Excentryke's Musings

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Helios’s Awakening

Part the Eighth—
I take a shot of memories and black out like an empty street.
—“Beautiful Mistakes,” Maroon 5 feat. Megan Thee Stallion

Helios was waiting outside of Professor Snape’s office, composing his reply to Theodred in his head.  He still hadn’t told Draco he had had the letter read to him or that he had it in his possession.  It was still tucked away in his correspondence box.  Perhaps he should write to his mother about it.  She might know what to do.

“Black!”

Helios’s head snapped up and he saw Snape’s hooked nose poke out of his office, and he quickly jerked off the wall and followed him in.

Setting down his bag, he took a seat and waited for Snape to settle himself.

“How do you find Slytherin House?”

Helios blinked.  “Very welcoming,” he answered after a pause.  “No one bothers me about putting my name in the Goblet.”

“No,” Snape agreed carefully, “they wouldn’t.  They would accept your word as fact, or, rather, would find other avenues to discover the truth other than your testimony.”  He drew out a fresh piece of parchment and a quill.  “This is your O.W.L. year, as you know. That is, your Ordinary Wizarding Levels.  Your marks determine what N.E.W.T. level classes you can take.  Nastily—Exhausting—Wizarding—Tests.  Do take the name seriously.  Your N.E.W.T.s will qualify you for whatever profession you wish to embark upon.  I have Professor McGonagall’s notes on you.  Exceeds Expectations and Acceptables across the board except in Defense Against the Dark Arts.  That is a straight Outstanding.  What,” he asked, “do you intend to do in your life with these scores?”

Helios licked his lips.  “I had thought of fighting Dark Wizards.”

“Like your half-sister?” Snape questioned.  “I’m afraid that’s out of the question.  Your Potions mark alone precludes you from such a future career.  You would need an Outstanding and you’re barely an Acceptable.”

Blinking, Helios took this in.  “I had changed my mind,” he admitted, “after visiting the Auror department.”

“I’m glad to hear it.  What have you turned your mind to?”

He was wondering if he should even mention it.

“Out with it,” Snape snapped, clearly sensing his hesitancy.

“Aunt Petunia watches this programme on telly.”

“That is Mrs. Dursley,” Snape checked.

Helios looked up from where he had been inspecting his nails, which Draco had first years manicure in exchange for checking over their Potions work.  “Er—yes.  I—”  Draco had said that Snape had known Lily Potter when they were children and she had stolen his magic.  Was that true?  Is that how Snape knew who Aunt Petunia was?  He took in a deep breath.  “I find medical examinations fascinating.”  He paused.

It was Snape’s turn to blink.

“You need Potions.”  He took out a folder from his desk and flipped through it.  “You have the charms work.  Very nearly the transfiguration.  Divination won’t help you, but Creatures will prove interesting.  Need to work a little harder there.”  His black eyes flashed up.  “What is it about medical examination of dead corpses that you find so—fascinating?”

“Well,” he paused.  He wasn’t sure he should admit it.  “I remember Voldemort hitting me with the Killing Curse—and I’m not dead.”

“No, you’re not.”  Snape looked at him hard.  “Your uncle is a school governor.”

“—Yes,” Helios agreed.

“If you can get him and another governor to write you a recommendation, I will accept you into the N.E.W.T. level with an Exceeds Expectations.  You’ll still have to bring up your marks, quite a bit, but if you’re up to the challenge, then we’ll see what we can do.”

Looking at him hopefully, Helios almost smiled.

Snape turned around and looked over at several pamphlets he had lined up against the wall.  He took a lone one he had and handed it over.  It read ‘Corpsier.’ 

“No one is interested in the particular science,” he explained.  “We call medical examiners ‘corpsiers’ in the magical world.  It’s quite different than what Mrs. Dursley watches on her television programme, but the same principles apply.  In any healing field, you’ll need Potions, so you better get your marks up and you need to get those recommendations.  I’d start lobbying your uncle now and asking his advice on a second governor.  They may not be amused with your stunt with the Goblet of Fire or Madam Tonks’s interference afterward.”  His eyebrows rose suggestively.  “You have your work cut out for you, Mr. Black.”

“Yes, sir.  Thank you, sir.”

Snape looked him over.  “It is surprising, now that I see you without that horrible scar and with the glamour off your eyes, how much you look like your uncles.  I must say, it is a pleasant change.”  He handed over the parchment where he had written down the courses and marks Helios would need.  “Now, out with you.”

Helios didn’t need to be told twice.  He quickly picked up his bag and hurried out of his office.

Draco was waiting for him.  The light was shining through a window onto his pale blond hair and Helios was struck by how beautiful he was.  Draco, though, quickly looked up with his blue-grey eyes.  “Well?  How did it go?” he asked.

Smiling, Helios handed over the parchment.  “If I can get Uncle Lucius and another governor to write me recommendations, Snape will take me into the Potions N.E.W.T. class with only an Exceeds Expectations.”

“Can you get an Exceeds Expectations?” Draco asked realistically as he looked the parchment over.  “Herbology is fine with an Acceptable, but you need to graduate with an E so you better get that up.  What’s this even for?  Defense Against the Dark Arts isn’t even on here.  I thought you were thinking about breaking Aunt Dromeda’s heart and becoming an Auror.”

Helios held up the pamphlet and waited for Draco’s reaction.

His eyes widened and he quickly snatched it away.  “A corpsier?”

“What do you think?”

“Professor Snape couldn’t have suggested this, not with the amount of work you need to do.”

“No,” Helios agreed.  “I saw it on a Muggle telly show.”

“A what?”

“A pre-recorded play,” Helios explained.  “So you can watch it whenever you want.”

“You can?” Draco asked distractedly as he opened the pamphlet.  “You want to touch dead bodies?”

“I don’t want to—touch dead bodies.”

Draco hit him playfully.  “I didn’t mean like that.”

“Then what did you mean?”

Snape stuck his head out of his office.  “Bulstrode?”

A thick set girl who was waiting several steps down the hall looked up and brushed her brown hair behind her ear.  She picked up her bag and walked toward Snape, glancing briefly at Draco and Helios, before allowing herself to be ushered into Snape’s office.

“I wonder what she wants to be,” Draco muttered darkly before turning to Helios and kissing him briefly.  He picked up his bag and shouldered it.  “Well, this is definitely something.  You should write to Father tonight.  Write to Aunt Dromeda, too.  You don’t want to tell Father before you tell your own mother.”

“No, no, of course not,” Helios agreed.

That night Helios took out several pieces of parchment and wrote first to his mother and then to his Uncle Lucius, before finally writing a letter to Theodred.  He hesitated before dashing off—Theodred, thank you for your interest in me, but I’m afraid that now is not the time.  Helios Black.  He found Theo’s owl and asked him to take a letter to Theodred for him.

“You know he won’t mind,” Helios reasoned, handing it over.  “It’s his brother.”

The owl snapped its beak at him, but offered its leg.  Helios quickly tied it off before sending it off on its way.

Draco came in just as Helios was tying his letter to his mother to Hedwig’s leg.

“Weasley realize Hedwig is now your owl?  Or is still your owl?”

“Of course he hasn’t,” Helios said with a roll of his eyes.  “That would require for him to look up from eating.”

Draco sniggered.  “Did you use Proserpine to send off the letter to Father?”

“Already done,” Helios informed him as he sent Hedwig out the window.  Quickly closing the window, he moved back toward his bed, only to have Draco approach him and lift a hand carefully to feather down his cheek.  “Is the door closed?”

“And locked,” Draco promised, leaning forward and nuzzling Helios’s nose.  “We’re all alone.”

Helios smiled and reached forward for a kiss, but Draco pressed a hand against his shoulder.

“Ask nicely.”

“Draco—”

“Ask—nicely.”

Helios looked into Draco’s teasing blue-grey eyes.  “I know you’ve fancied me for months.”

“That has been obvious since that day we took tea at Grimmauld Place,” Draco agreed, pushing Helios backwards until the back of his knees met the edge of the bed. 

“No, since before then.  Since the Yule Ball.”

“How,” Draco asked, leaning forward but never quite close enough for Helios to kiss, “can you possibly know that?”

“Blaise told me.”

“Well, I’ll be having words with Blaise,” Draco growled before he pushed Helios back on the bed and climbed on top of him.  Leaning up, Helios captured his lips and sank into the feeling, his fingers inching their way up Draco’s beck and into the base of his skull, into his hair. 

Draco no longer tasted of Moroccan smoke, but instead of the potions Snape gave him to stop the cravings.  They tasted of buttered bread and made Helios thirsty for more, so he arched upward, breathing out into the kiss.  Draco began to push up his Hogwarts shirt to feel smooth skin, Helios sucking in a breath, the hand sliding higher—but then the door unlatched and Draco quickly slid off of him and threw himself backward onto his own bed although they were both clearly disheveled, Helios’s shirt tails sticking out of his trousers.

Crabbe lumbered into the room and stopped when he saw the two of them.

“What do you want?” Draco asked him petulantly.  “Don’t you know when a door is locked it should stay locked?”

“Pansy was looking for you, Malfoy.”

Draco rolled his eyes.  “I don’t care who Pansy was looking for.”

“She seemed very insistent—”

“Pansy is always insistent,” Draco threw back at him.  “Since when do you take orders from her and since when do you ever come to fetch me like a crup?”

Crabbe seemed genuinely confused by that one. 

“Go, now,” Draco told him, turning around and sitting on his bed cross-legged.  “Go back and tell Pansy that where I am is none of her business.  Tell her exactly that—none of her business.”

“I—”  Crabbe seemed genuinely confused.

“None of her business,” Draco insisted.

“Isn’t she your girlfriend?”

“No,” Draco told him slowly.  “Now, turn around and close the door behind you.  I want to be alone.”

Crabbe’s eyes flitted to Helios.

“Don’t look at him,” Draco insisted.  “I just told you I wanted to be alone, which means you need to go.  Now go.”

Crabbe dithered for only a moment longer before he turned and walked out of the door, closing it behind him.  Draco stared after him for a moment before he flopped down on his bed, arms wide, and sighed.  “Pansy will be the death of me.”

“She just wants to be the next Mrs. Malfoy.”

“Yes, well, that’s never going to happen,” Draco insisted.  “If I’m forced to take a wife, it will be someone completely unassuming who will—leave me alone.”  This last bit he shouted at the door although Crabbe was long gone.

“Yes, I can see where that would be attractive,” Helios agreed from where he was now lying down on his bed.  “I’m going to be a bachelor like Uncle Regulus.”

“Uncle Regulus might have that wife in France.”

“If he has a wife in France,” Helios argued, “why isn’t he in France, or why isn’t she here in England?”

“Familial dispute?” Draco thought aloud.  “Maybe it’s a secret marriage?  He was in hiding for sixteen years.”

Helios rolled his eyes.  “I don’t think he’s secretly married.  The tapestry hasn’t recorded it.”

“Point well taken,” Draco agreed after a long pause.  “Maybe the nature of the secret marriage means it wouldn’t be recorded.”

“You’re grasping at straws.”

“Perhaps I am.”

Helios looked over and smiled, only to see Draco looking back, his hair adorably mussed.  It took all of Helios’s self-control not to drag Draco back onto his bed and continue where they had been so rudely interrupted. 

Of course, Helios couldn’t live in his bubble world forever.

It was George who found him.  They were transferring between classes when Fred checked him just for being a Slytherin and Helios dropped all his books.  He swore under his breath and Blaise was there immediately to help him.  Scooping up parchments and a bottle of ink that had an unbreakable charm on it, Helios followed it to where it had skidded to George’s feet.  Grabbing it, he made the mistake of looking up into George’s brown eyes.

“Harry?” George breathed.

Helios just shook his head and went back to his bag, stuffing the ink into it and slipping off into class.

He should have known that George wouldn’t let it go.

George came looking for him during lunch. 

Draco swore under his breath as he stood to make a human wall, Theo and Blaise (and Crabbe and Goyle) immediately standing to follow him. 

“I’m looking for—”

“We don’t care who you’re looking for,” Draco drawled back.  “Go back to Gryffindor.”

“If Harry’s here—”

“No one by that name is here,” Theo told him firmly.  “Now go back to Gryffindor.”

George tried to look over their heads, but Helios just kept his head ducked down, playing with his food.  Daphne Greengrass slid down several places and looked up at him with her pretty blue eyes.  “This is certainly interesting, Black.”

“I had honestly expected it earlier.  As it is, it’s already November.”

“There are rumors in the dungeons that you’ve been in hiding.  Why would a Gryffindor know you?”

Helios looked at her gobsmacked.  She just stared at him innocently back.

“Do I really look so different with all the glamours taken off?” he asked her sincerely.

“You must.  I don’t recognize you.”  She shrugged her shoulders.  “Then again, I never knew any of the Gryffindors very well.”

“All fool you, then, Greengrass,” he teased, just as the other Slytherins were coming back to the table.

She gave him a winning smile and slid away from him, giving Draco back his seat.

“Well, that lout is going to be looking for you again.  He’s one of the twins, isn’t he?  The one who’s sympathetic to you and isn’t angry at you for putting your name in the Goblet.”

“That’s the one,” Helios agreed.  He glanced over at the Gryffindor table and saw staring right back at him.

George eventually caught up to him just before December, when he was on an errand to help another student to the hospital wing during Herbology.

“Harry.”

Helios looked up.  “Kind of busy here.”

“Looks nasty.”

“That’s because it is nasty.”

Helios entered the hospital wing and discharged the other student before coming out, finding George waiting for him.  He sighed and set down his bag, leaning up against the wall.  “Out with it.  You’ve been stalking me for weeks.”

“Harry—”

“Helios.  Helios Black.  I thought Hermione would have at least told you that much.”  His blue-grey eyes flashed in the hallway.

“I haven’t spoken to Hermione.”

This surprised Helios.  “Is she on the outs with all of you, not just Ron?”

“Pretty much.  She really hurt Ginny’s feelings when she dropped her when she started dating Krum.”

Helios made a vague motion with his hand.  “Neither whip nor wand.”

George shrugged.  “None of us knew what happened to you.  The Dursleys said they sent you off to Muggle camp and you just never came back.  When we asked Dumbledore, he said your file was still active but confidentiality did not allow him to say anything more on the subject.”

“Well, it’s nice to know someone was still asking after me,” Helios said sarcastically.  “If you must know, my mother came and got me.”

“Your mother?  Your mother—”

“—isn’t Lily Potter.  Mother came and got me, took off a few glamours, and I was resorted under the Adoption Act.  I’ve been here in Slytherin the whole time.  It’s just none of you were looking, which was how I liked it.”

“Harr—Helios.”

“No, that’s how I liked it.  I’d like it to stay that way.  Can you imagine the bullying I’d get if Ron found out?”

George bit his lip and looked away.  “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Thank you.”

“That doesn’t mean that now that I’ve found you I won’t—”

“Won’t what?” Helios asked.  “There’s nothing useful you can do with the information.”

George looked torn.  “Harr—Helios.”

“What?”

“I’ve been so worried about you.”

Helios’s eyes flashed blue.  “There’s nothing to worry about anymore.  I have a mother.  Professor Black is my uncle.”  (George swore under his breath.)  “I have a cousin in Slytherin House.  People actually leave me alone about the Goblet of Fire.  Everything has worked out the way it should have last year.”

“And you want me to walk away?”

“If you would.”

George looked gutted.

“It’s not like I wasn’t just your kid brother’s mate.”

If it were possible, George looked even more gutted.

Helios paused.  “What are you saying?”

“I was waiting for you to reach your fifth year—”

Oh, not George, too.  First Theodred with his owls and now a moping George Weasley. 

“No,” Helios declared, holding up his hand.  “Just, no.”

George looked up sharply, held his gaze, and then nodded.  “No, of course, Fred has been bullying you all last year, and I just let it happen.  The last thing you’d consider is me as a boyfriend.”

Helios let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding.  At least George understood how he thought.

“Well, if that’s settled,” Helios started, picking up his bag.

George halted him.  “Just look after yourself, and if you need anything—”

“Alright, George,” Helios promised.  “I better get back.  I’ve taken too long as it is,” and he left George standing in the hallway outside of the infirmary.

What Helios hadn’t been expecting was an owl from his mother, stating she had received a marriage proposal from Theocritus Nott.  Was this Theo’s father?  I am considering accepting, she wrote.  He is a kind man with sons of his own, so you would have brothers, and I will no longer be in this limbo state of separation.

Helios immediately sought out Theo.  He was sitting with Blaise.  “How are you related to Theocritus Nott?” he asked.

“He’s my father.”

“And how many brothers do you have?”

“Just the one.”

Helios looked down at his letter.  “Have you gotten any owls recently?”

“No.  Why?”

“Your father has—er—proposed marriage to my mother.  I didn’t know he was a widower.”

Theo immediately sat up and held out his hand.  Helios was hesitant, but then handed over his correspondence.  Theo read it over quickly and handed it back.  “I wonder how this came about.”

Helios shrugged.  “Mother doesn’t say how they met.”

“Probably has something to do with the aftermath of the World Cup,” Blaise surmised from his seat.  “Both of you were lost together in the Forest of Dean for over twenty-four hours.  That must have been the connection.”

“That or Theodred writing to Helios,” Theo guessed.  “Madam Tonks may have gone to Father about the situation.”

Helios swallowed.  “I’ve never had a father before.”

“To be fair,” Blaise put in, “before July, you’d never had a mother either.”

“True,” Helios agreed.  “But he’s a stepfather.  I had assumed my mother, now a widow, would marry my father.”

“He could be married to someone else,” Blaise surmised.  “You are fifteen years old.  Fifteen years is a long time to wait.”

Helios couldn’t dispute that.  Fifteen years was a long time to wait.  It wasn’t as if he wanted his mother to be alone.  If Theocritus could give her what she needed, he was all for it, and he was friendly with Theo.  Theodred was an interesting situation, but hopefully Theocritus could put a lid on it now that they were to be stepbrothers.

“What does Theodred do?” Helios asked Theo.  “Or is he home all the time?”

“No, he has a profession,” Theo agreed.  “He works for The Daily Prophet as an editor.”

“Oh.”  Helios thought about that for a long moment.  At least The Prophet except for the preliminary article on how his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire, had pretty much left him alone.  “That sounds interesting.”

Helios was glancing down at the letter.  “Should we both write to our parents and ask about this?”

“Makes sense,” Theo agreed.  “See who gets the best information.  See if we’re spending part of Christmas together.  What church do you go to?”

“St. Pancras Parish Church in London.”

“We’re out in Nottinghamshire.”

“Hmm,” Helios agreed.  “Might be better if we come to you.”  He was now thinking.  He was hoping now he would get his own room.  His thoughts were getting away with him.

He went back down to his dormitory and took out a fresh piece of parchment.  Mother, I’ve spoken with Theo and he says Theocritus is his father.  I wasn’t entirely sure if it mightn’t have been an uncle.  I want you to be happy.  Are we all meeting for Christmas?  Does this mean Theodred can no longer send me letters of devotion?  Helios.

“What is this about Aunt Dromeda getting married?” Draco asked from the door.

He was leaning up against it, his arms crossed, his thin wrists showing provocatively.

“She wrote and said that Theocritus Nott had asked her.”

“Old Death Eater family,” Draco informed him as he came into the room and flopped down on his bed.  “Not that the Blacks aren’t an old Death Eater family.  Or the Malfoys for that matter.  Father was under the Imperius Curse, of course.”

“Of course,” Helios agreed, as he wrote the direction on his owl post and called for Hedwig.  “And Uncle Sirius is innocent and Uncle Regulus broke from Voldemort sixteen years ago.”

“We all had the right of it,” Draco agreed.  “I’m not sure that can be said for the Notts.  I wonder how they feel about Nymphadora.”

Helios sighed.  “I wrote her a note, but I still haven’t heard from her.”

“Send her a Christmas present.”

“What?  Candy?  It’s not like I can send her perfume.”

“Why can’t you send her perfume?”

“She’s my half-sister?”

“Get her something exclusive from The Glass Slipper that she wouldn’t have access to otherwise,” Draco suggested, “so she can only get it through you.”  His blue-grey eyes glinted in the half light, a kissable smirk twisted on his lips.  “She’ll have to talk to you then.”

“Will we have to register it?”

“Under your name.”

“Hmm.”  Helios thought about it.  “I think you might have the right of it.”

“I always have the right of it.”  Draco sat up and crooked his finger toward Helios.  “Come here.”

Helios didn’t need to be told twice.  He sidled over to Draco’s bed and didn’t protest when Draco took his tie in hand, pulling him forward.  “Think of it,” Draco murmured, “your mother will have a pureblood name.  Sacred Twenty-Eight.”

“Sacred Twenty-Eight,” Helios agreed, happy for his mother, though not really caring for the Sacred Twenty-Eight personally.

Draco reached up and kissed him long and hard.  Helios melted into the kiss, sliding over Draco on the bed, letting his bones turn into mush.  They became a tangle of limbs as they just kissed each other there on the bed, Draco securing a locking charm on the hangings so no one would disturb them, especially not stupid witches looking to become the future Mrs. Malfoy.