Chapter Text
"Okay," says Harry one afternoon, as they're both sitting around the table eating lunch--Or: Caelum is eating lunch. Harry is one-fifths eating lunch and four-fifths trying to turn their kitchen table into a serial killer board.
Around her is a spread of newspaper clippings and mostly-unreadable notes. They don't seem to be about potions (for once) or the top-secret Fade cure that she still won't tell him about, so Caelum is mostly ignoring them, but he does notice a fragment of Lord Riddle's face on one of the clippings, which strikes him as a weird choice of subject matter.
"--So, I used to be the RBC."
Caelum isn't actually listening, so it takes a second for his mind to catch what she's just said and play it back again. His mind screeches to a shuddering halt, and he drops his bowl of cereal. It shatters on the floor. "You what?"
"I used to be the RBC," she says again, without any special emphasis--or, indeed, any drama at all to suggest she has just dropped the secret of a lifetime. In fact, her focus seems to be narrowed entirely onto a space in the air somewhere between her pumpkin juice and the precarious tower of papers where she's perched her inkpot, eyebrows furrowed into the intense I-am-solving-a-problem face that she always seemed to be wearing right before she does something either brilliant or ridiculous.
Caelum flails a little. "You can't just say that! You could--you could get arrested!"
Harry gives him a look. "Pucey hasn't been arrested yet, and he's been brewing blatantly illegal poisons in the guild labs without proper authorization for at least the last three months."
That is not even the most illegal thing Pucey has done in the last three months, but right now, that is beside the point, so Caelum doesn't say anything. "Pucey doesn't have half the Auror department after him!"
She just shrugs, popping a bite of waffle into her mouth. "You're not going to tell them."
Caelum flails some more. "And how do you know that? You haven't even sworn me to secrecy!"
"Mutually assured destruction," she says through a mouthful of food. "If you tell them, I just report you for brewing illegal potions."
Caelum doubts she would actually do that, but her point is made. She knows way too much about illegal garbage he's done for trust to really be an obstacle to admissions like this. Hey, you committed a major felony? Join the club! I accidentally sold experimental potions to a terrorist group!
"You can't be the Rigel Black Child. I hate the Rigel Black Child."
"The Rigel Black Child is me," says Harry.
Caelum stares at her for a second, trying to imagine her pulling any of the stunts the RBC had.
Harry fighting a werewolf with a potion like a literal maniac. Harry greeting her vampire kidnapper on the stage of the final Triwizard task. Never mind. He can totally see it.
"--Wait," says Caelum. “Does this mean you didn't spend the last four years living in the alleys as a feral homeless child?"
He's not sure whether to be affronted or gratified by that idea. On the one hand, it is somewhat of a relief to know that Harry Potter might not have actually eclipsed his potions skills while living out of a gutter in Knockturn Alley. On the other, he has grown very used to the idea of a wild Harry living on the streets while teaching herself free-brewing and testing experimental potions on herself. He's not entirely sure he wants to know how she got to be the way she is if she'd actually been living at Hogwarts that entire time.
"No," she says. "Well, I did for a month, once. But other than that it was only summers. And I wasn't homeless," she adds almost as an afterthought.
"Well," Caelum says, and groans. He lets his head fall forward onto the table.
Well. This explained why Black had been so ill-mannered, for one. And so freakishly good at potions that Snape would have bothered to mentor him.
He thinks he may even be able to forgive some of his entirely abominable behavior, knowing that it had been Harry the entire time. She was entirely uncivilized. If it really had been her, it was honestly surprising she had pretended to be a pureblood as well as she had.
"Are you angry?" asks Harry, observing him as he breathes in the scent of the wooden-lacquer, face still pressed against the tabletop.
"No," he says.
His girlfriend is the RBC. He is living with the most wanted fugitive in Britain in his apartment. He wonders how his life had gotten to this point.
And he had thought it was bad when it was only her father who was after her.
"So," he says, making the very intentional decision to Not Think About That. "Is there any particular reason you're telling me this now?"
"Yes, actually," she says. She glances down at the clippings on the table. "Riddle has announced an award ceremony for the victors. Apparently, they're still carrying on with the world tour."
Caelum finally lifts his head from the table. "But aren't you missing?"
Her. Him. The Rigel Black Child.
Screw this.
"Yes," Harry says, fiddling with her wand in her hand. "But Rigel swore an Unbreakable Vow."
He stares at her blankly. "You what."
Caelum swears. He's not even going to try anymore.
"It was for a good reason!" Harry says, flushing.
"Yes." Caelum squeezes his eyes shut. "Right."
"It was for the marriage law, okay?" she says. "He promised me if I won he wouldn't try to pass it."
Caelum stares at her blankly. "But he did try to pass it."
She flushes even deeper. "He took advantage of a loophole."
Caelum resists the urge to smash his head against the table a second. "An Unbreakable Vow."
"I did get something out of it," she says. "He had to publicly denounce the terrorist group that attacked the world cup. And, it worked in the end; he can’t try to put the marriage law through the Wizengamot a second time, or anything else restricting non-pureblood’s employment or healthcare rights.”
Well, that's something. Even if it's not nearly enough.
"Harry," he says. "You are aware that when you break an Unbreakable Vow, you die?"
She makes a face at him. "I didn't actually have much of a choice at the time, okay? He was threatening my family.” She tosses her hair out of her face. “Anyway, I already did it, so now we just have to deal with the consequences."
Caelum drags his fingers through his hair. "These consequences, being?"
"I have to go on this tour,” she says. A second later, she cocks her head to the side, nose crinkling. "Or at least I have to accept the tour? It's possible I could get away with just going to the awards ceremony."
Caelum sighs."And you're telling me this why?"
"Well, if I disappear for two months, it's going to be suspicious, right? I'm going to need you to cover for me." She pauses. "Also, you would notice."
"Right," says Caelum, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So what, exactly, did you promise?"
He doubts Lord Riddle had left her as big of a loophole as he'd apparently manipulated her into giving him, but with a vow, the exact wording was always important.
"To 'compete to the best of my ability in any and all tasks required of a designated champion." she says. "Assuming I was chosen at all. Which, of course, I was, because the entire thing was rigged."
"Well, that's easy;” he says. “It's not a competition. Ergo, you just don't show up."
Harry’s lips press together. "The Vow doesn't like the sound of that."’
And this was why you didn't swear unbreakable vows.
"Alright then," Caelum says, pushing himself back in his chair and staring at the table. "I guess it's reading that as 'you have to participate in all tasks'. But there still isn’t an actual scoring metric or anything for an awards ceremony, so that part of the vow is pretty much void."
Harry's eyes light up with something like realization. "You’re saying there are no actual standards for my participation."
Caelum, ridiculously, has the image of Harry accepting an award from Riddle in shorts and his old Durmstrang sweater pop into his head.
“Maybe if the vow said perform instead of compete," he says, "but if Lord Riddle wasn’t smart enough to specify that, there’s no reason he should be able to hold you to it."
"All I have to do is accept it, then," she says, a slightly manic grin spreading slowly across her face. "There's nothing saying I physically have to be there at all. And if the magic decides I do anyway, Riddle won't know about it. No one will question me showing up to watch."
"...So you're planning to..?"
"Make Archie do it," Harry said, bobbing her head. "I'll write a letter for him to read or something. He can accept on my behalf."
Caelum frowns. “Couldn’t that get him in trouble?”
He most definitely does not actually care about the junior Black getting in trouble, but he is their source of hair for the partial polyjuice potion. For that reason, and that reason alone, Caelum would prefer to keep him from getting arrested.
Harry waves away his concerns. “No, we just won’t warn him. If he genuinely doesn’t know what we’re planning, then he can honestly tell the Aurors when they ask that he hasn’t been in contact with me."
Caelum doesn’t want to know how exactly she justifies that twist of logic. Oh well. Archie had somehow almost entirely escaped consequences the first time around, aside from a few fines--no doubt mostly due to her genius--so he figures he'll trust her to it.
"Alright," he says. "But we're not bringing Pucey."
***
Of course, Pucey comes anyway.
So does Bannet, which annoys Caelum less than he would have thought it would. Bannet, for all that he's a common mudblood, at least seems to possess some measure of common sense. Caelum mentally nominates him as the one responsible for dragging off Pucey when he once again becomes too out of it to function.
(He hasn't spotted any alcohol on him yet, but Caelum has no doubt it's there. It always is, with Pucey.)
Harry has brought popcorn. Caelum steals a handful of it when he sees Granger coming towards them.
He can see even from a distance that her face is bright red, and is not surprised when, on finally reaching their little group, the first thing she does is place her hands on her hips and turn to glare at Harry. "Where is Archie? He was supposed to meet me here fifteen minutes ago!"
Harry shrugs. "He got a letter this morning that got him really worked up. Something about Rigel? You can probably stop waiting for him, if he hasn't shown up yet."
Granger harrumphs at that, but, disappointingly, doesn't leave. It doesn't look like she's going to.
Great. They've accidentally absorbed yet another unwanted addition into their party. Caelum wonders if he should expect Casillas next.
Hermione and Harry start chattering together, and soon enough, Bannet joins them, the conversation turning towards some A.I.M. thing Caelum doesn't care about. He sighs, wishing for some sort of distraction, and then immediately regrets it when he spots a white-blonde head bobbing in the crowd and slowly moving towards them.
"Cousin!" Draco Malfoy exclaims, an uncannily bright smile on his face. Caelum is suddenly and abruptly reminded of his weird experience with the boy's father at the Malfoy summer garden party.
It is something he does not at all wish to repeat.
He shudders and takes a step away from him, and the boy physically wilts.
"Malfoy," he says coolly.
As soon as he's said it, Caelum wishes he hadn't acknowledged the boy at all, as he instantly turns back to him with a pleading, hopeful look. "Won't you call me Draco? We are cousins, after all."
Caelum is growing increasingly disturbed with this by the moment. The last time he'd had anything approaching a conversation with his cousin, the other boy had nothing for him but dirty looks and sniping, still not having forgiven him for his feud with Rigel.
Harry steps between them, a concerned furrow on her brow. "Are you okay?"
She raises a hand, as if to check his forehead for a fever, but he practically leaps away from her, pulling his cloak tighter around himself and eyeing her as if threatened.
"What is she doing here?!?" He asks, shooting a distressed look at Caelum.
His tone is more surprised than disgusted, which saves him from the full force of Caelum's annoyance, but there's still enough of it to forcefully evaporate any shred of sympathy Caelum may have had left for his presence.
"Harry," Caelum says, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her possessively into his side. "Is here because she is my girlfriend and I is an extremely tolerable human being. You, however--"
Harry slips out of his grip and takes him by the hand instead, smiling up at him. "Why don't you introduce me to your cousin, Caelum?"
Draco bristles at her. "We've met before, half-blood!"
Caelum whirls on him, baring his teeth. "You," he says, "Will treat her with the proper respect, you wormy Hogwarts slime."
Harry squeezes his hand. "Caelum--"
He ignores her. If he thinks he's going to stand by and just let her be insulted like that, she has another thing coming. "Harry is worth twelve of you, you absolute--"
Harry puts a hand over his mouth.
"No," says Hermione, fire lit in her eyes as she watches Caelum and Draco. "Let him keep going."
Pucey chews loudly on a piece of Harry's popcorn.
"No," Harry says, lowering her hand. "This isn't a time to fight. This is supposed to be a celebration, right?"
She looks around at all of them, smile just a little too bright to be genuine. "Why don't you join us?" she says to Draco, taking him by the hand. "Archie seems to have disappeared, so we're down a person.
Draco looks down uneasily at Harry's hand around his, then glances up at Caelum and doesn't let go.
"Right!" says Harry. "Let's go find some seats!"
Their entire group follows her like an awkward trail of ducklings as she leads them all down past the security checkpoints and down to the broad, flat area near the lake where an innumerable number of chairs have been set up in front of a wooden dais that rather tackily resembles the platform the Rigel Black Child--Harry--had been transported to after the final task. Caelum wonders what the designer had been thinking with that move.
Draco looks entirely lost as Harry pulls him along behind her, speechless as she begins to monologue at him in a cheery-bright tone that matches her smile.
Caelum glares at him. He should have brought Treeslider. No one else here is appreciating his presence.
He steals Harry's popcorn bucket back from Pucey and eats another mouthful, aggressively crunching the pieces between his teeth, but his temper is assuaged somewhat when, reaching the seats, Harry pulls him down to sit on her and Draco's other side.
"Thank you for introducing me to your cousin, Caelum," she says, pecking him on the cheek. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
Draco's skin darkens to a deep red at her other side. "This is not--"
"Oh, don't bother," says Harry. "Caelum denied we were friends when we first met too, and look where we are now!"
Draco sputters further.
"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure you two were actually friends," says Pucey, reaching between Caelum and Harry's shoulders from the row behind them to steal more popcorn. "He was just in denial."
"Do you doubt the power of my friendship, Pucey?" Harry says, turning sideways in her seat to smile at him beautifically.
Draco shrinks away a bit, and rightfully so. There is something terrifying about that expression when Harry is wearing it.
A couple seconds later, they all settle down as Lord Riddle stands up on the stage, the sound of him clearing his throat broadcasted out across the audience with a Sonorous charm.
"People of the Wizarding World," he says, "We are here today to honor some of the most notable among us.."
He looks happier than he should. That can't be a good thing.
Maybe he suspects Rigel will be showing up. Caelum hopes so; if he is, he's in for a lovely surprise
Caelum tunes out the rest of his speech, choosing instead to watch the twitching tendrils of what he assumes to be the Giant Squid from under the lake, only bothering to pay attention again when, after a flurry of clapping, the other two champions are led onto the stage. Riddle gives Owens his award first, launching into another overlong speech, and Caelum gets distracted again.
"Do you think he'll come?" Bannet whispers to Pucey.
Pucey bites down on another mouthful of popcorn, with a loud crunch that entirely defeats the purpose of Bannet's whispering. "Probably. I would. Who wouldn't want to go on a free world tour? And that rod thing looks sick."
"You make me sick," Caelum mutters at him.
"ShhSHHh!" Draco suddenly hisses at them, slightly-wild eyes glued to the dais, which is empty again except for Riddle
Granger gives him a scornful look. "Really! I hardly think he's going to--"
"Hello."
It's Archie.
Caelum adjusts his posture, relaxing back into his seat, and notices for the first time how uncomfortable.
Hermione's cheeks have gone pink. "That boy."
"Wait," says Pucey, craning his neck. "Who is it?"
"What is he doing?!?"
Draco's knuckles have gone white, clutched right around the seat of his chair.
"On behalf of a dear friend of mine," says Archie, "I'd like to say thank you to all of you who have taken the time to attend this fabulous ceremony. Due to extenuating circumstances, he couldn't be here himself today, but he wanted me to tell you all that he is safe, he is happy, and he has plenty of access to potions ingredients."
A ripple of laughter spreads through the crowd, and Harry groans into her hands. Beside her, Draco clutches his hands to his chest, a single tear welling at the corner of his eye.
"Rigel…"
Caelum is so done with this.
Up on the dais, Archie withdraws a scroll of parchment from the pocket of his robes, then coughs, and, unexpectedly, shifts his face to look like an exact copy of the Rigel Black Child.
Well. That hadn't been part of the plan.
"Archie!" Harry hisses, putting her face in her hands.
Archie lifts the parchment up to read, but before he has a chance, Aurors pounce on him from both sides of the stage, tying him in enough incarcerouses to send him tripping forward onto his face before he can get out a single word.
"I dedicate my prize money and scholarship to the Cora foundation and the children of the Lower Alleys!" He shouts, still under the influence of the sonorous. "And my world tour to the most brilliant potioneer and love of my life, Harry Potter!"
Then someone stuns him and he falls off the stage.
Harry looks furious. "That is not what that letter said," she says, voice low enough that Caelum is probably the only one who hears her--well, Caelum and Draco, but Draco looks to shocked to have noticed.
He's caught, staring, in a frozen gape, for several seconds before he jumps from his seat and starts jogging towards the stage, forced to climb over several people in his efforts to reach the aisles.
"He does know that's not actually the Rigel Black Child, right?" asked Bannet, sounding faintly perturbed. "I'm pretty sure it's that one animorphmagus kid."
Common sense: Caelum knew they kept Bannet around for a reason.