History of the World Volume XI Chapter 2 The Rule of Turpin – Shepherds and Their Responsibility
Becoming a member of the second tier of society imbues a wizard or witch with various rights and privileges. Perhaps more importantly, responsibilities accompany any rise in station. As a second tier wizard, one shares in the responsibility for maintaining balance between all lesser beings: non-magical humans, plants, and beasts. Perhaps the most delicate and difficult to protect are the humans who lack magic, commonly referred to as Muggles. Their pride is immense considering their capabilities, and they must be humoured in many situations. For instance, if you attempt to dismantle their local government and rebuild it more efficiently, the Muggles are more likely to revolt and consequently die. Was the revolution the fault of the Muggles or the wizards and witches who were supposed to be protecting them? This same reasoning can be extrapolated for third tier wizards...
A row of tiny jade florets rested on a pad of clean yellow linen. The sun had been shining on the jade all day, baking it with energy. Now after some key hours of maturation under moonlight, the stage was set for a binding. Lily traced her slim fingers around the work space and over the jade without touching it. The unique swirling spirals of polished cloudy green stone would make perfect dragon bane charms. They were designed to discourage dragons from hunting the wizard or Muggle wearing them. These were for her family, well her sister's family. They lived in Hampstead where her husband was the town blacksmith. It was serious dragon country there, and the charms would be appreciated. Christmas was right around the corner.
Rustling around in a leather pouch, Lily took a generous pinch of ground Rince Wort and sprinkled it over the dew-dampened space. More waiting, Lily leaned back and started counting the seconds until she would need to complete the process.
What was she doing making Christmas presents before October? It wasn't in her nature to be so proactive. James had thought some medical leave was necessary after everything that happened with her false pregnancy, and she hadn't argued. She needed to rest, but not because of some small lingering physical discomfort. She had taken the time to mourn, and she'd spent every free moment making charms, cooking lovely dinners, taking volunteer shifts at the infirmary. She'd been so busy in her time off, that she was able to avoid dealing with the grief almost all the time. Then a detail would catch her the wrong way, and everything would rush to the surface. Not today though, today had been a good day, very busy.
Time to finish Lily flexed her fingers preparing to cast the spell to compete the charm, and her eyes clouded behind a sheen of tears. She had found the button to trigger a memory. Today it was her fingers. They swelled terribly the first time she was pregnant. James had brewed her dozens of different potions to help with the discomfort. He wasn't so good with a cauldron but he tried, and she drank every concoction, until she couldn’t stand it anymore and had to get something from a real healer. She never told James about going to see a healer. He just assumed it was his last potion that fixed her up. James liked to fix things.
Lily shook her head and wiped furiously at her eyes. She was not going to waste an entire day’s work because she was an emotional wreck. “Flaggin Zoeo Dracos.” Light glowed around her tear-soaked fingers, and a sparkle settled into the jade florets. She folded the linen at the corners, making a snug pouch. To touch the fresh charms would undo all her work.
Back at camp Lily walked into a beehive of activity. Tents were coming down and formations of soldiers on broomsticks were flying away with loads of goods. Semi-permanent base camp appeared to be making an unscheduled move. She didn’t bother any of the frantically working soldiers, instead heading for her home amongst the tents. There she found James putting the finishing touches on closing their conveniently mobile domicile. It folded into a neat six inch cube. “If we’re going to be on the move for long, I’m going to need to do something about the stew I had on the fire,” Lily said.
James looked her way without smiling, and she knew it was bad. His face was pale and pinched. He mustered an insincere smile and tucked their tent under his arm. “We’ve had a little security breach. I’m going on with the men, but you’re on medical leave, and I need you to head to London for me.”
"You can just take me off medical leave if it means we’re splitting up. I'm not leaving you alone," Lily said quietly. "Where are we headed anyway?"
"It isn’t what you're thinking," James said. "I need you to check on my Dad. He's very ill. I just got word. As much as I'd like to go myself, you know I can't leave right now."
"I'm sorry. Of course I'll check on your father." Lily held her arm out for one of the brooms James was carrying around. Their hands touched on the broom handle and Lily slid close for an embrace and kiss. She tilted her head back and smiled. "This is a rebellion, a military entity, not a patriarchy. If this is a game you're playing, trying to keep me out of danger, I swear I'll find a mission so stupid and reckless that Sirius wouldn't even consider it, and I'm going to sign on." Lily caressed James's cheek, a determined glint in her eyes. "Now, do you still want me to go to London?"
"More than anything in the world, love," James said. "But I'm going to miss you every second." They kissed again, a lingering lip-lock that only ended when Lily pushed away. She straddled her broom and kicked off into the sky without arguing further. As much as he loved her and would miss her, James had never been more relieved to see Lily heading away from him. If she knew what he'd seen this afternoon, she wouldn't have had to ask if he was thinking of excuses to get her out of the line of fire. She would have known it beyond any shadow of a doubt.
James used his wand to label the tent and tossed it in with a pile of goods headed to the new camp. Mounting his broom, he zoomed away into the trees. James wasn't headed for the new camp over in an obscure corner of the Greek wilderness. There was too much unfinished business in this wilderness. Malingerers, healers and soldiers, marked the periphery of the minor atrocity that instigated their abrupt relocation of camp.
James dismounted in one fluid motion with grace honed from a childhood of Quidditch. Keepers and Quaffles seemed like a million years ago sometimes. It was hard to believe that there were kids still playing the same games back in the Empire, still chasing Snitches and beating Bludgers. The smoldering war wasn't real to them, like Quidditch was only a memory to him.
Thoughts of Quidditch evaporated as James approached the clearing. He didn't bother asking a healer or one of the curse breakers if they'd made any progress. The scene hadn't changed since his first glimpse. There were six of them: six random soldiers on sentinel duty who never checked in after their shift. The replacement shift found them.
Walking into the unnaturally still clearing, James grimaced but didn't look away. They had been killed, and judging by their unmarked corpses, Avada Kedavra had been used. The deaths would be a minor tragedy in and of themselves, but soldiers died. It was a simple constant of the profession. It was the curse that had been cast on their bodies after their deaths that made this particular situation more disturbing. The six of them were frozen in a parody of a dinner party. Sitting on air with their nonexistent glasses raised, they toasted something unseen. Their dead flesh curled back in mockingly empty grins. Their opaque eyes gazed up unseeing.
A crow landed on one of the corpses, and James lifted his wand a spell on his lips, but he stopped himself. Casting anything so close to a net of curses was a foolish, potentially suicidal thing to do.
A ring of curse breakers were spread around the posed corpses testing the site with runes scribbled in the sand, sketching figures in the air with their wands, and muttering spells. It seemed like completely unorganized chaos to James, but he had never had any real in-depth curse breaker training.
"Time out!" the ranking curse breaker shouted. He was a stocky solid man, with bright red hair and more than a smattering of freckles. "Someone shoo that damn crow away. Update me. Anything new?"
"I'm getting close to figuring out the timer, but this is big, Lieutenant. It's scary," one of the young women answered.
The other curse breakers had little to add to the update. As soon as they'd settled back to work, the Lieutenant stepped away. He noticed James and the commander bars on his shoulder. "Sir," the lieutenant said. "The Lieutenant Colonel ordered all nonessential personnel out immediately. You aren't on my team, sir."
"Commander Potter." James offered the young man his hand, ignoring his failure to salute. "I was ranking officer at camp when this happened. I'm not leaving until that's fixed or the evacuation is complete. Tell me you've made some progress getting this deconstructed."
"I'm Lieutenant Weasley." Seeming to remember his protocol, he started to salute, but stopped in the middle to take James' hand instead. "We're making progress, slowly. This isn't a simple curse. There are quite a few layers here. We have identified the name of the sculpture they're posing. It's a French piece, Raul DeLoncrey was the artist and the original was called The Jovial Supper. The person who cast the curse signed their work. It's there, carved into Private Lewis on her arm. Invidia. We also know that there is a timed element to the curse. It's winding down or winding toward something. If we can't disarm it, there is no telling what will happen when it activates."
"Thus the impromptu evacuation," James said. "Do you have any idea when this countdown is ending or what will happen?"
"We're working on it," Lieutenant Weasley said.
"Charlie! I mean, sir, Lieutenant Weasley, sir," one of the witches shouted. It was the same woman who reported on the countdown timer earlier, James noticed. "It's going down now, tonight, at midnight. The witching hour is in less than twenty minutes."
The activity around the cursed circle stopped and all attention turned to the two officers. "Everyone to the evacuation transportation circle," Charlie shouted. "Move!"
Though he was ranking officer, James didn't argue, instead following Charlie and his soldiers to the circle of runes set aside at a safe distance. As his soldiers stepped into the circle, Charlie waved his wand and sent them on to the new base camp. It took only a few minutes to send everyone except Charlie and James through. "Sir, step into the circle," Charlie said.
"And who's going to activate the circle for you?" James asked without moving.
"I'm not leaving, obviously," Charlie said. "I'm going to have a last ditch go at that damn curse. Step in the circle, sir, and stop wasting my time."
"Let me help," James said.
Charlie looked like he was considering tackling the lanky Commander and wrestling him into the circle, but with an exasperated sigh he gestured with his wand and obliterated the runes that had been the escape route. "Curses can sometimes follow paths between transportation circles," Charlie explained. "I don't have time to argue with you, so you're going to stay back unless I ask for your help, sir."
Charlie came to a skidding stop at the clearing and started scribbling runes into the sand. Under his breath he mumbled trigger words of power, looking for a thread to unravel in the complex tapestry of curse playing out in front of him.
Wind had begun to blow through the trees, unnatural hot wind that seemed to swirl directly from the center of the clearing, from the heart of the corpse dinner party. James gripped his broom harder so that the wind couldn't snatch it from him. "Lieutenant, maybe we should make a run for it," James shouted over the howls of the wind. "Lieutenant!"
"I see it," Charlie whispered. It was foolhardy to try curse breaking on a whim or with your gut, but sometimes when there was no time, you had to gamble. "Investos Disodos." He cast the spell at what he hoped was the curse's core binding.
Commander Potter grabbed him by the arm and jerked him back from the circle. "We need to make a run for it," James shouted again.
"It's too late," Charlie replied. "You can't Disapparate here, and it's already flowing. I didn't break it."
James mounted his broom, fully prepared to throw the Lieutenant across the handle and fly like Hell, but when he kicked off, nothing happened. The broom jerked helplessly and didn't rise at all. "Soldier, you know how to run, because now's the time," James said.
"It's safer to get closer," Charlie replied. The wind was dying back now, or spreading away. "If we actually get in the circle, we might be safe. It's the eye of the storm. It's our only chance."
London was a dark town, a tilted town. Buildings that had been standing for centuries, whose wood and nails and mortar long since turned to rot, stood by the grace of the ancient spells fortifying them. The smell of decay wasn't overwhelming but its muggy moldy fog was certainly oppressive. Lily flew through the old section of town without pausing to sightsee. She and James had a house in the newer section of town, a yellow house with a huge picture window out front.
Coming to land on her doorstep, Lily couldn't shake the feeling that this was someone else's home. It had been closed for years. They even had a cover story about being in South America on a humanitarian mission for the downtrodden Muggles. It kept tongues from wagging about their constant absence. Her showing up without James was bound to start a different type of gossip flying. Was there trouble in paradise? Were the Potters coming back to London to petition for a divorce? Well she wouldn't be staying long enough to have to deal with the vicious society witches, hopefully. Lily opened her front door without a key. Keys were a childhood tool, a Muggle tool. There were complicated wards protecting the Potter's front door, but nothing tangible like a deadbolt. An enemy or a thief would have a hard time getting past the threshold but a friend would never be turned away.
Instead of the dusty empty house she'd expected, Lily found herself in a shining clean room. Fresh trimmed candles were in every sconce, and the smell of pine oil was almost overwhelming. Moving forward cautiously toward the living room and the crackle of a fresh fire, Lily didn't know what to expect. The tired-looking young man dozing on the chaise wasn't on her short list. "Remus?"
Breaking into a full body stretch and dramatic yawn, Lupin smiled at Lily. "Hi, I took the liberty of opening your house. Sorry for not asking, but I wasn't expecting you any time soon. I've been on a mission that has had me in London for several nights now, and I needed somewhere to stay where there wouldn't be questions."
"No, I understand completely," Lily said. She propped her broom against the wall and took a seat across from Lupin, one of James' closest childhood friends. They had attended school together for almost five years, before anyone found out what he was...Well, that he was infected. Lily wasn't a fan of the lycanthropy execution laws, and Lupin gave the situation a face. James and Sirius saved their unfortunate friend from the execution blocks in their fifth year, and no one even got declassified. "Is it something you can talk about, or is it a secret mission?"
"They're all secret, Lily," Lupin said.
"Right," Lily said. "I suppose it would be silly to ask if I could help?"
"Oh no, not silly at all, I take help whenever it comes my way, especially from a talented witch like yourself. You were number one in your class if I remember correctly," Remus said. He stood and went to the nearest window to let in some air. The room seemed terribly stuffy all of a sudden.
"We both know you were number one and would have remained so if your condition hadn't been discovered," Lily said.
"What's meant to be happens. If I hadn't had to leave, you and James never would have become class pairs. When would you have learned to appreciate his unique charm? When would you have fallen in love?" Lupin smiled over his shoulder, and it almost wasn't bitter at all. "What are you doing back here without James? Is he okay?"
"I'm on medical leave, and James wanted me to visit his parents. His father is ill," Lily said.
Lupin's polite question asking after Lily's health never made it to his lips. The tree-line just visible from the window was alight with an eerie green glow. Only the darkest of magic radiated that putrid color. "Something is happening out there."
Standing at the center of the cursed circle, James tried to keep his attention focused on the sweating Lieutenant he was sharing his personal space with instead of the ring of grinning corpses. The wind was gone and a supernatural stillness had settled into the air. He wasn't wearing a time-teller of any kind, but the witching hour had to be upon them. Should they have run? Surely it was too late now to try and escape, but every instinct he possessed was ready to dash away, to Hell with the curse breaker's logic.
James sucked in a sharp breath. One of the corpses, the one Charlie had called Private Lewis, had winked at him. Then, like marionettes on strings the entire deceased party was moving, greeting each other. "Welcome to our party. I am glad you could join us. It was my hope that someone would remain close enough to talk with. It is hard to send a message if you kill everyone who hears it." The voice coming out of the dead witch's mouth was garbled and hitching, as though her throat wasn't functioning properly.
Flexing Private Lewis's death-stiffened joints with sickening pops, the creature rose. "I am Invidia, and I will be your host. Today we're throwing a dinner party to celebrate the death and rebirth of our companion Gluto. As he passed away in these woods at the hands of a dirty revolutionary, we thought a cleaning would be appropriate as a celebration." Invidia raised her nonexistent glass and the other corpses followed her lead. "Reapers rejoice. Rebels die."
A sandstorm raged just outside the tower of Erudio, but no wind or sand disturbed the inhabitants of the tower. Albus sat quietly behind his desk and he listened to James Potter's report. The young Commander was obviously exhausted, dark circles under his eyes left him looking hollow-faced shell-shocked. There would be no rest for him yet. He had told Albus his story three times now, and now he would need to listen.
"Sir, did everyone get out before the curse? As soon as Charlie and I made it to the new camp we were sent straight to you." James hadn't even been given a chance to send an owl to London to check on Lily. He had no idea what the curse had done or if London was a safe place to be. The worry was driving him mad.
"No, we lost several men and women, but not nearly so many as we would have lost without the quick evacuation you started." Albus paused before continuing his instructions. "Lily is fine, James. The curse killed rebels in the Misty Forest but it stopped at London's borders. Aside from Muggles who were actively helping us, none of them were hurt."
As soon as he registered that Lily was okay, James began interrogating Dumbeldore, anxious for answers. "Who are the Reapers? Are they demons or wizards?" James asked. "Why are they after us all of a sudden? We haven't sought any large scale confrontations with the empire in all the years I've been a rebel. Why after decades of ignoring us, is Turpin sending his enforcers to exterminate us? It doesn't make sense. What changed?"
"It isn't us that changed, but Turpin's strategy for dealing with us has. When we know what he fears so, maybe we will finally have a weapon to use against him." Albus pulled out a tightly rolled parchment and offered it to James. "One of the men we lost was Lieutenant Colonel Ferris."
James unrolled the parchment revealing a neatly stamped and sealed officer's commission. "You want me to take over what's left of the Western European forces. What do you want me to do with them?"
"I want you to keep them alive until I can find the answers I need. Are you up to the task?" Albus asked.
"Absolutely, but you have to do something for me as well, a favour," James said. "Find a way to keep Lily out of the line of fire, and safe. She won't quit the rebellion, but you have to have safer jobs you could set her. You keep her busy until you find your answers, and I'll keep your army alive if I can."
Albus offered James his hand and they shook solemnly. "Good luck," Albus offered. As James exited quietly, his mind buzzing with his new responsibilities, it occurred to him that Dumbledore hadn't answered his first question about the nature of the Reapers. Instead of wheeling around and demanding answers, James assumed the obvious, that Albus didn't know exactly what the Reapers were.
Standing atop his tower, alone with his thoughts again, Albus took out his ostrich feather quill and the special green ink that allow him to communicate with certain of his resources safely.
Remus,
Are you still in London? If so, I'd like you to check in with an old friend, Lily Potter. She should be coming into town this evening. Please use her expertise to help you on your fact-finding mission.
Best wishes,
A.
"Any word from your brother yet?" Harry asked. He dropped into a seat opposite Ron in the library and opened his Rule of Turpin text so he'd have something to pretend to read. "Hermione is still buried up to her ears in those moldy old books of hers trying to find an answer."
"Yeah, well I'm assuming that no news is good news for now," Ron whispered. "George is still really upset. He said he's been having weird dreams. They have this bizarre twin-bond thing, and he thinks the dreams are a bad sign." Harry arched an eyebrow skeptically and turned his page without ever looking at the book. "No really. There was this time when they were maybe four or five and George was flying on Dad's broom when he wasn't supposed to. Fred was three hundred miles away swimming with our other brother Charlie, and he screamed and sank like a rock. At exactly that moment George managed to fall off his broom. Fred felt George break his leg."
"Weird," Harry said. "So what kind of dreams is he having?"
"He won't tell me."
A middle-aged witch with long black hair and one pretty brown eye slouched low in her chair. Her other eye, her reaper-red eye was glowing with a dangerous fire, the black tattoo under it writhing as if trying to escape the fury of that red glow. "I didn't want to kill the lot of them all at once, stupid. Where's the fun in a mass killing? This way they will be scared as they should be when they face us. I know Gluto wanted to discard his old form for a newer model, but it shouldn't have been so easy to get himself killed. It hurts our reputation. Now maybe we've made up some lost ground."
A silver-haired man, returned her stare without flinching, his own reaper-red eye sparking. "Dear Invidia, you should consult me before you act. With some more planning, your playful curse could have been much more effective."
"I disagree, and I don't have to consult anyone. Consultation is a waste of time," Invidia hissed. "Are you afraid someone might forget that you're our leader, Saevio? Are we worried about appearances?"
Without preamble Saevio grabbed Invidia by the throat, his massive sun-browned hand almost circling it completely. "There is an unfortunate side effect to almost always taking the form of a female. They're very breakable." He threw her against the wall, and squeezed, occluding her windpipe. She didn't struggle for her breath or whimper. Invidia grinned even as her lips turned blue. Saevio released her before she lost consciousness and walked away. "I'd kill you but I know that's what you want. You envy Gluto his fresh body and want one of your own. You're afraid that Irritum will get her new form first and you can't stand it. What a pitiful vice you embody, envy, never satisfied, never at peace with yourself."
"The incarnation of wrath speaking of peace, that is a joke," Invidia hissed hoarsely. "You know you wanted to kill me. Is your rage chilling in your old age? Without your anger, you're nothing, less than nothing. Couldn't even kill me when I deserved it..."
Saevio chuckled and headed out the door. "Foolish child, hasn't even learned that wrath is most powerful when it is cool."
Author's Note:
I think this chapter went way dark way fast. The next chapter is actually much lighter and less gore-filled, promise.
Since my Beta asked this question after reading this chapter, I felt the need to dispel anyone who jumped to this conclusion…Lily is not going to school! We're not going there. Anyone who wanted her to go there, sorry, it's just not going to happen.
Many thanks are owed to Magical Maeve, the best beta in the whole wide world.