Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

By The Light	By : lycanthrope Category: Harry Potter > FemSlash - Female/Female Views: 17685 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: All of the characters portrayed in this fic (apart from Jamie.) and all other creations existing within the world Of Harry Potter are the creative genius of J.K Rowling, I make no profit from the writing or posting of this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 39
- 40
- 41
Chapter 40

Breakfast, on this particular day falls at a very inconvenient time for me. Thousands of questions and so few answers from the assortment of myths Luna was able to impart to me. Caves and boulders. Along with serpents and swords. All very interesting stories for the sun deity but it still gives me very little information. Actions and consequences, assuming that they are all true, still taking place thousands of years ago. Proving to be very little help when very important questions, like why me, or how is that possible are raised. All it really did was cement my impossible conclusion in my mind. Many of the stories she had told me I had already seen in my dreams, months ago when all of this began. Vague images in the night, becoming real and tangible in the harsh light of day.

So logically the only step I can take is to force Ammy to the forefront of my mind. It would have been beneficial for her to have been bubbling beneath the surface and able to see this morning and all the revelations it entailed. However it appears my life is never quite that simple. Still my mind is so eerily silent you could hear a pin drop. It’s frustrating to say the least.

Still I have already made a prior commitment and I sincerely promised Hermione that she would get some answers from me this morning. So I find myself in the Great Hall, already buzzing with life and somewhere amongst it I very awkwardly thank Luna Lovegood for her time this morning. She could clearly see how difficult it is for me to put that particular feeling into words, especially when I am not very familiar with a person. She watched me struggling with my own tongue and it took me several moments of strange, meaningless hand gestures to realise she was able to understand. Her eyes then found the magical ceiling of the hall and muttered a very distant ‘You’re welcome’ before disappearing into the crowd to join her house. A very strange but very insightful girl.

When I approach the table where my friends are seated Ginny is the first to take note of me, pushing her back straight and seeking my eyes with her concerned gaze. Looking like a meerkat in amongst the rest of the student body, who all appear to be slouched in their seats or hunched over their morning meal. A single one of her red eyebrows raises in a form of question, before her face slowly morphs into a grin filled with so much mischief it very nearly makes me do an about face and forget the promise I had made this morning. Perseverance wins out and I take my seat with a very weary expression on my face.

“You’re looking better today.” She comments still grinning so wide she shows me her teeth, the expression makes me wish she might just begin her customary teasing. Just so I am not left on the edge of my seat with anticipation.

“Do I?” I ask trying to remove my eyes from her and settling it onto my empty plate, hoping it might remove all forms of temptation from her.

“Yeah, you look springy.” Springy? That particular comparison has me raising both my gaze and a single eyebrow. “Like a rabbit on a promise.”

“We’re back to bunnies again?” I ask wondering if the state of my love life can really be the talk of the entire school. Surely there must be some more interesting form of gossip by now.

She shrugs her shoulders making an utterly unintelligible noise in the back of her throat. “I thought it had been long enough to bring it back. Besides the metaphor still holds true.”

I sigh to myself and to be perfectly honest try to pin point the moment the younger girl was able to drag me down to her level enough to keep up this petty argument. “Tell me Ginny. Is your constant reference to my bedroom activities, a product curiosity or jealousy?”

She smiles, big and wide, becoming so enchanted by the back of forth we have so easily fallen into that she sets her cutlery aside. Forsaking her meal in favour of entering this spontaneous game that has begun so suddenly. “Jealousy.” She begins to nod looking at some distant point over my shoulder in a mock show of thoughtfulness. “Defiantly jealousy.”

Ron, the poor boy, who is still under some insane illusion that his sister is the picture of innocence almost chokes on his eggs. “Wh-what?”

We have already proven that if I ever found myself in a situation such as this I would turn beat red and promptly drown in whatever I happen to be drinking. Ginny, she just starts giggling and tries to give off the air of melodrama with a huge grin still plastered to her face. “Oh Ron, you could never understand what I share with Hermione. You can’t spoil our love!”

No less than two years ago I might just have ripped her arms from her shoulders and beaten her to death with them for even jesting such a thing. Now? Now all I can do is burry my face in my hands and pray that the all-consuming laughter at the look on Ron’s face, subsides sometime before I suffocate. “You’re incorrigible.”

“We can but try.” She says, shooting a glance to my left, to look over Hermione while simultaneously lifting her goblet from the table. “Whatever is in that letter must be very interesting. I thought I’d at least get a scowl for that.”

Personally I would have expected Hermione to strike out beneath the table and add another bruise to Ginny’s collection she is beginning to gather along her shins but she remains motionless. Not paying us any heed as we descend into ever increasing childish banter. “Hermione?” I call and receive nothing, not a hint of movement, not a spark of acknowledgement. It’s only when I glance over her shoulder to see what holds her attention that I begin to understand. All of the hairs along the back of my neck simultaneously stand to attention and I slam my eyes closed turning away from the page, the cogs in my mind already turning over this rapid change in events.

Without looking I reach over and snatch away the parchment from Hermione’s fingers, it’s only then that she moves. Turning towards me with a look of indignation pulled tightly across her features. “I was reading that.”

The thin slip of paper crumples in my hand and I press my bent knuckles against my lips, all forms of jubilation evaporating in an instant. “No you weren’t.” I feel a tight growl lace my words, anger evident in my voice and only wonder for a heartbeat is my murderous thoughts show on my face. My eyes scan the Slytherin table, finding that crop of platinum blond in seconds. Malfoy is casually pushing Goyle in his seat, his attention decidedly not on me, not seeking a reaction. If this were his doing he would want me to know. Not asserting his dominance over his bodyguards. That leaves my father, which in turn brings about a whole host of possibilities.

“Jamie, give it back.” Hermione says close to my ear and when my eyes land on her she physically recoils. Making it abundantly clear how obvious my rage shows on my face.

“What does it say?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level. She is not the source of my foul mood and I am trying to keep her out of its wake as much as humanly possible but to run now would do far more harm than good. So I must stay and risk the consequences.

Her mouth hangs open, trying to form a reply but I know even as she searches her mind for something she is certain she read mere moments ago she can recall nothing from her memory. I pull the crumples in the page out and rip it down the middle, effectively ending the curse that has been placed upon it then throw the two halves down onto my plate. It only takes Hermione’s mind a moment to understand what it is she’s seeing. “Is that a rune?”

“It’s a Stygian symbol immobility.” I say, resting my elbows on the table and pressing my fingertips into my eyes.

“Oh, I believe you.” Ginny says and I can hear her reach over to pick up one half of the parchment. “What does it do?”

With a deep breath and absolutely no idea how I am going to structure the solution to my two current problems I answer, pulling the words straight from the textbook and not having to think about it. “Renders the reader completely motionless, save for breath. Surpassingly easy to conjure but relatively harmless to anyone who isn’t a hermit.”

“If it’s harmless, what’s the point?” Harry asks.

“What better way to send a message?” I answer in a distracted fashion, my eyes already on the staff table hunting for Snape. The uneasy trust I have begun to form for my head of house will have to be sufficient because tactically he is the best source of aid. However presently he is not in attendance at breakfast. I feel myself grunt low in my throat in frustration, not enough time to address all of the issues before lessons begin. However venomously I wish to take care of the concerns my father has risen at the very earliest opportunity, Snape’s absence all but makes the decision for me.

Ginny raises her eyes from the page, looking much more still than I have ever seen her. “What kind of message?”

That’s a loaded question if I ever heard one. Actions speak so much louder than words but not only that so many meaning can be attributed to a single act. The most prominent here, is to inform me that my father is severally displeased that I would go over his head in the manner that I did but this is not something I can divulge to the people around me, without drawing attention to the fact that I had made to betray them in the first place. “Just so I know he can, any time he chooses.”

“I’m sorry.” Comes the meek voice next to me and it effetely pulls me free of the haze of strategy and scheming that I have fallen into.

I feel my forehead crumple in confusion. “Whatever for?”

“You’re angry.” Hermione says, as if it should be obvious why she apologises.

“Yes I am.” I concede and watch her eyes close but I am uncertain if she is waiting for me to lash out or feels guilt over my reaction. “However I fail to see how that could be your fault.”

I see her swallow back whatever was on the tip of her tongue and retreat into herself looking docile and chastised. “I shouldn’t have opened it.”

“It was addressed to you.” I say and try to stomp out such a train of thought. “Of course you opened it; you are going to learn how to screen your mail though.” Yet another task I must complete, with each passing moment I add yet more to my day’s schedule and I am rapidly running out of time. “Sometime after my detention.” I mutter to myself then fall into a state of stillness for a whole heartbeat. Giving myself just enough time to order my thoughts and my day. “Excuse me.” My hands press against the tabletop and I push myself to my feet. Heading towards the high doorway of the Great Hall and the fastest pace my long stride will allow without actually breaking out into a sprint.

I should have known Hermione would follow me. At my heels and quiet until we are out of earshot of most of the student body. “Where are we going?” She asks, looking up at me silently asking me to run my highly sensitive hearing around us to make certain we are not overheard.

“I have to speak to Ammy.” I reply.

“Because of the letter.”

“No the letter is separate.” As it stands the correspondence from my father has only pushed my timetable to breaking point and now I have a sense of urgency running through my skin. I am grateful that it has not yet been pushed into the realms of panic. If that were to happen I would have no hope of putting anything into an executable order.

“So why are we going to speak to Ammy?” Hermione is quickly losing track of my train of thought. That much is evident from the way she uses her hands in some bizarre visual cue in an attempt to order them.

“Because,” We reach the summit of a flight of stairs and I stop, turning on the shorter woman who is busy trying to catch her breath. “She might be the goddess of the sun.” I continue in a very uncharacteristic show of honesty. The idea, the very notion of what I have just said is insane at best but so is a disembodied voice floating around in my head. Can this be any more outlandish than the voice of the primal half of my being rendered civil enough to communicate? To my mind the answer is no, categorically, unequivocally and Hermione has proven that my bouts of madness do not phase her. So to keep this from her can do nothing more than drive me deeper into lunacy.

Hermione blinks for a moment in my direction, waiting me to burst out laughing or try to scramble about dragging the words back into my mouth. When I do neither all she can say is: “She’s a what?”

“Might be.” I remind her, turning and setting a burning pace along the hallways. “That’s why I need to talk to her.”

“Jamie, that’s…” She manages to catch up to me waving her open hands around to show that she has no way of expressing herself without using words that I might take offence to. “That’s absolutely crazy.”

“Yes and everything else that’s happened to me in the past nine months is completely rational.”

“More rational than gods and goddesses inhabiting human hosts.” She says and I can feel her eyes on me as my jaw tightens. She heaves a huge sigh and on some level just accepts my words at face value. “Alright, fine you need to speak to her. She disappeared days ago. How exactly are you going to hold a conversation when she isn’t around?”

“I’m going to pry into her memories and call her into this world.” I say halting in my frantic stride to look at the solid wall on the seventh floor.

“You’re going to what?” Hermione says, deeply confused.

“I’m going to recreate the first time she spoke to me.” I explain and for the first time find myself deeply grateful that Hermione’s inquisitiveness forced her to follow me this morning. “I need the meeting place of Dumbledore’s army.”

She still has her mouth hanging open in shock, words of disagreement lodged somewhere in the back of her throat as she looks first to me then to the expanse of wall. “The last time you did that, you were bed ridden for nearly a day and you are still in constant pain because of it.”

“I’m open to suggestions, Hermione.” I open my arms wide, in a show of surrender and utter acceptance of what she might impart.

“You have a god of the sun.” She begins and I can see a streak of stubbiness running through her eyes as her arms cross over her chest. “Have you tried praying to him?”

She’s not pacing. Why is she not pacing? Even I know that she must pace the hallways and ask the room for what she needs before the room can come into existence. “I prayed to Athena.” I see Hermione’s face crumple at this and I’m not certain if she does not recognise the name or she had not been prepared for that response. “This is the wisdom she gave me. Now if Amaterasu happens not to be the same entity as Apollo, angering him would not be very productive.”

She runs out of solutions very quickly and shows me this by growling low in the throat, her hands fisting in her bushy hair. “Why are you so stubborn?” she asks through gritted teeth and turns on the ball of her floor to begin pacing the hallway.

The question may have been rhetorical but the answer leaves from between my lips before I can confine it. “Necessity.”

Even before the door has fully materialised the brass knob is cooling my palm and I am pressing my shoulder against it to push it open. My robes are still currently around the shoulders of Luna who made no effort to return her to dormitories after we returned to the castle. So without that particular hindrance to remove I pull at my sleeves until they are rolled high above my elbows and tug my wand out of my back pocket. Shifting my weight from one foot to the other and mentally gearing myself up to confront Ammy. “You don’t have to stay.” I speak without turning to face Hermione.

“You’re always saying that to me.” She says and I can hear that she is still not happy with the way that I have chosen to deal with this situation. When I twist my body to lock our gazes though, she doesn’t show me any anger, only frustration over not being able to come up with a viable alternative. “One day you’ll learn I’m not going anywhere.”

I don’t know whether to thank her profusely or curse her into oblivion for those words. Never before have I had anyone to lean on in this way, only ever having enemies or dependents. It’s a feeling that I know I like but I am uneasy with becoming used to it, as when it is snatched from under my feet I am sure to fall. Instead I opt to nod in a neutral fashion and take a deep breath, pushing the feelings away to be analysed later and try to pull Ammy’s memory to the forefront of my mind.

I can picture it, that field of rice. I can feel the blossoms caressing my skin and smell the air fresher than one can imagine but I cannot feel the election these images once held. Closeting my eyes so tightly I can hear thunder in my ears I try to claw at the emotion, attempt to drag it into my being to no avail. In desperation I point my wand and speak the words to the Patronus Charm only to be met with nothing more than the echo of my own words, followed by a resounding breath of frustration.

“Last time you weren’t like this.” Hermione says from behind me, making me turn towards her with a questioning look. “You couldn’t find a memory before.”

“You noticed that?” I ask.

“Not at the time. I remember thinking that you’d managed to stubble on something but I didn’t know until today that it was Ammy’s memory, not yours.” She drops her temple into her waiting fingers letting her short nails scratch across her scalp in thought. Hermione may very well not approve of this method to pull Ammy forth from wherever she has chosen to hide herself but providing her with an intellectual problem does tend to have this effect. “If you want to recreate the events that made you aware of her you might have to go through the same process.”

This theory does not exactly fill me with confidence. “Whatever I tried before didn’t work. I don’t remember what they were.”

“I don’t think it needs to be exactly the same.” She says her eyes glazed still deep in thought. “Just the feeling. The frustration that you can’t find a happy enough memory, maybe it’ll drag one of hers to the surface again.”

“That’s a very good theory.” I praise and watch her attention snap back to me with a bright smile.

Most of my concentration goes to the grip on my wand as it begins to fidget. If she is correct then I must try to call a Patronus. Actually try, not just chose memories at random that I know will have no effect. Although having said that, would it really matter if I were to use one of my own memories? I don’t see how the form of my charm can change depending on the memory and the animal I call is the wolf inside me, the very same creature that Ammy inhabits, so either way I am calling her into this world, thus achieving the same end.

Surprisingly, considering this is the second time I have attempted this spell I find it far easier to recall things that have made me happy. Even if not truly, now that I understand the emotion more I can pinpoint further moments when I have felt it. Particularly in recent months.

Dale, Ginny, and Hermione all these people with their unconditional loyalty and fondness making me feel things that I had thought dead to me for so long. These reactions to such recent experiences all of which I had failed not notice until I stopped to pick them out and recall them in detail.

I pull memory after memory to the forefront, speaking the spell and one or two are potent enough to conjure a small beam of light but not the fury beast that I had been hoping for. At some point I fall into the natural rhythm, enjoying having a viable excused to relive some of the more pleasant moments of my past. I have no idea how long it is before I feel a tug at the back of my head and an image I’ve never seen before begins to take over my consciousness behind my eyelids.

Her memory invades me and even before it fully forms I feel its warmth. The sun is shining so brightly and I find it oddly fitting. People around dancing to a music that I cannot quite hear, the sound falling away into the background in favour of the joyous celebrations all around, woman in brightly coloured headdresses, coins dangling over their eyes and all around their crowns. Offerings of food held out in front of them in open palms.

Before I even utter the words, I know what I have managed to pull from deep within Ammy’s mind is powerful enough to bring her forth and I am not surprised to see her in front of me when I open my eyes. This time she is not snarling, not bearing her teeth, just sat on her hind legs. Her front paws angled perfectly to hold the pose and the strangest look of curiosity on her face.

“You.” I hear myself growl in an accusatory way. Watching Ammy’s ears shoot up and her eyebrows take on the form of worry. I take a step forward and Ammy has to push up her hind legs to take a corresponding step backwards. All of the second-hand happiness and joy I felt moments ago falling away, like shedding a second skin. Giving way to the pent up feelings of aggravation and powerlessness that her departure left behind days ago, needing an outlet and finally finding the correct entity to unleash my annoyance. “After all those weeks of constant bombardment, we finally start to get along. Just a little just enough to tolerate each other, then one question comes up, that you just decide I’m not ready to hear the answer to it.” Still I advance on the four-legged animal composed entirely of light and still she retreats. Looking around my imposing figure and presumably towards Hermione for some form of aid. “You just decided that and disappeared.” In a fit of anger I uncoil my arm and unleash a mild stunning curse in the direction of the animal. The spell is useless, considering I’m aiming at an entity comprised of nothing but light, but the loud yelp and the way that the wolf springs to the side to avoid the red jet does wonders for the pent up frustration I can feel in my chest. “So tell me how exactly does that make you better than me?”

“Jamie, perhaps this isn’t the best way.” Hermione begins to say, pressed as tightly to the wall as her frame will allow. I don’t smell her fear so can only assume that she is making every effort to stay out of the way as much as possible.

“Hermione, you don’t understand.” I turn my head towards her, knowing that I haven’t given her nearly enough information for her to fully comprehend. “If she had just told me, just given an inkling that the sunlight could heal me I wouldn’t have been so fucking stupid.” In an instant my sights are back on Ammy, ready to dive head first into another rant till the very moment I run out of breath or energy, whichever presents itself first.

Quicker than I could snap my fingers she understands exactly what it is I’m talking about and her hind legs begin to bend gaining momentum and I can see that she is about to pounce. “Don’t you…” I begin to speak but before I can finish all the power that has been building in her back legs has been released and she is sailing through the air. Nothing can stop her, her form slams into my chest with such force that I take back and the light that invades my vision is blinding. With a stumbling step back I catch my footing, brining my arm up to shield my eyes and uselessly finish my sentence. “Dare.”

Trying to let my eyes adjust to the rapid change in lighting I lower my arm but still have to squint so deeply that I can barely make out the nothingness that I know I am now surrounded by. Some forgotten, unused part of my mind, seemingly infinite in size and does pose the question why it is that I have no use for this space.

“You are either far more astute,” Ammy’s voice appears behind me and even in the midst of my blindness I am able to pinpoint her location. “Or far more determined, than I have ever given you credit for Human.”

“You’re only just learning that I’m stubborn.” I try to pull a mocking tone into my voice. Deeply annoyed that she had seen fit to keep her true identity from me and currently, not caring for the consequences of my words. “How long have you been in my head?”

“You know I cannot hear your thoughts.” Quickly my vision becomes blurred and what I see has me frowning. Not the fuzzy image of a beast as I had expected but an outline of something distinctly human in nature. “Truthfully, I think they might be far too numerous for me to bear.”

“I’m sure you’d survive, immortality tends to do that.” I reply.

She begins to laugh but somehow makes it sound lyrical, not her mocking tone she would usually take with such a sarcastic comment. “You’re species. So much to learn. Sometimes survival has nothing to do with living.”

With a shake of my head and a final deep blink I am able to rid myself of the dizziness enough to see a crisp outline of her. Before me stands a woman, not a wolf, not an animal but a beautiful woman, with soft flowing features and a long silky mane of deep black hair, dressed in a flowing, crisp white kimono. The single colour broken by a single strip of deep red cloth running from each side of her neck right down to the floor. I ignore her comment completely so enchanted by her appearance and openly run my eyes along her length, appraising every inch and eventually finding her eyes, filled with amusement. Such a deep brown you would swear they were black. “Is this what you look like?”

She takes a step back, opening her arms wide so I might have a better view. “This is a fair representation, yes.”

“Representation?” I repeat wondering if I had heard the contradiction in her voice or if I had only imagined it.

“Yes.” She says after a long pause, lightly touching long slender fingers to her temple. “So many years bring about, so many names and faces. It is easier to settle on one and this form at present, pleases me the most.”

Every so slightly awestruck with this new knowledge I have to buy myself time to process it by running a hand through my hair. “How many names?”

“Oh, countless.” Her hands come together and the long material covering her arms covers the appendages in their entirety. “In every faith you will find some attribute to me. Sometimes one, sometimes dozens. Then every spark of imagination brought about by the sun, all a piece of me.”

“So…” I feel myself frown, “you’re not just a sun goddess you’re all of them?”

“In its most simple form, you could describe it as that.” I feel my face stretch in a form of question, not wanting to halt her train of thought, so she might impart her knowledge upon me without my prodding. She sighs, long a deep looking around at the nothingness that surrounds us trying to order her speech. “Without us, many things that live upon this plane would cease to be. Everything of nature would be in chaos, the sun and moon rising and setting. The seasons coming and going as, and when they please. No structure to the world and as a consequence many things, if not all would perish. However, if not for the belief of the living, the immortal forces of nature could not exist.”

I know I must look confused, although I feel far from it. So ambivalent, I cannot decide if her words make perfect sense or if they are such utter lunacy that I should discard them and never ponder them again. “We keep each other alive?”

“Life is the burden of mortal beings but with so few alternative phrases, the comparison could be drawn.” She steps closer, now within arm’s reach watching me so intently. “Do you see now, why you must discover these things yourself?”

“No.” I answer instantly. If I’d had all of this information, so many things would be different. Things could have panned out better; I could have acted in a more mature fashion these past days. Why is she so incapable of seeing that?

“You could never have been ready for me to have just told you. Such impossible things, you’re belief would never have been enough. Before we could speak of this you had to already know.” I can see by the imploring look upon her face that she truly believes this. Not only that she wishes for me to understand. “When something is beyond reason it must also be beyond doubt.”

“But how was I supposed to discover something like this, without guidance?”

“You have, haven’t you?” Her deep eyes are locked on mine, not searching for something, not hunting for anything from me but trying to convey the depth of her feelings. “With such perseverance and patience it was only a matter of time but you had to find it by yourself.”

I run my palm over my mouth and lower jaw, trying to figure out when she knew this about me. Of my constant persistence, it must have been before she became part of my life otherwise what is the point? “It could have taken me years.” I point out, thinking about all the tiny details I had thought innocuous and only now with the gift of hindsight do I see how important they might have been.

“It didn’t.” She counters without even pausing for thought.

This line of questioning is beginning to make me feel like I’m working myself in circles. “How could you have possibly known that?”

“Simple.” She pauses; I can see the indecision as it works its way through her system. What she should say and what she shouldn’t. “It’s why you were chosen.”

Her words feel like a physical blow to the face and I have to force myself to take a step back, to keep myself from striking out in retaliation. “Chosen?”

I expect her to scramble about and try to remove that single word from my memory, to claw back at the air and pull it back between her teeth after such an adverse reaction. What I am not prepared for is for her to remain as still as a statue, holding my gaze and every ounce of my attention then speak a single word, “Yes.”

“You chose me for this?” The anger is back, like a blazing inferno coiling in my belly only to be unleashed throughout every muscle in an explosion. Questions I should have been asking but was far too distracted with the terms of her existence that they paled away into nothing, until now. “You made me into this thing, this animal for what? So you could meddle in the lives of mortal beings.”

The fires that are being stoked in my mind shine brightly in her eyes in an instant and she is stepping dangerously close to me, within striking distance and I am so tempted by it. To just uncoil and physically release my aggravation. “On two points you grossly misunderstand.” There it is, that animalistic growl laced through her voice. “Firstly, I would never have mattered what anyone did or said. You would always have been loured into that forest and you would always have been bitten.” She holds out her hand, her thumb pressed against her two foremost fingers in some strange gesture. “A fixed point in your fate that would always and must always come to pass. No man, no god, no demon could ever change that. What was not determined was whether or not you would survive.” Her pierced fingers pressed against her down breastplate. “My presence ensured that you would. So do not ever presume, Human that my purpose is only to make your life less tolerable.”

She turns away from me, pacing back and forth across the crisp white floor, clearly now in a foul mood over my assumptions. Although undoubtedly I feel chastised I in no way feel unjustified in my feelings towards this discovery. “Why me?”

“You were the perfect choice.” She voice is curt but I am happy to see some of the rage has melted away, forced away by the constant movement of her legs. “There was no way to spare you from lycanthropy and it gave me the opportunity to become one with you,” She holds out her arms wide to indicate the space around us. “In this way. There are so few things the human race rejects to such an extent, especially in the first few moments. It leaves a void, or a crack if you will in your psyche. It provided a rare incident when two entities can inhabit a single being.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Subconsciously I fold my arms across my chest, I can feel myself becoming unsettled and need to protect myself, in the only form that I currently have available to me. “Why me when there are hundreds of werewolves, in this country alone?”

“Yes, but none with your skills.” She does not give me the opportunity to question her, she advances, slowly one hand held out to each side. “You were able to exist in both, the light and the dark. Two completely opposing worlds and yet you were able to separate them. Inhabit both and have neither world feel the pains of the other. A delicate balance that so few can master, especially one so young but you did, for years.” Her eyes once more find my face and I see her expression fall slightly. “You still don’t understand do you?”

My teeth grind tightly together that I’m certain she can hear my jaw creaking. “No.”

Both of her palms come together and she presses her lips tightly against her joined fingers, looking down at our feet so deep in thought that I am confident that she cannot see them. “The human race will always fight.” She begins after a long pause. “Will always be drawn into war, over money, power, land, and sometimes just because two people truly believe that it is the right thing to do. So many times throughout history this happens, always making the same mistakes and so many times no one knows how close you came to irradiation.” I remain quiet, letting her finish her speech only letting myself swallow back something akin to fear that is beginning to rise up from deep inside of me. “I and others like me rely on your race to survive, so we cannot allow that to happen.”

“This is about the war?” I asked with a stunned expression on my face. For some reason I had always thought our conflicts on earth had been too trivial, too beneath the gods for them to ever take notice. Now I find myself with one standing before me, a deity I’ve never believed in telling me the exact opposite. Not only that but, the whole reasoning behind all she is saying is so obscure, so beyond comprehension that my head begins to spin. “You made sure I survived so I could fight in a war. I’m barely more than a child.”

She holds her hand out palm up in my direction to indicate my form. “Yet you still fight, even now with every breath. You fight for what you want, for what you need.”

“Everybody does that.” I reply.

She closes her eyes slowly as she heaves a sigh, pointing out that I am, in fact being difficult but to live with a goddess within my mind, possibly within my very soul, was never something that I had ever factored into my life’s plan and to be perfectly honest I am undecided on whether it is a positive thing to have happened to me or not. “To some extent yes but few with so much vigour, passion and effectiveness. You would give anything for the ones you love, your life, your happiness, everything you have to give and you will always do so in such a way that can potentially save lives.”

“Only of the people I care about.”

“Indirectly, because of how you do battle you could save hundreds more and their belief will keep us in existence. That is the one true purpose of my presence.” I watch as her eyes dart around my face and I am completely at a loss to what she must see. I know this is too much for me to fully appreciate when confronted with it in this way and I don’t know if my features would show my struggle or would remain blank in perplexity.

All of a sudden Ammy turn her head away from me, tilting her head to the side, listening to the still air all around us. At her change in posture I strain my ears, what could she possibly hear? Deep in this unused portion of my mind? As far as the eye can see there is only the bright nothingness but my ears catch something. Barely noticeable, hardly even there, an indistinguishable hum, strangely constant never pausing for breath or effect. “Our time grows short.” Ammy mutters and does not make it clear if this is for her benefit or for mine. “We must continue this later.”

“What is that noise?” I ask already beginning to feel my limbs become heavy and my lungs starting to stiffen.

She glances up at me for only a moment and the world around me begins to brighten still further, close to blinding once more. “Time. Catching up with us. As it must do for all things. I will be there when you awaken.”

I open my mouth to question her further but the bright flash that invades my vision has me stopping in my tracks and stumbling backwards. The back of my foot catching on a protruding crack in the floor and gravity does the rest, dragging me down onto my back. When I strike the floor it sounds hollow beneath me and knocks most of the air from my lungs.

Struggling to regain my breath I force my eyes open and after swiftly blinking back the effects of the bright lights I feel a frown tug at the sides of my eyes, somehow finding myself staring at the rafters at the high ceiling in the Room as Requirement. A heavy sense of déjà vu settling over me and pulling at a knot of fear deep in my belly.

The sound of running footsteps can be heard throughout the hollow flooring moments before Hermione’s hands settle to around my ears. Putting pressure on either side of my head in what I would imagine is an effort to keep it still should my meeting with Ammy once more throw me into a seizure. I am only mildly surprised to find that my senses are just as sensitive as they were before I called my Patronus.

Hermione face may appear in my sights upside-down from due to where she kneels upon the floor but still I can see the frown of worry that creases her brow. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” I answer, before I am completely convinced of that. My forearms press against the floor and push my torso up so I am in a better position to glance around the room. Waiting for something to happen, some unforeseen and painful consequences of calling upon a goddess to such an extent. “I feel fine.” I say once I have confirmed my initial statement then twist my upper body to look up and my companion. “How long was I out for?”

Instantly the confusion settles over her. “You weren’t.” She says slowly, not swayed entirely that I have suffered no ill effects. “You just fell.”

Ammy’s voice thunders through my head a moment later. ‘You are able to think a thousand thoughts in a single instant.’

My temple drops into my waiting palm, a deep sense of relief washing over me. Just to have her there, her ever observant eyes peeking out from behind mine. I honestly didn’t think I would miss it this much. “You’re back.” I whisper.

‘I did promise as much.’ That air of superiority is back in her voice and for the first time I truly understand why it was always nearby, only having to wait for the mocking tone that is sure to follow. ‘Although, it is a nice surprise to see you are happy about it.’

“Yeah, well…” I begin turning to push myself to my feet. “Just don’t get big headed over it.” When I look down at Hermione, still kneeling on the floor wearing an expression somewhere between elation and amusement I can help the slow cautious grin that I feel tugging at my lips. “What?”

She shakes her head, taking my outstretched hand up air in to her feet. “Sometimes you want to be so isolated but you like having a constant presence in your head.” She takes my face in her hands, my grin appearing to be contagious as it spreads across her face. “Sweetheart. You are nothing if not an oxymoron.”

I nod slowly, pushing a thoughtful expression across my eyes. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“I’m sure you will.” She says, pushing herself onto her toes to bestow me with a chaste kiss. “What happens now?” She says losing the jesting nature of our exchange in an instant. Reminding me that more serious matters still need to be addressed.

“Now.” I say, pulling out of her lose embrace and turning towards the door, scrubbing my fingers through my hair as I do. Hoping it might dislodge some spark of inspiration “Now I have to decide how we’re going to deal with this letter.”

‘Letter?’ Ammy asks in bewilderment. ‘What exactly has transpired in my absence?’

My palm finds the door knob just as I’m waving a dismissive hand across my own ear. “I’ll tell you later.”
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By The Light