Dancing with Ghosts in Your Garden~ Chapter 3: Year 1- October
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The transition from summer to fall was always most evident in the midst of October and best seen on the front lawn leading up to the main entrance (no matter what Cody said about the Quidditch pitches). Satine always took special care to appreciate the beautiful weather while it lasted, understanding all too well that winter would be at their doorstep sooner rather than later.
It gave studying (or in this case, procrastinating) a different atmosphere and one she could better enjoy with the company of two good friends. Aayla Secura and Stass Allie, who were both Ravenclaws of her year, were both behind on their respective assignments. Aayla often struggled to balance Quidditch with homework while Stass usually got into her own head to the point where she found it difficult to pick up a quill sometimes. Satine, herself, wasn’t actively behind, but used the time to edit Viz’s transfiguration essay on Animagi.
“Let’s take a break!” Aayla suggested for the third time that hour.
“Agreed!” Stass closed her textbook far too suddenly for anyone that believed they were to get anything done. “What do you guys want to do about Halloween?”
“You two do plan on passing fifth year, right?” Satine asked without looking up from the passage she’d been marking, “Because I’d hate to go to the trouble of finding two different girl best friends to pal around with in class.”
“Oh posh, we’ll figure it out.” Stass said, more like she was convincing herself rather than Satine, “Right?”
“Sure, if you focus for longer than 15 minutes at a time.” She squeezed her hand and inhaled the fresh soft breeze that swirled around them. “However, it is a lovely day and just looking at you both I can tell you won’t focus anyway… So, what’s up?”’
Aayla leaned forward on her elbows, a bright blue lekku falling over her shoulder as she did so. “As you both know, this is the first year we’re considered upperclassmen.”
“Seeing as we are no longer stuck in the middle of fourth year, yes, I’ve noticed.” Stass snorted, though seemed to already catch what Aayla was hinting at.
Satine, who was half-dividing her attention to a hanging participle on Viz’s concluding statement, simply hummed in response. She loved her friends immensely, but they did tend to get easily distracted by mundane details. Not that there was anything particularly wrong about celebrating this fact, but when either talked about how ‘old’ they were getting, it only reminded Satine that their time was nearing thin at Hogwarts.
“And you know what that means…” She added.
“OWLS.” Satine responded blandly and Stass slid the parchment from underneath her and looked at her pointedly.
“What?” She asked.
“Anyway,” Aayla continued, “That means we finally get to be invited to the Halloween bonfire this year.”
“Oh, brilliant.” Satine mused, “I’ve always been curious about those. Didn’t last year’s get sacked by Professor Windu for hosting a secret keg stand in the Forbidden Forest?”
“Sure did!” Stass said excitedly. “And you know with how rambunctious our year is that something is bound to happen.”
“I doubt I’ll be invited then. I’m a prefect!” Satine said.
Admittedly, she did really want to attend the bonfire. Despite its lesser popularity in England, Satine always enjoyed Halloween on principle. Dressing up, sweets, and the fresh crispness of a late autumn evening were all too appealing to resist. Plus, she was not easily frightened and could find humor in most horror films.
“You’ll be fine!” Aayla waved her off. “You’re not a total stooge. If anything, it’s Kenobi that’s probably not in the best shape.”
She frowned, “Ben is not a stooge!”
“Of course you would say that.” Stass said coyly.
“And what, perchance, is that supposed to mean?” She shot back, feeling her face growing hot.
“He’s the most by-the-book person that’s ever walked the floors. Remember when he reminded Professor Yaddle about the homework when he’d been the only one who’d done it? I’m surprised he wasn’t walloped for that.”
“That was first year.” Satine complained, “He’s come a long way.”
“Yeah, and we all like him!” Stass said hurriedly, “Aayla bonds with him over Quidditch.”
“No matter how much he loathes it.” Aayla added.
“And we both share a predilection for Defense Against the Dark Arts! It’s just that you know, the troublemakers won’t be as easily convinced.”
“What’s he got to prove to them anyway?” Satine rolled her eyes, “It’s not enough that they’ve got to peak in primary school, but they’ve got to drag others down too? Who’s planning the party this year anyway?”
“Rumor mill says it’s Sora Bulq and his friends. Expectedly, it’s never anyone with any scholarly clout.” Aayla said matter-of-factly.
“Well, I’m going to have to have words with him then.” She said, “Diplomatically, of course, but to think you can go around choosing who can and can’t go to a school function is positively ridiculous.”
“But what if he decides not to invite you?” Stass asked, worried.
“I don’t want to go to any party where Ben is unwelcome.” She said and began packing up her things.
Aayla and Stass exchanged a look that was mighty suspicious to Satine, who was already fired up about this line of conversation. It was primitive to think that it was ever acceptable to exclude anyone for any reason, particularly when everyone else was there and would talk nonstop about it come that Monday morning. Whatever unspoken conspiracy that existed between her two friends would have to wait, because she was on her feet and storming up the hill before they could further comment.
“Oh hell, she’s going to see to it that we never have one of these bonfires ever again, isn’t she?” Stass murmured.
“Yeah, we’re screwed.” Aayla said.
***
Ever since Professor Palpatine had gifted it to him, Anakin had been all but glued to the enchanted map. As per their agreement, he never showed it to anyone and only studied it from beneath his bedsheets. It had been a lifesaver in terms of navigating his way around the halls.
The map, like everything in the wizarding world, was enchanted to move in real time. At any time, he could see whoever moved around the school and where they were going. If this fell into the wrong hands (or right- prefects would have a field day), it could be used to exploit those that kept secrets.
And speaking of secrets, he couldn’t help but notice that every evening, Professor Dooku managed to vanish from the map altogether. At first, he assumed he aparated elsewhere, but apparition in Hogwarts was forbidden, even for professors. However, that theory was disproved when he casually brought it up to Obi-Wan, who told him that Dooku was one of the professors that lived on the grounds.
So… Where did he go?
There were so many hidden corridors and hallways that were not privy to students in the first place and Anakin yearned to see all of them. There was so much to uncover and unveil about Hogwarts and it was all sitting in a two-dimensional drawing in his hands. Perhaps, one day, he’d get the chance.
Not until Obi-Wan graduated, maybe, but it would happen.
***
Satine had enlisted Cody into her crusade just in case Bulq needed someone that was a little more physically imposing than a lanky blonde girl with pigtails. He was, expectedly, eager to help in this mission and was easily angered about the theory as well. Both had decided it was for the best to leave Obi-Wan out of the equation, since he’d never been fond of the prospect of anyone sticking their neck out for him like this.
Still, she didn’t mind. She would have been mad if it had been anyone they were excluding… Even the likes of Hondo Ohnaka, who hardly ever seemed to take a bath. That morning, Hondo had excitedly expressed that he’d received an invitation, which matched the ones that Satine and Cody had also gotten. Obi-Wan had made no comment, but didn’t seem very bothered by it. Instead, he continued to eat his breakfast and try to dissect the scribble that was Anakin’s handwriting.
“Not get an invitation? What the bloody hell is that about?” Cody asked as they stalked down the hall with a purpose that caused everyone to part the way. It was satisfying in a strange way.
“Because he’s a loser.” Sora Bulq laughed when they’d asked that very question.
“He is not a loser.” Satine said tightly, “If anything, you are the fool for failing to invite the biggest candidate for Head Boy of fifth year.”
“You’re lucky you were invited, muggle-born.” Bulq countered. “Not sure why you care much for him in the first place.”
Ventress, who stood not far off cackled, “She’s playing the part of the token muggle pet, Bulq. Please, let’s humor her.”
“Obi-Wan’s parents are extremely affluent.” Satine reconsidered her approach calmly, which drew a curious look from Cody. “And I’m sure they would not be happy to hear that their son was excluded from a social event that was formed by their greatest acquaintances’ children.”
Ventress stiffened at that. “And what exactly would you know about status?”
“I know that you don’t want to be the one to go toe-to-toe with the Kenobi’s, Ventress.”
The paler girl smiled menacingly, “Do they even know you exist? Why would they believe you anyway?”
“They might believe me.” Cody crossed his arms in a way that accentuated his biceps. He acted like he didn’t do it on purpose, but seeing how he was glaring at Bulq, he certainly was. It was certainly difficult to dispute that it worked.
Bulq rolled his eyes, “Fine, whatever… But if he causes any funny business, I swear, Kryze, you will be the one hearing from me.”
“I’ve seen your wand work.” She raised an eyebrow, “So, I’m really not afraid of you.”
***
“Why are we doing this?” Whined Anakin as he slumped back in his seat to try and catch a better view of the window that glowed behind Obi-Wan. Compared to the radiant display of nature that existed peacefully outside, the room they sat in was dim and cold with only a black and white board between them.
“It’s important!” Obi-Wan said, “It places a good emphasis on patience, which judging by what Professor Windu tells me, you could use a little work on.”
Anakin crossed his arms and huffed, “So, I skipped ahead a little. I was only trying to get the guy to like me.”
“Accidentally setting Rex’s desk on fire is not the way to do that.”
“I was trying to light the candle!” He complained, “The wind blew it out and I thought it would be an opportune time to display my skills… I just… Overshot it a little.”
“Mhmm.” Obi-Wan sized him up, “Qui-Gon and I started playing when I was your age. Wizard’s Chess is a very popular pastime in wizarding culture. You can sit back, relax, test your mind and spirit while chatting with a friend… Or foe.”
While Anakin definitely wanted to fit in more with his peers, he wasn’t sure chess was the right move for him. If they had video games, perhaps, he’d been more invested, but chess was still just chess… Even if the pieces moved on their own.
“Just cause you guys stick “wizard” in front of everything doesn’t make it special. You know that right?”
“Check mate.” Obi-Wan smirked as his bishop moved forward and physically slashed Anakin’s king into little crumbled pieces. “How do you not enjoy that?”
“Maybe because these pieces give awful advice.” He glared down at them. “Have they ever won before?”
“Well, that’s usually the set I use when I play Qui-Gon.” Obi-Wan winced, “So no, they’ve not seen a victory.”
Anakin opened his mouth to give him a colorful retort about the unfairness of those odds, but was interrupted by the storm that was Satine Kryze and Cody Fett as they burst into the room red-faced and waving an envelope.
“We’ve got it!” Cody beamed.
“I see that.” Obi-Wan chuckled, “Just one question, what is ‘it’ that you have?”
Anakin was just relieved to be inadvertently rescued from another match of Wizard’s Chess, which was incredibly lazy since he didn’t even have to use his arms to move the pieces. He briefly wondered how there weren’t more overweight wizards and witches at the rate at which they avoided physically doing anything.
“Your personal invitation to the Halloween bonfire.” Satine said as she smugly slammed it onto the chess board.
Obi-Wan and Anakin both leaned over to see that yes, the orange and black cardstock was addressed to Obi-Wan and did, in fact, invite him to a party.
“You didn’t tell me there was going to be a party!” Anakin said excitedly.
“Because there isn’t a party for you.” Cody said.
“It’s only for upperclassmen.” Satine added with that voice and look that said “so don’t even try it”.
Which to Anakin, made it all the more intriguing.
“I’m surprised I’m even invited, honestly.” Obi-Wan shrugged, “I’d already counted on not going. I signed up for the latest patrol.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Satine said sharply and she leaned forward with both hands firmly placed on the table, “You’re not slithering out of this one.”
“Yeah we went to a lot of-” Cody began hotly, but was elbowed in the gut by Satine, thus cutting off his statement.
“-Care to bring this to you.” She finished, though neither Obi-Wan or Anakin quite believed that’s what Cody was going to say.
“While I appreciate having my own personal mail carriers,” He joked to an unresponsive audience, “I am really not much for Halloween. Besides, everyone would have more fun if I wasn’t there anyway.”
“That’s not true!” Satine argued vehemently, “This is a rite of passage and you are not about to abandon us in favor of reading in your room and walking the halls. We’re not about to let you get in your own head about this.”
“Besides, it’s not like we’re going to tell your parents.” Cody rolled his eyes, “They’ll never know! The professors pretend not to know. If you don’t go, you’ll have a big “x” painted on you socially.”
“I think you’re both being a little dramatic.” Obi-Wan said carefully, but especially kept his focus on a very heated Satine. Even Anakin knew not to toil with the wrath of a frenzied woman, particularly if he didn’t have to.
“Dramatic? How are we supposed to have fun when we know you’re off somewhere moping and brooding?”
“I don’t brood.” He frowned, though Anakin knew his mentor did, in fact, brood.
“Whatever,” She rolled her eyes. “Excuse me for wanting to see you have a good time every now and then and for wanting you to go with me… And Cody!” Satine hurried.
“I will carry you there by force if I must, mate.” Cody said.
After careful consideration and fiddling with his quill, Obi-Wan finally sighed, “Well, I already know neither of you will ever let me live it down if I don’t…”
Both Satine and Cody dropped their shoulders in relief and shared a bright smile. It seemed Obi-Wan could not help but be equally happy to see them happy. Meanwhile, Obi-Wan and Satine being indisposed at some top secret party meant that Anakin might actually get to enjoy his Halloween and explore Hogwarts to the fullest.
***
“Found anything, you have not.” Headmaster Yoda said gravely, not even bothering to turn his chair to face Professor Windu’s solemn stare.
“We’ve checked every accessible meter of this school, Headmaster.” He replied firmly.
Yoda knew this wasn’t good enough. There were secrets this school held that went beyond his years- despite how few would believe that by looking at him. Yoda caught his own reflection off an antique bottle of wine gifted to him by the Minister of Magic as a Christmas present. Even in the distorted evergreen hues, his wrinkles were deep and the hair that scarcely covered his little green head was a pure white. In spite of this, he would never know the true mystery that their ancestors left them.
Secret rooms and passageways unbeknownst even to him, evil hexes and curses that were designed to scorn those that uncovered them. It rarely ever turned out well for the curious and the wandering. It was why they discouraged exploration. Prefects were also implemented and chosen carefully to prevent any incidents as well.
It was one thing when it was merely old traps finally snapping on unsuspecting students, but there was no doubt that something more sinister was creeping under the surface. Yoda wished he could better explain why, but his dreams foretold an impending fate worse than death, itself.
He’d expressed these dreams to the Minister of Magic, but received little insight. Valorum did not seem to understand the significance of dreams. While it was important to be mindful of them, it was not as though Yoda was staring all day in the mirror of erised. No, instead, Yoda had deeply meditated over each and every one and it all ended the same.
“In the ashes of hypocrisy… the lords of the Sith return”
The corrupt whisper seemed to flow through him. He begged the magical forces to allow him a glimpse at a face, but he didn’t need to look this creature in the eyes to know it was the embodiment of pure darkness.
“Feel it, you do?” He asked.
“Something is wrong.” Mace Windu admitted and lightning crashed behind him as though setting the dramatic tone. It would be humorous if Mace were the type to lean into theatrics. His friend and former pupil was nothing if not straightforward.
“Disturbances.” He hummed.
“Indeed,” Windu ran a hand over his smooth head. “We always used to say that the ghosts always know first. And yet…”
“Hm?”
“No ghosts.” He said darkly.
Many were offended by Windu’s steely demeanor, but few truly understood his battle with the darker sides of magic. Every step he took was a labor of teetering the balance of good and evil. It was far from easy, and Yoda respected the consistent choice to be good that Windu made every single day. He was grateful for it too, because while Yoda had much more experience under his belt, Windu was likely the most powerful wizard that ever attended Hogwarts. However, he understood that with that power came exceptional measures of control and collectivity. If anyone that could be trusted, it was Windu.
Well, him and-
“Sorry I’m late, Headmaster.” Qui-Gon Jinn wrung out sopping hair onto the stone flooring, “I had the pleasure of inspecting the Quidditch pitches.”
While the less severe of the two, Qui-Gon Jinn was easily the wisest wizard that ever walked through Hogwarts. He was one of the younger professors employed at Hogwarts, but if not for the formidably brilliant Dooku, would have been an obvious choice as Head of House.
“See anything?” Windu asked.
“Nothing that constitutes actual concern.” Qui-Gon said, “Though I did catch a few students out past curfew.”
“Do you think they were conspiring?”
“Considering they were heading off to the Forbidden Forest with a picnic blanket and were caught up in a snogging fest when I got to them, I doubt it.” He smirked.
“Thoughts on this, do you have, Qui-Gon?” Yoda asked.
Yoda might have negated his own dreams had Qui-Gon not shared them verbatim. It was a frightening discovery they’d had one blinding summer morning. The bearded professor was sketching out a lesson plan, but continued doodling the dark mark at which they’d seen.
In Yoda’s dream, it had been carved in blood.
“I heard a noise,” He said. “I was returning into the building and it was fleeting, but I’ve never heard it before.”
“Loud, was it?”
“I wouldn’t say it was particularly jarring, but odd. It sounded like two stone walls moving against one another, but in the distance.”
“Outside or inside?” Windu asked.
“I’m positive it was inside.” Qui-Gon said, “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, we haven’t got an intruder, sir.”
“Say that like it’s better, you do.” Yoda offered, “Troubling, it is, for us to question one of our own.”
“The question is who.” Windu said firmly, “We’ve not had any significant issues before this summer and all of our professors are fairly tenured.”
“I believe the question is why.” Qui-Gon interjected, “And I think it’s obvious.”
“Please don’t start.” Windu sighed, giving way impatience for a change and it reminded Yoda that it was well past midnight and everyone was exhausted. He’d admittedly run them all ragged in his attempts to keep everything as safe as possible. Neither ever protested, but eventually, it would start to get to them and temporary fixes would only do so much.
It didn’t help that Qui-Gon and Windu vehemently disagreed on the matter of prophecy.
“Don’t start?” Qui-Gon laughed sardonically, “You said it yourself that something is going on! Yoda and I saw the same dream and I’m telling you, it’s the chosen one. Why else would the dark symbol appear when it did all those months ago? It hadn’t been publically waved for 100 years, Mace.”
“Then why are the presented omens negative? The chosen one is meant to unite good and evil, if you believe in that sort of thing.” Windu stubbornly replied.
“With the rise of the light, there will be darkness… Or perhaps, it’s the other way around.” He said thoughtfully.
“True that is, Professor Qui-Gon.” Yoda said, “But young, the boy is, and innocent. Scare him, we shall not.”
“We cannot leave him in the dark for too long.” Qui-Gon said hastily. “He is not to be trained as any regular wizard if he is to truly bring balance.”
“We don’t even know if this boy is the chosen one.” Windu said, “I’m certainly not so sure.”
“Clouded, our judgment is.” Yoda said quietly. “Rest, we must. The future, we can never be truly prepared for.”
***
Approximately one kilometer beneath the surface, away from sleeping children and lumbering ghosts, who never quite got their fullest rest, a long and bony hand reached through the pocket of a gate, extending until it met its goal of the slumbering beast’s coarse scales.
It didn’t move- it never did. It was so resigned to its fate. It’s only purpose is to wallow underground and play its part in the transfer of power. It was truly a marvel: how the natural world could be so gifted without any assigned meaning. It was senseless to let it go about and mindlessly destroy. There was much, much worse that could be done should that power land in the proper lap.
However, he was not in charge. He never would be.
“We are not so far apart, my ferocious friend.” Tyranus’s deep voice echoed off the damp walls. Figureheads, shrouded in the persistent darkness that reflected their very souls, seemed to stare down at him disapprovingly.
This beast was locked away, forced to be unknown by the outside world, serving as the life force for another in order to see that the means are worth the end result. That’s all Tyranus would ever be… The pawn… The tool… The beast.
But he would not lose himself, entirely. He had his own objectives and his own mind, just as this creature likely once had. He would see them through even if it killed him.
The day he joined, he was upfront about his refusal to be consumed. To be consumed by the darkness would only make him weak, because to be obsessed with anything lowered one’s sensibilities. It was the very thing that brought down the statued men and women that gazed down at him- forever sullen and hidden away. They were scorned by their own refusal to look at things logically, which to him, was the problem with the current state of affairs.
He did not need the satisfaction of burning the world as many sith did. No, he was content with broken spirits vs broken bodies- not because Tyranus had a conscience. He was merely more pragmatic than he was lethal. Power came in many forms, but he would prefer to master the power of the mind.
The beast howled in pain at the drain. Tyranus felt no pain for this beast, but he felt no pleasure either. He felt nothing.
And that… That would all change once he got his hands on that cursed boy.
“You deserve a true sacrifice.” He whispered quietly.
***
Rex was exhausted. He’d been double checking Krell’s history essay during dinner so he’d had to make a run down to the kitchens to grab something to eat. Of course once he’d come back, Krell had admonished him for his “poor work” and had sent him back down to the kitchens to get him another dessert as punishment. Rex tried not to think about the anger that buzzed about his head when he remembered how Krell had tossed Rex’s own history essay back at him, with no corrections, but covered vaguely in what he hoped was sticky pudding.
He knew Anakin would have told him to fight back, but Anakin, unlike Rex, didn’t have looming threats sent in his direction. More than once, Krell had threatened to obliviate him when he’d caught Anakin giving him the stink eye from across the common room and Rex knew Krell could easily provoke his older brother, Cody, and he did not want to be the reason his brother got booted from the Quidditch team.
“Tell anyone about this and you’ll be joining the ranks of your more useless family members,” Was one of Krell’s current favorite lines of threatening.
Rex tried to take it in stride. He’d only brought up the matter once to Professor Windu. His professor just reminded Rex that mentors were selected on merit and if Mr. Krell hadn’t been fit for the role, he would not have been selected.
So Rex just pushed down any emotion other than his complete exhaustion and pushed open the door to his dormitory.
Despite it being quite late, he was mildly surprised to see Anakin was awake and, from the looks of it, plotting something. The moment Rex’s face was bathed in the soft firelight of the room Anakin was beckoning him over with a frantic hand wave. As much as Rex wanted to dive straight into his four-poster bed and draw the curtains, he approached his friend's bed with a look of resignation.
“Rex! I’ve been looking all over for you,” Anakin chirped excitedly and pulled over what looked to be an old homework assignment, turned into scrap paper, “I’ve just heard of this party, it’s for the older students, but honestly how could we not go!” Rex suddenly felt as if a rock had fallen into his stomach as he slowly peered down at the notes and saw one of the subheadings was labeled: Fancy Dress Ideas.
“You wouldn’t mean,” Rex asked slowly, “the Halloween party?”
“Yes, yes exactly,” Anakin continued hurriedly, not noticing anything amiss, “Satine and Cody told me I couldn’t go, but there has to be a way to sneak in,” Anakin’s hand dragged through the ink, smearing out a few of his outfit ideas as he continued to doodle a crude map of the castle grounds, “Obviously you should come with me, we’ll be the coolest first years the castle’s ever seen. I’m sure even your brother wasn’t this bold,” Anakin grinned up at him, before his grin slowly faded into a confused expression as he caught Rex’s eye for the first time, “Well, you do want to go don’t you?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to try and sneak in with you,” Rex tried to think of a way to phrase his thoughts, worried about accidentally losing the only friend who had been willing to stick around despite all of Krell’s errands, “It’s just that… I’ll already be attending the party,” He’d intended on continuing, but was cut off rather quickly.
“What?!” Anakin whisper shouted, which really for him was almost like shouting, but just barely managing not to wake up their whole dormitory, “They invited you but not me? Not that you’re not great and all,” Anakin tacked on rather haphazardly, “But I mean! I’ve gotten on the Quidditch team and everyone’s still talking about when I accidently transfigured that tree branch into a real piece of gold instead of a saucer,” He would have continued, but Rex had already had quite enough this evening.
“It’s not like I even want to go!” He matched Anakin’s near shout, but paused as they both heard one of their fellow students turn over, after a moment of silence he continued with whispered frustration, “It’s Krell! He’s making me go with him, doubt it will be much fun for me,” He finished miserably, and slowly Anakin’s jealousy simmered into quiet anger at his friend's mentor.
“That Krell,” Anakin muttered darkly, “Wish I could practice a few jinx’s on him,” Rex shook his head.
“That’ll only make him worse,” Rex said with a frown, the feeling of being dragged down, like he was barely holding his own in an ocean set to drown him, was returning. He was quite ready to banish that sensation in his dreams so he made his way to his own trunk and started dressing for bed.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t imagine it,” Anakin said wistfully, but as if sensing Rex’s unwillingness to discuss the topic any longer he changed the subject, “I guess Power Rangers are out,” he scratched his quill over an option in his list, “It’ll be no fun if it’s just me,” Rex, who had gotten into his bed, turned back around to face Anakin with a look of bafflement on his face.
“What in the bloody hell is a ‘Power Ranger’?”
***
Knowing that Rex wouldn’t be accompanying his big night out certainly put a damper on his Halloween plans. That’s not to say that Anakin required a co-conspirator in order to execute his plans, but he did appreciate the company. This sort of plan did require an additional hand anyway. Everyone needed a good look-out and thus far, Rex had been exceptional.
So, he mulled over his options. He needed someone that wouldn’t otherwise have any plans and would likely want to participate in such an act. It was going to be a tough criteria, but there were possibilities. There was Hondo Ohnaka, who would likely be kicked out of the bonfire anyway and itching to get back in. It helped that Hondo was sneaky and would appreciate the knowledge of an underground system to run his pirated muggle goods inside.
Then again, Hondo knowing such a system existed could be exploited and Palpatine and Anakin could somehow be dragged down for that.
His eyes drifted (far from the first time) to Padm é Amidala, who despite how desperately Anakin wanted to work up the courage to talk to, was a terrible idea for this caliber of mission. She was far too popular and should any of her pack of girls find out, the whole school would know in a heartbeat. Besides, he would definitely not be able to focus if she was in a spitting distance from him.
He glanced over at Sebulba and rolled his eyes at even briefly considering inviting the cretin.
“What do you think, Rex?” He asked as the two of them wolfed down their breakfasts.
“I think you’re probably giving this plan more thought that you should.” His friend said, “You’re planning on busting into a party with all the prefects there. You know the professors are gonna be scanning the corridors like hawks.”
“I’ve got a way.” He said slyly, because he hadn’t explained the extent of the map to Rex just yet. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him, but that it was more of a need-to-know type of arrangement. He promised Palpatine he wouldn’t squeal and he was good on that promise.
“Whatever you say, mate.” He shrugged, “Good luck finding a bloke who’s smart, quiet, and desperate enough for a good time that he’s willing to lay down a year of detention on the line for a prank.”
“We’ll be dressed up.” He said, “They’ll never know it’s- That’s it! I know who I need.”
Rex’s eyes widened at the sudden revelation, but Anakin was far too excited to share his good news. He’d been stupid not to think of it in the first place. The person of choice was right beneath his nose and the most unassuming character at Hogwarts. All this kid needed was a friend and he’d likely do whatever needed to be done. Plus, they’d have fun.
Pre Vizsla looked over his textbook in confusion as to why Anakin was sitting across from him in the library. To be fair, Anakin never elected to spend any voluntary time here. Usually, Obi-Wan and Satine had dragged him along thus far. Vizsla had been there too, but didn’t say a peep. Oftentimes, Anakin forgot the kid was there at all unless to ask Satine a question.
“Um, hello?” He said.
Anakin grinned and folded his hands, “Viz, I feel like it’s pretty criminal that we haven’t talked much.”
“Okay.” The boy blinked, dumbfounded.
“I mean, your mentor and my mentor are best friends. AND they’re prefects. They’re shoo in’s for Head Boy and Head Girl when their time comes. And us, we’re the little guys, the underdogs, the-”
“-Did you need something, Anakin?” He asked, not quite maliciously, but definitely a bit exhausted of Anakin’s vibrato. “Because I’m kind of in the middle of-”
“-Reading, yeah, you do that a lot.” Anakin nodded, “And while that’s cool and all, I think we should definitely be hanging out more. I mean, we’re practically family… Distant family, but still, the bond is there.”
Viz quietly closed his book and set it down. “Youwant to hang out with me.”
“We’ve got a lot in common.” Anakin said.
“Besides how close our mentors are, what exactly do we have in common?” He asked.
“Well…” Admittedly it took Anakin probably a beat too long, because Viz began packing up his things as if to leave, but he stuck a hand out to stop him.
“Look, I just think you could probably try to loosen up, you know? Have a little fun? It’s got to be exhausting having Satine as a mentor. I’m pretty sure if you looked ‘fun’ up in the dictionary, the definition would be “not Satine”, am I right?”
Viz shrugged, “We mostly talk about my homework or how I’m settling into school.”
“And sometimes, a guy needs a break from all of that.” Anakin said, “I would know, because Obi-Wan is always riding me about school or about how I carry myself. He’s worried about my posture for some reason now. It’s exhausting.”
Viz actually snorted and ran a hand over his shaved head, which was practically down to the scalp, “Yeah, I know that feeling.”
“Excellent, so do something fun with me. Halloween night. None of the prefects will be around so it’ll be great.”
“I’m not going to sign up for something that I don’t understand what we’ll be doing.” Viz pointed out. “That’s just foolish.”
This was valid. Anakin did already build a slight reputation as a prankster and few wanted to go down with the ship. Not everyone was as reliable and loyal as Rex. Still, Rex wasn’t an option for Halloween and Anakin wouldn’t mind actually bonding with Viz.
“We’re going to the Halloween bonfire.”
“What?” Viz frowned, “The one for upperclassmen?”
“The very same! You’re kind of the quiet and obedient type, right?” Anakin said, “So people would actually believe you if you were to say… Go to the library and study completely on your own.”
“Like today.”
“That’s what you’re doing? It’s lunch time!” Anakin said, briefly distracted before going back to his plan. “Maybe you could even be ‘tutoring’ me in this scenario. We need an alibi. That’s the important part. So long as we’ve got a concrete alibi, we’re in the clear if all goes smoothly.”
“Mhmm…”
“My sources say that the candy and sweets at this party are going to be ridiculous. They’re even having a pinata full of the stuff. Well, let’s just say I know a shortcut or two out of the castle and to the woods… Exactly where the party is being held. We jump in, fully dressed up so nobody knows the difference, snatch, the pinata, and go back to the school!”
Viz seemed to think this over for a good bit, “What kind of sweets?”
“Anything you can imagine, dude. You’re a muggle-born, right?”
Viz stiffened, “Yeah, why?”
“Well, I was pretty much raised like one too so I get the hype about wizard candy and I’d like as much of it as I can get my hands on.”
“I am collecting the trading cards from the frog boxes.” Viz said. “Alright, I’ll do it, but on one condition: you can’t show me the entrance. It’s best if only one of us knows. I don’t want to know your sources or anything. I’ll be your watchdog and your alibi, because that’s what I’m assuming you need in the first place. That’s all.”
This was even better than Anakin had imagined! He felt the folded map in his sweatshirt pocket, relieved that he didn’t need to explain his way around this one. Instead, Viz was completely satisfied with operating behind the scenes. Technically, the idea of a “lookout” was likely futile given the nature of the map, but Anakin was not 100% positive on its accuracy just yet and did not want to discover any faults during a live demonstration. Besides, poltergeists and ghosts moved so fast that he could easily be caught otherwise.
“50/50 candy split then?” He asked, while already mentally debating how much Rex would require after such a stressful night.
“Deal.”
The two boys spit on their respective hands and clasped them across the table in solidarity. Anakin had a good feeling about this.
***
Despite her insistence to get Obi-Wan invited to the party, Satine truly hadn’t given too much thought into her own attire. She’d assumed she would figure something out that weekend when she wasn’t up to her nose with midterm assignments. This task was doubled when she considered Viz’s studies, but the boy had been improving magnificently as of late and required very little editing. She wondered if she would have the pleasure of being the mentor to a Head Boy in the making.
It seemed everyone else around her was just buzzing about the impending bonfire. While she was enthusiastic about the occasion, she didn’t understand quite the level of hype that was circulating the school. Then again, she’d never been to a wizarding-styled party such as this before.
Stass and Aayla were no different in their bubbling excitement and truthfully, it was nice to brainstorm ideas if at all possible.
Aayla flopped backwards onto the couch in the common room, exhausted from her Quidditch practice.
“They’ve been working you hard, huh?” Stass asked.
“Harder than ever.” She puffed out a breath, “I don’t think I’ll ever move again if that’s alright with you folks. Just drag my limp body here and there. I’m sure I’ll be alright. I’ll eat the scraps of food you drop… Should my jaw stop hurting.”
“You could, and this is just a thought,” Satine began, “Go to the hospital wing.”
“What do you take me for? A sissy?” She winced as she turned her head too fast.
“I thought I took you for someone with more than one operating braincell.”
“You would be wrong.” Stass snorted.
Aayla stuck her tongue out at them, “I’ve not got the worst of it. Your boy could hardly walk straight after today’s practice, Satine.”
She stiffened, not even bothering to dignify the insinuation with a response, “Is he alright?”
Her blue friend’s mouth curled into a smirk, “Yeah, just had a rough go of it when the quaffle went rogue and smacked him into the post.”
Satine did everything not to appear overly invested or concerned, but she couldn’t help it. She despised Quidditch and the overwhelming fixation everyone seemed to have on it. It was not like she didn’t possess house or school spirit. She was invested in the overall competition between houses to achieve the most points throughout the year. Such a competition actually involved the merits and strengths of each student’s character rather than how bloody and battered they could make each other during a sport’s match.
While not all that interested in muggle sports, they hardly became as deadly as Quidditch ever so casually was to wizards. It blew her mind just how little regard the lives of students were taken into consideration every single match. She felt her heart was in her throat every single time she was subjected to watching Obi-Wan or Cody play. Cody lived for the sport and the amount of fun he had while on the field was almost contagious if she hadn’t almost seen him die on the regular by how careless he was.
Then, there was Obi-Wan, who also disliked Quidditch, though for reasons different from her own. He hated flying, for one thing, which had been obvious since their first year. There was also the pressure that came with Quidditch that Obi-Wan didn’t appreciate. It wasn’t that he was bad- quite the opposite, but he definitely got into his own head. For him, it was the obligation that came with being good at Quidditch that made him dislike it. She couldn’t exactly blame him.
Still, she knew it was her duty to cheer him on despite her reservations about the sport. He needed someone who was actively rooting for him in the crowd. The smile on his face when he saw her after a match was worth enough of her own discomfort sitting through each game.
“Did he go to the hospital wing?” Satine asked carefully.
“Do you take him for a sissy, Satine?” Aayla asked.
“It’s not being a sissy to get help when required, you nitwit.”
“Don’t mind her, she’s just been hit upside the head too much with the bludger.” Stass chuckled, “What I really want to know, is what we’re doing for Halloween?”
“I know I hit my head pretty hard on the pitch, but I could have sworn we had this conversation last week.” Aayla feigned forgetfulness and now it was Satine’s turn to laugh.
“We did, but we’ve got to talk logistics.”
“Now, you’re sounding like a true Ravenclaw.” Satine murmured. “What are the logistics of going to a party?”
“Well, it is a fancy dress sort of party.” She smiled, eyes suddenly aglow. “And I know what we should go as.”
“We? Like a group ensemble?” Satine hadn’t considered it, but she’d been foolish not to. It would certainly be more fun to coordinate and then she’d be able to collaborate on constructing her attire.
“We should go as the three witches from the Fountain of Fair Fortune. It’s perfect!” Stass said.
“I like it!” Aayla agreed, “We would look smart as all hell.”
“Weren’t you considering dressing as some important Quidditch player?” Satine asked.
“I can be a jock and wear fluffy dresses, Satine. A girl can have multiple layers.”
She rolled her eyes and considered it, “Well, I do quite love the fairy tale. It’s one of the first pieces of wizarding literature that I read upon discovering my abilities. I especially appreciate it now for its forward-thinking mindset of uniting the two-”
“-I could go as Altheda, Aayla as Asha, and Satine could be Amata.” Stass interrupted what would have been an in-depth analysis on the underlying politics of the story.
“I thought Amata was your favorite.” Satine prompted curiously.
“But you look the most like her.” She returned.
Satine couldn’t quite argue with that logic, but that was merely because Amata was drawn to be a blonde. However, Aayla was blue and likely didn’t resemble any of the illustrated witches, so it wasn’t exactly sound reasoning through and through. Either way, she was looking forward to being a part of it.
“Alright, I’m in.” She smiled and both girls beamed.
“Brilliant!” They said in unison after sharing a conspiring grin.
Satine didn’t know what to think of that, but part of her suspected there was more to this decision that met the eye. Either way, it couldn’t have been that harmful. So what if her friends wanted to throw her in a beautiful dress for one evening? She wasn’t opposed to the idea of looking a bit silly for a night. It was all in the spirit of the holiday.
***
Halloween finally arrived at Hogwarts with the all too perfect backdrop of an ominous full moon, promising the varying howls of excitable creatures from the nearby forbidden forest. While underclassmen were fairly nonplussed by the evening, seeing as they didn’t have any specific plans, the upperclassmen busily prepared the final touches on their outfits and readied themselves for an exciting evening of sweets and spooky stories. Seeing as the Slytherins were in charge this year, it was to no surprise that it was going to be especially traditional.
Obi-Wan had signed up for the most inconvenient patrol slot for any hopeful fifth year that was finally being allowed the coveted idea of socialization, but he didn’t care as much for it as his peers. Qui-Gon had been nice enough to offer finishing his rounds so he could get ready, but Obi-Wan didn’t have anything specific to wear anyway.
“You’re going dressed like that?” Qui-Gon mused as they walked together, “To a fancy-dress party? I never thought this day might come, but I think you’re underdressed.”
While he was indifferent to the holiday as a whole, he didn’t really have anything fitting to wear even if he wanted to. So, he opted for more casual-wear with nice slacks and a sweater. It was getting rather chilly outside.
“I’m really just popping in for Satine and Cody’s sakes,” He chuckled, “I think they went to more effort than they’re leading on to get me invited.”
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
“It would be illogical to invite me.” He said, “Satine and myself swore an oath that we would be the picture of responsibility. Either of us would report wrongdoing and the party historically always has something go awry.”
“But they invited Satine without question?”
“If I were to get caught at some sort of keg-stand, my parents would have a fit. They are friends with Sora Bulq and Asajj Ventress’ parents, after all. Satine could probably go unnoticed if it got out- seeing as her family are muggles.”
And hearty drinkers, but he left that bit out.
“Still, it’s a rite of passage.” Qui-Gon said. “One that you deserve to experience to the fullest extent.”
“Everyone keeps saying that like it’s official.” He said as they rounded a corner. “It’s not like graduation or anything. It’s hardly even an official holiday in the UK, let alone the wizarding world.”
His mentor smiled somberly, “You know, it’s okay to act your age every once in a while. Even Satine is doing so.”
“Why do I feel like she already ranted about me in your office today?”
“Hey, what occurs in my office hours is between me and the disagreeable student who is projecting their frustrations at me.”
“Good to know she cares.” Obi-Wan quipped.
“Oh, she definitely does.”
They walked in silence for a while, nodding cordially at some of the ghosts that drifted around the halls. It was a peaceful time at Hogwarts, which is part of the reason Obi-Wan took the shift. He hadn’t expected the company of Qui-Gon, who was always a very busy man, but he’d always managed to make time when he was needed, even if the student wasn’t aware his services of advice were required.
“I suppose parties just have never quite been my forte.” He said with a shrug, “I always wind up feeling like I’m on the outside looking in, which might surprise some- seeing as my family has thrown parties all of the time.”
“Adult parties and kid parties, you’ll find, are very different.” Qui-Gon said.
“Are you sure? Because in my experience, politics are still everywhere.” Obi-Wan countered. “Only difference is my friends will be at this one.”
“Well then, you better get going.”
“But-”
“-Obi-Wan, I know it’s been a while since I’ve been a prefect, but I know how to perform a proper perimeter sweep. Get going. I look forward to the inevitable argument between you and Ms. Kryze that I’ll be refereeing tomorrow.”
“We don’t always argue.” He grumbled as he began to walk away before turning around. “Thank you, sir.”
***
Technically, the plan wasn’t enacted until they’d been witnessed studying in the library. Most first years didn’t take Halloween too seriously, since there wasn’t much for them to do aside from telling ghost stories from their common rooms, so it wasn’t unusual for them to be occupying the space. The ghosts were definitely getting a little rowdier than usual, but Anakin learned by now that if you simply gave them the attention they sought after, they typically went away on their own.
“What am I tutoring you in?” Viz asked, “We don’t have classes together.”
“Sure, but we have the same classes.” Anakin said, “How about Herbology? That’s the most boring to me.”
“How?” He brightened, “You didn’t enjoy studying the seeds of-”
“-Sh!” Anakin quickly opened his book as Satine approached the two of them. He hastily spun it around so it was facing the proper way and hoped she didn’t notice. Lucky for him, she seemed more focused on adjusting the sashes on her light pink gown, which was rather extravagant and trailed behind her even as she walked.
Being that he was 11 years old, Anakin really wasn’t the type of person to get tripped up on wardrobe or frilly dresses, but even by his account, she looked transformed, which was the entire point of Halloween in the first place. Her hair was down and flowing in meticulous blonde waves that fell down her back, the top part of which was braided and clipped away from her face. She was wearing makeup, which was unusual for Satine, so her eyes seemed to glow like contemplative azure orbs.
“Neat outfit!” He chirped, “Are you a princess?”
She smiled at him. “Actually, I’m one of the witches from-”
“-Fountain of Fair Fortune!” Viz finished excitedly and off Anakin’s confused gaze, flushed, “It’s one of my favorite fairy tales. I’m guessing you are supposed to be the lovely Amata?”
She curtsied in response, “Indeed, I am.”
Viz nodded in approval, “It’s very book-accurate, Satine. Though I always took you as more of an Altheda for her hardworking attributes.”
“My friends insisted.” She rolled her eyes and off Anakin’s confused expression, explained, “In the story, my character hopes that the fountain of fair fortune will ease her grievances over her broken heart. Then, in the end, she winds up falling in love with a muggle knight.”
“It’s very controversial.” Viz added.
“Oh! Never heard of it.” Anakin admitted and then looked back to Satine, “What’s Obi-Wan being?”
“Not sure, honestly. He’s still on patrol last I heard.” She said, “What are you two up to?”
“Studying herbology.” Anakin said, “Viz is tutoring me.”
Her bright smile told him that she’d bought it. “That’s a brilliant idea! Well, don’t let me interrupt. I was actually looking for Ben.”
“We’ll see you later! I’ll be an herbology expert thanks to this kid.” Anakin called after her.
“Laying it on a bit thick there, hm?” Viz muttered, “I’ve seen your marks. They’re not great.”
“Point is, alibi is sealed.” He winked.
***
“I thought you were going to the bonfire.” Fives said as Cody tugged his red and gold sweater over his head.
“Yeah, if you’d just said you were going out for late-night practice, you could have at least warned us. We wouldn’t mind getting off the bench this year, dear brother.” Echo said.
“Relax, boys, I am going to the bonfire.” Cody waved them off, “But if you get good enough to get off the bench, I’ll play you.”
“Whatever happened to brotherly love?” Fives asked. Other than a slight height difference (was Echo the taller one?), the twin third years were nearly undetectable and used it to their advantage.
“Yeah? And where was that spirit when the two of you filled my pillow with peanut butter?”
“That is love.” Echo smirked, “But why are you wearing your Quidditch uniform?”
“For the party.”
“But you wear it every day, it hardly qualifies.” Fives pointed out.
“Let’s not point fingers about wearing the same thing every day there, lad.” And truthfully, the only reason Cody knew it was Fives was because he never took his favorite Chudley Cannons jersey off- number 5, Tup. “And if you were paying any real attention, you’d notice this is my old Quidditch uniform.”
“And? You’re going as a growth spurt?” Echo quipped.
Cody didn’t dignify that with a response and instead whipped out his wand to conjure up the spell he’d been practicing prior to the party, thus turning the water by his bedside table into a white paste. After rubbing that on his face, he took out the liquid eyeliner he’d borrowed from Satine (evidently, muggles applied this manually) and surrounded his eyes with the black goop.
“I’m a zombie player!” He said and took in his appearance with satisfaction in the mirror.
Because really, did they actually expect him to sully up his brand new uniform for a stupid bonfire?
“Really couldn’t have turned that into wine or whiskey and made it a real party, huh?” Fives said after a while. “Because people are going to need it to like looking at you.”
“Looks better than usual.” Echo jested.
“A lot better than you lot do.” Cody shoved him back against the bed and they laughed before retaliating in kind. In the scuffle, a lump of white bedsheet slithered behind him and towards the door. Not too busy rough-housing the twins, Cody stuck a boot down on the tail end of the sheet that dragged along the floor and watched as Rex emerged as he continued walking.
“Where do you think you’re going?” He said around a laugh, “You and Skywalker got something planned? Don’t even think about getting my star into detention.”
“Can’t believe he plays some first year over us.” Grumbled Fives.
“You’ve seen the kid. He’s crazy.” Echo said in amazement. “Knocked the teeth right out of Professor Tiin’s head the other day.”
Rex sighed, “Oh, no. I mean, I’m sure Anakin does, but I’m actually…” And he murmured something indistinct, avoiding his brother’s gaze.
Cody frowned, “Got some marbles in your mouth there, Rexy?”
“Baby brother’s got a secret.” Fives said cheekily. “Is it a girl?”
“No!” Rex twisted his face in immediate disgust, which was fair. The boy was only 11 and had other interests that far outweighed the female species. Cody was right there with him most of the time, seeing as there was always a game to play. However, Cody could not dispute that something was visibly bothering him. Rex was the very worst at keeping secrets amongst his brothers. And there was only one way to get it out of him.
“Alright boys, I got the feet.” Cody said.
As if he was their drill sergeant, Fives and Echo leapt into action before Rex could even have the presence of thought to react. As promised, Cody went for Rex’s ankles while Fives and Echo each grabbed an arm and pinned him down. The other Gryffindor boys could only watch as the three older boys tickled their youngest brother without mercy, knowing every spot to hit and just how crazy it would drive him.
“STOP!” Rex cackled and squirmed, which was contagious, but not enough to deter his brothers from the task at hand.
“Sure, buddy, once you tell us what you’re sneaking off to.” Cody said calmly.
“I hate you guys!” Rex complained, but continued to thrash around as they upped the speed at which they poked at his most susceptible areas.
“As you know, this can and will get worse the longer it goes on.” Fives said.
Sure, they were making a scene, but this was typical behavior for the clones and most just stepped over Rex and went about their business without paying it too much mind. Cody prided himself on how his whole family managed to make their mark in such a way that regardless of the incarnation, was expected of them. He wondered if his kids would one day maintain the reputation.
“ALRIGHT ALRIGHT I GIVE!” Rex shouted and thrashed around until the tickling stopped. However, they didn’t release their strongholds on his limbs and he released a tired grunt when he realized he wasn’t breaking free.
“I’m going to the bonfire.” He said simply.
“If you think I’m going to let you in-” Cody began.
“-Krell is taking me.” He interjected and Cody dropped his ankles.
“He’s what?” He said, ice freezing his veins. “Why?”
“I don’t know? To fetch him drinks and stuff? That’s mostly what I’ve been doing anyway. Just please don’t make a big deal of it, Cody.”
Cody nodded to Fives and Echo to release Rex’s arms and they obeyed immediately, but didn’t go far from him.
“That creep is using you like you’re some sort of slave and you expect me not to make a big deal of it?” Cody boomed and turned around to face the rest of the dormitory, “Where is that crud face?”
“I think he already left.” He said and tugged at Cody’s arm, “If you confront him, he’s only going to make it worse for me and for you! He’s a prefect, Cody!”
“I don’t care.” He shook off his little brother, “Put on your bed sheet. We’re going to the party and I’m going to give that punk a piece of my mind.”
***
After seeing that Anakin and Viz were in good shape for the evening, Satine met Stass and Aayla by the common room to attend the party together. She’d been unable to trace down either Cody or Obi-Wan, but figured they’d been going together (if Obi-Wan went at all- which would not surprise her). Both girls were putting final touches on their own dresses when she appeared and they smiled at her brightly.
“Oh, you look beautiful, Satine.” Stass beamed, “Total Amata.”
“You two do as well,” She blushed, “Thank you both for the assist. It never would have happened without either of you.”
Both Aayla and Stass’s renditions of the classic dresses were also well assembled with Stass’s Altheda sporting an evergreen gown with a white bonnet to push back her dreadlocks and Aayla’s Asha gown being a more faded blue than she was and dotted with small rhinestones that made it appear as if it were sparkling in lowlight.
She was relieved they’d opted to use a thicker fabric in constructing their gowns, which while this made it more tedious (even with magic), worked out for the best in contrast to the frigid evening air that greeted them when they stepped outside.
“You ever think it strange that the forest is literally tacked as “forbidden” and we are still allowed to blissfully congregate right beside it?” Satine asked.
“Well, it’s been years since a student died there. Guess Headmaster Yoda just has other things to worry about.” Aayla shrugged.
They’d more or less heard the bonfire before truly seeing the full extent of the party, but upon walking through a charmed clearing that forbade any younger students, the three girls basked in the glory of teenage immunity as various witches and wizards of their year and older danced to loud music around a large flame. The fire, itself, was fake, since students had a history of burning themselves at the party. The warm glow felt authentic and if still presented with marshmallows or hotdogs, would toast them properly. The most impressive bit about the fire was how it flickered between an array of colors. Presently, it was lime green.
Each participant was dressed in a wide range of apparel, some casually donning a mask or a silly hat and others going significantly more in-depth. It was a relief, in a sense, to know she wasn’t the most ornate at the party. That prize certainly went to one Aurra Sing, a sixth year, who regardless of the chilly weather, seemed to have no problem trouncing about in little more than full green glitter body paint, yellow contacts, extensive face makeup, and a cape that emulated scales. Her teeth were even reminiscent of actual spikes.
“Look at Hondo and his buddies.” Stass chuckled as the boys followed Aurra around like she had been dangling a piece of meat on a stick for them to follow. All of the boys were dressed as pirates. Hondo even sported a peg-leg.
“Everyone looks pretty-” Satine was cut off by someone blindsiding her as they moved past, thus sloshing whatever their red beverage was onto the front of her dress.
“Oops!” Ventress raised a hand to her mouth in fake concern, “My bad, Duchess.”
She cringed at the derogatory nickname, which was born of Ventress’ firm belief that Satine thought she was better than everyone else.
“You,” She hissed, shivering at the way the cold drink seeped through the fabric and to her skin. It was as though the breeze was perfectly timed to bustle through the trees. “You did that on purpose!”
“And what if I did? No knight to save you?” She said coolly.
“No, actually, I’m quite adept at solving my own problems, thank you. Really, I’m more surprised you had the mental capacity to read the book in the first place.”
Ventress narrowed her venomous blue eyes and placed her hands on her hips, “My family had to be quite familiar with it, seeing as my parents participated in the trial to get it barred from shelves.”
“You say that as though it’s something to be proud of.” She returned, ignoring Stass and Aayla, who tried to lead her away from the witch, but while Satine would never condone the pitiful usage of violence, was never one to back down from a debate.
“Ridding the world of paltry propaganda is more noble than playing fantasy.”
Satine crossed her arms, “And yet, the Ministry of Magic didn’t see it that way.”
“That’s because of Headmaster Yoda- the old fool.” She scowled. “His lack of foresight will bring the end of our community.”
“Go on, you can say hate group.” Satine retorted darkly, “Otherwise, I don’t think I’m the one enraptured in fantasy.”
A small smile flickered on Ventress’s lips, “Now, now, Duchess, to hate you, would mean I’d have to care the slightest bit about you.”
As she sashayed away from the three girls, looking wretchedly pleased with herself, Satine, clenched her fist. She wasn’t sure why Asajj Ventress so obviously had it out for her, specifically. She knew she disliked muggles and muggle borns, but there were plenty of those running about Hogwarts for her to harass. This hadn’t started occurring until around their third year, but it had only gotten worse since Satine had been named prefect.
“Nice face paint, though! Really scary!” Satine called after her, knowing good and well that Ventress was not wearing face paint. It was from this distance that it ironically occurred to Satine that Ventress was dressed as an angel.
A pretty scantily dressed angel, but an angel all the same.
“Yeah… You showed her.” Stass muttered dryly and Aayla nudged her.
“Look who decided to show up!”
Satine turned the other direction to see one Obi-Wan Kenobi walking with hands in his pockets and looking drastically out of place in khaki pants and a gray sweater, lacking absolutely any indication that he was attending anything remotely festive.
Perhaps it was because she was still reeling off her encounter with Ventress, but Satine stormed through Aayla and Stass like a hurricane and stalked up to him, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him to the side.
He eyed her up and down, eyes wide. “Wow, you look-”
“-What are you doing?” She demanded, and fought to ignore the heat that was climbing way to her cheeks.
“Hello to you too.” He frowned, forgoing whatever he was about to say. “I’m doing well, thank you for asking. How are you?”
“I’d be doing better if you had an ounce of holiday spirit.” She sighed and looked around her, trying to find something- anything- to fix into a quick costume for him.
“I told you I’m not much for Halloween.” He said, but when she fixed her stare back to him, his eyes quickly snapped from where they’d been inspecting her dress again to hers.
“Yes, well, that won’t do in the slightest.”
As if reading her mind, Stass cut into the conversation with a metallic serving tray. At first, Satine was confused, but her friend grinned in response.
“You could always use it to fasten a knight’s helmet real quick.”
She nodded, “Oh, thank you, that is- Wait.”
A rogue giggle escaped from Stass’s lips and she hastily covered her mouth with wide eyes before scurrying out of arm’s length and over to a much less ashamed Aayla, whose head was tilted back in full-fledged laughter.
“So that was their little plan all along.” She growled under her breath, gripping onto the serving tray with vice-like strength. How could she have been stupid enough to walk right into this trap?
“Satine?” Obi-Wan’s confused voice cut into her seething brain and his eyes were even more perplexed when she turned back to look at him. “What’s wrong with that idea?”
She opened her mouth to explain her shortsightedness and caught herself, tongue suddenly going fat as her words turned to dust. Instead, she just tried to rack her brain for an explanation that wasn’t absolutely humiliating and could feel herself going redder by the moment. She looked from the serving tray and the proposed idea of his becoming a knight, then back to her own dress, and most damningly, the charmingly concerned look on his face.
“Are you feeling alright?” He asked after she’d stammered like an idiot for a moment. He reached out and gently pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “You’re flushed.”
“N-no, I’m fine.” She gulped, “I… I was just…”
“Going to turn that into a knight’s helmet?” He smiled lightly, “I won’t make fun of you if you mess up.”
Relief eased through her as it seemed he hadn’t yet made the connection. Maybe he didn’t recognize exactly what she was supposed to be or the significance of his being a knight? Or maybe, she reasoned, it didn’t really matter all that much to him. All the same, she expertly transfigured the metal tray into a replica knight’s helmet.
“Brilliant, as always.” He nudged her and she willed her hands not to shake as she carefully lifted the helmet up and placed it over perfectly quaffed hair. She took the moment of his obscured vision to briefly appreciate how much he’d grown over the summer.
She gently lifted the flap, revealing bright blue-gray eyes. He saluted her playfully, which she returned with a smile that felt like it might break her face.
She cleared her throat, “Well, sir knight, I do believe you owe me.”
“I do see candied apples over there.” He nodded and accidentally knocked the flap down, which both moved at the same time to fix, bumping hands for a moment before she dropped hers and let him take care of it. She did due diligence not to focus on the way they both avoided each other’s gaze afterwards. “Uh, yes, better get to that.”
***
“Is tonight the night?” Tyranus asked his master as they were shrouded in black. It was perilous enough to meet under such conditions, but seeing as plans were finally moving forwards, it seemed worth seeing that nothing went askew.
At last, they would be seen and the foolish administration would understand why casting their fears to the shadows only provided them succor.
“Patience, my apprentice.” His master said, glowing yellow eyes illuminated behind his hood, “Do you not remember what became of the last apprentice that rushed into things?”
Tyranus did, but he did not have to fear such a fate. He was meticulous, like his master, and cared more for the outcome of their righteous victory than sinking his teeth into the festering pain they would inflict along the way.
“Do not compare me to him.” He spat, “I am not a bloodthirsty mongrel.”
“Perhaps not,” Sidious’ calm and frozen voice tutted, “Tonight, we make our sacrifice.”
“She shall rise at his descent.”
“She shall rise.” His pale lips curled into a crooked grin. “Tonight.”
***
The secret entry to one of the underground tunnels was located in the restricted section of the library, which meant that since Anakin was unable to magically become invisible, he would have to be stealthy in avoiding the various ghosts and poltergeists that typically clung nearby. Worst of all, more professors seemed to crowd around the library that evening than ever. He’d nearly ran square into Professor Dooku, who despite his usual sternness and tendency to hand detention out to anyone who ran the halls, didn’t spare him a second to even apologize before skirting around him and continuing on his way.
“That was lucky.” He muttered to himself.
It was possible that the rightness of his plan was not merely his sweet tooth’s desire to sink itself into that delectable candy that was at the end of the tunnel, but because it was truly meant to be. The moon was full, which according to legend, tended to make all sorts of strange occurrences take place.
He stopped in front of a bookshelf that was furthest away from the reception desk. Its shelves were lined with a varying degree of books that were not supposed to meet the eyes of students.
“Why even have books you can’t read?” Anakin wondered. “That’s like having words you can’t say. Stupid.”
Did that mean he would ever dare to curse in front of his mother? Absolutely not.
However, he never cared much for reading for fun. When he explained to Viz that part of his plan required delving into the restricted section, the boy had instantly lit up, stating that the knowledge that was on those shelves was only known to few wizards. To Anakin, that just seemed foolish.
Regardless, he’d watched enough TV to understand the probability of one of the books being the physical switch to the tunnel. With Viz taking guard and walkie talkies in their pockets, there was very little that could make this plan go awry. Plus, according to the map, there were no ghosts on the floor at all.
“I told you this was going to work, Viz.” Anakin said into the radio.
Vizsla had looked at him like he had four heads when he removed the walkies from his pouch earlier that evening, but Anakin knew he’d been correct in bringing them, especially since he had absolutely no idea on how wizards communicated locally. It was funny, though, because Vizsla was muggle-born and would likely know what a walkie talkie was.
Anakin dismissed the thought. That kid practically lived under a rock anyway. With any help from him, he’d slowly pull him from his shell. Maybe from now on, if this all went according to plan, he would have a third to his duo with Rex. That was certainly more friends than he was used to having in school.
He’d assumed too early, unfortunately, because as Anakin hastily removed and replaced every single book at the entryway shelf, he found absolutely no reaction. What kind of mysterious hallway was this? He did notice that there was a book missing at the bottom of the shelf, towards the end of the alphabet.
“Bollocks.” He cursed, “Viz, anything?”
Silence.
Except for the distinct sound of heels clicking on stone flooring.
“Viz?” He asked again, but noticed for the first time that his walkie wasn’t lighting up in the slightest when he pressed the red button on the side. “Dang, I swore I charged these things.”
He tossed it to the side haphazardly as he quickly pulled out the map and noticed that Professor Palpatine was coming his way. He doubted when the Professor took pity on him and gave him the map, he meant for it to be used for such frivolous purposes. Palpatine was kind and sympathetic, but he wasn’t a pushover.
He looked both ways hastily, trying to mentally scribe out his best chance of escape. When nothing seemed to pop out of thin air, he stamped his foot in frustration, ready to accept whatever unfortunate consequences would come his way.
They never came, of course, because whatever he’d stomped had removed the floor from beneath him and sent him downwards into a spiral of total darkness.
Anakin had a bad feeling about this.
***
Obi-Wan had a bad feeling about this. He wasn’t much for parties in the first place, always having felt that there was this required level of artificial conversation that diluted any real possible fun that could occur. However, it had been difficult to argue with his friends, who always had his best interest in mind, and then Qui-Gon, who was wise beyond his years despite what anyone else thought.
The party had started fine enough for him. Satine saddled him with a makeshift knight’s helmet that must have looked positively ridiculous on him, because she could barely stand to look him in the eye for too long. It was just as good that the flap kept sliding down and slamming shut over his face, because looking at her was a lot as well. A good “a lot”, but overwhelming all the same in this atmosphere.
She’d been pleased that he performed a spell to eradicate the stain on her stomach, which he hardly noticed until she’d pointed it out. Ventress’s doing, unsurprisingly, but karma was sometimes a more effective tool than magic, because the witch in question managed to slip on a wet leaf and slide into a muddy puddle. Satine was above laughing at her as many others had, but judging by the way her back straightened, she was not upset by the turn of events.
“Remind me again what you are, exactly?” He asked as they sat on a log and watched Hondo attempt break-dancing in an effort to best Sy Snootles’ moveset.
“Oh!” She finished off a piece of toffee and used her other hand to place a lock of hair behind her ear. It was down and flowing today, trailing to the middle of her back in magnificent golden waves. “Have you ever read the Fountain of Fair Fortune?”
She seemed anxious and he was unsure why, but she fiddled with her hands in her lap while maintaining her gaze towards the dancing partygoers. Stass and Aayla had joined in on the fun and chanted loudly to some popular song that neither he or Satine seemed to catch onto.
Still, the title of the book sounded familiar enough. “Remind me what it’s about?”
“Okay.” She shifted in her seat to face him, “There’s this fountain of-”
“-Fair fortune?” He smirked.
She chuckled and swatted his arm, “Yes, do you want to tell it?”
“Seeing as I don’t know it, no.” He said.
“Very well then,” She continued, “And it's only accessible once a year for one person to bathe in to achieve eternal luck. Three witches meet and decide to work together to find the fountain. There’s Asha, whose mysterious illness cannot be cured by any healer, Altheda, who was robbed and is stuck in poverty, and Amata, who had her heart broken and wished to have it mended.”
“And that’s you.” He clarified after she’d gestured to herself on the last name.
“Stass and Aayla’s idea.” She cast a dirty look towards them before proceeding, “Anyway, they journey off and run into a muggle knight-”
“-Oh!” Obi-Wan patted his leg excitedly at the revelation, “I knew I’d heard of this one. The knight gets roped into the journey, correct?”
“Yes!” She smiled.
He laughed, “I suppose I understand why you were a little hesitant to dress me up as the knight then.”
She froze, eyes bulged, “You do?”
“Yeah?” Obi-Wan frowned, “Not sure how I’d feel giving you a character that’s been impaled.”
She narrowed her eyes, “That’s not what- What are you on about?”
“The end of the story?” He didn’t understand her sudden disposition, because that had been it, right? It was similar to the Grimm fairy tales in how they’d reached less than ideal endings, but those had been his parents’ preferred versions, stating that the real world was a scarier place than what was made up in stories.
“I haven’t heard that story in a long time.” He conceded, “But I remember it scared me a bit as a young child. I’m surprised you like it so.”
“I don’t think you heard it correctly.” She said, “Because the knight doesn’t die.”
“Yes he does.”
“No,” She said pointedly, “He doesn’t.”
He shook his head, annoyed. “I distinctly remember as a child, my mother read me-”
Satine stood to her feet, ears red and eyes blazing in a way that had nothing to do with the fire in the background. “-Well, she read you the wrong version!”
He opened his mouth to retaliate that point, but was interrupted by the stark sound of someone’s jaw being cracked against a balled fist. In a flash, a group had surrounded the brawling figures and began cheering as though this was a free sporting event. Instantly, Obi-Wan and Satine forgot their quarrel and shoved through the crowd of onlookers to see their friend, Cody, rolling around the ground with Pong Krell.
***
The way down the abyss would have been like a slide had it not felt like Anakin was being spanked the entire way down. It was difficult to gage how far he’d fallen since the hole at which he fell through was now closed above him, leaving him completely engulfed in complete black. The way his body hit the ground made it feel like it wasn’t as high as he’d originally anticipated. He’d fallen off his fair share of skate ramps to know what that distance vaguely felt like.
He groaned and crawled to his feet. How the heck was he supposed to see the map in all this darkness?
“Oh crap, that’s right. Lumos.” He whispered and sure enough, a little blip of light illuminated the minimal space around him as a flashlight might.
He waved his wand around, taking stock of his surroundings. Even with the glowing wand, he was unable to make out where the ceiling started or how deep this trench of darkness stretched. He would be significantly more afraid if he didn’t logically understand that these were built on purpose ages ago to transport goods during the war (Palpatine hadn’t specified too much, but Anakin had also been too eager to stick around for long).
Hogwarts was a happy place. Or at least, he told himself that as he considered the emblematic symbols of serpents engraved into the walls. He shined his light on one in particular, which showcased a beast larger than all of the rest. Tiny stick figures bowed down to it except for one, who rode the beast as though it were his trusty steed. When Anakin reached out to brush away dust and dirt to get a better look, the drawings began to move.
“I love magic.” He smiled.
The beast climbed to the highest point of the tower and unleashed a puff of what Anakin imagined was fire, but could have been anything of damaging substance. His imagination could only stretch so far and as it stood, magic always seemed to supersede expectations.
The beast didn’t turn and kill the little stick people that worshipped it, but the one who rode on its back.
“Weird.” He commented as the sequence seemed to start over, startling himself by his own echo.
He went to dig the map out of his sweatshirt pocket, but only found the mask that completed his outfit. Nearly dropping his wand in the process and driven by panic, he smacked his jeans pockets in hopes of misplacing it there, but with no success. Slowly, he looked up at where he’d come from, realizing that this might have been a bigger problem than he thought.
“This candy better be worth it,” He grumbled, as he extended his wand behind and ahead of him, trying to debate which way to go.
This would have been a prime moment to have one of those photographic memories that Obi-Wan had. The older boy always played it off and still insisted on burying his nose in a book until (and oftentimes after) his exams. If Anakin had that sort of advantage, his procrastination habits would only worsen.
If Obi-Wan were here, he’d lecture Anakin that the main objective was no longer (and shouldn’t have ever been) retrieving sweets, but survival. To be fair, he wouldn’t have been here at all had Obi-Wan been given anything to say about it, but he refused to get too caught up in the details.
“This is what I get for planning and reading in advance. Nothing!” he sighed and then paused, “I really need to stop talking to myself.”
It sounded like the dripping sound was coming from somewhere behind him, so Anakin decided going towards water might be the better choice. He wasn’t sure why, but anytime anyone had been lost in movies, they always followed a river or went towards a general body of water.
Dust particles floated around him and drifted through open space, but were interrupted in their path by the bulb at the end of his wand. He cast his light every which way and tried to avoid the thought of cobwebs or being stuck down here for all of eternity. After all, he’d left the map behind upstairs. Surely, someone would piece together where he’d gone.
The bones he tripped over said otherwise.
Moisture gathered along the sides of the path and Anakin had to alternate between keeping his wand pointed forward and down at the ground to ensure he didn’t run into a wall.
“Or anything else.”
Occasionally, there were other crudely drawn pictures on the wall, but Anakin kept his stride and ignored them, noting only that it seemed like they were following him as he walked. His steps echoed throughout the tunnel, completely in tandem with the dripping sound in the distance, which seemed to grow all the more prevalent the faster he walked.
“I’m not afraid.” He said and steeled his courage to continue onward.
As the light from his wand reflected off of a cracked human skull, he swallowed and repeated the same mantra. He was placed in Gryffindor house for a reason and would sooner die than be labeled as weak or cowardly.
That didn’t stop him from hurrying even faster in his direction, drifting through and around the winding labyrinth in hopes of running smack into a door that led anywhere at this point. He would even accept an entryway into Headmaster Yoda’s office. Detention was looking pretty good in comparison to the wet stone-lined walls.
Anakin froze in his tracks as the droplets, which had previously been falling with impressive speed and sound, abruptly stopped.
He waved his wand around and tried to keep his movements silent. Anything that lived this far below the surface of light and warmth likely didn’t thrive on eyesight alone. When the time spent still seemed to blend together and his arm ached from keeping his wand out, he released a heavy breath.
He needed to keep his anxieties at bay.
That was difficult to do when a hot gust of foul air blasted him forward to his hands and knees. When he slowly turned his head, he was meant with two golden eyes and the source of the dripping sound. Only, as Anakin raised his wand and revealed the full extent of the metal gate, it wasn’t water, but blood.
***
“How old are you, Mr. Fett?” Mace Windu’s voice was one you did not question or interrupt, especially when he was angry or upset. Unfortunately for most students, Professor Windu was usually some degree of displeased. However, as he paced back forth across his large office, casting his disapproving glare on Cody, who sat front and centered with his head tilted down, he seemed particularly peeved.
“I’m 15, sir.” He kept his tone even.
“And correct me if I’m wrong, but you aren’t a fool, right?”
Satine suspected it had to do with the fact that he was in what she assumed to be pajamas. She and Obi-Wan, being the prefects that broke up the scuffle, stood behind Cody, while Pong Krell was somewhere in the hospital wing getting a bloody lip and snout tended to by the healers. While she didn’t approve of Cody’s methods, she knew he likely had his reasons for lashing out. Rex, who was the only one who could get him to stop swinging at Krell, was too upset to drag any information from.
“I asked you a question.” Windu said after a long period of stunted silence.
Satine exchanged a concerned look with Obi-Wan, who was just as stiff and uncomfortable to be in the room as she was. Neither wanted to see their friend get in trouble, even if he did end the bonfire in record-breaking time.
“No, sir.” Cody gritted while keeping his eyes on his shoes.
“I was just checking, because when I got the notice that the captain of Gryffindor’s Quidditch team was throttling a prefect in the midst of an upperclassmen event, I thought: well, that sounds like the behavior of a childish savage. And I never took you for that. But maybe, I was wrong.”
Cody chose not to respond, which was the wisest case scenario given the circumstances.
“You’re not a child anymore, Mr. Fett, which means it is no longer suitable for you to handle your issues like one. When I granted you position as captain of the team, I figured that regardless of your youth, you might grow to the occasion and recognize that you are in a position of responsibility. If my prefects and captains all behave like you did tonight, what will become of the following generations?”
Again, Cody didn’t answer, but that wasn’t acceptable for Professor Windu, who smacked a hand on his desk, letting each student start at the reverberation.
“We would have chaos!” He said quietly. “We’ve been in school for no more than two months and I fear I made the wrong decision.”
“What?” Cody’s head shot up, vigor returned to his voice.
“Ah, he speaks.” He said sardonically.
“Professor?” Obi-Wan suddenly spoke up, “I believe Krell instigated the altercation, sir.”
“Krell has been nothing more than an exemplary student, Mr. Kenobi.” Windu turned his attention to him and Satine quietly hoped she would not lose two friends to his fiery gaze in one evening. “And I have several eye witness accounts saying he never took a single swing… Not even in retaliation.”
“He’s been bullying my brother!” Cody protested, “All to get back at me for being promoted as captain.”
“From what I understand, Mr. Krell has been implementing certain measures of discipline regarding your brother’s less than exemplary record- some simple cleaning and chores here and there. He’s been tardy and on more than one occasion caught causing mischief alongside Skywalker.”
At that, Windu cast a pointed look towards Obi-Wan, who stiffened beside Satine.
“That’s not what’s happening.” Cody said, “He’s hardly had any time to himself lately. He looks exhausted! You can’t see it, because Krell covers his tracks.”
“If by “covers his tracks”, you mean he has several esteemed recommendations from all of his professors, several records of voluntary community service, a near-perfect GPA, and has never stepped a toe out of line, I’d say yes, he does. And he does it well.”
At that, Windu looked to Obi-Wan and Satine for any source of confirmation. Satine cleared her throat.
“With all due respect, Professor, Ben and myself are also both historically “in line” and we know Cody. We can vouch that he would never act without reason to do so.”
He narrowed his eyes at her in consideration, “Yes, I know that, Ms. Kryze, but you of all people likely agree that Mr. Fett’s actions were brash and impetuous. That cannot go overlooked.”
“Please don’t remove him from the team, sir.” Obi-Wan said, “I’ve seen Krell and Rex and I do believe it deserves a closer look. Perhaps if you switched them-”
“-Rex, himself, has not made a formal complaint.” Windu sighed, “And the rules dictate that he would not only need to do so, but I would need more than hearsay from a family member that took to swinging before considering how that might tarnish his reputation.”
Off both Obi-Wan and Satine’s disappointed looks, he sighed, “But, it would be foolish not to consider all angles. The team rallies behind Cody and so do his brothers. Do not mistake this as a free pass. Should you pull another stunt like this, you will be stripped of your status as captain. Do you hear me, Fett?”
Cody looked up, anger blazing in his eyes. “I hear you, sir. What of Krell?”
“If what you three claim is true, I will intervene. I wish you came to me as opposed to fighting first. In the meantime, 50 points will be deducted from Gryffindor and you will require peer mediation classes, Mr. Fett. It’s best if we get that anger in check before you truly hurt someone.”
Cody opened his mouth to respond, but Satine nudged him. While she didn’t believe it to be fair, she knew that his mouth could only get him into further trouble.
“Thank you, sir.” He said instead and stood to his feet.
“Satine, Obi-Wan, please see him back to the Gryffindor common room. I’ve got to send an owl to the Krell household. I doubt we will be expecting a pleasant response.”
They nodded and escorted Cody back to the painting of the fat lady in silence. Obi-Wan tried to start an amicable conversation to lighten the mood with little results. It wasn’t fair and they all knew it. While Satine, herself, had never known Pong Krell to be cruel, she’d never really come into contact with him as much as Cody did. She’d always believed their rivalry was more in Cody’s head than in reality, but after tonight, it was obvious that it went deeper than it seemed.
“I won’t just take this lying down.” Cody said, “Windu isn’t going to do anything.”
“We’ll figure something out, mate.” Obi-Wan said gently and watched as Cody muttered the password and stepped inside the corridor. They watched it close behind him, understanding that this wouldn’t be the last of it. The Fett’s were not known for the ability to release grudges, especially when it came to one of their own.
She and Obi-Wan didn’t talk much as they walked back to the Ravenclaw common room. It was likely they had different opinions on the matter. She was annoyed that Cody simply acted before thinking about the consequences. If they took the time to build a case against Krell instead of socking him in the jaw, they might have met more success. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, probably understood Cody’s desire to act a little more thoroughly.
“I just hope he doesn’t do anything stupid.” She said finally as he held the door open for her to enter inside.
“Me neither.” He agreed.
Well, at least they had something they agreed on.
Before ascending the staircase to go up to the two juxtapositioned bookcases that covered the respective dorms, she turned to bid him goodnight.
“Well, I’m sure we’ll be hearing more of this tomorrow.” She said.
“So much for Halloween.” He said.
“Yeah.” She laughed lightly, “Well there’s always next year. We ought to both dress as knights next time if there’s to be another joust.”
He nodded and she started to turn, feeling exhaustion from the evening that was cut short weighing on her a little too heavily at this point. However, his gentle voice stopped her.
“Satine?” He asked.
“Yes?” She turned back to him, briefly taking in with mild intrigue how his hair wasn’t even slightly out of place after wearing a helmet all evening. It must have been charmed.
“How did the story actually end?”
It took her a moment to understand what he was referring to, since a lot had transpired since their earlier argument.
“Oh, that.” She ran a hand through her hair, loosening the top part from its braid. “We- they fall in love.”
“The muggle knight and the witch?” He asked.
“Yeah.” She said lightly, not quite knowing what to expect from his reaction.
He considered that for a moment and then smiled, “You’re right, that’s much better.”
And he turned to open the bookcase and walked up a separate set of steps, leaving Satine breathless and staring where he’d previously been. It wasn’t until the bookcase shut behind him that she felt safe to release the breath that had been caught in her throat.
“It is.” She hummed.
***
Anakin was supposed to be in bed right now.
However, he was far from tired as he gazed into bright golden eyes that broke through the shadowed obscurity beyond the gate, which was so much more ominous than the blackest night. The eyes simultaneously intrigued and frightened him, but all the same, he felt the intense gravitational pull forwards. His mind fought this urge, reminding himself of the bloody remains of an unlucky figure that lay to the side.
Soft puffs of hot air rustled through his hair, warm like a sea breeze, but metallic in stench as they continued their staredown. Why was it kept down here? And for how long? Did the professors and headmaster know about this? He was beginning to understand his mother’s hesitance in Hogwarts, but Anakin really didn’t have time to consider any of those thoughts too decisively, because he was overwhelmed by fascination rather than fear. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he swore this creature was sad and wanting for freedom. Maybe, Anakin saw a bit too much of himself in it.
“Um, hi?” He tried meekly.
A soft but curious growl seemed to vibrate from the creature and through the floor. When he made no signs of aggression, he carefully reached forward and watched with severity for any harsh movement. His fingers grazed the gate to nothing. Instead, it sounded almost like the beast purred at Anakin’s curiosity. The real question was whether this was part of a trap or sheer delight over cognizant interaction.
He waved his wand around, using the light to gage what its living conditions were like and while it appeared to Anakin that the interior was quite large, his small bulb of lumination could not make out the actual shape and length of the creature itself, just that its front was rounded like a giant boulder and that it had a jagged maroon burn mark down its orange skin. He couldn’t see any teeth, but the gate had deep and inconsistent indents scattered around as well as slash lines.
Clearly, it had tried to escape.
“It must get lonely down here.” Anakin whispered.
The beast didn’t answer, but closed its eyes when Anakin’s hand reached the scaly surface of what he could only assume was a snout and heavily exhaled. It felt as though it was covered in hard plates and rocks that reminded him of what he’d always imagined dinosaurs to feel like. Between the ridges, he could detect a squishy and smooth skin and even with the light brush of his fingertips, it still flinched. Still, he didn’t hesitate to make small and comforting strokes as his mother would when he was plagued by nightmares. Being stuck in this labyrinth for a couple hours was depressing enough, let alone locked away for an extended period of time.
The gate was far too weak to not be enchanted somehow, and whenever Anakin brushed against it, he realized it was much sturdier than it appeared. And yet, it did not appear to affect human beings. By the way the creature remained a good meter behind the opening and the scabbed over burns and cuts across its skin, it wasn’t difficult to deduce that the gate was somehow cursed to maintain this specific creature.
And yet, Anakin felt something in his soul, a kinship, that seemed to haunt him and tempt him all in the same breath. He averted his gaze from the golden eyes, because in them, he could see the destruction of the past and future. Who’s past and future, he did not know. All he knew was that there was only pain and suffering here and he desperately wanted an escape.
He started at the faded sound of the clock that habitually rang every evening at midnight and every day at noon. He’d evidently gotten used to sleeping through it if he didn’t have astronomy, but while significantly muffled, Anakin was surprised to be able to hear it clearly from down this way.
When the beast stirred beneath his touch, Anakin turned his gaze and noticed a domineering shadow cast off the corner wall in the opposite direction. Steps that carried weight echoed across the stone floor at a brisk pace, crisp oxford’s clicking with purpose. For a brief second, Anakin felt relieved he’d been found. However, as he turned his head back to the suddenly recoiled beast, he realized with horror that any individual that kept a mysterious monster down in the hidden tunnels of Hogwarts, was likely not a friend to him.
So, as far as he could see, he had a choice and he’d made it considerably quickly. This was good, because by the time he managed to squeeze himself through the small cracked opening in the grate, the figure turned the corner and stood where he’d just been.
He gripped his wand so tight that it felt as though it might become a part of him and desperately tried to slow down his heart that was clattering in his chest. He raised a finger to his lips in futile hopes of agreeing to silence with this creature. Clearly afraid from past experience, it huffed and backed away from the entry point. The hooded individual did not speak, but Anakin kept himself at a curious angle that only allowed him minimal access while also remaining hidden.
Even in the darkness that engulfed the room, the figure’s cloaks were an obsidian that Anakin could not name and they shrouded his face completely. His wand was at the ready and a brief gleam of cobalt lightning struck the beast and for the first real time, Anakin saw the full extent of it from his spot curled in a ball in the corner. It turned out, there was much more to it than the head that Anakin had only caught a glimpse of. It was the most massive thing Anakin had ever seen- looking more like a mega-maxed lizard at the intimidating size of around 90 meters. It was lean for its length, but covered completely in the orange and yellow plates that he had previously felt. Its arms and legs had gigantic talons on the ends of its digits and the same was said for the end of the tip of its tail, which could wrap around the entirety of the brute and then have some leftover.
He winced at the persistent waves of shocks that enraged it, bringing its eyes to a mean red glow as its body spasmed. As its shrill shriek rattled the entire structure, causing specks of dust to crumble down from the ceiling, all Anakin could notice was the row of knives that layered its mouth in several sets, suitable to tear through anything.
Though they’d talked about it in school, it was the first time Anakin had ever seen magic used to destroy rather than create and he would never forget the tears it brought to his eyes at the power and tragedy of it all.
Still, there wasn’t much he could do against actual lightning. He doubted that wingardium leviosa or alohomora would be of much assistance in this instance, and that was about as deep as his useful magic went at the moment. Transfiguration would take a great deal of effort that he couldn’t spare due to the amount of focus it was taking not to let his teeth chatter.
He tried to use the reflected light from the torturous magic spell to check out his surroundings, noting that to his right across the surprisingly spacious cavern (after all, it could fit this thing), there was another gate that led somewhere, anywhere, that was not where Anakin currently was trapped.
He rushed across the clearing, trying very hard to banish the thoughts of the beast and its woeful and angry cries with tears of his own streaming down his cheeks. He bit his lip so hard that he could taste blood and when he slid down a small slope and squeezed under the miniscule space between the second gate and the ground, he landed hard on smooth stone flooring. There was a lever to his right hand side that was ever tempting to yank and he rested his hand there for just a moment, pondering this option. He could see above just how deep this cavern was thanks to sparsely located enchanted candles that illuminated each corner of this… temple.
He swore the stones that towered up to the top of the ceiling had faces carved in compliance to their shadows that grimaced down at him with further reminder that he did not belong here. To his left, a long pathway that led to a tunnel far better lit than the one Anakin had traveled wound into obscurity and alongside it was an array of statues of warriors immortalized in suffering. The detail on them was shockingly accurate and Anakin wondered for a brief moment just how they’d captured such likeness.
“YOU THERE!” A hissing voice crept in his ear and cold shock permeated through him enough to freeze him in place.
Anakin didn’t dare breathe, let alone speak. His mind was surely playing tricks on him. When silence was all that persisted, he finally dared to turn around and noticed that the hooded figure was no more.
His breath grew ragged, but his eyes, however, could not stop taking the space in under sharper clarity, as though that would find him a way out. There was a stone table with a sword delved through it, dried blood caked into the surface and above it, one clear word: sacrifice.
A firm hand clasped his shoulder, the feeling of a cold ring bearing into his collarbone and it took everything in his power not to scream.
“Right on time.” A thick voice whispered. “Last words?”
Rage coiled over Anakin and he turned in the man’s grasp, still unable to see his face through the bleakness of the cloaks.
“So, what? You’re just going to kill some little kid? So tough.” He griped, “I’ve known guys like you my whole life: magic or not. And I’ll never be afraid of you.”
A sardonic laugh echoed off the walls, but the man still retained his quiet vibrato, “I’m not the one you should fear. It was foretold that you would be here.”
“By who?” Anakin just wanted to know who snitched. Viz? How would he have this sort of connection.
“My master.” And while he couldn’t see it, Anakin could sense a wicked grin breaking way on his captor’s face.
“Well, sir, as much as I’d like to be your cultish human sacrifice, I think you’ve got bigger fish to fry right now.”
“Oh?”
A gust of hot breath propelled them forward, knocking Anakin out of the phantom’s cold grasp and onto his behind. It gave him the immaculate view of the figure in question getting knocked into the stone table. The man was temporarily subdued in stillness. When he thought the beast would finish the job, though, it whipped its head back towards Anakin and growled.
“Or,” Anakin winced, “Maybe I’ve got a bigger fish to fry.”
He leapt just at the moment the beast charged and landed on the top of its head. It pushed forward and up, crushing through the ceiling and only persisting upwards from there. Anakin did everything in his power to keep his hold on one of the spikes that protruded from its back. The beast roared and while Anakin could not understand its language, it sounded like vindication. Trouble was, as they broke through layer after layer of this secluded chamber, Anakin realized, with a strange concoction of relief and horror, that they would soon no longer be underground, but torpedoing straight through Hogwarts.
***
Obi-Wan liked to think he took his position as prefect quite seriously. He was diligent in his patrols, prudent with reports, and reasonable with other students. He refused to be the kind that found trouble in everything, but if presented to him, would not hesitate to administer detention. He never cared much for what most of the other students thought of him anyway. He acquired that skill from his formative years at Hogwarts.
While his vigilance was visible to any that could be seen, it didn’t make being jostled awake by a raging scream any easier. He still leapt into immediate, even if a little bleary, action while he checked on all of the boys in his dormitory, alongside the other prefects, before advising them to remain calm and still in the event that there was somehow an intruder.
It was well known that Hogwarts was charmed to prevent such an occurrence, but such precautions should not be withheld simply because the likelihood of something was miniscule.
The sixth year prefect, a rodian named Onaconda Farr, opted to stay back with the underclassmen in case anything went awry in the dorms, but if Hogwarts was sealed from all danger, the dorms were even doubled in those efforts, forbidding even those of the opposite gender to enter.
Obi-Wan and the seventh year prefect, Dantum Roohd, meandered through the bookcase to see their female prefect counterparts waiting for them with raised wands. Mon Mothma and Satine Kryze were ever formidable looking, even clad in pajamas. Satine, in particular, looked bright eyed and focused, despite the disarray of her hair, which fell half up and half down and off-centered, regardless of the original intent.
“Any word from Professor Dooku?” Obi-Wan asked.
“Nothing as of now.” Mon Mothma replied grimly. “I wonder if the other houses have had such luck.”
“Would it be wise to investigate?” Dantum asked. “Do we think it’s a Halloween prank?”
He was answered not by either girl, but by a rumbling that nearly knocked each of them off their feet. To Obi-Wan, it felt reminiscent of an earthquake, only exclusive to Hogwarts, like it came from the belly of the school.
“I’d like to see a prank that could make the entire school shake.” Satine said.
When the jostling returned, a deafening screech came with it and each tried to manage keeping their hands against their ears while also maintaining balance. A loud slam followed by the noise of crumbling infrastructure and each prefect looked at each other in shared alarm.
A moment of silence and stillness came before the window behind Satine was no longer depicting the glorious night sky, but a singular bloodshot eye.
“Oh that is not good.” He said.
Satine turned around in confusion and her eyes bulged in shock, “Oh, fu-”
“-We’ve got to find the professors.” Dantum said.
“Not without ensuring the safety of the underclassmen.” Mon Mothma argued, “Whatever that thing is, it’s scaled the tower!”
“We’ll split up.” Obi-Wan offered loudly, trying to battle for dominance with the persistent shrieks from outside. His heart was hammering in his chest, “Satine and I will search for help and make sure there aren’t any stragglers while you two gather the students and take them to Slytherin’s common room.”
It was the only option that made sense. Slytherin’s common room was the most underground portion of Hogwarts and would suffer the least amount of damage from any beast that could take to the sky and physically climb across the entirety of Hogwarts without consequence.
“A sound enough plan given the circumstances.” Mon Mothma agreed, “Though sending two fifth years into the chaos seems-”
“-Like something we do not have time to debate.” Satine cut her off and grabbed Obi-Wan by the hand to pull him into a run outside the door of their common room. Under normal circumstances, he might have been taken back by the sudden contact, but considering a raging monster was trying to pry Hogwarts apart, he didn’t pay mind to the physical guidance.
“We’ve got to find Dooku or Qui-Gon!” He yelled as they sprinted, nearly side by side down the stairwell of the tower, stumbling occasionally as the beast seemed to rock the tower back and forth as though it were designed to bobble. Absently, Obi-Wan wondered if it had been constructed for such a possibility.
“That is the plan.” She returned sharply, just narrowly dodging a piece of debris that fell from the ceiling. “I thought Hogwarts was charmed to prevent physical attacks from magical or non magical creatures!”
“You know, this is new for me too.” He said.
After finally bursting through the thick doors that led to the tower, moaning ghosts fluttered by them but no active signs of life.
“Okay, we should start by-” Satine stopped abruptly and looked at him in horror as if he’d just slapped her in the face.
“What?” He panicked, looking around him to ensure that he had somehow not transformed into an ugly yellow-eyed monster. “What’s wrong?”
“What on earth are you wearing?” She asked, voice high.
He blanched, mouth gaping like a fish out of water. It was safe to say it felt like he’d been knocked backwards into a pond of freezing water he was so off-guard. “What am I- These- Pajamas! What’s it to you?” He flared at the end of it.
Normally, he would never give Satine the opportunity to see him in sleepwear. He hardly accepted the notion that his classmates had to see him in vulnerable dress. However, he never thought them abnormal, since his parents wore a similar make. They were button-up in style, with a pocket square in the front that had the Kenobi crest pressed into it like a hard plate. The pattern, admittedly, was quite unusual and resembled a kaleidoscope of large boxes that housed several little boxes on the inside in a series of greens, blues, grays, browns, and oranges that often collided with one another. The collar had frills on it and the back even had a buttflap in case there was cause to rush in the middle of the night. He angled himself so Satine could not get a glimpse of that, of course.
“Those are not pajamas!” She shook her head, brow furrowed, “Those look like… Carny clothes!”
“They’re traditional!” He argued.
“They’re hideous.”
“Satine!”
She reached out and touched them, “And they’re scratchy! How on earth do you sleep in those?��
He didn’t know what she meant by that. Though upon looking at her closer, she was dressed very differently in a grey t-shirt and navy sweatpants.
Obi-Wan flinched, shaking off her hand while his face burned hot. “Can you please focus?”
She choked out a laugh, “I’ll try, but by God, I might be blind now after looking at you.”
“Meetra Surik!” Obi-Wan called the youngest-looking ghost that passed by, eager to get away from this line of conversation. She died an outcast from the rest of her peers and loved to lament over it.
“Kenobi!” She whirled, never a fan of Obi-Wan for his tendency to block her view of Cody, who she had a notorious crush on. Far be it from him to explain the difficulties that might arise in that pairing- the primary of which being that one was dead and one was alive. “Can’t you go bother someone else? I’m not trying to die twice in this horrid place.”
“That’s not physically possible, Meetra.” He sighed and tried to bring himself to a level of calmness he didn’t feel. “What in the blazes is going on?”
“Bloody hell if I know!” She roared, “I was on my nightly stroll through the herbology lab, debating on whether or not I should pluck a mandrake and stick it outside Professor Yaddle’s office, you know, because of the slander she spreads about me in her History of Magic class…”
Obi-Wan and Satine exchanged a confused glance, neither being able to note any reference of slander from Professor Yaddle, let alone in regards to any of her former students. However, as Obi-Wan thought of it, there was a brief unit on the deaths of Hogwarts students and Meetra might have been mentioned at some point because of this.
“When a tentacle came straight through the screen and almost took my head clean off! I didn’t even know that was possible!” She gasped and squished her face into a scowl, “Must be a return of the Kraken.”
“Oh, shut it, you silly girl!” The thick brogue of Vima Sunrider cut her off on what would surely be a lengthy rant.
“Girl? I’m well over a thousand years old!”
“Yes, but you died a girl, which means your maturity is stunted. Now move it along and stop spreading slander to the children.” The older ghost said.
Meetra stuck her tongue out at her, if not only just to prove Vima’s point. Before turning on her heels to continue floating in the direction she’d been heading towards. She paused before facing Obi-Wan again.
“Oh, Kenobi? Do tell that charming chaser friend of yours that I was asking for him.” She giggled.
“Ah yes, will do.” He coughed awkwardly and Satine raised an eyebrow at him in question. “Don’t ask.” He murmured.
When Vima Sunrider did not stop and hurriedly went in the opposite direction, towards the library, Obi-Wan and Satine both had the presence of thought to follow her, having to jog to keep up with the pace she was keeping. Paintings fell off the walls at the continued agitation, which became so overwhelming, that Satine was knocked into him at one point. They slammed against the bookcase and onto the floor. A copy of “Quidditch Through the Ages” fell onto his head.
“Sorry,” She muttered, ears bright red as she immediately pulled herself off his lap.
“S’okay.” He returned while forcing his eyes on the somber ghost that trailed straight through the lines of bookcases with effortless confidence that she knew where they were without so much as looking up. Obi-Wan knew too, because he’d quietly admired the section they were approaching during his entire career as a student of Hogwarts: the restricted section. His thirst for knowledge was overwhelming, but he always banished thoughts of sneaking in without much care.
He gave Satine an uncertain stare as they passed the barrier, but she only rolled her eyes at him.
“I think the teachers might forgive our indiscretion in light of more precedent events, Ben. Considering Godzilla is taking over the school.”
He frowned, “Who?”
“Nevermind.” She shook her head, and walked next to Vima Sunrider when they came to a halt. “Have you any idea going on, Lady Sunrider?”
A crack of lightning outside added to the horrors occurring and the whole building seemed to rattle in response. Specks of dust fluttered down and more ghosts seemed to round the corner in an effort to race to the dungeons. Behind them, Obi-Wan could hear the sounds of rapid footsteps and muffled voices of concern, meaning Mon Mothma and Dantum Roohd were performing their end of the deal.
The old ghost seemed to consider this, wisdom in her eyes as she gazed out beyond the windows of which she hadn’t crossed in centuries. Droplets of rain traced haphazardly down the glass panes and drizzled into obscurity. White light and thunderous shrieks raged outside of Hogwarts, which tried its best to fend off the attempted intruder.
She ran a hand through long white hair and grimaced, “I thought they’d died out.”
“What’s that?” Obi-Wan asked.
“The impenetrable behemoth. The mystical demon. The wizard-killer.” She listed the names in a tone that almost sounded revering before whispering, “The Zillo Beast.”
“Zillo Beast?” Satine wrinkled her nose. “I’ve never read of a Zillo Beast?”
“Not everything that’s true is found in books, Ms. Kryze.” She said knowingly. “And the mystery that is the Zillo Beast, while unbelievable, is true. Wizards of the past saw to extinguishing them and those that did not… Had other purposes in mind.”
“But, the magical barriers-” Obi-Wan began.
“-Are useless against creatures that are alleged to be extinct.” She said. “The Zillo Beast was long gone before Hogwarts was even a blink in the founder’s eyes. Or so we believed that to be the case.”
“Then why do you know of it?” He asked, a bit flustered that he’d forgotten how Vima knew the founders of Hogwarts quite well and had eventually been a professor here, despite having never attended.
“A village of my ancestors met their fiery deaths to this beast. They are indestructible, and bring havoc in their paths.” She said. “And they were only rumored to rise as the darkest omen.”
“How do we stop it?” Obi-Wan asked.
Vima’s gaze was full of years that matched a life of unparalleled knowledge- at least to the living- and her mouth was set in a frown. Then, she broke out into a laugh, as if realizing he was being serious and it was just the most tickling joke in the world.
“You don’t, boy. This is only confirming what we ghosts have known for quite some time.” She wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling, “The prophecy has started. The darkest of times are approaching. Everything will burn.”
“You mean, Hogwarts?” Satine asked warily.
“Hogwarts, the wizarding community, the world.” She said darkly, eyes caught on the rainfall once again as the beast raged in the distance, “And it’s only the beginning.”
“Well, maybe you’ve given up.” Satine said stiffly, hands clenched into tight fists, “But we haven’t. If you’re not going to help us, we’ll find another way.”
Obi-Wan always marveled at Satine’s conviction, even if she couldn’t possibly have a plan up her sleeve in such an unpredictable occurrence. She still seemed beyond sure of herself and her moral compass, steeled in the right direction each and every time. He often wondered what he did to deserve a friend like that.
However, when he glanced down to the bookcase in front of them, he frowned, “Why did you take us here, Lady Sunrider?”
She smiled, “I think you’ve already figured it out, sir Ravenclaw.”
Satine followed his line of sight and noticed the empty space and knelt to reach eye level with the lower corner. “There should be a book there.”
It was true. Every book in the section had been filed in its proper space except one, which left a gaping empty slot conveniently towards the end of the shelf.
“Alphabetically, it easily could have been about Zillo Beasts.” He reported after scanning his eyes across the surrounding titles.
“Which means that someone within the castle was investigating them prior to this incident.” Satine finished.
They stared at each other in wide-eyed concern. If they were correct, it proposed the insinuation that someone at Hogwarts brought this Zillo Beast to the school.
“Oh, we really need to find a professor.” Obi-Wan said. And while it went unsaid, who he actually meant was Qui-Gon, because he knew he could trust the man with his life, which was exactly what this occasion required. Anyone else, it seemed, could have been a suspect of all this.
***
“Okay, I think you can stop now!” Anakin yelled as the beast veered them all over the place, occasionally taking to the night sky and offering what otherwise, would have been a lovely view of Hogwarts and the black lake. Trouble was, this beast was presently rocking against Ravenclaw tower and shaking it senselessly.
“I hope Obi-Wan’s okay.” He muttered and tried to further his grip on the creature to keep himself from falling off.
This was proving increasingly difficult as his mode of transportation only became increasingly sporadic. The beast didn’t have wings, thankfully, but was enormous in stature and climbed with ease up the towers, digging its talons into the stone as though it was made of clay. The third arm, which Anakin hadn’t taken notice of when they were in captivity, kept swinging around, trying to get a grasp on him.
Its red eyes were trained forward in determination and used his tail to knock the roof clean off the astronomy tower.
“Seriously, I think you made your point!” He said and clenched tighter. He used whatever nails weren’t gnawed off from bad habit, and stuck them as deep as they could go into the squishy skin beneath the hard plates. This earned him a wild jerk up and down, slamming Anakin’s body hard and almost losing his footing on the spikes.
“Sorry, sorry! Do what you want!” He added hastily.
It took a large leap that felt a little bit like flying and landed hard against the roof that housed the Great Hall and slithered across like it was no big deal, leaving damage in its wake. Anakin just did his best to focus on not throwing up and couldn’t help the high-pitched scream he released when the beast decided it was a good idea to free-fall down to the courtyard.
It bashed its head through the doorway, officially breaking way to the interior of Hogwarts.
***
Cody, despite having not elected to becoming a prefect, assembled the boy’s Gryffindor dorm in record-breaking time. It helped that three of its occupants were his little brothers, who were used to Cody’s drill-sergeant act in the summer when he woke them up for Quidditch games before sunrise.
“Cody!” Rex called, voice quivering with panic. “Anakin’s not here!”
“What do you mean he’s not here?” He rushed over to Skywalker’s bunk and noted that the sheets were still pressed from whatever spell had done it the morning before and the bed was cool. Sure enough, his backpack was also missing from its usual residence beside his bed.
“Has anyone seen Skywalker?” He asked loudly to the rest of the boys, who all turned and looked at one another before shaking their heads in confusion. How far could one little first year boy get? Considering this was Anakin Skywalker, who had already built a bit of a reputation for himself as mischievous, very far.
“Krell, we’re down a man.” He walked over to the prefect, who was in the middle of his own role call.
“I haven’t gotten that far on my list yet, Fett. If you don’t mind-” He continued.
Cody grabbed him by the shoulders, consequences be damned, and pressed him against the bar of the bunk behind him, “Some ravenous beast is taking over the school and you don’t even care that a kid’s gone missing?”
Regardless of his negative feelings towards Krell, he was willing to put them aside in a moment of strife. Krell, upon noticing that Cody remotely cared about the kid missing, seemed to not hold that same level of professionalism or humanity. He should have known better than to assume anything more from the slimy weasel.
“Watch it, Fett.” He said around the ghost of a smile, “Wouldn’t want to make any hasty movements there.”
“And you call yourself a Gryffindor.” He said and shoved him away.
“I never said I didn’t care, but there’s a protocol to be followed here. I’m not going to go running off and get myself killed when statistically, I’d be more useful here and rest assured, I will fight to the death if need be. Better to sacrifice one than to lose all.”
“Well, you better put two down on your missing list, because I’m going after him.” Cody said and when Rex began to follow, he pointed a finger at his little brother. “Don’t you even think about it.”
“But-” He looked back at him, panic-stricken, but either Fives or Echo placed firm hands on his shoulders both to comfort and keep him in place.
***
Obi-Wan and Satine rounded the halls, being careful to jump over broken glass and splintered wood. Above them, the night sky was showcased due to the shattered pieces of the ceiling. The rain seemed to be slowing down, which was a relief, because a flood was the last thing the school needed at the moment.
They were both relieved to find they hadn’t stumbled across any students that were lost or left behind, but were more concerned to note that the professors seemed to be completely missing in action.
“Maybe, they’re already tending to the problem?” Satine suggested as she kept up her stride beside him. A deafening blast beside them caused him to pull her close by the hand so they were burrowed in a tight corner. What looked to be a tail with large spikes on the end had broken through the wall across from them. Satine had just been standing there a few seconds before and that thought more than anything startled him.
They stayed still and silent and watched, trying not to indicate that there was possible food for the beast to enjoy. Their breaths intermingled as they kept their eyes burned to the vacant spot. Time seemed to drag impossibly long and it felt like this would never pass. Finally, the tail slipped away and the beast continued its rampage elsewhere in the building. While this wasn’t necessarily a comforting thought, it did allow the hammering in Obi-Wan’s ears to slow down a little bit.
“That was close.” Satine finally said around a heavy breath. They remained paralyzed where they were for good measure until enough time seemed to pass.
“We’ve got to find that book. Maybe there’s a way on how to defeat it inside.” He said.
What was crystal clear was that someone didn’t want them to have that level of accessibility on hand.
“I agree.” She nodded and then, remembering herself, slowly looked down at their joined hands, “Um-”
“Oh, terribly sorry!” He quickly retracted and cleared his throat, “Shall we continue?”
She took the lead and raced ahead. From then going forward, they remained closer to the interior wall as they ran risk of another outside blow coming inwards. The closest office would have been, in theory, Professor Windu’s, so they tried there first. He was easily the best at aggressive spells, even if this was likely more of Professor Dooku’s expertise.
“His door is locked.” Satine reported.
“And something tells me a simple unlocking spell isn’t going to do the trick.” He said around an exasperated sigh. She still tried every spell she could think of to no quantifying results. Beside him, was a window and he tried his best to see through the rain to get any sort of glimpse at the Zillo Beast. Instead, all he could see was rain.
“Come on, let’s try Dooku’s office.” She said and they turned on their heels to run but once they gained any real momentum, Obi-Wan found himself smacking into a solid object when circling another corner.
Instinctively, he stuck his wand out, but met a set of focused and familiar eyes.
“Cody?” He asked.
“What in the heavens are you doing?” Satine asked, clutching her chest.
“And why are you in your underwear?” Obi-Wan asked and used his wand to point to the fact that Cody was running around the castle in nothing more than a pair of red plaid boxers and a white sleeveless shirt. The boy wasn’t even wearing socks and didn’t look as though he was the least bothered by it.
“I don’t think you’ve got much room to talk when it comes to current wardrobe, mate.” Cody snickered.
“He’s got you there.” Satine added.
He clambered to his feet and whirled around to face her, face glowing once again, “He’s in his underwear! Are you kidding me?”
“You would think.” She said and nodded at Cody, who was still stifling his own laughter, “But Cody doesn’t get embarrassed and you still look like you are the reigning champion of an ugly pajama contest.”
“I guess it’s better than that nightgown you wore first year when you slept over my house that one-” Cody started, but Obi-Wan punched him in the arm, which only seemed to instigate his half-naked friend’s laughter.
“You promised never to speak of that again!” He complained.
“You wore a nightgown?” She delved into laughter yet again.
“Oh, it had a buttflap just like this one.” Cody said as he turned around Obi-Wan, who placed his rear against the wall instantly. “And a matching cap!”
The two continued their little fit, which could have gone on for much longer than appropriate and in spite of the fact that Obi-Wan was presently contemplating setting himself on fire, he knew they needed to get to safety.
“Can we- Can we please get on track? Bloodthirsty Zillo Beast, remember?”
“Mhmm,” She giggled into her hand before clearing her throat, “Yes, uh- what are you doing out here, Cody?”
As soon as Cody was redirected again, his expression darkened. “You’d think my prefect would be out here on the front lines, but I think the sorting hat might have been in need of some patchwork when Krell was assigned Gryffindor house.”
“So, what? Are you planning on taking down the Zillo Beast in your boxers?”
“Not as ridiculous as being dressed as a clown,” He smirked and then straightened, “But you’re not going to like the sound of this.”
“I haven’t liked the sound of anything tonight.” Obi-Wan grumbled.
“Yeah, well, you’re really going to hate this, but… Skywalker’s missing.”
***
When Tyranus awoke from his state of unconsciousness, he was alone and beneath a layer of dust and debris. Despite his aching body, he rose to his feet and gazed upwards towards a soft draft. He was surprised to find himself alone, or at least, to see that there was no human carnage left behind. The offering table was still dry and fresh of blood, nor had the sword been removed from the center. Only the artifacts had experienced the beast’s true rath.
Aside from the gaping hole in the ceiling of the once sacred Sith temple, there was no sign of the boy or the beast.
“This is all wrong.” He whispered and clenched his fist tightly.
The prophecy foretold differently and Tyranus had dedicated much of his time to relentlessly examining prophecies that many wizards looked over as folk tales. If what his master said was true, and this boy was to be the sacrificial lamb necessary to enact their quest of domination, tonight was meant to be his descent.
Of course, prophecies had many different meanings and the future was ever fickle. Perhaps, he’d taken it too literally or not literally enough.
After the fullest Hallows Eve,
The dark beast shall rise as he descends,
And claim her sacrifice to achieve,
A conflict without mends.
Was his master incorrect about the boy? Tyranus had been suspicious that such revered power could present in a child, but every powerful wizard had to start somewhere. Had that been the case, the Zillo Beast never should have had the strength to escape in the first place.
He stroked his beard, contemplating this only for a moment longer before allowing his eyes to drift over to the fallen statue of Plaguesis, the wise. His head had been crushed to a point of near unrecognition, but still looked fearsome. They all had their part to play in the creation of a greater power and Plaguesis’ had been to relay his exuberant knowledge to the next generation. He had met such a dastardly end by the hand of his own apprentice, but despite his wisdom, had been a fool for playing his entire hand.
Tyranus twisted the ring around his finger- the one with his family’s crest set onto the garnet stone and thought on this. His master would never make such a mistake with Tyranus- creating just enough space of dependency between them to necessitate his existence.
There was never a plan he knew the entirety of until the end result. The smallest of details could change an arrangement, after all. Even right now, as he literally stood in the darkness and was surrounded by a destruction of the past while the Zillo Beast’s shrieks echoed in the distance, a new possibility unforeseen arose in front of him.
Perhaps, the boy was not the true sacrifice after all.
***
As a former Auror, Mace Windu had been exposed to his fair share of darkness both within himself and the outside world. He’d faced fates worse than death on a daily basis at one point in his life. It was part (but not the entire) reason he’d decided to switch to a career of teaching. Headmaster Yoda welcomed him with open arms and had encouraged this career change, stating that they would need a higher level of security at Hogwarts for the coming years anyway. At the time, Mace had been young and not quite sure what to make of that statement, but after teaching at Hogwarts for over twenty years, he finally understood.
He’d been a former student himself- Gryffindor’s prefect, Quidditch captain, and eventual Head Boy of his year and he never remembered encountering evil during his school days. There was always going to be the occasional accidental mangling by a creature in the forbidden forest or a student that played around with magic the wrong way. It came with the territory of their world and while unfortunate, was not evil.
In the past few months, a change occurred in the belly of the school. The ghosts seemed either uncharacteristically jubilant or horrified, depending on their outlook on the living. As much as he hated to admit Qui-Gon was right, the dark mark had tinged the sky after the tragic burning of a muggle-born house in June.
There were mysterious noises that even Yoda had never heard before and they only seemed to occur at the darkest point of the night. Tonight, of course, was no different. No one could seem to identify where they came from and the established taskforce of Mace Windu, Count Dooku, Qui-Gon Jinn, Shaak Ti, and Sheev Palpatine always rotated where they looked and reported to Yoda.
And now, there was a gigantic monster enrapturing all of Hogwarts. The first priority was ensuring the safety of his and the other house’s students. He hoped with everything in him that his prefects justified his choice. He went outside to the Quidditch pitches, and through the tunnels until he was in the locker room, relieved to see his three sets of prefects calling off roll to a large group of tired students. However, he knew from a second head count that two students were absent.
“Who’s missing?” He demanded.
Krell frowned and looked to his checklist, “Anakin Skywalker and Cody Fett.”
Two indiscretions in one evening was rare for anyone, let alone someone with as much to lose as Cody Fett.
“He went to look for Anakin!” Rex called from where he was situated between his two other brothers and by the looks of it, held down from searching for himself.
“What would you like us to do?” Krell asked, wand at the ready to charge into battle. The other prefects looked just as set to act. Mace admired their bravery, but it was not what they needed right now.
“I want you to stay put.” He said to everyone. “I’m setting a series of protective charms onto this locker room as well as the girl’s locker room. I believe Hufflepuff has congregated there. Should you leave, you won’t be able to get in without my wand.”
“Makes sense since they play like a bunch of-” Fives began to joke, but was silently cut off by the rightfully lethal glare of Padm é Amidala.
“-Good players.” He finished instead and Echo snickered. “Shut-up, Echo.”
“I’d hardly call this a time for jest.” Krell said pointedly and looked to Mace again, “Trust that we will protect these quarters with our lives.”
“I should hope it won’t come to that.” He responded with a nod before turning back to the black night. As he exited and completed the necessary charms, he met Qui-Gon, Dooku, Shaak-Ti, and Yoda in the center of the pitch.
“I have two students missing.” He said, “Skywalker and a Fett.”
“I just returned from Slytherin’s chambers where Ravenclaw has gathered. I also have two students missing.” Dooku stroked his white beard, much calmer than Mace could ever be in this situation, “Kryze and Kenobi. Evidently, they went to look for stragglers and never returned.”
“We must make finding them our top priority.” Qui-Gon said, concern written all over his features.
“I concur.” Dooku placed a reassuring hand on Qui-Gon’s shoulder. “Truly, I do, but that could be futile if this beast sets the entire school ablaze.”
“What even is that beast, Headmaster?” Shaak Ti asked the question they’d all clearly wanted to.
“An ancient beast, it is.” Yoda said gravely. “Ancient magic, it will require.”
Unfortunately, they didn’t have anything like that on hand. Still, something in Qui-Gon seemed to stiffen as he shared a knowing look with Yoda. Mace tried to prevent the rise of envy that fought way, and instead practiced a calming routine he’d instilled whenever such ugly feelings tried to take hold of him. Yoda and Qui-Gon, despite the ladder being the only member of the taskforce without any true authority, had a bond, regardless of their varying disagreements. The largest agreement, of course, was the belief that all of this could be related to prophecy.
Mace had a difficult time believing that everything that would ever happen was written and predicted by the ancients that knew little of what they were doing, not even sure how to perform a simple fire-setting spell. However, he did try and pay attention when he was privy to these conversations. And this night, was awfully coincidental, if not prophetic.
“Missing, Palpatine also is.” Yoda cut into his thoughts.
“We must find him and the children.” Shaak Ti said. “Buildings can be rebuilt, but bodies cannot be spared from death.”
“Take to the perimeter we must. Capture this beast, we will.”
“Is there no way to kill it, Headmaster?” Dooku asked.
“Not us.” Qui-Gon answered for him.
***
“Anakin?” A kind and concerned voice called.
He popped his head up from where he’d been tucked against a jagged scale and noticed for the first time that the beast had halted, though it felt as though it was vibrating beneath him. A glowing blue aura surrounded him and through a film of this bright light, he could see the silhouette of Professor Palpatine, who had his hand outstretched. His dark blue eyes almost looked black in contrast to his pale skin. His white hair was slicked flat against his head. His robes were much more elegant and traditional than what Palpatine typically wore to teach his class. If he weren’t so relieved to see him, he might have been intimidated by the look.
“Professor!” He beamed and then looked down to the beast, “How are you doing that?”
“I should be asking you the same thing.” He jested wearily, “Climb off.”
He did as he was told immediately and at first thought he might throw up from all the whiplash he’d endured, but while also subduing the beast with one hand, Palpatine reached out and steadied him with the other. Though he wouldn’t admit it later, he did cower a bit behind the old man before daring to peak out at the beast that caused sufficient damage to the school.
While still, its eyes burned with red fury and it wasn’t directed at Anakin but at Palpatine.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Palpatine said quietly and patted Anakin on the head, “Never forget, that everything has its weaknesses. Even this creature.”
“Are you hurting it?” He whispered.
Palpatine quirked an eyebrow at Anakin curiously, “Of course not. This is merely freezing it in motion. I am not powerful enough to take down a beast like this.”
Upon closer inspection, Anakin confirmed this to be true. Even the snarl of its teeth seemed to be caught in a chomping motion. What it planned to do with those teeth, made him shiver. Its hatred and delivery of attack was clear and yet Palpatine didn’t hesitate to act against it.
“What is it?” He asked.
“This, my dear boy, is an ancient being called the Zillo Beast. It is notorious for hunting and mutilating wizards in ancient times. They were believed to be ridden of this earth by a famous wizard named Revan.”
And here Anakin believed it to be a friend. He internally cursed.
“Sir, I have to be honest with you.” He trembled and felt a swell of guilt overcome him, “I-I’m the one who-”
However, within the aura of enchantment, Anakin saw that vibrating that he felt beneath his touch a mere moment before turning into a full blown tremble and before he could comment on it, the beast broke the spell like shattered glass. The loudest and hottest burst of hot air expelled them backwards and the beast craned its neck to hover over an unconscious Palpatine, seeming to revel in the moment of conquest and Anakin knew, for the second time that night, what evil truly felt like.
And it was all his fault.
***
“So, you two think that one of the professors unleashed that thing?” Cody asked as they ran, strides intensifying even as the sounds of damage seemed to localize in the distance. He was the superior runner by a longshot, but kept his pace in line with theirs. Satine always appreciated that about him, even if it was a little foolhardy to go running about clad only in underwear.
“Unless it was a very advanced student, yes.” Obi-Wan returned, also not quite out of breath from all the incessant running. Satine decided then and there that she could benefit from more exercise.
“All because some book was missing?” He asked.
“It’s a little too coincidental, wouldn’t you say?” She countered as they avoided a coat of arms that was currently scattered across the ground in their path. “It’s not like ghosts or poltergeists can check out library books.”
“And students require permission to access the section.” Obi-Wan said.
“Remember when you said a little reading wouldn’t kill me?” Cody retorted, “Boy, were you two wrong about that, huh?”
“The book likely carries the information on how to stop it so no, we are not wrong.” Obi-Wan said, but his snarkiness wavered when they turned a bend- his gaze straightforward with concern, “I can’t believe Anakin never returned to bed last night.”
“We’ll find him.” She promised with as much sincerity as she could allow, but this proved difficult as she hopped over a fallen bookshelf in her way. “For all we know, he could have just snuck out to snatch sweets.”
Though when she caught Cody’s eye, both had their suspicions that not only was Anakin involved in all of this somehow, but was likely in danger. Neither was about to voice these thoughts to Obi-Wan, who took his responsibility as mentor very seriously on top of his equally serious prefect status. She didn’t know what she would do if it was Viz somewhere lost in the fold of chaos.
“Any leads on the professor?” Cody asked and really, she wished they could stop talking while they were sprinting.
“Yes, we’ve just been dripping with success on the case since we’ve been running for our lives.” Satine said tartly.
“Well, excuse me,” He huffed, “Just trying to collaborate.”
“You know how Satine is when she doesn’t get her proper sleep.” Obi-Wan said and by God, if they weren’t running in ardent determination to find Obi-Wan’s missing mentee from a bloodthirsty monster, she would have tripped him.
She didn’t have time to conjure up a comeback to his remark, because she stuck an arm out to stop them both in their tracks when something through the gaping hole beside them caught her gaze. Cody followed suit and halted a few meters ahead of them before moving back in confusion. She didn’t take her eyes off the distance, though, and for very good reason.
Clinging to the side of the astronomy tower, was the Zillo Beast in full form.
***
Qui-Gon and Dooku rounded the stairs up the shaking astronomy tower, not entirely certain of whether or not it could withstand the tension caused by the Zillo Beast, but determined all the more. Despite his age, Dooku took every other step with graceful and unparalleled ease that rivaled Qui-Gon’s own footwork. It was part of why he respected him so and aimed to mirror his collectivity. Even still, they had their differences. Qui-Gon, for instance, was finding it very difficult not to worry for the missing children, with Anakin in particular being the most concerning.
Dooku had always been more reserved with how he demonstrated care, but after spending decades working together and before that being taught by Dooku, Qui-Gon could read these tells efficiently. His steps were heavy and his eyes were clear with purpose. His friend and former mentor meant nothing but business, but his heart was every bit as involved as his mind.
“If you taught him well, he will keep Skywalker safe.” He said when they reached the top of the stairs.
They pushed through the entrance to find a stand-off of sorts. Palpatine lay unconscious and helpless against a stone pillar while young Anakin Skywalker tearfully pointed his quivering wand at the beast, which surprisingly made no moves to attack him. It was as though they were communicating only in their minds. It was unlike anything Qui-Gon had ever seen before, though he’d never witnessed a Zillo Beast in the flesh and never assumed he would given it was supposed to be extinct.
“Anakin!” He called, who broke his gaze with the creature and looked to them with fear in his eyes.
“Don’t come any closer!” He yelled. “It- It’s all my fault!”
Dooku pointed his wand purposefully at the Zillo Beast, but spoke calmly to Anakin, “It’s alright, come here and we can discuss it at a later time.”
The Zillo Beast was enraged at its company, screeching and turning to Dooku with a newfound disrespect, propelling itself forward. Had Qui-Gon not been quick enough to yank them both out of the way, they both would have been crushed.
“Stop it!” Anakin cried, “Don’t hurt them!”
It didn’t seem too keen on listening to his instructions, despite the obvious connection between the two of them, and instead snapped its razor-sharp teeth at them. Qui-Gon tried just about every attack and defense spell in the book, but to no avail. Even as Dooku parried and dodged the creature’s large head, it was obvious they could not maintain this dance any longer.
They would not be able to kill this thing.
“Professors!” Obi-Wan called and Qui-Gon’s and the Zillo Beast’s attention was briefly diverted to three fifth years that came bounding up the steps all dressed in pajamas. Neither had the time to be relieved to see any of them, because their dance with the beast only continued, which shook the structure of the astronomy tower so much that Qui-Gon was certain it would collapse.
“Beneath the armor, we can beat it.” Dooku said with a firm grip of his wand.
Anakin, plagued by a guilt that Qui-Gon couldn’t understand, as well as more gumption than he’d seen in grown warriors, leapt from the balcony and onto the back of the Zillo Beast. While the small boy didn’t weigh it down in the slightest, it still shook its head relentlessly to try and fling him off. However, Anakin stabbed his wand deep somewhere and the beast raged on with a scream that nearly deafened all of them.
Obi-Wan and Satine were helping him to his feet before he could have the presence of mind to do so. He was far too busy collecting his thoughts on just how they might escape this night alive rather than tucked six feet under. By the way Dooku’s dark eyes lit up at Anakin’s brashness, he’d drawn the same conclusion.
Qui-Gon stopped Obi-Wan from rushing to the railing to ensure Anakin’s safety. He understood the need to do that, because Qui-Gon was fighting every instinct within him too. “I’m glad you lot are here, because we’re going to need all the power we can get.”
Obi-Wan nodded numbly, all too good at tucking away his emotions in the blink of an eye. Cody and Satine, on the other hand, appeared much more distraught, yet both had their wands at the ready. Even Cody, who given his lack of clothing, wouldn’t have had anywhere to put it.
“Lift the skin, Anakin!” Dooku called.
“What?”
“Lift the rough scales!” He repeated, voice much louder and clearer than Qui-Gon’s could ever hope to be.
“Oh! I’ll try sir, whoa!” He almost slipped and Qui-Gon could sense Obi-Wan’s flinch from beside him. Truthfully, his own heart was in his throat, but he’d never let that show.
After a few more crucial seconds of being tossed around and trying to get his hold on the beast’s scales, Anakin finally leaned back and pulled, leaving just enough of a crevice for a shot to sneak through. Whose it would be, was unknown.
“STUPEFY!” Qui-Gon led the onslaught of attacks and given the vast range of motion exhibited by the scorned Zillo Beast, most of their shots missed horribly, but he felt himself curse everytime they got closer. Dooku was the best shot and didn’t need to say the spell to expel his point. He waved his wand elegantly and efficiently with a swift flick of the wrist. To Qui-Gon’s left, the students were much less practiced than his esteemed mentor, but quicker due to their outstanding youth and resilience. Obi-Wan, in particular, was the crackshot and managed to land the piercing shot. The Zillo Beast wavered, eyes fighting the spell before its head came crashing down against the stone and launched all of them a meter or two in the air.
Unfortunately, one of Cody’s shots got Anakin when the beast unexpectedly stilled, causing him to instantly roll backwards and towards the ground below them. Qui-Gon was quick enough to catch him midair before the children could so much as scream in response, keeping his wand outstretched while Dooku inspected and made sure the Zillo Beast was incapacitated.
“Keep stupefying it.” He said.
“Yes, sir.” Dooku said with the barest hints of a smile hiding behind his white beard. It was the most he or anyone would ever get from the consistently serious man. Qui-Gon learned to take what he could get.
Obi-Wan rushed forward to meet Anakin’s floating unconscious body and reached out to pull him onto the broken ground. His head fell into his lap and revealed that aside from catching the backend of a spell, he was virtually unscathed.
“It’ll be almost like a terrible dream.” Qui-Gon assured him, “Though I’m pleased to see you’ve taken to caring for the boy.”
“Well, I’d hate to see what kind of grade I’d receive as a mentor if he was swallowed whole by an ancient beast.” He teased, though the twinkle in his eyes confirmed what Qui-Gon had suspected. Yes, a bond had been established between the two of them.
“Not as worse of a grade as you would if you dare to wear those to class.” Qui-Gon said in reference to Obi-Wan’s pajamas, “What are you wearing, son?”
The boy’s jaw dropped and Cody tilted his head back in a laughter that shattered any remaining tension from the room.
“Professor Palpatine is coming to.” Satine reported as she knelt beside Obi-Wan to take her own look at Anakin, the hints of a teasing smile clung to her lips when she met Obi-Wan’s flustered gaze. She said nothing on the matter and evidently did not need to. Qui-Gon suspected she might have already brought Obi-Wan’s questionable fashion choice to his attention. “Though he should probably see medical. That is… If medical is still standing?”
“Quite the question, Ms. Kryze.” Qui-Gon smiled, “I’m sure Madame Nema is proficient enough to tack on band aids without a facility.”
“Sorry I zapped your kid, Kenobi.” Cody said sheepishly. “Though honestly, this is the most peaceful I’ve ever seen him.”
They chuckled at that and Qui-Gon leaned down to scoop Anakin up, ready to carry him back to the common rooms that were hopefully still intact. Otherwise, a nice cot would have to suffice for the boy.
“We would not have survived this night without him.” He said thoughtfully, “It took true bravery to do what he did.”
“That may be so, Professor, but why did he need to do it at all is the true question.” Obi-Wan said, “Why did this happen?”
Qui-Gon shared a look with Dooku, who was repeatedly stupefying the Zillo Beast with caution and reverence. It was difficult not to admire a relic of another time, especially when there was so much they could learn from it. The bitterness in Dooku’s eyes reflected more on the destruction or possible loss of life that occurred at its hand, of course, but Qui-Gon could only think of what this all meant in the long run.
He was relieved they all got to walk away, but it pondered several queries on Obi-Wan’s very question. While Qui-Gon didn’t know that this, in particular, would happen, it seemed inevitable in hindsight that something of this nature would. And all of it seemed to surround the boy that slept in his arms.
Cody helped a limping Professor Palpatine down the stairs. The older man turned to him wryly.
“Perhaps, you are right about that boy there, Professor Jinn. He is no doubt special.”
That was what Qui-Gon was afraid of.
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Title: hiraeth
Author: @slickandsolangelic
For: @usernamefieldhere
Rating/Warnings: T (warning for existentialism and disassociation)
Prompt: Hinata dealing with the consequences of having Kamukura as a past self, au or canon
Author’s notes: I hope this is to your liking, and I hope it’s okay that the au I picked is dnd-esque fantasy! I had lots of fun with this, and I can only hope that you do, too ^^
The Isles of Jabberwock are oft a pleasant place to be in, their sand a fine gold that lets itself be swept away by the lapping currents from the crystalline blue ocean that surrounds them. Better yet is the sun there, bearing down on them with its golden rays, easing flowerings into bloom and saplings into growth. Hinata is very, very glad that they managed to rescue it from being leveled down by those ambitious bandits from the east.
An adventuring life was unpredictable at its core, but unusually gratifying after a job well done.
Which is to say, it feels really fucking good to beat up some bad guys and get money for it, but such a thought is embarrassingly self indulgent and thus will remain at the very back of Hinata’s mind, where it belongs.
Nanami looks up from the weapon she’s examining. It’s a medium sized spear with a silver tip. She seems to weigh it in her hands for a bit, before letting out a satisfied hum.
“Komaeda-kun, would this be good to use if you ever wear yourself out using your magic?”
“Oh, Nanami-san, that’s really kind of you to think of me,” Komaeda starts to say, looking up from the item he was examining, a small flute embroidered with bronze trimmings. “But I’ve never really been good with sharp things. And as I’m already worn out, I’m afraid I might just point it the wrong way and, as per chance’s design. Being impaled sounds like it’d be inconvenient for our party!”
“Yeah,” Hinata says solemnly, because he’s traveled with Komaeda long enough to know that this is entirely possible.
“Yeah,” Nanami says, and she puts the spear back.
“I like this,” Hinata says. He raises both his hands to show them them silk pouch nestled in his palms. “It’s magical, so you can put up to three hundred pounds of stuff in there.”
Komaeda is at his side then, gliding past the tables laden with strings and wooden instruments. His arm brushes Hinata’s when he reaches from the small card attached to the golden thread around the pouch’s hem.
“It’s also worth five hundred gold pieces,” Komaeda says.
“Oh,” Hinata says.
“Oh,” Nanami agrees.
“If Hinata-kun really wants it, I can-” but Hinata is already putting it back.
They wind up circling the aisles of items for a few more hours, the other two interjecting with commentary when one makes a suggestion. It’s more comfortable than anything, Hinata muses, surfing through their options with one another together like this. Battles where their competence and trust in one another made the difference between loss and success, between life and death; that’s something that’s undeniably special. Something that matters, in a way, and Hinata knows that, and he is grateful- but he much prefers the quieter moments like these, when all that matters in the moment is their group effort at bargaining with the shopkeepers, the sunset’s rays framing their silhouettes as they journeyed through the winding paths of towns they’d saved or served.
There’s something he’s come to appreciate about their regular time spent together as friends rather than adventuring companions. It’s more bothersome than jarring (in a way that makes Hinata feel equal measures irritated and fond) when Komaeda answers a yes or no question with a tangent which existentially questions the universe and when Nanami turns out to have been asleep with her eyes open for the past hour they were going over plans.
It’s nice, Hinata thinks. It’s just… nice, to have moments of quiet in between. Away from threats to their life during the day, and away from his night terrors when it grows darker.
The Isles don’t really have much to offer aside from scenery and impressive craftsmanship when it comes down to it. They have a good time crossing the bridges that lead up to the separate islands, though (it doesn’t take them that long to haul Komaeda out from the water when he falls off one), and the locals aren’t unpleasant folk to converse with.
The third island has a slightly less relaxing ambiance than the others. Of the six, it’s certainly the loudest and most vibrant of the bunch– Komaeda almost immediately identifies it as the art venue when they pass by a Bard-run tavern by the name of “Titty Typhoon”. It sounds like hell in there, but hell in fifty different types of musical instruments and also wildly out of tune.
“Well,” Komaeda says, looking cheerful. “They’re having fun.” His hands are clasped together, and his eyes are widened in something that’s either wonder or contemplation. Hinata’s learnt to recognize when Komaeda begins to form overly complex thoughts over things that really aren’t that deep, but he chooses not to intervene.
“Very loudly,” Hinata says.
“And out of tune,” Nanami adds, but she’s smiling.
“Everyone’s Bardic inspiration manifests in different forms.”
“Yeah, well, it also helps when it manages to inspire without being a Bardic pain in the ass.”
“Hinata-kun speaks very boldly! Well, I guess I can’t really blame you for not finding that kind of music to your fancy, not when your own bardic prowess is unique in a way that’s unrecognizable to most regular people such as myself.”
“That was months ago, holy shit-”
“The sweet melody still haunts my dreams.”
“You’re horrible.”
“You’re the most inspiring artist a commoner like me has ever had the pleasure of hearing.”
Hinata’s shoving him now, trying to stifle a smile behind the sleeves of his leather armour plating, and failing quite spectacularly.
“Asshole,” Hinata says, but there’s no bite to it. Komaeda gives him a smile that’s a different kind of unsettling, only because it makes his insides turn funny. It’s wide, but soft around the edges, and it makes his eyes crease ever so slightly. Then he looks away, and that’s that.
.
Hinata hasn’t slept in what feels like three fucking days.
In reality, it’s only been about two and a half- the other half he spent goofing around with Komaeda and Nanami in the Isles of Jabberwock, hooking up their party with new shit for the next challenge.
This is bad. With the map of the nearby continent spread out before him on the scratched and damaged inn table, he should be getting in the mood to mark their next exploit. It’s a pretty good map, even if the dim yellow glow emanating from their lamps doesn’t do its details much justice.The sharp strokes that form the peaks of mountains are unmistakable nearby the expertly woven lines of rivers and streams, cutting through grassy landscapes and flat wastelands. There are circles and lines which mark territories and label them, categorizing them as either off limits or safe to explore.
But with how tired he is, Hinata’s beginning to circle around the same thought over and over. In fact, is that a fucking city, or a firefly? Is that a firefly on his map? Hinata isn’t sure if what’s on his map is a firefly or a city. That circular dot of yellow– is it a firefly, or is it a city?
“You don’t look well,” says a familiar voice. The dot of yellow buzzes and leaps into the air and onto Hinata’s nose. He swings back suddenly in an effort to swat it with both his arms. The momentum drives his chair backwards.
The quiet tavern folk don’t care to stop their chatter when Hinata crashes to the ground with a sound thud, and so the warlock is left to stare at the ceiling with unblinking eyes and his palms cupped around his nose as the minuscule sphere rises and floats away. Nanami’s concerned face hovers above him.
Ah, so it was a firefly.
Their next quest is for a blond wizard hailing from an important family. Hinata thinks he’s kind of an asshole, but Hinata also thinks that five thousand gold is maybe a sufficient price to get a job done for an asshole. He wants them to retrieve this artifact called the “Eye of Fate”, something that apparently reflects a person’s psyche and innermost desires. This is worrisome considering the Asshole Status of the person they’re retrieving it for, but according to the client, the Eye of Fate is trapped within the body of a topaz crystal gollum, a probably slightly more dickish creature to bestow such a relic upon.
Nanami helps pick him up off the ground, but he needs to take a handful of moments to gather his bearings.
“You need to take care of yourself. We won’t be able to get anything done if you neglect your health.”
Hinata thinks this is rich coming from Nanami, who never seems to sleep and yet spends half of the time she’s awake in a state of trance that’s impossible to break her out of. He means to tell her this, but instead the words that come out are “Lord Togami is an asshole.”
“He’s not easy to work with,” Nanami agrees.
“He’s a big fucking asshole.”
“Okay,” Nanami says patiently, sitting him down on the chair.
“I hate rich people who offer lots of money for ridiculous quests.”
“Mhm.”
“Nanami, there was a firefly on my map.”
“Yes,” she says. “Yes, there was.”
“It flew.”
“I think fireflies tend to do that.”
Hinata presses his face against the scratchy surface of the map. He traces a finger along the Mountain Range of the Dead, across the Red River, and straight through the continental tunnel into the cavernous entrance of the Cave of Wonders.
“Yeah,” Hinata mutters. “’S cause of their wings.”
“Sure is.” Nanami puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah,”
“Yeah,” she says, and pets his hair gently. “Go to sleep.”
.
The journey is harsh, but not unbearable.
Through the rocky mountain range they pass, tearing down groups of chimaeras, hopping between camping sights near the valleys. Komaeda picks flowers by one of the crevices, and Hinata feels bad when they wither under his bare hands.
They stop just a clearing away from the bank of Red River for the night. The sun kisses the horizon and turns it a warm shade of purple that lulls Hinata to slumber.
He dreams.
.
Hinata’s by the Red River.
His pants are rolled up to his knees, and the sky above him is as dark as the waters he’s lowered his feet into.They lap at his skin, icy and unforgiving. He pushes closer to the river side, sinks his legs further in until his calves feel numb.
Below the surface of the water, something is stirring. Moving like a shadow through the already dark film that covers the waters, closer than he wants it to be.
A voice says, “Haven’t they told you that this river is red with the blood of the fallen?”
Hinata doesn’t respond. He watches the figure grow closer and closer, a monster baited to the surface. His legs form ripples in the water when he moves them to and fro. He watches the spray of droplets disrupt the dark surface, and tries to hum away the panic in his chest.
“…You’re not listening anymore.”
The darkness is coming. Hinata is not afraid. He’s not afraid. He’s not.
(He’s terrified. He can’t move anymore, can barely breathe. He is helpless in a way that makes him angry at himself, useless in a way that makes him regret its existence.)
“You’re going to have to. It’s irrational to think you can run away forever.” The voice is calm as it says this.
It is nowhere. It is everywhere. It’s the full moon that lights up the stars above his head, the ripples his legs have stopped making in the river, the all encompassing darkness that wants to eat him whole, devour him until nothing is left of his existence.
.
Hinata wakes up with a start. His hands aren’t quite steady. That is to say, he’s shaking bad.
Hinata steps outside for a moment. It’s dark out still, so he snaps his fingers and watches a small flame flicker to life in his lantern. Their tent’s still steady against the breezes coming from the north. (Nanami had done a good job hammering it in right, after all. She’s always been good with practical skills like these, even if her proficiency was healing). The leaves sway high above his head on their host of towering trees, though, and the wind’s whistle is unmistakable and sharp, cutting through the night.
Hinata shudders.The bite of the air is akin to the sting of frost at his knees in the dream.
A hand lands on his shoulder, and he nearly jumps a foot into the air.
“Hinata-kun?”
Oh. It’s Komaeda. Hinata tries to be subtle about the breath of relief that leaves him, but he’s sure he failed. Whatever. God, whatever.
Komaeda retracts his hand. “I’m sorry,” he says with the kind of sincerity only he seems to be capable of. “I called for you before, but you seemed preoccupied.”
“…Ah, yeah.” Hinata tries to go for a smile, but it slips off his face at astronomical velocity. He’s exhausted, tired in a way that makes his bones ache and his heart stutter at every step. “It’s just that…” For a few long moments, he contemplates his next words, painfully aware of the tentative silence between them. Komaeda doesn’t break it, and even though Hinata’s looking away, he can feel the weight of Komaeda’s gaze pressing into the back of his head, sharper than the wind that pierces through the thicket of trees surrounding their campgrounds.
Hinata says, “You’re a bard, right?” Of course Komaeda is, that’s out of the question. When Hinata whips around, he sees the look of tempered confusion Komaeda is giving him. His head is tipped sideways, and his gray eyes blink at Hinata questioningly.
“By the standard definition, I am,” Komaeda says. “Perhaps not entirely deserving of the title, but that is the most conventional term to reference what I do.”
“…Right,” Hinata says. He tries to swallow back the lump that forms in his throat, and finds he can’t do it, just as he can’t quite bring himself to dispel the anxiety eating away at the pit of his stomach. “Yeah, I know. You’re a good bard, Komaeda, we’ve had this talk.”
“And you’re changing the subject, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda responds quietly. He’s still looking at him with those intent eyes. Fuck. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Silence. And then a howl from the wind hollow and loud all at the same time.
“Have you heard of the Ender of The World?”
More silence. And then, a laugh.
“Kamukura Izuru… who hasn’t?”
“So he has a name?”
Komaeda sets his own lantern on the ground, then lowers himself and takes a cross-legged position. Hesitant, Hinata follows suit.
“You didn’t know? They named him after the original Wizard, the one whose discoveries helped incorporate the plane of magic with our own.”
“Ah,” Hinata says. His throat is dry. “I, uh, never looked into it too much. I tried to, well- avoid. That sort of stuff.”
“…I see,” Komaeda says, and there’s an obvious question in his tone. To his credit, he doesn’t ask it.
“Well, Kamukura Izuru… Well, to start, he’s beautiful. I saw him, once.”
Hinata’s heart stops. “You did?”
“I did,” Komaeda says, and smiles. There are no creases under his eyes this time, no softness to the edge of his mouth. Only a wide curve that increases Hinata’s unease. Komaeda’s eyes watch the purple flame in his lantern flicker and sway.
“When I was still travelling alone, I took shelter in a sea-side town. I was still young then, maybe in my mid teen years, and so I was still learning how to get around alone, and still learning how to cope with my abilities. Naturally, no one wanted someone whose magical energy was as unstable and harmful as mine.” Komaeda makes animated hand gestures as he speaks, his voice remaining light and unbothered.
“So I tried not to use any, even when it got cold and I needed a fire, even if I had to defend myself. As soon as they realised their flowers wither around me and the grass their cattle eat from is poisoned by my magic, they’d throw me out. I couldn’t afford to let that happen yet, not when I was in such desperate need of a sustainable place to stay.”
“Komaeda…” Hinata starts to say, a crease forming in his brow. But Komaeda just continues.
“This is why I ended up staying by the port, where there was less organic matter for me to visibly hurt. And then he was there, and the stories? They were true,” Komaeda says. “He was- ah, I’m afraid I’m not nearly eloquent enough, but he was something else. He didn’t hurt anyone then, didn’t turn any cities to dust or erase landscapes with the swipe of his hand, but his existence was like…” He holds up a hand over the lantern, and his eyes are wide enough to hold the entire sky within then. Komaeda clenches his fist over the lantern’s glow.
He whispers, “Like fire. It was burning with the demand to be attended to. It was like being charmed, but worse, but better. And where he floated, Hinata-kun? It was over the sea, which had begun to turn inky below him. It was like void. Like nothingness was just overcoming the blue, erasing it.” Komaeda’s still smiling. How is he still smiling?
Hinata tries to regulate his breathing, but he feels sick. His head spins with a thousand visions, of tarlike darkness invading crystal blue, of lonely teenagers by ports, of magical essences strong enough to burn themselves into the hearts of spectators.
Hinata’s voice sounds hoarse to his ears when he speaks. “…And? Was he- was he evil?”
Komaeda laughs again. “Evil… Well, I suppose it depends on the standards of one’s morality. I just think he was hideous.”
“Huh?! Didn’t you just say-”
“I meant what I said.” Komaeda says. “He was the wrongest thing in the world, in that moment. Something that wasn’t destined to be. He was beautiful, too, and it had made me feel something. Now, I can identify that feeling as what it is.”
“And what is it?”
Komaeda turns to look at him then, eyes wide still. He closes them for a moment, but the smile doesn’t fade. Komaeda says, “Disgust,” and Hinata feels like he’s been kicked in the ribs.
“Oh. Um, I suppose that makes se-”
“I think he was just empty. I don’t understand how someone can have such power over destiny and be such a shell.” His smile takes a dip, then twitches back into place. It looks wrong, not that it ever really looked right to begin with. It looks… sour.
“People will call Kamukura Izuru beautiful, or they will call him horrible,” Komaeda says. “I just think that he’s like me.”
“Like you?” Hinata’s heart is pounding.
“I don’t mean to sound egoistical,” Komaeda says quickly, holding his hands up, His smile returns to its default vacancy again, “Of course, I could never hope to be as powerful. But Izuru-san and I have something in common.”
There is quiet now, and even the well timed howling of the wind fails to shake Hinata out of his semi-trance state of contemplation. He recognises that Komaeda’s given him an opening to ask. The tension in his gut notwithstanding, he does.
“What is it, then?”
Komaeda hums. His gloved fingers close around the handle of the lantern and pull it up to his face. Illuminated so closely by the glow, Komaeda looks like a flame himself. It’s a haunting kind of beauty that Hinata can’t fully wrap his head around. (His heart aches). He blows his flame out, and just like that, the world grows dimmer. Komaeda stands up, and Hinata wants to reach out and grab at his sleeve, but he’s too tired, and Komaeda’s too swift, and it’s too cold out here, so cold and dark and god, Hinata’s so tired.
“Well, when I looked in his eyes, I could tell. I could tell that he had nowhere to go either.” Through the mist of darkness, Hinata can’t see his features, he can sense it when Komaeda’s gaze leaves him.
He whispers, “Good night, Hinata-kun.”
Then he returns to their tent, and Hinata’s left alone.
.
There is a flash of light.
Pillars of light come together to form a gollum, at least 12 feet tall, its arms made of diamond shards which reflect the yellow light pouring out of the empty holes in its head that make its sockets. The gollum is a beautiful, monstrous thing, its voice caught somewhere between roar and song. It’s a compound of light shards taking the form of rocky limbs and sharp shoulders. Like tears, the light that runs down its head burns into the cavern’s ground, acidic.
They get in order. Hinata raises his wand, and Nanami prepares her wooden staff. The amethysts that stick out of the ground by Komaeda’s feet begin to lose their vibrancy as he puts his flute to his lips.
Hinata casts.
Nanami points.
Komaeda plays.
And the gollum unclasps a dark mouth trapped between jaws of silvery-gold crystals, and showers their attacking silhouettes in stunning light.
.
I.
You are born.
You are a creature! And how alive you are, how real- your hands are small and pale, your hair back length and a light shade of a pretty colour. And you are not clothed, not yet, but you are so alive.
Besides you a person with shaking arms and a trembling form. They say, “O-oh, it worked, it worked,” and they sound like they’re going to cry.
You reach out to them, and you feel concerned.
.
Disorientation. Fear. Hinata’s head is spinning, and he can’t tell his head from his feet, not anymore. The world is nothing but a dull blur of colour, and all he hears is a the quiet hum of the gollum’s voice, a guttural, chilling sound.
And then the next flash of light comes.
.
II.
You are alone. Ash falls between the spaces of your fingers, the remnants of the home you once had. The sky cries for you, but you do not cry. You cannot cry anymore, not when you know they were right all along. Right to abandon you, right to throw a creature of destruction and havoc.
You are disgusted with yourself, with the pulse of energy that crackles like lightning beneath your skin.
Your hands dig into the ashes that were once meadows and gardens and homes, homes you grew up in, homes you weren’t hated for existing in.
You let out a scream that tears your throat in two, and you are heartbroken.
.
He can’t tell if he’s breathing.
He can’t tell if he’s seeing. He can only hear the roar approaching.
But he feels it, too, the third flash of light slamming into him.
.
III.
Magic is difficult.
Magic is unnatural- it’s strange, because for your family, it seems to come as easy as breathing. Generations of wizards have thrived from their line, after all, each with magical energy in the very air they breathe, clear in the way they carry themselves, evident in the gleam in their eyes.
Except for you, that is. You have grown up looking at your hands and hating them. You have grown up with the words of the divination mistress inscribed in your head from when you were but a youth, her raspy voice calm and factual as she tells your parents, This one’s a branch that’s been severed. He’s dry, he is.
And you are. You attempt to cast spells. Nothing happens. You try your hand at passive magic, tries to see if you can work out divination, or magical forgery, or bardic inspiration.
Nothing happens within. Your hands remain plain, pitiable things, empty of even the telltale scorch marks and scar of a beginner magician. There is disappointment in the looks they give you. There’s judgement. There’s torment in their stares, a searing fire that burns away at you in the expectations you know you’ll never be able to fulfill. A tiresome, constant hum of unease.
So plain.
What a shame, that one- think of the potential!
Maybe he’s just a late bloomer?
But you aren’t.
You press your palms to your face and try to feel for a hum of something more that isn’t there, was never there, will never be there.
Until one day, not many days from now, at the hands of a circle of wizards who promise your family prowess, progress, and most importantly magic- it is.
And you feel… nothing.
You don’t feel at all.
.
A flash of light.
.
I.
Your hair is trimmed to your shoulders. You are dressed in a cloak of silver with a green hood, given a staff crafted of rosewood and embroidered with your initials. You are given a name. You are given a purpose.
The person who made you is loving. They are kind. They don’t make you feel like the tool that you are, but you know, and you think it’s okay.
.
And another.
.
II.
You learn that the leaves of plants wither first when you play. And then gradually, so do the stems. The petals are last to go, turning a sorry shade of gray that disintegrates to ashen black the more you continue.
You feel sorry.
.
And yet another.
.
III.
There is more magic in the air than has even been. More horror in your heart than you ever thought possible. They are chanting incantations, murmuring things in languages you can’t recognise, humming in tones you don’t understand, and you are scared, but your want to stop disappointing overwhelms this fear. Your want to be something that surpasses ordinary, something that beats worthless.
So you stay still.
And you drift, further and further away, into a space where you can’t feel your heart and can’t contain your soul.
And for a while, you don’t return. Not really.
Another.
.
I.
You learn that you are a cleric. You learn that your name is Nanami Chiaki, and that you can wield light and speak seven languages and be very, very useful.
You find your place among an adventuring party, and you set off to do your job as a cleanser of despair.
.
When will it stop?
.
II.
You feel smaller than you should, a quiet mass of stark white hair and shaky hands that suck the life out of every unsuspecting thing. But you learn- you learn to sleep in the hollows of large trees.You learn to survive days without fire and food. You learn what you have to do to live, what you have to do to continue, but often you wonder if there’s a purpose at all.
And then you see Kamukura Izuru turn the ocean’s blue into void, and immediately realise what you have to do.
.
Hinata hears what sounds like a thump, but maybe it’s just the dull beat of his heart. Does he still have a heart?
.
III.
It is
So
Dark.
It is so dark , and so quiet, and you are not there, but you are, but the world isn’t, but you are, but you’re dead, but you’re not, but you’re in pain, but he’s not.
And he’s you.
Or you’re him.
Maybe you’re both and he’s neither. She finds you somewhere between existence and death, surrounded by the skeletal remains of the seven wizards that made you what you are.
She examines the circle of black glass and scorch marks that used to be their mountain, and the grin on her face can cut through the fabric of the universe and weave it into something new. She holds out her hand, and says, “Confused, aren’tcha? I think I have something that’ll work for you.”
And before you know it, the world is ending at your hands.
.
There is the sound of something falling multiple times all at once.
.
I.
You love them so much.
You love them so, so much. But you do not, because you weren’t made for this. You don’t know what love is.
Do you?
.
It’s getting closer.
.
II.
You are a being of misdeeds, a creature of filth and ugliness.You are a pawn in the hands of luck and a facilitator of fate. And it’s fine.
It’s fine. You don’t deserve to feel this companionship. You don’t deserve the moments when his eyes meet yours and you feel something akin to hope. It’s selfish. It’s foolish.
It’s fine.
(It’s not.)
.
They are footsteps, Hinata realises distantly at the back of his head, and they fall like hail.
.
III.
You wake up in another circle of black glass. Your head is full of memories that aren’t your own, your back breaking under the weight of sins you earnt. You hands are pale and unscarred and yours, yours, yours, but you don’t know what’s yours anymore, so you dig them into the hard ground until your nails chip and bleed and you’re screaming because the pain is the only thing that makes you feel real.
You don’t know how long you lay there, but when you come to, you can cast flame, you can create light.
And it takes you so, so long, to pick yourself up, to tear away your memories and the bards’ songs of Him, of You.
You are sick of your own existence, but most of all, you’re not sure when you’ll be him again. You’re not sure how long you have as you.
(You’re not sure when you started to think of this in terms of you and him.)
When you find yourself a party, you worry.
When you sleep at night, you worry.
When your companion’s piercing gray greens look at you and tell you, “Good night, Hinata-kun,” you worry.
What’s a sense of self for someone without one at all?
.
Crash!
Splinters of diamond scatter across the cave’s floor, yellow and white and shades of off-orange, shattered, sharp and everywhere.
Komaeda is panting by the now screaming, headless gollum, its guttural screeches now reduced to weak yelps that sound more like windchimes. The splinters that caught him in the face send blood streaking down it, and he’s breathing heavy.
In his right hand Komaeda holds Nanami’s abandoned spear of light, semi-tangible and fading in his grasp. Nanami rises to her feet besides Hinata, only a distance away. Cuts and scrapes line her arms and legs where the crystals caught her, but she is healing faster than any of them can process, and she points her staff at the gollum, lips drawn in a thin line.
When Hinata gets into position besides his companions, his heart thrums with something that’s maybe determination, and that’s definitely the desire to beat this fucking thing to the ground.
Their eyes meet. When Hinata catches Komaeda’s, Komaeda gives him a tired, bloodied smile which he tries to return.
They attack.
.
LEGEND.
There is a legend in the land about a sorcerer. Or at least that’s what they think he is. He’s certainly not human- it’s not clear if he’s much of anything the people of this world can recognize.
He’s like something out of a night terror, spectral and haunting, ethereally beautiful in ways that are hard to encapture. Bards fail to find music befitting of him, and the storytellers, their hands bleed of their efforts to weave tales and tapestries worthy enough. An artist’s maddening, he is, a being of darkness, or maybe light, or maybe divinity.
He razes lands in his wake.
It only takes a flick of his wrist for the grandeur of towering spires, raised peaks and settlements, so many settlements built with caring craftsmanship and loving ambition, to become ash.
There are no scorch marks to tell of despairing fires, no bloodstained marble and cobblestone to tell the tragedy of battles lost. Only the memory of what used to be and the dust that remains of its existence.
Some call him the Destructor. Some call him a God. Most merely call him The Ender of The World.
And he is as beautiful as he is terrifying, the story tellers swear. He doesn’t function on malice, they say. It’s impossible to tell what his motives really are, but he doesn’t thrive off of evil nor off of death. He does not need to thrive, really, not when his very existence is that of raw energy and power, not when he can make himself a living deity on command of his presence.
Others have different stories to tell of him, all with the staples; the beauty, the divinity, the grace. But they speak of different powers- armies of the dead animated for seemingly no reason. Stormy clouds of gray that encircle him, a crown of booming thunder and imminent destruction.
Eyes the colour of rubies, painfully empty despite the ocean’s worth of magical energy they surely have.
The World is ending.
And then it isn’t.
The cities of ash remain as they are, as do the hearts of endless storms continue to beat with the booms of thunder. Every tapestry and abandoned sheet of song remain, but the Ender of the World does not.
.
At the gollum’s husk, Hinata brings down a spectral axe he summons; once her spear of light is back in her hands, Nanami maneuvers close enough to leave a gaping gash of oozing yellow where its abdomen was; Komaeda’s flute plays notes that manifest into spectral hammers which descend upon it, blown after blow. The amethysts around them are now a darkened gray.
With each hit that lands, crystals shatter across the floor.
Soon, all that remains is a gradient of gold in pieces at their feet.
And their prize reward, the gollum’s heart: an ornate circle of the very same gold, its surface clear and reflective like a mirror. The Eye of Fate.
Komaeda collapses on his knees.
He’s making a noise that sounds like giggling, red faced and dizzy, and then he collapses to the side, spent. Hinata isn’t fast enough to catch him, but he tries anyway. Chest still heaving from the effort of battle, he takes the time to brush away the red that bleeds from the wound on Komaeda’s forehead. The amethysts are more like coal now, a tell-tale sign of the energy he’s expended.
Nanami kneels beside him, and she’s not out of breath at all. But she looks just as tired as he feels. All her wounds have closed up. Hinata almost finds it funny- he always thought the reason her wounds were so quick to heal was because she was an extraordinarily healer. While that was true, he now more or less knows that there’s more to it. And she… they both…
Well, they both know now, don’t they? But the panic hasn’t really settled in just yet.
“I’ll get him,” Nanami says, and she nods towards Komaeda. Already her hand is on his chest. “You have to go retrieve the mirror. Hinata-kun, you know what to do with it.”
Hinata nods. Rises to his feet.
He heads towards the Eye of Fate, back turned to Nanami. It feels smooth and light in his hands. The surface reflects his face, bloodied and plain, and it all feels deceptively simple.
Nanami says, “Hinata-kun? I know you’ll make the right decision. I know you’re a good person, and you can make your own path.”
He feels the smile in her voice as strongly as he feels the sting in his eyes.
“Right,” Hinata says softly, and examines the glassy surface.
He throws it to the ground experimentally. It lands quietly without a sound.
And then he crushes it under his fucking feet. Over and over until it breaks apart for good.
Nanami laughs softly from behind him.
Hinata says, “All right, then. Now that that’s over with, let’s go home.”
.
Home isn’t anywhere but the three of them.
The journey back isn’t as tiring as Hinata thought it would be, but it’s every bit as emotionally taxing. He wallows in his anxiety on their trip back, just as he wallows in his thoughts.
He and Nanami don’t speak of it.
And he understand that she needs time, and she understands that he needs courage, or perhaps strength of will. But she smiles at him like he means something still, like he’s more than lost identities and failure and magic that isn’t really his, and he’s grateful. He smiles at her too, a bit less patient, a bit more jaded, but he hopes it lets her know that she means something to him like he does to her.
And then there’s Komaeda.
They’re back at their camp grounds when he finally wakes. The sun’s beginning to rise above the horizon, painting its line a faint white and streaking the blank sky with shades of pale blue and orange.
Nanami’s gone to bring them firewood for later on since they’re all too tired for conjuration. Hinata’s fingers clench and unclench into a fist. He counts the fading stars that are eaten by the sunrise, and wonders if he can still see the faint outline of the moon provided he tries hard enough.
Komaeda sits opposite from him. Neither of them says a word.
The silence is quiet and tangible, and when Hinata looks at Komaeda, really looks at him, he pauses. Komaeda’s fully healed and unscarred but for a nick that the gash on his forehead left, and even that is hardly notable. His hair is even messier than usual, dirtied and gray with dust and dirt from their encounter. His pallor is still prominent, but thankfully, it doesn’t look like he’s about to fall seriously ill.
"Hey,” Hinata says.
Komaeda raises his head to look at him. He’s giving him that look again, a look of uncomfortable intensity that Hinata feels in his bones.
Komaeda say, “Hinata-kun,” by way of greeting, and they fall quiet again.
Hinata looks at his thumbs.They’re shredded from the shrapnel of crystal, scarred in little crisscrosses.
He says to Komaeda, “Well. I mean, god. Let’s- let’s cut right to it. Talk to me.”
And so they start to, the rising sun a backdrop to their conversation.
“You know now,” Hinata says.
“I do.”
“You wanted to find me. Or him. Whatever.”
“I do.”
“You still do?”
He tips his head sideways, and light curls frame his curious expression. Very sincerely, he says, “I do.”
Hinata feels a tightness in his chest.
“You’re weird.”
“You’re a god.”
Hinata gives him an annoyed, incredulous look. Now he knows Komaeda’s messing with him.
He says, “You know I’m not,” and can’t help the edge in his voice.
“Of course I do,” Komaeda says, voice hushed in a way Hinata’s never heard it before. “I felt your thoughts, Hinata-kun. We both did.”
He knows this. And it’s frustrating, infuriating even, to have something like that taken away from you and broadcasted so intimately. Looking at the mess he made of his own fingers, Hinata wishes he hit harder, attacked harsher.
And then he looks at Komaeda, and oh. He sees it now, the tightness around his shoulders, the tension in his frame. The sharpness of his present smile, guarded and ingenuine.
He’s hurting, too.
And god, Hinata’s so selfish. This entire time, his own anxieties have been overwhelming him, and he wasn’t able to realise sooner that his companions have their own plates full to the brim.
Of course. Of course he’d hurt. He’s felt it vividly, Komaeda’s loneliness, his pain, just as he had Nanami’s doubt in her existence, just as tangibly as they felt his own aches.
Hinata reaches towards Komaeda, who tenses like he’s about to flinch away, but… doesn’t. He places a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
And Komaeda says, “I was wrong.”
“Wrong?”
His gaze bores into Hinata. “Wrong to call you beautiful and hideous.”
Hinata puts away his hand. He says, “Then what would you call me?” and feels bold for it. The way Komaeda says ‘you’ instead of 'Kamukura Izuru’ or 'The Ender of the World’ or some other superficial title makes him shiver.
“I would call you hopeful,”
“Uh, what?”
Komaeda puts a hand over his heart. And there it is again, that terrifying earnestness in his eyes.
“Hopeful. You’re not like me, Hinata-kun. Despite everything, you’re still here. You’re still doing good after what she made you do.”
What she made you do. The illusion of guilt, the vision of the perfect monster, it’s gone. It’s all gone.
Hinata is shaking just the slightest bit. His hands aren’t as steady as he thought they’d be in his lap. This is hard.
“But– so are you.”
“So am I what, Hinata-kun?”
“You’re here too, aren’t you?”
Komaeda falls silent.
Hinata can’t quite read his expression right, was never quite able to, but the stunned look of bewilderment that twists his features isn’t hard to note.
“But I- that’s not… That isn’t how it works.” Komaeda argues, a confused frown twisting his mouth.
“Isn’t it?” Hinata is smiling, and as he does, he feels the tremors start to calm.
“It isn’t! Hinata-kun, if you’re as good at drawing conclusions as you are at playing instruments-”
“Stop trying to backhand compliment me, I probably can play if I really try.”
“Backhanded compliments? How rash of Hinata-kun to jump to such a conclusion, I was only trying to speak my mind.”
He flicks Komaeda’s forehead. Komaeda doesn’t make a move to flinch this time.
Hinata dares to push back the hair that falls in front of his eyes, heart beat mingling with the songbirds’ melody. He waits for Komaeda to stop him, but he does not. He rubs his thumb over the small scar on his forehead.
“…You were good out there with Nanami’s spear,” Hinata murmurs. “Maybe you should actually consider buying one.”
“Oh,” Komaeda breathes in response.
Sunlight makes him look even prettier.
It’s quiet here in these woods, and it’s not “home” forever. Nothing will be for a while. But the permanence of home and the worries of tomorrow mean nothing when Hinata sees that smile again. A smile soft around the edges that make his eyes crease, a smile that makes Hinata not want to let go.
“Is this okay?” Komaeda says, and his voice is quiet. His eyes begin to flutter. His gloved hands reach tentative towards the back of Hinata’s neck as he moves to lean into Hinata’s touch. Komaeda’s hands are light, their pressure barely there, like he’s afraid to hurt him.
Hinata says, “It’s okay.”
And when he kisses Komaeda, it feels like the relief of something long awaited. It feels like comfort. It feels like something right. Hinata’s hands reach to cup his face, and oh.
He kisses him again, and again, and again, and everytime Hinata pulls away, he sees that smile and just can’t stop.
They’re going to be okay.
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