A Promise Kept - Chapter 9 - Motivations

Motivations

It was an odd feeling being enveloped in the cloak. It warmed him knowing that it had belonged to his father, but the magic he could feel intermingling with his own was cold, but not uncomfortably intrusive. It spread throughout him almost familiarly, and as Harry wondered around the castle, he felt safe, completely invisible to the outside world, yet troubled by what he had learned.

It wasn’t worry for himself that concerned him so, but what his mother was undoubtedly feeling. As a dutiful son, he had written to her, assured her that he was coping well enough with it, but truthfully, he wasn’t.

Harry was angry.

Angry at the world that allowed such a man to continue existing in whatever form he was, angry that his mother would once more spend her days terrified that Voldemort would again come for him, and her for the sake of posterity.

That did not sit right with Harry.

He would not deny that he was exceedingly protective of his mother, that there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to ensure she did not meet the same fate as James Potter, that there was nothing he wouldn’t do to avenge the man that had given himself for only the hope that his wife and son might live.

It was no easy feat to do so, but he took some calming breaths as he navigated the library and passed into the restricted section without hindrance.

He’d often wondered what was among the shelves that required permission to access, something that was only usually granted to those in their NEWT year, or for extenuating circumstances for those younger.

What could necessitate such measures quickly became clear as he trawled through what was on display, pausing as one title in particular caught his attention.

“Attack and Defend: A Comprehensive Compendium of Magic for Combat,” he whispered.

He did not recognise the name of the author, but as he began flicking through the first few pages of the tome, Harry knew it would prove to be useful.

Now, he only needed to figure out how to take it without its absence being noticed.

No, that would be too risky, and with no other ideas forthcoming, he removed some parchment and a quill. Finding the first five spells he came to, he hurriedly copied the required incantations, wand movements, and what the effects of the spells would be.

Whether or not he would garner any success from his efforts remained to be seen, but with Voldemort undoubtedly out there somewhere, he knew he could not afford to be idle.

The man would come for him, and Harry knew he needed to be ready for that inevitable eventuality, especially being as young and inexperienced as he was.

Perhaps one day he would be able to stand face to face with him, match him where it mattered most, but he was not stupid enough to believe he was ready for such a confrontation now.

No, it would take him several years, likely longer before he would be close to being ready, but his only two choices amounted to whether he would do his utmost to avoid the Dark Lord or be ready for when it came.

Harry had long ago chosen the latter, and though it wasn’t much, this was the beginning of that very journey that would end with the death of one of them.

“That will do, Potter. The others have already hit the showers.”

Harry nodded as he came to a stop, dripping with sweat from the heat of the summer morning.

His breathing was laboured as he reached the waiting Adrian, and he took a deep gulp of water from his waiting bottle.

“For some not wanting to play on the team, you train harder than any of them.”

Harry shrugged.

“I enjoy it.”

“Bullshit. No one enjoys it.”

“Maybe I do.”

Adrian shook his head.

Each morning, despite opting not to play in any of the matches between the houses, Harry would join the Quodpot team for their physical training, where Adrian never failed to push them.

Why he came, he couldn’t be certain, but it had become as much a part of his routine as sneaking out of the common room at night to practice the spells he was still liberating from the restricted section of the library.

In truth, his success had been minimal at best.

Some of the spells he could get a grasp on, but most were significantly beyond his current ability. Not that he allowed his failings to deter him. If anything, it only made him more determined to succeed.

It would take time, but thus far, although he often found himself frustrated, he was pleased with the progress he was making. He doubted there were many in the school of casting such spells, but Harry would before his time here was done.

“Is your mother coming today?”

Harry nodded.

“Along with my godfather.”

“I’m sure the Professors will only have good things to say about you. You attend your classes, you get your work done, and you don’t cause too much trouble, well, none that can be proved at least.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Adrian chuckled amusedly.

“So, that wasn’t you put itching powder in Jennings’ underwear?”

“How would I get to his underwear? Even better, why would I want to?”

Adrian grimaced at the thought before shaking his head.

“I don’t know, Potter, but anyone that upsets you seems to get their comeuppance. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“Well, at least we will have a sharp Auror around when you finish your training.”

“Wouldn’t you like to be an Auror?”

“I’ve not given it much thought. I don’t know what I want to do.”

“Get yourself playing some of the games and you might just be good enough to turn pro at Quodpot.”

“Maybe,” Harry conceded. “For now, I’m just enjoying the training.”

“Like I said, no one enjoys the training. Why do you do it to yourself? You must have a reason.”

“Enemies. I expect I will have plenty of them when I return home to Britain.”

“I already feel sorry for them,” Adrian chuckled, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “Well, if you ever need me, Potter, I’ll only be an owl away. Now, hit the showers before breakfast. You smell of sweat and revenge.”

Harry laughed as he did what he was bid, stripping off and revelling in the coldness of the water running off him. He was sore from his efforts, had ben sore these past six months since he’d begun training with the house team, but he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

Maybe being able to run fast and far enough would one day be the difference between life and death.

Not that he intended to do so.

When he was ready to face Voldemort and his followers, there would be no running for Harry.

They would pay for what they had done to his father and the misery they had caused his mother.

He would accept nothing less than that for all that had donned a bone-white mask and chose to follow a monster.

The Ministry of Magic may have forgiven them or bought their feeble excuses, but Harry would not.

No, they would reap what they had sown. Perhaps then his mother could truly come to terms with what had happened, and then she would no longer have to live in fear as she had these past years.

(Break)

She watched as the flustered Sirius made his way back towards the house, shooting furtive glances over his shoulder as he did so. When he entered the kitchen, he sunk into one of the chairs at the table and shook his head.

“Do you regret upping the security?” she asked amusedly.

“Not at all,” he replied dismissively. “I just didn’t expect them to be so eager to protect, even against me.”

“If they were really trying to protect the property from you, you’d probably be dead.”

Sirius conceded the point with a nod, shooting another glance out of the kitchen window.

“Now I know how Ted feels when he is here and having to watch out for Aurelius,” he muttered. “At least you’re a little safer. They seem to like you, and they’ll like Harry. He’ll probably become their leader or something.”

“You’re being dramatic, Sirius. Like I said, if they didn’t like you, they wouldn’t let you near them.”

“I suppose that’s true. How long until we leave?”

“Around an hour. You should probably clean up.”

Sirius nodded as he stood.

“Nervous?”

“A little,” Lily admitted, “but I know we will be safe enough. I certainly won’t be missing this.”

“Worried about what he has been up to?”

“No,” Lily sighed. “He is a little too much like you and James for my liking, but…”

“Harry is like you too to balance it out?”

“Exactly,” Lily said with a smile. “Anyway, you should get ready. I will not have you making us late.”

“I’m going,” Sirius huffed, hurrying from the kitchen.

When she was alone once more, Lily released a deep breath to calm herself.

She wasn’t truly worried about being in public, nor what Harry’s professors would have to say about him but given that she had scarcely left the ranch much these past ten years, she could not deny it made her nervous doing so.

Nonetheless, it would be worth it. She would get to learn how Harry was doing at school, see the castle for herself, and more importantly, see her son for the first time in several months.

It had been difficult enough letting him go, but the absences were truly trying for her.

Still, she took comfort in knowing that Harry was happy.

He wrote each day and had never shown any desire to return home sooner than was required of him. Lily didn’t know how she felt about that, had often wondered if she’d been a little too overprotective of the boy, but knowing what she did now about what had happened at Hogwarts, she knew she’d done the right thing.

She hoped Harry would understand that, that he wouldn’t hold the way she’d chosen to raise him against her when he was older.

No, he wouldn’t.

Of everything Lily was certain, it was that Harry truly loved her, that he understood her better than anyone else, and that when the time came, it would be him to protect her the way she had been doing for him all these years.

That in itself worried the woman greatly, but as well as her son knew her, she knew him better.

At times, Harry was a little too brave for his own good, a little too bold for her liking, but it was simply who he was, and Lily knew there was nothing that would change that.

(Break)

Albus had not expected Quirinus to linger, and he had not been wrong in his assessment. For the better part of half a year, he’d taken time to search for the man in the hopes of putting an end to his foolishness, but his efforts had been in vain.

Quirinus was no longer in Britain, and where he might be, Albus did not know where to begin.

“There is no telling where he might be. The Dark Lord was never forthcoming with even his most loyal.”

Albus nodded gravely at Severus’s words.

Tom had always been a loner, had never brought anyone fully into his confidence, even those that had been following him since his days within the castle.

Albus was perhaps the one person who, begrudgingly, knew him best, and he was at a loss as to what his former student might do next.

Truthfully, he believed he was right in his initial assessment. Tom would do his utmost to remain undetected by the world at large; a frustrating revelation which would require Albus to continue making discreet enquiries and watching for any sign of the Dark Lord’s inevitable return.

“How long do you believe Quirinus can sustain him?” he asked.

Severus was an expert on the Dark Arts, more so than Albus himself, who’s previous calculations had been far from the mark.

The Potions Master shook his head.

“Not indefinitely but given what little is known about such a thing, I cannot say with any degree of certainty, Headmaster. Years, perhaps even decades, but I do not believe so. Such magic is parasitic, and to survive, it must feed upon the one hosting it”

Albus hummed, a frown creasing his brow as his gaze shifted towards the crackling flames of the fireplace.

“Then there is little more we can do, for now.”

Severus nodded his agreement before leaving the office, and Albus released a deep breath.

Tom had taken quite the risk in coming here, a mistake on his part, but the man seldom made the same one twice. Hogwarts, he hoped, was safe for the time being, but there was a boy out there that never would be so long as the Dark Lord existed in any manner that allowed him to be a threat.

He was that now, even without a body to call his own, and that very thought troubled Albus deeply, no less than the man ever had when he’d existed as his own separate being.

(Break)

The first-year students were oddly quiet, most of them nervous, but all of them equally excited to greet their parents when they arrived in the coming moments.

Harry was among them.

It had been too long since he’d last seen his mother, and though he wrote to her daily, twice most days, it wasn’t the same as waking up and having breakfast with the woman who was raising him.

Even so, it was odd to think she would be here.

Ilvermorny had been the one thing he’d had to himself throughout his life, and just the thought of her walking into the Great Hall made him just a little more nervous than he wished to admit.

“Scared, Potter?” Adrian teased. “I know I was the first time my parents came, but you’ll be fine. All of you will be. You’re a credit to our house.”

“He’s only saying that because he don’t want to deal with angry parents whose children might just tell them how horrible he is,” Olivia declared.

“I’m not horrible,” Adrian denied hotly, clearing his throat before speaking in a gentler tone. “I am a prefect. Sometimes, I have to be firm with you all, and you damned well need it.”

“Poor Bunny is feeling defensive.”

“Don’t call me that!”

It hadn’t taken long for Adrian and Alexandra to learn of the nicknames most of the house had taken to using when referring to them. They had not been pleased, and even less so knowing that it had been Harry and Olivia who encouraged the use of them.

Harry stifled a bout of laughter as Adrian levelled a glare at him, and fortunately, they were interrupted by the arrival of the first wave of parents.

Amongst them were a pair that Hary could see were Olivia’s mother and father.

She very much took after the former, and the girl flushed as she was swept into the woman’s arms.

“Oh, Liv, you are so grown up!” she gushed, much to the amusement of her husband.

“Mom!” Olivia groaned, her blush deepening.

“Well, she’s right,” her father declared proudly. “You’re growing up too quickly for my liking. None of these boys are sniffing around you, are they?”

His gaze flickered amongst the other first years, many of whom were too busy with their own parents.

“Please, let the ground swallow me now!” Olivia muttered.

This time, Harry failed to hide his amusement.

“Shut up, Harry.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he protested.

“You were going to!”

“Maybe,” Harry said thoughtfully.

“If you dare…!”

She let the threat hang, but there was no malice in it. Olivia often threatened him. It was something that had become part of his day since he’d arrived back in September.

“Ah, this must be the Mr Potter you told us so much about,” Olivia’s mother interjected with a grin.

Olivia hid her face in her hands whilst her father laughed.

“Olivia tells us you’re quite the flier.”

“I’m not the worst at it.”

“He taught me, and Isabelle,” another voice broke in, and Harry was greeted by the sight of two other familiar girls, each with their mothers and fathers with them.

Marisa’s muggle parents looked uncomfortable and out of place, undoubtedly taken aback by all they were seeing.

Both of Isabelle’s parents were magical and dressed as such in formal robes. The girl was more nervous than any of the others, save for Marisa, who seemed to be doing her utmost to get her parents to relax.

“He did?” Olivia’s father asked. “Now, that is quite something. Ah, my apologies, I’m Bryan Parker, Olivia’s father, and this is my wife, Celestina.”

“Jaques Moreau, and my wife, Valerie,” Isabelle’s father introduced himself and her mother before shifting his attention to Marisa.

“My father Angel and mother Maria,” she said shyly.

Jaques offered both a warm smile as she shook Angel’s hand.

“I expect this is all quite overwhelming for you,” he chuckled, eliciting a nod from both.

“We only discovered our little princesa was a witch around a year ago,” her father explained, “and now she is flying brooms and making potions. We still do not know what to make of it all.”

His accent was heavy, but his words discernible.

“Well, your daughter is at a fine school here, and is highly thought of by mine,” Jaques assured him.

“And ours,” Olivia’s father added.

Marisa’s parents relaxed somewhat, and Harry did not miss that her mother seemed to be watching him.

“And you are Harry Potter?” she asked.

“Is Harry Potter in trouble with you?” he returned.

“No. He has been very kind to our daughter and made her feel welcomed here.”

“I can pass on the message…”

“Shut up. Harry,” Marisa huffed. “That is him.”

“A troublemaker,” her father said amusedly.

Harry shook his head.

“No, I spend most of my time keeping this lot out of trouble. It’s hard when it is only me and Wendell to do that.”

“We do not get into trouble,” Isabelle protested.

“Because I’m so good at keeping you out of it.”

The girl narrowed her eyes at him, and much to his relief, it was her father who came to his rescue.

“I get the very same look from her mother,” he sighed. “Now, I have been most interested to meet you, Harry Potter. Of course, your story is an exceptional one, but it is how you have helped my daughter that interests me. Thank you for teaching her to fly. It was the thing she was most worried about.”

“It wasn’t easy,” Harry sighed.

“I do not doubt it,” Jaques chuckled. “You are in different houses, no? How did you meet if you do not share classes?”

“Well, these three dragged me into their carriage when I arrived,” Harry answered. “Poor Wendell had already been taken by them, and Maggie. They’re both over there,” he explained, nodding to where the other boy usually found with them and girl were waiting for their parents to arrive.

“We did not drag you into our carriage!” Olivia denied. “Marisa did that!”

“I did not!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Harry interjected. “I should’ve run away when I had the chance.”

“You would be lost without us,” Isabelle retorted.

“Maybe,” Harry returned thoughtfully, “or my life would be peaceful.”

He said nothing else as he found himself being subjected to glares from each of the girls.

“You are outnumbered, Harry,” Jaques pointed out.

“I’m always outnumbered with this lot.”

“In my experience, it is best to keep quiet when you are outnumbered,” Jaques urged.

“I have tried to teach him that, but sometimes a harsh lesson is needed.”

“Sirius!” Harry greeted the man enthusiastically, though his eyes immediately fell onto his mother.

Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around the woman, as pleased to see her as he was relieved.

“You’ve grown so much,” she whispered. “I do you have been behaving, Harry.”

“When do I ever misbehave?”

“When you lit my underwear on fire,” Sirius reminded him.

“You make it sound worse than it was.”

“I was still wearing them!”

“That’s true,” Harry conceded, once more fighting the urge to laugh.

Sirius pouted, evidently still not having forgiven him for the slight.

It wasn’t as though Harry had done it intentionally.

He’d been only five and Sirius had tried to force him into a jumper he didn’t want to wear.

“He sounds like quite the handful,” Jaques commented.

“You have no idea,” Sirius muttered. “Sirius Black, Harry’s godfather, and this is mother, Lily Potter.”

“But of course,” Jaques acknowledged. “Your son has made quite the impression on us already.”

Lily quirked an eyebrow at Harry, and Jaques held up his hands placatingly.

“In the best way, Lady Potter,” he assured her. “He has proven to be quite the credit to you. Both of you.”

“Did you really light his underwear on fire?” Marisa asked.

Harry nodded.

“I did, and I’m almost certain I did it on purpose.”

The girl laughed, giving her mother’s hand a squeeze. They were the only muggles amongst the group, and evidently still feeling quite out of place.

“Marisa tells me that you own a landscaping business.”

“I do,” her father declared proudly. “It is hard work, but honest work.”

Harry nodded appreciatively, and only a few moments later, the group was interrupted by the arrival of some of their professors.

“Miss Parker, I would speak with you and your parents now,” Professor Day, the Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor requested.

Olivia followed the man nervously, and Professor Goode took Marisa’s parents to where he’d set up his own small table to hold his conferences for Transfiguration.

“Mr Potter, you will have your time with me first,” Professor Clarke instructed, offering his mother and Sirius a smile. “Come along.”

For the most part, Harry found that she was a welcoming and kind woman, but he had seen a less pleasant side to her when dolling out punishments to those that broke the rules.

Thus far, he had not found himself provoking her ire and would not do so if it could be avoided.

Even so, he felt nervous once more, and he knew it was because he did not wish to disappoint his mother, who herself was quite uncomfortable being outside the safety of the ranch they had spent more than a decade on.

(Break)

She could barely take her eyes off her son.

In the past six months that had gone by, it was incredible how much he had grown, and Lily was in a state of awe at just how much he resembled his father.

James Potter had always been handsome; undeniably quite cocky, arrogant at times, and annoyingly certain of himself, but handsome, nonetheless.

Harry was following in the man’s footsteps, and were James alive now, she did not doubt that he would be proud of their son.

She offered the boy something of a sad smile, and he took her hand as Professor Clarke gestured for the trio to sit. For several moments, she flicked through a thick stack of parchment before placing it back on the desk, and eyeing Harry curiously.

“I expect you both already know that Harry garnered the interest of three of the school totems during his sorting. It is quite an uncommon thing to happen, quite unheard of, in fact. Although it may seem rather unfair, it means that I and the other professors have been watching Harry closely, and I must say, he has impressed us all.”

“He has?” Sirius asked.

Professor Clarke nodded as she beamed at Harry.

“Already, he is proving to be an exceptional young wizard, and I suspect we have barely scratched the surface of what he is capable of. It is not in our nature here to push our first years, even those that show great promise, too far into their studies. Tell me, Harry, how far ahead have you read in the syllabus we offer.

“To third year in all subjects, but I’m working through the fourth year stuff in Charms, Transfiguration, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Potions.”

Professor Clarke appeared to be as taken aback as Lily and Sirius were.

“And you are able to cast the magic in each discipline that requires a wand?”

Harry nodded and Professor Clarke shook her head.

“I am not as surprised as you’d expect,” she sighed. “During our very first lesson, you demonstrated a keen mind and instinctual gasp of the task I set you, performing it just as good as any of the older students. Oh, he praised you for the work you have done with him, Mrs Potter, and I do not doubt it has benefited him, but Harry’s talent goes beyond being prepared. It is exceptional in Charms, as it is in Transfiguration from what Professor Goode has told me. He says that you are equally talented in the subject, but it is also your work ethic that pushes you even further ahead. I must say, you are doing exceptionally well, Harry. You’ve certainly earned the honour of being the highest graded student for this year.”

Lily positively beamed at her son.

Harry had always been quite driven, as ambitious as both she and James had been in the subjects they thrived in.

“Your father would be proud of you, Harry,” Sirius said sincerely. “By the time he was in his third year, he could’ve walked through a NEWT in Transfiguration. Even McGonagall could not fault him in his work. He is the reason we had Padfoot and Prongs when we did.”

Harry smiled.

Watching Sirius transform into a dog had been one of his favourite things as a small boy and learning that his father had been able to do the same as a stag had left him in awe.

“I’m sorry, am I missing something?” Professor Clarke asked curiously.

“Family secret,” Sirius said conspiratorially, “but if Harry really is as talented as his mother and father, you’re in for many surprises along the way. Had the war not happened, James would’ve completed a mastery in Transfiguration under Minerva McGonagall, and Lily the same in Charms with Filius Flitwick.”

“Both revered masters in their fields,” Professor Clarke praised. “Well, I think that I will be monitoring your progress closely, Harry. I would ask that you meet with me this evening at eight pm in my office. I am eager to see what it is you are capable of after only one year of schooling. I will ask that Professors Day and Goode join us. Other than that, all I can say is well done to you. Once more, you have proven just why three of the school totems were so keen to accept you into their houses. I expect we will have an interesting six years with you here. Please, I can already see that Professor Goode is waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Professor Clarke,” Lily offered appreciatively.

She’d known that Harry was an eager learner, that he’d had odd bouts of magic throughout his childhood, but she had not expected such praise to be heaped upon him.

At first, his little feats had been concerning, but having discussed them in-depth with Tullius, the Healer had assured her that the magic that lingered within her son courtesy of the Dark Lord could not influence him in such a way.

She wrapped an arm around his shoulder as she steered him towards the waiting Transfiguration professor, lost for words of just how proud of him she was.

(Break)

“As you can see, Marisa is working above what we would expect from a student coming from a muggle family. She has settled in well, has made some close friends, and works hard in her studies.”

Her father nodded.

“I’m sorry, we are still a little lost on everything. We understand that she is a witch, that there are many things she can do that we never will be able to, but what does this all mean for her future?”

Professor Goode nodded understandingly.

“Well, there is nothing stopping Marisa from pursuing a career in anything magical. She could become a Healer, a lawyer, an Auror, that is a magical police officer. Her career options are as endless in our world as they are yours, Mr Souza.”

Her father smiled as he nodded in response.

“Thank you. This is all so new to us, and we are curious.”

“It is understandable,” Professor Goode sympathised, “and please, do feel free to write to us if you have any further questions. We are always willing to offer our assistance where possible.”

“We will, and thank you, Professor Goode.”

Marisa breathed a sigh of relief.

She had known this would be hard on her parents.

They’d not been given much time to come to terms with her being a witch before she’d left home for Ilvermorny back in September, and though she had done her best to answer the questions they’d had over the Christmas break, she too was still finding her feet in this new, strange but marvellous world.

“Is there any reason they are all so fascinated with your friend?” her mother asked curiously. “They are all staring at Harry and his parents.”

Marisa smiled sadly as she nodded.

“Harry is famous in our world,” she explained. “Something happened to him when he was just a baby. An evil man tried to kill his family, but somehow, Harry stopped him, but not before his father was murdered.”

“A baby stopped a grown man?”

Marisa nodded.

“It’s confusing, but Harry did the impossible. His name is known all across the magical world, but he doesn’t like it. He avoids people mostly, but he always makes time for us.”

“He taught you how to fly. Can you show us?”

Marisa nodded eagerly.

She had come to enjoy it, and ventured out of the castle often with Isabelle, Maggie, and Olivia when the Quodpot teams were not training for a few turns around the stadium.

She had Harry to thank for that. And she was grateful that she had all but forced the boy to sit with them in their carriage on the way to the school.

Marisa knew her experience would’ve been much different had Harry not been a part of it thus far, and as she watched him lead his mother from the Great Hall with his godfather, she smiled.

He cared deeply about the woman, was protective of her, just as she was with her own parents.

Harry truly understood the concept of family, which did not surprise her given the tragedy that had all but torn his apart, but it was one of the things she appreciated about him.

Despite his aloofness and rather fierce independence, Harry had taken the time to help her settle into the wizarding world, and Marisa knew her parents were just as grateful as she was.

“You really ride brooms?” her father asked amusedly as they reached the broom shed.

“I know, I couldn’t believe it either,” she chuckled as she kicked off from the ground, revelling in the freedom flying provided.

(Break)

“Mrs Potter, your son has been blessed with exceptionally fast instincts and shows all the promise I could hope for in a student that will be an excellent practitioner in the art of duelling. I expect in the coming years; we will see him to continue his development his skills, and I would wager that he will truly be an incredible wizard in his own right. It is not often I say this, but Harry has potential, Mrs Potter, true potential to be a man of note beyond the titles he may or may not carry.”

Lily offered her son a warm smile.

“It is not only his dedication in class and outside of it, but he understands the physical demands of magic. He has taken to training with the Quodpot team each morning and three nights per week to supplement his studies,” Professor Day continued appraisingly. “I cannot fault him for his efforts, nor the work and results he produces.”

Lily released a deep sigh as she stared into the cup of tea she was nursing.

“I thought you would be happy with what the professors had to say about him.”

“I am, Sirius, but I cannot sit and pretend I do not understand his motivation. Yes, I know he enjoys magic, has more talent than I knew, apparently, but his motivation is…”

“Voldemort,” Sirius broke in, “and his followers.”

Lily nodded as she worried her bottom lip.

“He’s going to…”

“Stop, we don’t know what he’s going to do,” Sirius pointed out.

Lily shot him a pointed look and Sirius deflated.

“When he is older and if he makes that decision, you know as well as I do there won’t be a thing either of us can say or do to stop him. Voldemort is out there, and he will come for Harry again. I for one am so proud that he has no intention of cowering away from him, that he is already taking steps to be prepared for it.”

“He knows,” Lily murmured. “He somehow knows that he is out there, almost as though he can feel he is alive.”

“We don’t know that for certain,” Sirius said comfortingly, “and even if he does, it is better he is prepared for what is to come. To put your mind at ease, I will have Tullius check him over during the summer, but you should be focusing on the good in all this. Harry is happy, healthy, and a damned sight stronger than we could’ve hoped for. He is thriving at school, Lily, and he is working harder than you could’ve expected of him.”

Lily nodded, and the memory of the night Harry had woken and made his bold promise came to the forefront of her mind.

Her son, the babe who had survived against what all believed to be the impossible had made a solemn vow that he would one day protect her from the evil that had plagued them, and now, he seemed to be doing all he could to live up to those words.

She was proud of him, proud of all he was doing and the young man he was becoming, but that did not stop her from being so utterly terrified of the thought of him out in the world, facing what so few could claim to have survived.

(Break)

“It is as I suspected, Quirinus. The school is beyond our reach.”

He could sense nothing, could discern no magic, not even the faintest of traces through the thick fog laid out before them.

It was troubling to say the least, but the Dark Lord believed that he simply could not discern any of the magic because he was not in a body of his own.

As useful as Quirrell was, residing within him hindered the Dark Lord, weakened him considerably, and dulled his perception of the world around him.

For now, however, he must tolerate it until he could find a suitable alternative, which meant that for now, Harry potter was indeed out of reach.

It was of no real consequence.

One day, the Dark Lord would figure out a way out of his bind, and that would only make the fall of his enemies all the more enjoyable.

Just for now, Potter would live, but soon enough, the boy would die at his hands, fulfilling the prophecy he had pursued to his own detriment, but the Dark Lord did not make the same mistake twice.

Patience was key for the time being, but when he was unshackled, his might and ruthlessness would prevail once more.

“A matter of time,” he murmured. “Let us leave, Quirinus. It will do as no good being discovered here.”