A Promise Kept - Chapter 17 - Old Friends, New Opportunities

Old Friends, New Opportunities

“He’s here?” Sirius asked, frowning at what Albus had revealed to him.

“He is,” the Headmaster confirmed. “The world has not been so kind to him, Sirius, as I expect you can imagine.”

“Where has he been?”

“Does it matter?” Albus replied with a sad smile. “His kind are treated the same wherever they go.”

Sirius released a deep breath as he nodded.

“It has been more than ten years,” he sighed. “He thought that I betrayed.

“And the thought of him betraying us all had not crossed your mind?”

“It did,” Sirius admitted.

“Then perhaps you were both wrong.”

Sirius conceded the point with another nod.

He had often thought about the other of the last two Marauders. Remus had always been the quiet, brilliant one of the four, doing all he could to never draw attention to himself.

He’d spent his childhood and first part of his first year of Hogwarts terrified that his secret would be discovered. When it had, Sirius, James, and even the rat had rallied around him, had protected him when Remus had believed he’d be shunned at best.

Sirius shook his head.

“Where is the daft git?”

He had taken a couple of turns around the lake whilst readying himself to face one of his oldest friends, one he’d believed had abandoned them at best during the war against the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.

Sirius expected Remus had felt abandoned during that time.

The others had all gone into hiding, and he had remained diligently at his post as Albus had instructed, yet, not seen fit to tell any about.

Still, Sirius had not appreciated Remus’s letter to Lily.

How he could think so poorly of him after all they’d been through was something the Lord Black could not comprehend, but those had been the darkest of days where it was impossible to trust anyone from one day to the next.

The only person Sirius had never lost faith in had been James Potter.

He would’ve died before joining Voldemort, but had fallen to a much nobler course, in the end. He’d given his life so that his family might have a chance of escaping the Dark Lord’s clutches.

Swallowing the lump that never failed to form when he thought of his fallen friend, he knocked on the door and waited.

When it opened just slightly. He found himself greeted by a pair of familiar, brown eyes.

Albus had not been wrong in his assumption.

The world had not been kind to Remus Lupin. Already, he had aged terribly. His hair was streaked with grey, and he bore more scars than he remembered him having.

He was thinner too, and the bags under his eyes spoke of a permanent fatigue and tiredness that plagued him.

“Sirius,” he whispered.

“Lord Black,” Sirius corrected, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

Remus shook his head.

“I never thought I’d see the day, but it suits you, old friend.”

“I can’t say the same for you,” Sirius murmured nodding towards Remus. “What happened?”

“That’s a long story,” the werewolf sighed.

“Well, I’m in no rush.”

Remus released a deep breath and stepped aside, and Sirius had never seen him look so pitiful, not even the night he, James and, Wormtail had confronted him about the regular absences, and affliction he lived with.

“Whiskey?” he offered, removing a flask from within his robes and offering it to the man.

“I think I might need it,” Remus murmured, accepting the flask gratefully. “It’s been a long time, Sirius.”

“I know, so, let’s not leave it any longer.”

He had learnt something of humility over the years, and he was not afraid to admit he was wrong. It had been him that had taken it upon himself to take Lily and Harry away from Britain, leaving everything and everyone behind.

All these years, Sirius had been focused on watching over them, and all else had been left as it was, for the most.

Perhaps he could rebuild one of the very few bridges that had meant something to him long before he’d become the Lord Black, or even close to being the man he was today.

(Break)

“Why are you so keen on pursuing something so dangerous?” his mother asked.

They had not spoken of it whilst his friends had been here, and even the week after they had departed, she had not mentioned it to him, even though harry could see that she wished to.

Maybe she was angry with him, or more likely still, she would understand his logic and did not wish to hear the truth.

“Because I never want anyone to experience what we have.”

He watched as his mother wiped a tear from her cheek before she wrapped her arms around him.

“The world is full of people like him, and there has to be those that are willing to stop them. What happens if people stop trying, Mum? I still have nightmares, and I know you don’t like it, but it will be something I know I will be good at. I am so drawn to the magic I will need, and I know you’re scared, but I’m not. I used to be. I used to be scared that he will come for us again, but it is not him I’m scared of. Maybe I should be, but I’m not. I’m scared he will take you from me, and that I won’t be able to stop him, not of him.”

His mother offered him a watery smile.

“Harry, I would never stop you doing what it is you want to, and I will even support you, but that will never stop me from worrying about you, no matter how big you become. I am your mother, and I could barely even watch you play Quodpot. Knowing you’re out there hunting dark wizards…”

She broke off and shook her head.

“Why couldn’t you be so passionate about Potions?” she snorted.

“Then I would be much more like you, and the world doesn’t deserve that.”

He placed a kiss on her cheek, and she offered him a bright smile.

“You know, your father had a way with words too,” she sighed. “He was a pain in the arse, but I suppose the apple really doesn’t fall so far from the tree.”

Lily Potter would never be happy with any career choice he made beyond feeding flobberworms, but at the very least, Harry did not feel as though he was going behind her back. She would be prepared for whatever it was he decided to do.

After all, he was only thirteen, and he didn’t have to set his sights firmly on anything yet, but he was certain the mundane did not lay ahead of him.

“I ate too much,” Olivia groaned as they arrived at the common room and plonked themselves in a couple of chairs by one of the fires. “Were we really that small?”

She nodded towards the nervous first years as they were led in by the new fifth year prefects.

Adrian had graduated back in July and was already enrolled in the Auror academy along with Alexandra, and Harry couldn’t help but think that MACUSA would be getting two of the very best.

Ilvermorny wouldn’t be the same without them, but at least the nickname the older boy had bestowed upon him would leave with him; something Harry was infinitely grateful for.

“You were a dainty little thing,” he replied. “You still are.”

Olivia narrowed her eyes at him.

She was diminutive in stature, but quite fiery with it if something irked her.

“I’m growing where it matters,” she replied with a grin.

Harry shook his head amusedly.

“How do you think that lot will do?” he asked, his gaze shifting back towards the first years.

“I expect some wet trousers,” Olivia sighed. “I’m not getting involved in that.”

“No, nor me.”

“It feels different. We lost Adrian and Alexandra, and four more Quodpot players. We’ll still win though.”

“That’s not a given,” Harry pointed out.

“True, but I don’t think anyone is going to be keeping up with you,” Olivia said thoughtfully, groaning as she leaned back and stretched her legs. “What is Fontaine doing here? Already in trouble, Sugar?”

Harry grimaced at the name, and Olivia grinned.

“He put you up to this, didn’t he?”

“He did.”

Harry cursed under breath.

“I’ll kill that git when I see him.”

“I think you have bigger problems,” Olivia murmured as Professor Fontaine walked towards them. “We’ve not even been back a night. What will your mother say?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Harry protested.

“Come with me, Mr Potter,” the Headmaster instructed, “and no, Miss Parker, he is not in any trouble. For once,” he added with a smirk.

“Do I have a reputation for being a troublemaker?” Harry asked.

Olivia nodded, and he shook his head as he followed Professor Fontane from the room, where he was led towards the man’s office.

“You’re not in trouble, Harry. We just have a few things to discuss with how your year will progress.”

“Well, that’s a relief.”

Professor Fontaine chuckled and tapped the door to his office with a wand, beckoning for Harry to follow him inside.

Sitting behind the large, ornate desk, he gestured for him to sit before allowing his gaze to roam over him speculatively.

“Professor Clarke discussed your desire to pursue duelling and combat magic as part of your electives,” he explained. “The latter of the two is easy enough to accommodate. As a former Auror, I have opted to teach you, but have found others willing to work with you, Harry, people I trust implicitly, and you will too, in time.”

Harry nodded appreciatively.

“But not duelling?”

Professor Fontaine deflated.

“Duellists, truly competent duellists, are exceptionally difficult to find, let alone convince to teach. Their careers require much ongoing training, and they simply do not have the time to invest in others, not until they retire, at least, but, there is one person who I believe might be convinced to teach, train, and officially assess you. However, I believe it would be better if the request was to come from you.”

“Who is it?” Harry asked curiously.

“Filius Flitwick.”

“The Hogwarts Charms Professor?”

Fontaine nodded.

“The very same,” he confirmed. “Filius Flitwick is undoubtedly one of the greatest duellists alive, has won multiple championships, and has vast teaching experience. Now, I do not know him personally, but I intend to write to him and Albus Dumbledore with the request of a meeting to discuss the matter, though I do not expect such assistance will come for free.”

“I can pay…”

“No, no, it won’t be gold, Harry. Albus Dumbledore will use this as a way to gain a favour of his own, perhaps not now, but in the future. Nothing nefarious, of course, but I expect I will find myself in his debt.”

“Then shouldn’t we look elsewhere?”

Fontaine shook his head.

“If you are going to pursue this little venture, Harry, I would see that you do it with the very best,” he said with a smile. “Any favour Dumbledore may ask of me in the future is a small price to pay, but I just needed to inform you of what will be happening next. I do not expect it will take long to receive a response.”

“But you will be teaching me combat magic?”

“I will be your primary instructor, but you will meet another soon enough. He is particularly keen to make your acquaintance, Harry, and you will be glad to have met him. Now, best be on your way and get some rest. Should all go according to plan, your schedule will be a particularly busy one.”

Harry did so, excited by the prospect of being trained by a duellist of such a high calibre, but would Filius Flitwick even entertain the idea?

His mother had always spoken very highly of the man, had even been his favourite student, but that meant little when it came to such things.

No Master worth their salt would take on a student for the sake of fondness of another, so, Harry was unsure what would come of Professor Fontaine’s request, but he hoped Professor Flitwick would be amenable to it.

Duelling was another thing he wished to perhaps pursue, and not just for what was inevitably coming in the future. Much like Quodpot, and his prospective careers, it presented him with the opportunity to push himself doing something he believed in his heart of hearts he could be truly exceptional at.

Still, it wasn’t an assured path for Harry, noy until Professor Flitwick consented to teaching him the art.

(Break)

“How are they doing, Lily and Harry?” Remus asked.

Sirius smiled as he shook his head.

“As well as can be expected with everything. Lily doesn’t leave the ranch much, but she is getting better. It’s been hard for them, Moony, for both of them.”

“And for you.”

“Not so much,” Sirius denied. “I wouldn’t do anything differently. I made a promise to James, and I have done my best.”

“And he would be so damned grateful for it,” Remus sighed. “Is he like him?”

Sirius nodded.

“In many ways, he is just like them both, but Harry is just Harry. He’s going to be brilliant, better than any of us, but I worry about him.”

“You do?”

“He’s a fearless little bugger, a little too bold for his own good at times.”

“Just like James.”

“And just as talented on a broom.”

Remus smiled sadly.

“I’m sorry, Sirius, for everything. I should never have doubted you.”

“The war did that to all of us,” Sirius pointed out. “It made us doubt those we should’ve been able to trust, but I suppose it couldn’t have been any other way. Look at Wormtail.”

“Albus mentioned he was here.”

Sirius felt his expression darken.

“I hope it will be me that catches up with him.”

“And me,” Remus murmured.

“I think it will be Harry, and the little shit will deserve everything coming to him.”

“He will.”

They fell silent for several moments before Sirius stood.

“I want you to take the job. Merlin knows you could use some stability, and even if it doesn’t work out here, you won’t be alone, Moony.”

Remus swallowed deeply as he nodded.

“Thank you, Sirius.”

With the full moon only a few days away, the werewolf was looking quite pale and sickly, but was in good spirits as he slowly at his breakfast at the staff table.

It had been a busy few days since the students had returned, but thankfully, there was nothing out of the ordinary to report, not yet, at least.

Whatever had happened with the Chamber the previous year had indeed been resolved, and though Albus had yet to discuss the odd book that Ginny Weasley had been in possession of, Sirius was no less grateful.

The girl herself had returned to the castle, quiet and meek, but was receiving the help she clearly needed.

Sirius looked on as the post arrived, delivering the mail to students and staff alike, frowning as the very same owl delivered a letter to each Dumbledore and Filius Flitwick.

Curiously, they read the missives before exchanging a surprised glance, the latter smiling almost wistfully.

“Did you know about this, Sirius?” Filius asked, sliding the letter he’d received towards him.

His frown deepened as he read it, shaking his head in response.

“I had no idea,” he answered truthfully.

How such an arrangement would work, he wasn’t sure, but if it could be made…

“Well, I must say, it is most unexpected,” Filius said thoughtfully.

“Indeed,” Albus broke in. “Agilbert would not make such a request if it was not sincere. Ilvermorny has done its utmost to stand on its own merit since establishing itself. Our schools have little to do with one another.”

“But you’re on first name terms with him.”

Albus chuckled as he nodded.

“Officially, schools have little interaction, but us Headmasters and Headmistresses do stay in touch to discuss educational matters. If all goes well, there will be more contact between us all soon enough,” he added, his eyes alight with a mixture of excitement and amusement.

Sirius could not even begin to comprehend what the man was referring to, and he knew better than to ask.

Albus would only reveal what he wished to, so pressing him would be of no use.

“Are you considering it, Filius?”

The diminutive man nodded.

“I have had my share of requests over the years, all of which I have declined, but if you would be amenable, Albus, I would like to at least agree to a meeting with them.”

“As would I,” Albus returned. “If, of course, Lily has no objections,” he added, looking towards Sirius pointedly.

Truthfully, he did not wish for Harry to have much to do with Dumbledore. The man had the very best of intentions, but such a travelled path did not always lead to most desirable of destinations.

Even so, if this was what Harry wanted, he could think of few others who could teach him so well.

“I will discuss it with her when I get home,” he assured the men.

(Break)

He sniffed the air deeply, his small nose twitching as he watched the port below. Peter had been reluctant to leave Britain, and during the summer, being on the run here had not been so bad, but with winter fast approaching, he did not quite fancy chancing the elements.

No, that would not do, and though he was doing so reluctantly, he knew he needed to locate the Dark Lord.

He’d heard the rumours of the Chamber of Secrets being open, had heard the young Gryffindors discussing the matter in depth, speculating as to who could be responsible for doing so.

Peter immediately knew who was behind it.

There was only one person alive of opening the Chamber, and although he could not fathom how, he did not doubt that it was the Dark Lord, which meant the man was out there somewhere.

During the previous months, he’d roamed the country, searching all of the places he knew of the man might lay low, to no avail.

He, evidently, was not here, but there were other places beyond Britain that Lord Voldemort had spoken of, or at least mentioned in passing that Peter could search, and as he made his way towards one of the first ferries to depart Britain for the day, he breathed a sigh of relief as he boarded in his Animagus form.

For now, there was nothing here besides a man who wished to murder him, but as ever, the Dark Lord would be able to shelter him from his enemies.

The very thought allowed him to relax and look on as the white cliffs began to fade into the distance of the brisk, Autumn morning.

(Break)

“Our aim of this year is not to become experts on every kind of Rune or Runic array you see before you, but to get a solid grounding in each. At the beginning of your fifth year, I will discuss with each of you which three you would like to study for your OWLs and NEWTs, but for now you are going to sit a quiz,” Professor Umberto announced with a grin. “You will have five minutes to study the Runes you can see around you, and we will see how many you can identify. Any questions?”

None raised their hands, and the Professor waved his wand. A loud gong-like sound rang out.

“Start memorising!”

Harry began doing so, his eyes roaming over the many symbols and clusters of them, with far too many sharing similarities for his liking, but he already knew them well enough, for the most part.

He’d begun studying the Runes textbook from time to time the previous year but had not looked at it much over the summer.

“Excuse me, Professor Umberto, may I borrow Potter?”

The professor nodded and shot Harry a grin.

“Come straight back, Potter. This is not an excuse for you to miss the quiz.”

He frowned as he left the room with Professor Fontaine, and he was handed a roll of parchment, which he unfurled to read.

Dear Professor Agilbert Fontaine,

As per your request to discuss a potential opportunity for Mr Harry Potter, I cordially invite you both to Hogwarts to do so on the evening of the 10th of September at 7pm local time.

Both Filius and I look forward to welcoming you.

Yours sincerely,

Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot

Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Warlocks

“That’s tonight,” Harry murmured.

“It is,” Fontaine confirmed. “I did say it would likely not take long. At the very least Dumbledore is keen to meet you, but given that your godfather is under his employ, I do not suspect any ulterior motive.”

Harry nodded as he re-read the letter.

“I bet it gets tired signing his letters,” he chuckled.

“Oh, Albus isn’t the only one with an excessive amount of titles, and I expect he is obliged to list those. He makes no mention that he is a Grand Sorcerer, Grand Master in the art of Transfiguration, nor holds a Mastery in Alchemy under Nicholas Flamel.”

“Well, that would make the list longer,” Harry acknowledged. “I think I would prefer the ones he doesn’t use.”

“As does he,” Fontaine sighed. “For as famous as he is, and difficult in his own way, Albus Dumbledore is one of the most accomplished wizards in centuries, but also quite humble about his achievements. Now, you will need to meet me in my office this evening at eleven pm, Harry. I believe your godfather will be meeting us at the drop-off point for the portkey.”

“Of course, Professor.”

Fontaine offered him a nod before taking his leave of the corridor, and Hary returned to the classroom just as the lesson was coming to an end.

“Not so fast, Mr Potter,” Professor Umberto called as he began gathering his things. “You still have your test to complete. Sit down.”

“But I didn’t even get the five minutes to study,” Harry protested.

“Well, then I should lower my expectations of you, no?”

Harry merely shook his head in response as the piece of parchment was placed in front of him, removing his quill, and began filling in the answers as best as he could remember them.

(Break)

Lily released a deep sigh, deflating as she took a seat by the fire.

“He was serious then, and if you even think about making a pun about your name, I will make the rest of your day miserable.”

Sirius closed his mouth, curbing the temptation to do so.

“You know what he is like,” he pointed out. “When he sets his mind on something, he won’t be deterred, and if he is going to learn how to duel from anyone, he can’t do much better than Filius.”

Lily nodded.

“I know but…”

“You think he is setting himself on a path you never wanted him to.”

“Isn’t he?”

“Probably,” Sirius agreed, “but if he is going to go down it, he should be as prepared as possible. Lily, you can’t expect him to live his life in a way that will make you happy. If he did that, he’d never leave the house.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and Sirius fought the urge to wince.

Lily Potter was a terrifying woman when she lost her temper.

“That’s not it,” she murmured. “I just wish more than anything that he had not been dealt the hand he has. I’m terrified of what the future holds for him.”

“Me too, but I would rather he was prepared to face it than be caught short. If that means training with Filius or anyone else for that matter, then so be it. He’s always training with me, and I do not doubt that he is steadily working his way through the Black family magic.”

“What about the Potter family magic? Do they have their own?”

“I heard Charlus mention it,” Sirius answered thoughtfully, scratching his chin. “He mentioned teaching it to James the summer before his seventh year when we were going into our sixth. He died shortly after.”

“Maybe it is something to do with potions,” Lily mused aloud.

“No, I don’t think so,” Sirius murmured. “You really do not know much about the Potters, do you?”

“I met Charlus and Dorea twice, and that was only in. passing. What do you know that I don’t?”

“Well, most people forget that James was the first child of a Potter and Black. They’d never been a marriage between our families before Charlus and Dorea. Anyway, the Black reputation and our expertise is known, but I don’t suppose there are many left alive that will remember the Potters’. They’ve always been quite secretive, but their history isn’t as benign as you’d expect.”

Lily leaned in curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know much, but I remember Charlus mentioning the Potters being protectors of their homeland back in Wales, something about them fending off invasions for centuries, and something about being Warmages. I wasn’t paying attention much. It was the night after I left Grimmauld Place for the last time and wasn’t exactly in the mood to talk about families.”

“Warmages,” Lily whispered. “I’ve heard of them, but I can’t remember where…”

“Well, there were other families in history, but the last man to be thought as one was Grindelwald. Say what you will about him and his plans, he was a damned powerful wizard. Charlus fought him on the continent.”

“He actually fought Grindelwald?”

“Before Albus did,” Sirius confirmed. “My grandfather used to say Grindelwald wanted no part of facing Charlus Potter.”

Lily shook her head.

“None of this makes me feel any better.”

“No, but I stand by what I said. If Harry is going to learn these things, and even pursue a dangerous career, lessons with the likes of Filius will be invaluable.”

Lily would never be pleased by Harry’s choices. She was a mother that had suffered great loss and overcome more than most could ever imagine facing.

Sirius understood it. He too had suffered loss, had been on the very same turbulent journey as her as they’d worked together to raise the son of a man they both missed dearly.

The difference, however, was that Sirius knew that Harry would never be satisfied until justice had been done. He did not doubt that Lily knew it too, but she could not even consider the prospect of her son facing the man that had murdered her husband.

It would inevitably happen.

Voldemort would always want Harry dead, and Harry would never rest until the Dark Lord no longer plagued him and his mother.

The coming years would be fraught with further turmoil, further loss, but Sirius Black remained hopeful that all would be well in the end.

He believed in Harry, believed that he had survived that night for a reason, and not just to be slaughtered years later.

He was pulled from his thoughts as the very boy he’d been pondering arrived with another familiar figure inside the square of Grimmauld Place.

Hary immediately drew his wand, but lowered it when he spotted his godfather, who approached the duo.

“I thought it would be better to travel via the floo directly into Albus’s office,” Sirius explained. “I just need a little drop of blood from you, Headmaster. The wards around my family home are most unpleasant.”

“I have heard the rumours,” Fontaine snorted, drawing his own wand and providing a sample.

Sirius nodded appreciatively and beckoned the two of them to follow.

They looked on as the house revealed itself, and with a few muttered incantations, he placed the drop of Fontaine’s blood on the second step leading towards the front.

It glowed an ominous green briefly, and Sirius entered the house to find it in a much better state than he had lest left it, though still lacking the grandeur it had once possessed.

“This place could do with some fixing,” Harry commented, wrinkling his nose.

“FILTHY HALF-BREEDS!” a voice shrieked in response, and both Harry and Fontaine recoiled at the sudden intrusion.

They looked upon the portrait of Walburga Black in a mixture of curiosity and horror.

“My mother,” Sirius said with a grin. “Believe it or not, she much more pleasant like this than she ever was when she was alive. Oh, shut up, you old sow!”

He flicked his wand towards the painting, and then the curtains to silence her, breathing a sigh of relief as the house fell silent once more.

“Shall we?” he asked amusedly, gesturing towards the kitchen where they would floo to Hogwarts.

(Break)

He wasn’t quite certain how he felt about the impending meeting.

Filius’s biggest regret of his career was that Lily Evans had been unable to continue studying with him. He did not begrudge the woman for marrying James Potter, and the world had been a most unkind place, but such talent should never have been allowed to be wasted.

Of course, it wasn’t her fault.

With the Dark Lord hunting her and her husband, going into hiding was the only option if she wished to survive the war.

He’d been delighted at hearing the news of the birth of her son and equally devastated by the death of James Potter.

Filius had hoped that with the war over, perhaps there would’ve been away for the two of them to resume their work together, but rightfully, she had thought only of the interests of her son, the very boy he would be meeting shortly.

“Are you nervous, Filius?”

“No,” he denied. “I am quite eager to meet him.”

Albus smiled, and both stood as the fireplace flared into life, depositing and ageing man into the office.

“Agilbert!” Albus greeted him enthusiastically, accepting the proffered hand. “I trust your journey was uneventful.”

“As uneventful as you can expect travelling with Harry Potter and Sirius Black,” the man answered amusedly. “It is good to see you, Albus, and you, Professor Flitwick. I followed your career quite keenly when you were on the duelling circuit.”

Filius offered the man a bow.

“Days long gone by,” he chuckled.

Fontaine shook his head.

“I do not doubt you could still wipe the floor with most on the circuit these days. I saw you once in Germany back in the sixties. It was a most inspiring performance.”

Filius remembered that tournament well.

He’d been pitted against the very best from all four corners of the globe and had emerged victorious against all comers, truly cementing his legacy as a Master duellist.

Before the conversation could continue, the fireplace flared into life once more, and it was a boy that arrived this time, one so familiar in so many ways, but different in his.

Harry Potter certainly resembled his father for the most part down to his messy crop of hair, but he was of a slighter build than James had been, and the eyes were those belonging to his mother.

For one so young, he already cut quite impressive figure, stood confidently, and di not shy away from Albus as he approached an offered his hand.

“I must say, Harry, it truly is like looking into the past on the many occasions your father was in this very room.”

“Well, I hope you do not judge me for his misdeeds.”

There it was, that same look of mischief that was rarely absent from James Potter when he had been a student here.

Albus chuckled.

“No, Potter, you have your own misdeeds to prop up your reputation,” Fontaine commented fondly.

“I have no idea what you mean Professor,” Harry denied, his gaze coming to rest on Filius. “Professor Flitwick, my mother has only the highest praise for you. She would often mention you and your teachings when she was tutoring me.”

Filius immediately felt at ease with the boy.

Although he was undeniably James Potter’s son, he was somehow humbler without appearing to be meek, and just as likeable as his mother.

“Lily Evans was undoubtedly the very best student I had the pleasure of teaching,” he responded sincerely. “How is she?”

“Not so pleased about me being here, but she will get used to it, if we can come to an agreement. I think you should invite her here. It would do her good to see you again, Professor.”

“Oh, I have done so many times over the years, Harry, but she has, so far, been unable to do so.”

“I will speak with her,” Harry promised. “She will listen to me.”

Filius offered him an appreciative smile, his attention shifting once more to the fireplace as yet another person entered the office through it.

“Damned elf,” Sirius Black muttered irritably. “Apologies, I was just handling a domestic issue.”

Albus waved him off.

“Think nothing of it. Come, take a seat, I believe there is much for us to discuss.”

Upon doing so, Filius continued observing the boy, and though he did indeed resemble his father quite uncannily, the more he watched him, the more he saw of his mother in his mannerisms, and even in his smile.

“Filius, I believe it should be you to begin the meeting,” Albus decided, leaning back in his chair.

“Well, before I even consider accepting you as a student, Harry, you must understand that I have certain expectations. Of course, I expect you to work to the very best of your abilities, in all of your studies, and for you to understand that these will not be standard classes. Duelling is a taxing art to learn both mentally and physically, and I need to know that you can truly dedicate yourself to it fully.”

“I can,” the boy replied solemnly.

Filius met his gaze.

He always believed you could gain all you needed to know from someone by doing so, and with Hary Potter’s, he saw that steely glint of determination, that desire for knowledge and to be pushed as hard as he could be, and also something that spoke volumes of the boy.

There was just enough of a glint of the warrior spirit he would undoubtedly need; something that Filius’s own ancestors would be acutely aware from the briefest of exchanges.

He nodded thoughtfully.

“We will see,” he mused aloud. “For now, I propose a trial until the Christmas break. During that time, we will both be able to ascertain if this is something we wish to pursue with one another. If either of us do not believe it is right to do so come December, we simply do not proceed beyond.”

Already, he was doing the boy quite the favour in agreeing to the arrangement in the interim.

Filius had never taken on a student in the art of duelling and had never intended to until this particular request had landed in front of him.

“I agree,” the boy responded readily, “and I will prove myself to you, Professor.”

There was that determination again, that resolve he would need if he was to be as exceptional as Filius had heard he was on the path to becoming.

“Lastly, I would like full access to your school reports, grades, and records. I will not waste my time, and I do not wish to offend you, Headmaster Fontaine, but your word is not enough on the matter.”

“You will have all you need,” Fontaine assured him. “I will have it sent over as a priority.”

“Do you have anything to add, Sirius?” Albus asked.

“Only that this arrangement is kept as quiet as possible. I do not think it would be in the interest of anyone else should it become known that Harry is coming here.”

“Indeed,” Albus mused, “but I will need to inform Minerva. Filius?”

Sirius nodded his agreement, and Filius frowned thoughtfully to himself.

“I propose we meet three times weekly for two-hour sessions. I have Sunday, Wednesday, and Fridays free from five am until seven am, local time.”

“That works,” Harry replied. “We have no classes on Sundays, and I have my first two periods free on Wednesday, so losing sleep will not be a problem, and I can go straight to breakfast on Friday before my three classes. I’ll be able to rest before Quodpot training in the evening.”

“That is quite the busy schedule, Harry,” Albus pointed out.

“I know, but it will be worth it.”

“Then it is settled,” Filius declared, standing and offering the boy his hand.

Harry accepted it and even bowed in return.

“I was always fond of your mother, Harry, but that does not mean that I will make this any easier for you.”

“I would be offended if you did, Professor,” the boy replied with a grin.

It was only a few moments later that he, Sirius, and Professor Fontaine took their leave of the office via the fireplace, and Albus looked towards him expectantly.

“What do you think, Filius?” he asked curiously.

“I am intrigued, but I will not pass comment until I see what he is capable of. I do not expect it will take long,” he finished, losing himself in memories of days gone by as he too left the Headmaster’s office, indeed curious, but excited to see what the coming weeks would bring.