XXII/0. THE FOOL — Has your muse ever faced a high risk high reward opportunity that could potentially leave them ruined? Describe that opportunity and whether or not they took it.
Growing up the son of Henry Potter meant there was no room for failure in any aspect of Fleamont’s life –– from a young age his father had instilled the belief in him that there were two types of people in the world; those destined to LEAD, and those destined to FOLLOW.
There was no such thing as learning from one’s mistakes in the Potter Household–– at least, not for Fleamont. Before he’d ever even gotten the chance to try, his father would be just beside him, asking, reminding, demanding –– ‘ Are you going to be a leader, or are you going to be a follower? ’
It wasn’t a helpful hint so much as a preemptive reprimand.
He’d done fairly well in nearly every class during his days at Hogwarts –– at least, the ones that mattered for his future –– but it wasn’t enough. Not according to his father.
‘ Do you think they let just anyone waltz in and sit for Wizengamot, boy? Because they got a good mark reading palms, or memorized a few dozen sets of runes? Because their daddy is someone important? Are you going to be fed from this silver spoon your whole life, or are you going to get up and serve yourself like a real leader? ’
Taking eight n.e.w.t.s had been Henry’s idea. Using the Potter family heirloom –– the invisibility cloak –– to do it had also been Henry’s idea.
For the first time in his life, the blind, unquestioning respect Fleamont had always had for his father suffered, the shining image altered by spiderwebbed cracks of uncertainty and doubt . How was he supposed to be judged by his merit if he cheated? How was he supposed to strive to be a pillar of justice in his community, like his father, if his seat had been earned by lies? Had.. his father earned his place in life in such a manner? So many questions –– but he didn’t have time to sit and think it out; his future was at stake, and his father was an impatient man.
Remembering what had happened the last time he’d defied his father, Fleamont had quietly obeyed. It made his gut twist, made him fidget for weeks, ruined his appetite for a month. He took the risk, and then he took the reward that came long with his deceitful success. After all was said and done, he’d carefully folded the cloak up and placed it back in the secret compartment of his trunk, silently vowing never to use the heirloom for evil again –– no matter what his father required of him.
He’d earn his success or he wouldn’t have it at all. That was what a leader would do.
