcoming quiz on basic counter-spells. After some extensive studying the night before, he was feeling a bit more confident, but it didn’t look like Anakin was studying any last minute material.
“Just a letter from the Kenobis,” He shrugged, “About the other night.”
“My dad wrote Ninety-Nine too,” Rex said as he got out the quill set he intended on using for the quiz, “I think Cody mentioned that Satine’s mum wrote her too. I can’t say I’m surprised after everything that happened.”
“I guess it’s good that her little sister isn’t burning her mail anymore,” Anakin commented, “Obi-Wan mentioned that she did that the year before with Maul.”
“A dreadful time to do that,” He winced, “I don’t think the Kenobis wrote Obi-Wan. What did they say to you?”
“Obi-Wan’s not talking to them,” Anakin pointed out, “They’re apologizing for the ridiculous scene back at Jabba’s and are warning me that some nasty rumors might spread about them.”
“Like telling Jabba that Satine kidnapped Rotta?” Rex asked, “Because they sure seemed to think that she did.”
“They’ve since said that it was a misunderstanding,” Anakin said, “They do think I should stay away from Tahl, though, since she’s something of a mystery.”
“She seems good to me,” Rex said, “She saved my family, really.”
“Yeah, I know that,” Anakin tossed the letter to the side gently, “Apparently someone told them that I was to be at risk if they didn’t catch the person responsible, so that’s why they were so determined.”
“And you believe that?” Rex raised an eyebrow at him.
He knew what his brother thought of Mr. and Mrs. Kenobi and they weren’t exactly positive anecdotes. Their kindness to Anakin always did seem like a bit of a red flag at times.
“I don’t know what I believe, Rex,” Anakin said, “I want to believe that. They’ve taken me in and showered me with generosity since everything went down last year. Obi-Wan’s always had an issue with them and I’ve wondered why. I would like to chalk it up to arranged marriage stuff, but it could be more.”
“I think their protectiveness over you is true,” Rex relented, though their reason behind wanting to keep Anakin safe could very well be vain, “But I’ll tell you this, mate, you should be mindful about what they tell you. They do dealings with some seedy people, like, the sort that would walk around Knockturn Alley.”
Anakin didn’t seem to like the thought of that, “I just hate to think that the list of people I trust could be shortening.”
“You’ll always have me,” Rex reminded him with a nudge, “And the whole Fett clan, actually. We are a package deal, after all.”
“My very own clone army,” Anakin smiled and when Windu walked by with a stack of quizzes, he groaned, “I spent all night practicing these stupid counter-spells.”
Rex raised an eyebrow at him, “You did? Really?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” He shrugged, “I figured if Gunkray is threatening to hold me back, I should at least ace my other classes.”
“Maybe you should mention the proposition to Windu?” Rex suggested in a quiet voice, watching their professor get ready to dole out the quizzes. It wouldn’t be long before silence stretched across the room.
“Please, why would he help me? He hates me!” Anakin said.
“He hates Gunray way more,” Rex said, “Have you seen them together? Windu looks like his eyes are going to pop out of his head when Gunray talks.”
“Well, who could blame him?” Anakin asked and then sighed, “I’ll think about it. First, I need to make it through this quiz.”
“You and me both.”
And that wasn’t mentioning the mysterious third task, of which they were given absolutely no clue for.
***
Even in the midst of dire times the library was still a place of serene calmness to Satine. The sound of flipping pages, distant whispers, and of course the occasional chatter from her friends who sat with her at the same table they’d had since first year. It was one of those moments where much of these things felt nostalgic already and she knew that once this year was over most of her fond memories would lead her straight back here.
“This is somehow more boring than last time,” Cody wasn’t the type that could go very long without talking. Ben didn’t even bother to look up from where he was reading, only smiling to acknowledge their friend until his eyes hit the end of the page and he could look up.
“It really shouldn’t be, considering we’re operating with the exact same level of information,” Which he really just should have said zero. Satine frowned, they were working with nothing, which did not make her feel any better at all thinking about.
“No, Cody has a point,” Satine tucked a strand of hair that had fallen loose behind her ear. Ben’s eyes seemed to linger on the movement for a second longer than necessary, “At least last time when we got frustrated we could work to solve the scroll.”
“Ah I see,” Ben hummed, “That is true, I suppose it can make this final task feel even more mysterious.”
“I do think it’s a bit wrong,” Satine complained, “An already dangerous competition and now we have nothing to prepare?”
“Maybe Satine has a point,” Cody looked at her quizzically.
“Maybe? I always have a point thank you-”
Cody continued without missing a beat, “Maybe there’s some hint out there that we just haven’t gotten.”
They all paused to think. Ben set down his textbook and Satine aimlessly ran her fingers over the pages of her own. Cody turned to stare out the window.
“Maybe it’s the scroll again,” Ben was the first to speak, but he sounded unsure, “It could be an additional puzzle piece. Why would you have a scroll in a chest underwater?”
“That’s a little redundant Ben,” Satine sighed, “I think it’s more likely a combination of the answers to the riddles.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Ben perked up, pulling a quill and ink out, “Let’s see…”
“But what defines something as a physical challenge,” He debated, “I’d say that I participated in all except the first and the last.”
“Well that leaves us with the roman numeral of five and nothing,” Satine crossed her arms, “That’s not much to go on.”
“What about the other ones then?” Ben considered.
“I don’t think those mean much either,” Satine leaned over to see, but they were all pretty useless, “I can’t think of anything that would make sense of all those.”
“Well it was a task all about mind games you know,” His lips twitched up in a goofy sort of confident smile, “I’d say if they do mean something it would take a lot more effort.”
“Yes, dear Obi-Wan,” Satine reached over to pat his arm, “But if that was the case then the answer to the scroll would have been ripping it to pieces.”
“That one was about elements though,” Ben considered, “And we did use liquid and heat. You know, assuming my bit of parchment hadn’t been rigged against me.”
“Don’t remind me,” Satine glared up at him, “But that’s not exactly the case, lemon juice isn’t water and we didn’t need to use fire only heat. Those don’t count as elements. And we’re discussing the task itself which was a physical task the utilized both magical prowess and pure strength to solve-”
“OH!” Cody shot up suddenly. Jarring the table and knocking Ben’s pot of ink over.
“What is it?” Satine stood to match, worry already falling across her face. Her best friend better not be keeping another big secret.
Cody was glancing up and around before taking off across the library.
“Cody!” Satine shouted, trailing him as quickly as she could, unfortunately even her own knowledge of the library wasn’t enough to keep track of him and she ended up heading back to the table, steaming a bit.
Ben was still sitting there sopping up the spilled ink with an old bit of cloth. “What’s he on about?”
“I don’t-” Satine started to say, but Cody burst back into sight with a stack of five books that he dumped carelessly on the table.
“Er… Cody…” Ben said, thoroughly capping his ink bottle before it could take another fall, “I already know about Rotta, I don’t think baby books are going to be very helpful.”
Satine took her eyes off her boyfriend in surprise, eyes skimming the titles of the books. They were parenting books and Satine turned a suspicious eye on her friend.
“Shut up, Kenobi,” Cody was flipping through the first book frantically before he chucked it behind him. She hadn’t seen Cody so focused since their fourth year when Quidditch Through the Ages had gotten an updated new release. He tossed the second book and reached for the third.
“Cody are you sure-” Satine wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to ask him, but she didn’t have to because he paused on the table of contents before flipping to a section in the book and slamming it down on the table between the three of them.
‘Chapter 24 of Raising your Magical Child: The Mind, The Body, and The Spirit’
“You weren’t thinking simply enough,” Cody explained when they looked up to him, “All these complicated things about the riddles, Psh!” He waved a hand as if knocking the idea away, “But these challenges themselves; The first one was a physical challenge, tied to the magical prowess of the body. The second one obviously showed Obi-Wan’s mastery of the mind. There’s only one more place where magic is thought to manifest and that’s in the spirit of a wizard themselves-”
Ben had already grabbed for the book, reading too quickly for even Satine to keep up. She held the page up between them as he tried to turn it so she could come around and finish while he started the next page.
‘When raising a magical child you might not look for all the signs. While most children show their skills early and obviously with a clear show of magic, there are other signs as well. A magical child might have their magical powers tied to their emotions, especially if they tend to feel very strongly. This is typically a show of their spirit! One might simply think of something and it happens before their eyes, a testament of their magical mind. A third child may find themselves stronger than they should be, or a quicker runner than their classmates, a testament to a strong magical connection to their own body. There are many things we can look for-’
Satine didn’t bother to read through the different examples. She looked up at Cody in shock for a moment before a devious smile spread across her face. “You’ve been holding out on us.”
“What? So I can’t have a good idea every once in a while?” Cody rolled his eyes, but sat himself back down at the table.
“I would have never thought of this,” Satine grabbed the fourth book from the stack and pulled up the table of contents to reveal a similar section in this one. She turned it around and gestured at it to Cody, “I didn’t even know this was a thing for wizards! Why don’t we learn this sort of thing in school?!”
“I didn’t know either honestly,” Cody shrugged, pulling open the fifth book before glancing at it and closing it again, “The Fetts all showcased our magic pretty obviously. Hevy nearly kicked Dad through a wall once,” He looked around for any eavesdroppers before saying in a quiet voice, “When we were babysitting for the Hutts, well, Rex, Ninety-Nine, and I are the best readers. I remember reading this and being worried Stinky was going to catch fire or something when he was angry, thankfully he never did.”
“I thought a flower should bloom once and it did,” She’d have to ask her mum about how she acted when she was a baby, but she did remember that flower pretty clearly.
“I was apparently a nuisance,” Ben pushed the book towards Satine, having finished the chapter, “It didn’t take long for my parents to teach me to mind my emotions.” Satine chose to ignore that statement to prevent anger taking over such an enlightening conversation.
“So this,” Satine stared at the chapter title, “Is the theme for this year's tournament… And as Cody said we’ve already gotten through both Body and Mind.”
“So all that’s left is spirit,” Ben put a hand to his chin to consider and the action jolted Satine to another memory, “That’s pretty broad-” Another time actually. Qui-Gon.
Satine was the next to stand abruptly and this time the others stood without even questioning it, following her as she ran quickly through the library. It didn’t take long to get there, the restricted section was obvious and although she made to march straight inside, Ben stopped her.
“Satine! We don’t have permission!” He was looking at her like she’d grown a second head and she just stuck up her nose.
“We do! Or have you forgotten you wear a shiny badge around every day, Mr. Head Boy,” She emphasized.
“I have not!” He disputed with a bit of fire, “Have you forgotten that it’s only to be used if there’s a suspicion of illegal student entry, Mrs. Head Girl.”
“Fine! If you need to be so assured, Head Boy,” She gave Cody a hard shove and he tripped over the edge and tumbled inside.
“Hey!” He complained, “I’m not trying to lose any more points for Gryffindor thank you!”
“There’s your suspicious character!” She wiggled her fingers at Ben who rolled his eyes.
“I don’t think it’s Cody I need to worry about,” He wanted to make this difficult? Well fine she had one more card to play.
“Fine then I’ll use my permission slip.” She reached inside her robe and pulled out a slightly aged and crinkled piece of parchment. She flipped it around and his expression fell.
“Satine…” He said softer, “I don’t think that one works anymore. It was from fourth year, and he… he’s…”
Satine turned the parchment around and was met with Qui-Gon’s handwriting, a bit of tea stained the corner where he’d accidentally spilled some after he’d laughed quite unexpectedly from their antics. She felt a pang of sadness herself, she missed him, “He never included an expiration date.” She reminded him softly, “So therefore, it’s still valid, come on.” This time he didn’t bother to debate, just followed her inside where she helped Cody up from the floor and pulled out her wand.
The thing about the restricted section is that it was purposely crafted to keep people out. It got darker the farther you went in and sometimes you’d run across a mild curse or two. The problem with both of those things was that darkness was unfortunately a hot commodity for Hogwarts’ couples and the curses were a hazard to both them and whoever had to go in and chase them out. There was a reason why such a section was so hard to get access to. In fact, given the way Cody was looking around with interest, she’d doubted even he had strayed too far in himself.
They were far enough in now that it was dark enough it started to eat the light from her wand, but it didn’t deter her, she remembered once being in here with Ben, alone. At the time that had felt exciting to her for a few different reasons, but they’d found a few books back here that they hadn’t been allowed to take back to the common room on account of their age even with the slip. And one of those...
Satine turned her wand to the side, the light just barely enough to read the title, Detections and Darkness: Protecting your Soul from Unwanted Magic. There were surely some very dark things enclosed, but she had a feeling that if they wanted to find any information about things that could be done to a spirit and ways to prevent it, this was their best bet.
***
Anakin first dreamt of darkness. Though not the pleasant dreamless sleep kind, but the kind that seemed to eat away at your very soul. His wand wouldn’t light up no matter how much power he tried putting into the spell, it seemed like it would flicker out before he even spoke. But there was light sometimes, when he ran into a tree he could see it, but when he’d turn he could not.
All around him was forest, but where he was he didn’t know.
It was scary enough as it was, but then he ran into something that didn’t feel like a tree, but human flesh and when he looked up it was his mum, faceless like the boggart. She leaned towards him, skin moving like there was a mouth trying to talk or eyes trying to blink, but they could not. He scrambled back trying to scream, shout, anything really, but his voice was stolen before he even got a chance to utter a sound.
She reached for him, and it wasn’t unkindly, but it was uncanny and odd and he didn’t like it. Was he forgetting her? Was that it? Could no longer remember the way she smiled or sounded? Not yet. Because he still had memories of her, but was it coming? Was this a warning?
Or was this simply her, trying to reach him, to beg him to help because her own voice had been stolen? Had she expected him to have already found him? Did she think he’d given up? He ran into another tree and had to pivot quickly, her fingers just barely brushing his neck as he tried to speed up. Legs moving slower than they should. He ran into another tree, but this tree was next to another, and another line of trees so thick he couldn’t squeeze through.
He felt fingernails trail down his arm until she felt his wrist to grab. He tried pulling away, but her other hand reached for his face-
He awoke to a face full of feathers, he spluttered and coughed trying to avoid swallowing any as Artoo sat unimpressed on his chest. He pushed the owl off and peeled a feather off of his tongue cringing.
“Dammit Artoo,” The bird just bit his arm and hopped off the bed to the floor, hunting for bugs he guessed. There was a green papered gift sitting next to his head, the Kenobi seal shining silver and quite obvious and he forced himself to open it instead of thinking about his faceless mother or her cold hands.
Inside was a cauldron cake and a note that reminded him in many words that despite his loss in the competition they knew he’d do much better in the final task. Anakin wasn’t sure, his confidence in the whole thing was a bit shaken, but they were powerful wizards, surely they would know best. They were constantly reminding him after all, that he was the Chosen One and he would be the greatest wizard of all time. It did feel pretty good having the support, even if he still felt uneasy about what Rex had been talking about the day before.
That, and the letter also made a comment about how they would understand if he chose Obi-Wan over them, as their son had made it clear he was not interested in maintaining a relationship.
Was that why Obi-Wan hadn’t been running after him to make up? He knew this was what he asked for, but it upset him to think like that.
He pushed the cauldron cake aside and decided that perhaps it was a good time to send another letter to the ministry. He wanted his mum back.
***
When Rex had approached Obi-Wan, the Head Boy had been a bit preoccupied scrubbing some charmed graffiti off the wall. Rex wasn’t sure it was worth so much effort just to get “Gunray Smells” off the walls when really it wasn’t really untrue. Still it didn’t stop Obi-Wan from working at it quite diligently.
“Ah Rex?” He’d been spotted. The older student paused what he was doing, wiping excess soap off his arms with an old towel as he turned and gave the younger student an appraising look, “Do you need something?”
“Well sort of I guess,” Rex looked back at the graffiti, “If you're not busy, I wanted to talk with you about something.”
“Oh this? Nothing a little elbow grease can’t solve,” Obi-Wan gave a nod towards the wall, “It’s charmed against cleaning spells, but I know a thing or two about getting out a stain.”
“That’s good then,” Rex ran his hands along the side of the folder he was holding. He hadn’t had many conversations with Obi-Wan alone. He might have been his brother’s best friend and Anakin’s mentor, but it’s not like the guy had ever really come over to their house or anything.
“What do you have there?” He pointed towards the folder and Rex fumbled to get it open.
“Evidence,” He explained, but his hand slipped and the folder fell to the floor, papers flying everywhere, “Shoot!” He crouched down and started gathering them all together. Obi-Wan was there too, easily and quite neatly stacking pages like it was something he did often, although it was quite possible, younger students did tend to drop things frequently.
“Evidence to what potential crime, detective?” Obi-Wan joked and Rex looked up at him.
“Krell and his Durmstrang cronies have been harassing my brother,” Rex explained darkly. “As well as other students, of course.”
“Ah,” So it was common knowledge then, because Obi-Wan didn’t even seem to bother asking which brother.
Rex started handing him papers, “See here? A list of dates and times of the crimes, and here's the list of the Durmstrang class schedule. He’s got no alibi!” Rex pointed out enthusiastically.
Obi-Wan frowned as he was looking at them, but he did look at them.
“And I’ve gone ahead and calculated how much time it would take to walk from Durmstrang’s ship to his hut and see? No one would even know he was gone,” Rex had been working on compiling this evidence for a month now, he was very sure of his numbers.
“So what are you proposing to do with the information here?” Obi-Wan gave him a quizzical sort of look and Rex met it with a simple kind of ferocity.
“We need to protect Ninety-Nine,” Rex said, “I’m thinking, what if we outfitted his property with some kinds of weapons! A catapult would be pretty nice, or a canon! Non magical of course, but still I think-”
“And your brother wants these things?” Obi-Wan frowned as Rex handed him a, very well drawn in his opinion, mock up sketch of various weapons on and around his brother’s house.
“Well, I haven’t talked to him yet, but he needs it-”
“Rex.” Obi-Wan interrupted and Rex stood up suddenly a fire burning dangerously in his chest.
“No!” Rex insisted, “He’s my brother! I have to protect him! That’s what Fetts do! That’s what brothers do!”
“I know Rex-”
“Then don’t tell me not to do it! We have to do something-”
“I’ve already gone to the liberty of putting some protection spells on his home,” Obi-Wan cut in with a quiet sort of grace. The kind that knocked the fire out of Rex for enough time to listen, “I’ve been visiting your brother and he’s been helping me with a… project so to speak, for class. He was a bit concerned about the possibly of a break in after the, er, babysitting experience,” Obi-Wan handed Rex back his artwork, “So we made sure to add some alert spells and a couple spells to reinforce the door, I did a good one to help insulate the place, and he suggested one to keep things from sticking to the walls.”
“But none of those will stop anyone,” Rex pointed out.
“I know it’s not a catapult, but this is what your brother thinks is best,” Obi-Wan pointed out, “It’s his home shouldn’t he get a say?”
“Well… Yeah, but,” Rex looked back at his drawing, his brother was in his house safe, he’d drawn him in the window. Outside in the yard was Rex, ready to defend the place like a knight, “He shouldn’t have people trying to get him either. Especially now that he’s been in the news.”
“I think you’re underestimating your brother Rex,” Obi-Wan sighed standing up besides Rex, “Beyond that, you have the makings of a fine detective,” He pointed towards the papers, “But there’s no real solid proof of Krell doing any of those things, except for the ones where he was caught specifically.”
“But!”
“Do you remember how we caught him the first time?” Obi-Wan put a hand to his chin as he reflected, it made him look a bit like an old man, “He only got into all that trouble because Professor Windu saw the whole thing. To get someone in trouble, convicted, you have to have indisputable proof.”
“What more proof do I need than Durmstrang being a foul place,” Rex muttered kicking at a loose cobblestone, “I mean they’ve got Krell and that Ziro who practically tried to kill Ninety-Nine, Tahl, and your girlfriend.”
“And they also have Quinlan,” Obi-Wan pointed out, “And he’s not so bad. A true good detective doesn’t allow such strong biases to ruin their discoveries.”
“I don’t know, I still think it's better to be proactive about this,” Rex looked back at his sketch, “I was hurt by Krell and it took months before that got taken care of.”
“And I’m sorry it took so long,” Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder, “But you should put a little more faith in your brother. Maybe focus on doing good in other ways.”
“Maybe,” Rex didn’t want to agree to anything that wasn’t a direct attack, but it was pretty clear that would only get him a real lecture.
“Now is there anything else I can assist with?” Obi-Wan prompted, “I’m always here for anything you need.”
“No, that was all,” Rex made sure he tucked all his papers in his folder and then he set off towards the common room. He glanced back, Obi-Wan had rolled his sleeves back up and gotten back to work.
He appreciated that Obi-Wan had assisted Ninety-Nine and that he visited his brother, but it wasn’t really enough. Rex knew his family and he knew that family always had your back. Well Rex would make sure that Krell wouldn’t touch Ninety-Nine or his house ever again.
***
Anakin had decided to pay Professor Palpatine a visit before classes started for the day. He knew it was probably ideal to get some idea of what he should do about his situation with Gunray or the final task. Everyone else would tell him he should patch things up with Obi-Wan, but Palpatine had been the only one to suggest he stand on his own two feet.
Palpatine was grading papers for the first year class, which made Anakin a bit nostalgic for easier assignments, even if he hadn’t seen it that way when he was a first year. He’d been ushered in the moment he stepped in the doorway, which always made him feel welcome in ways other professors hadn’t.
“Anakin, this early in the morning? Are you feeling alright?” Palpatine smiled.
“I just feel like I’m in the dark, lately,” He admitted, taking a seat on the stool at the front of the empty classroom. In a half hour’s time, the entire room would be full of students and life, “I’m to come up with a lesson plan for DADA and I don’t know what to do, the third task is a complete mystery, and I’ve still not received any notice from the Minister about my mum.”
“Well, I’m sure Minister Valorum means no harm,” Palpatine said. “He works very hard to… Maintain peace.”
“I’m sure,” Anakin said, even if he was getting a bad taste in his mouth for the minimal results he’s seen, “And I know it might get better if I win the tournament, but to do that, I need to know what it is I’m winning.”
“And you haven’t heard anything about the other champions figuring it out?” Palpatine asked kindly.
Anakin scoffed, “Like I’d know. When Hera isn’t glued to Caleb Dume, she’s hanging out with Aayla Secura and some other twi’leks. Quinlan has been playing quidditch with Cody outside. Of course, you know I haven’t talked to Obi-Wan in a while…”
“That’s very interesting, how they’re all connected with Obi-Wan,” Palpatine said, “That’s very good for him, I suppose, though hardly fair for you.”
“What do you mean?” Anakin asked.
“Cody and Obi-Wan are best friends.” He said, “So, Quinlan is not known to keep things to himself, is he?”
“I guess not,” Anakin said.
“And well, is Aayla Secura not friends with Satine Kryze? And I believe the entire school knows of her connection to Obi-Wan at this point.” Palpatine knew more about the student connections than Anakin would have figured, since it had been ages since he was a student.
“I… I hadn’t thought of that.” Anakin said genuinely. “What do you think that means? That they’re conspiring?”
“Perhaps, not intentionally,” Palpatine said, “But I would hate to see you completely isolated from the other competitors like that. To think they would give up on you so fast? It’s insanity.”
“That’s why I need to figure out this third task before them,” He said, pacing the floor, “And a way to survive and win it.”
“Tell you what, Anakin, there are many resources here at Hogwarts. Why don’t you utilize the Restricted Section with your friend Rex? I know he would never betray you in favor of Obi-Wan. I’ll give you a permission slip for you to utilize and you can check this book out.”
Detections and Darkness: Protecting your Soul from Unwanted Magic vol 2.
“Wow, thanks, Professor! I’ll be sure to use this!” Anakin said. “I’ll go find Rex now.”
Although he hadn’t gotten far out of his classroom to see Rex speaking with none other than Obi-Wan Kenobi across the hall. They were exchanging papers from a secret folder that Anakin had never seen. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they looked very intently at one another.
Obi-Wan had placed a hand on Rex’s shoulder and Anakin practically snarled, crumbling the restricted section pass in between his fingers.
***
“My, my, darling, you’ve grown!” Obi-Wan cooed quietly in the corner of Professor Mundi’s classroom. It was after hours, but sometimes, he elected to spend the time he didn’t dedicate to teaching DADA here, checking on the creatures. Though he did have much to catch up on, this was easily his favorite class at Hogwarts.
Ever since Qui-Gon, anyway.
But it was more than a decent substitute in terms of intriguing new subject matter. Every day was filled with something new and if he wasn’t so eager to be an Auror one day, he’d dream about caring for his own menagerie. It was strange, being allowed to dream. He found that he did it now more than ever, since his fate was no longer sealed to Ventress.
They were the sort of dreams he kept very private, even from Satine and Cody. Especially from Satine in some of the more whimsical scenarios. One that had been coming to mind more recently was him, bearded and wrinkled around the eyes from smiling, not frowning, and introducing a colorful fwooper to a young girl who he presumed to be a daughter or granddaughter based on her likeness to him. There was music in the background, though he didn’t recognize it other than the fact that it felt warm and bright, and Satine rounded around the corner, chasing after a blond boy who had her eyes, and asking him to put on a shirt.
It was almost too good to be his and it wasn’t and might never be, but to think that there was even a possibility of that one day becoming true, was worth closing his eyes in the first place.
“Obi-Wan?” A concerned, firm voice disturbed him from his reverie and he turned from the fuzzy creature to see his girlfriend in the flesh, leaning against the doorway to the classroom, interrupting yet inspiring golden light from passing through. It was growing a bit late, as dinner would be ready soon, and the two of them had a patrol that evening together.
“Yes, sorry,” He smiled, walking over to her, “I was a bit lost in thought.”
“Good thought?” She pressed.
“Good thought,” He confirmed and gestured to his surroundings, “I’m almost always in positive spirits while amongst such pleasant company.”
“I see that,” She looked around them, nodding more to herself than in agreement to him, “Ninety-Nine suggested I might find you here. I looked for you at the usual suspects, even Qui-Gon’s old office.”
He’d wondered at one point when even the mention of that man’s name wouldn’t inspire a twang of grief, but he suspected it wouldn’t be anytime soon. It didn’t have to be, not around Satine especially.
“I like to check on the other ladies in my life from time to time,” He answered cheekily, changing the tune from going too somber at the mention of his mentor.
“Oh really?” She took the bait, “Well, you better introduce me before I get jealous.”
“If you insist,” He grinned, taking her by the hand and leading her to the tank to the right, “These are the Moke. They’re usually about ten inches long, but it seems they’re playing quite shy right now.”
Satine peered into the tank, looking around the little environment consisting of water, stones, and an assortment of leaves and twigs, “What do you mean? This tank looks empt- Oh!”
Her surprise, of course, was in reaction to the three full-length female Moke that popped seemingly out of nowhere.
“They shrink!” He laughed, taking great enjoyment in her shock. It was a rarity indeed that he could surprise Satine with magic these days. Unlike their earlier years, when she’d been inundated with her discoveries, she was fairly caught up in most things. “This is Scaly, Taily, and Waily.”
“All quite lovely,” She laughed a bit, eyeing them carefully, “I’ve heard of mokeskin bags, but I’ve never seen one in real life.”
“Oh, my mother owned a ton,” He said with an eye roll, “Funny thing is, the bags still retain the magical properties of the creature, meaning they shrink when they believe danger is afoot. Needless to say, my mother kept “losing” her mokeskin purses.”
Satine laughed at that and happily stroked the back of Scaly with one finger, who seemed quite pleased at meeting a new friend, “Well, I’m glad they don’t believe I’m a threat.”
“They can sense the pacifism on you, I’m sure.” He teased lightly.
“Oh, is that so?” She said, “I should consider myself lucky then.”
“Indeed, they are excellent listeners.”
“I’m sure,” She smiled, “What’s next?”
“Well, if you’re looking for something super cute,” He clapped his hands together, “Then allow me to introduce you to Remy and her batch of newborn Murtlap.”
Taking up the most space for the indoor creatures, the family of murtlap still required time to get their bearings on the living breathing world, thus necessitating an entire half of the room to burrough in and learn how to thrive in a carefully curated ecosystem of grass and water.
And while Obi-Wan thought they were adorable… Their reputation did not speak highly.
With something resembling a sea anemone on their backs and warts all over their hairless, pinkish bodies, he could see why most wouldn’t be able to look beyond their bucked teeth to discover what lovely creatures they were.
He picked one up easily, one of Remy’s sons named Roger and held him out to Satine.
Admittedly, she did look a bit unsure, looking around at him carefully before finally reaching out two cupped hands.
“He won’t bite,” Obi-Wan promised, “A little overbite never hurt anyone.”
“You have never met my sister’s gerbil, Priscilla.” Satine snorted, but she didn’t recoil when little Roger blindly started to navigate her forearm, taking great interest in her scent and the softness of her sweater.
“That growth on their back actually contains helpful properties,” He said.
“Beyond being such a lovely fashion statement, you mean,” She retorted.
“Oh yes, that too,” He chuckled, “If you were to consume it, it helps build resistance to jinxes. However, if you have too many, your hair turns purple.”
“I see you haven’t had too many then,” She looked up at his hair.
“Oh, I couldn’t imagine actually consuming it.” He said, “It can be painful when removed improperly from their backs. I wouldn’t trust many with that delicate of a procedure.”
She smiled softly at him, “Yes, that is a good point.”
“Roger may not be the prettiest, but he, like all of his sisters, enjoys belly rubs and cinnamon sticks of all things.”
“And I wonder where he managed to develop that particular craving,” She smirked.
“Don’t blame me, blame this little guy getting loose and winding up in my bag.” He laughed, “Oh, it was incredibly silly, one of the few bright spots of December. Until the Yule Ball, that is.”
“Until after the Yule Ball, you mean.”
“I certainly didn’t enjoy Ventress’ claws sinking into my arms.” He said and tickled Roger’s whiskers, “This little fellow, however, does have sharp claws, but never uses them. He loves the ladies. I suppose it’s just as well, seeing as he’s surrounded by them.”
“A gentleman to the last,” She petted the Murtlap a bit more tenderly this time, with more certainty with every stroke. He smiled as he watched her. Satine wasn’t quite on his level of loving any and all animals, but she had a respect for the lives and justice of all creatures. It was she who was willing to throw everything on the line to defend the Zillo Beast of all things.
Roger did take a liking to Satine, of course, and was now presently softly licking the back of her thumb.
“Watch it, Roger,” Obi-Wan said, pointing a finger at the little rodent with mock appraisal, “That’s my girl you’re licking.”
“Now who’s jealous?” She asked, though was clearly not as keen with the idea of having her entire finger sucked on by the rodent. It wasn’t for everyone, after all. So, Obi-Wan happily took little Roger and placed him back alongside his siblings.
“There you go, mate,” He said quietly, scratching him under the chin just as he liked, “Time for dinner. I heard your mum makes the best murtlap milk around.”
When he leaned back, Satine was watching him carefully. It wasn’t in scrutinization nor in irritation. In fact, there was a gentleness to her, like she was admiring him and didn’t care that she was caught.
“If you liked that, I think you’ll find this next one to be quite the star,” He said, already turning around to scoop up the baby jackalope into his arms. His grin widened when he saw the way Satine automatically melted at the floppy-eared baby animal that nuzzled against Obi-Wan’s forearm. “Satine, meet Jane the jackalope.”
“Hello Miss,” Satine said in a soft, low voice, reaching out a delicate hand to carefully stroke Jane’s fury head. Seeing as she was still just a baby, Jane napped a lot and could basically nap anywhere. There was rarely a time where the sound of sweet little jackalope snores didn’t warm his heart. “Oh, you are just the cutest thing.”
“Isn’t she?” He said in a soft tone dedicated to all the baby animals when they come through, “Her antlers have grown tremendously even since I last saw her a few days ago. “It won’t be long until they’re as long as my pinky.”
“How old is she?” Satine asked, still keeping her wide blue eyes fixated on the sleeping creature, clearly terrified she might disturb her rest.
“Hm, a little over four months now,” He said, rocking her slightly when she began to stir. He knew the exact rhythm and motion that got her to nod off. “I think she might be the runt of the litter.”
“You think? What happened to the rest of her family?” And his heart twanged at the way Satine said family so warmly and desperately, like they were discussing a human baby. Even when it went to extremes, he’d always adored her compassion.
“Jackalopes are too fast to outrun a normal fox, even as newborns, so it could have been anything above them in the food chain. If I had to narrow it down, I’d say based on the bite marks that it could have been a Crup, which are bred regularly in nearby villages. They’re insanely quick.”
“Bite marks?” Her voice suddenly became very sad and she shook her head hastily, “Please don’t tell me anymore.”
“I won’t,” He promised, “Would you like to hold her?”
“Yes,” She agreed immediately, “If you deem me worthy, that is.”
“I’d trust you with my life,” He said it in a joking manner, even if he wholly meant it.
“Something tells me you regard Jane’s at a higher standing,” She retorted, even as she carefully took the sleeping jackalope into her arms.
In Satine’s arms, Jane looked even bigger than he’d previously suspected. It wouldn’t be long before they would eventually have to start integrating her back into the wild. Professor Mundi was admirable in that sense. He never kept any creature for good. It was always the belief that they belonged in the wild unless they absolutely couldn’t care for themselves. The Moke were a fine example of that, since they basically starved themselves unless force fed. Jane would probably be with them through the end of the year, but once she developed the necessary skills to forage, gather, and escape, she’d be ready.
He’d be gone before that, but he would most certainly write Professor Mundi or Ninety-Nine asking for an update. He loved all the critters from the snakes to the nifflers to the hippogriffs, but he definitely had a soft spot for Jane.
“I actually got to name her,” He said.
“A very classic name, so I’m not surprised,” She said, “Why’d you name her Jane? Aside from her elegant good looks, that is.”
“Jane Austen, of course!” He said indignantly, but quickly lowered his voice when he noticed Jane’s ears wiggled. The sneaky girl seemed to have overheard that they were talking about her. He patted her head gently and then looked back to Satine, “Does she not look like one, of course? She’s got the soul.”
“The soul?” Satine smiled, looking down at Jane, “Yes, I can see that. If bunnies-”
“-Jackalopes.”
“-If jackalopes could write feminist prose, I’m positive hers would receive the nobel peace prize.”
“As long as it's the noble piece of carrot cake prize, I’d wager she’d find contentment,” He chuckled to himself at his own pun and felt immediate delight at Satine’s eyeroll and snort that followed it. She knew he was funny. She just hadn’t admitted to as much yet.
“Has she been introduced to her namesake’s work?” Satine asked.
“She’s witnessed me agonize over the symbolism and intention behind Pride and Prejudice.” He admitted.
“Agony? My dear, it’s a romance.”
“A romantic conundrum, more like it.” He said, “And one that was painfully similar in many ways to ours, even if I wasn’t yet sure ours would be a romance or a tragedy.”
“There’s still time left,” She teased.
“Now, now, don’t tease the universe or dear Jane. She’s quite relieved not to have me moping about day in and day out when I didn’t feel like entertaining the world.” He said, purposefully adding on the theatrics.
“Well, I for one am glad you enjoyed it, even if it was a bit torturous,” She said, “I’d be a liar to say it wasn’t in attempt of being more direct.”
“The message sunk in, thank you,” He nudged her and she smiled, “I was just a bit slow at the execution… Much like Mr. Darcy.”
“You’re forgiven, I suppose,” She sighed.
“You’re too kind.” He said, remembering that he would need to show her his notes on the book someday.
“I’m surprised Professor Mundi allows his class to handle injured animals,” Satine mused, rocking in a different rotation that Obi-Wan had never tried, but Jane seemed to be soothed all the same. He handed her a bottle filled with a blend similar to what her mother’s milk would contain and Satine wordlessly accepted it and stuck it in Jane’s mouth, watching as she took ample sips.
Watching Satine hold her so carefully, so protectively, stirred something warm in him, but he couldn’t quite put a name on it.
“He doesn’t,” Obi-Wan clarified, “He gathers and borrows specific creatures for class and those are always healthy. It’s only the advanced students that get to care for the wounded.”
“Look at you,” She bumped him gently, “Only in his class for a year and you’re already advanced. No wonder you’ve become a student teacher.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m advanced,” He blushed, “I’m just persistent and a bit annoying.”
“Well, yeah,” She agreed, a bit too quickly for his liking. Still, he laughed and gently placed his hands on her waist, angling her so she stood leaning against his front, so he could look down at the sleeping jackalope whilst also able to sneak a look at Satine as well.
“But you don’t think this is a waste of time? Or foolish?” He asked quietly.
She furrowed her brow and looked up at him, “What would ever give you that idea?”
He shook his head, smiling and remembering for the millionth time how correct his choice had been, “I guess because it doesn’t have anything to do with my future.”
“And who says it won't?” Satine asked and Obi-Wan’s heart almost stopped. There’s no way she could know about his dream. He hadn’t told anyone about it. Unless he’d been talking in his sleep and one of his bunkmates said something. Thankfully, Satine continued so his heart could resume beating, “Just because you’re set to become an Auror doesn’t mean you can’t have hobbies or change your mind and do something else. That’s the beauty of being your own person. Nothing is locked in.”
“Well, I hope some things will be.” He said quietly.
“Yes,” She flushed, “Me too. But seriously, don’t ever have shame for showing interest outside of your immediate future. By that logic, I should never read or write or listen to music. And none of that is like this. I think it’s amazing! Not to mention absolutely swoon-worthy.”
“Swoon-worthy?” He arched an eyebrow at her. “Not much can do more to a guy’s ego than that descriptor, hm?”
She rolled her eyes, “Come on, handsome strong guy takes care of wounded baby animals? Who wouldn’t be absolutely besotted with that?”
“I didn’t know you thought of me as a handsome, strong guy.” He said.
“Liar,” She stuck her tongue out at him, “Though I do understand your soft spot for these little critters, especially this one.”
“Want to take her home, hm?”
“Tuck her right in my robe.” She joked.
“I doubt she’ll fit there for much longer. That’s actually how I carried her in.”
“Give me that image and I’ll never be able to be mad at you ever again.” She sighed.
“I have strong doubts about that.”
“You are going to wake the baby if you keep your quips.”
“You just know I’m right,” He grumbled.
So, they just stood there for a while, until the very last minute before they had to leave their patrol, keeping little Jane warm in a joint embrace, rocking slowly and eventually humming a song Obi-Wan didn’t know but felt.
***
Rex actually found himself grateful to have grown up as the victim of many of Echo and Fives’ relentless pranks through the years, because he actually knew to look before he sat down in any given seat, even if they weren’t anywhere to be seen. His brothers moved quickly and quietly when they wanted to, despite seeming to take hours to get ready and never did so in such silence.
However, he’d never expected them to be quite so brazen or stupid, for that matter, to try and pull something in one of his classes. When he got to his usual seat in Herbology, he found none other than a large red Master Blaster on his chair.
“Bloody hell!” He murmured, not even wanting to draw much attention to himself as he tried to remove the prank by sliding it into his robe.
He moved carefully, because even so much as a firm touch to the stinky pillow could send it blasting the entire room with an odor so strong that all the plants in the greenhouse might surely die. Though logically he knew that mandrakes weren’t actual babies, he still didn’t want to commit any form of infanticide.
The castle was considerably warm that day, at least, with the streak of freezing days finally at an end, but he was still quite peeved to have to sacrifice one of his warmer robes for something so foolish. Still, he bundled it tight so that no air could escape and as calmly as anyone holding what was essentially a ticking time bomb in his hands, marched out of the greenhouse and chuckled it onto the front lawn.
Thankfully, it was raining that day (not a very obscure thing for England this time of year), so any residue would hopefully be swept away in the mud and puddles already taking shape.
He watched with a grimace as a poor unlucky flock of birds got caught in the firework of green stink that exploded tremendously into the sky. A few actually fell, unfortunately, and landed with an unceremonious squawk and thud.
When he was sure that a surprise trade wind wouldn’t blow through and send the rancid odor their way, he turned around and shut the greenhouse door behind him, finally releasing a breath as he reveled in his own safety.
He’d gone unnoticed, somehow, which was at least one hidden blessing, as everyone was pretty wrapped up in the defanging that they were supposed to perform on vampiric vegetation. A rumor was going around that if bitten, you, yourself turned green and grew fangs and Professor Plo hadn’t yet dispelled those rumors.
Rex wouldn’t mind the fangs, but green was not his color.
“I’m going to kill them,” He muttered as he found his way back to his seat.
This time, however, there wasn’t a seat there at all, just a desk.
And Anakin sat, rather unbothered, beside it, writing down an assignment that Professor Plo had already started to jot down on his board. He’d seemed pretty excited about the idea of becoming a vampire the other day, but now looked solemn and stone-faced like the prospect wouldn’t be just like the old films he raved about.
“Mate, who stole my seat?” Rex asked, just about having enough of this nonsense.
“Oh, I don’t know, why don’t you ask Obi-Wan?” Anakin looked at him, expression blank, but with intention.
Rex furrowed his brow, “What’s he got to do with my chair?”
“Well, everything I’d guess, since you’re all chummy with him now,” Anakin said with a shrug, “Maybe he’d help you find it better than me.”
“You took my chair,” Rex stated rather than asked.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Apparently, you didn’t have to,” He said sarcastically, “What gives?”
“Nothing gives, I didn’t do anything.” He said. “Like I said, ask Obi-Wan.”
Racking his brain to try and make sense of this, Rex finally landed on the conversation he’d been having with Obi-Wan about Ninety-Nine, the one where he’d been requesting his assistance on a sensitive matter, “Is this about earlier?”
“Did something happen earlier?” He asked coyly.
“Come off of it. You placed that bloody whoopee cushion and took my chair to get back at me for talking to Kenobi. Admit it.”
“He’s teaching you to play detective, I guess, just like a true mentor,” He said, as though he was still maintaining any plausible deniability, “You two just seem close now.”
“I don’t want your mentor, mate! Not that it’s any of your business, but I was talking to him as the Head Boy, not as your former mentor who you are hating on these days for some reason.” Rex said, “Even if we all know you’re just being salty at this point, because clearly, you want to talk to him..”
“I am not being salty!” Anakin flared, finally reacting, “I tell you all about how he doesn’t believe in me or think I’m going to be anything and you not only defend him, but confide in him?”
“Like I said, it’s none of your business,” Rex scowled, “And by the way, if you want to prove you aren’t a baby to him so desperately, perhaps, you ought to quit acting like one.”
“Mr. Fett, please take a seat,” Professor Plo gently coaxed.
Looking around him, Rex realized everyone else was seated. Anakin was stewing, unsurprisingly, and wasn’t looking his way anymore. He sighed, taking the final available seat towards the front of the classroom, right next to the Mimbulus Mimbletonia, which was known to be prone to spitting.
***
The only problem with Anakin having a row with Rex, aside from how ugly it made him feel inside, was that it was practically impossible for the two to avoid each other. Not only did they share a house and by extension a common room, but a bedroom as well. In fact, Anakin could hardly roll out of bed without seeing Rex.
They had Hogsmeade that day too, which meant that they really wouldn’t be getting away from one another.
So, Anakin had made the gobsmacking choice not to go, much to the intense suspicion of Windu, but luckily for him, he didn’t have any pranks in mind. Instead, he intended on moping around the castle, looking for the permission slip that Palpatine had given him. He’d trashed it in his blind rage the day before, which wasn’t very wise in the slightest. Though he didn’t love reading, he knew that there could have been something valuable inside that book.
“Let me get this straight,” Padmé said just as the students were gathering together to head out, “You’ve spent the better part of your time here trying to sneak into Hogsmeade and now you’re just choosing not to go?”
“Don’t you think my time could be better used elsewhere?” Anakin asked, casting a look across the room towards Rex, a pang of guilt flexing his stomach. He shouldn’t be guilty and he shouldn’t be the one opting out of a good time. Rex was the one who broke his trust and went to scheme with Obi-Wan!
Just as everyone had.
He walked alongside the group as they went, catching sight of the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons champions, exchanging pleasantries as they passed. Naturally, they both stopped to talk to Obi-Wan, who stopped mid-spiel to politely wave.
“I think we could all use a break,” Padmé said, “I know I won’t be researching jinxes or curses while I’m in Honeydukes with my friends.”
“It’s just not worth it for me to go today,” Anakin clarified and noticed how Rex was chumming around with his older brothers. Nothing shocking there. He would always have them.
Anakin, on the other hand, had no such assurances.
Having followed his sullen gaze, Padmé frowned, “What’s going on between you two?”
“We’re in a bit of a row,” He said, since there was no point denying it, “I caught him chatting it up with Obi-Wan even after everything that’s happened.”
“So?” Padmé said, not following his logic.
“So, isn’t it written somewhere that whoever your best friend is in a fight with, you’re all in a fight with?”
“I think that depends on the complexity of the fight,” Padmé said, “If someone truly harmed or insulted one of my friends, no, I wouldn’t necessarily seek their friendship. However, if Sabé doesn’t like someone because they got into a quarrel about a group project, it’s really not my responsibility to uphold that anger for her.”
“Well, Obi-Wan did hurt me!” Anakin reminded her.
“No, you got your feelings hurt because you lost the second task and Obi-Wan’s been babying you.” She said a bit sharply, “And while he might be wrong for that, you haven’t found a better way to communicate that. You’re in a quarrel, yes, and it’s a stupid one.”
He opened and closed his mouth several times, utterly dumbfounded by the surprising amount of heat to her response. Padmé wasn’t afraid to put him in his place every now and then, but she usually did so with an unrelenting kindness. It seemed Anakin was burning through what left she had of patience.
Still, she softened before turning to follow the rest of Gryffindor house out the door and to Hogsmeade, “Would you expect me to quit talking to Obi-Wan?”
He hadn’t considered that she’d spent much time with him to begin with, though she was friendly with Satine, who was obviously more than friendly with Obi-Wan.
“No, I suppose not.” He said, shoulders dropping, “I guess I’m just paranoid that everyone’s turning on me in this tournament.”
“Don’t become so blinded by your paranoia that you push people away, Anakin,” She reminded him and then asked, “Do you want anything from Hogsmeade?”
“I guess requesting for you to apologize for me is a big ask?”
“Uh, yeah no,” She shook her head and followed her friends, “That much will be up to you.”
***
Obi-Wan caught his eyes drifting towards Satine, and really it was hard not too. She’d asked to borrow his Quidditch sweater, seeing as how her school sweater had been in an unfortunate accident the night prior. First years would always get up to mischief and it seemed like a few exploding ink pots had found themselves strewn around Ravenclaw's common room. He hadn’t been there to witness the initial fallout, only rushing in to catch the teary eyed first years being served a hefty amount of detention and instructions for cleaning up the mess they’d made. All the students' clothes were still in the wash and would likely take a rather long spin with a whole box of Madam Fay’s Stain Away to get them back to pristine condition. It was quite lucky that today was a Saturday and a Hogsmeade visit to boot.
“Third years! Over here please!” Satine’s voice carried over to him despite the rather rambunctious crowd around them. She’d told him she wanted to still be easily identifiable as a Ravenclaw prefect while they were out, and he couldn’t disagree. He himself had stuck with wearing his uniform as he often did, only his cloak had gone missing again so he’d decided to do without, “Need I remind you all of the rules,” Satine’s voice was commanding, as she always had the ability to be. It was another thing he admired about her. She was not often one to falter and certainly not one to allow herself to be spoken over or ignored.
It was something he himself had learned from her over the long years of their friendship. And he was quite sure that he’d never stop learning from her. That thought alone made him a little too giddy.
“Oi, Mate,” Cody waded his way through the throng of eager seventh years, “You're not planning to spend the whole day playing babysitter are you?”
“Of course not! I-” Obi-Wan started before he turned, eyes narrowing just slightly in warning, “Hondo, keep your hands to yourself please,” Never one to be embarrassed, Hondo just laughed and leaned a little closer to the Durmstrang boy next to him.
“Right, right,” They could hear him mutter, “Some things should be saved for later-”
“Well I will have to keep an eye out in that direction,” Obi-Wan cringed, turning back to Cody, “But as I was saying, no I have planned everything out, down to the last detail.”
“I hope you're not married to that,” Cody rolled his eyes, “Satine might want a say in things today.”
“I assure you I have thought of her desires quite thoroughly,” Obi-Wan let his eyes fall back over to her where she was reading out the rules to the third years who very much looked regretful for whatever tomfoolery let their morning devolve into something they considered so bland.
“Ew well you and her can sneak off and appreciate her desires later-”
Obi-Wan’s ears turned red, “Cody don’t be so crass-”
“-I did put in an order at Honeydukes,” Cody continued without acknowledging him at all, “It should be ready around three.”
“Hmm,” Obi-Wan pulled out a roll of parchment, his detailed schedule, “That should work out swimmingly, I booked the room above The Three Broomsticks for three thirty, should give us an hour or so before we should head back to the grounds.”
“Ah what’s the rush, it’s not like they care how late we come back, so long as we’re there tomorrow morning,” Cody waved a hand.
“Now you know that’s not true,” Obi-Wan straightened, “The rules specifically request that we be back before five-”
“And we’re graduating seventh years,” Cody shrugged, “They usually always stay a little later,” Neither of them decided to mention how and why that wasn’t the case for the year prior.
Obi-Wan hesitated, rules were there to be followed after all. But he would be lying if he claimed to not want to spend extra time out with his friends, “We’ll see,” He evaded finally.
It wasn’t long before the professors opened the gates and all the Hogwarts students eagerly raced their way towards Hogsmeade.
“Hey! No running! NO RUNNING!” Satine shouted at passing students as she joined his side.
“It’s a lost cause, my dear,” Obi-Wan felt their hands brush and he was bold enough in the moment to quickly grasp it in his own, “But now that you’re here,” He lifted her hand to brush his lips across her knuckles, causing her face to flush a little pink, “What would you like to do first?”
“I thought you said-” Cody tried to interrupt, but Obi-Wan just shot him a look. Cody rolled his eyes so hard Obi-Wan was sure he could see the inside of his skull. And no his friend wasn’t wrong, he did have a plan, but it wouldn’t be fair not to ask.
“Well I was sort of thinking a warm butterbeer might do me good,” Satine smiled and Obi-Wan blanched, “It is a chilly day, don’t you think it would be a good place to start?”
“Erm-” He hadn’t been expecting that, usually she was much more interested in checking for new books at Tomes and Scrolls before anyone else could swoop in. It was a bit of tradition at this point.
“Yeah it is a bit chilly,” Cody agreed with her, “But we’re coming across our shops first and I for one need to get the new copy of Seeker’s Weekly,” Cody coming to his rescue? Well it was better than whatever excuse he’d have to make up.
“Well if you must Cody,” Satine raised an eyebrow at him, “But I thought you got those in the post?”
“I do!” Cody grinned widely, “But they get to the shops faster sometimes.”
“I suppose I do want to see if I can get my hands on an advanced copy of the new muggle studies textbook,” Satine mused, “I wrote the author on some corrections that I am hoping to see updated.”
“It was very detailed,” Obi-Wan had edited it for her, 20 pages of very interesting, but very descriptive, uses of muggle devices, “I’m sure they’d be a fool not to take your advice.”
“It’s silly you know,” Satine’s eyes narrowed, the start of a rant certainly at the edge of her tongue, “That a wizard who grew up nowhere near muggle culture is the ‘expert’ on the subject.”
“I’m sure he did research,” Cody shrugged, “But yeah I remember your blender rant.”
“That’s because research should really be done by interacting with muggles, not just muggle devices,” Satine snarked, “And anyway, a muggleborn should write the text, it would certainly clear up many things.”
“Well I’m hopeful one day we’ll get there,” Obi-Wan curbed the discussion easily. It wasn’t that he wasn’t always down for such a conversation, and he agreed that someone as brilliant as Satine could surely write numerous textbooks that would be incredible reads. Obi-Wan didn’t want Satine to spend the whole day upset or frustrated. Instead he simply squeezed her hand and shot her a soft smile.
It wasn’t long before they came to Spintwitches and Tomes and Scrolls. There was no need to discuss anything further; they simply split up, the three of them opening their respective doors and entering at the same time. The ringing bell above the door in Spintwitches mingling with the delicate chime above Tomes and Scrolls before Obi-Wan and Satine let the door close behind them and the sky-high stacks of books lure them further into the store.
***
There was always something so familiar about sorting through stacks of books aside Ben that Satine almost could forget how weird he was acting. She had a couple guesses, but watching him try and sneakily check the time on his watch every few minutes was definitely amusing to say the least. Still there were some things she’d been planning to search for and she would take her last opportunity this year to completely devour as many books as she could.
“Ben, where did you put that book on the meshing of muggle science and magic?” Satine looked up from where she was debating between two different versions of the world history of magic. One of them seemed newer, but that same one had clearly cut out information to try and appear shorter.
“It’s really more of a journal than a book,” Ben handed it to her over his shoulder without glancing up.
“Sometimes a person's own discoveries can provide insight that research scholars cannot,” Satine quoted and Ben looked over with a sad sort of wry smile.
“Qui-Gon told you that in our fourth year,” He said, voice a little melancholic. She hadn’t missed the fact that he’d worn the ring today, the one carved out of Qui-Gon’s own wand. He hadn’t really worn it much at all, in fact she could count on one hand how often she’d even seen it. Likely it was partially due to the possibility of it getting damaged, but she hoped it wasn’t because of some dumb need to seem detached to the whole thing.
“I was really upset that day,” Satine recalled as she thumbed through the pages of the old journal, handwritten as expected, “Not only did I have to argue over the use of printers on my own, but I’d also been given an incorrect low grade on a potions essay.”
“Yes Professor Palpatine hadn’t considered the angle you were coming from,” Ben grimaced, “I thought for sure you were either going to set fire to his robes or flood Qui-Gon’s office with your tears.”
She scoffed, “As if you were any help,” She poked him in the arm, “You just stood there frozen while Qui-Gon was left to console me.”
“I didn’t know what to do!” He defended suddenly, “It’s not like I’d seen you cry like that before!”
“If I remember correctly you offered to ‘sign a petition’ or ‘write a letter’,” She teased.
“That’s all I could think of!” His face was red, clearly embarrassed, “At least I wasn’t the one to lock him in his office for you!”
Satine laughed at the memory of Professor Palpatine’s face when she’d finally managed to break Cody’s botched spell on the door, “I thought he’d have Cody expelled immediately. Or myself.”
“Well I still think you did a pretty good job apologizing,” Obi-Wan hummed, “I seem to remember him being very careful around doors that week.”
“I think he was just upset because he’d been trying to brew something and it smelled kind of off,” She shrugged, “He ran straight to the potions storage.”
“Well the whole thing ended up being a misunderstanding anyways,” Obi-Wan nodded, “He’d mixed up your scores with someone else's.”
“That’s what he said at least,” Though she actually still had some suspicion about it, “Headmaster Yoda ended up looking over it and he said it was deserving of top marks.”
Ben looked contemplative for a second before he spoke again, “Maybe I owe Anakin an apology. He and his friends are certainly not the only group to get into trouble around here.”
Satine waved the thought away, but made sure to let her hand fall onto his arm after and linger there, “Anakin gets into more trouble than we ever did. Still, it’s not like you’ve ever given up on him.”
“I do wish he’d stop ignoring me,” Obi-Wan’s eyes flickered down to the ring on his hand before he busied himself with stacking books once more, “I only want to help.”
“He’s thirteen, and stupid,” Satine reminded him, “He’ll come around.”
“Hopefully,” Obi-Wan added, as if getting his hopes up every now and then would truly be a crime.
“When we were thirteen I dared you to order a copy of that new disgusting pureblood romance book,” She shivered, “We were stupid too.”
“Oh great now I have to think of that too, thank you soooo much,” He groused and she laughed at the face he made, “I do recall in the third year that you and Cody tried to race down the staircases by sliding down the banisters.”
“I would have won too,” She found the need to say, “My technique was better, I practiced all the time against Bo.”
“You fell off the banister,” He pointed out.
She crossed her arms, “The stairs moved! They had it out for me!”
“I just think that makes me a better strategist,” Cody was standing over them holding his magazine.
“Is that a challenge there, Fett?” Satine felt the need to stand straight, though she was still shorter than both boys.
“You already lost Kryze,” He grinned cheekily, “Did either of you see any new Quidditch books I should know about?” He changed the subject quickly before they really could get up to some additional foolishness.
“As a matter of fact-” Ben pulled a book from his stack and handed it off to the Gryffindor, “This is based around your favorite Quidditch season, it’s fiction though.”
Cody appraised it carefully, “They say they’ve studied the event in great detail, but I hope none of the fiction nonsense gets in the way of the game.”
“I’d tell you if I knew,” Ben shrugged, “I can read it first if you want.”
“Nah, it’s worth a shot I guess,” Cody rummaged around for a few spare coins, “You don’t always notice whether or not the games are written correctly.”
“Well I’m terribly sorry that I don’t have every Quidditch game ever memorized,” Ben sighed, but picked up his own stack of books before looking at Satine’s, “Do you want me to carry yours too?”
“I appreciate the offer, Ben,” She let her hand run across his shoulders, “But if you carried both mine and yours, you wouldn’t be able to see over the top.”
Soon, they were back out in the bustling streets of Hogsmeade. Books tucked safely away in their bookbags, all charmed to be light and larger on the inside, of course. Such were some amazing aspects of magic. Now that she thought of it, she could offer to charm her mum’s purse too. She was sure her mum would appreciate some extra space. Bo would probably have preferred her bag be lighter, but would likely also bite off Satine’s hand if she tried.
“Next up?” Cody prompted and Ben turned a little pink as he looked over at Satine.
“Well I did hope to ask you earlier, so forgive me, but I did go ahead and book us a table at Madam Puddifoot’s. I know things went a bit awry last time, but-”
“I’d love to!” Satine jumped on the offer a little too eagerly, feeling her face heat up and she stammered trying to pull back her enthusiasm, “I-I just mean, since we had such a rough time last time…”
“Cody?” Ben turned to their friend, “Will you, er, will you be joining us or perhaps you had something else in mind?”
Satine blinked, it seemed a little blunt for Ben’s taste, but Cody checked his watch before grinning, “Alright mate, I’m on it.” Whatever he meant by that, Satine hadn’t a clue.
“Well in any case,” Ben extended an arm to her, “May I have the honor of your company?” She looped her hand through his arm swiftly and leaned in close. His ears turned red as her breath skated across his cheek, but he didn’t let it pause his casual stride down to the tea shop.
***
So far so good, Obi-Wan would have to say. Satine had thankfully taken his offer for tea. There would still be a little time to kill. This way, however, Cody could check in on the order, maybe head into phase two-
“What do you think, Ben?” He looked up, across the table to where Satine was letting the steam of her tea warm her face, “The lemon tea is delicious.”
“Pomegranate is pretty good,” He conceded weakly. Truthfully he hadn’t been paying attention to the flavors. Between making sure his schedule went to plan and admiring how cute Satine looked across the table from him surrounded by the horrible gaudy decor, he was a teensy bit distracted.
“A very weak argument,” She frowned, but took a sip of her tea regardless. He breathed in the scent of his own tea, the warm steam curling across his cheeks and he took a sip himself. It was easy to get lost in a moment here, he supposed that was why so many couples did come here, maybe why he’d come here with Satine a fair few times before they were together. It was warm and the tables were small. His legs were practically tangled with Satine’s beneath the table cloth. He would never say no to the sweets stacked precariously in the middle of the table and the amount of hideous lace meant their voices would never disturb those around them, caught like flies in a spider’s web.
“It’s not my first choice in tea,” He pondered, “Certainly an orange might have been a better call, but I was in the mood for something with a little more zest.”
“And you didn’t choose lemon?” She smirked, clearly enjoying the flow of debate more than the subject itself.
“I did not,” He shook his head, a smile painted on his lips. He checked his watch again.
“Late for something?” She asked, teasing, but he shook his head quickly.
“Of course not, there’s nowhere I’d rather be than here, with you,” He said sweetly.
“Hmm,” She hummed. She didn’t give him a sign of not believing him, instead just plucking an eclair that was crawling across the tray like an inchworm and inspected it before taking a bite.
“That’s one of my favorites,” He said and she gave him a silly sort of look.
“Then have a bite,” She prompted putting it between her lips and he felt his cheeks heat up at the implication. Still, he leaned over the table, their lips brushing a moment as he bit the end of it off.
Although his face was still burning, Satine just seemed nonchalant as she wiped a bit of chocolate off her fingers, “Wizard food is so weird,” She looked up as a chocolate frog slowly hopped its way towards what it clearly hoped was an escape route, “Your regular food is quite old fashioned, but your sweets are charmed to move about. It’s a bit jarring.”
“I’d have thought you’d have been used to it,” He managed, dabbing at his face with a napkin, as if this were some sort of fancy dinner party.
“I suppose,” She took a sip of her tea, “But having to catch your sweets isn’t something that you necessarily get used to, when muggle candy is nothing, but still.”
“Muggle candy,” He repeated in a bit of awe. It was definitely something he’d only gotten to try once or twice and he’d heard of some very interesting kinds from Satine and Anakin.
“We’ll have to work on expanding your horizons later,” She joked. He glanced over his shoulder and sure enough Madam Puddifoot herself was approaching with the bill.
At least this time he had a chance to pay properly and without having to sneak out the back. The streets were less busy, many students likely inside shopping or eating. It was a lovely day aside from the chill. It wasn’t like he had much time to feel it though, because Satine, holding onto his arm again, was standing so close to him that it was enough to make him feel like he was standing in a fire itself.
“I think it’s time for that Butterbeer now?” He prompted and Satine just looked over at him, her face so close to his.
“We just had tea, Ben, I figured that would be-” He wasn’t sure what exactly had come over him, but he was just so enamored with her. Her brilliant blue eyes, her flushed cheeks, the shine of her lip gloss. He didn’t even have to move his head much to bring their lips together. He was a bit too aware of their surroundings to let it devolve into anything more passionate than what it was. He pulled away before anyone saw, or at least he hoped so. Satine was rather flustered, words stolen right from her mouth. She didn’t bother saying a word of complaint as he opened the door and led them inside The Three Broomsticks.
***
The air here was warm with the fires going quite high and the amount of students crammed into every nook and cranny. To Satine, it probably felt even warmer considering how she was still reeling from that kiss. Perhaps she’d asked for it though, playing a bit brazen at the tea shop.
She didn’t even notice where they were headed until they were climbing up some stairs.
The Three Broomsticks had private rooms, but they were usually for adults to conduct meetings, not for students out for the day. But that was still where they were headed and suddenly things started adding up. She stayed silent though, letting her head rest on Ben’s shoulders for a moment, before he paused outside of a door and untangled himself from her.
She reached for the handle and pulled, revealing quite a wonderful sight. Her name was done up in a decoration with some rather rough color choices and a beautiful blue cake that had 18 candles lit up on it. Aayla, Stass, Bail, Breha, Cody, and others from her class cheered as she entered and she took the whole thing in as a warmth blossomed in her chest.
“Happy Birthday!” The room called. Cody being the loudest voice and Ben the softest.
It was Aayla who dragged her over to the cake, “Make a wish already!” And she did, she wished to remember this sight for a very long time.
The whole thing reminded her quite vividly of a similar party and she turned to her boyfriend, who had moved to make himself useful serving punch.
“Oh Satine!” He handed her a cup which she took, catching his hand with it, “Do you like it?” He asked a bit shyly, “Were you surprised?”
“Truthfully I expected something,” She told him and he looked surprised.
“But I was so careful not to say anything!” He seemed a bit ashamed, “Did I give it away?”
“I know you too well, my dear,” She set the punch down on the table and ran her free hand through his hair, “But I love it, thank you,” She leaned in and pressed her lips to his, grateful that they were so far in the corner; she doubted anyone would notice. She pulled back before it was too suspicious, “It was very thoughtful.”
“I’m glad you think so,” He said breathlessly, his eyes shone as he looked at her.
The cake was wonderful, it was a kind of no melt ice cream cake, that Cody had picked out after sending an owl to ask her mum her favorite flavor. And it was nice to have a moment to chat amongst her friends. She hadn’t had much time for these things this year and well, there was the looming day of their departure from this place where it was unlikely she’d get them all together in the same room again.
It wasn’t time to reflect on such thoughts though, it was instead time for some silly wizard games, ‘Pin the tail on the Loth Cat’ was clearly a fan favorite despite its childish nature, and presents.
Aayla and Stass had gone in together to buy her a couple of cute sweaters. Bail and Breha had gotten her a very nice new quill set. The surprise showstopper gift had been from Cody. He’d gotten her an embossing kit with some different color powders.
“You were complaining about having to hand write all your headers,” He’d explained, “And you're likely going into some fancy ministry job, so, you know,” And he’d shrugged like he hadn’t put a lot of thought into it.
Ben, of course, was a master of giving gifts and had bought her a few books she’d been eyeing, but hadn’t told him about. And he’d pulled her aside while they were taking down the decorations to give her a long slim package that she took curiously.
She ripped away the silver wrappings and pulled off the lid to reveal a necklace with glittering blue stones. In the middle was a masterly carved wooden charm. It was small, but it was made to look like several pieces of wood were woven together.
“Is this-?” She had a theory, but couldn’t be sure.
“You know,” Ben shrugged, “Qui-Gon was important to you too. I know you miss him and well, now you have something to remember him by. If you want it, that is.”
She looked down and touched the delicate charm, “It’s beautiful, thank you.”
“I picked out the stones too,” He smiled at her, “I thought they’d best match your eyes.”
“Care to find out?” She held the chain out to him and he seemed to freeze, swallowing a moment before he carefully moved behind her.
She swept her hair out of the way and he gently draped the chain around her neck, fastening it with careful hands that brushed her neck just enough to make her shiver.
“Well?” She asked, “How does it look?”
“It’s a perfect match,” His eyes flickered from the glittery stones to her eyes.
“I’d be more shocked that they didn’t,” She smiled, feeling warm not for the first time that day and certainly not the last, “You do have a perfect memory.”
“And yet,” Ben’s hands closed around her own, “I find myself seeing you clearer every day.”
***
Hogsmeade wasn’t the same without Anakin to goof around with. Rex had feigned ill to go back early and Windu looked quite perturbed by the interruption of his butterbeer with the other professors. It was for this reason that he requested Rush Clovis, who had unfortunately been in the vicinity, to walk him back to the castle.
“Sorry about this,” He murmured as they walked. Despite being on the same Quidditch team, he and Clovis didn’t have a ton of face time. Cody talked frequently about his skill and how Clovis had a lot of experience thanks to playing in a club league amongst dignitaries back home. They played a more “refined” approach to the game, but he was talented nonetheless.
“No worries,” Clovis said and placed a hand on Rex’s shoulder, “I know Honeydukes can be quite tempting. It’s easy to overindulge.”
“Oh that’s not-” But then Rex realized that was a very easy excuse and chose to go along with it. “Yeah, too many bonbons.”
“Every man has a vice, Rex,” Clovis said, “Where’s Skywalker, though? I rarely see the two of you going solo.”
“I’m not sure why he decided to stay back. Maybe he wasn’t feeling well either,” Rex knew it likely had to do with their fight, though it was Anakin’s fault that they were in one. He could talk to anyone he wanted and he’d been loyal this entire time!
“Padmé seemed a bit concerned about him,” He said, “Though she always is, hm?”
“Well, Anakin gives you a lot to worry about,” Rex said, “What with the tournament and stuff.”
“It’s sweet how kind her heart is though,” He said, “Wouldn’t you say?”
“I’m not sure we’d be as far as we are in research if she didn’t help,” Rex admitted, “Anakin definitely listens to her better than he does me.”
“She would make a fantastic teacher then, if she weren’t to be queen one day,” Clovis said, “I would encourage her to pursue that as well, of course.”
“Yeah,” Rex said. “She’s cool.”
“And the sort of sibling relationship the three of you have forged, that’s rather charming to see too,” He commented lightly.
Rex didn’t know what to say about that, though Clovis was eyeing him from the side as though depending on an answer. Even though he was presently mad at Anakin, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t still have his back.
“I’ve never had a sister before, mate,” He shrugged, “Not sure what that would be like. Cody once dressed the twins in a set of dresses when they were tots, but they got him back by dipping all of his socks in honey and sticking them to the wall.”
“Yes, you Fetts surely handle your issues in interesting ways,” Clovis snorted, not disapprovingly though, and he eyed a rather large sign that would catch anyone’s attention as they walked through the front gates.
“Krell Smellz Like Hell.” Clovis read, emphasizing on the hard “z” at the end and then looked down to Rex, “This wouldn’t happen to be your work, would it?”
“I wish I’d thought of something so simple,” Rex said with a laugh, “He’s going to be bloody pissed by that.”
“Yeah, and I’m going to regret giving that person detention,” Clovis sighed before turning back to the way they’d came, “Do try and stay out of trouble, Rex.”
Rex intended on doing that, even if he did have to go see the banner up close. Krell had been at Hogsmeade, throwing mud balls at some unsuspecting students, so this would be a deserving punishment to say the least. However, his attempt at remaining completely out of trouble likely failed when Anakin emerged from his hiding spot to spell an animation of Krell picking his snout for a bogey onto the banner.
“Are you mad?” Rex laughed, “Trying to get a week’s worth of detention, are ya?”
“What do you think?” Anakin answered instead, dusting his hands on his jeans and offering a shy smile to Rex, “I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”
Rex waved him off, “It wasn’t really the same, to be honest.”
“No?” Anakin rocked back and forth on his feet. They stood in silence, either unsure quite what they should say, before Anakin spoke up, “Listen mate, I’m sorry for blowing up at you. I was just being insecure.”
“I don’t know why you’d think I would choose Kenobi over you,” Rex said, “You’re my best mate and have been since we turned up at this castle!”
“Yeah, you have,” Anakin smiled, “But even if you did want to talk to Obi-Wan, it’s really not my place to tell you that you can’t.”
“I appreciate it,” He said, “I’d really only wanted help in sending Krell swimming. Expectedly, he couldn’t do much on his own.”
“Just like last time,” Though Anakin didn’t sound angry or upset, just contemplative, “Well, we got him by pranking him technically. Maybe we can do that again.”
“What about Gunray and the tournament? You’re crazy busy!” Rex said.
“I’m never too busy for my best friend,” Anakin smiled, “Besides, I- uh, might have lost a Restricted Sections permission slip to a really important book that would help us.”
“You- what?”
***
“That moron,” Sidious snarled as he bent down to pick up the crumbled up permission slip. He was practically handing him an answer to assist with the third task over to him and it was thrown away like garbage.
It wouldn’t help him win, no, but it would have helped him survive what he had in store.
Then, he thought it over. He knew exactly what to do with this. He’d been keeping an eye on the social scene he elected to participate in. There were many disgruntled families over a certain pureblood’s departure from their realm and while he didn’t usually see much reason to participate in the small details, he could always benefit from pleasing his compatriots who he would later require the support of.
There was an easy shift in the current, one that Sidious had no trouble making. It required little more than tucking the permission slip in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s missing robe and leaving it in the common room, waiting for him on the couch.
He was a smart boy, he would know what to do with it. Hell, he’d probably believe himself smart enough to have come up with the whole thing on his own. He was always playing with fire these days anyway.
Why not let him burn a bit?
***
When Anakin found Padmé, her nose was buried in a book, a place that despite a lot of his attempts at trying, was not where Anakin’s nose ever wanted to be. Still, he knew that fighting it would be useless, as he really did need to study to make his big comeback for this third and final task. It was still two months away, but time was racing by this year even without the usual monster gunning right for his neck.
“That’s it!” She slapped a hand down on the table, causing it to briefly shake and stir every previously focused student’s gaze onto her. They didn’t look too happy about being interrupted, but Padmé hardly minded, especially when she was onto something.
“Whatcha reading?” Anakin asked, craning his neck to the side to try and read the spine.
“I figured it out,” She said, placing the book down flat to reveal her wide brown eyes.
“I haven’t heard of that one,” He joked, “Though honestly, I haven’t heard of most of them.”
“Seriously, Anakin, this is huge.” She leaned across the table and whispered, “Did you ever wonder why you’ve been so safe this year?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call that gigantic bouncy ball nearly crushing me “safe”, you know.” He said and then coughed when he realized how lame that sounded, “Yes, why?”
“Because you were never meant to be in any real danger, anyway.” She said, “You weren’t meant to be in this tournament!”
“You’re just cheering me up more and more.” He retorted and crossed his arms, “I’m beginning to think everyone believes that.”
“It’s not a belief, it’s a fact. Whatever you did to tamper with the goblet, it’s thrown off the entire rhythm of the previous curse laid upon it.” She reasoned.
“That’s- wait, previous curse? What do you mean?”
“This wouldn’t be the first year the cup was cursed,” She explained. “In 1669, Professor Malak, a secret Sith enthusiast, cursed the cup in order to plague a student named Revan, who’d grown too powerful. However, Malak wasn’t the only person after Revan. Exar Kun, a philosopher of the dark arts, also wanted Revan to perish and cursed the cup whilst handling it. Because they both cursed it, it ended up plaguing Revan greatly and causing him to lose his memory and eventually turn good.”
“That seems like one of those old stories.” Anakin wrinkled his nose, “Nothing real.”
“It is real,” She said, “Revan would grow up to destroy Malak and the Sith Navy of that time.”
“Where are you even getting the idea that the cup was cursed in the first place?” He asked.
“Because… And I never told anyone this, but that final night… I saw something.” She said hesitantly.
“What do you mean?” He asked slowly.
“I didn’t think much of it then or even until now, because it didn’t seem as strange as maybe it should have been, but it was late.”
“Late?” Anakin paused, “What were you doing roaming around the cup late at night?”
“I’d heard rumors that some were going to try and mess with it!” She stuck her nose up, “And I was keen on catching them in the act and stopping them. I hardly wanted the reputation of our school weighing on a foolish prank. I read the political forums of the paper as any future leader should, after all.”
“Kay,” He waved her off, “So you were planning on snitching.”
“Don’t say it like that,” She furrowed her brow, “You were risking your life!”
“Right, sorry, tattle-taling.” He amended.
She screwed her face in an annoyed furrow before shaking it off, “Anyway, I beat you lot there and waited in hiding of course. But as I did, I couldn’t help but notice something weird about the fire.”
“It changes colors sometimes,” He explained.
“I know that,” She rolled her eyes and then grew thoughtful, “But did you ever stop to look at the pattern of its reflection?”
“Uh… No? It’s just light.” He said.
“Right, as it should be, but that night, it formed this really weird symbol. At first I thought I was just tired. School had just started and after a second’s time, it faded. I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me.” She nodded and then flipped the book towards him to show him an old drawing of the goblet.
Sure enough, reflected on the ground was a symbol Anakin remembered from the Sith temple where the Zillo Beast had been held, right at the center. A chill caused him to shiver and he absently pulled his robe around himself.
“That’s… That’s the Sith symbol,” Anakin explained, “Or so I think, anyway.”
“It’s also the sign of a cursed divine object,” She said.
“So, you’re saying, because the cup was cursed twice in my direction, I’m going to destroy the Sith. Just like Revan.” He nodded, “Yes that makes sense.”
“No, you weren’t supposed to be involved, remember? So the curse was never directed towards you.” She said, “It was directed towards the other Hogwarts contestant, the only one who’s had abnormalities occur during both of his tasks.”
“No way.” Anakin stammered, “Why would Dooku want Obi-Wan?”
“Maybe he doesn’t.” She said, “Maybe that’s just it.”
Anakin let that stew for a moment as realization dawned on him.
“Ziro was initially betting against Hogwarts completely!” Anakin gasped, “That’s because… They knew who would be in the tournament. Then, when I got in, that’s why Gunray was threatening him to change his bet!”
“And how would they know that if they weren’t in line with Dooku?” She asked.
“But why protect me?” Anakin asked, “I’m the chosen one! I’m the real problem, here! Ask anyone around!”
“I don’t know,” She said gravely, face turning quite frightened, “Unless he’s got something worse planned for you.”
Anakin didn’t want to think about that. He’d really believed that he’d survived on his own wits and strengths this entire time. To hear that this might not be the case was disheartening enough, but the thought that anyone wanted to take Obi-Wan out was all encompassing.
“You have to tell him,” She said, “There’s a reason that shark was there, or that he didn’t get a proper hint for the second task or the fact that the dementors were there at all. One can only imagine what’s going to happen next.”
Instinctually, Anakin almost leapt on his feet and ran to Obi-Wan himself, but stopped suddenly and shook his head, “He doesn’t need my help. He’s Mr. Bigshot now.”
Padmé, however, was not in the mood, because she slammed another hand down on the table, stirring Anakin more than he’d care to admit and fixing him with a lethal stare.
“I am sick of this! You need to make up.” She said, “This is ridiculous.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Anakin rolled his eyes, “You don’t know what it’s like-”
“Anakin Skywalker, he is your mentor!” She snapped, “Not to mention your friend and someone who has cared for you since the moment you showed up at Hogwarts!”
Before that, technically, but Anakin wasn’t about to correct her when she was on a roll. He’d never seen her like this: nostrils flared, face red, lips curled. He felt more fear towards Padmé than he had for the dragon.
“Who put his life at risk looking for you while the Zillo Beast was attacking?”
“Obi-Wan did, but Qui-Gon was the one who-”
Her glare intensified, “Who ran head first into danger regardless of curfew or his own safety to save you from Dooku?”
“Obi-Wan, Cody and Sat-” But he didn’t get to finish that thought in full before she was charging on her next rant.
“-Who took you into his home, Anakin?” she asked.
“Obi-Wan… And his parents-”
“-Or ran through a hoard of dementors despite his own fears to save you, limp and broken on the stairs?”
“I don’t think that last detail was really necessary, Padmé.” He frowned. “But Obi-Wan did that, I know. He’s always saving me! I get it!”
“So, you’re telling me that after complaining about how he’s always saving you and how you can do it yourself, you’re not even going to try and save him?”
When it was put like that, or along any of the examples she’d given, he knew it was ridiculous, and quickly, he felt whatever ice had grown around his heart crack down the middle.
“But…” there was still the ache of that birthday present going unnoticed, as awful as that sounded. He was going to tell him about the target on his back, of course he was, but the crack in the ice had only revealed a raw sense of hurt that was the true reason for his continued silence. “But what if he doesn’t care anymore?”
“Who has tirelessly looked over every assignment, checked in with you on every class, and ensured that you were always ready for your exams?” She asked.
“-Obi-Wan,” That one was easy, “Though I’ve been doing that all by myself pretty easily these days, what’s your point?”
“You sure about that?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
Well… His Charms homework had been in his bag all along, yes? And he had written down the homework assignment impeccably for his own memory, right? Not to mention that he would definitely make sure to organize his books in order of class-
“He’s… He’s still helping me?” He asked. “But I said-”
“-Some mean things,” She verified, “Because you were hurt, and he probably knew that, and he’s giving you the space that you want, but he’s not going anywhere… Not unless you let him.”
“Well, then, I guess we ought to find out if your peanut butter sandwiches are as good as mine were.” She said and scooted so she was right up against him. He took the hint and placed his arm around her shoulders.
“I warn you…” His face was still adorably flushed as he attempted his own composure. “I have burnt water before, but I can explain to you what some of the stars mean.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I would love that.”
—Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden // Magical Forces AU (ao3 link)
Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden~ Year 3: February
(Ao3 link)
“There’s no way this is from a children’s comic book, Anakin,” Padmé sighed disapprovingly as she stared at the emotionless face stained into the previously glittering parchment. Though it wasn’t on the list of possibilities to what it would mean, Rex figured she would have crossed off Anakin’s suggestion if she actually had written it down.
“What? Don’t be ridiculous, that’s not what I said!” Anakin complained with as much fervor as anyone madly defending his case would, “He’s from a comic book cartoon series! It looks just like the Phantasm from Batman the Animated series!”
“That show is fictional.” She argued.
“You’ve never even seen it, how would you know?” He crossed his arms over his chest like he had her there.
“You just said it was a cartoon,” She deadpanned, “That’s hardly a notorious encyclopedia of truth, now is it?”
“There are educational cartoons,” He grumbled, “I’m just not dull enough to entertain them.”
“Well, either way, it’s quite impossible for a character to crawl from a television screen and into reality.” She reasoned, “Even with magic.”
“You already have an arch nemesis in Dooku,” Rex offered, “Remember?”
“I guess, but he hasn’t even really done anything lately.”
“Um, I’m sorry, did he or did he not just commit mass arson on that poor town in Calvary?” Padmé asked.
“It’s not been confirmed to be him,” Anakin said with a shrug, “And no one died or even got hurt, so it’s a bit soft to be him, wouldn’t you say?”
“Newspapers reported a shadow of a figure lurking at the scene of the crime,” Rex read curiously, “Tall and lurking, disappearing into the dead of the night after casting a strange symbol.”
“The pictures aren’t moving,” Padmé hummed, “Must have been a muggle print.”
“It is,” Anakin confirmed, climbing to read over her shoulder. Judging by the look of appraisal she gave him, far too closely. He had eaten all those garlic mashed potatoes for lunch and that surely wasn’t a pleasant scent to be too close to. Anakin paid her no mind though as he read on, “That does sound like him.”
“But why there?” She asked. “What would the purpose be?”
“Why strike Diagon Alley?” Rex debated. “He didn’t even go after Anakin.”
“But we think he kidnapped his mum,” Padmé said, “So, clearly, he’s trying to get to him somehow.”
“Even if not directly,” Rex said.
“If he took my mum, that is,” Anakin said, tracing absent circles into the table. Of course, this comment immediately drew both Padmé and Rex’s individual attentions as Shmi’s disappearance and how it was surely Dooku’s fault had been a good portion of what Anakin talked about.
“What are you getting at?” Padmé asked, “Who else would it be?”
“It wasn’t Maul. We know that,” Rex didn’t include the fact that if it had been Maul, he likely would have gutted her like a fish and strung her up a flagpole for all to see. That was the sort of sick bastard he was. Dooku, it was obvious, was far more interested in the long con. He was a Ravenclaw once upon a time. Strategy was something they tended to hold near and dear.
“What if it’s him?” Anakin pointed to the page without looking at it, as though he didn’t want to linger for too long on the blank pupil-less stare that the grim looking face portrayed. It was the first time Rex had any real visual aid on this figure that Anakin had only vaguely described. It was clearly a mask of some sort- quite robotic and sharp in its features, but most definitely ominous. It made Rex both wonder and fear what lay beyond it.
“Him? Him who?” Padmé asked.
“Vader… He just screams evil, even without the snake voices and the haunting prophecies he tried to spew at me.” Anakin said.
“When was the last time you dreamed about him?” Padmé asked.
He seemed hesitant to answer that, flickering her blue gaze towards Rex. Rex couldn’t blame him for his caution. It wasn’t like any guy he knew would be too keen on spilling when he had bad dreams to a pretty girl.
“This summer,” He admitted, “I think, I don’t know. Sometimes he’s not right there, it’s like he’s far away from me… Watching.”
“That almost sounds worse,” She said.
“He hasn’t been at the center of them since first year,” Anakin said, “Now, it’s more like he’s in the audience.”
“Definitely spooky.”
“Definitely,” He agreed ardently, “And it can’t be a coincidence that he’s what appears on my golden parchment.”
“But how does that tie into your mother?” Padmé asked, not dismissive like earlier, but genuinely curious where it all added up, “She’s not related to the tournament.”
“Except in the sense that she’s the reason Anakin is doing it,” Rex said.
“So, what if that’s what this is, unveiling my true purpose for doing the tournament and like, an obstacle in my way?” Anakin suggested, scratching his chin in a way that mimed Obi-Wan, even if he might not have intended for this to be the case.
“But you’ve never seen this… Person outside of your dreams. What if he isn’t even real?” Rex suggested. “How can a nightmare man steal your mum?”
“He’s real,” And this time, Anakin lacked his usual charisma as he said it with pure sincerity, “Trust me.”
The three of them looked between each other for a long beat, considering what this meant if someone like this figure did exist. It reminded Rex a bit of the chilling ghost stories that Hevy would tell them when they were all younger, the sort that resulted in him embarrassingly slipping up to Ninety-Nine’s room to sleep on his floor. He’d always felt safer there and he couldn’t explain why.
“Okay, he’s real then,” Padmé was the first to break the silence that stretched over them, “But how does that help us with what the second task will actually contain?”
Another fine question that they didn’t have an answer to.
“And where is Dooku in all of this?” Rex asked, “Surely, he could have also taken your mum. He has the most reason to.”
“No, but like, why wouldn’t Dooku use her to lure me in or something?” Anakin asked. “He could have done it at any moment and I would have come.”
That was a chilling thought on its own, that Anakin would willingly follow the trail down the rabbit hole and into the lion’s den to rescue his mother. He supposed he couldn’t blame him, knowing that he would fight all forces to save any of his brothers or his father, but it was still scary how easily this was said.
Padmé either didn’t want to acknowledge this for what it was or was prioritizing the conversation at hand first, “Who knows what he could have planned, Anakin? Like you said, he’s been quiet these past two years, but we know he’s got a plan of some kind.”
“I don’t think Maul was a part of it though,” He said thoughtfully, “So, maybe it’s changed.”
“Clearly, he doesn’t care about the tournament,” Rex huffed, “Otherwise, you would have been dragon meat.”
“I got out of that on my own skill and strength! Dooku couldn’t have stopped me even if he wanted to.” Anakin argued, even if it seemed apparent that he didn’t completely believe that to be true. They had seen Dooku duel Qui-Gon before and that had been a sight to be seen. The late professor couldn’t defeat him and just about hold him off, despite his own apparent power. Then, he’d fallen to Maul, who was utilized more like the Zillo Beast was in the past- an unleashed monster.
“Yeah, but he wanted you dead so badly! And even last year, he wanted you frozen in carbonite,” Rex said, “But this year? Nothing besides a few little fireworks in comparison. I wonder if he’s just stalling for something darker than we can imagine.”
“I’d really like to not think about that, thanks.” Anakin said and then shot a self conscious look towards Padmé, “Not that I’m scared, of course, but what if it’s not just Dooku? It can’t be, right? One guy can’t destroy the world.”
“I think history books would speak a bit differently on the effects that one person can make- good or bad,” She said, “But I see your point. We know he teamed up with Ventress last year. What if we try to talk to her to see if she knows anything about this Vader person?”
“Ventress?” He made a face. “Can’t we just try to give a hug to the Whomping Willow?”
“Or maybe lick some devil’s snare?” Rex snorted.
“Or rip out some mandrakes for a chat?” Anakin continued.
“Or-”
“-That’s enough,” Padmé sighed with a tired smile, before Rex could offer another fate that seemed comparable to spending voluntary time in Asajj Ventress’ spiteful presence. “Let’s just see what she has to say. Something tells me she’s maybe mellowed out a bit.”
“Why do you say that?” Rex asked suspiciously.
“Yeah, no offense, but are you daft?” Anakin chimed in.
“Oh, nothing,” She smirked, “Just a theory.”
“I would, but I’m actually all booked up this afternoon,” Rex’s eyes bugged out a bit as he caught a glimpse of the clock. He was running late from his shift babysitting little Stinky the Hutt and really didn’t feel like listening to another lecture from one of his brothers about taking care of the pets he brought home. They wouldn’t be completely incorrect in that joke either.
“What? You’re not going to make us go alone, are you?” Anakin asked, “What could you possibly be doing that’s more important?”
Padmé was silent, though judging by the curious look in her eyes, was thinking something along the same lines. It was also obvious that lying to her would be much more difficult in terms of execution than it was for Anakin.
As for the guilt aspect, well, that was never easy.
“I’ve got to… Take guard on Ninety-Nine’s house. You know it was attacked recently.”
“With eggs,” Anakin groaned, “Nothing was even broken!”
“It could have been,” He reasoned.
“Yeah, if his house was made out of paper!” Anakin said. “Do I need to remind you that we are close to figuring out the second task?”
“You don’t,” He said calmly, searching to Padmé for help, even if she was likely aware he was lying to the both of them. He was surprised to find a bit of sympathy touching her gaze.
She laid a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, immediately garnering his gaze, “Hey, you know, maybe it’s not such a good idea for him to talk to Ventress anyway. Not privately. After what happened last year.”
That hadn’t even occurred to Rex in the slightest, but he was pissed it hadn’t. Anakin instantly changed in mood, appearing a bit scorned by the memory of Rex encased in carbonite. It hadn’t been for very long- in fact, his fate within stone was the shortest, but Anakin had beaten himself up over it.
“Oh.” He said, blue eyes a bit guilty, “I hadn’t thought of that. Yeah, maybe this wouldn’t be the best mission for you, Rex.”
“I mean, I’m not more scared of her than I am for Ninety Nine’s face when I’m late,” He teased lightly, not wanting such a burden on Anakin.
“This is Ventress we’re talking about! She’s way scarier! Why else do you think Obi-Wan didn’t want to marry her?” He insisted.
“Well, I can think of a few reasons for that,” Padmé suggested.
“I know, and I’ll catch up later!” He insisted, moving to get up this time, “You know I can’t abandon my brother, Anakin.”
“Yeah, I know,” He said with a bit of a long face, “If she eats us, it’s on your conscience.”
“Duly noted.” He said before taking a run for it out the door.
“And just why would I want to help you ?” Ventress practically growled as she returned looking a bit flustered and pink (at least for someone as pale as she) from the greenhouses. Her short hair was ruffled and her clothes, though usually pressed and tight, seemed a bit off kilter. Padmé could immediately draw a few conclusions as to why, but had to force herself not to think about the night of the bonfire again.
But some things could not be erased from the memory.
“Because maybe you’ve found time between torturing the children of Europe and scaring away baby animals everywhere?” Anakin suggested, to which she sharply elbowed him. It wasn’t that she disagreed that Ventress was horrid, but that wouldn’t be getting them anywhere.
The aggressive action earned a yelp from him and a narrowed glare from Ventress. Overall, they’d had very minimal interaction together over the years, of which she’d previously been thankful. Ventress had attacked Rabé last year, which was something Padmé still struggled with forgiving and certainly never forgot about, but right now, she was the only one to know much about Dooku. At least the Sith rendition of Dooku.
“Because you’re the only person with any real knowledge of Dooku and who he works with,” Padmé explained matter-of-factly, because while someone like Ventress hardly respected honest people, she also likely wouldn’t tolerate stupid lies either.
“And you felt it wise to bring this subject to me?” She asked in a low voice, her gaze becoming more shrewd as she considered Padmé and ignored Anakin.
Padmé shook her head, “I understand it’s a touchy subject to say the very least, but when it comes down to the wellbeing of our student body as well as an ongoing missing person’s case, necessity comes before comfort, wouldn’t you say?”
Ventress snorted and cut through them with ease, “Not interested.”
“Big surprise there,” Anakin muttered, crossing his arms, “When has she ever helped anyone? Well… Besides Dooku.”
She flared, turning on her heels and shooting a venomous look towards Anakin, “I’d watch your mouth, Skywalker, because the last person who was so cavalier with discussing my previous employment didn’t walk away from it quite as smug.”
“I heard he lost a thumb,” Anakin whispered, though much to Padmé’s chagrin, sounded more intrigued than scared.
“We just need to know if he had any other allies that you were aware of.” Padmé pushed again, not taking her threats too seriously. Ventress had eyes on her around every corner, and not just from the perspective of the school. She couldn’t risk a scandal as damning as murder or torture again.
Hell, she should have been in Azkaban after the carbonite stunt.
“I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized you were hard of hearing, princess,” She spat, “Because this is a discussion I will not be having with the likes of you.”
“I thought you were supposed to be in support of me during the tournament!” Anakin complained.
“I’m supposed to be a lot of things,” Ventress scowled, “But I don’t care what happens to you, only how you benefit me.”
“That seems a little too honest if you ask me,” He said.
“What can I say? I’m turning over a new leaf,” She flashed a toothy grin, showcasing just how sharp her mouth was when all her teeth were out to be seen. It was anything but warm and reassuring, but that was likely not the intent to begin with. She attempted to stalk off again, but Padmé realized now was the time to play the only real card in her hand.
“No, of course you don’t care what happens to Anakin in the task. Why would you?” She asked casually, placing her hands on her hips.
“Hey!” Anakin complained.
“You’ve hardly got much to gain from his victory, especially when you’ve got a more vested interest in another champion.” She went on, making sure to catch the Slytherin’s eyes with her own, ensnaring her into a trap of knowing her dirty little secret. It wasn’t Padmé’s style, but she’d be a liar to say it didn’t come in handy, especially with those who never played fair.
“Please, she doesn’t care what happens to Obi-Wan.” Anakin, who still hadn’t picked up on the intense stare being shared between the two older girls, was still trying to make a case for his own importance. “Plus, I’m the one who’s supposed to save the world someday. You’d think she would care a little bit.”
“That’s right...” Ventress said slowly, which to anyone else would seem to be Obi-Wan, her apparent betrothed, but Padmé knew differently. Any color that she previously had was washed away and soaked with contempt and confusion. She knew she was caught, but couldn’t relay her aggression on this matter lest it get to Anakin, who wasn’t as kind about keeping secrets as Padmé could be.
“She’s certainly got a reputation to uphold,” Padmé said with just as much careful consideration as Ventress did, letting the double meaning behind her words marinate. “We’d hate to see that crumble.”
“And I would hate to see nosy people lose their extremities,” Ventress said tightly, “Particularly when they don’t know what they’re talking about.”
“Believe me, one does not have to be nosy to know ,” She said, “Just need to be able to see the forest through the trees .”
Perhaps, she shouldn’t have gotten such satisfaction from the slow and subtle way that Ventress’ jaw dropped a smidge, relaying the fact that she’d connected the dots of how Padmé might know what was going on. The cards were on the table, but there was no denying that one of them had a flush and the other had a wash.
“Am I missing something here?” Anakin finally asked, looking between them to realize that he wasn’t involved as much as he believed he was.
“No, Ventress is just realizing that perhaps she doesn’t have the leverage that she once believed she did.” Padmé still didn’t break the icy gaze that was being shot her way, determined to win this invisible game of tug-of-war.
It went on for only a few seconds more before Ventress looked away, accepting defeat in the subtle tones of a slight rigid nod and a wave over her shoulder, indicating that they were to follow her.
“What just happened?” Anakin hissed as they scurried after her. “How did you do that?”
“Nothing you need to worry about,” Padmé patted him on the shoulder, “Just girl talk.”
“Girl talk? More like girl language .” He shook his head, blond strands falling even more askew, “And if you don’t mind, I’ll stay unfluent.”
Rex hadn’t slowed down his pace even slightly until he exited the castle and got to the hill that led down to Ninety Nine’s. However, such a sprint only resumed the moment he saw the distinct outline of Ziro the Hutt as well as Yoda and Gunray standing in the frozen pumpkin patch out front of the house. Behind them, appeared to be two Aurors, and not just any kind, but those from Azkaban.
“Oh bollocks!” He cried.
Just about every dreadful thought crossed his mind in the long and unstable strides he took down the side and towards the back door. This was all his fault, after all. He’d been the one to bring the kid in and stash him at his brother’s house, regardless of the odds. He’d spent so much time trying to protect him that he was the one to actually endanger him.
He’d never see Ninety Nine again quite possibly, if they were to toss him in the brink and lose the key as they did for most wizards who committed crimes against children. And really, that was the best case scenario considering this was an international crime at this point. Durmstrang was famous for its brutality and surely, when it came to the son of their leader, it would be no different.
They would never believe him if he stood trial (if there was a trial). And maybe the Ministry would allow it all to get brushed away to simply avoid a civil war. Rex could see Valorum crumbling at the pressure almost instantly.
Even with these horrible thoughts in mind, he didn’t allow them to deter his quest. He quietly slipped through the back door, trying his best not to draw any attention to himself, and crawled on hands and knees towards the makeshift bed on the floor. He didn’t so much as breathe to let anyone know that he was inside.
“I should have known the culprit lay within the help all along!” Ziro spat and if Rex weren’t so ensconced in his mission, he would have revolted at the way he said “help” like it was a disease or a curse. “I promise you this, Yoda, we will be pressing charges of the highest degree! This could very well divide our people permanently.”
“Now now, no one wants that,” Gunray said hastily, even if it felt a bit performative to Rex.
“Mhm,” Yoda also didn’t sound convinced.
From inside the little house, there weren’t too many overt signs that a baby was living there, besides the books in the corner. However, if he really wanted to, surely Ninety-Nine could argue his way through that. It wasn’t as though he had a crib or a bassinet.
He almost kissed the little huttlet when he noticed he was thankfully asleep and unbothered by Ziro’s raucous claims outside.
“He’s in there, I tell you!” He cried. “Arrest him now.”
“Without proof, we will not.” Yoda’s voice was much calmer and more collected than the upset Hutt, “Receive an anonymous tip, we did. A baby, they saw.”
Krell.
Rex knew they weren’t in the clear from the sneak attack that had been performed on Ninety Nine’s house the month prior. Nothing with Krell was ever so simple and harmless. In Rex’s book, he was the worst kind of person: a cruel coward. Even still, he didn’t have time to focus on his disdain for the bully, but instead scooped Rotta into his arms, taking care to bundle him in a big blanket first.
“I can explain,” Ninety Nine spoke this time and Rex’s heart clenched.
“I am sure you can,” Gunray huffed, “But not without an immediate search of the premises.”
“Wait-”
“-If you’ve nothing to hide, then you wouldn’t mind us putting an end to these claims now,” Gunray ordered, as though he was wielding any jurisdiction on the matter. There was a long pause before he continued, “That’s what I thought.”
By the time the door swung open, Rex was already long gone, running while also trying to swaddle the baby Huttlet to keep it from catching a chill or crying out. He was surprised that he hadn’t been happy to hear his uncle’s voice or called out to him. Then again, Rex wasn’t much for Ziro or any of Durmstrang either.
His heart was in his throat and he didn’t look back, grateful that there wasn’t any snow to leave prints and cutting through the edge of the forest to avoid being seen. He tucked Rotta into his jacket once he found it safe enough to come to a stop behind a tree.
“You are becoming more troublesome than you look,” He grimaced as he caught a whiff of what was surely a dirty nappy, “Or smell, for that matter.”
Instead of responding with anything intelligent, the baby just stared up at him through bleary orange eyes that were quite miffed to have had their nap interrupted. Rex wasn’t sure what he had expected, but if there was one thing he did know, it was that he was going to need a different plan.
“No, I absolutely refuse to entertain that thought!” Kenobi insisted as he took lead down the hallway, as though to escape the present quarrel he was having.
“And why is that?”
“Because it’s ridiculous, Satine!”
“What’s ridiculous, is how thick your skull can be beneath such a lovely head of hair!” Satine argued back, cheeks turning red in frustration, “It’s not as though we are swimming in options right now either.”
“That doesn’t mean I should have to swim in February!”
“You were fine with doing it last year!” She countered.
“That was for class!”
“For one thing, it was a club. It didn’t even give you extra credit, believe me, I checked.” She crossed her arms tightly. “Which is a prevarication in its own right since you led me to believe otherwise.”
“I did no such thing!” He said, “I have no dominion over where your thoughts go!”
“Alright, alright, I’ll bite, what are you two biting each other’s heads off over this time?” Cody sighed wearily. Technically, he’d been present for the entire conversation, though not mentally. There was only so much a guy could take, especially when they started pulling out large words such as “prevarication” and “dominion”. However, he really wanted to bring up a funny comic he’d read in the Daily Prophet and knew they’d be quite cross if he simply ignored their current ongoing debate.
“Satine wants me to dunk myself in a fountain!” Kenobi turned towards Cody for backup.
“What?” Cody frowned, looking towards his other friend for a better explanation.
“That is about 2% of the whole story,” She rolled her eyes, “Obi-Wan is just vexed because he can’t think of any other ideas.”
“Not true!” He insisted, “Pardon me for not wanting to add hypothermia onto my list of problems right now.”
“Oh stop, you don’t have to swim in it. Just drink it.” She said, “Inside the “Room of a Thousand Fountains” to be specific.”
“Which is highly unsanitary, might I add.” He said.
“I thought the arguing thing was supposed to stop once you two hooked up,” Cody commented plainly.
“Who said that?” Kenobi asked in disbelief.
“Me, probably,” Cody snorted, “Though that was likely wishful thinking come to think of it.”
“Most definitely, since he won’t budge on the subject,” She said and pointed a firm finger at Kenobi, “I swear, if I find out that Quinlan or Hera have been spending time at the mystery rooms of the Ministry of Magic, I will never let you live it down.”
“Something tells me you’ll never let me live anything down,” Kenobi said.
“Oh, just snog each other and make up.”
“I’m not snogging anyone until he at least considers it,” Satine said. “One of the fountains is supposed to be known as the “Fountain of Truth”, which very well could expose exactly what we need from the parchment.”
“That could be useful, mate,” Cody relented a bit as he glanced at the open book Satine had in her hands.
“If there’s anything to glean from the parchment,” He reminded her, which seemed to prick a different cord of anger.
“Have you written that letter to Yoda yet?” She asked.
“I haven’t heard back!” He rolled his eyes, “I’m not foolish enough to think I’d ever escape your wrath on that subject.”
“Well, you won’t be escaping it on this either,” She said, wiggling the book in front of him as though trying to tempt him with it. “Especially when it could at least reveal why your parchment appears to be dysfunctional.”
“It’s a myth!”
“So were the Sith and look how that all panned out.” Satine said, “So is true love’s kiss, but apparently you were against trying that too.”
“You could just try it now to give me some peace and quiet,” Cody muttered.
“-For the last time, I was trying to be gallant!” He pinched his nose. “If I could go back and kiss you a million times over, I would.”
“Yes, I know. Relax, I’m not begrudging you for that,” She said and showed him the open page again, “But we’re wizards, let’s not pretend we’re above any sort of nonsense magical hogwash.”
“She does have a point there,” Cody said.
“You’re supposed to be on my side!” Kenobi complained.
“Says who?” Cody frowned, “I’m on the winner’s side.”
“Ha!” Satine grinned.
“Mature,” He narrowed his eyes at her, though the longer he looked at her, the more his steely demeanor crumbled. That was the only downside to them getting together for Kenobi. He might never win another fight ever again.
Then again, Cody couldn’t think of many that he’d won before.
“Hey, when have I ever steered you wrong?” Satine continued, “Ignoring that seaweed incident second year, but really, how was I to know you were allergic?”
“I certainly didn’t.” He shivered. “Until then.”
“You’ve honestly never looked worse,” Cody nodded, thinking back to when Kenobi’s head resembled a puffer fish caught in a metal wire.
“I’m about to look worse while I’m getting dysentery from a public fountain,” He said through a heavy sigh.
“Like all water in the ministry as well as Hogwarts, it’s fresh and filtered with magic,” She shook her head, “It’s not like you have to take a big- Wait! You’ll try it?”
“Only on the grounds that I write for a vial of it to be sent here,” He said, “We won’t be going off property to get lost in the Ministry again.”
“But, you’ll do it.” Satine bounced a bit.
“You are far too excited about this,” He grumbled.
“I’m excited any time I win a debate.” She said with the wave of a hand, “You should know that by now.”
“Yeah, I should, since I happen to be your favorite verbal whipping post,” He deadpanned.
“Would you prefer it to be someone else?” She raised an eyebrow at him and he smiled a little sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.
“No, I suppose not.”
Relieved that they were moving away from wanting to kill each other to wanting to kiss each other once again, Cody allowed himself to take the lead to give them enough privacy to do just that if they so pleased, even if he knew they wouldn’t dare in the middle of the hallway with the possibility of being seen.
He didn’t see how looking at each other all softly was any better, but he didn’t bring it up at risk of finding himself in the middle of another argument.
However, he was immediately drenched in a whole new sense of dread when he spotted none other than his little brother, Rex, with a squirming unusually large stomach protruding out and what he swore was a little green hand pop out of his coat collar.
“Er, maybe you two need a moment to make up,” Cody proposed.
“Huh?” Satine asked.
Acting on instinct rather than thought, as any true Gryffindor would, he looked to his friends, who were luckily still a bit too enchanted by each other to notice the incoming youngest Fett. So, he did what he had to do and opened the storage closet to their right and gave them both the hardest shove he could manage, landing them both inside before slamming the door behind them.
“Cody! What the hell?” Kenobi yelled, pounding on the door. “Let us out!”
“Be right back!” He called over his shoulder.
“Oh you are so dead!” Satine shouted soon after, though Cody was already halfway down the hall, practically dragging Rex along with him and away from scrutiny.
Of all the places to be led by Asajj Ventress, the most concerning by far was Dooku’s old office, which still wasn’t completely ridden of all the trinkets found after his departure. Anakin was relieved to see that the security talking heads were gone, because he’d had quite enough of their antics the last time he was in this office.
“You’re not coming here to curse us with some voodoo magic, are you?” He had to ask, because while Padmé might have taken to understanding Ventress’ silent threats, he did not, and wanted to be prepared to defend Padmé if necessary.
“You wouldn’t be worth my time,” She sneered without looking up from the pile of large dusty books that she’d taken to sifting through.
“You hang out here a lot?” Padmé asked, likely based off of the way Ventress moved around the space like she owned it, taking care to light a fire and all.
“I will not be reducing myself to making small talk,” Ventress spat, “Regardless of whatever leverage you believe you may have.”
“Leverage?” Anakin was still confused, but Padmé didn’t seem keen on divulging. Maybe that had something to do with it.
“I’m surprised this place isn’t blocked off.” She said, ignoring Ventress’ desire for silence. Anakin was grateful for this. Simply watching Ventress dig for whatever she wanted them to see wasn’t enough to distract him from the harsh artifacts that were cluttered everywhere. Previously, the office had been pristine to his memory, but ever since the Aurors did a number on it, it was left in blatant disarray.
“The fireplace is now,” Anakin said with a nod, “From traveling, that is.”
“How do you know that?” Ventress’ frown deepened.
“Er- lucky guess.” He winced, “But I’d wager that the Aurors removed any other cursed items from here, thankfully before Maul showed up.”
“Yes, that would have been dreadful,” Padmé said and then corrected herself, “More dreadful than it already was, anyway.”
“Do you two always converse merely to fill the space of silence? Or do your words ever have true meaning?” Ventress asked.
“Haven’t you ever heard of multi-tasking?” Padmé retorted.
It didn’t seem to be the wisest choice when they should be on the defensive with Ventress likely up to her old tricks. However, she seemed undeterred by their unfortunate position of being at her mercy. Anakin couldn’t help but be impressed. She was brave.
“Haven’t you ever heard of patience?” Ventress responded coolly before finally discovering the book she’d been looking for. Contrary to all of the other artifacts and documents on ancient dark magic, this looked like a standard book of spells in defense against dark magic. It easily could have been an older rendition of the very textbook they used for DADA class.
Well, not this year, of course.
It didn’t appear to be the actual printed book that Ventress cared for, but what lay on the inside, including snippets of notes and sketches matching her script. There were even a fair share of moving black and white photographs tucked within the binding.
“Get into scrapbooking recently?” He quipped.
“In my spare time,” She replied sarcastically, “During my dalliance with the Sith cult, I kept note and record of any sliver of information I learned of the other members. Dooku was very tight lipped about anything outside of our partnership. If you could even call it that.”
“You wanted to keep tabs in order to cover your own back,” Padmé said.
“Well, as you’ve recently learned, a bit of blackmail can get you to wondrous places if used properly.” She said evenly, “But it was more than that towards the end. There was something off about Dooku’s recollection of events… Amongst other shady dealings.”
“Yeah, that might be the world domination factor,” Anakin said, “Can’t get much shadier than that.”
“Whatever,” She pinched her lips, “But within my time with Dooku, there was a masked man that would occasionally drop in.”
“Vader?” Anakin asked.
“What? No.” She leaned back, “Who’s Vader?”
“No one.” He said quickly, eyeing Padmé nervously, “Just… something I heard.”
Despite clearly wanting to double back and likely inquire further on this, Ventress continued on anyway, “I wasn’t allowed to know anything, of course, because he wanted to keep me in the dark. However, the name is Rael Averross. Dooku has many memories surrounding him.”
She then pointed a long black nail at the page in front of them, showing a black and white moving picture of a tall boy with a mop of dark messy hair and even darker eyes. Standing beside him, was a younger picture of Dooku, although he still looked quite ancient to Anakin. It wasn’t as though the former DADA professor was smiling, per say, but he was definitely not grimacing and that was most certainly an indicator of happiness if he ever did see one.
“Who is he?” Padmé asked.
“An old student,” She said, “He’s never said as much to me, as usual, but they were obviously quite close.”
“Were?” She pushed a bit.
“I still believe they might be.” Ventress added, showing a piece of an old envelope addressed to Averross at the Fanry estate in Sweden. In addition, she displayed a newspaper article of Averross going missing after the death of a Nim Pianna. Surprisingly, it was amongst a mass card for someone by the name of Jenza. However, this might have just been there by mistake.
“You think he’s been recruited as a Sith?” Anakin widened his eyes, scanning some of the more legible pieces of paper to find that the girl had died on Averross’ watch and it had spun him into turmoil. Evidently, they were cousins.
He knew how loss could drive any sane person into anger. He felt his own bouts of it at times.
“ That is mere speculation,” Ventress crossed her arms, “Believe it or not, not just anyone can join up. It’s quite exclusive. Not even I made the cut and I was ruthless.”
“Trust us, we remember,” He said, “So, why do you think he’s still involved with Dooku? Maybe he doesn’t know he’s bad either. None of us did up until two years ago!”
Ventress straightened, a strange expression crossing her face. In fact, it looked foreign, almost like fear. It wasn’t what he’d expected from her in the slightest, not when she’d shown zero remorse over the carbonite incidents from last year.
“Because he was here at the end of term.”
And when she showed them a sketch of this Rael Averross, both Anakin and Padme exchanged horrified expressions.
“Well, that definitely looks like Phantasm from Batman the Animated Series .” Anakin said.
“What the hell do you think this is? Show and tell?” Cody barked as he pushed Rex into an empty classroom and swiftly shut the door behind them for the sake of privacy. They were very lucky that it was lunch time and that most students were busying themselves with that, or else they could have had a true mess on them.
“I had to bring him here! He would have frozen to death!” Rex panicked, removing the slimy little slug from the front of his jacket and then hoisting him onto his hip. Even just technically being a baby, Rotta was quite large to hold for long periods of time, especially for someone of smaller stature like Rex.
“What happened to Ninety Nine?” Cody asked, suddenly feeling a rising sense of panic fall over him. “Is he okay?”
“Headmaster Yoda and Professor Gunray were given a tip that Rotta was being held there so I had to get him out of there before Ninety Nine was caught with the kid! Ziro was freaking the bloody hell out!”
“Did anyone see you?” Cody asked, placing firm hands on Rex’s shoulders.
“No, I don’t think so.” He said, “I ran as fast and as quietly as I could, but I couldn’t look back and check on Ninety Nine.”
He released a slow and stabilizing breath. If no one explicitly saw any of the Fetts with the baby and they didn’t find anything damning enough in Ninety Nine’s house, then they should still be safe, at least for now, “You did the right thing, Rexy. Good save.”
“Good save? It’s my fault we’re here in the first place!” He complained, “I hate lying to Anakin and Padmé and I’m tired of getting spit up on my jumpers. Not to mention the fact that I almost got our poor brother tossed in Azkaban.”
“I’m not sure Ninety Nine would appreciate the way you said that,” Cody commented disapprovingly, “We all made our choices, because we know whatever was going to happen to the little guy that night, it wouldn’t have been good if we hadn’t stepped in.”
“But we haven’t gotten anywhere with it!” Rex emphasized, “And now we’re out of time! It’s not like we can just stow him under a bed.”
“He might like the smell of old socks.” He jested.
“How can you joke at a time like this?”
“Because I’m not sure what else to do, I’m thinking,” Cody said, “Who do you think tipped them off? I haven’t told anyone.”
“It was Krell.” Rex’s face suddenly went dark. “I know it.”
Oh, that murky bastard.
“But… Why?” Cody found himself asking instead of marching himself down to the dock where Durmstrang’s big boat was hooked up and giving him a piece of his mind. It wasn’t like Krell was above such things, but why be anonymous about it? That much didn’t make sense for someone who always liked to obtain other people’s glory.
“Because he’s the worst, Cody! You know this better than anyone!”
“No, I get that,” He waved him off, “But who sent him?”
“Maybe he just did it to be a prat!” Rex suggested, “As I’ve already mentioned, he’s the worst!”
“Krell isn’t that smart,” Cody said, “Nor does he really have any reason to be so quiet about it when he could come out looking like a hero to Durmstrang. Someone either swore him to secrecy or he wasn’t the one to snitch.”
It was clear to Cody that Rex had, at the very least, wanted it to be Krell responsible for sending their temporary arrangement into a total frenzy, as this would have been a very easy thing to accept. Contrary to that belief, it wasn’t feasible, not when there were politics that he didn’t even understand at play here. He knew Krell would stop at nothing to make their family miserable, but he sure as hell wouldn’t do it quietly.
“Well, it has to be someone from Durmstrang.” Rex said, “Their emblem was outside of Ninety Nine’s house when it was egged.”
“Arseholes,” Muttered Cody, as he was still burned up by that story on its own, let alone what the true intention was.
“So, what do we do with him?” Rex asked, turning back to the little glob that quite happily sat in a desk chair on his own, smiling and sucking on its fist. Sometimes, but only sometimes, the baby could be slightly cute.
“It’s times like these that I wish I had my Ravenclaws.” He said, “It’s hard being the smart one.”
“And just who gave you that title?” Rex cocked an eyebrow.
“Well, seeing that I haven’t run with the kid on full display in my coat yet, I’d say it’s a default position between the two of us.” Cody pointed out. “What if we just leave him on Ziro’s doorstep?”
“And then what? He’ll know someone from Hogwarts is responsible!” Rex shook his head, “Or at least, he’ll suspect us specifically.”
That was that entire point of them keeping Rotta for the meantime, to get their school out of this mess.
“Well, what about Gunray?” Cody asked, “He’s with the Ministry as an outsider at best. Plus, he’s a bad professor to begin with.”
“That doesn’t mean he deserves to be hung by his toes and thumbs.” Rex said.
“You do have a vivid imagination.” He said, “Well, what if we return him to Tahl? You know, where you found him.”
“Return what to Tahl?” A voice from behind them startled the two boys so much that they nearly leapt completely out of their boots. They turned, finding none other than Professor Tahl standing in the doorway.
“Er… Homework?” Cody tried, wincing as he said it while Rex moved to stand in front of Rotta in some feeble attempt of hiding him. Though blind, she was not dumb by any measure. Unlike them, who had somehow shut themselves in her classroom when trying to hide.
“You’re not in my class, Cody,” She said suspiciously and turned her head to Rex, “And while I would be more than happy to have you next year, Rex, you aren’t either.”
“I’m not much of a singer,” Was all Rex could really think to say.
“Or a liar, for that matter,” She offered and placed her lunch down on the edge of her desk and then clasping her hands behind her back, “The question is, what is it that the two of you have taken from me?”
Debating on whether or not it was worth lying anymore, Cody’s stream of thoughts were quickly cut off when Rotta chose that moment to let out what he suspected was a hungry cry. After all, the smell of Tahl’s pot roast had likely reminded the Huttlet that he hadn’t had lunch yet.
Instantly, her face morphed from jokingly curious to a hardened severity that sent a chill up Cody’s spine. Her eyes were unfocused as always, but the faded myriad of colors within them still intensified somehow in a way he could not explain.
“What have you boys done?” She asked in a low voice.
Feeling suddenly like they’d been cornered like two caged animals, Cody backed away, placing Rex behind him instinctively. Who knew what this woman was capable of? He thought back to the chilling sight Kenobi had been privy to at the end of term and realized that she was far more threatening than she let on.
“Stay away!” Cody said as she walked slowly towards them and baby Rotta.
“Excuse me?” Her lips looked tight, like they were just barely stretching across an encompassing frown.
“We were trying to rescue the poor thing, unlike you!” Rex fired off immediately. It seemed he’d taken some notes from Skywalker in speaking before thinking, or perhaps that had come from Cody.
“What are you talking about?” She asked, reaching out to carefully pick baby Rotta up and prop him on one hip, a bit too comfortably for someone that was supposedly an accessory to kidnapping.
Then again, Cody guessed that they also fell into that category from a certain point of view.
“Get away from him!” Rex moved to shove past Cody, but he kept an ironclad grip on his brother’s shoulder, refusing to be shaken off.
“I’m really not the one who should be shouted at right now, Rex, seeing as you two were just found with a missing child,” She bounced lightly, causing Rotta to calm down a bit from his tantrum and she smiled slightly, “So, you’re the one everyone is looking for.”
“I found him crying helplessly alone in your office!” Rex cried. “Who knows what you were planning on doing to him?”
Her head shot up and her brow furrowed, “My office? When on earth was this?”
“Got other kids hiding in here somewhere?” Cody retorted smartly, knowing that the last thing he had to worry about was detention for getting mouthy with a professor. Still, he didn’t lower his wand and kept his eyes on Rotta in case she tried anything.
“The night of the Yule Ball!” Rex said. “I assumed the worst!”
“Indeed you did,” She said, raising a piece of meat up to Rotta’s wide mouth. The Huttlet happily accepted the treat and proceeded to wrap his entire gummy mouth around her fist, not wanting to miss a single morsel. “Because I hadn’t been in my office all night. And if I were to kidnap this little rascal, why would I simply leave him out in the open to be found?”
Rex and Cody both moved to open their mouths and then closed them, thinking better of it this time and slowly lowering their guards a tad. Rex seemed more reluctant to let it go, but Cody had to admit that this didn’t make sense.
“And what motive would I have anyway?” She turned Rotta towards her and wiggled a finger against his slimy belly, causing a chain reaction of gleeful burbles from the little guy. “I’ve only recently come back to the country.”
“Well, there weren’t any missing kids before you showed up,” Cody said and then caught himself, “Okay, that’s not true, but no missing Hutt babies anyway.”
“Right,” She said, “But none of this explains why you still have this baby and how you managed to keep him unseen to the public eye.”
“We didn’t want his kidnapper to get ahold of him again!” Rex said, “And we also didn’t want anyone at Hogwarts to get blamed and start a war!”
“A war?” She questioned.
“Rex overheard Ziro claiming that a war would start if anyone at Hogwarts was found responsible for Rotta’s disappearance.” Cody said with a shrug, “So, we’ve been keeping him safe until we figured out what to do.”
“Is that so… I see,” She contemplated, “And how far did you get with that?”
“Not… Very.” Cody admitted.
“Yoda and Gunray showed up outside our brother’s house thinking he took the kid,” Rex said, “So, we had to bring him inside.”
“We didn’t come up with a move after that,” Cody said, “There’s always the Shrieking Shack, I suppose.”
“Under no circumstances am I allowing you to bring this child to that death trap! You children shouldn’t even be sniffing around there!”
“Is that because of the murder that happened there?” Rex asked.
“That house was insanely unstable during my time at Hogwarts. I can only imagine how it’s deteriorated since then!” She said, clearly dodging their question.
“And how would you know in the first place that it was bad?” Cody rebuked.
“That is not what’s being considered here,” She sighed, “I truly can never get a proper lunch break, can I?”
“I mean, you could forget you ever found us,” He tried, making a slow step towards the door. Of course, she immediately slid into his way with a tenacity that he couldn’t make sense of.
“I don’t think so,” She said, “I’m just unsure if I should be rewarding you or taking away points.”
“You could do both and call it even?” Rex suggested, “So what becomes of Stinky now?”
“Stinky?” She asked.
“That’s his nickname,” He nodded, “I doubt it needs much explanation.”
They all looked towards the smelly little Hutt just as he burped and a literal cloud of green came from his mouth, filling all their noses with an abhorrent scent that would make even the foulest troll cringe.
“Yeah, definitely not going to miss that,” Cody wiped his eyes from the tears that naturally formed there, “But we do need a plan.”
“I think I’ve got one,” Tahl said finally, “But you two will need to do exactly as I say and then keep this a sworn secret.”
Cody and Rex looked at each other, both seeming to be on some common plane of understanding, and nodded at her.
“What do you need us to do?”
By the time Obi-Wan and Satine had finally been freed from their imprisonment in the small broom closet, they’d taken to sitting on the floor trading flashcards for upcoming exams.
“What’s up love birds?” Cody grinned.
However the very moment the door swung open to once again welcome natural light to their eyes, Satine bolted up and past Cody so aggressively that the wind was successfully knocked out of him.
“Move!” Was all she said on the matter and wasted no time in her retreat.
Considering the manner at which they’d been placed in this predicament, Obi-Wan could only see it as poetic justice.
“Oi, no need to run!” He called as she sprinted down the hallway before looking down to Obi-Wan suspiciously, “You two didn’t break up while I was gone, did you? Because I’ve never seen her run like that before.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” He said, accepting his friend’s hand to bring him back to his feet, taking a moment to stretch out a leg that had fallen asleep, “She just really had to pee.”
“It wasn’t that long!” He rolled his eyes.
“You were gone for well over an hour!” Obi-Wan protested, “And don’t think you can just let us out like a couple of dogs without any explanation as to what the hell that was all about?”
“You’ve never played the escape and chase game before?” Cody laughed nervously, clearly lying through his teeth much to Obi-Wan’s disdain. He knew that there was something that had been brewing in his best mate’s life for the past month or so, but his patience was growing thin with the secrets and lies that were popping up with increased frequency.
“Maybe I would have elected to buy that if you hadn’t just given me a bruised tailbone or almost caused Satine to have to pee in a bucket with me pressed against her.” He grimaced a little bit at how much of a close call that had truly been.
“I guess you’re not in that phase of your relationship yet,” Cody joked lightly and when Obi-Wan didn’t so much as give him a smile, he relented, “Look, I just need a little bit more time.”
“Why can’t you tell us?” Obi-Wan asked, “What could possibly be so scandalous?”
“It’s complicated,” He said.
“Nothing can be too complicated for your best friends.” Obi-Wan said, “I mean, look at my life’s problems. You’ve still managed to stick around after all these years.”
“We’re stubborn, what can I say?” He said with a shrug and they made a slow pace to follow where Satine had disappeared down the hall, presumably meeting up at one of their common rooms.
“So, tell me then.” He said, “Let me help.”
“That’s just it,” Cody swore suddenly, any of the ease of the conversation gone, “It’s better that you’re not tied to this.”
“Why?”
Cody opened his mouth and let it sit there, likely weighing what the correct answer to this question would be. Of course, if he truly was sworn to secrecy, admitting such a thing would actually kill him. That was the last thing Obi-Wan wanted.
“Soon,” He promised, placing a hand on his shoulder as though he was swearing to him right then and there that there was to be an end to this madness.
“How soon?”
“I’d imagine pretty soon,” He said with a laugh. “But I promise it’s not bad. Not anymore, anyway.”
“That really doesn’t comfort me the way that you think it does.” Obi-Wan shook his head, “But fine, I’ll accept that for now.”
“Thanks mate,” Cody breathed a little easier.
“I’ll accept it,” Obi-Wan threw him a purposeful look over his shoulder, “But I can’t promise the same for Satine.”
Obi-Wan found himself trying. He was trying to solve the scroll despite it getting more and more likely that it was subterfuge. He was trying to read more in case he ran across something that he’d need for his big mystery task. He was trying to follow Cody’s exercise regimen and keep up with classes AND he’d been tutoring those three kids and about 50 or so of their closest friends. He was trying. So he was running himself a bit ragged.
He’d received a letter back from the Headmaster. Yoda’s writing was flowery enough to give his own a run for its money, but even still he couldn’t make much use of any of it except as proof that he was aware of the potential problem. Obi-Wan couldn’t even bring himself to care about that around getting his grades back up and keeping track of his homework assignments and creating study guides for the NEWTs with Satine.
Speaking of Satine, it was mid afternoon which meant that she would soon be getting out of class. He had started using an empty classroom between his classes to host a DADA lesson and then he’d head outside to run around the school too many times with Cody. He’d had a good crowd today, he thought as he chased Cody, even as his friend seemed like he was getting further away. He’d gone over the theory of a patronus. It wasn’t a topic he liked much, but it was important that the fifth years learn it. He’d also started on werewolves for the younger years and he was doing his own research on the ear-shriveling curse for the older students, himself included.
He tried to pick up the pace. Cody was a notoriously fast runner and he always said if Obi-Wan could catch him they could stop before they were finished. It seemed like more wishful thinking than anything, but Obi-Wan could already feel his lungs burning and his side throbbing. The castle grounds were massive and Cody liked to go around them at least 10 times. He was determined then to catch Cody, he could use the afternoon to instead read another book on invisibility charms and maybe, if he was lucky, get to bed at a reasonable hour.
He felt his foot catch on a tree root and he found himself crashing to the ground, the wind absolutely knocked right out of him. He twisted around to his hands and knees, but found himself rather unwilling to stand up. They’d already passed this spot three times, it was likely at least a couple of miles and he was tired . He heard Cody calling for him to get back up, so he did, pushing himself back up on shaky legs.
“You okay there mate?” He hadn’t expected Cody to turn around and run back to him, but his friend was, in fact, jogging over to him, “Root got you pretty good.”
“Could we take a break?” The words spilled from his mouth before he could stop them. He’d promised Cody that whatever routine he made for him, he’d follow it. Now he found himself chickening out only a couple weeks in.
He’d really expected him to say no. To remind him why he needed this, what he was about to face.
“Sure mate,” But Cody wasn’t like that, he was kind and a loyal friend and the type of person to know when it might be time to call it quits, “You okay?” He repeated.
Obi-Wan found himself lying down in the grass staring up at the sky instead of answering. Cody frowned down at him before he joined, no further questions asked. The grass was soft, brushing against his arms. He couldn’t imagine doing this sort of thing anywhere else. At home he’d have surely gotten yelled at for crushing the fauna, even if his parents never so much as glanced at their gardens. Of course if he was at home he also wouldn’t be dressed in Cody’s spare workout clothes, dressed much farther down than he was comfortable with at this point. He wouldn’t have been allowed to simply take a break.
“And what do we have here?” Satine’s face broke into their views, eyebrows raised, hair hanging down.
“We’re taking a break,” Cody answered cheerfully and Satine eyed both of them with suspicion, but she still settled down next to Obi-Wan, her fingers threading through his automatically. She was always good at taking her opportunities when they came to her.
It was the sort of idyllic moment that he’d grown used to at a place like Hogwarts and grown envious of at a place like his home. Satine moved ever so slightly closer to him so that her head could touch his shoulder, even if it was rather impossible to lean on it while they were already lying down.
The previous semester he’d been heartbroken to think that times like this were coming to an end, but now he found himself lucky to think that this might only be the beginning of such things. He turned to watch Satine, she was much more beautiful than the clouds passing them by and her eyes shone bluer than the sky itself. It was lucky, he thought, that he’d come into his own, made the right decision.
He was scared though that he’d lose everything with one slip up in this tournament. He didn’t want to lose this, to lose any of this. He couldn’t think of a more important moment to cherish.
“What?” Satine asked him softly, her voice drifting to him like a breeze and he couldn’t resist tilting his head down to press a kiss to her hair, “Are you thinking again?” She prompted, moving to look at him better, “I think that defeats the point of a break, dear.”
“Of course not,” He lied, turning to let his cheek rest on her head.
“A moonlight picnic? You shouldn’t have.” Smirked Quinlan as he dropped down to sit across from Ventress on the blanket by the black lake. It was rather blustery out, but Ventress had fancied a pocket of hot air around the proximity of their little camp with a spell he was unfamiliar with.
“If you came expecting finger sandwiches, you’re sadly mistaken,” She retorted with a scoff that sounded less and less annoyed by the day. If Quinlan didn’t know any better, he’d say she was getting used to him.
“Hey, I’m from Durmstrang,” He reminded her, “And you’d be happy to know that when we say finger sandwiches, there are actual fingers in them.”
He believed he’d gotten a laugh from her, but between the wind and the cough she used to cover it, there was no proof of the matter. He’d still convince himself of this, though. That’s all that mattered.
“You’re here because I wanted you to analyze an artifact.” She said, “Again.”
“An artifact related to the Nightsisters?” He asked, hoping to find a genuine connection with them this time. Last time, the trinkets she’d brought turned out to be nothing but duplicates of something that might have been a treasured heirloom to the nightsisters. He knew it meant a lot to her figuring out where they were.
“Who else?” She asked.
“Just once, I’d like someone to bring me a map to the lost city of Atlantis,” He joked, though that would be an interesting find.
“Unless the Nightsisters of Dathomir took a liking to swimming, I have strong doubts this will take you there,” She said, “Or anywhere quite so refreshing.”
“You’re really making me want to do this more and more,” He said, though he was silenced when she kissed him, a bit softer than usual. For some reason, that winded him more than the spicier entanglements they found themselves in. Still, he didn’t dare comment on it and silently hoped that the late night would shroud his flushed face.
“So, uh, you were saying?” He cleared his throat this time as he patiently waited for her to retrieve the various items from the picnic basket to her left. Sure enough, there wasn’t any food inside, but a large wooden bow. “Where did you get this?”
“I found it in Dooku’s office after he left,” She said, “Before the Aurors had a chance of getting their hands on it.”
“Your hands are quick,” He said.
“And don’t you forget it,” She replied, “Now come on, pretty boy, I’m not paying you to bask in the moonlight.”
“You’re not paying me at all.”
“Aren’t I?” She raised an eyebrow at him and they stared at each other for long enough for Quinlan’s face to feel hot again.
“I prefer to think of our situation as mutually beneficial.” He said.
“Exactly, so benefit me,” She nodded towards the bow and he rolled his eyes. He could have named a number of times thus far that he already had, but decided against it, since this clearly wouldn’t yield to anything quite so fun.
“You know that isn’t what I meant,” He said, but picked it up all the same.
As he wrapped his fingers around the grip, he felt reality shift around him and in that moment, the prints on his fingers merged with the last person who wielded the weapon. They were one and the same as he looked down the notch and towards the tip of the arrowhead. At its end was a pair of eyes that matched the blank and starless night sky, belonging to a long and pointed face that was turned up in a snarl.
He did not know by experience what those eyes had done to deserve such a position, but the panging in his heart spoke of ache and loss.
He pulled back the string until it was taught and the life of this man lingered in the balance of his control. There was no whimper, no begging, no plea. It was as though this was what was supposed to happen to the man and that it wouldn’t erase any of the damage he’d caused.
Smoke collected on the ground and the smell of scorched wood permeated through his nostrils, though there was no fire in sight. Just the sense that one had been burning and it had either been a blaze of glory or calamity. Judging by the sudden sense of loneliness that overcame him, Quinlan could deduce which it had been.
Around them, there were others fighting, mostly shadows of humans and none were discernible to Quinlan as anything beyond faceless menaces. Those fighting him matched the physique of Ventress in everything short of how they dressed. These women donned clothes of fiery red, blazing a trail behind them in their wake and every weapon they swung had a green glow to its tip.
But they didn’t swing with the formidable strength of defeating one’s foe. They swung clumsily, like this was a final stand, like there wasn’t much left in them.
They fought like warriors who knew they were to die.
And there were so many all around him. He hadn’t noticed before at first glance, but as he moved his foot, there was a lifeless form of a girl no older than himself. Just inches away from her was a bow of her own that had splintered in two.
He looked back to his own foe, who with the passing of time looked somehow less convinced that he was to die.
The string snapped and Quinlan released the tail of the arrow for its short descent, turning as the body hit the ground. It was a small price and it didn’t make up for the screams and the cries that suddenly flooded his ears.
It did not save him as a man with a long beard, tailed by three large Gamorean Guards charged at him. A crest on the nobleman’s chest glittered in the reflection of a spell Quinlan flubbed without the benefit of a wand. He wasn’t sure what had happened to it, as there was a holster for it strapped to his thigh, but suspected that it was broken behind him, like everything else.
But the crest was something he’d never seen before and though the man wasn’t recognized by him or the memory he inhabited, the cold hate that poured from him was evident beyond the violent transgressions at play.
Words like feral , abomination, inbred were tossed around hypocritically, but it was not the words that hurt, but their intentions.
Wands drawn and green flickers of electricity pouring from the tips, everything from there happened in slow motion. He didn’t get to breathe again before the bow was knocked from his hands and he was sent flying backwards to gaze up at the night sky, not getting to see another Nightsister until Asajj Ventress came into view, hovering over him.
Stars, one by one, twinkled once again and he could no longer smell the acrid sense of smoke. Instead, whatever perfume Ventress usually opted for filled his nose. It was likely an old fashion blend, as she’d grown up enjoying only the finest things. It suited her somehow, since she was a relic in her own right.
“What happened? What did you see?” She asked, dropping any facade of indifference or carelessness, which was a rarity in its own right.
Quinlan’s head always spun after such trips, especially when his psychometry took him to a physical place rather than just the mental thoughts of the last user. He usually had to give it some thought to channel it, as he’d learned to control it over the years, but pungent memories were always stronger and often demanded attention.
Despite her eagerness, she did give him a minute to sit up and rub a hand over his eyes as he fought off a headache. She’d even had a bottle of water for him tucked away in that picnic basket, suggesting that maybe she had intended for this meeting to be more than just business.
“I saw… The massacre,” He said, after a moment of pondering how to tell her. He’d landed on being straightforward, as she would despise the idea of being coddled, especially from the truth.
“That was the last time this was used?” She asked in a voice caught between sorrow and awe. She ran a finger along the belly of the bow, her manicured nail outlining the entire thing with reverence.
“Yes,” He said, “I’m unsure how Dooku got his hands on it, but it can’t be good.”
“Did you see who did it?” She swallowed, looking up at him, eyes clear and demanding answers.
“I did,” He confirmed, “Though I’m unsure exactly who he was.”
“Well, what did he look like?” She asked, tucking her legs beneath her. She pulled out some parchment and a quill, clearly ready to sketch out a description of the man that Quinlan strongly believed to be a prominent ring leader in their demise.
“He was a nobleman of some sort,” He said, thinking back, “Though I must say, beyond the crest he wore on his robes, there was hardly anything distinct about him. He was tall, white, bearded. He was followed by Gamorean Guards-”
“-What crest?” She asked.
“I don’t know which house it would belong to, I’m unfamiliar with the historic UK houses.”
“But you believe it was a UK house,” Ventress confirmed.
“Well, that’s tough, since I’m unsure if they even went as the UK back then.” He reasoned, but here, I’ll draw it for you.
Placated by this, Ventress watched from over his shoulder as he drew the symbol that had been proudly worn into battle. It seemed to be two very ornate S’s facing one another- one inverted and both swiveling out to look like ribbon. Two small arcs cut through them and drifted off into squiggles at the bottom. It didn’t look like anything fancy or meaningful, but Quinlan knew very little about such things.
After taking a moment to eye up the crest, Ventress frowned, “Are you certain this is what you saw?”
“I am,” He said, “It was the only thing to look at that wasn’t completely depressing.”
She thought on this for a while before he dared to ask what she was thinking. He was surprised she didn’t lash out or glare at him for interrupting. Instead, she shrugged.
“It’s a dead symbol,” She said.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning, it isn’t used anymore because the family died off,” She said, “Which is essentially the worst fear of any pureblood.”
“What family was it linked to?” He asked.
“I’m not sure,” She said, “But it’s in a compilation of dead symbols I grew up having to study. They’re often branded as “historic” from those who do not know when to call it quits. It is certainly never the goal to be the cause of your family’s crest ending up in there.”
“So, the people who brought this upon your sisters are dead?” He asked hopefully, even if he knew that wouldn’t make Ventress feel any better. He just hoped that seeing that would cause her to redirect her efforts.
“That appears to be the case,” She said, though the lilt in her voice said otherwise. She wasn’t believing this, not completely. It wasn’t Quinlan, per say, but there were pieces he wasn’t privy to shifting around in her head.
“Something tells me you aren’t going to rest until you figure out what family it belonged to,” He said.
“No,” She said and then stood up, offering him a hand to his feet too. “Are you in?”
“I don’t recall ever being out,” He said, accepting her help.
“Well, that was a major waste of time,” Satine said plainly as she and Obi-Wan returned from the hospital wing. He gave her a sidelong glance, full of “I told you so’s” written all over his features. She rolled her eyes when she caught sight of his prolonged demeanor.
“Well, we had to try.” She reiterated for the fourth time since they’d started this expedition, even as Obi-Wan gagged and nearly vomited. For safety purposes, they visited Madame Nema to ensure that he wasn’t going to endure mercury poisoning or dysentery.
“I understand you’re worried about sabotage, but drinking fountain water seemed like a strange approach to take in finding that solution.” He said.
“Hey, it did work at discovering the truth.” She pointed out, poking him in the shoulder, “You said it was a myth!”
“It was basically a low grade truth serum,” He huffed, “The dose Hondo gave me earlier in the year was much stronger. At least that tasted like orange tea. That fountain water tastes like dirty metal.”
“You’re just miffed that the hospital wing now knows you iron press your underwear.”
“Need you keep repeating that tidbit?” He asked, ears turning bright red.
“What? It doesn’t bother me.” She said with a shrug, “I expect such idiosyncrasies from you now.”
“That’s a very flowery way of saying you think I’m weird,” He argued.
“Fine, would you like to know something embarrassing about me to call it even?”
“I think I would.” He said, sticking his nose up in a stuffy manner that Satine could not help but find incredibly cute, “And it must be of equal caliber. None of that “I used to suck my thumb” nonsense.”
“That was Cody and it wasn’t his thumbs it was his whole fist,” She reminded him, still finding such an image impossible. How didn’t he choke or suffocate? It was a mystery she would never know nor care to find out, “Okay let’s see…”
She’d taken a long enough pause for him to release a breath through his nose in frustration and she glared at him.
“I’m sorry I don’t have such things readily available. I suppose I’m just less embarrassing than you are.”
“I feel as though Cody or your sister might have something else to say on that matter,” He replied smartly, “Even if yes, I do concede that I might have a few more quirks.”
“Oh! Got it!” She snapped her fingers and then looked both ways before telling him, “I still sleep with the same teddy bear I’ve had since I was a baby.”
“That’s not embarrassing, that’s cute,” He said, eyes softening at the thought.
“Well, I did marry that bear when I was three,” She informed him, “So you’ve got competition, bud.”
He chuckled at that, raising an eyebrow at her, “Need I have a talk with this Mr. Bear? Or am I to compete for your heart?”
“A duel might be necessary,” She bantered, their hands brushing together as they walked and continued to parry back and forth. If she weren’t so set on continuing on to bed, they could hang around the halls forever and find all sorts of things to bicker about. It sounded quite lovely actually.
“That’s hardly a fair match,” He said, “I’d imagine the fluff inside gives him some padding.”
“I dunno, my mum has patched him many times.” She smirked, “Those seams are not strong.”
“I cannot in good conscience fight a man of limited mobility, Satine. My honor speaks too highly of that.”
“You are too good, aren’t you?” She said, “I suppose-”
But her next rebuke was cut off by the familiar sound of harsh whispers followed by the smacking of lips and the click of a closet door being shut behind them. She and Obi-Wan immediately shifted into prefect mode as they made eye contact with one another and quietly crept around the corner, away from their initial destination.
Splitting off and approaching from opposite sides along the wall in a coordinated attempt that they’d perfected over the years, they nodded at one another before dramatically swinging the door open to reveal a half undressed Quinlan Vos (though there was nothing really unusual about that) and Ventress . She’d hardly stuck around though, having disappeared through a secret tunnel before anyone could hardly get a look at her.
However, Satine would know those claws anywhere after having been within their clutches in such a painstakingly horrifying moment in time. Obi-Wan drew the same conclusions, of course, having been forced to spend so much time with her.
As Quinlan took a side step in that direction, Obi-Wan gained the sense to draw his wand.
“Don’t!” Was all he said, though he didn’t sound as pointed as he normally would about busting a frisky couple at this hour. Instead, he seemed as gobsmacked as she felt.
Quinlan and Ventress? Snogging in a closet?
Nothing about that statement seemed to make the least bit of sense. After all, Quinlan was a decent guy from what she could tell. He was warm and funny, but most of all not the epitome of pure evil. What the hell did he see in Ventress? Though his eyes were bugged out, neither looked as shocked to see them as Obi-Wan and Satine were to see him.
“You two look like you’ve seen a rancor,” He said. “And believe me, I’ve seen them. They’re just as horrifying in person to look at.”
“Oh no, I can assure you this is much much worse than that,” Obi-Wan responded coolly, stepping aside so Quinlan could step out into the hallway to walk with them. He didn’t put his shirt back on, though Satine wished that he would. She could see indents from Ventress’ nails in his shoulder blades and cringed at the thought.
“It’s nothing serious,” He assured him, “Though I’m not sure you can really get jealous given your engagement is obviously a scam.”
“I am not jealous!” Obi-Wan almost threw up for the second time that day at that insinuation.
“We just did not expect Ventress to be your type,” Satine said, “Considering her track record and your own nobility.”
“Two hot people can’t hook up without getting politics involved?” Though Satine, who would have rather accepted that this was all just physical, could hear how plastered together that sounded. Quinlan could have almost any person in the school based on his little following of fans and he chose Ventress to fool around with?
“I don’t know what she’s holding over you, Quinlan, but I can help if you need it,” Obi-Wan said, “I’ve read a number of books on Wizengamot and I am well versed in loopholes that can assist in a quick and fairly safe escape.”
“I appreciate it, mate, but I’m good where I am,” He smiled, clapping a hand on his shoulder a bit too hard from what Satine could tell, not that Quinlan appeared to have that intention, “It’s all fun and games.”
“Nothing is fun and games with Ventress,” She said, “She’s always got an angle.”
“The only angle I’ve seen are all the amazing angles she bends-”
“-Quite enough of that, thank you!” Both waved their hands out, not wanting to know a single shred of the dirty details of what they did in their spare time.
“If you say so,” He winked.
“When did this monstrosity begin?” Obi-Wan asked, “The ball?”
“She kinda swore me to secrecy on the matter, so I’ll let you connect the dots,” He said, “But let’s just say we definitely swapped dance partners that night, huh? Can’t say I’m disappointed by the outcome.”
Feeling like she should be insulted by that but unable to move past her own disgust, Satine shook her head, “I feel as though I should remind you that she’s literally turned people to stone. And was a part of an occult.”
“And likely still plans on holding marriage over my head and killing me down the line,” Obi-Wan said easily (far too easily for Satine’s comfort).
“She’s done some really terrible things, I know,” He said, “But I’m trying to help her. I think… I think there’s a good person in there somewhere.”
“Probably trapped against their will,” Satine deadpanned.
“Just be careful,” Obi-Wan advised him sagely, “As Satine said, there is usually an ulterior motive to everything Ventress does.”
Even if she was romantically interested in Quinlan, Satine couldn’t see Ventress ignoring the potential of utilizing that to her advantage.
“I’m a big boy, Kenobi,” He reminded him with the flex of his biceps. Satine resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I’ll manage.”
“If you say so,” He cringed.
“And do me a favor?” He asked, “Don’t tell anyone about this.”
“For your sake or hers?” Satine asked, though she wasn’t given an answer. There was a sad sort of look in Quinlan’s eyes, if only for a moment, as he walked away. Neither had even realized they never doled out a punishment. Maybe everyone was punished enough for the awkwardness.
Well, not Ventress. Satine wasn’t sure she’d even made up for her more horrid transgressions.
“Ventress is going to rip his heart out,” Obi-Wan sighed sadly.
“Literally or emotionally?” She asked.
“Both, probably,” He tsked, “I liked Quinlan too.”
“What would you get for your new girlfriend for Valentine’s Day, Cody?” Caleb asked thoughtfully as the two boys suited up for a spontaneous toss of the quaffle outside. It was blustery and unpleasant, but Caleb was willing to risk a chill for some much needed advice. Besides, he could really use some catching practice if he stood a shot at making Captain next year.
“Hm, that’s a good question,” Cody said, “Well, you really can’t go wrong with a new set of quidditch gloves. They look good on everyone!”
“Is that what Hera would want or is that what you would want?” He asked.
“Why do those things need to be mutually exclusive?” Cody retorted, “She loves quidditch, I love quidditch. One in the same.”
Caleb shivered and not because of the sudden influx of coldness that filled his lungs once they stepped outside. He really didn’t like the image of comparing Hera to Cody and figured she wouldn’t like that much either.
“Er… I was thinking of something a bit more romantic?” He said as he tossed the quaffle towards Cody.
“Get them engraved with a heart, I dunno, mate,” He said, “You kind of outdid yourself early on with that kalikori charm.”
“I know,” He bit his lip, “Fenn says I should have saved that one for later.”
Cody shrugged, “I mean, it sealed the deal, didn’t it?”
“It did,” Caleb smiled brightly, as he did whenever he thought of Hera, “But I want to do something nice for her. I mean, this sort of thing is a big deal to girls, isn’t it?”
“I have no idea what Kenobi and Kryze have planned and they’re pretty much my threshold of romantic information at the moment,” He said, “Vos would probably be a better person to ask. He’s got all those ladies following him around.”
“He nevers closes the deal on any of them, though!” Caleb said, “And Kenobi is probably going to write some old timey poem or something far too beyond my intellect.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t put it past him,” Cody said, “He has been a bit too busy with the task though.”
“Hera too,” Caleb agreed, “She could use the day to relax.”
“So give her that!”
“Huh?”
“Do something relaxing with her,” Cody said and then grimaced, “Something appropriate, that is. I don’t need any prefects barking at me for encouraging illicit activities.”
“Yeah, you’ve never broken the rules.” He rolled his eyes.
“In the name of quidditch or friendship or family or getting the first slice of pie, it’s worth it.”
“So, what do you suggest I do?” Caleb asked, “They don’t exactly have spas in Hogsmeade.”
“No, but you’re onto something with that,” Cody said, “I could always go for an ice bath after a match.”
“You said that tea place was romantic, right?” Caleb shrugged, “Maybe I’ll take her there.”
“Yeah! All the couples go there,” He said, “Kenobi and Kryze took me before. Well, I sort of just showed up, but that’s how it usually is.”
“She’d probably like the change of pace.” He said, “the chance to dress all nice and actually go on a proper date for a change. There’s only so many places you can picnic, you know?”
“Especially when you can’t cook,” Cody said sagely.
“His sandwiches weren’t that bad,” A smooth and alluring voice called from above. Sure enough, much to their ignorance, Hera had been floating above them. Judging by the smirk on her face, likely for most of their conversation.
“So uh, how much of that did you hear?” Caleb asked.
“Everything from the part where Cody told you we were one in the same,” She wrinkled her nose, but her smile retained, “And of course about our Valentine’s Day plans.”
“Is that okay with you?” He asked.
“Any time spent with you is more than okay,” She assured him, “Though I will be honest, I hate tea.”
“Oh! Well, they also have sweets and-”
“-I could go for a warm butterbeer though,” She winked at him, “I’ll race you for it. Loser pays.”
“I don’t have my broom on me,” He reasoned.
“Then you better run fast, Dume,” She darted off into the distance and all Caleb could do was just watch her gracefully cut through the air, her lekku billowing in the wind behind her. He was only startled from his reverie by the sensation of a quaffle smacking him in the side of the face.
“Hey!” He complained before chucking it back at Cody, who laughed heartily.
“Haven’t I taught you anything about paying attention?” He asked.
“So uh, doing anything for Valentine’s Day?” Rush Clovis asked casually while Padmé hurried through the common room, stopped only by the older boy suddenly standing up and in her way. Whether or not this was intentional was ambiguous, but she couldn’t help but slide around him.
“Actually, yes,” She said excitedly, “I’m selling the secret roses this year!”
“Oh? Any buyers?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck.
“A ton!” She beamed, “You should get one for someone!”
She rushed out the door and down the stairs before swinging open the fat lady portrait rather aggressively. She didn’t mean to be in such haste, but she’d overslept and was now running late to helping Sabé sell the flowers.
Such tardiness was only prolonged when she witnessed Pong Krell and his band of goonies egging on some poor Beauxbatons girl to give him a kiss for Valentine’s Day. Of course, Padmé could not think of anything more abhorrent, but even if that weren’t the case, the girl obviously seemed uncomfortable by his advances.
“Hey now, give me something to remember this year by?” Krell crooned as he leaned on the wall next to her.
“Not now, thanks,” The girl shook her head, though Krell wouldn’t move from her way.
“I’m gonna close my eyes and count to three,” He said in a low voice that made Padmé’s skin crawl.
Padmé, looking around for the nearest office of which to grab a professor from, didn’t even have the chance before a whirl of robes moved past and around her and towards the scene, prefect button glinting in the sunlight.
He must have followed her in her hasty retreat, because none other than Rush Clovis waltzed his way over to the besalisk, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“That’s quite enough, Krell,” He said firmly, “Clearly this young lady is not interested.”
“You’re not the boss of me, Clovis,” Spat Krell.
“I’m not, but I have plenty of friends from Durmstrang who most definitely are,” He said, stepping aside to showcase one of these aforementioned friends, “And they will be doling out a punishment of some nature.”
Twisting his face into an even more sour expression, Krell grew bright red, “Who do you think you are walking around here like some sort of authority? Just because Daddy has all that money?”
“And what of your wealth? What are you doing with it?” Clovis asked, “Aside from harassing young girls, that is.”
“I- Listen here, pretty boy!”
“Don’t flounder for grounding, it’s beneath you,” Clovis rolled his eyes, “Well, maybe it isn’t,” and turned, nodding at his compatriots from Durmstrang to deal with Krell and to humbly apologize for the girl. He rejoined Padmé and now Rex, who she hadn’t even noticed up until now as he stared, teaming with anger in Krell’s direction.
“You handled that well,” She admitted. She’d never talked much to Clovis, especially not since she’d kindly turned him down for the Yule Ball. He’d accepted it well enough, and she wasn’t even certain he was seriously asking.
“It’s why we do what we do,” He sighed heavily, and her heartbeat quickened at the thought of being included in that “we”, of being a prefect next year, “We can’t stoop to their level.”
He cast a careful look to Rex, who seemed to deeply disagree, and patted him on the back, “Hey now, it’s over.”
“No it isn’t.” Rex shook his head, “It’s never over until they sack Krell completely from the building.”
“I’m not even sure why he was allowed to come,” Padmé said.
“He is a dreadful representation to an otherwise upstanding school,” Clovis agreed, which was another point Rex appeared distasteful for. The younger student didn’t say anything, just tucked his thoughts away for himself.
“What a way to kick off Valentine’s Day, hm?” She nudged Rex in hopes of loosening him up. This was not going to be the case, it would seem.
Satine Kryze never fancied herself someone that gave much of a damn about commercial holidays such as Valentine’s Day. She wasn’t in the camp of contempt, because who was she to stop someone from expressing their affections for someone else? It just never really mattered in the grand scheme of things. It was very obviously a ploy by industries to suck poor blokes into spending their money, but it did no harm and she couldn’t begrudge anyone for giving into the festivities.
She’d told her own boyfriend not to worry about it, which was returned with that look Obi-Wan always gave approximately seconds before he was about to worry over something. Apparently, it did stick, because here they were, sitting at their usual table in the library up to their noses in various books that would hopefully assist with the next Triwizard task.
They were together, which was all she truly cared about on the matter and she knew where his affections lay. Besides, the practical side of her understood that the second task was only 10 days away and they still hadn’t figured out a solution that could get Obi-Wan out alive, which was her main priority.
On top of all that, this was notoriously the busiest day of the year for all prefects, as many students took the liberty of sneaking off to spend special alone time together. Satine, herself, caught two seventh years going at it like rabbits her very first year as prefect. It had been an awkward affair altogether but was promptly reported regardless.
That wasn’t mentioning the image of Quinlan and Ventress, which couldn’t seem to get unstuck from her head.
Gross.
Their mere existence in the library, which was a common place for sneaky couples, deterred many, but not all. Without even looking up from his textbook, Obi-Wan flicked his wand to reveal a couple that procured an off-brand cloak of invisibility and were trying to make their way to the restricted section.
Many had made the incorrect assumption that either of them were going to ease up in their positions because they were now an item. If anything, they became a more formidable force.
“I don’t think you want to do that.” He said with a bored sigh.
The blushing couple, on the other hand, looked terrified to have been caught, and quickly scurried away.
“I think we have Charms with the girl.” Satine commented. “No wonder she botched the last test. That cloak was dreadful.”
Obi-Wan smirked. “Not everyone can be as charming as you.”
She groaned. “Oh, that was pitiful, even for you.”
“Even for me?” He closed his textbook in mock outrage, even if the fact that he’d placed a bookmark prior might have taken away from some of the emphasis. “I’d saved that one for the perfect moment.”
“Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘flattery will get you nowhere’, my dear?”
“Sure, but it got me you.” He quirked an eyebrow. “And I’d hardly call that nowhere.”
“Yes, you flattered me and then boom! 7 years later, I was yours.”
“I was playing the long-game.” He scratched the back of his neck.
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile that was fighting its way across her face and didn’t really bother trying. The warm look that was returned to her made it worth it.
She enjoyed the sight of him under the flickering lighting fixture above them for another moment before reaching out and squeezing his hand.
“Yes, well, we aren’t going to be able to continue the long-game if we don’t figure out a way to save your behind from being scorched.”
“Hm,” He said thoughtfully, “I do prefer it un-scorched.”
“As do I.” She smiled before they resumed their studies.
This went on for a few more hours before Satine felt like she was starting to see double. Judging by the disarray of Obi-Wan’s always-pristine hair, he was going through the same struggle. He checked his watch again, which wouldn’t have been odd save for the fact that it was a Saturday and neither were supposed to have any other commitments for the evening.
“What are you reading?” She asked for the millionth time that day.
This time, it seemed to shake him ever-so-slightly, but she guessed that he was also becoming jittery from the pile of useless factoids they’d mentally ingested.
“We’ve missed dinner.” He said instead while looking at his watch.
“What time is it?” She asked, basically nonplussed by his reveal. She had enough supplies back at her dorm for the two of them when they returned to the common room. She knew he knew that too, because they’d always shared with one another in this way. They both had the tendency to miss dinner due to educational obligations or extracurriculars, so they had to stay fed somehow.
“8:15.” He said.
“We missed it by a longshot.” She sighed. “And for what? Nothing definitive.”
“That’s not true. We know where not to look now.” He said and stood up. “C’mon, I would say results be damned, we’ve earned ourselves a snack.”
She accepted the hand extended to her by interlocking their fingers and let herself be led out of the library. On their way out, they managed to stop Hondo Onaka, who was suggestively groping his new girlfriend, a zabrak named Sugi, who was positioned on a table.
“Does no one admire discretion anymore?” Satine asked as they finally left after properly chastising the couple.
“He is aware that being in the physical romance section of the library does not a romantic setting make, right?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Yes, more should be like us and adhere to the true romance of silently reading across from one another for prolonged periods of time while ruining everyone else’s filthy fun.”
“Hondo claims to be a virgin.” He pointed out.
“Sure, but I don’t believe he’s trying to claim that for much longer.” She retorted. “Not by where his hands were traveling.”
They swung their joined hands as they walked through the castle, a freeing buoyancy between them that made it so Satine could almost pretend that his life wasn’t about to be on the line again in under two weeks’ time. There was hardly anyone walking around. Some younger students made careful eyes at them as they walked by whether in curiosity or hesitance at being caught for something they weren’t supposed to do. It was not lost on Satine that their relationship status garnered some attention, but she truly didn’t mind. They didn’t give them much to see after all.
“I distinctly remember you telling me not to do anything for Valentine’s Day, Miss.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Are you going off and becoming a romantic on me?”
“I’ve got zero qualms with romance, thank you very much.” She said, “I merely think we have more important things to do and worry about than heart shaped chocolates or roses.”
“You have a point.” He said and kept his gaze ahead. “There’s the Triwizard tournament and mine and Anakin’s mere existence by default.”
“As well as the clear sabotage that took place to get you both into the competition.” She added.
“Can’t forget the shark.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.”
“Not to mention, there’s always the fun little nugget of familial tension.” He said.
She squeezed his hand at that, to which he returned the gesture kindly. It was a burden he’d been bearing for longer than she could even see. She always knew he tried very hard not to disappoint them, but had a tough time understanding why when they seemed so awful. Now, it was clearly emotional manipulation at its finest- no spell required- and in spite of all that, he still remained a truly remarkable and kind person.
Seeing as he freely swung their hands between them, it was quite obvious what he thought of their opinions now. They didn’t know yet, but now that she didn’t have the fear of them holding him captive, they could play it by ear.
“And NEWTS.” She cut into her own busy thoughts on the matter.
He groaned. “I hadn’t even considered those in my list of difficulties.”
“You’ve almost popped your head open studying for them and you’ve already forgotten?” She shook her head, “I might need to have you checked for a fever.”
“I’m going to be gray by the end of this year, I swear of it.” He sighed. “You’ll age regally, but I’ll surely look like an old hermit before my 18 th birthday. At least I’ll be able to grow a beard.”
“Unlikely.” She chuckled and pulled them to a stop. “As much as I’m enjoying this stroll, the tower is that way, Mr. Head Boy.”
“Not that I don’t appreciate the directions, Mrs. Head Girl, but I’m fully aware. I just need to make a quick stop. I think I left one of my books in a classroom.”
“And you need me to escort you because?”
“It’s dark!” He jested dramatically.
She laughed and let herself be pulled in the direction towards whatever room Obi-Wan left his textbook. She didn’t really need a reason to continue with him, because if she was more honest, she’d go anywhere with him. However, if she did require one, the smile on his face as he pulled her through the halls was enough.
She hardly paid attention where he was leading her, but she noticed tension return to his form as they got closer to their destination. The shadows of the night obscured a good bit of his profile, so she couldn’t see what expression he wore, but she could tell by the silence they fell into that he was nervous about something.
“Are you afraid someone took your book?” She asked. “You write your name on everything, Ben. I’m sure it won’t be a big ordeal.”
“Hm? Oh, no. I just… No, I know where it is.” He said. “Just got a little lost in thought is all.”
That had always been the case with him, and it was something that truly used to aggravate her when they first became friends. She was a talker and liked to express the thoughts that overwhelmed her while he was taught to shove his feelings into a dark crevice at the center of his core. She hoped to one day be the kind of comfort that could bring out some of those forlorn thoughts.
Still, she was never a fan of being kept in the dark.
“What class is this for again?”
“Oh, it’s an elective credit.” He tried, but failed at sounding convincing.
“Which one?”
“The kind where keeping track of one’s textbook is very important.”
He was slipping and desperately trying to move them faster in the direction he needed to take them. He looked around them as though he were breaking her out of Hogwarts and still seemed unsure that stragglers weren’t watching.
She furrowed her brow as he took her up a familiar set of stairs. She stopped halfway up much to Obi-Wan’s obvious exasperation.
“We haven’t taken astronomy in years, what’s really going on?” She crossed her arms. “Does this have to do with the Triwizard tournament?”
“No, it’s…” He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s in relation to dinner, actually.”
“Dinner?” She asked and moved past him up the winding steps to reveal the surface of the tower, which was presently illuminated by a myriad of twinkling stars that covered the entire expanse of the night sky. The moon was nearly full and cast its harmonious white glow to the balcony that overlooked the black lake. On the balcony, rested a picnic blanket with a corresponding basket at the center.
“ Oh .” She said softly, letting her lips linger in the ‘o’ position for a second before drifting forward to the meticulously planted picnic. When she stepped onto the balcony, she activated some kind of charm that played a soft ambient melody that provided a proper backdrop to the scene.
She turned to look at Obi-Wan, who lingered not far behind and leaned against the archway. She’d caught him admiring her, which made the back of her thankful for the contrast of the night to hide the burgeoning heat that was surely finding its way to her cheeks and neck.
“How did I fall for something like this not once, but twice within a calendar year?” She chuckled silently. “At least I’m not drenched this time.”
His smile brightened as he could officially tell that she enjoyed the surprise. “To be fair, you were essentially dragged kicking and screaming both times.”
“I don’t scream.” She countered weakly, but was still vastly overcome by the beauty of this moment that she didn’t care much for snarking. “But I thought I told you not to worry about Valentine’s Day.”
“You did.” He said and took a step towards her as though it was an act of gravitational pull, eventually taking her hands in his and letting them hang at their sides. “Because you said we have more important things to do or worry about.”
She winced. “My lack of decorum aside, we do have some pressing life matters at large right now.”
“We do.” He nodded. “But none of that takes away from the fact that you are also important to me.”
She wanted to go back in time and rewrite her previous statement and curve it with a softer tone so she didn’t have to hear the accidental harshness of her words. “I didn’t mean to insinuate-”
“-I know.” He said gently without a hint of malice or hurt in his voice. “You show me every day how important I am to you. You have worked tirelessly in trying to help me get my life sorted out with this Triwizard tournament and are always in my corner. You’re always at my Quidditch matches even if you hate the sport… And you’ve been helping me lose my mind a little less over the future. You deserve to know how much I value you and appreciate you and…”
A heavy pause fell over them, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable, just teetering on the edge of inevitable.
She moved so she was right up against him and wrapped her arms around his neck- the moon illuminating their profiles and highlighting the bright look of earnest warmth in his dark blue eyes. She felt content in his arms despite the way the wind whipped around them. Being in such close contact seemed to embolden him, because he bent down to gently brush his nose against hers.
“This is the first place we ever got on properly.” She said.
His smile told her she was correct in guessing the significance of this place beyond its vast beauty and she could feel his warm breath mingle with her own.
“That was the first time I ever made you smile.” He said.
“Your tie was on backwards.” She said breathlessly, heart feeling impossibly full. “I thought it was cute.”
He nodded against her. “And we went to eat lunch outside by the lake with Cody. You’d snagged peanut butter sandwiches for all of us. Always thinking ahead, even then.”
“If I open that picnic basket, is that what I’ll find?”
He grinned and it took an immeasurable amount of self control not to kiss it right off his face. “In part because of romance and also because it’s all I can make without a wand.”
“Luckily for you, I still think you’re cute.” She said before sneaking a hand under the knot in his tie and pulling him the short distance closer to eliminate any space between them.
They were shattering the very rules they just enforced a mere minutes before, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. Despite the chill of the evening, she was warmed by the golden glow of their embrace. She could understand how people got wrapped up in their own indiscretions as she deepened the kiss and reveled in the way his hands gently tightened their grip on her waist. He still remained in the very cautious zone of her middle back, but her heart rate still seemed to accelerate.
Had she possessed the presence of thought to think on it, their earlier crackdown on other couples might have felt hypocritical considering the usually conservative couple was presently full-fledged snogging on a picnic blanket in the astronomy tower.
Of all things, it was the rumble of Obi-Wan’s stomach that broke the moment and regardless of the pounding in her ears or the shortness of breath that relayed through her chest, she laughed heartily. It was even more comical when she considered how utterly disheveled he looked in the moment and how delighted she was to see such a thing.
“Well, then, I guess we ought to find out if your peanut butter sandwiches are as good as mine were.” She said and scooted so she was right up against him. He took the hint and placed his arm around her shoulders.
“I warn you…” His face was still adorably flushed as he attempted his own composure. “I have burnt water before, but I can explain to you what some of the stars mean.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I would love that.”
They’d walked together in a row- shoulders stiff and gazes turned forward, but distractingly quiet while they made their trek down to the arena that had been magically conjured overnight. Even from a distance, it was obvious how maddenly stuffed it was with an eager audience. There were three sides covered in bleachers- one for each school but only one was visible from their eclipsed point of view: Hogwarts. Or more importantly, the clear division down the middle between red and blue streamers.
“We’ll sit where the two houses meet in the middle again.” Cody said firmly. “This way there’s no question that we’re here for both of you.”
Obi-Wan hadn’t been around much to see the backlash that Cody evidently received for supporting him in the first task, but guilt still found its space in his chest despite how busy he was contemplating his next steps.
“Sounds like a plan.” Was all he said, because Cody didn’t accept apologies for such things.
As they drew closer, they could make out the triumphant ceremonial horns that blared jovial music that given the theme of the task, Obi-Wan questioned their appropriateness. Were they not all about to bear the weight of near death yet again? He guessed the maestros had to inspire some levity in this tournament.
Even though he was even warier of elements of subterfuge than before, he felt lighter than he had during the first task.
Unlike before the first task, his parents didn’t urge him to arrive ridiculously early or even desire to arrive with him at all- instead opting to formally escort Anakin to the arena and publicly show their endorsement for him. He had no doubts that they ate it up, doting on how the Kenobis took in the stray boy and threw away any “familial prejudice” to support him.
What they didn’t know was that the Kenobis were far too ashamed of how piss-poor their son had done in the first task to want to show face with him again. Ventress did make a weak attempt of goading him into going with her for the publicity, but he simply had to politely decline for her to opt for trailing Vos instead.
From a secure distance, that was. Heaven forbid the press get wind of such an affair. They would be much harsher to Ventress than Obi-Wan. Historically, it was always worse for the female adulterers in the news.
The air was crisp and smelled of fresh rainfall, making it wise for them to stick to the stone path that led through the field as opposed to the dewey grass. A large bird swooped over the gray clouds in the distance, exalting its freedom and its might. Obi-Wan wondered, not for the first time, what that must feel like.
He felt Satine slip her hand into his, wordlessly interlocking their fingers. She was afraid for him- she’d said as much- and it wasn’t to any comfort that they all agreed that someone wanted his head on a stick. Even with that in mind, he still felt the overwhelming desire to assure her that it was going to be okay- regardless of this possibly being far from true.
Cody, while he may have shown it less blatantly, was clearly nervous as well. Where he’d been buoyant and excited for the theatrics of the first task, after seeing what could happen, he carried a sense of dread with him too. It pained Obi-Wan that his friends worried for him so, but he’d be a liar to say he wasn’t fearing the same for Anakin.
It hadn’t taken long for the press to swarm them as they approached the navy and gray tent to the furthest corner. Evidently, the other competitors had arrived in some grandiose fashion. Anakin had apparently arrived on a chariot with the Kenobis. He’d roll his eyes if he wasn’t tasked with shoving his way through a crowd of flashing cameras and their onslaught of needling questions.
“Obi-Wan! How’s it feel to be losing so terribly to a child?”
“Is it true your parents might officially adopt Anakin and make him the heir of Kenobi estate?”
“Do you truly believe the contest is cursed or are you just ashamed to admit defeat?”
“Where’s Ventress, Kenobi? Trouble in paradise?”
He knew better than to look at any of them and tugged on Satine’s hand to guide them through and she did the same to Cody, making them a train of desperate students trying to find refuge.
Since Cody was larger, he pushed to the front and went into the tent first without issue. However, when Satine attempted to go in after him, the flaps to the tent shut purposefully right in front of her. Obi-Wan frowned and turned back to face none other than the tight-lipped and stone-faced Mas Amedda, who had always been one of his parents' personal guards, and did not appear keen on letting them inside. Thanks to the charm on the tent, the reporters couldn’t get right in their faces, but they were still obviously eating up the potential drama.
“Sorry, Obi-Wan, your parents made it clear not to allow trash inside the tent.”
“Excuse me,” Obi-Wan hissed, anger flooding through his veins and briefly distracting him from the near-death he would surely endure in an hour’s time. “You will let her inside.”
He looked to Satine, who was no longer holding his hand, but very purposefully glaring at Mas. He was obviously speaking loud enough only to appease the public and the press, but it still boiled him to the brim. Moreover, it was obvious this had happened before and his heart sagged at the thought. It made him especially sorry that he hadn’t been able to stop it the last time.
The stern Chagrian rolled his eyes, “If you insist on having a plaything before the festivities, go snog your girlfriend.”
Obi-Wan opened his mouth to bark a very specific array of words that would not have been deemed to be “like him”, but Satine got there first.
“Okay.” Satine clipped with an iciness and without looking at him, grabbed Obi-Wan by the collar of his jersey, and pulled him down to plant a firm and decisive kiss on his mouth. The crowd suddenly went into a frenzy of picture-snapping and shouting questions and exclamations at them. However, like most kisses with Satine, all of that faded away into a daze for Obi-Wan.
She cut it off shorter than he would have liked, but he quickly remembered where they were and straightened.
“Because I am his girlfriend.” She hissed at the impressively shocked face of Mas Amedda.
“Yeah, she is.” Obi-Wan said, loud enough for confirmation to anyone that wanted to question otherwise, and while he was significantly smaller than his family’s loyal guard, he stood with his shoulders squared back and pushed their way into the tent.
Anakin was surrounded by people, some he knew some he didn’t. He’d been asked to appear early by the Kenobis but he’d expected it to just be for a pep talk, not a jaunt around the grounds in a chariot or for press. He hadn’t even gotten a chance to say goodbye to Rex and Padmé. The thought did place a little more pressure than he’d expected on his chest. Now at least he found himself alone in his corner of the tent holding tightly to his golden scroll and trying, failing really, at finding any last minute meaning on the strange depiction on the page before him.
Hera had gotten here before him and looked not at all concerned for the task ahead of them. She was lightly stretching her golden scroll lay unassumingly on a table in the middle of the room. Neither Quinlan nor Obi-Wan had been seen, but Anakin could hear chatter outside that only meant that one of the other two missing champions was on their way. He peered over at Hera again before cautiously standing. She glanced his way and he stuck his arms up to stretch, letting his own scroll drop onto the chair he’d been sitting in. She went back to paying him no mind so he slowly inched his way across the room.
He pulled her scroll over to him and pressed it flat. It was an image of a broken broomstick, someone was falling. Anakin frowned, what did that have to do with Vader? Were these simply bad omens?
“Hey,” Anakin jumped, dropping his hold on the scroll and it snapped its way back into place, “I didn’t think I had to worry about children snooping here.”
“I’m not a child!” Anakin crossed his arms, “And anyways if you didn’t want anyone snooping you should have kept it on your side of the room.”
Hera simply snatched her scroll away and tucked it into her bag. Anakin slunk back over to his seat. He’d gained no new information and now he felt bad. Not a great way to start a tournament.
Luckily for him the tent flap opened and Cody hurried inside, followed shortly by a flustered Obi-Wan and a smug Satine which caused enough distraction.
“Where did you lot go?” Cody raised an eyebrow, “I thought you were right behind me.”
“Just had to correct a misstatement,” Satine said smoothly, but it seemed Cody didn’t buy it, even if he let it slide.
“Should we go through what we have one more time?” Cody prompted.
“What do we even have?” Obi-Wan’s voice trailed off as they pulled a curtain across his corner of the tent. It must have a muffling charm on it. Anakin kicked at the floor, bored and a bit lonely. At least he had some sort of clue, Obi-Wan had never figured out his scroll, at least not that Anakin had heard.
“Hello my fellow Champions!” Quinlan, was the next to burst through the tent flaps, he was wearing what could only be described as a sleeveless vest that he’d failed to zip up. It looked more like a piece of fabric draped across his shoulders than an actual top.
Hera gave him a nod and Anakin lifted a hand, but Quinlan didn’t seem perturbed by the lack of greeting, just sashayed his way to his section of the tent, setting down his bag and digging around for hopefully his actual Triwizard jersey. Quinlan was humming which was the only thing to really break the silence of the room, Anakin quite wished he’d pull his own curtains simply to leave him and Hera to contemplate in peace.
Mas Amedda entered into the tent followed by Ventress of all people.
“Young Skywalker,” The chagrian greeted with a polite bow, “Mr. and Mrs. Kenobi have requested you appear with them for a few more photos.”
Anakin frowned, “I already did that,” He pointed out, “We took like a hundred photos, surely one of them is good enough.”
“Is this a refusal?” Mas was giving him some kind of stony look, but Anakin didn’t bite, he had a lot more to worry about than a picture.
“Tell those reporters I’m busy preparing for the tournament,” Anakin waved around his scroll, “That starts soon you know.”
Mas’ lips were pressed hard into a line, but still he nodded, “As you wish,” And he dipped out of the tent. Ventress must have left too, because she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. At least Quinlan had finally pulled his curtains shut.
Ventress yanked the curtains shut, careful that her nails, filed quite sharp, did not poke through the fragile material.
“Oh so you did come out to watch me,” She hated the feeling that followed his voice, the way it made her want someone. She had always been better off alone.
His arms found themselves snaking their way around her and she let them. Hate herself as she may, she let them. She twisted until they were pressed together chest to chest and she pushed at him until he fell back into the chair in the corner.
“I’m only here to warn you not to fail. I don’t deal with losers.”
“I don’t know about that,” He grinned his hand running down her spine. She was unable to suppress a shiver, “I didn’t win the first challenge.”
“But did you lose?” Her nails were surely digging themselves into his arms, but he didn’t even flinch.
“Of course not,” He looked at her with sharply lidded eyes, “How else could I show my face around here?”
“So you do know,” She growled leaning closer. He was like a magnet, the further she wanted to distance herself the closer she kept getting pulled, “You’ve got yourself a reputation.” They were close enough together that their breath mingled. She felt the desperate need to pounce, to steal away his breath, but she waited.
“And I’d surely hate to lose it,” He grinned, his teeth flashing and she took it as a sign to attack.
Her lips crashed against his, their teeth knocked together in the heat of the fray and she found herself leaning towards him, further and further as if she could find a way to crawl under his skin entirely.
He would let her. That she already knew his hands were doing nothing, but aiding her quest, pulling her into him keeping her flush against him. She had her hands twisted around his locs, holding him hostage-
Then the moment disappeared as did any remaining air in her lungs as she felt a wave of vertigo before they suddenly crashed to the ground. It was a horribly loud noise, loud enough that Ventress knew whatever muffling charm was around them would not be enough and she practically ripped her hands away from him.
“Ow, hey,” He complained, lazily. He had a drunk sort of look in his eyes as if her mere presence was enough to poison him to such a state. She hissed as she saw the shadow of footsteps under the edge of the curtain. She grasped the edge of the tent wall and tugged just high enough for her to crawl under. Completely horrid and absolutely undignified, but the horror of being found there filled her with far more dread.
“Don’t lose,” She hissed at him and he laughed as if her antics were the only thing on his mind.
“I won’t,” He promised, voice low and Ventress hated that their “conversation” had to be cut so short.
She was lucky today. No one was there to spot her crawling out of the Champions tent like a caught snake. She smoothed a hand through her hair and straightened her cloak. Well what did it matter? She had limited time to play out this charade and she intended to enjoy herself while she still could.
“And you remember the spell for suspending multiple forces?”
“Yes Satine,” Obi-Wan replied dutifully, even if his mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t stop her, even if he tried, but she was only concerned. He would be stepping into this task with no hint, no clue beyond what she’d gleaned from Anakin, Hera, and Quinlan, none of which was particularly eye opening.
He wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t worried about it. But he just held her hand and answered her questions while Cody paced the floor in front of them.
“We’ve done just about every strength building workout I can think of,” Cody muttered grimly, “There’s no time to try anything else.”
“And you haven’t forgotten how to reflect a curse?” Her hand tightened around his at the thought, but he just squeezed her hand back.
“Satine. Darling,” He captured her attention, “I remember.”
“Good,” She replied firmly, but refused to release the grip on his hand even as the curtains parted slightly and his friends were asked, quite calmly by Headmaster Yoda, to head to the stands.
“Alright mate,” Cody placed his hands on both of Obi-Wan’s shoulders, “You’ve trained for this, I know you can do it!” Even if none of them had an inkling about what ‘it’ was.
“Thank you Cody,” He nodded and Cody stepped back giving Satine the option to move in front of him, looking Obi-Wan right in the eye. Her eyes were carefully guarded, but worry still leaked from her movements. He expected a pep talk of sorts, but instead she just raised her freehand to his cheek. Her lips brushed against his, softly. It wasn’t very long, but he still felt a bit lightheaded.
“Please be careful,” She tried to phrase it like a lecture, but it was a bit too soft to have any bite to it.
“Of course I will,” He confirmed and they stood there, far too long gazing into the other’s eyes. Finally Cody tapped Satine’s shoulder and she looked up at him then back at Obi-Wan before sighing. She dropped his hands and led the way out of the tent.
Obi-Wan watched them go with a steely expression. His fellow champions were waiting for him surrounding the table in the middle of the room. He joined them adding his own golden scroll to the others laid out on the table.
“It really was blank then,” Hera gave him a sad sort of look. He stiffened.
“I’m sure there’s a reason for it,” He deflected whatever pity he could.
“You really didn’t solve it?” Anakin was eyeing him up and he shrugged.
“Nothing to solve apparently.”
This time, the Headmasters led them out of the tent rather than transporting them anywhere. The Quidditch pitch had been transformed; each contestant was placed at an entrance along tall black walls. There was no roof. That way spectators could watch along with them and apparently their voices would be amplified and likeness projected up into spheres of water dancing throughout the air.
“Alright, alright!” Aayla Secura’s voice rang out as she once again took the helm of Hogwarts announcer. She stood in the professor’s box alongside students from each of the other schools, “Welcome everyone to the second task!” She was far too cheerful, but then again that’s what likely got her the job in the first place, “I’m going to be honest this one’s been so far underwraps we don’t even know what it’s going to be!”
So with no hopes of some last minute information, Obi-Wan gripped his wand, not wanting to leave himself unguarded by tucking it into his jacket.
“What I can tell you is that each of our competitors will enter the first room when the lights turn green!” She explained, “There’s a series of rooms and the goal is to be the first one to make it to the end! Good luck!”
There was a hushed silence before finally Nala Se’s voice was projected, she counted down and Obi-Wan steeled himself; whatever was past this first entrance, he would be ready.
“Go!” The light in front of him turned green and he rushed through the dark spell concealing the first room.
Obi-Wan’s eyes flickered around, cobblestone walls, no real ceiling, just the illusion of one far above. There was a door, clearly locked across from him as well as a few candles to illuminate the otherwise deceptively dark space. A stone that made for a table was the only other thing in the room and it had a parchment laid across it.
Obi-Wan’s heart was pounding and he kept glancing around expecting something to come out from somewhere . But when he unrolled the parchment he felt his caution fall to confusion.
How can the number FOUR be half of FIVE?
Satine’s jaw had fallen so far down she was extremely likely to start catching flies like a toad. Her heart had nearly stopped and her hand which had previously been gripping onto Cody had gone slack.
“There’s no way,” She repeated for just about the 20th time, “No way,” The 21st.
Projected above the stands so they could follow along was a visual of each contestant standing in their first room and an inscription in gold glittery magic dancing above them.
How can the number FOUR be half of FIVE?
“ Cody ,” Her voice was practically dripping with relief even though she knew there was still more to come, “ Cody , It’s a riddle challenge .”
“You’re telling me,” Cody said very slowly, “That we’ve been camping out in the library when all we really needed to do was have a few more goes at Ravenclaw’s door knocker,” But even at the fake outrage that was slowly building on his face the relief underlying it was quite palpable.
All the champions seemed a bit stunned, before moving to hunch over the parchment to figure out what on earth it could mean. But Ben was still standing there after another minute. Then he laughed, an absolutely lighthearted laugh full of the same relief both Satine and Cody had experienced moments ago. It echoed around the stadium and the crowd murmured in confusion.
Satine clasped her hands together, eyes calculative and watchful. Cody looked at her with a question in his eyes and she smiled.
“Yes I already know the answer,” Her eyes shined as she looked down at Ben who had just pulled a quill out of his jacket pocket, because of course he’d brought one. Just in case, “And I know he does too.”
“This doesn’t make any sense!” Anakin kicked at the big rock in the middle of the room. He looked down at the stupid paper again. Four couldn’t be half of five. That was simple math! Had these wizards gone stupid?
He looked around, there must be something around here that could help him move on. He’d expected to fight off a creature or something, not have to sit here and stare at more words on a page. If he wanted to do that he’d spend more time in the library.
The library. Obi-Wan.
He cursed soft enough he hoped the projection charms wouldn’t catch it. His mentor, would know the answer to this and was probably tearing his way through this stupid riddle right now. That was extremely unfair. Ravenclaws were practically born spouting off riddles. He’d never been able to break into the Ravenclaw common room without help and now he was regretting not trying as often. Was this done to give Obi-Wan the advantage? So what his scroll had been tampered with so now the rest of them had to play a challenge that was simply too easy for him?
Rather unfair if you asked Anakin.
He paced the floor, but his mind was nothing if not blank.
“Two plus two equals four,” He muttered softly, “Half of five is 2.5 though.” Either way he looked at it, it simply didn’t make sense, “One plus one plus one plus one, is still four,” he groaned, tugging at his hair. How much farther ahead was Obi-Wan? His mentor was going to make a fool of him for all the world to see.
Obi-Wan could not believe his luck. He was practically a walking bout of bad luck on a good day, often clumsy, but here he was basically given a pot of gold to walk away with.
He’d gotten through the first room, with ease, of course half of FIVE was IV the roman numeral for four. Pure genius really. A wonderful challenge of the mind. And here he was, after dutifully writing the answer, upon the second room where a riddle waited for him again on the table.
What disappears as soon as you say its name?
Delightful really. The answer was obvious of course and he had no trouble adding it to the scroll, but just as his ink swished across the page it slowly faded. Obi-Wan frowned. That wasn’t right. He knew he was correct he couldn’t think of anything else it could be, but-
Oh how clever indeed! He froze, not making so much of a twitch in movement and even went ahead and muttered a quiet, “Silencio,” to the fabric of his jacket. He stood unmoving, breathing only when strictly necessary as he noticed the first riddle slowly fading away from the parchment itself and inturn, in his silence , it revealed another.
I speak without a mouth, hear without ears; I have no body, but I come alive with wind. What am I?
Incredible really, who would have thought a pair of riddles working hand and hand with each other?
“Echo!” He shouted loud enough that he could hear the reverberations of his voice come back to him.
Hera frowned, she’d gotten past the first riddle fairly well she thought. But the second was proving to be a bit more difficult. She wasn’t really a riddle person, but she was sure the answer was silence. She’d tried writing it out with the tip of her wand like she had in the first room, but it hadn’t worked, so she’d resorted to pacing. She was biting the tip of her thumb in consideration, before she paused and stared down at the riddle, there must be something else she was missing.
As she stood above it she frowned, it looked as if the words were fading.
“What-” She started to say, but the moment a tone left her voice it was like the ink immediately regained its color. She grinned, keeping silent, but she got it now.
I speak without a mouth, hear without ears, I have no body, but come alive with wind. What am I?
She wasn’t sure, but she felt more confident knowing she had been right. She just needed a little more time to think.
Though truthfully Cody had no idea what was going on as he watched Kenobi create an orb of light so bright he had to look away, it didn’t lessen the pride for his friend as he was practically walking leisurely right through the competition. Satine was practically bursting at the seams a smile so wide it could split her face in two and he wished he had a camera to show Kenobi when he finished this stupid challenge and they could all go back to their lives for a little longer. Both Hera and Quinlan were in the second room though it looked like Hera was much closer to figuring it out. Anakin on the other hand… Cody cringed as the boy continued to pace back and forth in front of the parchment, clearly as unprepared for this as anyone could be.
At least if it had been him chosen for this competition, he’d have some background on it, after listening to his friends chat nonsense at each other for years. Though he couldn’t say he’d be much farther along. Satine and Obi-Wan despite being so far away from each other were both figuring out the next piece of the puzzle practically as soon as the riddle revealed itself. It was almost uncanny.
The Ravenclaw section was chatting quite excitedly amongst themselves all up for a good challenge and trying not to look down as Kenobi answered every question easily so they had a chance of guessing themselves.
It was probably a good thing that it was a Ravenclaw, Aayla, narrating this whole thing. He had his own personal narrator of course as Satine would turn to him excitedly and point things out.
“Cody look,” She pointed to where Obi-Wan raised up a key that had been left upon the table, “Only one color, but not one size; stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies; present in sun, but not in rain, doing no harm and feeling no pain,” She quoted the riddle, “It’s a shadow and see!” She shook his shoulder excitedly, “He’s going to use his light from the first riddle to project the shadow on the door and-”
The door fell open, turning to a strange dark liquid and literally melting away.
“Absolutely brilliant isn’t he?!” Satine gushed and he grinned, matching her energy.
“Bloody brilliant,” Cody agreed. Projected on in front of them, Obi-Wan looked assured, confident, he hadn’t been so sure since the day Cody had met him really.
The next room had a variety of things placed on the table, none of it meant anything to Cody even as the question, ‘What do you light first?’ Appeared in the air over Obi-Wan’s bubble.
“Ah!” Obi-Wan appraised the room, “Trying to be clever I see,” He approached the table, the question burning above it in sparkling magic.
“Let’s see here, we have a candle, a kerosene lamp, and,” He looked to the side, “A fireplace it seems,” He nodded his head, “But what to light first? Simply this,” He pinched the small matchstick from its place on the table in front of him, giving it a strike and from the smoke of the fire the next riddle appeared.
You measure my life in hours and I serve you by expiring; I’m quick when I’m thin and slow when I’m fat; The wind is my enemy.
“Certainly measured in hours,” Obi-Wan chuckled as he gently rested the burning match against the wick of the candle. It burned faster than it should have and when it got to the bottom there was a key.
This was all too easy.
Or at least it had been, until he found himself face to face with a beast.
Quinlan was absolutely out of his element and he’d definitely be man enough to admit it. He’d come in overconfident, his promise to Asajj still burning on his tongue and now he’d pay the price. Words weren’t really his strong suit, he was more of a man of action. He believed there was value in both, but not everyone could have it all.
He’d made it past that first room, and he’d eventually struggled through the second, but it was finding himself quite stumped in the third.
What can fill a room, but takes up no space?
He thought lots of things could: air, most certainly, his voice, if he was loud enough. It was hard enough thinking through these often wordy riddles did they have to be so ambiguous . He tried not to cringe at the prospect of so many people watching him fail, but if he wasn’t in last place he’d certainly be surprised.
“Oh,” He ran a hand down his face, “Light, yeah,” He raised his wand and absolutely flooded the damn thing. It was bright and it seared his eyes, but when he blinked he could see the next riddle emblazoned on the back of his eyelids.
Only one color, but not one size; Stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies; Present in sun, but not in rain, doing no harm and feeling no pain.
He couldn’t relate to the no pain part, letting his spell drop so he could think this through a little longer.
“Stuck at the bottom?” He muttered.
This could take awhile.
Anakin was still stuck in the first room and he was beginning to panic. There was no way he wasn’t falling behind, but he wasn’t any closer to an answer. He’d counted out loud to a hundred even, hoping that one of the numbers would do him any good.
Something had to open this bloody door.
He’d abandoned the parchment in favor of inspecting the doorway and he had found something of interest. Numbers carved around the door. Each cobblestone held one, written in roman numerals for whatever reason. Anakin sure couldn’t figure out what they meant, but he had seen adventure movies before. He pressed hard onto the stone with the ‘V’, the five. And it did in fact dip in. He cheered, but when he went to pull on the handle the door didn’t budge. From the sky fell five stones, two of which he barely avoided.
“Are you trying to kill me?!” Anakin called upwards, no longer caring if his voice was carrying. He was getting more and more frustrated. Angrily he pushed the four, IV and braced himself for some other bit of nonsense, but instead he found himself slipping, falling through the now gone door into the second room.
From his place on the floor Anakin blinked. Unbelievable.
He still didn’t know what had solved the initial riddle, but he hoped to the stars themselves, that whatever was in this room was easier.
What disappears as soon as you say its name?
“How would I know that?!” Anakin seethed, “This whole stupid thing is rigged!”
It took awhile for him to be calm enough to notice the disappearing ink.
Obi-Wan had never seen a Sphinx before, in real life at least. He’d read about them of course, they were wonderfully interesting. Classified by wizards as beasts due to some violent tendencies, they could communicate in spoken language and they were highly intelligent. Satine had some thoughts about that and now he was sure if he lived through this, she would likely bring them up again.
The Sphinx was lying up on a platform above him, likely for intimidation and he wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t work. It gazed down at him with little emotion before it spoke boldly.
“To reach your final destination, one more riddle blocks your way. Answer without hesitation, or our time we will replay,” It sat up, bringing its height even taller, but Obi-Wan nodded, he was ready.
“What does man love more than life, hate more than death or mortal strife;” It began, “that which contented men desire; the poor have, the rich require; the miser spends, the spendthrift saves, and all men carry to their graves?” When it finished it looked down, waiting watchful. Obi-Wan put a hand to his chin, gears spinning, but he was pretty sure.
“It’s nothing,” He answered confidently, stepping towards the creature, “Man loves nothing more than life, hates nothing more than death. The contented man needs nothing more, the poor have and the rich require. The miser spends nary a cent and the spendthrift saves equally. Not a thing can men bring to their graves. The answer is simply, nothing.”
He had read a lot about the noble Sphinx, but none of his readings said anything about them being impressed. The door fell away and the next was smothered in darkness. Obi-Wan made to step forward, but the Sphinx moved out of the corner of his eye and he paused.
“What is it that given one you’ll have either two or none?” It prompted and Obi-Wan’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion. Hadn’t, hadn’t he solved this room?
“A choice, I believe,” He answered slowly. The Sphinx nodded and looked towards the dark void in front of him.
“The person who makes it has no need for it; the person who buys it has no use for it. The person who uses it can neither see nor feel it,” It bowed its head and Obi-Wan felt his blood run cold.
A coffin.
Obi-Wan looked between the creature and the next room. It was trying to warn him, of what he wasn’t sure. It was giving him a choice, to stay here, to give up or to go forward and face something more dangerous than a few funny riddles. He knew he was being targeted in this competition, so the next room… well if he went he’d need to be prepared. He thought of Satine who would surely demand he turn back, give up.
He didn’t want to disappoint her, but he still felt an obligation. He clutched his wand tighter.
“When I’m used I’m useless,” He said slowly, turning to face the door, shoulders squared, “Once offered soon rejected, in desperation I’m often expressed. What am I?”
“Hmm,” The creature hummed, they looked at each other, a moment of understanding passing between them. It didn’t answer, but he knew it knew as well as him, an excuse, “When is a door no longer a door?” It asked instead.
“When it’s ajar,” Obi-Wan answered as he took a bold step through the shadowy veil.
The fun Satine had been having drained away when Obi-Wan stepped into the same room as a Sphinx. Considered a beast for violent tendencies that Satine really likened to the fact wizards had been encroaching on their land. Still if this was the moment it decided to fight back she didn’t want to see it.
“What does man love more than life, hate more than death or mortal strife;” Its voice echoed through the pitch, “that which contented man desire; the poor have, the rich require; the miser spends, the spendthrift saves, and all men carry to their graves?”
Satine liked this one, it was more challenging, more thought provoking. It was more than just a riddle, but something that asked questions that most were not willing to see. Qui-Gon would have loved it.
“It’s nothing,” Ben answered poetically, she felt her heartbeat quicken as his words filled the air, “Man loves nothing more than life, hates nothing more than death. The contented man needs nothing more, the poor have and the rich require. The miser spends nary a cent and the spendthrift saves equally. Not a thing can men bring to their graves. The answer is simply, nothing.”
“How the two of you get these so fast is beyond me,” Cody muttered, eyes flickering to where Anakin was struggling through the second room while Hera made her way into the forth and Quinlan worked on the third. She was happy to see Ben in the lead, but she was surprised when he paused before entering the final room.
“What is it that given one you’ll have either two or none?” Satine frowned, why was the Sphinx still questioning him, hadn’t he got it correctly?
“A choice, I believe.”
“The person who makes it has no need for it; the person who buys it has no use for it. The person who uses it can neither see nor feel it.”
A coffin. Satine’s hands flew up covering her mouth, a horrified gasp escaping nonetheless.
“What? What is it?” Cody asked, but she found she couldn’t say. She swallowed, lowering her shaking hands and managed at least.
“It’s giving him a warning.”
“A warning?” Cody was on high alert now, looking over the edge of the seats trying to see into the last room though it hadn’t been revealed yet, “What for?”
“When I’m used I’m useless,” Obi-Wan’s voice filled the stands once more, “Once offered soon rejected, in desperation I’m often expressed. What am I?” Satine stood up, anger fueling her movements, she ignored the complaints of people's views that she was ruining.
“What? What’s he talking about?” Cody stood alongside her, confusion making him seem more frazzled than he likely would be.
“He’s going in anyways.”
The Sphinx hummed, “When is a door no longer a door?”
“When it’s ajar,” She said at the same time he did.
The next room was dark. He tried to send out balls of light from his wand but the most it would allow was a simple, “lumos,” before the darkness seemed to eat the light itself. It was cold and he wasn’t sure where he was going, only that he really couldn’t find the wall. He swept the light at his feet, but it revealed nothing of interest. Sweeping it through the air revealed nothing at all.
He felt something brush across the back of his neck, but when he turned around, nothing was there. He felt his heart leap in his chest without his permission, he turned and walked quicker. He was maybe beginning to regret his decision to proceed.
Something brushed past him again and he shivered. He wasn’t sure why, but he could feel a heavy disappointment settling on him, guilt, worry. He couldn’t think of the cause. He continued because he had too. There was no choice, he could not see the door, he could not see anything.
He picked up the pace, but something touched his arm and he recoiled, trying to scramble back. Only for him to feel fabric fall across his neck. Thoroughly freaked out, he thought quickly and traced a large X through the air with his wand, “Confrigo!” He shouted, magic shooting out quickly and with a little more power than he’d normally intend, but at the moment he really couldn’t care much about his refinement.
The spell across the ceiling took the explosion too well, lighting the entire inside of the room a glowing horrifying red for one horrible, terrifying minute. And Obi-Wan realized he was trapped in a room and face to face with a dementor. There were more slowly homing in on him, he’d seen them out of the corner of his eyes before the red light dimmed. He’d been a bit more preoccupied by the one right in front of him, empty eye sockets and decaying skin, all wrapped up in a worn cloak that showcased their withered bodies a little too well.
He tried and failed to push aside the feeling of terror, it would only attract them quicker, but he found that he couldn’t. There was more light in the room now, but he almost found that worse, the darkening charm on the ceiling was slowly being eaten away, though whatever force trapped the dementors with him held strong.
He ran, but realized soon that the floor was actively working against him, refusing to let him get to any of the walls, simply moving under foot to send him right back to the middle where the dementors were waiting. If he kept running, he could survive, but even with Cody’s training, no one could run forever. His heart was falling, shattering a bit as he thought of his friends, out there in the stands about to watch him meet a fate worse than death, because he’d never in his life been able to produce a real patronus.
He’d failed Cody, he’d failed Satine. Satine .
The thought of losing her, of her losing him was enough that he stumbled, the ground moved to assist in him crashing to the ground. He turned around on his back in time to see the dark horrible figures looming over him. One of them was stretching out its horrible hand with long fingers and flaky skin. He tried to dodge, but he was right back where he started. The creature lifted him by the neck and he fell into the too easy, too human reaction of trying to claw its hand off of him. It didn’t even waver, only leaned in, its permanently open mouth moved until it was only an inch apart.
The following moments were lifetimes. Obi-Wan’s lifetime specifically. He was 3 and being punished for tracking in mud through the foyer. He was 5 and his toys had just been sold off. His parents had given him his first horrible dress robes and took no time at all to remind him that he was old enough to do better. He was 6 and being admonished for looking in the windows of Sugarplum’s. He was 7, 8, 9, every age really, polishing every shiny object in the entire manor because he’d done something wrong , even if he didn’t know what..
His vision was full of disapproving eyes, harsh stares and even harsher words. A book to the face, a book from a friend , an important friend. Yes he had friends, but he’d done wrong by them too. First year, when he’d had his way paved onto the Quidditch field instead of Cody, it should have been Cody. And Satine had hated him and why wouldn’t she? He was everything she would always be against, a pureblood who knew his place, even if he didn’t always agree. He hadn’t made it into Slytherin though, and that failure rang through him just as clearly as it had when he’d first completed his sorting.
He’d pushed his friends away and held them at arm's length for years. He’d argued with Satine until she cried once, third year, how could he have forgiven himself? Cody had invited him over every school break and always had that disappointed look when he had to decline. He’d been a horrible friend really. Kept them away from him, locked them out. And when they had made their way into his heart he’d only betrayed Satine further by stringing her along. He’d broken her heart several times this year alone. He’d felt so hopeless so drained after their fight at the Yule Ball, unsure, questioning. How had she ever even considered him after all that? Perhaps she was better off-
In a last moment of clarity, it was like his eyes were begging them to see, blond hair, striking blue eyes, even so far away and with his vision going a bit blurry he could see her. Cody was there too, both of them. They were standing right between red and blue and they looked like they might have been shouting. He couldn’t hear them, but he wondered what was making them so upset. Satine’s hand went up to her face and he felt his breath catch. Was she crying?
Satine… he’d been nothing but a thorn in her side for 7 years, but she chose him anyway. He hadn’t expected it to work out, not after everything he did, but that night when he apologized… And they had kissed and she said yes, she didn’t just forgive him, but she wanted him. Wanted him endlessly. This wasn’t fantasy, he wasn’t the perfect knight there to rescue the surely brave princess. He was Obi-Wan Kenobi, with his own faults, his own mistakes and she wanted him anyway.
He raised his wand.
It was like the world exploded.
Blue light poured through the room at every angle, there was no escape for the dementors who shrieked in pain. Obi-Wan hit the ground hard, but it was like all the air had been pushed straight back into his lungs. He lay there gasping for breath, so this is what it was like to almost lose your soul, your very being.
The blue light was forming right above him and he watched a bit dumbfounded as a pair of wings, large in size, spread slowly. With one flap of the wings, his patronus looked down upon him, determined in its mission to protect him and graceful in the way it soared through the ceiling breaking the barrier. The dementors fled, seeing their opening to escape and then it was just Obi-Wan Kenobi, lying on a cold cobblestone floor as his patronus, his phoenix soared around the stadium.
He coughed, eyes wide as the walls of his challenge slowly fell away. The applause thundered in all at once, now that the sound charms had been broken. It was loud and wild. He looked back to where the red and blue met and although he couldn’t see them well from so far away he knew it was them. He waved and was met with more cheers from the stadium, even if that wasn’t his intent. His patronus ducked back towards him and disappeared right before it would have gone through him.
Satine felt her knees give out and she collapsed to the wooden floor in relief the moment Obi-Wan was ushered off. Her heart was pounding so loud she wasn’t even sure it was real anymore. His soul had started to leave his body. The projections in the air had given her a far too close look as her boyfriend's face had grown pallor and a bluish white light had started to sneak its way from his lips. He’d almost met a fate worse than death.
“Hey, do I need to get Madam Nema?” Cody was crouched down next to her looking quite worried, clearly about her, probably about Ben too.
“No I’m alright,” Satine shook her head and ignored how much her voice was shaking.
“If you say so,” Cody moved to sit properly on the bench, but Satine let herself stay down for a moment longer. Ben had to stop doing this to her. She joined Cody on the bench.
“He’s alright,” Cody reminded her quietly, trying not to be overheard, “And did you see him? Finally was able to make a patronus.”
“Yes in the absolute worst circumstances possible,” Satine’s voice was still shaking even as she did feel a bit of warm pride crop up at the thought. Ben had been trying to get a full bodied patronus since 5th year, “And where was anyone to step in? Were they to let the dementors have their kiss?”
“I don’t know,” Cody looked grimly towards where the Headmasters were all standing about down on the edge of the field, “Maybe since it’s part of the tournament-” He cut himself off with the shake of his head. He didn’t want to think about it either.
“I wonder what did it,” Satine said finally.
“Did what?” Cody turned back to her.
“What he thought of to garner a patronus, a phoenix no less,” Satine gazed off towards the medical tent.
“Is that bad?” Cody asked shifting in his seat slightly.
“A phoenix is an incredibly rare patronus,” Satine fell easily into the lecture, “All magical creatures are uncommon patronuses, but a phoenix would only fall to someone who is rather virtuous-”
“So Obi-Wan,” Cody confirmed.
“Phoenix can be incredibly self sacrificing,” Satine rolled her eyes, “But they represent rebirth, renewal. They literally rise from the ashes.”
“He has been doing that a lot recently,” Cody winced, “Hopefully it won’t be from literally ashes next time.”
Satine shot him a very dark look.
“It is a bit odd though,” Cody looked back down at the field where Ben last stood, “I didn’t see him say the spell.”
Satine frowned, “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Cody looked at her curiously, “He raised his wand, but I never saw his lips move.”
And come to think of it, she hadn’t either.
There was some shuffling down below on the field before a wand was raised and into the air burst blue sparks, swirling their way up. They congreated together slowly writing out in the sky for all to see, “1st: Kenobi.” It had been agreed upon then, that he’d made it first, as if there was really any other doubt.
If Satine didn’t have adrenaline in her system prior she sure did now. Her hands were shaking as she pressed them together, but she found pride making its way into her heart. She turned to Cody, an excited smile slowly returning to both of their faces. He’d done it after all. Won a task, one that was full of all his strengths, his best qualities, and he’d done something entirely new. Something that might make him a much more powerful wizard then even she’d suspected.
“I think we ought to go find him now,” She stood, legs still shaky, but Cody stood too.
“I’m right behind you!”
By the time Obi-Wan had been ushered by Yoda as well as the heads of houses through the winding secret tunnels and towards the bivouac, he hadn’t even had time to process what had just transpired. The sense of wind rushing through his eyes and the feeling of light colliding and briefly intersecting with his chest hadn’t died down and his eyes still blinked rapidly to dispel the little spots of lingering glimmer from his sight.
Had he truly done it?
Had he actually cast a full fledged patronus? Not only that, but one magnificent enough to allay an entire hoard of dementors all in a brilliant tornado of fortitude? One so bright that if he weren’t so emboldened- like a conductor radiating pure electricity- he might have feared it would eclipse the entire stadium.
It felt as though stars were dancing across his skin even as every step he took filled him with more exhaustion than the last. None of it mattered though, not even the win itself.
Because he’d done it.
He’d done something he’d never been able to and was quite resigned to the possibility that he never would be able to. It hadn’t felt like he’d done anything differently, even though he knew good and well that it was less about a physical difference and more about a spiritual one.
And the applause , my it had been grand, even if his time amongst it had been limited. Though he typically preferred to air on the side of humility in everyday life, he couldn’t help but marvel at himself in this moment. If only the person he’d been a mere six months prior could see him now.
He was fairly sure his younger self wouldn’t have believed it even if it were shown to him on a large projection screen. Hell, he was having a difficult time coming to terms with it, even if the satisfied smile he wore on his lips was nothing but pure candor.
And all he really wanted was to be reunited with his friends so he could properly celebrate this achievement.
It became abundantly clear that this desire would have to be put on hold indefinitely, as the moment they entered through the flap of the tent, the hardened demeanors of his parents waited for him with crossed arms and tight lips. One would never have known he won this task by their cold glares. He was surprised to find he was more weary than concerned by their presence. Perhaps, this was what Cody was referring to when he said adrenaline was a hell of a drug.
Admittedly, prior to this moment, they’d been considerably kinder to him (in their own way) thanks to his supposed compliance to their wishes, though he suspected all of that was for naught now, and more importantly, couldn’t bring himself to care.
“Leave us,” His Father ordered, like Headmaster Yoda and the accompanying professors were nothing more than low-class servants only existing to adhere to their whims and demands. Naturally, none of the professors nor Yoda moved a hair, and looked amongst themselves as though silently questioning where the eldest Kenobi believed he was right now.
“Are you deaf?” He asked again, this time more incredulous than cold.
“We will not,” Professor Windu said firmly, his intensified stare giving away how displeased he was to be bossed around by someone off the Hogwarts pay grade. “We have just as much of a right to be here as you do. And given the circumstances, likely more.”
“How dare you,” His mother all but shrieked, indignant at his refusal. “He is our son and we will be allotted time to speak to him. I don’t know who you think you are-”
“-Ask the same thing, we were,” Yoda cut in, uncharacteristically sharp, “Our terf, this is, not the ministry.”
“Though try as some might to make it as such,” Muttered Windu.
“Believe your son could be in danger, we do,” Yoda continued, ignoring Windu’s comment and who it could be addressed towards for the moment, “Protect him, we will.”
“And you believe it is us you must protect him from. Is that what you’re trying to say, Headmaster?” Obi-Wan’s father raised a long gray eyebrow, daring the short Headmaster to say something remotely out of line. Obi-Wan almost grimaced as he pictured the lawsuits of slander and defamation of character brewing before they’d even come to be.
“Forgive our presentation of such a fact, but I assure you that we are most definitely not accusing nor insinuating as such.” Professor Palpatine, who easily wore the most sympathy for both Kenobis on his face, urged kindly. “We only want to make sure young Obi-Wan is alright, just as I’m sure you do.”
Professors Tahl and Ti schooled their faces into unreadable expressions, but Professor Windu looked anything but certain of this. Yoda, for his part, was continuing his staredown with Obi-Wan’s father until it was Mr. Kenobi who looked away in reluctant defeat.
“If this is how it must be for now, it will be,” He said gruffly and fixed his look to his wife, “We’ve nothing to hide, do we?”
“Of course not, though it is incredibly insulting that we be treated like suspects in a crime we haven’t the faintest idea has been committed,” She spat and referred to Obi-Wan, “Look at him! He’s fine- all extracurricular atrocities aside.”
“Those dementors were not planned for this task, ma’am.” Professor Tahl said gravely, turning her head towards Obi-Wan. Despite his previous jubilation, his heart turned icy as he thought back to Tahl’s ambiguous vision on the train.
Surely… It hadn’t been his blood that she referenced so ominously, right? Then again, his luck had been anything but strong lately and if what she was saying about this task was true… Maybe it was truly his turn to be targeted this year.
“Like the shark in the first task,” He found himself saying.
“Indeed,” said Windu.
“Though you handled that quite brilliantly as you did this, my boy!” Palpatine said cheerily, “No one would ever suspect foul play when it seems you are impossible to kill!”
Obi-Wan didn’t know about that statement, seeing as he’d felt very much perishable when both of those things happened to him personally. He was sure whoever was after him was certainly quite miffed though.
“Are we even certain of this?” Mr. Kenobi scoffed, “I’ve caught fish larger than that shark and those dementors hardly resembled the sort I’ve seen lingering about Azkaban.”
“It was merely a boggart, after all,” Mrs. Kenobi added just as dismissively as her husband and Obi-Wan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That would definitely not help matters at all.
“It wasn’t.” Yoda said darkly and looked up at Obi-Wan with a confusing mixture of admiration and concern, “Strong, your boy is, but no doubts I have, that dark magic is involved.”
“Dark magic,” His mother sighed, “What else will they come up with? I feel as though every accent of bleeding-liberal media is just oozing with that term.”
“I’m not sure what else you would call vile atrocities occurring with the intent to cause death and destruction,” Professor Shaak Ti said coolly.
“It seems to me that Dooku or any other “dark” wizard would have far more pressing matters to take up.” He said dryly and gave Obi-Wan an unimpressed look, “Why have him when he could have the chosen one?”
“Exactly,” His mother nodded, “Not that we would ever allow such a thing to happen to the poor child, but this apparent danger seems a bit staged to me.”
“And if it is, we find that highly insulting beyond anything else that has occurred on this night,” His father said.
“I’m not sure where you are getting your assertions of us staging anything!” Professor Windu flared, “Beyond any forced pleasantries, that is.”
“What would anyone want with him?” His father asked. “Up until today, the boy couldn’t spark the barest hint of a patronus.”
Before Obi-Wan could find the space to be remotely hurt by that comment, his mother moved in with tenacity and scrutinizing prudence. She got close enough where Obi-Wan became dizzy and faint by trying to avoid displaying any emotion. His guard was up, but so was his frustration at their refusal to ever be pleased. Not even now, not even when he’d won.
In fact, he almost listed off a few people who would want something to do with him- a list that would include at least some of the other adults in this room, but he kept his mouth shut and tried to preserve the quickly depleting energy from the completed task.
“I’m not even positive he’d done it out there!” She said, eyeing him carefully as though trying to detect any lies on her own, “A phoenix, really? That doesn’t seem right to me at all.”
“A good point, indeed,” His father followed his mother’s lead and stepped closer, “I require a demonstration to even entertain that there was any true crisis at all.”
“Headmaster Yoda just said-” Obi-Wan started, but of course that was not a sufficient answer.
“-I care not for what anyone says . And the only person you should adhere to is me.” He said, grabbing Obi-Wan’s hand, which still held onto his wand from the arena, and forced it into a raised position. “If you truly did it out there, you can do it here too.”
“Mr. Kenobi, Obi-Wan is likely exhausted. I don’t think-” Professor Tahl placed a warm hand on his shoulder, but the act of defense was promptly ignored by his mother’s rejection.
“You heard your father! If you want us to take this apparent threat seriously, you will show us that you are capable of what you say you are.”
“It was real-” He said.
“Prove it.”
“I-”
“-NOW!” His father boomed, breaking away from the decorum he and his mother tried to retain whilst amongst others. Obi-Wan didn’t even want to begin to ponder how this conversation would have gone if the professors weren’t present.
“Obi-Wan-” Headmaster Yoda began, voice wary and warning. What, Obi-Wan couldn’t hear, because suddenly, it was just the sense of inadequacy and dissatisfaction rolling off him in sharp and strangulating coils. Until all there was left was the demand on the table.
He didn’t want to show them. He didn’t want to prove anything at all, because he’d already proven enough to himself. Their validation was not his, but the violent look in their eyes- wild and disproving was soul sucking entirely on its own in ways that a patronus could not banish. In fact, it was worse than a dementor's kiss, because a dementor was not supposed to love. They were not made to ever feel human emotion, but to make people void of them.
Parents, however, though Obi-Wan knew very little of what it would be like, were definitely supposed to love.
“Expecto...” He started to say, but his words got caught somewhere between his brain and his mouth, and more than anything did he feel that exhaustion from earlier taking its toll. Where it once felt dreamy, it now was a weight around his neck.
His parents, unsurprisingly, would be having none of that as an excuse, and more than anything, Obi-Wan just wanted them to go away.
“Do you even know the spell?” His mother taunted.
“Patronum,” He added weakly.
“Oh come on, you can do better than that!” His father barked.
“Expecto patronum,” He repeated.
“I’m sorry, did we pay good money for that precious new wand for nothing?” She flicked his wand, which had never been duller than it was right now.
He swallowed what felt to be sand in the back of his throat, “Exp-”
“-louder!”
“-ect-”
“Pathetic!”
“-o-”
“Meek!”
“Patronum.” He wheezed in one breath, trying to put everything he had left into it, pushing with all his remaining strength. Anything to get them to just leave him alone.
But when he opened his eyes after squeezing them so tight that it hurt, he was left with only an empty wand and an even emptier look of contempt in his mother’s dark eyes. He didn’t bother to spare even a glance at the professors in the room, instead placing more focus on standing upright.
“-I don’t see anything, not a single flicker of a spark.” His mother said coldly. “Clearly a farce or at the very least, a fluke.”
He knew he could, but whatever spark had acted as flint to start the fire that instigated his scintillating display earlier was absent. There wasn’t any heat, just a dull sense of disappointment. Theirs or his, he wasn’t sure.
“We’re done here,” His father said, clapping down his walking stick and turning to leave. “I knew he couldn’t do it.”
“It’s a wonder why,” Obi-Wan sneered, not recognizing his own voice for a second, because while clearly tired from the effort, he didn’t sound as weak as they believed him to be.
“What did you just say to me?” He asked, turning back around slowly, as though readying himself to pounce.
“I said, it’s a wonder why,” Obi-Wan reiterated haughtily, “To conjure a patronus, one needs to center themselves in their happiest moment.”
“I will not stand for your tone-”
“-And I’ve never been happy around either of you,” He shook his head, “Ever. Just as I suspect you’ve never felt happy towards me.”
Neither even moved an inch, seeming to decipher if there was a way to rid themselves of the lingering witnesses of the room.
“Do not blame us for your failings, my boy,” His father said, “Your disappointments extend far beyond this task.”
“Even though I won.” He said.
“Clearly, someone gave it to you,” His mother said, “Just as I’m sure your little plaything has given plenty to you as well.”
“Enough that is.” Yoda said, “Leave now, you will.”
“We will do no such thing.” His mother growled, “We are bringing him with us, the tournament be damned.”
“I’m not going with you.”
“You’ve no choice,” His father said.
“He’s 17. Yes, he does.” Professor Tahl said tightly.
Realizing this as if they hadn’t given birth to him nearly 18 years before, they considered their options before his mother began, “How did you ever become-”
“-Such a failure, sure,” It was he who turned away, not seeking to get the last word, but only to remove himself from this conversation. He needed to sit down. “But have you ever asked yourselves why?”
“Why, you little brat-” When his father charged towards him, it was Professors Windu and Shaak Ti who immediately blocked his path to Obi-Wan, “Unhand me you miscreants! I will see to it that you are all rotting in Azkaban!”
“Go ahead and try,” Windu said, “Now, leave us.”
Likely not wanting to face the public disaster that would be them dragged away by the Headmaster and Head of Gryffindor house, both heads of House Kenobi took their leave, but not without shooting Obi-Wan with a scathing glare to end all insults.
And still, all he could do was collapse in the chair slid beneath him by Professor Tahl.
“Eat this,” She handed him a chocolate bar, which even under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t need much coaxing to try. “It’ll make you feel better.”
“Thank you,” He said, “I sincerely apologize about-”
“-Please don’t,” Professor Shaak Ti said and patted his leg, “Rest up. We’ll wait to talk later.”
“Indeed,” Professor Palpatine said, “I’m sure your parents will come around. They’re usually so reasonable.”
“Yeah,” He said lamely and busied himself with the chocolate Tahl gave him instead, slowly feeling his energy returning to him from what had been lost.
“Give you some time, we will.” Yoda said.
“I think there are a few people who would want to see you anyway,” Tahl smiled wryly as she was the last to exit the tent.
Obi-Wan hadn’t even considered who when his two best friends came bounding from around the corner and racing straight towards him.
“And the crowd goes wild for Kenobi ahhhhhhhhh!”
Despite feeling emotionally and physically drained from the fallout of his familial confrontation, he still stood and caught Cody, who was a faster runner and slammed into him first. He was proud to say he only wobbled a little, but was confident that his friend wouldn’t let him fall.
“Those Dementors didn’t stand a bloody chance!” He practically cackled, he was laughing so hard and Obi-Wan had to admit that his own laughter also came easy- a relief in comparison to the heaviness of the previous encounter. “You’re back in the running for first place!”
Honestly, Obi-Wan had nearly forgotten about the tournament; he'd been too wrapped up in the Kenobi drama power hour to remember his victory over the dementor. He merely clapped Cody on the back and while he expected the hug to end, it only continued and his friend began bouncing up and down a little.
“I knew my training would pay off!” He said gleefully and the hug tightened, becoming a little bit painful- but in a good way, Obi-Wan supposed. He’d never had the life hugged out of him before he met Cody and he was starting to get used to it.
“ Cody !” Satine whined and lightly smacked the large boy on the shoulder, “You’re hogging him! Let me have a turn!”
“Had you exercised more than just your wits every now and then and you might have gotten here quicker!” He taunted and at this point, Obi-Wan’s arms just dangled at his side, “Besides, you get to snog and hug on him as much as you like. Don’t think I haven’t heard the news that’s been buzzing around.”
“It was actually a means of protesting pureblood supremacy,” She retorted with crossed arms. “More than a just cause.”
“A kiss is a kiss!”
“Well, if it hurries things along then just snog him and get it over with!” She bantered.
“Please don’t.” Obi-Wan muttered, but he couldn’t fight the smile that his friends naturally brought out of him. Here were two people that were quarreling (even if playfully) over getting to hug him in congratulations. Had there really ever been any doubt who his real family was all along?
“As tempting as planting one on the future Triwizard champ is-” Cody shoved him away, still laughing, a teasing look in his eyes, “I’m still not much for Ravenclaws.”
“Oh no? I suppose I’ll take him then.” Satine quipped as she wrapped her arms around Obi-Wan’s shoulders and guided him down into a hug that was much gentler than Cody’s, but just as consuming and secure.
“You were wonderful .” Her breath was warm against his ear and he felt his cheeks flush. This was only exacerbated when they pulled away and he got the chance to really look at her for the first time since before the task and felt as though he was reliving the buoyancy that inspired a rekindled light to burn bright enough to create magic. All of his latent fatigue faded into nothing and he released a deep and calming breath.
If asked to perform the spell now, he was sure it would burn brighter than ever.
He must have been looking at her quite funny, because where there was once a broad smile on her shining face, there was now a look of concern. She reached out to feel his forehead, brushing stray hairs back in place, “Are you feeling alright? Did they give you chocolate?”
“No, I’m okay.” He said and even to him, he sounded like he was in a bit of a dream-like state.”I mean, they did. I’m better now.”
“What is it then?” She pressed.
“I’ll tell you later.” He said with a smile, because it wasn’t the time or the place to deliver such bold declarations, but he would tell her. There was no reason to be coy any longer.
“Like when I’m not around?” Cody complained and it jostled Obi-Wan a little out of his stupor and opened his mouth to rebuke, but Cody only waved them off, “Actually, nevermind. I really don’t need to be intruding on the gushy stuff.”
“Speaking of intruding…” Satine looked around them and seemed to be surprised at what she did- or didn’t- find, “Where are your parents? I really believed we’d have to fight tooth and nail for some face-to-face time with the star of the show?”
“Emphasis on face-to-face for Satine.” Cody deadpanned and she swatted him again, “Calm down, pacifist.”
She turned back to Obi-Wan with raised eyebrows, clearly knowing something was awry.
“They came by,” He said slowly, “They kept insisting I repeat what I’d just done, because they were so sure it had been a fluke, but funny thing about patronuses-”
“-You have to tap into your happiest memories.” Satine completed and his heart fluttered a little just looking at her before he continued.
“Exactly,” He said, “Needless to say, I don’t think they were too pleased with the outcome of that colorful conversation.”
He didn’t really want to say more than that, but knew they would both understand. They always did.
“Well, I’m- we’re so proud of you,” She squeezed his hand, a bold determination filling her in a way that made her even more beautiful somehow, “To hell with what they say or think on the matter, frankly.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulder to pull her into his side and her hands came up to wrap around his torso. He pressed a kiss to her temple and stuck out an arm for Cody to be pulled into the fold too.
“I’d say we’re getting a little soft, but this is something worth drinking over.” He said with a wry smile, “Maybe we can plaster that all over the next Daily Prophet front cover!”
“Well, they’re already calling me a tramp,” Satine shrugged, “Might as well tack alcoholic onto that moniker too.”
“That’s the spirit, dear.”
Although Quinlan had struggled through each challenge he still felt a bit better after beating his boggart. Nasty buggers as they were. He wasn’t phased by his fears though, not anymore, he’d already had a lot happen to him and he chose when he was allowed to succumb to fear not some lowly cupboard pest.
He looked up as his walls fell away and was pleasantly surprised to see he hadn’t come in dead last.
“I guess I kept my promise after all,” He grinned, giving a wave to the stadium that still cheered for him despite his slowness. He took his time walking over to where 2nd place was, Hera was standing just on the edge of the field watching the feed with interest.
“Anakin’s still in there?” Quinlan greeted her cheerfully and she smiled a bit gesturing to the sturdy black walls that still stood between them.
“He’s still on the fourth puzzle,” She raised an eyebrow, “I’m beginning to wonder if he’ll finish at all.”
“It wasn’t rigged was it?” Quinlan frowned, he didn’t like that someone was keen on interfering.
“No, everythings been the same so far, except probably the Sphinx that’s been different,” She informed him, but then added hesitantly, “It was Obi-Wan’s that was rigged.”
“What?” Quinlan looked around, but first place wasn’t anywhere he could see.
“His last room, he was supposed to face a boggart like us,” She frowned, “It was crawling with dementors.”
“Egh,” Quinlan winced, “And he won?”
“He won quite impressively I’m told,” Hera shrugged, “I finished about 5 minutes after him, you about 10 minutes after me.”
“I’m not the best at word games,” Quinlan shrugged.
“You’re not the only one,” Hera winced as Anakin triggered another trap. Quinlan hadn’t even known that was something you could do.
Surely, this had to be hell.
That was the only explanation that Sidious could fathom in regards to his agonizing position in the stands, surrounded by equally unenthused company, as he watched the second task drag on for hours beyond its allotted time. It wasn’t enough that he had to watch a rather brilliant plan crumble before his very eyes and be forced to smile and exchange congratulations like some sorry fool, but now he was reduced to bearing witness to his supposed prized pupil failing to the point of sheer monotony.
He’d already managed to get approval to give him hints- a request only granted likely because the Minister of Magic looked like he was falling asleep in his own private booth. Gunray, who sat to his left, was shifting antsy in his feet, likely skittish over his own ambiguous fate this evening. Truthfully, Sidious wasn’t sure who he wanted to drive a dagger through more: Gunray or himself. It seemed like the ladder would be much more merciful than witnessing the alleged chosen one use yet another bouncy ball jinx in an attempt to answer the question given to him.
This was supposed to be the answer to all of his hard work? This was the most powerful wizard to ever walk the earth? Not for the first time, Sidious doubted himself and his choices. He knew that somewhere, Tyranus was feeling similar doubts.
Though Tyranus had much less of a vested interest in Skywalker’s rise to power.
He grimaced at the smug look that his apprentice would desperately try to hide. He wasn’t the sort to brag, but he always had a pompous energy to him that encouraged the desire to drag his hands across glass or lay him face first in wet cement.
“And Skywalker… Tries again!” Aayla Secura’s voice echoed through the once packed stadium, reverberating louder since there weren’t as many people present as there were before.
Sidious cursed under his breath.
Sometimes, he was able to distract himself from Skywalker’s fumbling attempts at exercising critical thought with the profound fury garnered whenever his eyes drifted to where Ravenclaw house sat. Kenobi returned from the tent, of course, diligent and attentive as always. To see his head held high versus severed on a stick was brutal torture in its own right.
Beside him, that mudblood Kryze leaned on his shoulder, clearly close to giving into sleep as this task drew itself out longer and longer, while that meathead of a friend was missing somewhere. If he left, it was likely the smartest thing he’d ever done.
It was a sight that to Sidious, felt like a glitch, as these two should have been mourning- suffering- when they were far too relaxed for their own good.
“Perhaps, another hint?” Yaddle suggested to Yoda, who despite having lived longer than any of them, looked older than he ever had in that moment. The only bright side to Skywalker’s tedious bungle was the possibility that time might kill Yoda before Sidious would have to.
It was, just as hoping that his minions were capable enough of finding suitable dementors, only wishful thinking of course. Yoda perked up slightly and looked at him with a glazed expression that likely reflected everyone in the professor’s booth as they waited for this madness to end.
“Go on forever, this cannot.”
Though Sidious couldn’t admit as much out loud, just as he couldn’t say many of the things he wished he could, he wasn’t so sure that were true. To be unskilled at riddles was one thing, but it almost seemed like Skywalker was blatantly trying to mess up at this point. He knew he was young and inexperienced, but he made the mental note that the boy certainly needed to smarten up if he were to ever fill the spot held for him.
“I say we just call it now.” Windu said, “The boy looks exhausted.”
“He is not the only one,” Gunray said, though Sidious bristled at that, for he knew for certain that as a grown man, Gunray would not succeed in guessing any of these riddles either. That idiot would lose himself within a paper bag.
“He’s excelling physically,” He commented, trying to retain his composure and prevent himself from biting hard on his lower set of teeth to the point of breaking them.
“He’s guessing everything but the answer,” Shaak Ti said, “The boy needs focus.”
“And training.” Windu crossed his arms.
“There’s a reason for the age limit. That didn’t just come from nowhere,” Professor Plo pointed out, “I just don’t think we can let this go on for much longer.”
Sidious rarely ever sided with the softhearted Herbology professor, thinking him delicate and worthless to the staff just as most of them were, but he couldn’t help but agree there. This wasn’t like those ridiculous quidditch games, after all. At some point, this nightmare had to end and they could go on with their lives and plans.
Sidious cracked brittle knuckles as he debated where his own would take him from here.
“Hm… Confer with the other Headmasters, I will.” Yoda stood and took leave, disappearing behind a sweeping set of multicolored curtains. However, he didn’t get very far at all, because Headmaster Ziro and Headmaster Se emerged alongside him, clearly having come to report the same thing.
“It is a school night, Headmaster, and while we do respect any student’s self confidence-” Nala Se began and Sidious very nearly spat at the woman. Those who were weak should not be encouraged in any measure. Instead, they should have to suffer the consequences for their failure to rise through the ranks on their own merit.
“-Forget that! I want to go to bed!” Ziro got straight to the point and though Sidious believed him to be an obnoxious pest of a slug, he didn’t disagree with the sentiment.
“End this task, we will,” Yoda said, nodding. “Accept fourth place, Skywalker will.”
Not that there was really any room for error on that front. As the person presently meddling with the tournament, Sidious could very much confirm that there was no way in hell Skywalker landed anywhere else but last place.
However, just as Yoda made the motion to get the Minister’s attention, the announcer’s loud voice boomed over the speakers, consuming them all with reinvigorated excitement.
“AND THE TASK IS OVER! SKYWALKER FINISHES STRONGLY!”
Anakin was exhausted. It felt like he’d been in here for hours, but he’d bested the puzzles, the stupid word games. He still wasn’t sure what the answers actually were and he was pretty sure the sphinx had taken pity on him, because he was here in the last room.
He was faced with a cabinet. The door shook like something was trapped. He had an inkling about what could be in here, a boggart, one of the creatures Professor Palpatine had started teaching him about. He intended to deal with it quickly. Raising his wand, he unlatched the door and jumped aside.
Out stepped a large shadow, it was definitely in the shape of Vader, but as it turned to him it seemed to shift, growing smaller until Anakin found himself face to face with his mum. Or it would be his mum, if it had a face.
Anakin froze the spell on the tip of his tongue dying as his faceless mother turned towards him and took a step forward. His heart beat quickly and his brain spun.
“It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not real!” Became the loop as his thoughts as he raised his wand and tried to think of anything funny, anything at all.
“Ridkulous” He cried and it must have been a sickly boggart or something, because despite an unclear picture in his mind it still shifted into a mildly funny sock and inched away across the ground. The walls around him finally started fading and though he was shaken, he was finished and he was exhausted and he found himself sinking to the plush grassy ground as the crowd cheered a bit halfheartedly for his completion. He had finished solidly in 4th place.
Whoever was left in the crowd offered polite claps, though Sidious knew the morning would be filled with a media circus. Still, he found himself having to mentally train himself for his upcoming interaction with the boy. If he were to act on his impulses, he would blast him with thousands upon thousands of volts of hot electricity, burning him to a crisp and starting anew.
He took a deep breath and reeled it in, taking a sip of his drink before forcing a smile onto his face when he saw the exhausted boy slump into the first chair offered to him. Madame Nema began to assess any physical damage on the boy as he drank the water that Windu handed to him.
“How are you feeling, Anakin?” Professor Tahl asked kindly.
“I’m fine,” He said with a long face.
At least the little twerp had the decency to feel guilt for wasting all of their time.
Sidious resisted the urge to roll his eyes and nodded encouragingly, “You performed most admirably, Anakin. You have truly showcased your determination and fortitude when tasked with difficult situations.”
“But I lost,” He said.
No shit .
“Those riddles were incredibly trying. I, myself, found it difficult to answer them from the audience.” He said, having to pinch the side of his leg while he spoke to keep himself from cackling out in mockery.
“Really?” He looked up at him with hopeful eyes, “You haven’t… Given up on me?”
“Never, my boy.” He said, adding a hand to his shoulder to further imprint trust onto him. Someday, it will become worth it. He had to have faith in his own aspirations and senses.
“Everyone’s gonna be making fun of me for this forever,” He groaned, rubbing his temples.
“Well, they’d be fools to do so,” Windu said, “The only people with any standing are those that have been in your shoes. Have any of them been in your shoes?”
“Literally or physically?” Anakin asked.
Windu sighed, “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He shrugged, “I just really didn’t want this to be the biggest thing everyone talked about all week. Not like this.”
Sidious opened his mouth to speak again, quite unsure what random piece of dribble was going to come out in the tones of support, but was promptly interrupted by a loud screech over the announcement. Everyone clutched at their ears to shield themselves from the cacophonous technical difficulty, and Sidious was truly wondering if the universe was trying to give him a migraine that day.
“I SEE THE BABY!” An indistinctly pitchy voice shouted into the mic.
Everyone turned, looking every which way to see what was pointed out to them, until a spotlight on an empty row of chairs revealed none other than the missing Rotta the Hutt, who rocked back and forth on his own, sucking on the tip of his tail.
Sidious felt his blood go cold and it was as though the remaining crowd evaporated and it was just him, experiencing an out of body sense of anger that he wasn’t sure he’d felt before. He was shaking, surely, as he saw yet another plan slip between the cracks in his fingers that his lackeys were supposed to seal. He asked for so little. He gave them so much. And this was what he got?
Ziro looked just as confused- his big fat tongue flopping outside of his mouth as it had surely dried out from the shock. He did a terrible job masking this with joy at “finding” his missing nephew. Those around him smiled and cheered in relief, while some were baffled and speculative, like Yoda and Windu, but Sidious just kept his jaw hinged closed. Otherwise, he was certain he’d spit fire.
“What a miracle!” Shaak Ti gasped.
“Oh, he is cute,” Nala Se smiled as she picked up the little Huttlet. “No wonder you were so worried about him, Headmaster Ziro.”
“I think he’s got your… Eyes?” Suggested Plo Koon unhelpfully.
“Yes… Yes… We are… Blessed.” Ziro exchanged an uneasy look with Gunray. “It would seem our threats worked.”
“Or perhaps, the child had truly just been lost.” Offered Professor Mundi.
“Surely, you aren’t planning on simply forgetting that a crime was committed here?” Argued Gunray and if it were possible for his face to turn red amidst the hard gray hue his skin took on, it would have. “This child was kidnapped for over a month and we intend on finding the perpetrator.”
“Indeed,” Minister Valorum said, “Though we are relieved in his safety, the investigation cannot end yet.”
“I still believe it was someone at Hogwarts,” Ziro said.
“There are no claims for such a thing. All schools are present right now,” Windu said darkly, “So, I recommend you keep your baseless theories to yourself for now.”
Gunray looked upwards in the stands, casting a hand to try and provide shade to see who had been standing in the box. Clearly, whatever “vigilante” had done this was purposeful in their anonymity.
“Up there!” He said, “That’s surely where the perpetrator is!”
He noticed a quick apparition on the opposite end of the stadium- a man dressed completely in black- likely ready to face whatever punishment awaited him. Sidious tightened his hands in his robes to the point of cutting off circulation. He’d all but forgotten about his previous aggression towards Skywalker and to his credit, the boy seemed relieved to have all attention off of him for once.
“Stay here, Anakin.” He managed to say, “I believe we have a mystery to solve.”
“Okay.” He said, and it was a decent indicator that the boy was both discouraged and tired, for he actually listened and remained in his seat.
“Why don’t you watch some of the highlights?” With the flourish of his wand, he replayed Anakin’s defeat as well as Obi-Wan’s victory. If he could create a bit more animosity from the situation, that would at least be a slight victory.
They raced up the steps and down towards the towers where bright lights were cast over the aerial view of the invisible maze below. Workers already began to magically disassemble it in bits, not wanting to create more of a mess in the process, but none of the professors paid much mind to them.
The booth was empty, a rolling chair still spinning slightly from someone launching themselves up and away rather aggressively.
He looked across at the remaining students and family members down below, each likely chattering about their own theories regarding the disappearance. Rotta’s face was being plastered all over projections where Anakin’s loss had been for only moments. He nearly scowled when he noted that Kenobi was off talking to Skywalker, likely trying to wedge himself even more into the boy’s life.
A waste.
Meanwhile, Kenobi’s friends were off to the side- Cody Fett having rejoined the picture, blowing an obnoxiously large pink bubble as the two talked. Kryze’s expression was that of deep interest, which sharply contrasted her earlier fading consciousness.
He wished he could end them all, right here, with the snap of his fingers.
Still, all of them being there at once was a tight squeeze and near impossible, so Sidious had waited while the Minister of Magic as well as the Headmasters looked around before he actually entered the physical spectator’s booth. As they had already reported, aside from the dwindling movement, there was no other indication that someone had been present in the booth.
Except…
Sidious lifted his shoe ever so slightly, not wanting to give way to anyone else what he found. It wasn’t as though it would hold any meaning to them anyway.
So, when they all departed, he bent down, swiftly picking up what anyone else would believe to be pure rubbish, and glowered at the crumbled up bubblegum wrapper in the palm of his hand.
He turned over his shoulder, looking down at Kenobi’s friends once again and finding Fett, thinking back to the fact that Yoda had received an anonymous tip that the child might have been held at Ninety-Nine’s house.
He narrowed his eyes and squeezed the wrapper with all his might, until his knuckles were bone white, “That… Was a big mistake.”
And he would find space for revenge for it. Someday.
“Anakin!” Obi-Wan called as he jogged over to where Anakin sat still stewing and drinking the water given to him by the now-gone professors. He looked exhausted as anyone who performed for several consecutive hours would be, but regardless, he needed to check on him. It had been a bit tough to watch the task end as it did, but he was just grateful Anakin made it.
“Your parents already confirmed that I’m alright,” He said wearily. “I’m going back to the castle and to bed.”
“That’s probably for the best,” He said. “I can walk you there.”
“I don’t need an escort,” He said.
“I know you don’t need one, but it never hurts to have a bit of company.” Obi-Wan shrugged casually, like he wasn’t presently concerned that he’d missed a dementor or two and that Anakin might get attacked on his way back to the castle. Stranger things had happened in the past few years, so it wasn’t a far leap.
Anakin frowned, “I saw the highlights of the task. You answered yours so easily.”
“Yes, well, I wouldn’t say easily- ” Obi-Wan had always tried to shoot for humility, even in his more successful moments, but especially when he was speaking to someone who hadn’t performed as well.
“-I would.” He said. “Don’t you think that’s a little weird?”
“Not really. I knew the material.” He said.
“Yeah, and I thought I did too.” Anakin said.
“In all fairness, you haven’t learned most of this coursework yet.” Obi-Wan offered with a shrug, “Personally, I think you did well for someone at such a disadvantage in age and experience.”
“Wow, that makes me feel so much better.” He scowled, his fringe getting in his eyes. It was getting unruly again, even if shorter than usual still, but it suited his current mood of frustration. It was one that Obi-Wan could actually identify very well, as he’d often felt self-doubt and irritation throughout his Hogwarts career.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound condescending,” He said, “Very few would have been able to last as long as you did.”
“Shame that wasn’t the point,” He kicked once at the dirt, scuffing Obi-Wan’s shoes whether intentionally or on purpose, “And don’t act like you were impressed by me.”
“What do you-”
“-I saw the highlights. I saw you mouthing the riddle answers and practically ripping your hair out when I didn’t get them.” He spat, “I think you knew the answers ahead of time.”
“I didn’t-”
“-And those dementors just happened to show up in the end?” Anakin asked, voice growing louder as he began to unleash the tension that was built up in his shoulders, “You can’t even do that! I’ve seen you!”
“Surprisingly, I don’t have all the answers,” Obi-Wan frowned, furrowing his own brow, “But trust me, it wasn’t by choice to face a hoard of dementors. And for your information, I did do perform the patronus spell.”
He was quite tired of people doubting him on that front, much less Anakin.
“Please, you were jealous of my victory! You couldn’t stand that I did better than you in the first task! You were trying so hard to come up with cheating accusations and all!” He crossed his arms and turned his body as though rejecting Obi-Wan completely.
“I wonder where you got that theory,” He sighed tiredly, remembering that his parents had gotten to him first. Admittedly, this had been one of Obi-Wan’s fears about their influence. He knew it wouldn’t have been as much of a problem if he’d gone with what his parents wanted, but that was not in the equation for him.
“I can think for myself. I’m not some dummy despite what you think!” He flared. “That’s why you didn’t want to help me when that slander campaign came up! You were glad that other people thought I was dumb or hopeless.”
“Anakin, I have never thought you were stupid!” He insisted, “Or hopeless! Quite the opposite, frankly. Do I think you could stand to pay better attention in class? Or try a bit harder on your homework? Absolutely! But you don’t, because you’d rather ride on the coattails of your own natural strength versus building upon it!”
“You always nag me and talk to me like I’m a little kid who doesn’t know what I’m doing! I’ve been studying the whole time! And I’ve been doing better in school! Not that you would know that.”
“Stop it,” Obi-Wan said, “I still keep watch of your grades. You’re doing excellent in Charms despite Professor Windu’s refusal to admit as such, your Potions’ grades have shot up tremendously with some extra tutoring from Professor Palpatine, you still zone out in History of Magic and it shows, DADA is a bit of a wash this year so I’ll give you that, you’ve skipped Transfiguration three times this year despite needing it now more than ever, and Herbology is still your worst subject. It is you who is trying to rip away from me. Do not get it twisted.”
“Because you act like you have the right to tell me what’s wrong and what’s right!” He yelled, “When you don’t even know what you’re doing with your life and grades!”
“I was your mentor, Anakin, and am still a prefect and Head Boy. I assure you, it wouldn’t hurt if you occasionally opted to listen to me.” He said.
“What? You think if I’d just followed you around like a pet all year I’d get some of those riddles?” He laughed bitterly, “Because you’re so perfect.”
“I am not perfect and I never presumed to be perfect,” He placed a hand on his shoulder, “You’re tired and upset and I understand that, but do not treat me like I’m the enemy here.”
“Then don’t treat me like I’m yours to coddle!” He shook off his hand like it was on fire, “I was placed in Qui-Gon’s care, not yours! And I promise you, no matter how hard you try to act like you are, you’re no Qui-Gon Jinn and you never will be!”
The words bounced off Obi-Wan’s skin with the ruthless wind, each feeling like shards of glass making contact. And for a second, perhaps more, they just stood there, considering each other and where they could go from here. For Anakin had finally said what had been itching near the surface ever since the late Qui-Gon’s passing. It had been a gnawing insecurity that Obi-Wan had refused to think of in full.
No, he wasn’t Qui-Gon and he never would be. And really, it wasn’t as though he wanted to be him exactly. He just wanted to be able to fill that void for Anakin.
However, as the younger boy, overwhelmed by his own statement and sadness, turned and took off up the hill and towards the main gate, Obi-Wan could only stand on his own and ruminate over how horribly he’d failed.
“Thank God that’s over,” Cody puffed out an exasperated breath once the crowds dwindled down to near nothing. There were a few stragglers left including themselves, but most were far and few between. When he felt Satine’s appraising look from his profile, he turned and shrugged sheepishly, “The task, I mean.”
“Right,” She arched a brow at him, clearly not having it, “Because you couldn’t possibly be referring to Rotta the Hutt’s mysterious reappearance and subsequent reunion with his uncle.”
“Of course not.”
“That would just be ridiculous.” She said, though there was an edge to her voice that alluded to more, “You just happened to be in the restroom at the very same time the announcement of Rotta’s position was revealed and just happened to return only when the chaos of that reveal subsided a bit.”
“Er… Yes?”
“How would you of all people have possibly been in the know of where the child was in the first place,” She continued, “It’s not like you were stowing him in say, your brother’s house, for the past couple of months.”
Cody felt his jaw go slack as he gaped at her, “You knew?”
“I’d be blind not to know,” She rolled her eyes.
“What? How?” He racked his brain, trying to recall a moment where Satine might have easily been able to connect the dots where she previously hadn’t, “When?”
“Give me some credit,” She scoffed, “Baby books? The sudden desire to catch frogs? Your overall squirminess about the subject? It didn’t take long for me to put the pieces together.”
“I guess they don’t call you Head Girl for nothing,” He laughed weakly.
She didn’t seem as impressed with that as she normally did, “Not to mention, you told me in your sleep when you passed out whilst studying.”
“Blast,” He muttered, “I thought Fives was just messing with me when he said I do that.”
“Yes, you’re a bit of an open book I’m afraid.”
“What about him? Does he know?” He nodded towards where Kenobi was off to the side talking to Anakin, their faces very serious as they discussed TriWizard business.
She looked over at Kenobi, a natural softness in her eyes as she stared at him from across the way. However, she still maintained stern composure, “I’d be surprised if he wasn’t at least close. I think he definitely knows it’s related to the Hutts. After tonight, I’m sure he’s received all the confirmation he needs.”
“Tahl said no one would notice.” He muttered.
“You were working with Professor Tahl?” She asked.
“You didn’t have that bit figured out too, detective?” He retorted.
“You failed to mention that in your sleep.” She rebuked evenly, “Why was she involved?”
“That’s where Rex originally found the little guy.” Cody explained, “But she didn’t do it. Or at least, I don’t think she did.”
“I see,” She pinched her chin, an act that mimicked Kenobi almost perfectly, though she wasn’t even trying to be funny, “Well, that narrows it down by one mysterious character.”
“Wait a second,” He started, narrowing his eyes at her, “If you knew, then why did you continue to let me go through the motions as if you didn’t know? I was losing sleep over lying to you lot!”
“Because there’s one thing I couldn’t figure out,” She said with an appraising glare, “And that’s why you felt it necessary to lie to us in the first place. I respected your space and didn’t push you on it, because despite this, I still trust you. However, I really don’t see why Ben and I needed to be kept in the dark at all.”
“Don’t you think he’s got enough going on?” He asked, “I mean, jeeze, Satine, there’s already a mystery of who’s trying to kill him going about! Plus the bullshit with his parents and Anakin being in the tournament? I know I couldn’t just tell you without bringing him into it too.”
“Because it’d be wrong not to tell him, Cody!” She shook her head, “We’re stronger when we all work together, as corny as that may sound. Besides, have you ever stopped to think that maybe this thing with Rotta could be related to who is trying to sabotage Ben?”
Cody hadn’t thought about that and as he did, the fuel behind his own arguments deflated tremendously.
“Look, I just didn’t want to cause even more of a burden on you guys if we were all caught. Can you imagine the media circus that would cause?” He asked. “I mean, the press was trying to accuse Kenobi of hating Hogwarts because his pin fell off his sweater that one time. They’re ruthless!”
“And you thought that only one of us can bring media mayhem upon Ben at once?” She smirked, the first trace of a truce on some level.
“I thought that was a justified act of protest.” He teased.
“A kiss is a kiss,” She echoed his words from earlier and tilted her head at him, “Regardless of what’s happening in life and how hard it is, let’s just promise to be real with each other. Because the fact still remains that Rotta’s kidnapper is still out there somewhere.”
“Likely somewhere close,” He nodded. “And yeah, I can get on board with that.”
“Because it’s the right thing to do or because you’re a dreadful liar?” She asked.
“I never took you as the sort to kick people while they were down,” He said.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad that Rotta was in the right hands with you guys. That was the main reason I didn’t intervene as well.” She patted his arm, “You Fetts all have ample experience with babies.”
“Except Rex. We probably could have used the help with all the nappies that kid goes through,” He grimaced, thinking back on the memory of the pile up of dirty diapers that they had to spell away.
“Sounds like I dodged a bullet then,” She laughed. “Maybe I should rescind my pledge of honesty.”
“Oh hell no,” He grinned, “You’re stuck with the whole truth and nothing but the truth. For instance, I dunno if those earrings suit your-”
“-Let’s keep some things to ourselves, hm?”
“Fair enough. Still, I’m going to miss the little guy,” He said, glancing up to the upper level stands where Ziro held his baby nephew. “I’m glad we were able to get him back safe though.”
“Not ready to be a dad yet, hm?” She asked.
“I think I have fun uncle written all over me,” He clarified.
“I can vouch for that,” She looped an arm through his as they walked over to Kenobi, who now stood alone and brooding, something that wasn’t completely different from usual, though rare for the past month or so.
“I think we’re due for damage control,” Cody said.
“I think you’re right.” Satine agreed.
Satine hadn’t gotten much sleep, the excitement of the tournament and Ben’s win were still spinning in her head as she stared up at the top of her canopy bed. So it was a rare morning when she was up before the sun and down in the common room with her hands full of books. There was something she’d yet to talk to Ben about, and really she would have too.
She was pretty sure, but couldn’t be expressly confident, that he’d performed wordless magic in his run in with the dementors. Now casting a nonverbal spell certainly wasn’t unheard of. They were supposed to have covered the theoretical just last year, though with the Maul attack she was sure no one had bothered to do the reading. Now the practical side of things? Well it wasn’t just any witch or wizard who could perform such a feat.
You had to be disciplined, concentrated, and have a powerful control on your own magic. Magic was, as Satine would describe it, like an ocean living inside your very soul. Chaotic and out of control until you learned to hone it. Honing it with spoken word made it easiest. Controlling it without was like wishing for a wave not to crash. She had tried it herself only twice. The first time she’d barely managed to levitate a pencil a few centimeters before she had to break the spell. An excess of magic exerted that left her exhausted and she’d gone to take a nap. The second it had exploded in her face, embarrassingly literally. Bo Katan had made fun of her for a week.
She was sure she had the capability to master such a thing someday, but it would need a lot of work, just as it had been to learn the spells in the first place. It was similar to how Qui-Gon had struggled with wandless magic. He was talented at bringing things to him, but hadn’t mastered much else. Because a wand, like words, was a vessel, a channel. Somewhere and something to focus on while you manage exactly how much of your own ocean of magic you let out into the world and in what form. Without words you had to be focused and without a wand you had to be careful .
And if what Satine saw at the second task was correct, Obi-Wan Kenobi had used wordless magic without so much as batting an eye.
She’d always believed in him, she had, but to master something so difficult, on a spell of that caliber without even flinching? It was unlike anything Satine had seen from any of her peers.
So she was here, wand in hand and textbook in her lap, reading and waiting. And like she suspected, Ben often rose before the sun. The door to the boys dormitory creaked open and a sleepy looking Ben shuffled out. He was dressed in only his white button up and slacks, but the bag he was carrying likely held the other pieces of his uniform. He blinked in shock as he took in Satine, staring at him from over the couch.
“Satine-”
“Silencio!” Satine jumped on her chance, wand pointing forcefully, but like she’d been considering; the words channeled her magic and just enough was released from her wand and flew across the room until it slammed into Ben who looked very awake now as well as entirely surprised.
He opened his mouth, her name shaped by his lips, but his expression grew irritated as he realized she had in fact got him.
“Good you’re awake,” Satine waved him over and really he had no choice, but to listen to her.
He opened his mouth again before crossing his arms, frustrated.
“Yes, yes,” She waved him off, “Now!” She clapped her hands together, “You know the counter spell?”
He opened his mouth again before snapping his jaw shut with a click and nodding.
“Wonderful!” She looked up at him through her lashes, “Do it.”
They stared at each other, Ben quite incredulously and Satine just a tad stern.
He gestured to his mouth before waving his hand around and Satine just rolled her eyes.
“Oh you can do it,” She eyed him, as she started tidying up her things, “Just don’t think so much about it.” She wasn’t looking at him while she said it so he stomped his foot to get her attention.
He was giving her a look, but she ignored it. He started rummaging around in his bag and eventually pulled out a bit of parchment, but she shook her head.
“I’m heading out, may as well start my patrol a little early,” She hummed, “Unless you have something to say about the matter.”
He scribbled across the parchment with a fury she hadn’t seen from him in a written sense. She supposed he didn’t often write while he was annoyed. He flipped the parchment and Satine skimmed it quickly.
“Satine this is ridiculous, what is this about?” It was written sloppily, exceedingly rare from Ben and she almost laughed, but she just stood up and gave him one last look over her shoulder.
“You can solve this I’m sure,” And then she let herself disappear down the stairwell.
If Obi-Wan was anything he was confused. He’d finally had a good night's sleep now that the second task was behind him. His fight with Anakin was still on his mind as was his patronus and incredible win. He would have had an odd day before, but now he’d walked right into Satine who had determined that he would be silenced whether he liked it or not.
She was acting odd, but not like he’d done something to warrant the behavior. So at least he knew he was still in her good graces. But now he was forced to live the day in silence until either someone took mercy on him or the charm itself wore off. Satine, however, was a powerful witch. She was talented and strong and a spell from her wasn’t likely to wear off until lunch at the earliest.
Still he had little choice, but to go ahead and get ready.
It was a school morning, so once he had showered and was properly dressed he headed towards the great hall. It was still too early for them to start serving breakfast, but he’d been there early before and they never seemed to mind. The halls were empty, but he still half expected (and hoped) he’d run into Satine on patrol, maybe he could wrestle a real explanation out of her before she squirmed away.
“Kenobi!” Or perhaps his day would only get worse.
Hondo was waving at him, very exaggerated from his pop-up merch booth that he had set up in a place that should have been inconspicuous, but really wasn’t. The bright colors and smell of cheap plastic should have really given him away before he himself had.
“Wonderful to see you my friend!” Hondo continued on as Obi-Wan begrudgingly walked over, “Look here, look here!” Hondo flapped his hand around at a few seemingly new Hondo products. Lots of new merch for him and his previous win, even one replica of his new wand that boasted that it could produce a fake phoenix patronus. He had to admit that would have come in handy with his parents.
“So what do you think?” Hondo bounced on his toes eagerly. Obi-Wan found his attention drawing to the document sitting right in front of Hondo. Obi-Wan frowned, it looked like Hondo owed people money, which seemed to never be the case with the weequay no matter how much swindling he did, “Stunned speechless?” Hondo cackled, “You would be my friend, it is no trouble! Hondo’s been up all night perfecting his merch-” Obi-Wan shook his head hard and pointed towards the document with a skeptical look.
Hondo followed his gaze before grinning wickedly, “Oh hoho! So you wanted to know who won? You sly dog,” Hondo slapped a hand on his shoulder, “Really held out for someone huh? I don’t know who bribed you, but it clearly worked!”
Obi-Wan shook his head, and although Hondo looked at him a second too long, he did seem to figure out that Obi-Wan hadn’t a clue what he was talking about.
“The betting pool!” Hondo held it up and waved it in the air, “And your fiery passion from yesterday, oh boy!” Hondo held up the daily prophet in his other hand, the front page was the picture of him and Satine outside the champions tent. Satine in the photo kissed him passionately, over and over and over. He took the paper from Hondo, trying to keep a blush down while also feeling a little lightheaded at the reminder of what had happened.
“Yeah people have bet you’d end up with Kryze forever!” Hondo continued on, “Then bam! Your thing with Ventress. Hondo couldn’t believe it! How juicy! No one thought it would take this long though, we started betting second year you know.”
‘Second year,’ He tried to say, but no words came out. Hondo seemed to get it anyway.
“Hard to believe, right? You both took your sweet time! But now that it’s public, Hondo’s got winnings to dish out!” Obi-Wan grabbed the sheet to get a better look. There were so many names listed it was dizzying. People really had been betting on his love life ? He needed to tell Satine, they could punish these students surely right? Underage betting, wasn’t that illegal? Or was that just his own wishful thinking? He’d always believed such a thing only playfully existed with the Fetts as a joke.
“Well back to work!” Hondo took the list out of his hands, and pulled out his quill. Still the names were printed in Obi-Wan’s mind forever. Bail and Eeth had been on there, neither had won. Aayla and Stass had been close. It was all quite embarrassing. Obi-Wan opened his mouth to retort, to take points from Slytherin, anything really. Nothing came out though so Obi-Wan was forced to take the stolen prophet and stalk away.
He decided to step outside to cool off. It was an average day, a little chilly, but considering he’d been out in it just the night before it wasn’t much to worry about. He kept his cloak fastened around his neck and found himself wandering the edge of the forbidden forest. It was funny, in all his time at Hogwarts, he’d rarely stepped foot inside. It was against the rules of course, but that never stopped anyone.
“What do we have here?” Obi-Wan jumped spinning around, but relaxed at the kind face smiling at him from the trees.
Obi-Wan opened his mouth again before remembering and instead raised his hand in a wave.
“What brings you out here so early?” Ninety Nine approached, and Obi-Wan fumbled for a bit of parchment and a quill.
‘Satine charmed me,’ He wrote, gesturing to his throat.
“I can see that,” Ninety Nine pointed smugly to the prophet still in his hands. Obi-Wan felt his face heat up and he quickly tucked the prophet into his robe pocket.
‘I mean more literally,’ Though he wasn’t going to deny it.
“I can see that,” The groundskeeper laughed, “And why is that?”
‘I don’t know,’ He wrote out his frustrations, ‘She asked me if I knew the counter curse and that I’d figure it out.’
“And? Have you figured it out?” Ninety Nine asked.
‘I haven’t a clue,’ Obi-Wan frowned bitterly. He’d completed a whole task of riddles and yet Satine still managed to stump him.
“Ah no matter, I’m sure you can solve it,” Ninety Nine shrugged. Obi-Wan moved to respond, but then leaped back at the sudden appearance of wide blue eyes appearing right over Ninety Nine’s shoulders. He pointed a finger at it quite quickly and the creature ducked back, eyes disappearing once more.
“Now come on,” Ninety Nine gave him a warning look, “No need to startle him.”
‘That’s a demiguise,’ Obi-Wan scribbled quickly. He had a lot to say on the matter, but it was much longer by pen than it would have been by mouth. Demiguise were rare, exceedingly. A creature that was so hard to catch that it was considered a level 4 not from the aspect of danger, but by its difficulty to find.
“A young one,” Ninety Nine reached back and gently took the creature, though it was still very much invisible, into his arms and looked down on it with a soft smile that brought it out from hiding again, “Oh I see,” He smiled at it and gave Obi-Wan a knowing look, “He was only trying to look into the future and see if you would solve your problem, no need to be rude.”
Obi-Wan looked away thoroughly chastised, maybe it was a good thing he had been silenced. He might have scared the thing off if he’d been able to speak, ‘And do I solve it?’
“Who knows,” Ninety Nine shrugged and the creature just looked at him with wide, careful eyes, “Have you studied these yet? I know you’re in Care of Magical Creatures.”
‘I’m behind,’ Obi-Wan felt sour in admitting it, ‘I would have learned about them last year.’
“Well what good timing then,” Ninety Nine let the creature climb back onto his shoulders and waved Obi-Wan to follow him. They walked in relative silence through the trees until they must have been near the back of Ninety Nine’s hut. They made it to an odd sort of clearing, but it had clearly seen a wizard's hand with several small structures hanging from the trees or built near the ground. Maybe not a wizard's hand, Obi-Wan ran his fingers along a piece of wood that had certainly been cut the muggle way, by a certain squib. He couldn’t help, but smile. Of course Ninety Nine would have wanted to create homes for the various creatures in the forest, and clearly they liked him well enough too.
Several creatures were peering out at them from hidey holes and although they seemed wary of him they didn’t seem to be wary of their caretaker.
“Come, come,” Ninety Nine beckoned him over to where he sat himself on a fallen log. Obi-Wan followed suit and soon found himself being handed a carefully guided demiguise. Eyes lit up as if making sure that this interaction would go smoothly.
“I call him Ayzee,” The creature’s eyes dimmed as it realized it would be safe in Obi-Wan’s hands and he felt himself being extra careful, “Found him wounded out here, but he seemed worried I was there to trap him,” Ninety Nine shook his head, “Course it only took some patience, sitting near him for awhile so he could get the energy to look into the future enough to trust me. Been my pal ever since.”
Obi-Wan tilted his head. With his hands full he couldn’t write anything, but he found himself wondering just what or where this creature had been hurt by.
“Here,” Ninety Nine lifted a bit of fur on its leg and Obi-Wan could see a scar, red and ugly, still healing. Obi-Wan looked over at him in surprise, but Ninety Nine laughed, “Wondering how I knew what you were wondering? I spend a lot of time with those who cannot speak back to me,” He gestured around the area at each set of eyes watching them carefully, “I think I know what to look for.”
“So let’s see,” Ninety Nine ran a hand along the creature's head, “I know you’ve likely already read about the Demiguise, but let me tell you about it a bit more practically…”
Ninety Nine ran through quite a lot with him. Everything from the magical properties of their fur to the food it quite liked to eat. And though it was true that, yes, Obi-Wan had read about them before, Ninety Nine never talked down to him, never spoke to him like he knew more even though Obi-Wan was quite certain by this point that he did. It ended up being a quiet peaceful morning and Obi-Wan felt his heart melt as he realized Ayzee had fallen asleep in his arms.
“Look at that,” Ninety Nine grinned, “He trusts ya.”
And it was a good feeling, a warm feeling. Reminded him a bit of how it felt to be surrounded in the light of his patronus.
“You look like you’re thinking,” Ninety Nine prompted, scooping the creature out of his hands so Obi-Wan could fumble with his parchment.
‘Thank you for the lesson. I think I’ve got to go finish another one now,’ A theory was starting to burn in his mind, but he wasn’t sure it could be. Maybe he was making things up again.
“Come back and see me again and I’ll tell you about some of the other creatures here,” Obi-Wan found himself nodding vigorously. He would absolutely be back.
When he entered the Great Hall his heart was starting to beat a bit wildly, but he kept himself schooled carefully as he sat down across from Satine and Cody who were arguing about whether or not they should serve tuna at breakfast.
“Good, Ben,” Satine turned her heated look on him, “Tell Cody I’m right-”
“Tell Satine,” Cody interrupted, “That I wasn’t planning to eat it. Only that options are good!”
He didn’t respond, even if he could, just shooting a pointed look at Satine who seemed to catch on and deflated a bit.
“Oh,” She frowned, “You couldn’t get it?”
“Get what?” Cody looked between the two of them as he shoveled eggs onto his plate.
In lieu of answering he just slipped his wand from his robe. Satine raised an eyebrow and Cody paused. He thought for a moment, although he really needn’t have. The second the counter spell crossed his mind he could feel the magic bubbling up towards his wand. He tapped his wand with a bit of care to his cheek and he felt the spell over him break immediately. Satine must have felt the effects of her magic shattering because she sat up much straighter and was looking at him in surprise.
“I figured it out,” He said, his voice finally managing to be released.
“Oh my god,” Satine seemed like she was at a loss for words, simply staring at him with wide eyes. Cody seemed to slowly be filling in the blanks and turned an interested gaze on him.
“Did you just-” Cody asked slowly, his breakfast forgotten for a moment.
“Oh my god,” Satine repeated, fumbling for her own wand.
“Oh no you don’t,” Obi-Wan frowned, “Expelliarmus,” Satine’s wand flipped out of her hand and landed in the syrup. He winced, that hadn’t been his exact intent, “Er, sorry, I’ve spent long enough being stuck silent today.”
“But Ben,” She didn’t seem bothered, just plucked her wand out of the syrup and wiped it on a napkin, “If this is true, if you can do wordless magic-”
“That’s awesome!” Cody cut in, “I don’t think even my dad can do that-”
“You’ll have to practice,” Satine was continuing, “But I don’t think I’ve ever seen-”
“You haven’t been holding out on us?” Cody prompted leaning over the table, “You don’t seem as surprised.”
“I am surprised,” Obi-Wan answered honestly, “I’m surprised, but I’m not shocked.”
“So you have done it before!” Satine stood then gathering a little too much attention so she sat back down again, but her excitement had yet to fade, “When? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t realize it until today,” He looked down at his wand, “I didn’t realize it last night either.”
“When?” Satine practically begged, he was sure she was dying to put together some kind of timeline.
“Before I got this wand,” He began, long winded as always, “Magic was a lot harder. I had thought it was simply the way things were, but there was one moment where we did connect and I was able to perform a spell before it had even left my lips.”
“Yes and?” Satine had produced a parchment and a quill.
“When I saw-” He changed course, “My fight with Maul.”
If it was possible for the whole room to freeze, but the three of them, it felt like it had. Satine paused, looking up at him stiffly while Cody crossed his arms. He hadn’t really talked about it with them, not really. He never wanted to think about that yellow eyed killer or Qui-Gon…
“I couldn’t think, I just saw Maul and Qui-Gon…” He couldn’t say it so he continued, “It was like my wand knew, like my mind knew, we were together and we moved as one,” He shrugged, “For a few precious seconds it was like I could cast anything I needed to cast.”
“Anyways then I went and got this wand,” He held it up and looked at it, it still made his heart sing in a way that his old wand never had. A missing piece of his soul, an extension of himself, “I’d never felt a connection like that before, ever. It was like I hardly needed to say the words and it would read them straight from my mind. I thought perhaps it would fade with time, the feeling like it was jumping the gun, but I’m starting to wonder… And then the thing with the dementors…”
“All this time,” Satine said in a hushed voice, her eyes held the same whimsy they often did when she learned a new thing about the magical world, “You trained with a wand that wanted nothing to do with you and now that you finally have one that connected with you…”
“It’s like it’s nothing, easy,” Cody finished for her. The awe in his friends' voices definitely sent his mind reeling back to the same feeling he felt when he released his patronus amongst the dementors. A deeply thrumming pride that ran through his veins and synced with his heart.
“I’m sure it’s not so easy,” He murmured, although now he sort of was itching for a go. Maybe he should have let Satine blast him, “It’s always best to practice.”
“You Ravenclaws and your bloody practicing,” Cody rolled his eyes. What Obi-Wan didn’t expect was for Cody to raise his own wand suddenly, “Confrigo!”
It was a moment of a calm sort of panic. Obi-Wan’s hand shot out and flicked up his wand deflecting Cody’s blasting curse which lit up the air over their heads like fireworks. Obi-Wan and Cody stared at each other with wide eyes.
“Cody! Are! You! Daft?!” Satine screeched, they had the attention of nearly the entire Great Hall now. It was a good thing it wasn’t particularly busy yet, “Are you trying to kill him?!”
“Oh mate,” Cody grinned, shaking his head, and ignoring Satine far too easily, “No wonder you got picked for this bloody tournament.”
Obi-Wan was struck speechless, but this time not by a spell, but instead by his own skill. His wand seemed to emit a sort of glowy feeling, mirroring his pride back to him as if it were to say. All you ever had to do was try.
“Ah Satine, dear?” He looked up at her, dopey smile still on his face, but he needed to intervene before his girlfriend inevitably turned Cody into a toad, “Did you know Hondo has been holding a betting pool on us?”
And whatever happened to Hondo? Surely it would be karma, but at least he wouldn’t have to transfigure his best mate out of an amphibian so early in the morning.
“Are you planning on reading all night?” Quinlan’s groggy voice interrupted Ventress’ research from where he lay beside her. Sneaking to the belly of Durmstrang’s ship had proven itself easier than she would have suspected. Now that Ziro was especially distracted with Rotta’s return, he wasn’t as present as he once was.
While she vowed not to align herself with losers, she’d still found herself going to him that night of the second task, regardless of his mediocre performance. He was better at other things, after all, and she’d be a liar to say that his warm arms weren’t tempting.
“If that’s what it takes to find that symbol, then yes,” She said, running a finger along the pages. Convincing her mother to send a copy of the book had taken some careful persuasion. She didn’t want her to know what she was looking into, but it was easy enough to convince her that it was for Gunray’s useless class. Anyone would believe that.
“And you really think it’s going to be in there?” He asked, throwing an arm over his eyes. Surprisingly, Quinlan wore more clothing to sleep than he did during waking hours. She didn’t pretend to understand him.
“I’ve seen it before,” She insisted and then gave him a sidelong glance, “Should I research elsewhere?”
“No, by all means, please continue to interrupt my beauty sleep,” He grinned, “Some of us need it, after all.”
“If that’s your attempt at goading me into saying you don’t, you’ll need to try harder,” She retorted, flipping the page before her eyes lit up, “Here it is!”
Quinlan sat up, the sheets rustling beneath him as he did. It was lucky he had his own room on the ship. Durmstrang recognized his prowess from the start and opted to give their champion some space in case he needed the room for workouts. Or in their case, extracurricular activities.
He read over her shoulder, dark eyes scanning the page, “This is in latin.”
She rolled her eyes, “And they say you’re all looks, no brains.”
“What does it say?” He prodded.
“This symbol was once used by many high ranking families in the former Naboo sector, showcasing wealth and prosperity and was a sign of status. Unlike most dead crests, this was not lost due to death without lineage, but because of the negative associations with the practice of dark magic. It was last seen worn during the final TriWizard Tournament.”
“Wait, what?” Quinlan blinked, any bleariness instantly gone as he considered what this would mean, “So, the Sith basically used to wear it until they got had.”
“At the last TriWizard tournament, there was a murder,” Ventress said thoughtfully, “And this doesn’t say who wore it.”
“As always, more questions than answers,” He sighed before laying back down, “Do you think the Sith killed your sisters?”
“Without a doubt, they were involved,” She said, still holding the book tightly, before returning to another book she’d asked her mother to send under different pretenses. This was a photo album from her childhood. She hadn’t ever dared to look at it, seeing as she never believed it accurately reflected her upbringing. Wrapped in a burgundy cloak as a little baby was Ventress, herself, likely when she was dropped at her parents’ doorsteps. However, as she looked closer, she noticed the pin that clipped the fabric together.
It was the symbol.
“And they weren’t the only ones,” She said coldly, before sinking beneath the covers and accepting Quinlan’s embrace. The colors of those robes were eerily familiar. A family she knew quite well wore them with pride. All but one, anyway.
“No matter, we’ll get them,” He yawned, “Together.”
