The breath of our soul

Return with Panache

Another jolt shook the carriage slightly, Gideon's head hit the glass and he grunted, rubbing his eyes before pulling back. He shouldn't have done that. The teenager exhaled wearily as he could see the outline of Hogsmeade through the glass. He closed his fist slightly before regretting this simple action too. His body was still wracked with pain and he wasn't even touching the psychological aspect.

It had taken four men to get his grandfather off his back. Gideon had managed to land one or two blows, but it hadn't been enough to free himself. A heart-rending scream from his grandmother finally woke up his attacker, who rushed to her. The young wizard was hastily evacuated despite the disastrous situation, his brother having dragged him as far as possible to safety.

The two of them stayed in the family home, waiting for hours. Gideon had not even agreed to be looked after, waiting gravely until the doors of the manor house finally opened. Their father told them the grim news. Grandma had died. The two brothers cried until they had no energy left. The younger brother had been forced to seek treatment while Archibald told them what was planned for the funeral.

Unsurprisingly, Gideon had not been invited and the General had even threatened to kill him if he saw so much as a shadow of his former self. The ceremony took place in the early hours of the following day, to give family and friends time to come and pay their last respects. His father tearfully apologised for not being able to protect his young son from his own father's wrath. He apologised for not being able to give him the right to honour him one last time. He apologised for not being able to convince the General of their equality.

Grant had refused to attend the funeral at first but Gideon had begged him to go, arguing that the General would make him pay with his own life if he did not. Gideon didn't want to get beaten up again in such a short space of time. So he wisely stayed at the manor, waiting for it to happen, alone. When his family returned, he asked to go back to Hogwarts and no one dared to cross him.

"Hogwarts Station!"

He left his bunk without waiting, walking up the corridor before jumping onto the platform as lightly as his aching body would allow. The night was already well advanced, the coolness was strangely pleasant and he loved the smell of dampness. The Scottish Highlands, a rich and fertile land. His natural element. Looking for plant specimens would keep his mind occupied. It would take his mind off the fact that his family was going to have to fight the General for his grandmother's inheritance. Apparently, she had left something to Gideon and his father was going to have to fight for it. It was a fight that Gideon knew he'd never win, no matter what she left him. The more paltry it would be, the more his grandfather would cling to it.

"Mr Smith?"

He turned mechanically, able to admire Professor Weasley's decomposition in the face of her broken mouth. She brought a hand to her chest, her eyes widening in surprise as he felt embarrassed.

"Believe me, Professor, I've been through far worse.

_ Is it your family?

_My grandfather to be precise, he's still very reactive for his age, fortunately my brother and father were able to intervene before it was too late.

_ But... The teacher seemed at a loss for words.

_The Muggle world is not as forgiving as the wizarding world, Professor Weasley. My grandfather is not happy with my skin colour and his tolerance of my presence is very limited.

_Mr Smith, I'm going to write to the...

_Don't do anything. He's old and stupid, he'll die alone and that's probably the best revenge I can take on that bastard.