Helios’s Awakening 05

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Helios’s Awakening

Part the Fifth—
And every time we touch, boy, you make me feel weak, I can tell you’re shy and I think it’s so sweet, spending every night under covers and still I wonder…
—”Woman Like Me,” Little Mix feat. Nicki Minaj

The campsite was ashes and pieces of fabric, and Helios looked around incredulously. 

“What happened here?” Draco asked, nudging a firepit that had long since had gone out.

“There appears to have been a duel fought in Miss Granger’s honor,” Uncle Regulus answered darkly.  “One of the Bulgarian chasers felt that Krum did not have his mind on finding the snitch and was looking over at her instead.  A duel broke out, which turned into a riot, which spread throughout the camp.”

“Such a waste,” Helios murmured as he was given his trunk from the scorched insides of their tent.  It was still the early hours of the morning before dawn, but they were not staying.  “And all over that?”

“The Irish got involved,” Uncle Regulus continued.  “It was only a matter of time after that.”

Draco’s trunk came out next.

“Are you certain you’re unhurt?” Uncle Lucius checked, shining his wand in Draco’s left eye again.

“We just slept on the forest floor,” Draco told him.  “It was uncomfortable, but nothing horrible.  Helios was there.”

Uncle Lucius still seemed unconvinced.  “I still want you to see Severus.”

“Snape?” Helios mouthed and Draco nodded his head.

Helios grimaced.  He didn’t want to see Snape before the first of September. 

“The house elves will take care of the rest,” Uncle Lucius was now saying, all the trunks in a pile.  “We’re going to Spinner’s End.”

Spinner’s End?  Where was that?

They walked away, the sun not even having reached the horizon, and made their way through the desolate campsite.  It was like walking through a ghost town.  It was completely unreal.  There was the occasional wizard trying to put out a fire or take down a tent, but there was hardly a soul to be seen.  The dregs of the campsite had been left up, as if everyone had run away and left all of their possessions behind.

“Have you apparated before, Helios?” Uncle Regulus asked.

“Yes,” Helios agreed.  “Mother apparated with me to Grimmauld Place.”

“Good,” Regulus stated.  “You’re used to it.”  He took Helios by the arm and Helios felt the sudden sensation of being smashed into a small tube and coming out the other end, his head spinning.  His left wrist, which had been aching since he woke up, hurt a little more, but he grinned and bore it.  He barely stayed on his feet, tottering a bit, but Uncle Regulus kept a good hold on him, and Helios regained his footing.

A moment later Uncle Lucius and Draco appeared.

They were now in a dusky looking lane with no street lights, dark houses lining the street.  Lucius led them up to one of the houses, knocking on the door with his cane.  Helios was unsure anyone was going to open the door.  It couldn’t be later than four in the morning, but after about two minutes, the door slid open and the surly face of Professor Snape appeared.

“Ah, Severus,” Lucius greeted.  “I’m sure you’ve heard what happened at the World Cup.”

Snape ushered them in.  “Was anyone hurt?”

“Draco and Helios went missing in the Forest of Dean for nearly twenty-four hours.  It never hurts to be too careful.”

Helios entered the house and noticed that it was filled with books.  There wasn’t a bit of wall showing.  It was rather a dingy little house, but the sheer amount of books was astounding.

Snape was now leading them to a back room where there was a medical bed set up, more books pushed against the walls.  An odd cabinet protruded out of the books, but the house was more of a personal library than anything else.

“They were saying over the wireless that St. Mungo’s is inundated with injuries.  They’re calling it a diplomatic disaster.  Krum has been banned from the league for life.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” Lucius agreed as Draco was helped up onto the bed and Snape began several scans on him.  “The property damage alone must go into the millions.”

Snape was now testing Draco’s reflexes.  “Hmm.”  He ran a full body scan.  “He’s dehydrated, which is normal given he was missing for nearly a day.  I’ll give him a potion as well as a full dose of vitamins.—I want you to hydrate yourself, Draco, for the next week.  If you feel weak, I want you to come straight back to me.”

“Yes, sir,” Draco agreed, taking the potions given to him and barely making a face when he took them. 

“You’re also in nicotine withdrawal, but I don’t suppose you want me to help you with that.”

“I just need a packet of cigarettes.”

Lucius, however, was looking at his son balefully.  “Give him something. I want him to stop such a filthy habit.  He’s barely fifteen.”

“I’ll brew something,” Snape promised.  “Off.  Who is my next patient?”

Helios carefully presented himself.

Snape looked at him hard for a long moment.  He glanced at Lucius in question.

“My sister-in-law’s son.  He may seem familiar.  He’s been in hiding for the past fifteen years.”

“You are not James Potter’s son,” Snape carefully checked.

“No, sir,” Helios answered just as carefully.  “I don’t know who my father is.  I know it’s not James Potter, though.”

Snape took him in carefully and then turned to Regulus, carefully taking in their similarities.  “I take it you’re a Black, then, young man.”  He seemed pensive.  “Are you wearing glamours?”

“They’ve all been taken off.”

This clearly surprised Snape.  Making a motion with his hand, he indicated that Helios should get up on the medical bed.  Snape then held up his wand and began his examination.  When he came to Helios’s left wrist, he ran a couple more spells and twisted it to the side back and forth.  Helios hissed.

“Sprained,” Snape declared, going and getting a potion from his stores.  “He’s also dehydrated.  Same instructions for you as for young Draco.  I take it you can get back here if necessary?”

“Grimmauld Place has a floo,” Helios answered as he took his potions. 

His wrist instantly felt better.  He must have sprained it when he was holding up his fingers as lamplights or even while sleeping on it as a pillow. 

“You cannot be Bellatrix’s son,” Snape was now asking, looking between Lucius and Regulus.  “She’s in Azkaban.  She never would have left her son to a Muggleborn to raise.”

“Andromeda,” Lucius told him.  “She left Helios’s placement to Sirius.”

Snape snorted.  “And Black left his nephew to Potter.  Makes perfect sense.”  He turned his attention back to Helios.  “You’ve been quiet in Potions this past year.”

“Er—yes.”

“In fact, the Gryffindors have been shunning you.”

Helios glanced over at Draco.  “Er—yes.”

“It’s been a great improvement on your usual behavior.  I expect even more of an improvement for your O.W.L. year now that you’re no longer associating with Weasley or Granger.”  He now turned to Regulus.  “Do you know if Madam Tonks means to get him resorted?”

“I have advised her toward that action,” Lucius put in as Regulus deferred to him.  “Helios putting his name in the Goblet of Fire is clearly evidence of Slytherin cunning.”

“I thought it was evidence of Gryffindor stupidity,” Snape argued, pausing.  “But I see your point.”  He looked over at Helios.  “Two glamours gone and you really look nothing like yourself, Black.  Now, off.”

Helios hopped off the medical bed.

“I’ll write my recommendation given my friendship with the House of Malfoy,” Snape was now saying as he was ushering them toward the floo.  “I’m sure Draco and Helios are tired given that they’ve spent two nights on a forest floor—and their mothers are surely worrying about them.”  They stopped at a fireplace.  “You’ll keep me informed.”

“Of course,” Lucius agreed.

Draco and Helios shared a look before Helios flooed out with Regulus, falling out of the chimney into the kitchen of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Andromeda was sitting in a dressing gown with a cup of untouched tea, looking into the distance.  The clock read that it was half past five.  At the sound of the floo connecting, she looked up and jumped to her feet.  “Helios!” she cried.  “You’re all right!”

Helios immediately found himself in his mother’s arms, being cradled.  She held him tightly, her chin tucked into his shoulder, her hands reaching up to hold him to her.

Regulus walked out of the fireplace a moment later.

“I was so worried when I heard on the wizarding wireless,” she was now confessing, tears in her voice, “and when I didn’t hear from any of you—”

“The boys ran toward the Forest of Dean when the fighting broke out,” Regulus assured her, placing a hand on her back.

Andromeda pulled away from Helios, but kept her hands on his forearms.  “You ran to the forest?”

Helios shrugged.  “With Theo Nott.  We ran rather far in and got lost.”

“Once the fighting died down it was already noon the next day and it took us several hours to realize Draco and Helios were missing,” Regulus explained.  “It then took another few hours to realize what must have happened.  They were quite clever getting away from the chaos.  Not all of the children were so smart.”

“They were saying there were several deaths,” Andromeda admitted.

“Yes,” Regulus admitted.  “I saw the bodies.  We were able to determine, early on, that Helios and Draco were not among them.”

Helios stared at him.  “People died?”

“Well over two dozen,” Regulus told him, “over half of them children who didn’t get out of the way quickly enough and were trampled.”

Andromeda bit her lip in worry and reached up to clasp Helios to her again.  “It was all supposed to be safe.  Oh, my poor darling.  I can never quite seem to keep you safe.”

“Mother,” Helios whined.  “I’ve been quite safe for years.”

“Not so,” she murmured.  “Not so.”

They stayed like that for a few minutes until Andromeda finally pulled away and let Helios eat the breakfast Kreacher prepared for him.  He was quite happy for the French toast and bacon with tea before going up to the second floor and having a hot shower.  He crashed into bed sometime before seven in the morning and was dead to the world for several hours.

That is, until an owl started tapping on the window and woke him up.

Hedwig would never have had such poor manners.

Helios groaned and pushed himself up onto his arms, blearily looking around the room.  He reached out for his glasses before he realized he no longer needed them.  The sun was shining through the windows, but he had drawn the curtains on his bed mostly shut.  His room was in greys and purples, just a four poster stuffed in a corner with a window next to it, opposite the door, with a desk at the foot of the bed, but it was nicer than any room Helios had ever had before. 

Shoving the curtains aside, Helios unclasped the window and let the unfamiliar owl in and untied the letter on its leg.

He glanced at the direction.  It was for ‘Harry Potter’ and he recognized the handwriting.  It was from Hermione.  What did she want?  Couldn’t she have kept on ignoring him as she had since last November?

“I don’t have any owl treats,” Helios told the owl.  “There may be an owlery. I don’t know.  You’ll have to go check.”  He made a motion toward the window.  The bird waited and glared at him.  Great, it wanted a response.

Falling back into bed, he nearly fell back asleep.

Opening the letter, he angled it toward the light that came in between the curtains and read:

Dear Harry,

I know it has been quite some time since we’ve spoken.  That’s been my fault.  I didn’t believe you about the Goblet and by the time I saw how dangerous the tournament was, I didn’t know how to apologize. 

I understand you’re at a Muggle camp so you may not have heard, but there was a riot at the Quidditch World Cup—

Helios set the letter aside.  Great, so she still hadn’t apologized.  She wanted what she wanted, and she didn’t care about his feelings.

“Kreacher!” he called and he heard a little pop. 

Looking out from between the curtains, he saw the house elf.  “What time is it?”

“Halfs past eleven.”  His voice was as gravelly as ever but, if Helios wasn’t mistaken, he had a rather adoring look in his eyes.

“When’s lunch?  When is it served?”

“Halfs one.”

“Right.”  Helios glanced back at the letter.  “Can I have a cup of Earl Grey with milk and some digestives?  No need for a full tea service.”  He’d only been in the house for a day, but he already knew of Kreacher’s habit to go overboard in his desire to please his wizarding masters.  “If Mother asks for me, tell her I’m reading some owl mail.”

He looked down at himself.  He was only wearing the robe he’d put on after his shower.  No need to get dressed, he thought to himself.  There was no one here but him.

Kreacher was still waiting.

“That’s it.  Thanks.”

Kreacher was gone with another pop.

Helios picked up the letter again.  Might as well get it over with.

I understand you’re at a Muggle camp so you may not have heard, but there was a riot at the Quidditch World Cup—

That was right.  Fred might have mentioned that he was supposedly at camp or something.  Nice to think that the Dursleys were sending him somewhere nice for once in his life.

—but there was a riot at the Quidditch World Cup and it’s all my fault.  Viktor invited me and, of course, I went once I convinced my parents to let me go.  Darius insulted Viktor’s performance when they lost (although Viktor spectacularly caught the snitch with what you call a Wronski feint) and blamed me, Viktor took out his wand, and it turned into a riot.  Twenty-six wizards died including eleven children and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement have already interviewed me, although no blame has been attached to me.  I don’t know what to do.

Viktor won’t even look at me and has returned to Bulgaria pending further investigation.  I’ve returned to Exeter with my family and I was wondering if I can come and see you.  I just want to see a friendly face.  I could come to your camp, maybe.  Surely they allow guests.  We could go to the local village and have tea.

I realize now it was wrong of me to cut you and Ron out of my life.  A boyfriend is just a boyfriend.  Boyfriends come and go.  Friends, however, are forever, or should be.  I am taking a more mature attitude of the entire situation.

Please write to me and tell me how you are.  Yours, Hermione Jean Granger

Helios threw the letter away from him.  He peaked out of the curtains.  The owl was still waiting.

Kreacher had since popped in and left a hot cup of tea and digestives for him on his bedside table.  Helios took a sip of the tea and that centered him.

Climbing out of bed, he took a bite of a digestive and set it down.  He chewed slowly and swallowed.

Going over to his desk, he took out some parchment.

It was all embossed with the name ‘Helios Perseus Black.’  Putting down his dish of tea, he searched the whole desk.  Finding that there were several different styles, they nonetheless all had his names or initials embossed or engraved on them.

He sighed and chose a small notepaper that simply had ‘HB’ engraved in the lower righthand corner.  Taking out a quill, he put the date.  His birthday was coming up.

Dear Hermione, he wrote.  She wasn’t his ‘dear’ anything, but it was already written, so he supposed he better just continue.  No need to waste such nice parchment.

I was actually at the Quidditch World Cup with my cousin. We ran into the Forest of Dean and were missing for nearly twenty-four hours.  We suffered from dehydration and I sprained my wrist.  Considering children actually died, I think we got off lightly.  He paused, sucking on the end of the quill.  As you can guess, I’m not actually at Muggle camp.  The Dursleys are just saying that so they don’t have to answer questions.  As it is, I could do without fickle friends.  Where were you when I was being called a liar?  Where were you when I was eating at the end of the table and not even the first years would sit with me?  Where were you when my mother came to the Dursleys to take me away?  I thought so.  HB (HP)

He read it over.  It was a bit bitter, but he didn’t know how else to put it.  He found an envelope and addressed it before giving it back to the owl, which fortunately flew out of the window. 

Helios took another bite of his digestive biscuit.

He breathed through his nose and crashed back onto his bed.  He had another hour before he had to be up for lunch. 

Of course, Hermione didn’t stop writing him pleading notes, and Draco found the pile of letters from her.  “Granger is writing you?”

“Krum has ditched her and now she won’t leave me alone,” Helios told him.

“Really?” Draco said gleefully, picking up the one on top.  “Won’t you tell me where you are, Harry?  We could go to Florean Fortescue’s for ice cream and you can explain who your mysterious mother is and how this is even possible.  Dumbledore surely would not allow you to be with anyone but the Dursleys.  You know you must stay with them for your protection.—Who does this bitch think she is?”

“Her stupid owl won’t leave until I give him a letter back.  I’ve started sending back blank stationary.”

“What a waste of perfectly good parchment,” Draco mused, shifting through the letters.  “Why don’t you tell her that Mudbloods aren’t allowed in the house?”

“She’ll call Mother a dark witch.”

“Aunt Dromeda is a dark witch,” Draco responded, climbing on the bed next to Helios, the pile of letters in his hand.  “She always has been.  She’s a Black.”

“I know that.  You know that.  Do we want Hermione Granger to know that?”

“If it makes her shut up, then yes,” Draco told him outright.  “Now what was this idea you had?”

“I think we should weave a new tapestry.”

Draco paused.  “To replace the old one?”

“Yes,” Helios agreed.  “We can start right at the beginning with Phineas Nigellus again, weave it down, and then everyone’s faces will appear.”

“Along with the Squib,” Draco pointed out.

“But the tapestry will be whole.  Uncle Sirius will be on it—”

“Aunt Dromeda will be on it.  That’s the point.  Nymphadora won’t be on it.  She’ll still be a half-blood.”

“Yes,” Helios admitted, “but it will restore six people.  And it won’t be so ratty anymore.  I’m certain if I ask Uncle Regulus to help, he will.”

“He has no love for Uncle Sirius.”  Draco stretched out and Helios definitely noticed how Draco’s tunic rode up.

“But he has love for Mother.”

“Yes, but he also is not burnt off the tapestry.  He’s not hurt by it.”

The cousins fell into silence just catching glances at each other.

“I got another letter,” Helios admitted, turning over to open his bedside table and taking out a piece of parchment that was folded into a small square and unsecured by wax.  He passed it over, his fingers brushing Draco’s.

“Dear Harry,” Draco read, looking over incredulously.  “Harry?  How many letters are you still getting as Harry Potter?  I thought no one was talking to you!”

“You’d be surprised,” Helios griped.  “Just read it.”

Draco looked at him with blue-grey eyes, but then turned his attention back to the letter.  “Dear Harry,” he began again.  “I have been patrolling Privet Drive and have seen no evidence that you are here.  Please write and tell me that you are among wizards and safe.  If I don’t hear from you, I will bring this up with Dumbledore.  Your dogfather.—Dogfather?”

“Er—Uncle Sirius is a dog animagus.”

“Is he?” Draco wondered out loud.  “When did you get this?”

“This morning.”

“You should answer.”  Refolding it, he handed it back.

“And say what?  I know you’ve lied to me for over a year?  I know you’re not my dogfather but my cousin?  I know I’m not Harry Potter but Helios Black?”

“Okay,” Draco drawled, “I’ll answer for you.”  He rolled to a sitting position and then crawled to the end of the bed, launched off of it and opened the desk, taking out a piece of parchment.  “Dear Uncle Sirius,” he read aloud as he wrote, “Helios is with Aunt Dromeda at Grimmauld Place.  Shame on you for not telling him who he really is.  Now he doesn’t know what to say to you.”

“What?” Helios screeched.

“I can attest to it as his favorite cousin.  Draco Malfoy.”  He made a flourish with his quill and then began to fold the parchment.  “Where’s your seal?”

“You didn’t actually write—”

“Of course I did.  It’s terribly honest.  He’ll appreciate it.—Ah, here it is.”  He lit a stick of black wax by snapping his fingers and then sealed the letter.  “Where’s your owl?”

Helios was staring at him in disbelief.

Draco wasn’t paying attention.  Of course he wasn’t.

Next, he went to the window, threw it open, and called out, “Owl!  Where are you?”

Hedwig fluttered down and Draco looked over at Helios triumphantly.  “What a good owl you are,” Draco cooed to Hedwig, petting her.  “I bet you are a lovely owl.”  He tied the letter onto her leg.  “Take that to Sirius Black at Privet Drive.  Apparently he likes to hang out as a dog, so don’t let that fool you.”

“Hedwig knows that,” Helios told him acidly.

Draco gave him a dirty look, but then returned his attention to Helios’s owl.  “Hedwig!” Draco cooed.  “What a lovely name for a lovely girl.”  He stroked her breast feathers once more before letting her flap away.  “You really do have a lovely owl.”

“Yes, I know that,” Helios griped.

“Well, I was just saying.”  His blond hair fell into his blue-grey eyes, distracting Helios once again.

He then flopped back over to the bed and lay on his back, hands under his head.  Helios was on his stomach and he looked over at his cousin, noticing how his neck was stretched up as he was looking toward the ceiling. 

“Enjoying the view?” Draco smirked.

Helios blushed and looked away.

Draco licked his lips and looked over at Helios.  “You look so much better without your glasses.”

“I—er—”

“Take the compliment,” Draco suggested.  “It was meant as one.”

Helios’s eyes fluttered and he turned his gaze back to Draco.

“Your eyes are so much better when they’re not that horrible green,” he continued.  “I hated that green.  It always reminded me of the Killing Curse.”

“The Killing Curse?”

“Yeah,” Draco agreed.  “Who wants to be reminded of that when staring into someone else’s eyes?”

Draco had a point.  He remembered Professor Moody teaching them about the three Unforgivable Curses and using them on spiders.  The Killing Curse had been a bright green and it had been rather like the green of the glamour on Helios’s eyes, now that he came to think about it.

“Well, those were Lily Potter’s eyes,” Helios told him.

“Strange that she had magic eyes given that she stole her magic.”  Draco leaned a little closer to Helios.

“Who’d she steal her magic from?  The other night you said you knew.”

“Oh.  It was Severus.  They were childhood friends and knew each other before Hogwarts.  She stole his magic, but he had so much he managed to be all right.”

Leaning back slightly, Helios whispered, “Snape knew m—Lily?”

“Oh yeah.  He asked the Dark Lord for her and everything.  James Potter stole her away when they were at Hogwarts.”

“That seems so—”

“—strange?  Say that again.”

Helios’s mind was racing.  “Is that why he hates James Potter so much?  Because he stole Lily away?”

“Guess so,” Draco murmured, leaning closer again.  “I’d hate any wizard who stole you away from me.”

“No one would want to steal me away,” Helios disagreed. 

“Are you sure about that?” Draco asked.  “Theodred was looking at you rather closely.”

“Do you think?” Helios murmured and with that, Draco leaned in and kissed him.