Bab 119: Doubts
|Harry woke up with a headache, he rubbed his scar and to his relief the pain wasn't coming from there. Then he remembered the chaos of the last few days, the goblet of fire, the champion selection.
"My name coming out of the damn goblet!" He grunts and looks at Ron's bed, the canopy curtains are open and the bed made. Harry looked around and saw that Neville and Seamus were still snoring in their beds. "Great, he woke up early to avoid me..."
He dresses in his school robes and goes down to the common room, luckily it's still early and most of the students are still sleeping. The bad thing is that the Creevey brothers are not among the students who are still sleeping, they both look at him from a sofa with bright eyes and pointing for him to come closer.
He didn't want to be bombarded with my questions so early in the morning so he walked quickly to the exit of the tower. As soon as he opened the door he bumped into someone, he rubbed his forehead and saw that it was Hermione.
"I'm sorry." He mumbles adjusting his glasses.
"Hello," She smiles at him and points to the stack of napkin-wrapped toast. "Good thing I didn't drop them on the ground. Want to eat breakfast while we go for a walk?"
"Good idea." Harry replied, not wanting to eat breakfast with everyone in the Great Hall.
They walked down the stairs and through the hall at a brisk pace, soon out of the castle and near the lake. As they walked in silence and ate their toast, Harry looked at where Durmstrang's ship was anchored and whistled.
"I didn't know you liked boats." Hermione looked at him with amusement in her eyes.
"Me neither." Harry confessed.
Hermione laughed and also looked at the ship.
"So this is your first ship crush." she teased him
"Ship crush?" Harry looked at her strangely. "I think you've been spending too much time with the twins."
The two look at each other for a moment before laughing.
"I know it wasn't you, Harry." Hermione looks at him seriously once she stops laughing.
"Huh?" Harry looked at her hopefully.
"You should have seen your face when Dumbledore read your name!" She smiled slightly. "But the important thing is: who did it? I think Moody was right, Harry, no ordinary student should have been able to do it... Dumbledore is one of the greatest wizards ever and the Goblet of Fire is an ancient and powerful artifact, who managed to outwit them both- That person is dangerous."
Harry looks at her appreciatively and feels a weight lift off his shoulders.
"And what does Ron think about it?"
Hermione hesitated.
"Does he still think I put my name in the goblet?" Harry looks at her intensely and she shifts her weight from one leg to another.
"Well, no... No really, I don't think so." Hermione replied awkwardly.
"What does `Not really` mean?"
"Oh, Harry! You just don't realize it." Hermione sighs and looks at him with mild exasperation. "He's jealous."
"Jealous?" Harry repeated in disbelief. "Jealous of what? Jealous that three quarters of the school hates me? That everyone thinks I'm an attention seeking jerk?"
"Look." Hermione squared her shoulders and looked at him seriously "It's always you who gets all the attention. I know it's not your fault," she hastily adds before Harry opens his mouth to protest. "I know you're not looking for it... but the fact is that Ron has a lot of brothers, he's the youngest boy and it's not like his brothers are ordinary. Bill is a very intelligent and talented wizard, Charlie is an expert in dragons, Percy is on his way to becoming a politician, the twins- Well, even with their attitudes one can't deny how smart and cunning they are. Then there's Ginny, she's the baby of the family and the only girl. Ron is always in the shadow of his siblings, and then there's you; his best friend and a very famous wizard. He's always in someone's shadow and for the most part he's put up with it without complaining, but I guess this was the last straw..."
"Great," Harry replied sourly. "Just great. Tell him I'll switch places with him anytime. Tell him I'd be delighted... He'll see what it's like when everyone stares at the scar on his forehead with their mouths open wherever he walks by... "
"I'm not going to tell him anything." Hermione crossed her arms. "Tell him, that's the only way for you to fix things."
"No!" Harry snapped, birds in a nearby tree flew up in alarm at the sudden noise. "I won't beg him to understand me. Maybe he'll change his mind when he sees that I didn't ask for any of this, when they break my neck or maybe I get crushed by a basilisk or maybe I get eaten by a-"
"That's not funny!" Hermione looked at him annoyed and with pain in her eyes. "Not funny at all," She lowered her eyes.
"Well maybe that would be for the best! Everyone wants me dead!" Harry regrets his words as soon as he said them, he sees the eyes of his best friend shine with tears and pain.
"That's not true and you know it!" Hermione looks up at him with teary eyes and runs off.
Harry holds up a hand and opens his mouth but no words come out. He sees his friend run away towards the castle and makes a face.
"Great, just great." Harry walks over to the tree and slumps against the trunk. "Now you did it Potter."
"I don't think it was entirely your fault." A familiar voice makes him jump away from the tree, he looks around and sees no one.
"Am I hearing things?" Harry runs a hand over his eyes. "This day is getting better and better."
He hears soft giggles and a voice says:
"Up here."
Harry looks at the tree and on one of the branches he sees Lucielle sitting.
"What are you doing up there?" Harry finally says after opening and closing his mouth several times.
"Enjoying the views," She points toward the lake. "Do you want to join me?"
The wizard hesitates for a moment before nodding, when he approaches the trunk of the tree to start climbing it he feels how his body begins to float. He looks up at Lucielle and sees her silver eyes shining.
`Wandless magic?`
Luciella leaves him on the same branch she's sitting on and smiles mischievously at him.
"It's faster this way."
"Are all Beauxbatons students capable of doing that?" The perspective is not encouraging, Harry is not only three years younger than the other champions, he is also the one with the least knowledge about spells.
"No," she laughs amusedly, as if she found the notion very humorous. "I think I'm the only one."
"Why aren't you the Beauxbatons champion?" Harry blurts out, his eyes widening and he starts babbling. "I'm just saying- Well, I think the goblet was wrong. Err. Wandless magic is super advanced and well-"
Lucielle places a finger on his lips, silencing him. Harry feels his cheeks heat up and swallows hard.
"Your words are very kind, Harry." Seeing that she's not upset, Harry looks up to see those silver orbs glowing with warmth. "The goblet did not choose me because it could not."
"Could not?" He looked at her strangely. "How so?"
"I didn't put my name in the goblet," She looks at him with a mischievous smile and puts a finger to her lips. "Let this be our secret."
Harry nods. All the foreign students who have come to Hogwarts were selected by their schools to compete in the tournament, not putting her name in the goblet... Harry is sure Madam Maxime won't be happy if she finds out, and he won't say anything.
"On a more serious note: It's not your fault." Lucielle looks at him intently and Harry blinks in confusion.
"Huh?"
"The thing before with your friend." She explains and Harry remembers her previous words. "The tournament is stressful for all champions, no matter how old they are or how well prepared they are for it. Fleur has been preparing for it for months and now that she's selected she's on the verge of tearing her hair out, I'm sure Diggory and Krum must be in a similar state."
Harry finds it hard to believe, when he saw the other champions they seemed so confident and self-assured that his doubts only increased.
"When you're stressed it's normal to lose your temper more easily, and your case is worse than theirs." Lucielle looked at him sympathetically.
"Cause I am younger?" Harry asks with a bit of bitterness in his tone.
"Because you didn't choose to participate in the tournament."
Hearing her words, Harry turns his head so fast his neck cracks.
"H-how?"
"Your friend said it: When Dumbledore read your name your face said it all." She looks at him with fondness and smiles softly. "But that doesn't mean you can hurt your friends' feelings either. Make sure you apologize to Hermione when you get back to the castle." Her tone is firmer and Harry nods.
"Okay, now that that's cleared up," Lucielle sounds more lively. "Let's talk about your `ship crush`."
Harry's cheeks flush red.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of, dear." Lucielle smirks. "I must admit this ship has its beauty but you should see-"
The two continue talking about different ships and by the time it's time for lunch Harry walks into the Great Hall with a big smile, the headache from that morning forgotten. |
***
"I don't think this is a good idea."
"Arthur..." The princess rubbed her temples and looked at her husband wearily. "I know, I know."
"But Trystanne is made in his mind." Arthur finishes before his wife can continue, frustration clear in his tone. "If Trystanne continues guarding Doran the assassin might attack him there and our grandson will be in more danger than he already is."
The princess pours two glasses of wine and gives one to Arthur.
"Lothar will be watching from the clouds, Jacaerys and Manfrey will be close-"
"-we've taken all possible precautions, is that what you're going to say?" Arthur interrupts her with an annoyed glint in his eyes. "Same as you said before the duel, before our grandson faced a faceless assassin."
Dorna steps back slightly and looks at Arthur with pain in her eyes. The prince immediately regrets his words and looks down in shame.
"That wasn't your fault, I apologize for my words." He sighs and drinks the wine at once. "Obella asked us to look after her family and we failed. Doran is fighting for his life and Trystanne might be next."
"...this is a dangerous world, Arthur. We always knew that," She snorts. "The last years have softened us, we are getting old, you and me."
"Yes, no one can fight against time. Time takes and it takes until nothing remains, I wonder how much we have left." The prince opens his arms and the princess walks into his embrace.
"I don't know, what I do know is we won't go without a fight."
Arthur chuckles and strokes his wife's hair.
"Aye, I wouldn't expect anything else from you my love."
***
"Father, let's go over the plan one more time." Manfrey looked at his father with a frown.
Jacaerys sighs and pats his son on the back.
"Relax a bit, son."
"Relax?! Trystanne is putting his life in our hands and you want me to relax?" The black-haired man looks at his father in disbelief.
"It's no use if you're too tense and stressed. Don't forget Trystanne is no maiden in distress, he is the Morning Sword; the best swordsman out there. Not even a Braavosi assassin can best him in a duel."
"In a duel, those are the important words. This assassin won't challenge him to a duel, he will strike from the shadows and it doesn't matter how good a warrior Trystanne is if he doesn't see the blow coming."
The master spy rolls his eyes.
"You worry too much, son. But alright, I will humor you. Trystanne will go for a walk in Shadow City at dawn, when there are still very few people on the streets. Our men and women will be dressed as peasants in different areas of the city, watching Trystanne's every move and being ready to intervene in case of an attack. You and I will be close too, Lothar is supposed to be supervising everything but even I don't know where that elusive knight is." Jacaerys chuckles. "Lothar became quite adept at acting from the shadows in recent years, something I really did not expect. I still remember the boy who followed Trystanne everywhere, that boy only spoke of honor and justice. Manfrey, do you remember the time Lothar gave me a lecture after he caught me watching some girls skinny dipping on the beach? He couldn't have been more than 10 years old at the time." Jacaerys laughs at the memory and looks at his son.
Manfrey hums but is clearly ignoring him. The Castellan looks at the horizon, the sun has not risen yet but it will not be long before its rays illuminate the sky.
"We can't fail, not again." Manfrey remembers Doran's nearly lifeless body and clenches his fists.
Jacaerys opens his mouth to say something but he thinks better and remains silent.
***
Trystanne looks at Dawn with shadowed eyes, he runs a hand over the hilt of his sword before placing it next to his son.
"Is it wise?" Wulfric asks from the chair next to Doran's bed, he has a huge book on his lap. That book is one of many he's gone through in the last two days to find the poison the assassin used on Doran. "No Righteous Morning Sword died with Dawn in their hands."
"I know," Trystanne replied grimly. He knows, everyone knows.
Dawn is not just any sword, her fame is not only due to the white metal of her blade or the ability of her wielders.
Dawn was forged during the Age of Heroes by a legendary blacksmith who, if legends are to be believed, was the son of a god. There are many traditions surrounding the sword and its users, the most famous being the 12 rites. Twelve trials that the Morning Sword must pass before being deemed worthy of the sword.
Once a man (or woman) passes the twelve trials Dawn grants him her protection and as long as he stays on the right path and is true to his principles the sword will protect him from harm.
`No Righteous Morning Sword will die while they have Dawn in their hands` is a common saying among the Dornishmen, a true one by far. Of the hundreds of Morning Swords that existed in the last millennia, the only ones that died with Dawn in their hands were those that strayed from the path of goodness, the corrupted ones.
"It's a risk I plan to take." Trystanne looks at his son for the last time before fastening the leather breastplate, this breastplate is not just any; It was a gift from the boy who lies unconscious on the bed. The breastplate has several runes engraved on it, those runes will give him more protection than the best of steel armor. `I trust your gift to protect me, son.`
Trystanne leaves the room and walks to the elevator.
"Are you ready, ser?" He sees an eagle on a window sill looking at him with its blue eyes. The eagle nods and Trystanne steps into the elevator.
"Time to lure a rat out."
They must capture the faceless assassin alive, for they need to interrogate him about the poison. Neither Wulfric or any other healer found what poison the assassin used on Doran and time is running out.
***
NOTE: Advanced chapter in my p@ tre on if you are interested.
p a t r e o n. com /EdenofKovir
This is the last chapter with Harry-flashbacks
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