The Art of Peace

Chapter 6

To Forge a Path Anew

If we don't change the direction we are going, we are likely

to end up where we are heading.

- Chinese Saying

The next day, Harry got up and made their breakfast. It had become a ritual for the two to alternate making the meals every day. Due to his work at the Dursley's, Harry had become a passable cook, and Sifu had obviously picked up some talents of his own somewhere along the way as well. After breakfast, Sifu handed Harry a piece of paper.

"Here are some things you need to do today. I have a list of exercises that you should finish so you can make up for not working, and you can do your running tonight when I get back so you don't have to leave Claude alone."

"All right, is there anything else?"

"No, just do these exercises and I will talk to you tonight about what we will do about training you."

With that Sifu departed and Harry got down to business. He had a couple hours at the least before Claude awoke, so he could use that time for the continuation of his wandless studies. It made him nervous to do the training in the same house as someone who had no idea that magic existed, but it did not look like he had a choice. Giving up the training was not an option, and he could not just make Claude leave either. It would be a nerve-wracking few weeks until Claude's family came and claimed him, that was for sure.

While he was reading, he came across a chapter titled "Déguisements Magiques". It had many charms and spells for removing or hiding various physica attributes and blemishes. Much to Harry's surprise there was a section that was on hiding scars. In all of his years at Hogwarts he had never heard anything about being able to hide his scar, but as he was finding out, Hogwarts had left many things unmentioned. Reading over the words of the incantation necessary to remove the scar, he focused his mind. "Cachez la cicatrice de la vue, et laissez-la invisible," he intoned. Finishing, he went and looked in the mirror. Much to his delight, the scar had been removed from sight, and although he could still feel it, not many people would be touching his forehead, so that would not be a problem. According to the book the spell needed to be recast every day, but at least it worked. Feeling much safer now than before, an encouraged Harry turned back to his reading.

By the time Claude woke up it was mid-morning and Harry had completed his exercises. The boy walked slowly out of the common room where he had been sleeping into the bright light of the kitchen, rubbing his eyes sleepily. With a smile, Harry reached down and tousled the boy's hair.

"And how was your sleep?"

"Where am I?" came the confused voice.

"You don't remember? I'm Harry and you are staying here until your relative come for you."

"Is... Is Mommy not coming back then?"

Harry reached down and nervously took the distraught boy into his arms.

"No she won't be coming back. You need to be strong for her, ok? Everything will be ok."

"No, it won't be ok," a petulant voice answered him. "My Mommy is gone. It won't be ok."

"I know it's hard for you. Trust me though, you WILL be ok. My Mommy died too, so I know how you feel."

"Your Mommy died too? Did she turn red and sticky when she died too?"

"I was a baby so I don't remember, but she was killed too. A bad man came and got her just like they did yours."

"Did she go to Heaven?"

"Yes, and right now she is probably sitting there with your mother laughing at how silly we are being. Why don't we get you some breakfast, all right?"

"All right," Claude said, his young mind already starting to forget that just yesterday they had been strangers.

Harry marveled as he watched Claude devour his meal. It was obvious that he was sad, but he was holding up much better than Harry had ever expected him to. The only conclusion Harry could draw was that the shock was allowing him to forget most of the previous day's events and for this Harry was immensely grateful. It was hard enough for him knowing his parents were killed now that he was fifteen. He could not imagine what a child like Claude would feel. In a few days it would be brought home to him in a more meaningful way when his family came and got him, but for now he was grieving silently and less and less as the day wore on and more things came along to interest his curiosity.

For most of the rest of the afternoon, Harry split his time between playing games with Claude and working out with the exercises Sifu had given him. They were very difficult, but as they only continued what he had already been doing, they were not impossible. By the time he had finished the exercises Sifu had gotten home, and the three of them settled down for a quiet meal together, three of life's castoffs finding comfort in each other's presence.

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Sifu sat back with a smile, satisfied with a good meal and a good day's work. While he and Claude cleared the table, Harry left for his run. By the time he had returned, Sifu had finished the dishes and was as prepared as he could be for the training that lay ahead. Deciding to train Harry had been one of the most important decisions he had ever made. Ever since his break with his sensei over the proper usage of martial arts Sifu had been searching for meaning in life. Merely training day in and day out no longer satisfied him like it once had; he needed a purpose. The day in Calais when he had seen a boy willing to fight a gang rather than run had given him a reason for staying in the world, not hiding away as he once had. Despite the impeccable outer shell that exuded confidence and strength, it was obvious that Harry was troubled and lived in constant fear. Some of this had been explained when the owl appeared in their apartment, but that only encouraged him to take the boy in. He had spent his life training and studying various disciplines, knowing that one day he would pass his lessons on in turn. However, he had never really prepared for that day, content to learn from his master without actually learning how to teach. That fateful argument had changed all that. In a day he went from a student to a master, forced to take care of himself. Through all these new experiences came the knowledge that his life could end at any time, and with it the secrets that had passed down from generation to generation. The only problem was finding a suitable student; one who first, had the capability of learning, and second, could take what he learned and use it for good, not evil. Then he had met Harry. From the start he showed himself to have more than enough of the necessary intelligence. However, he needed to ensure that he would use what he learned well. Yesterday had shown that he would. To be willing to sacrifice himself for Claude and then to show the restraint in not permanently injuring two men who were obviously intent on killing him had shown his true nature, and this is what had led Sifu to his current position.

He was going to teach Harry the art of peace, and to do so he needed to remember the original training he had went through some twenty-five years earlier. Due to his earlier studies, Harry had already learned many of the basic meditation exercises and was in excellent physical condition. Sifu now needed to build on that foundation, enforcing what he already knew while introducing new techniques as soon as Harry could understand them and perform them well.

By the time Harry returned, sweating, but otherwise in good spirits, Sifu was ready. He had set up the living room as a makeshift dojo with a large open space in the middle. Once Harry was sitting down, Sifu gave him an introduction to his studies.

"There are many types of martial arts. In fact, the term "martial arts" can mean any number of activities, from fencing to boxing to training with guns in the military. Most of the time when you hear about the martial arts you think of the Oriental versions such as aikido, kung-fu, karate-do, and jujitsu. Some martial artists like Bruce Lee became very famous to those outside the community, but many of the greatest masters such as Gichin Funakoshi and Moerihei Ueshiba are unknown by anyone but a student of one of the styles. You could spend your whole life studying just one defensive form from just one of the styles and you would still have more to learn when you died. Studying the martial arts is not about learning new ways to kill someone; it is about learning who you are. Once you learn who you are you can do things you would have thought impossible. Many styles teach various forms with the object of making you a better competitor. Personally, I don't care if you can beat every other martial artist there is; if you can control yourself you are a master. I will teach you a variant of several styles, mostly a combination of aikido and Northern Shaolin Kung fu. Everything you go through in training I have done at one point or another in my own, so don't hesitate to ask any questions you might have. This will be much more informal than most dojos, mostly because you are my only student; and also because I don't think you should necessarily do something only because I say to, you need to understand it as well. The only formality I will be a stickler on is you calling me Sensei. It is a Japanese word that roughly translated means Teacher, and it is what you will refer to me as when we do your lessons, alright? Tonight we are only going to cover the very basics - etiquette and the horse stance should do. You ready?"

With that Sifu started working on bows and the horse stance. It was slow work, but by the time they were done Harry could properly execute a formal bow and settle into a correct horse stance. Sifu was a hard teacher, but he was fair and open to any questions Harry had, and the lessons passed quickly.

Before Harry knew it, it was Friday again. By day Sifu was working while Harry stayed with Claude, and by night Harry trained with Sifu. By the time the next Friday came around, life had once more settled into a routine with Claude as the new member of the family. However, this would not last, as they were expecting Claude's family that evening. The dinner was unusually quiet with all three of them a little tense about the upcoming meeting. At about seven, there came a knock at the door.

"I'll get it," Sifu said as he rose from his chair. "It's probably them."

He opened the door, revealing a middle-aged couple standing there.

"Hello, you must be Jean. I am Louis Marceau and this is my wife Marie. We are here for Claude."

"Yes, we've been expecting you," Sifu replied. "Won't you come in?"

The couple entered the room, taking in the interior with sharp-eyed glances that Harry found unnerving. Seeing them, Claude gave a start.

"They aren't my aunt and uncle!" he cried.

In a flash the Marceaus drew wands. Harry jumped with a start. 'Wizards, here? They couldn't know who he was, could they?'

"Don't move, either of you! These wands will kill you, stupid muggles," Louis snarled.

Harry's eyes narrowed. So they did not know who he was after all! Why were they here then?

"What do you want?" he asked.

"The boy, of course. He saw things he shouldn't have, and we are going to take care of it. Of course you know we can't let you leave now either. The Dark Lord will be pleased that this was so easy."

"The Dark Lord?" Sifu's voice asked.

"Yes, the Dark Lord. Don't worry, you will know his name soon enough. Or your neighbors will, I doubt you will be around to recognize it," Marie said with a laugh.

Harry was growing frightened. Sure, there were probably other "Dark Lords" running around, but this was more than likely Voldemort himself. But why did they want Claude? He had not said anything about magic. One thing was for sure though. They could not have Claude, and looking over at Sifu he saw they were in agreement. A nod was all it took for them to spring into action. Almost at the same time they leaped in opposite directions. Marie's wand swung to bear on Harry as he jumped, and a quickly muttered shield spell was all that stood between him and the shouted 'Crucio!' Sifu's leap, meanwhile, took him straight into the door jamb a few feet from Louis. As his foot connected a meter off the floor, Sifu spun, his kick driving the wind out of a shocked Louis as he tried to bring up his wand. The man fell backwards, his shoulders driving into Marie's knees. Seizing his chance, Harry sprang forward, driving an elbow into her throat. With scarcely a noise she toppled, the rattling in her throat sounding like she was at Death's door. Her husband screamed in rage, leaping at Harry with arm's out stretched. In response, Harry raised his hand.

"Stupefy!" he yelled. Without a word, Louis fell as well, leaving Harry and Sifu standing over two bodies for the second time in just over a week.

"Wizards?" Sifu asked.

"Yeah. These are the bad guys."

"I kind of figured that with the Dark Lord part. Is he the one..."

"Yes, they were probably talking about Voldemort, but I don't understand why he is here. He should be in England."

"Maybe he isn't here, and they are just some of his agents. If he is as powerful as you told me, he probably has his claws all over the world."

"True, but that doesn't make me feel any better. I guess I should try a memory charm on them. I've never done one before though, so I'm not making any promises."

"Wait a second. Are you saying that we shouldn't take them to the police? And what is a memory charm?"

"First, they are wizards, so no little cell will hold them, especially once their master finds out. Of course they will be dead then, Voldemort is not the easiest person to get along with. Second, a memory charm removes a certain amount of a person's short term memory. The only problem is I have only seen them done; I have never performed one myself. I might get it right and I might not, it's a chance I think we have to take."

"I guess I see your point. Well, go ahead, do it then."

Closing his eyes, Harry tried to remember how to use the 'Obliviate" spell. He knew it removed memory, but almost nothing more than that. Unfortunately, since he could not ask someone else to do it, he needed to do it himself and do it right the first time. He squatted down next to the two unconscious wizards. Shakily, he put his hand on Marie's head. He had no idea if distance did anything, but it made sense to get as close as possible. Visualizing Marie's mind as empty of memories, Harry cast the spell. There was no reaction, but there was no way to tell until they awoke, so he moved on to Louis, repeating his actions. With that they removed the two bodies to an alley behind the apartment, a shaken and quiet Claude creeping behind them. With the three of them hiding behind a corner, Marie and Louis began to stir.

"Where am I?" Louis asked, glancing at his wife. "And who are you?"

"What do you mean who am I! I wake up with a strange man and you ask who I am? Who are you and what have you done to me?"

"I've done nothing! Leave me alone, woman, you're touched!"

"Hah! You are too, obviously!"

And with that, the two of them went in opposite directions down the alley, not looking back. Laughing quietly, Harry and Sifu turned to go, taking the still dazed Claude with them. Once they reached the apartment, Claude turned to Harry.

"You're like them, aren't you," he said matter-of-factly.

"No, I am not like them. I can do magic, but no I am not evil like they are. Or were anyways, I doubt they know what they are now, I think I went a little overboard with that charm."

"You won't hurt me then?"

"Of course not! I'm a good wizard, Claude. Besides, who would I play with then?"

Claude smiled shyly. "I guess nobody. But you had better be nice to me, or I'll make Sifu hurt you!"

Both Harry and Sifu were laughing with him now. "Oh I'll remember that, don't worry!"