"Yonderly"

absent-minded, woolly-headed, or weak in body and spirit

2 May 1998

The air was heavy with expectation as Hogwarts' defenders readied themselves for conflict, and the courtyard was alive with frenetic activity. The horizon was dimly illuminated by the menacing red of far-off fires, while the sky above was a whirling crucible of black clouds. Like a general directing her army, Professor McGonagall stormed out of the Great Hall, her robes billowing behind her. Neville and Ginny stood on either side of her, their resolute faces reflecting hers, as Flitwick, Sprout, and many DA members trailed behind.

"Let me get this straight, Professor," Neville began, his voice tinged with incredulity as they descended the steps into the courtyard. "You're giving us permission to do this?"

McGonagall didn't break stride, her tone brisk but resolute. "That is correct, Longbottom."

"To blow it up? Boom?" Neville pressed, raising an eyebrow.

"Boom," McGonagall confirmed with a faint smirk.

"Wicked." Neville chuckled, then hesitated. "Um...exactly how do you propose we do this, Professor?"

McGonagall turned her sharp gaze toward Seamus, who had been trailing near the back. "Why don't you confer with Mr. Finnegan? As I recall, he has a particular proclivity for pyrotechnics."

All eyes shifted to Seamus, whose grin was both sheepish and wicked. "I can bring 'er down."

"Wicked," Neville muttered, his grin returning as he glanced at Ginny, who gave an approving nod.

"That's the spirit," McGonagall said briskly. "Now off you go."

As the group peeled off, Sprout and Flitwick stepped closer. The tiny Charms professor adjusted his hat, his expression grim. "You realize, of course, that nothing we do will be able to keep out You-Know-Who indefinitely."

"That doesn't mean we can't hold him up," Sprout replied firmly, her earth-toned robes swirling as she straightened her posture.

McGonagall's eyes hardened, her voice cutting through the rising tension. "And his name is Voldemort, Filius. You might as well use it. He's going to try to kill you either way."

Without waiting for a response, she raised her wand high, her voice ringing with authority. "Piertotum Locomotor!"

As the sculptures bordering the Great Hall came to life and their stone limbs creaked with age-old enchantment, the ground shook. The footsteps of armors, gargoyles, and knights echoed like an earthquake as they rushed by. With a glimmer of triumph in her eyes, McGonagall watched them leave.

"I've always wanted to use that spell," she murmured with a rare, sly grin. Molly Weasley, standing nearby, gave her a sidelong glance but said nothing.

The moment was interrupted by the appearance of fresh figures. In quick succession, aurors with coats emblazoned with crests and sigils from nations throughout Europe and beyond started to appear in the courtyard. 

The Glorious Ashryver Crest, however, was the only crest that was emblazoned on the back of their jackets.

The family crest is a round symbol with a polished gold stylized A in the middle. The letter is surrounded by an elaborate silver laurel wreath and set inside a deep navy field. The A has a modern yet noble appearance because of the subtle geometric motifs that radiate away from it. Vigilance and honour are symbolized by the delicate outline of a griffin, with its wings slightly spread, carved above the crest. The design exudes sophistication and is simple yet majestic.

"Where do you want us?" a clear voice called. Elaine, flanked by several more Aurors, approached McGonagall. Her Ashryver sigil glinted in the faint light.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "And who are you?"

"I'm Elaine, Athena's second," she replied smoothly. "It would take too long to explain, but Athena meant a lot to us. This school meant a lot to her."

More Aurors appeared, their coats emblazoned with the same sigil. Ada stepped forward, glancing around before addressing McGonagall. "Someone sent the time and place in her name."

"Ashryver's allies," murmured Flitwick, his gaze sweeping over the growing crowd.

The air shifted as Camille's commanding voice rang out, cutting through the din. "You defied direct orders!"

Elaine stiffened, turning to meet her sister's glare. "Camille—"

"Do you think I want to lose more people? My sons?!" Camille's voice cracked, her fury tempered by grief.

Chloe appeared beside her, her calm presence like a balm. "Cami, you know deep down you couldn't have stopped us. We all wanted revenge for your daughter."

"Especially your sons," Ines added softly, placing a hand on Camille's shoulder. The older woman hesitated, her eyes darting to the gathering Aurors. She sighed, her resolve wavering.

"Minister," Kaguya greeted, her arm wrapped protectively around Jodie as they joined the group.

"Princess," Camille replied with a respectful nod.

Jodie ordered, "Listen to the professors and prepare to hold the line!"

The Ashryver crest was unmistakable, its presence sparking whispers among the defenders. Even Fleur was caught off guard as she turned to face Camille. "You're here?"

"Darling," Camille replied, her voice softer now. "What are you doing here?"

Fleur's expression hardened with determination. "The little boy needs our help. Athena would come to his rescue in a heartbeat."

Camille nodded slowly, her gaze shifting to the horizon. "Then we'll stand with them."

— | —

Faint streams of moonlight filtered through the large windows, creating a delicate cloud of dust swirling in the poorly lighted room. The polished wood floors and the rows of bookshelves containing old books with broken and torn leather spines were dotted with shadows. Memories hung heavy and bittersweet in the air, haunting every nook and cranny like spectres.

As they entered Athena's old office, Regulus whispered, "This is a bad idea," in a quiet, wary voice. His keen eyes darted around, looking for danger—or maybe for the guts to face whatever lay ahead. "Out of respect, it might now be someone else's office, left undisturbed."

With a look that was both mysterious and laced with a pain that seemed to throb in the air around her, Athena's eyes swept across the room. She whispered, her voice just above a whisper, "I meant more to these people than I anticipated."

With his arms folded, Regulus's voice became more composed. "You were absent for several months. Every item in this room has accumulated dust.

Athena pointed to the spotless desk and chair in the middle of the room and laughed softly and without humour. Everything but my chair and desk. Gods, how many people have come here to grieve for me?

Regulus said, "I'd assume too many," but his gaze softened as he looked at her.

With her fingertips brushing the chair's high back, Athena walked toward it, her footsteps echoing softly. Her voice cracked with a twinge of shame as she exhaled, "Godric, my wife...she took my coat."

"How would you know?"

"She loves my scent more than anyone else's in my family."

After a brief moment of hesitation, Regulus moved in closer and touched her shoulder. As she gazed at the chair, he grounded her with a solid yet compassionate hand. He said cautiously, "Athena, why are we here? What are you trying to find?

Athena's eyes narrowed as she mumbled a gentle incantation under her breath and turned to face the wall in front of her. After she flicked her wrist, the wall glistened for a moment before disappearing to reveal a secret alcove. A griffin stood there, big and majestic, its golden feathers shining dimly in the darkness.

"Hello, sweet boy," Athena whispered, stepping forward with an uncharacteristically tender smile.

Regulus froze, his jaw slack as he stared at the creature. "A...a Griffin?!"

Athena chuckled softly, resting her forehead against the creature's noble head. "I could handle a dragon if I had to, but this one...he's fond of me."

Regulus took a tentative step closer, his astonishment etched deeply into his features. "Athena," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "How in Merlin's name do you have a Griffin?"

Athena smirked, scratching the Griffin's neck affectionately. "He's an old friend. Loyal to the end." She glanced at the creature, her voice softening. "Now, now. He's my uncle, sweet boy."

Before Regulus could respond, a shrill siren pierced the quiet, followed by crimson lights flashing around the room. The once-serene atmosphere dissolved into urgency as the security measures roared to life.

"What's that?" Regulus demanded, his wand already in hand.

Athena remained calm, turning her attention to the Griffin. "They think we're intruders."

Regulus groaned. "And how, exactly, are we getting out of here?"

Athena pointed upward, where a gleaming silver trinket hung suspended from the ceiling. "There's a portkey. Up there. Hop on."

Regulus blinked, glancing between the portkey and the Griffin. "You're serious?"

Athena smirked, hoisting herself gracefully onto the griffin's back. "Thank you for staying so calm, Uncle."

Regulus sighed, muttering under his breath as he climbed on behind her. "Always."

— | —