Illusory § Order of the Phoenix

XI. MAKE THEM SEE

It made Antares worried.

During this long week away, Marissa explained everything— the Circle, the Augurs, painting the very picture of their ancestral blood. He discovered that he wasn't alone in his abilities and that the people he grew up around his whole life would be the ones to help him. The hallucinations, or visions, were no longer a burden; it was a purpose, a calling.

Nicholas Caverly, an older seer, was the one to deduce that Antares was able to "see" through touch. Caverly's visions manifested through eye contact, making it difficult for him to maintain normal relationships. Antares also learned that Lucas Eldine, Cole's father, is also a seer and would go into a trance-like state of daydreaming when he had visions. Lucas went on to explain that his gift of foresight was why he had a difficult time raising Cole. And while Antares could sympathize, he didn't mind. He got a brother out of it.

Antares made quick work of assembling a list of supplies he would need. He had all of his old school books, from first to seventh year, neatly stacked on a single-row bookshelf. Later, he would place a shrinking charm on it so it would fit in his luggage.

He should probably tell Harry that he won't be joining him on the train to Hogwarts. As faculty, Antares needed to be there for final preparation before classes started. Not to mention, there was also a staff meeting he was required to attend.

As he thumbed through the rest of his belongings, a knock on the parted bedroom door caught his attention.

"Come in," Antares called, not bothering to greet whomever it was.

Hermione and Ginny entered the room, exchanging glances before addressing Antares. They both looked anxious, Ginny less so, as if they were hesitant to approach him.

"Antares, we need to talk to you," Hermione began, her tone earnest.

Antares straightened his back, setting aside the assortment of quills he was organizing. "About what exactly?"

Ginny stepped forward, her expression slightly exasperated. "It's Harry," she said bluntly. "He's been sulking ever since our Hogwarts letters arrived. It's sad, really."

The older boy quirked an eyebrow. "And what am I supposed to do about it?"

Antares leaned against the ornate bedframe, folding his arms across his chest. He observed Ginny and Hermione with a sharp expression, waiting for them to continue.

Ginny huffed, exchanging a brief glance with Hermione.

"We thought maybe you could talk to him," Hermione pleaded. "You two have a connection, and he might open up to you."

"A connection," Antares repeated, his voice mocking.

"He's barely talked to anyone around here since the trial," Ginny revealed. "For some daft reason, he trusts you of all people."

Harry barely knew him, and it's not as if they've had riveting conversations either. Antares had never made a conscious effort to befriend Harry. In fact, he had intentionally kept his distance.

"She's not lying," Hermione agreed. "Harry does trust you."

"Says you," Antares scoffed.

"Says Harry," Ginny said adamantly.

"Look, I appreciate your faith in me," Antares exhaled, "but I don't know what you expect me to do. I'm not a therapist."

"I didn't realize being a decent human being required a Ph.D.," Ginny sneered.

"How do you know what a Ph.D. is?" the Slytherin retorted.

"We're not asking you to solve his problems," Hermione interrupted patiently. "We were just hoping that you could get him to talk."