nightseer

Deals with Devils



Making his way up the rickety staircase, not bothering to test each step, just avoiding the holes from what he could only assume were curses and hexes, Sirius didn’t look at James’s body on the floor below. Didn’t acknowledge his best friend’s expression caught somewhere between fear and determination. Didn’t think about how pale his skin now appeared compared to his black hair. Didn’t notice the broken wand under the man’s arm.

One touch to James’s cooling wrist and the denied prayer James was only stunned had been enough to break Sirius. Only the slim hope Harry and Lily were still alive kept Sirius moving.

There were signs of a longer fight on the second floor. Blackened lines where hastily erected wards and shields had been broken. Smoking holes and glowing spots and furry or feathered blotches where hexes, charms, and transfiguration spells had missed their marks. All were signs Lily had put up one hell of a fight.

Sirius took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the master bedroom. It didn’t take him long to discover the spells surrounding the dresser hiding the emergency exit were still in place. Hoping and praying James had gotten around to making the second exit in Harry’s room, Sirius moved on.

The door to Harry’s room had been partially blown outwards. The top half was hanging out into the hall, the wood curved and stretched in a way that could only have been done by powerful magic and the brass hinges were nothing more than puddles on the floor, while the bottom half was still perfect. After studying the door for a few moments, Sirius decided he could get it off by hand. He didn’t want to use his wand; the temptation to go after Peter was far too great.

The crack-bang of the wood was loud as he broke the door apart and tossed the pieces behind him, too loud in the silence of the dead house. Until that moment, Sirius hadn’t believed muggle homes could have a life of their own, but when Lily didn’t yell at the noise and James didn’t urge him on while laughing at the mess he was making, Sirius had to accept it. The old muggle house Lily had chosen all those months ago had been full of life, just not a kind Sirius had recognized.

A small sound, almost hidden under the noise he was making, came from Harry’s room. Sirius froze, a thin piece of wood hanging from his fingers. It happened again, louder, and this time Sirius recognized it. It was the same whimper Harry made when he tripped and got hurt. With renewed vigor, Sirius broke his way through, breaking off enough of the stretched wood he could climb over and get into the room.

Sirius zeroed in on Harry, picking the small boy up from his broken crib and cradling him close. He knew the redhead lying in a crumpled heap on the floor was Lily and that the black robe by the door had to have belonged to Voldemort or a Death Eater; he just pretended he didn’t see them. Harry was alive, thus Harry was more important. Mourning would come later.

Grabbing what he could (Harry’s diaper bag, diapers and wipes, a fresh blanket, the baggies of dry cereal, his lion, a few changes of clothes and socks for Harry), Sirius made his way out of the room, stopping just once to close Lily’s eyes and to say goodbye. He went back to the master bedroom, got a mild children’s sleeping potion from the bathroom and picked up Lily’s spell box for rituals from the closet and a photo of James, Lily, and Harry off a bedside table. Making one last stop to say goodbye to James, Sirius left the house. He didn’t bother to hide the signs he had been there or repair the damage he had done to get to Harry. He didn’t have the time. He needed to get to some place safe before anyone else realized they remembered where James and Lily’s house was. What he had to do couldn’t be interrupted.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Looking at the candle lined circle, a strange feeling of relief washed over Sirius. He had remembered, more than he had thought. It wasn’t perfect, he had known it wouldn’t be without using the book as a reference, but intent was more important here. Intent and need.

Wishing he could do more and knowing he couldn’t, Sirius smiled sadly as he picked Harry up and Harry grinned at him around his thumb. It was common knowledge Sirius was the Potter’s secret keeper--he had done everything he could to make it that way so Voldemort would come after him instead of Peter. Once James and Lily’s bodies were found, everyone would be after him for betraying them. He wouldn’t be able to raise Harry without going on the run, and he wouldn’t make Harry grow up with the constant fear of loosing his home. Moony couldn’t raise Harry because of the Were-Laws. The only people left were Petunia, who hated magic, and whoever paid the ministry the most money. Neither were options Sirius was willing to consider for Prongslet.

Sirius hugged Harry close as he knelt on the grass in the center and began the chant. What he had once considered as a possible revenge against his mother was now the one thing he had left to use to protect Harry. It was dangerous, but Sirius was willing to risk it. Harry wouldn’t be safe without protection and the being Sirius was calling had the power to provide it if he was willing to pay the price.

“You better have a good reason for summoning me, Sirius Black. The child is the only reason you aren’t dead now.”

Sirius stood up and looked into the woman’s eyes, refusing to back down from the death promised there. He did, however, stiffen as she moved to stand right in front of him. “I wasn’t sure you would answer me without the ritual, Halfrek.”

The demon sneered as she looked him over, her expression softening ever so slightly when she saw Harry. “You have five minutes to explain yourself, Black,” she said as she took Harry from him, easily dodging Sirius’s attempts to take him back. “And it better be good.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Telling herself she was simply imagining the weight of magic in the air, Edea pulled her coat closed as she slowly followed Squall and Seifer outside. She wanted to be relieved Squall was finally showing signs of being recovered from her sending Ellone away; she wanted to believe his eagerness to play Sorceress Knights with Seifer meant he was healing, but she knew that wasn’t true. Squall, like the other children, was just reacting to the magic that had been building all morning, and he was simply taking advantage of the chance to work off his excess energy.

Everyone was on edge, though Edea was the only one who knew why. The magic had no ill intent, but it was strong and it was everywhere and it was affecting everyone. Quistis couldn’t focus on her favorite picture book; Zell had pulled half the fur off his chocobo doll before Edea had distracted him with a game; and Mitchell, Camden, and Liza were constantly arguing over which cartoons to watch. Edea considered herself lucky Selphie had been able to distract Irvine with a new pack of crayons and that some of the older children were busy with their school work, even if they were constantly getting up and walking around instead of studying.

Needing the extra balance, Edea kept her left hand one the old stone wall as she walked down the path. It was there to keep the children from tumbling over the edge and down the hill to the beach, but today she was using it as a handrail. The excess magic in the air was making her knees feel rubbery and she needed the extra balance.

“We’re playin’, Squall. Pick up your sword!” Seifer shouted from the beach.

Edea sighed and forced herself to walk faster, despite how wobbly she felt. The last thing she needed was for Seifer and Squall to have one of their fights. It was a blessing from Hyne Zell hadn’t followed them out here. If he had, Edea was sure the rest of her morning would have been filled with patching up split lips and bloody noses.

“What’s that?” Seifer asked. “Don’t touch it! It might be dead.”

“Get Matron,” Squall ordered in a low voice Edea could barely make out, and then only because Squall had said the children's name for her.

“You gotta be kiddin’,” Seifer groaned loudly. “Matron will make us go inside.”

“It’s a baby, moron!” Squall snapped in a near yell right as Edea reached the bottom of the path. She could see the two boys at the far west end of the beach under the light house, crouched over something--something she prayed really wasn’t a baby. Not only was a beach this close to winter, a beach with monsters no less, one of the worst places to abandon a child, but it was a less than a fifteen minute walk to her front porch. If someone was going to abandon a baby here, they could at least put it on her doorstep and out of the wind and rain. Possibly even ring the doorbell to get her attention before running off.

Edea managed to get her legs to move a little faster than a slow crawl, ignoring the pressure of the magic causing her muscles to feel like so much mush. Her slow pace gave her time to put all the puzzle pieces together, her magic muddled mind finally making the connection between the magic in the air, how heavy it was on the beach, and Squall’s discovery: The baby was the source of all the magic pressing down on her and her children.

Edea almost sighed in relief at the knowledge the magic didn’t mean another sorceress was out there watching her and her children. Then she thought about how she had woken up a four in the morning when she had first felt the girl’s magic and that it was almost time for her to start making the children’s lunch. Edea started running, giving into the temptation to use her own magic to help her move.

“Squall, is the baby breathing?” Edea yelled, causing the boys to jump back from the bundle of blue blanket, Seifer dropping his sword in the sand and Squall knocking sand everywhere when he fell back. The boys just stared at her, dumbstruck. “Is she breathing?” she demanded, still too far away to see if the baby was moving, let alone breathing.

Squall recovered first. He pulled the baby, more like toddler from what Edea could see, completely free of the sand and blanket, and onto his lap. He wiped her face, getting rid of the sand, and Edea could see the toddler’s arms move, batting at Squall’s hand, and hear soft whimpers, the beginnings of a good cry. Seifer scowled at the toddler for a moment, but when he saw how close Edea was, he got up and started shaking the sand out of the blanket, revealing a baby blue diaper bag half buried in sand. Edea felt like screaming—someone had abandoned this child, yet it appeared they could take of her if they wanted to.

Edea slowed to a jog and then a quick walk, before coming to a stop and kneeling next to Squall. As she moved to take the toddler from Squall, the girl opened her eyes, saw Edea, let out a terrified scream, and latched on to Squall, her little hands gripping his shirt tightly.

Edea leaned back, and the toddler instantly calmed down. Slowly pulling her magic in, Edea ignored the boys’ confusion and waited for the toddler to calm down, but it was a slow process. Anytime Edea or Seifer moved, the girl twisted her hands in Squall’s shirt again and hid her face, leaving Squall with the task of calming her down once more. Oddly enough, he didn’t seem to mind as much as Edea thought he should. Edea decided she would blame that on Squall missing Ellone, refusing to acknowledge how the girl’s magic had started to calm once Squall had picked her up and what that might mean one day. Both children were far too young for that now.

“Seifer, check the diaper bag for a toy or stuffed animal. Maybe something familiar will calm her down,” Edea said when the girl flinched from her for the third time. It hurt the girl didn’t trust her, but getting the toddler inside where it was warm and there was food was more important, and possibly, even though Edea didn’t smell anything, changing the girl’s diaper.

Seifer dug through the bag, tossing a few baby outfits on the ground before he found a small lion stuffed animal with a crumbled piece of paper stuck between its front paws. “I found a note,” Seifer said as he handed her the toy, keeping the paper for himself.

“You read now?” Squall asked with a snort as he rubbed the toddler’s back.

Edea rolled her eyes as she held the lion out for the girl to take. The world could be ending and Squall and Seifer would still stand around taking shots at each other’s ego.

“I’m better tha’ Quisty,” Seifer boasted as he unrolled the note. He frowned in concentration as he tried to understand the words, and Seifer’s face lit up when he found some he recognized. “His name is Harry,” he said triumphantly.

His?

Edea dropped the lion and turned to stare at Seifer, vaguely aware of Squall picking up and handing the lion to Harry and Harry’s giggles. Her brain put what she knew about sorcery and history with what Seifer had just said, and came up with three, not four. “What?”

“Right here,” Seifer said, holding the note out for Edea to see, pointing at the sentence he had just read from. “His name is Harry James Poot…Pot…”

“Potter,” Edea corrected absently as she took the letter. One glance at the letter was enough to prove Seifer had read it correctly. The contents of the short letter flew in the face of everything Edea knew about magic and what it was capable of, but after having Squall’s future self come for a visit, it didn’t seem completely impossible. Improbable, but not impossible. Making a mental note to hide it as soon as possible, Edea tucked the letter into her pocket despite Seifer’s claims he wanted to finish reading it.

Edea stared at Harry, and he stared back, half hiding his face in Squall’s baggy shirt, one hand still wrapped in said shirt while the other gripped the stuffed lion’s tail. Every book Edea had ever read about sorcery said the male body couldn’t hold magic safely, that they just weren’t equipped to handle it. A quick Scan spell, which made Harry sneeze, Squall gag at his shirt becoming a temporary tissue and Seifer laugh, proved the boy was indeed a boy.

“There’s a first time for everything, I suppose,” Edea said.

Harry sneezed again.

Edea sighed under the cover of Squall’s disgusted shout. “And I’m guessing I just got stuck with your first cold.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“It’s about time! I didn’t think it would take a six hour magical headache for her to get a clue,” Halfrek growled softly as Edea Kramer carried Harry down the beach, Squall and Seifer right behind her, Squall watching the Kramer woman with narrowed eyes.

Halfrek was less than pleased with the boy’s choice of a Knight. Not only did Leonhart have less than half the destructive potential of Almasy, it threw wrench in the Powers’ plans for Leonhart and would definitely cause problems with what they had for Potter, but Halfrek considered the free-for-all vengeance spree Black’s incomplete summoning circle had gifted her with worth the tongue lashing she would get from D’Hoffryn. Halfrek figured she had at least a month’s worth of fun ahead of her as she went after anyone who had played any part in leading up to Harry Potter’s current status as an orphan.

She snickered as she faded out, aiming for a certain man’s office in Hogwarts, already planning what to do to his precious sweets as a warm up.



A/N: I have this little theory Dumbledore purposely let the prophecy get out, either by sending Snape himself or not stopping Snape from reporting it to Voldemort, just so there would be a concrete way to stop Voldemort. I don’t think Halfrek would see it in the shades of grey known as ‘For the Greater Good’ Dumbledore method, but more along the black and white lines of ‘You did this, I get to hurt you for it’ method.