Harry Potter and the Children of the Clan

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

It was true to say that the table was round. It was equally true to say that this was definitely not Camelot. By some trick of the light, or perhaps it was the light of some trick, the occupants of the twelve large high backed chairs were unrecognizable in the gloom. But they could be heard.

"The current situation appears...unsettled," the first voice observed.

"Truly, it has not proceeded as anticipated," offered a second.

"Why is this so?" queried a third.

"Largely it can be blamed on the inadequacies of our instruments. They lack sufficient intelligence, imagination and resolve. They have been provided with necessary planning and resources but have yet to fullfill a single objective," the first replied.

"Is that indeed the case?" countered a fourth. "Was it not the intention of the operation in the mountains to draw a response so that we could gauge the effectiveness of those likely to resist?"

"Indeed it was, but it was also expected that heavy losses were to be suffered by both sides" the first said. "And to seize their leader. Instead only our instruments suffered heavily, and their leader escaped our trap with the aid of one of the great ones."

"The possibility of such assistance was suggested," the second interjected.

"So it was. And now we have two more slain with simple stone projectiles. Was this also suggested?" the first countered testily.

No voice offered a response.

"It has been far too long since the surface world was ours. It will be again. This will be," the first said, reciting it as if it was a mantra.

Far away, in many respects, from where this discussion was taking place, the 'leader' was dealing with issues of his own. Harry Potter stood outside the door of his eldest son's bedroom. It was Sunday evening, the day after James' encounter with the witches and wizards in the forest. It had been a difficult day for Harry. First, dealing with the still angry mother, then the questions of Deputy Chief Milligan, and finally with an incensed Aunt Fleur.

James had returned home early in the afternoon escorted by his father but nothing had been said and Harry chose not to intrude. But now he felt it was time for a father son talk. He knocked on the door.

"James? It's your father."

"Come in, Da."

Harry pushed the door open and found his son sitting on his bed, looking out the window. As Harry approached, the boy looked around at his father, his eyes sad. Harry sat in the only chair in the room.  

"Care to discuss it?"

The boy shrugged and said,

"I dunno. What's there to talk about? It won't change what happened, will it?" James asked.

"No, but it might change how you're feeling about it. It's helped me in the past, just ask your Aunt Fleur."

James looked back out the window and sighed loudly.

"I didn't think it would be like this, Da. I thought it would be about being outside, seeing new stuff, all that kind of thing. Not killing people."

"You had no reason to think it would be like this, son. But if it helps at all, Ronin said you handled yourself very well," Harry offered.

"Maybe. Passing out after leaving my breakfast all over the bushes must have really impressed him," James said.

"Perhaps not, but risking yourself to save him certainly did."