The Mentor

AN: Long time since this won its poll. Apologies again for the delays. Life is just in a teeth kicking mood lately where I'm concerned.

Hope you enjoy!

Casting

Morgana Le Fay- Martina Erregue

It was rather odd arriving back in the land now called England after so long away. Whether it was in countries far afield, or the Otherworld, it’d been more than a millennia since she last visited the island. Bitter memories are difficult to cast aside. But certain individuals, and the events around them, drew her interest, and she found herself back where so much happened so very long ago.

Cloaked in black, she walked along a cobbled path with at least a half dozen others. None of them paid her any mind though, they were all too focused on what brought them there to begin with.

She stopped at a gate that opened to a path that led to a nearby cottage. Under normal circumstances, it would’ve been quite the quaint, picturesque residence… if it weren’t for the complete destruction of the western part of the upper floor. Just a few days earlier, Tom Riddle, for that was his name and not the inane one that he chose for himself, attacked the Potter family, killing James and Lily, and dying in his attempts to kill young Harry. Though how exactly anyone is entirely sure of that fact is rather perplexing.

Despite her absence from England, she knew more of the happenings there than nearly anyone else alive. One small advantage of being able to converse with the unseen.

The crowd was there to give their regards to the saviors of magical Britain, something that they certainly deserved, but her interest was more exacting. Her disappearance went unnoticed. There wasn’t even a pop as she disappeared only to reappear in the house.

Splinters from the destruction of the doorway still littered the foyer. Thanks to Tom’s propensity for the Killing Curse, there was no blood, but there was a distinct feeling in the air, the sort that could only be left by truly vile magic. Making her way up the stairs, she made her way to the epicenter of the destruction in the house.

With every step the magic in the air became more potent, to the point where she could almost taste it on her tongue. But it wasn’t just the vileness of Riddle’s magic, no there was something else there, something significantly more potent. Old magic, the sort that very few magicals understood, much less had the ability or courage to perform.

As she arrived in the nursery, it felt tangible to the centuries old witch. More than that, it felt familiar. It was fae magic, altered in some small ways, that could only be performed by someone who shared their magic. It was precisely that detail that finally convinced her to return.

Looking around, she took note of the small broom and the stuffed dog toy left untouched in a toy box in the corner. Did no one think to give the child something from the home that was so unceremoniously ripped away from him?

There were still loose bits of the ceiling threatening to rip away and fall to the floor below. The explosion was accompanied by fire to some degree as the edges of the impact were singed, but the crib, the epicenter of the entire event, remained completely unscathed. A ritual perfectly performed.

Speaking into the silence, she called, “I know you’re here.”

Faint laughter, tinged with melancholy, accompanied the arrival of a fairy, “I knew there was no fooling you, Morgana.”

“It is good to see you, Amren.” Amren was small, though not so small as one of the pixies. Morgana herself wasn’t a particularly tall woman, but Amren was barely half of her height. She wore a dress of perfectly woven leaves, interlaced with bright flowers that would never lose their luster. Her hair was crimson red and shined with its own light, while her eyes were the shade of a perfectly cut emerald.

“You as well.” Amren hopped up so she could sit down on the edge of the toy box, “When did you arrive?”

“Just this morning.” She replied, but didn’t dwell on such banal pleasantries, “It seems the ritual worked.”

“It does.” Despite the success, Amren didn’t sound particularly pleased with the outcome. Given the circumstances, Morgana found it perfectly understandable.

“And their son, who she went through such great trouble to protect, where is he?”

A scowl appeared, one of genuine distaste, “His godfather came first, Sirius Black is his name.” The Blacks were one of the oldest magical families in Britian, old enough that she could remember them from her last time on the island, “He took Harry out of the crib but was stopped before he could leave by a big man, must’ve been half-giant, Hagrid was his name.”

“And what did this Hagrid have to say?”

“That he’d been sent by Albus Dumbledore, that he was meant to take Harry somewhere safe.” Morgana could understand the scowl now, “Sirius reluctantly agreed, but he agreed all the same. Then he had the hairbrained idea to chase after the Potter’s secret keeper and get himself thrown in prison in the process.”

That required a whole host of explanations that would surely come later. At that moment, other matters concerned her far more, “And did you not think to just take him yourself? Before they had the chance to take him to Dumbledore? He could’ve been hidden in the Otherworld.”

That got a quick and rather violent rise out of the fairy, her small hands fisting at her sides, “I arrived too late, same as you for all your offered help.” The anger left her as she deflated, “And we both know I lack the means to overwhelm them on my own.”

She spoke the truth. While gifted with significant power, none of it was martial in nature. Amren was one of the leannán sídhe. Beautiful muses that took human lovers whose lives, unfortunately, often though not always, proved to be fleeting. Morgana’s own ties to the fae came from one of her kinfolk.

“And do you know where they took him?” Morgana questioned.

“No.. not yet, but I intend to, sooner rather than later, hopefully.” Hopeful wasn’t how Morgana would describe her tone.

“Do you have any idea where to start?”

“Lily has, or I suppose had, a sister. She didn’t inherit the gift, but she’s family.” Amren  said slowly, “Petunia, I think her name is. That should be a good enough place to start.”

“And I’ll help you in the endeavor.” Morgana assured her.

“Would you teach him?” She stared at her, emerald eyes boring into lilac.

“I am the most notorious Dark Lady in history, Amren.” The moniker never failed to amuse her. She earned it for simply disagreeing with Merlin. “Why would you want me to teach him?”

The fairy snorted, “Because you’re one of the most fearsome magicians to ever live. You understand our magic just as well as you do theirs. As to your status, you’re not afraid of magic... that never made you dark. Unlike the monster that did this,” she gestured to the room around them, “you understand the limits of what should be done. Not as though it matters, as there’s no one who’d ever suspect you’re Morgana Le Fay.”

Morgana wrapped her arms around herself, contemplating as she tapped her finger against her bicep. Amren saw that she was intrigued, but not quite convinced and pressed forward, “And surely there’s some small, or rather large part of you, that would enjoy getting one over on someone like Albus Dumbledore? A man who revels in the comparisons to Merlin, who has anover inflated sense of the value of his own opinions?”

“You know me far too well.” Morgana snickered. Playing to her pride worked far better than bribery or pleading ever could.

Amren smiled unreptantly, “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Of course you do,” She sighed, “Fine, I concede, not that any of the arm twisting was truly necessary. Once we find him, I’ll mentor him. You have my word.”

Unfortunately, finding him would prove slightly more difficult than either of them anticipated.

Running from the shoolyard, darting between houses in the hopes of losing his pursuers, had become nothing short of common occurrence. ‘Harry Hunting’, as Piers Polkiss labeled it, was an almost daily pasttime of Dudley and the rest of his gang of merry idiots.

Even with his own breathing heavy, and the thuds of his own footfalls on the ground, he still managed to listen for his pursuers, as little by little, they became more distant. Finally thinking he’d properly lost them, he pressed his back to the brick wall of one of the houses as he tried to catch his breath.

He couldn’t wait too long because if he returned to the Dursley’s too late, the punishment he received from Vernon would be no better than what Dudley and his lot were likley to do to him. Of course, because he was simply the luckiest boy in the whole of Britian, the house’s resident chose that moment to come around the corner from her back garden.

It was one of the insufferable gossips that his Aunt Petunia  adored fawning over and badmouthing depending on which mood struck her, and for whose, amongst others, approval all of his gardening was performed.  So her immediate, insufferably screeching response wasn’t the least bit surprising, “What are you doing? Casing my house for who knows what! Out of here! Out now before I call the police!”

Harry didn’t even bother responding to the miserable cow. He had more important things to worry about. Like her incessant screeching drawing attention. Sure enough, as he turned the next corner, he saw his lumbering, tubby cousin grin before he bellowing, “Found him!”

And just like that, the chase began again. The weathered belt struggling to hold up his too big trousers on his thin frame loosened as he ran. Thanks in no small part to his borderline malnutrition, Harry didn’t always have the stamina to pull away from his tormentors at the best of times. But hampered by having to hold his own trousers up made it inevitable that they’d catch him.

In a last ditch attempt to avoid them, he pulled himself over a nearby fence, hoping that they hadn’t turned the corner yet. He landed face first in a bush, scratches littering  his face as he scrambled to hide himself in the shrubbery.

He could hear their footsteps appraoching. Three of them at first, then heavier ones behind. Dudley’s great, lumbering bulk bringing up the rear. Harry was reasonably confident that if it weren’t for fear of being literally squashed by his immesne weight, and his ability to divert their attention s to him, it would be Dudley that faced the brunt of ridicule from their schoolmates.

“Where’d... he get to... this time?” Dudley wheezed between heavy breathes.

“Don’t know.” Malcolm replied.

“Couldn’t have gotten far though.” Piers commented, annoyingly right. He felt the fence move slightly as someone pushed against it, “I wager he hopped a fence and is trying to hide.”

Harry held his breath, trying to remain as quiet as he could, “Well, look for him then.” Dudley yelled the command to his lackeys.

Closing his eyes, Harry willed his breath to remain steady as they fanned out to find him. Anywhere but here. I wish I was anywhere but here right now.

Not for the first time, he felt as though something inside of himself responded to his desires. Just a year before, during another round of Harry Hunting, he’d found himself on the school’s roof. Despite his best efforts, he’d never managed to recreate his seemingly impossible escape, to the point where he sometimes wondered if it ever even happened at all.

“Who are you?” A small curious voice asked him as he realized the bush he’d accidentally hidden in wasn’t there anymore. Opening his eyes, he wasn’t  in another one of Surrey’s many neatly manicured yards. Instead, he found himself sitting in soft grass in a verdant plain. Flowers grew wild all around, somehow brighter than any he’d ever seen in his life before. Even the air seemed sweeter.

Though, none of that was the oddest thing. Hovering in front of him, feet not quite hitting the ground was a tiny woman. Butterfly like wings fluttered behind her back kept her aloft. She frowned slightly as he stared at her only to ask again, “Who are you?”

Finding his voice, he swallowed before finally managing, “Harry… just Harry.”

“Well, just Harry.” The pixie-like fairy giggled, “How did you get here?”

“I don’t know…” He told her honestly, “I was being chased, and I wanted to be somewhere else and… the next second I found myself here with you.”

She furrowed her brow, tilting her head as though she were viewing a particularly interesting display at the zoo, “How very odd. That really shouldn’t be possible. Well unless…” Talking to herself rather than him, it seemed that she’d had something of an epiphany, “Would you like to come with me. I could give you something to eat and drink. Looks like you could use it, if I’m being honest.”

Harry felt heat rise to his cheeks. He knew that he was scrawny, but that didn’t mean he liked being reminded of the fact. Regardless of how enticing he found the offer, he knew that he needed to get back to Number Four, Privet Drive sooner rather than later unless he wanted to deal with Vernon’s wrath, “That’s very kind of you, but I really should be getting back to where I came from.”

“And where might that be?” She seemed almost insistently curious about that fact.

“In Surrey… in England.” Considering the odd landscape he found himself in, he thought it was probably worth adding that bit of information. Most children were encouraged, from a very young age, not to talk to strangers, and more than that, not to give away personal information. In Harry’s case, with the exception of the way he was treated, the Dursley’s didn’t care if someone stole him away, so they’d never beaten that particular lesson into his head. Which is why he followed up with the far more specific, “Number Four, Privet Drive.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever been.” She smiled beatifically, “Even the name sounds rather dull though. Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay? There are others who I’m sure would be happy to meet you.”

He wanted desperately to agree, eminently curious about whatever oddity he stumbled upon. But still, his sense of self preservation won out and he refused, “No, I really should be going.” Though there was only one small problem with that. As he tried to will himself back, he remained firmly planted in the same spot where he arrived, “Uhmm… you wouldn’t happen to know how I can get back, do you?”

“Fear can be quite the exceptional motivating factor, particularly where magic is involved. I doubt you’ll be able to recreate the feat… at least not right now.” She hovered over to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Lucky for you, I can help.”

As he blinked again, he found himself standing in the same shrubbery he’d left only a few short minutes ago, completely alone, though he did feel a soft squeeze on his shoulder. There was one small detail that worried him though, the sun was beginning to set on the horizon. How in the bloody hell is that possible?!

He’d only been gone a few minutes, and yet it appeared as though it’d been hours. Maybe I knocked my head as I hopped over the fence… and it was all just a quick, but pleasant, dream? The explanation rang hollow to his own mind. After all, he returned standing up and very much aware. Of course, there was one other explanation as he hopped back over the fence and headed toward the Dursleys’ house. She did say magic, didn’t she?

As he opened the door to Number Four, the yelling was immediate, “Boy… what are you playing at?! Getting back at this hour! Dinner should’ve been on the table on the hour! You’d feel my belt if you didn’t have work to do!”

Deciding to count his blessings for the moment, he threw down his bag and headed straight to the kitchen and started working on dinner. Fortunately, the satisfying of his uncle’s empty stomach was enough to make him forget about any further punishment that night.

As he laid his head down that night, thinking of his most recent odd escape, unbeknownst to him, there was someone just outside of the house in quiet conversation.

“We’ve finally found him then?”

“Yes, we have.” Morgana assured her friend even as she waded through the myriad of enchantments placed on the home.

“Good, then we should go and get him and take him back to the Otherworld.” Her eagerness was perfectly understandable, but far from practical.

“You know he can’t grow up there. Though that is far from the only reason not to do it.” Despite her distaste for the man, she really couldn’t help but admire Dumbledore’s spellwork. It did a great deal to explain their difficulties in finding him sooner. “

“Should any magical, human or otherwise, cross that threshold, Dumbledore will know. And that’s to say nothing of the other wards in place.” The blood ward tied to the ritual sacrifice performed by Lily was one of a handful that gave her pause, “They would take time to dismantle, and someone would surely arrive before the process was done.”

Amren didn’t like that explanation one bit, but she knew better than to argue given Morgana’s expertise, “Then what do you suggest?”

“If we can’t simply batter our way to our goal, then a suitable workaround must be found.” She turned to look her friend in the eye, “I’d suggest that we learn where young Harry goes to school.”

Three days after the latest Harry Hunting incident, Harry sat in class listening attentively as Mrs. Thatch talked through another maths lesson. He understood the material well enough, though he rarely ever let it show on their tests. Doing better than Dudley has never done me any favors with my aunt and uncle.

As a result, Harry was a rather poor student. Trying to do worse than Dudley was a feat unto itself and predicting exactly how badly his cousin was going to do, while still doing well enough not to be held back a year, was more difficult than any of the actual coursework he was given.

That’s why, early on that Monday morning, Harry was rather surprised as one of the school’s administrators came in looking for him. She had a sizable mole on her right cheek, and her graying hair was in a tight bun, “Harry Potter.”

For the first time ever, he was the center of the class’s attention. Most of them usually did their best to ignore him to avoid Dudley’s wrath. Now they all  turned, seemingly as one, to find him three rows back nearest to the door, “Yes?”

“Come with me.” Harry rarely argued, something that’d been conditioned out of him by his relatives. So, without a second thought, he packed up his supplies and moved toward the door to follow the woman.

But Dudley wasn’t satisfied with watching his favorite whipping boy being led away without an explanation, “Where you taking him?” As was normal for his cousin, it came out more as a command than a question.

Turning back to the class, she saw plenty of inquisitive faces looking back at her. That didn’t mean they were entitled to an answer though, “Mr. Potter might tell you if he likes, but that’s not information any of you need to know.” With that she opened the door and led him out.

Her heels clicked on the floor as she strode down the halls fast enough that he was nearly jogging to keep up, “Excuse me miss, but where are you taking me?”

She stopped and looked almost sympathetic, “It was determined, after looking into your exam results, that you would benefit from a new classroom environment. I’m afraid you’re being given remedial lessons.”

Well… damn. It appeared that he’d been a bit overzealous in his endeavors not to do better than Dudley, though it begged the question why he wasn’t making this same walk right along with him. She turned on her heel and led him away again. They made their way through the school to a part that he honestly couldn’t say he’d been to before.

The corridor smelled musty, and one of the lights was flickering occasionally. As they approached the door at the end, it opened. A woman he’d never seen in the school before appeared.

Wearing a tight black blouse and a pair of high-waisted jeans, she was easily the youngest instructor he’d ever met. One of the shortest as well. The tallest boy in his year was probably taller than her.  She wore a pair of rectangular glasses behind which was a pair of large, piercing eyes. Like newly blossomed lilac, they were the most startling color he’d ever seen. Her black hair was cut just below her shoulder and hung loose about her head. She had a thin nose and bowed lips. Slender, but with noticeable curves, she was an undeniably beautiful woman.  

She offered a quick smile in his direction before addressing the administrator, “Thank you for bringing him, Elizabeth, I can take him from here.”

Her voice resonated pleasantly, as though it begged to be obeyed. The administrator turned around without a word and left exactly the way she came. It struck him as odd, but he was too preoccupied looking at his new instructor to pay it much mind, “Hello miss…”

“Le Fay.” She offered as she opened the door for him, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Harry.”

“You as well, miss.” Unsure of why exactly she said ‘finally’, he followed her into his newest classroom. As he crossed the threshold, it felt as though he passed through a thin veil. What he found within made him question if he was really there for remedial lessons.

Only one desk sat in the room, save his instructors, though that wasn’t what made him question the story he was told. Written in neat, looping handwriting on the board it said ‘An Introduction to Magical Theory and Practical Applications’. If that weren’t enough of an indicator, the bubbling cauldron on the table Miss Le Fay’s desk would’ve given it away. And is it just me or is this room bigger than it should be?

“So, Harry,” she grinned knowingly, “do you have any questions?”

“Why am I really here?”

“Because,” Moving forward, she placed a hand on his shoulder, “a dear friend of mine has been looking for you for some time, and I made certain promises that I intend to keep.”

“What promises?”

“That I’d teach you everything that I can. That I’d mentor you.” She offered him a genuine smile, “You are a wizard, after all. The teachers around here can’t exactly help with that sort of thing.”

There was a part of him that wanted to tell her she was wrong, the part of him that had the importance normalcy literally beaten into him over the years. But there were enough odd occurrences in his life, culminating in his excursion three days prior, that brought him up short.

He looked around the room once more before meeting her gaze, “So, where do we begin?”