CHAPTER FOUR. . .
His Odyssey

"So, surrender to sleep at last. What a misery, keeping watch through the night, wide awake - you'll soon come up from under all your troubles."
Homer, The Odyssey

Under the cover of darkness, August slips through the corridors of Hogwarts, hand in hand with Lily. With everybody else asleep safely in their beds, they dare to roam-to spring from the stone floors in a joyful curvet at the absence of teachers and students. August and Lily's destination the Ravenclaw common room lays ahead of them. The night air is still, quiet and soft laughter hangs comfortably in the air between August and Lily as the former raps his knuckles against the common room door delicately.

Malia opens it, pressing a finger to her mouth in a shushing moment. "Quiet! Do you know how many people are up right now studying?"

August covers a snort with a cough, pulling the sleeves of his Gryffindor jumper over his bruised knuckles, and the mischievous glint in his eyes causes Malia to roll her eyes. She pins him with an exasperated glare as she closes the door behind her and slips into the corridor.

The simple grin that August throws in her direction sends Malia into a fit of light giggles, and she follows him and Lily down the hallway into the Transfiguration Courtyard. The Marauders, as they call themselves, are stood in the shifting air, the Autumn breeze causing them to shiver slightly as they crowd around each other. Sirius looks up from a piece of paper clutched in his gloved hands to the group of approaching friends, before looking back down. He whispers something to his friends, flashing August, Malia and Lily a smile as they approach.

Slipping into the group, August waggles his eyebrows. "Are we ready for the best night of our lives?"

"I was born ready." Sirius replies, slinging an arm over August's shoulder. "The question is, are you?"

August slants him a shining smile, wrapping his own arm around Sirius' waist. They look to the rest of the group, finding their eyes already on them. August locks eyes with Lily who raises her eyebrows. He simply raises his hand, once again linking their fingers, and stretches it across her shoulders as his other arm slips from Sirius' waist. That arm he offers to Malia, who shakes her had as his arm rest around her shoulders.

Sirius almost frowns at the missing contact but catches himself, rubbing the back of his neck before he curses in realisation. "Uh, did anybody choose where we're going?"

As he scans the group, each person shakes their head, all looking towards August.

"This was your idea, Darlington." Malia says, tugging at a stray curl around his temple. "You choose."

August's expression pinches, and his forehead creases in thought. Silence grasps it's place in the air with an iron fist; the peace broken every few moments by the shrill cry of the Forbidden Forest's creatures, and the shuffling of tiring feet.

Lily sighs, and presses her thumb into the creases of August's forehead to smooth them out. "Don't hurt yourself by thinking so hard."

"Shut up." August bats away her hand. He huffs when once again everyone is looking to him. "I have no idea where we could go."

Complaints are immediately launched in August's direction, and the brunet holds his hands to the air in mock surrender. "I'm sorry! I honestly didn't think any of you would agree, so I never got this far in the planning."

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Lily shakes her head in exasperated disappointment. She smacks away August's hand as he moves to pinch her cheek.

"Don't look at me like that, Lils." August says cheekily, his lips pulling into an exaggerated pout. "You're going to break my fragile heart."

"Your stupidity warrants this look." Lily shoots back.

August feigns a frown, flicking her furrowed forehead before looking back to the group. "Anyone else have any ideas?"

"Hey guys. . ." Peter breaks through the tense air slowly, looking between his friends. "What about the Room?"

"What room?" August asks in confusion.

"You're a genius, Wormtail!" James catches on excitedly, shaking Sirius's arm. "The Room of Requirement! How did we not think of that sooner?"

"Because you're-"

"Don't finish that sentence, Evans." August cuts in, slapping a hand over her mouth. "Play nice."

His nose crinkles as Lily huffs, and her warm breath slips through August's fingers before she pries his tanned fingers from her face. August looks back to Sirius, eyes locking on his.

"So, what's this room?" Malia inquires.

"The Room of Requirement is a secret part of the castle that presents in whatever form you require. Nobody could possibly find us there." Remus explains as August's gaze shifts to rest on him. "And we'd have everything we need."

August steps towards the castle, an arm outstretched towards the entry with a grin. "Lead the way."

The group weaves their way through the cold, echoing halls of Hogwarts. Not once are they captured by the prying eyes of ghosts or staff as laughter drips from their mouths and curls around their ears warmly. Words, jokes and jests are exchanged as Remus leads the way with what seems to be a strange map in hand. August doesn't question it, focusing on placing one foot in front of the either and not letting them drag him to Sirius' side. When Remus leads them to an empty hallway with no door in sight, he'll admit, that is when his doubts surfaced.

"Is anybody seeing a room?" August says into the silence. "Because I'm not seeing a room. . ."

Malia groans, and throws out a hand, slapping it lightly against his arm. "Shut up, they wouldn't lead us here for nothing."

"I'm just saying." August grumbles in response. Shuffling his feet, he moves away from Malia and crosses his arm, eyebrows raised in interest as Remus paces twice times in front of a wall, muttering under his breath. "You right there, mate?"

August watches as Remus paces the length of the wall the third time, the wall begins to distort-bricks shift and shapes begin to carves themselves into the stone, finally revealing itself to be a large wooden door with metal mechanisms curling around the panels like ivy.

Remus stands beside him with a smile, dropping a hand onto August's shoulder and squeezing. "Trust the process, Darlington."

"I won't ever question you again." August replies.

A chuckle spills from Remus' lips as he shakes his head. Quietly, Remus pushes open the grand door, and he steps back, gesturing for August to enter first.

August steps forward with an eager, tracing a finger over the metal detailing. He shakes out his shoulders, wave of comforting warmth seeping through his skin and into his marble bones as he steps into the light. August can't help how his mouth drops in wondrous surprise as it's revealed-a great expanse of bookshelves line the walls, and at the base of the room, a crackling fire lights the surroundings in an warm, orange glow. August steps in carefully, hand leaving the cool door and attaching itself to the bookshelves. His finger hits each and every spine as he walks. Surveying the red velvet couches placed in front of the fire, he realises they share a likeness to the ones in the Gryffindor common room. August tucks his chin on his shoulder as he looks behind him, the group slowly trickling unsurely into the strange room.

"Wicked. . ." Malia trails off in awe.

The door closes behind them unprompted, causing August's head to snap back in surprise before he turns back to the bookshelves.

Peter nervously looks to the books stacked within the bookshelves. "Do I have to read?"

"Course not." Malia says comfortingly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and squeezing. "Maybe you could act as our scribe? Somebody needs to write down all the ideas."

Peter nods, looking more confident as Malia's arm drops from his shoulders and he straightens his back.

August pulls his satchel off his body, and his eye catches a book stuffed into it's large pocket-one that he did not put there. Flickering with curiosity, August takes it from his bag and opens the front cover. A small piece of parchment slips from between it's pages and into his hand. He pulls it apart to read it's contents:

If the Dead Poets Society is going to begin again, you must each be sworn in with the original text. Enjoy.

August recognises Keating's handwriting from all his time staring at the Muggle Studies blackboard. Carefully, he tucks the parchment back into the book and flicks to the first page. August spies a stray cigarette packet at the bottom of his bag, and ignoring Lily's look of disapproval he pulls one from the packet lighting it with a flick of his wand.

August clears his throat to gain the attention of the rest of the group. Sirius moves to his side, looking over his shoulder. August skin tingles at his hot breath pooling on his shoulder, seeping through his sweater. Together, they stand in front of the fire, and bring the meeting to it's beginnings..

"I hereby reconvene the Dead Poets Society." August starts loudly with a crooked smile. He takes a drag of his cigarette before continuing. "The meetings will be conducted by myself and the other new initiates now present. Peter Pettigrew, because he prefers not to read, will record the ideas of the meetings."

August passes the book to Sirius, gesturing for him to read.

"I will now read the traditional opening message by society member Henry David Thoreau: I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life. . ." Sirius reads out confidently. He looks to August for a moment, and time slows as their eyes connect. He clears his throat, continuing the quote. ". . .To put to rout all that was not life, and not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived."

James whistles from his place on the couch beside Remus who claps his hands in dramatic applause.

"There's heaps of different poems here, Keating's marked a bunch of other pages." August says, looking to his bag. "I've bought a text of my own too."

"Unsurprising." Malia comments, with a joking smile. "Of course, he's got the book for the meeting but not the place. Well done, Darlington."

"I didn't come here for judgement, Anderson." August bats, playing along. "At least I brought something. You have nothing."

"My presence is gift enough." Malia says matter-of-factly.

"It's fine, August, I appreciate your efforts, even if others don't." Sirius says, slinging an arm around his shoulder.

August pouts. But the moment Sirius flashes him a shining smile, it disappears-he can't quite help the way the corner of his lips lift to the ceiling, and a warm, golden feeling explodes within his chest.

"Alright, intermission." James breaks the moment. "Dig deep right here. Right here, lay it down."

Nobody in the group moves, each with nothing to pull out of their pockets. Food hadn't been on their mind during the quick preparation for the Dead Poets Society.

"You're telling me, none of you brought snacks?!" James sputters shrilly.

Mumbles fill the air at James sputtering. Lily crosses her arms, unimpressed.

"Sorry, Prongs." Remus apologises. "I ran out."

"I forgot." Peter replies.

"I brought the book, I thought someone else would bring the snacks." August interjects.

"Well, you didn't, why should we?" Malia says.

"Next time somebody should go to the Kitchens beforehand." Remus suggests. "Each week it can be a new persons turn."

Everyone nods in agreement, and once again August clears his throat.

"Anybody volunteering to begin or shall I?" He asks.

Silence follows his words for a few moments before James raises his hand. "I'll I know is this ghost story."

August's curiosity peaks. "I want to hear this."

"OK. . ." James clears his throat, taking August's place in front of the fire as the boy flops onto the couch next to Sirius. "It was a dark and rainy night, and this old lady, who had a passion for jigsaw puzzles, sat by herself in her house at her table to complete a new jigsaw puzzle. . ." He pauses as the fire dims for a moment-the shadows of it's light dancing on the walls.

"But as she pieced the puzzle together, she realised, to her astonishment, that the image that was formed was her very own room. And the figure in the centre of the puzzle, as she completed it, was herself. And with trembling hands, she placed the last four pieces and stared in horror at the face of a demented madman at the window. . ." He continues, and the fire flares up again. "The last thing that this old lady ever heard was the sound of breaking glass."

Politely, the group claps and James dramatically bows, basking in the attention. August takes another drag of his cigarette, passing it to Sirius as he holds out his hand.

"I've got one too." Malia says. "But I'm not standing."

"Out with it." Lily eggs on, amused by the notion of ghost stories.

"There's a young, married couple, and they're driving through the forest at night on a long trip. And they run out of gas, and there's a madman on the-"

Lily cuts her off excitedly. "Oh! The thing with the hand-"

"Yes, and the thing with the window!" Malia continues.

"You know, it might be nice for the rest of us to hear it." Remus muses humorously.

Malia opens her mouth, and closes it again. "I can't tell it now."

Groans ring through the room. August takes that as a cue to begin after handing his cigarette to Sirius once again.

"I'll start the reading with The Odyssey then. But first we're going to discuss why." He says.

"What do you think The Odyssey will provide us with?" Lily asks, the first to prompt discussion after a few moments of silence. "The poem is hundreds of years old; meaning from a very different time."

"You'd be surprised." August replies. He sighs, letting his hands and the book rest against his thighs in an attempt to order his thoughts. "Like you said it's from a very different time, so by reading this we can gain an understanding of those different times. Their beliefs, stories, mistakes and attributes-what they value. The Odyssey offers insight to the burning desire to just be home, the aftermath of war, cunning, courage and bravery in the midst of trouble, and Gods and mortals battling for glory and their reputations. Since without Greek stories and theatre we wouldn't have a lot of the stories we have today, it means we get a look into how our heroes in their original form were born."

Lily nods thoughtfully. "Makes sense." She gestures to him. "Well, get to it."

"Right." August scrambles to his feet, snagging his feet and stands in front of the fire. "We'll start from the beginning: Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns. . . driven time and again off course, once he had plundered the hallowed heights of Troy. . ."

That night August arrives in his room to another letter resting on his pillow, and Leonardo sitting on his windowsill, waving his wings in the breeze. This time, he doesn't wait before holding the letter over the heat of a flame, and letting it fade into ash.

☾☾☾

After the first two weeks of successful Dead Poets Society meetings, August finds himself in better spirits than the start of the month, as another week of September passes for him in a flash. And soon, August finds himself nearing the end of its completion. With Quidditch tryouts ahead of him for the day, he holds his broom in hand and trails blindly behind Sirius and James who eagerly move through the groups of students towards the Quidditch Pitch.

A group of students wait outside the tent as they approach, eagerly flocking James to get a word in before the tryouts actually begin. Sirius and August split from James, heading into the tent while he deals with the younger students

"I almost feel bad for leaving him." August says with a chuckle.

Sirius laughs. "He'll be fine. Come on, I see Malia and Lily in the stands with Remus."

"Where's Peter?" August asks, not spying the shorter boy anywhere. "I don't see him."

"He's got tutoring with McGonagall." Sirius explains as they walk the sides of the Pitch.

When he comes to a stop, August doesn't notice, banging into his shoulder rather than stopping himself. His gaze flickers from adjusting his Quidditch uniform to the approaching Slytherin Quidditch team, and his cracked lips curl into a sneer.

"What are they doing here?" He asks venomously.

"They must have had their tryouts." Sirius replies under his breath. He looks to August, his gaze laced with intensity. "Don't do anything stupid, not before tryouts."

August grunts. "I don't make any promises."

Theodora Darlington's figure amongst the group is a blow to August's fragile mentality-a stone weighing down on his chest like the world on Atlas' shoulders. Breathing in deeply to find some semblance of balance, his knuckles turn white as his grip tightens on his broom. August chokes on a breath, and he forces his gaze to flick over Hamish McLaggen and his arrogant grin. It skips to Richard Parkinson's form as the Slytherin Quidditch Captain approaches the two Gryffindors.

Sirius remains still beside August, his expression a mask of tense indifference. His younger brother steps forward with Theodora, but he remains still. Sirius greets Richard with a nod.

"Darlington. I hear you're doing well, keeping out of trouble." Parkinson slants him a mocking grin- riddled with insincerity, and the promise of trouble.

"Parkinson." August grits out in acknowledgement. His gut churns, swelling with unchecked anger that has been begging to be released since his first altercation with McLaggen. "McLaggen."

Sirius moves his hand in front of him to keep him back. "Is there anything we can do for you?"

"Just passing through." McLaggen remarks, stare fixed on an ignited August. "We had our tryouts, gained ourself a team that will wipe the floor with Gryffindor."

"Now, now." Parkinson tuts. "They've yet to have theirs Hamish, and we want a fair game. There's no fun when it's too easy."

"Just you fucking wait." August says hotly. "Slytherin doesn't know what's coming."

"August." Theodora cuts in, stepping toward her older brother.

"Theo." August replies, matching her tone.

Theodora purses her lips, eyebrows furrowing as she gives him a look. Step back before you get yourself hurt or do something you'll regret, it reads. And for once, he takes the warning. She looks to Parkinson.

"Back off, Parkinson, it isn't worth it." She says. "I want my brother without bruises, and so will our Mother."

"Scared I'll break him?" Parkinson jeers.

Theodora raises an eyebrow. "It isn't him that I'm worried about."

On his way out of the stadium, Parkinson knocks shoulders with Sirius; the rest of his team other than Theodora follows.

When did his little sister get so big? August asks himself. Without another word, she moves away, but he feels the faint squeeze of her hand on his own as she walks. August smiles-lip curled and eyes shining with pride.

Sirius sighs, turning to August. "Come on, time for tryouts."

August follows in silence.

authors note:

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