Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Our story begins in a perfectly normal suburb of Great Britain, where perfectly normal occurrences happen every day. Some would say that such normalcy was in and of itself extraordinary in its existence, as nothing truly normal ever occurs with such regularity. Normally, they would be correct; however, no one knows of the deep secret that one particular family of residents holds—a secret that more than makes up for all the normalcy around it.

You see, the Dursley family of number four, Privet Drive, had a secret they hoped their neighbors never learned: their nephew, Harry Potter, was a wizard. Indeed it was the greatest fear of Vernon and Petunia Dursley that their obstinately normal neighbors ever found out about their nephew and his abnormalities

The fact they hadn't been found out yet Mister and missus durley considered a miracle. For their nephew was not just any wizard. Several times, Petunia Dursley was stopped on the street while she had Harry out shopping, making him carry her bags. The boy had been called the Boy Who Lived by several strangers wearing very strange outfits.

____________________________________

Petunia Dursley sat in her favorite chair in the sitting room, angled just so she could look at and spy on the neighbors across the street. She sat there and reflected on the last year. "That boy went off to that strange school and came back even odder than before," she sighed out regretfully. The first couple weeks the boy was back were quiet, but last night there had been a massive fight between Harry and her husband, Vernon. Apparently, the boy had gained some courage while at school.

Vernon had hit the boy on the head with a bat, she had never agreed with Vernon's more physical proclivities toward her nephew, not that she could ever bring herself to correct the behavior. In response to the abuse Harry normally shut down, he would try to defend his head but that's it, this time Harry had gotten so angry he did something that he hadn't done since he was very small; he reacted. Harry bunched up his small muscles and looked like he was about to spring at Vernon before he froze and hissed something loudly, and a small silver-green snake had popped up from the collar of those horrid robes he so proudly wore. Her husband, her great and loving husband, fell right over, stiff as a statue. The boy had gathered his things and ran from the house, still hissing angrily at the snake. Petunia had not reacted after that. She stayed there frozen, clutching her hands to her face until a man claiming to be from the "Accidental Magical Reversal Squad" from the Ministry of Magic came and poured a strange colored liquid down her husband's throat that made him go limp and start breathing again. It was then that she realized the man had been talking to her. Focusing back on him and his words, the man explained, "Odd for that too. I don't know how the boy came across one, not to mention making it his familiar." "Excuse me." Petunia interrupted then. "I'm sorry. I was afraid I was lost in thought. Could you repeat that, and who are you again?"

"Oh, no worries," the man said.

"My name is Martin Abbott, and I'm with the Accidental Magical Reversal Squad. I was just saying that it's a good thing young Harry went and performed a bit of magic to call us here, or your husband would be in dire trouble. Petrification isn't something that goes away with time, you know. In fact, it's not something our department normally has to deal with. Normally it's the magical creatures department that has this sort of thing, but it's easy enough to counteract." He held up the bottle for her to see. "The Mandrake Restorative Draught, standard in our kit in case we have to heal anyone after accidental magic it's a very potent healing potion aside from curing petrification. In fact when your husband wakes up he'll be healthier than he's been in years" The man took a moment to let Petunia process what she was sure he thought was a long list of strange words to her. "Right, and then what were you saying as I realized you were speaking to me?”

"Oh!” he said. “Well, I said that I was just flabbergasted as to how an 11-year-old had gotten ahold of an actual basilisk, let alone tamed it enough for it to be his familiar—Parseltongue or not. You see, ma’am, basilisks are among the most rare, intelligent, and deadly creatures known to magic. Normally, I’d have to confiscate it, but as there is a familiar bond between them, it'll take the action of the Wizengamot to remove it now.”

Petunia sat in her chair, deep in thought, and then stood abruptly and moved to stand in front of her husband in front of the TV. “I want that little freak out of this house. He is too dangerous to be around Dudley. But, I know who is in charge of him in his world, and if we’re going to get rid of him, we’re going to have to help him get away from the old man as well.” Vernon shook his head blankley agreeing with his wife.

Petunia held up a packet of information about how to reach the Ministry of Magic via “Muggle” means. “Tomorrow, Vernon, we are going to set up an appointment, and we will help get that boy emancipated and out of our lives for good.

A/N

This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction, or just writing in general, in well over 13 years. I would love to hear any advice or criticism as I try to test out my creative side.

Chapter Text

“Boy! Get up, now!" Yelled Uncle Vernon from outside his door. He heard heavy feet golump down the stairs as his uncle left. Years of being addressed thus left Harry with little doubt that it was he who was being summoned."

"Coming!" Harry yelled back quickly, hauling himself out of his small bed and quickly remade it with practiced ease. He debated going through his morning routine, but one look at the alarm clock (7:04) ended that thought. If his uncle had woken him up that early (especially after yesterday), then whatever they wanted would be actually important. So, he left his room and made his way down to the sitting room, waiting for his relatives to address him. (Years of indoctrination are hard to beat: "Don't ask questions!")

His aunt was the one who addressed him first.
"I want you to go back upstairs and get ready. We're driving into London and I want you to wear your s-school uniform." She seemed to stutter and lose heart for a second before finishing her sentence.

"Why?"

"Don't ask questions! Go!" was his aunt's only reply. He was almost back to the steps when his uncle called out, "And be sure to brush your foul hair!"

It was close to 30 minutes later that Harry and the Dursleys set out in Vernon's company car. "Now, boy," his uncle called, "I'll be dropping you and your aunt off while I go and pick up Dudley. I want to hear about any... funny business from your aunt when I get back. To pick you up"

"Yes, uncle."

an hour and a half of silence. How his relatives could sit silently in a car for that long would always astound Harry. After all, it was him they didn't like, not each other. But a little over an hour and a half later, he and his aunt were dropped off in a nondescript back alley of London's business district.

He silently followed his aunt as she walked and appeared to be following a map. "Ah!" she said with an almost satisfied voice. "Here we are, I think." It was an old, half-destroyed, and heavily graffitied phone box. The phone inside was hanging half off its stand.

"I think it's broken." Harry said hesitantly, cocking an eyebrow.

"...yeees. I think that's as it should be." She read something in the small pamphlet she was holding.

"This is, I believe, the 'visitors'' entrance to your ministry. It wasn't like this when we..." Aunt Petunia sighed, losing heart in her sentence again. "It was a different entrance, or we used a different entrance when my parents had to bring Lily here for some test when we were sixteen or so."

She approached the broken phone stand and gestured for him to come next to her. Then, she closed the door. It was a very tight fit. Next, Petunia placed her hand on the dial and turned a certain number, waiting as the rotary clicked back into place each time. It was then that a disembodied voice called out, seeming to come from every inch of the box.An emotionless, cool female voice saying.

"Welcome to the British Ministry of Magic,What is your name and business today?"

"Petunia Dursley and Harry Potter, we have an appointment at the Muggle Liaison and Child Welfare Offices." This news caused Harry to look at his aunt and raise his eyebrows. She simply shook her head at him. "Yes, I know, I know.”Don't ask questions.””

A ringing sound came from the remains of the payphone, and two badges dropped into Petunia's hand. She looked at both of them and sniffed in disapproval before handing Harry the one with his name on it. Upon further inspection, his badge read "Harry Potter—Multi-Appointment." It was then that Harry noticed the phone box was lowering into the ground. The lift rattled steadily downward. All the questions he wanted to ask died in his throat. Not wanting to spook his aunt away from whatever she was doing (she was visibly shaking), he remained silent.

Harry reached out and placed a comforting hand on her arm, one of the rare moments when he remembered that they were actually family. The voice called out again as they neared the enormous atrium that had appeared in front of them. "Visitors to the Ministry are required to surrender their wands for inspection at the security kiosk before proceeding into the Ministry."

His aunt seemed confused by that, so he held out his wand and pointed to a gold security desk with a bored-looking man reading a magazine.

Even at this hour, the atrium appeared nearly deserted, with only a few people coming and going. It was clear that most of the ministry staff were in their offices.

As they approached the security desk, the man put his magazine down. "Name? And wand, please," the man said. "Petunia Dursley. I don't have a wand. I'm not magical," his aunt replied briskly.

"Harry Potter. Here's my wand, sir."

The man looked quickly at Harry's face, then flicked his eyes to his scar and stared quite obviously. "Er... sir, my wand," Harry reminded him gently.

"Right you are, sir. I apologize." He quickly scanned his wand, skewered the results on a spike on the desk, and passed Harry back his wand.

"Is there a map or directory?" asked his aunt.

"Oh, yes, here." He hands her another pamphlet.

After studying it for a moment, she gestured for Harry to follow her and set off.

“Does everyone react like that to your name?”

“That was a mild reaction actually. Most older people go into hysterics, when hagrid, Hagrid is that giant that came to give me my letter, when he took me to get my school stuff, we passed through a pub and everyone in there cheered when they knew who I was, a woman named Doris Crockford came back around the line three times crying each time she shook my hand.” They arrived at a set of double doors labeled "Muggle Liaison Office," and they both stepped through.

Once through the doors, a cheerful receptionist greeted them.

“Oh, you must be our 10:30? Petunia Dursley?”

She nods her head. "Yes, who am I meeting?" Petunia asks.

"Well, because of the sensitive nature of the inquiries, the director herself, Elizabeth Macavoy. It's a little early, but we're never really busy. Which is a good thing I suppose. You head on back, and I'll let them know to expect you." The secretary said in a cheery tone.

The two walked down the hall in the direction indicated by the receptionist and found themselves in front of a door marked "Director." After knocking and receiving a reply, they entered.

The office itself was rather small, but very warm, decorated in light browns and bright reds. The decorations made it appear more open and larger than it actually was. The director, a youngish woman in her mid thirties with medium-length, apple-red hair and a gray pantsuit, sat at her desk with Mr. Abbott to the side. Harry recognized him immediately—a girl from his class was his spitting image: blonde hair, round face, large, almond-shaped blue eyes, definitely in her early thirties. The two at the desk welcomed them, and they all sat down.

"Well, Mrs. Dursley, how can my department assist you?" the director asked, glancing over at Harry.

"Err... yes... well, I can see you know who this is?" Petunia said hesitantly.

"Yes, and I was going through the files trying to find yours or his, and interestingly enough, there isn't a single instance of interaction between the Ministry and your family until yesterday when the incident involving your ward's familiar occurred. This is not only a rare occurrence, it's impossible. One of my people and an agent from Child Welfare Services should have been by yearly to do a check on him since you never adopted him. And I assume this isn't about a possible adoption?" She stopped and waited looking at Petunia, who shook her head in the negative, and Director Macavoy continued, "Then I am rather confused as to what my department is being asked of, Mrs. Dursley?"

Petunia cleared her throat, clearly uncomfortable. "Well, I was hoping this department could point Harry here toward legal counsel—counsel that focuses on or could help with emancipation.”

Chapter Text

The room sat in silence for a moment at his aunt's announcement.

"Excuse me, what do you want to focus on?" the director asked hesitantly.

"Non Magical and magical emancipation, i want to make Harry a legal adult where the old man dumble whatsit can't have a say what he does, I've been having, dreams for lack of a better word. I don't trust him and he's the one who left the boy with us, on our front step with nothing but a note and a blanket, in the cold morning hours of November for God's sake" his aunt replied tursley.

"Look," she says as she pulls out an old parchment scroll, handing it over.

"My nephew was forced upon us, left on our doorstep in the dead of night with nothing but that note there as an explanation of events. Do you understand? My family never wanted him. I never wanted any of you wizard types around my son... not after… her... my perfect sister, coming home every holiday with her pockets overflowing with frog spawn and speaking of things I've never even heard of!" She takes a deep breath and continues.
"I didn't want him then, and after yesterday, I don't want him around anymore. Bringing home some freakish snake that apparently can kill with its eyes! No, no more. My husband and I have had enough... but" And she glances over at Harry. “The boy is still the son of my sister...who despite everything that happened between us I loved quite deeply and didn't get to spend nearly as much time with growing up as i should have been able to, because I wasn't graced with magical powers...so I won't just kick him out to the streets... I know...I've realized that the...that Harry is some form of a celebrity in this world... and I know there are probably hundreds of families that would gladly take him in. But what he doesn't need is parental figures fawning all over him. That letter had that right, at least... and I know that the Potters are an old and rich family." Petunia once again glanced at Harry, who was staring at her with rapt attention. "Lily came home from the holidays several times spewing vitriol again that 'nappy-headed arrogant rich prat' amongst other colorful descriptions," she had said with a chuckle and a fond smile.

"At any rate, I know that any regular family would ruin him, and I know the Potters are wealthy, so his family either has property or enough money to lease something while he's out on the summer holidays." Aunt Petunia looked at Harry and finally closed her mouth, finished speaking.

"Surely," the director said, looking at Mr. Abbott, "surely you don't intend to cast him out of his home for the events of yesterday?"

"Don't you understand!" she stood quickly and slammed the parchment down on the table. "I was told my sister, my last remaining blood relative, was DEAD by a damn note! Like it was an old bit of news to be commented on like the weather! And then I went nearly twelve years without another peep from this world aside from strangers coming up to Harry and shaking his hand or that damn school letter debacle. I wasn't asked to take in my baby sister's child.

He was left on my doorstep, and after yesterday, and that thing that nearly killed my husband because he punished Harry for shouting at him. No, I will not have him in my house longer than necessary, but I want him to have a space where he can care for himself. So, if you please, would you help him get some solicitors? Neither he nor I know how to navigate this world, and I believe this to be your department's job.

Director Macavoy sat in stunned silence for a minute before saying, "Well, you're right. Yes, I can help you, of course. Here." She had scribbled out the names of three solicitors who work with Muggleborns on such matters. She turned slightly and looked at Harry, cocking an eyebrow, to which Harry simply nodded. "I suppose you have an owl?" the director asked Harry.

"Yes, why?" he replied.

“I'm going to recommend contacting the one at the top of the list. He is a Muggle-born lawyer that works on all kinds of cases for Squibs and Muggle-borns that the more conservative firms won't touch. His name is Ted Tonks, and he is the best lawyer I've seen in a while. He's fantastic at manipulating the Wizengamot with his words. Your next step should be to head over to Child Welfare and get a file set up. Get a full diagnostic, which is equivalent to a physical and a checkup all in one. This will need to be done if you want to continue. The boy's health will be looked over by the Wizengamot to make their decisions in any potential hearing.

"Well, Mrs. Dursley, it's been an enlightening morning. Mr. Potter, good luck. You may see yourselves out. I have another appointment coming in ten minutes, and I need to prepare for it."

The three others in the office stood and left. Shortly down the hallway, Mr. Abbott said to Petunia and Harry, "So, shall I escort you two to the child welfare offices?"

"'Yes, please,' said Aunt Petunia, who sounded very reticent about that particular business."

They continued walking, and Mr. Abbott said rather sadly, "I must apologize. I feel I intruded on your meeting there. I invited myself along so you had at least one somewhat familiar face, as you don't seem particularly chuffed about having to be here. But you handled yourself well, and I forgot that Macavoy is nothing like Director Bones of the DMLE. Elzy is a fine witch, smart and fierce when necessary, but also has the personality to make even the most timid person feel comfortable. She actually used to work with child welfare back in the '70s, but... well, the war. There were a lot of orphans and hurt children. I think it soured her on it, and she jumped to Muggle Liaison."

"Yes, she had a good head on her shoulders. She reminded me of my sister, honestly," Petunia replied, casting her eyes down, her voice trailing off.

They continued through the halls and up two floors to a back corner set of offices, all labeled "MCWO: Magical Child Welfare Office."

"Welcome to 'MCW.' It's technically its own office, but it's still considered a sub-department of the accidental Magic office, where accidental magic reversal, child welfare, Muggle-worthy excuses, and, of course, the big one—accidental magic and catastrophes—are located." He explained jovially, leading them into an office before calling out, Helen! I've got a rather sensitive one for you!” He waited for a distant reply of, "Alright, coming in a mo!"

"Well, that's me done. I've got to get back to work. I've got some people covering my desk. Nice meeting you, Harry! If you ever need help, send us an owl. I assume you know my niece?" After harrys nod he turned and left, leaving them alone in the office.

Petunia stood there nervously when Harry tugged on her shirt sleeve and pointed to a pair of rather tatty-looking chairs. The two moved to sit on them and wait.

It took ten minutes before a rather squat and heavy-set, ruddy-faced woman appears in bright red robes. Harry has to hold back a laugh, both at his aunt's face and at the thought that the woman looks just like a maraschino cherry, right down to her shiny, candy-red lipstick. The woman must have seen Petunia's face and made a rather unladylike sound. "Yes, like my clothes? My brother's are hilarious. They read a Muggle book about some old king, and the next thing I know, everything I touch turns red. St. Mungo's was able to alter the curse's effects a bit, so it's just things I am currently touching” she picks up a quill that quickly turns candy apple red. “It makes writing very difficult and unfortunately, the change in the magic also made the red brighter... BUT that's not important right now. My name is Helen Ciliegia, but you can just call me Miss Cili for now. Why don't you tell me what I can do for you?"

"Well..." Petunia slowly started. "This is Harry Potter." That made Miss Cili sit up straighter. "After an... incident yesterday, I was remined of the existence of the magical government. And a mister Abbott told me about the liaison office that helps non-magical people and first-generation witches and wizards navigate the government. And it became clear that Harry's 'magical guardian,' Albus Dumbledore, has hidden every single facet of the magical world from not only us, his non magical guardians but Harry himself.

We are here for two reasons: one being I suppose, rather important. I don't think Harry has ever had a magical check-up or examination, nor come to think of it any magical inoculations If your lot has those. The second reason is that I am seeking emancipation for him for a multitude of reasons, but the biggest reason is that my family doesn't want the boy, and after that incident yesterday with his pet, we can't keep him; he's a danger to our son.

The woman narrowed her eyes. "Why seek emancipation at such a young age? He can't be more than twelve. Why not seek a different foster family?"

Because no matter what I think of him and this "world," I do want what is best for him.

What's best for him is not being around my husband, who can barely contain himself around the boy. So far, it's been light slaps on the head, but as Harry grows and becomes a young man, there will be punches thrown from both sides, and I'd rather avoid that.

Also, I don't think another family in your world would be any better. I've seen random magical people on the street approach him and fawn over him like he was the queen herself among them. They would turn his head, spoil him rotten, and ruin him just as assuredly as I've ruined my own son. She looked down sadly; she had come to that realization slowly throughout the year, with the school reports that were sent home.

"No, I believe being on his own recognizance is best. For better or worse, Harry hates attention; he hates being around sycophants. He can cook for himself and clean; he makes his bed with military proficiency without being asked. With minimal adult intervention, this young man will become a bright and strong adult. But if people take his head off his shoulders by fawning over him, he will be just as much a wastrel as every other vapid child star you see in the tabloids. Plus, I know the Potters. I met James and both his parents a few times before they all died. I know the family is extremely wealthy; he has the means and the desire to care for himself. And as I understand it, he has a friend or two who will keep his studies on track.That's why I want to emancipate him completely. Aside from that, it will get him out of that old, bearded man's clutches. I've met Dumbledore once or twice in my youth, and he's up to no good. Whether you lot see it or not, he doesn't have Harry's best interests at heart. Like he never had Lillie's best interest.”

"Well... then," blinked Miss Cilli. "We can start by getting a basic health check done. Don't worry; I can do it here. It only takes a moment." She stood up, approached Harry, and tapped him on the head with the tip of her wand. Then she tapped a long piece of parchment with a self-inking quill, and the quill spewed ink onto the page.

"name: Harry James Potter

Age: 11 years 11 months

Health: No conditions (resisted potions and spells present)

Status: No ailments (non active potion and spell effects present)

Magical power: 859

Special note: Several healed broken bones were found.

special note: malnutrition was found (no treatment needed)

Miss Cili looked up with a very serious look on her face. "Malnutrition?"

Petunia blushed, "Well, what did you expect? A baby shows up on your doorstep one morning and suddenly the price of everything doubles. Only, I don't work, and my husband, prior to three years ago, was paid on commission. We all made sacrifices at times; I always made sure to feed both the boys before myself or my husband. It's just..." Harry spoke up for the first time, "I've never been a big eater before I started at Hogwarts. That is, being at Hogwarts makes me hungry in a way no Muggle gym class ever has."

"Hmm, yes. Sometimes our bodies respond to magic in odd ways. I wonder if you were a calm child? No tantrums, no accidental bursts of magic?

"very few" Harry and Petunia said together.

"There was a time when Harry teleported himself to the roof of the school building," explained Aunt Petunia. "One time when Harry was three, he called an entire ham to his plate. He's always had a soft spot for ham." The only thing he consistently eats is ham," she said, raising an eyebrow as if just realizing it.

"Then, yes, it's more than likely that with such a vast amount of power in your core, you were sustained in a way that deceived your brain into believing you didn't need much food. It's a common enough affliction among Muggle-borns, so I simply had to be certain . Well, Mr. Potter, if emancipation is what you desire, there are several things working in your favor. The biggest one is that this is not Muggle England; if it were, your request would not be possible. But since this is the Ministry of Magic and we operate under different rules, it is not only possible but highly probable.

"Your greatest favor is that you are Harry Potter, the scion of an ancient and noble house."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Petunia asked before Harry could.

"It means that Harry is the last direct descendant of a family that is older than the founding of the current Ministry. Being the Heir or Lord of an ancient and noble House comes with certain privileges in our society. That will be a great boon in this affair. Another boon is that the Potters are extremely wealthy, as you said, missus Dursleyn, It will be very easy to prove that you can care for yourself. Unfortunately, there's nothing you can do at this juncture. All legal inquiries must be submitted by a solicitor (I assume Mrs. MacAvoy provided you with a list?)" Miss Cilli explained all this slowly and very matter-of-factly, so it wouldn't be misunderstood.

"This will still be difficult, but if done properly, given who you are, you will be able to speak with the Wizengamot during its July or August sitting.” Miss Cilli warned them. Now, why don't you two go out and enjoy the rest of this fine day?"

With that, Petunia and Harry stood up thanked the woman and made their exit. They walked along the corridors, only stopping and asking for directions twice inside the labyrinth of rooms and halls that was the Ministry of Magic. They returned to the Grand Atrium, whose centerpiece was a fantastic fountain. As they both approached the fountain, they saw a sign (All proceeds from the Fountain of Magical Brethren will be donated to St. Mungo's Hospital). Harry felt around, found his money bag, and emptied it. With ten fat gold Galleons in his hand, he offered some to his aunt, who guffawed at them with wide, insane eyes. Harry laughed at this and, smiling, said, "I think the conversion rate is fifty pounds to a Galleon. At least that's what Hermione said." He rather unceremoniously chucked his galleons in, Petunia did as well. As they walked back to the lift, Petunia smiled cheerfully and asked,

"Who is Hermione?"

At this, Harry smiled and began explaining all about the girl people were already calling the brightest witch of the age as they got into the lift and left for the meeting point with Uncle Vernon and Dudley.

It was much later that day that Harry sat in his room, his Hogwarts things freed from the cupboard under the stairs, with Hedwig and his new familiar, Smaragaid, or Smara as she liked to be called. The ancient snake was a fascinating conversationalist and knew many secrets of the founders, having known each of them, and not many new memories in the interim to delude her recollection.

Harry sat at his desk, watching the sun begin to set as he wrote a letter of introduction and asking for an in-person appointment with Ted Tonks at the mans earliest convenience and to come to the Dursleys' house if it was convenient enough because getting Aunt Petunia into Diagon Alley would be trying in the extreme.

With that letter done, he folded it up and the letter he wrote for Hermione. He tied them to Hedwig and sent her on her way.

You know, Smara, "I think it's going to be a very interesting summer. Harry felt a very distant sense of contentment across the new familiar bond that had been tickling his mind for months now.

Chapter Text

Harry awoke late in the morning; bleary-eyed, blinking the sleep away, he sat up and stretched. Looking around, he saw Hedwig was back, sitting on her perch asleep. A scroll of parchment was on his desk, carrying the wax seal Hermione always sealed her letters with ["because it makes me feel fancy, and I know my parents, whom I correspond with most regularly, find it hilarious," Hermione replied to his question as to why she used a huge complicated wax seal on her letters, her voice dripping with the dry humor that fit her so well.

Harry went over and opened the letter.

“Dear Harry,

I'm sorry it sounds like you've already had a very trying but enlightening holiday. I'm sorry I can't be there for you in person. My family is preparing to go to France, near Nice, where my maternal grandparents live. I'll be staying there until August 1st. I don't know if Hedwig can fly that far, but please do try to keep me updated. I think we should get together and hang out soon after I return in August.

With love,
Hermione Granger

Harry was happy for his friend. She had spoken about going to Nice several times toward the end of term before the whole debacle with Quirrell happened. Harry's mind seemed to go blank there as he remembered the pain and the terror of facing Quirrelmort, of watching the man die from the bites that Smara had inflicted. "Maybe I should go back to the liaison office and ask about therapy."

With that unhappy thought, he looked out of the window just in time to see an owl winging its way toward his window. He threw the window open and stepped aside just in time for the owl to swoop in and land next to Hedwig, who barked loudly but didn't wake up.

Harry took the letter from the handsome screech owl and opened it.

“Mr. Potter,

My name is Ted Tonks of the firm PhischTonks. I'll be glad to call at your relatives' house this afternoon at 4:00 sharp when my office closes. Please return your address to me via this owl so that I can find you then.

Looking forward to our meeting,
Ted Tonks”

Harry quickly wrote the address and gave it to the owl, who then flew back. He looked at the clock and saw 11:46. Harry made his way downstairs to find his aunt cleaning the kitchen. "Aunt Petunia, that solicitor that was recommended, replied to my letter and said he'd be here at 4:00 when his office closes.

I thought that him coming here would be better for you. I know how uncomfortable you are around magic, and since you're trying to help me out, I thought I would be cordial with you as well.

"Thank you for the warning, Harry, but don't think this will get you out of your chores. Go get changed and go weed out the back garden; it's completely overgrown. Go and get Dudley up and tell him I said that he is to help you.

It's time he gets his own chores to do." When Harry was by the stairs, his aunt called out, "And make sure Dudley doesn't rip out any of my flower beds."

Several hours later saw a showered and clean Harry sitting at the kitchen table, writing out a complex essay from his summer homework (the application of charms in everyday life and how they coincide with Muggle appliances). Harry figured it was Flitwick's way of educating the pureblood students properly about Muggles. Petunia was standing over his shoulder, reading silently as Harry explained how cleaning charms were less effective than Muggle cleaning solutions, using Pledge as an example for muggle products and the fact that showers still exist in the wizarding world despite cleaning charms being a thing, when a knock came to the door, and his aunt hurried off to answer it. A few moments later, a short, portly man in a pinstripe suit and fedora, looking very much like the worst idea of a 1930s gangster, appeared. Harry half expected him to start by saying, "Myah see.”

"Mister Potter," the man extended his hand and shook Harry's. "My name is Ted Tonks. I believe you have some things to discuss with me?"

"Yes," replied Harry and Petunia together.

"I want," started Petunia, who paused so Ted directed his attention to her.

"I want to help Harry get emancipated in my world and yours. He's a danger to my family. Two days ago, he and my husband got into a shouting match, and when Vernon performed some light corporal punishment, the demon he calls a pet popped up and petrified my husband." Harry picked up Mister Tonks confused face. "Smara is a basilisk as old as Hogwarts; she once belonged to Slytherin himself. She's very smart, but she kind of adopted me as her kid, and when Vernon put his hands on me, she wouldn't listen when I told her to stay hidden. I ran out into the back garden and just shot spells off until someone from the Ministry showed up to help.”

"Okay, so why emancipation? Why not another family member?" Ted asks hesitantly as if considering something.

"We think any other family will be harmful to who Harry is as a person. His mental identity, as it were, would be endangered as every person in your world treats Harry like a celebrity. That and the boy has no other family. I'm his mother's only living relative left, and he's the last Potter." Petunia explained, ending up sounding like someone telling a precocious five-year-old that 2+2=4.

"The last Potter, yes, but what about cousins?

My wife, Andromeda Tonks, was originally Andromeda Black, and she is a third or fourth cousin of your father; her mother was your grandmother's cousin.

He is currently in jail for...well, it doesn't matter, but your godfather is a cousin of your father as well. His mother and your grandmother were sisters.

"Just for examples, your family is ancient, Harry. You have distant blood relatives you could go to," Mr. Tonks explained gently with sad eyes.

"No," said Harry, "no, I prefer to be on my own, working on myself by myself. I can care for myself, and I like to be my own person. I wouldn't say no to getting to know your wife or you more personally if we really are related, but I don't think forcing myself into another person's house is acceptable. After everything I've been through."

Ted Tonks breathed out a sigh. "Well, I tried. Okay, fine, I'll help. I've seen that face before, it really is like talking to a young James Potter again.

I've done this a few times with Muggle-borns who are escaping parents who are trying to lock them away from the Wizarding World, and I can tell you just what you'll need to prove to the Wizengamot without a doubt you can care for yourself.

You will need to:

1. Provide a worthwhile, reasoned statement as to why you require emancipation.

2. Maintain a high GPA. Although this is for older students and is more of a point of order towards the third requirement

3. Be able to care for and provide for yourself: food, housing, and education, last but not least.

4. Have between three and five adult sponsors of good standing speak on or write a blood-sealed letter to the Wizengamot in support of your independence."

Mr. Tonks looked at them as this information sank in.

"I don't think I have to tell you that even a rich young future lord will find this a daunting job to perform. This process is mainly for 14- or 15-year-old Muggle-borns trying to escape their religious parents, not a 12-year-old with a less-than-desirable home life. But nonetheless, you're the future lord of an ancient and noble house and the inheritor of at least one more. So the Wizengamot will most likely be sympathetic.

"Now, our first order of business...is business...

I have a 100 Galleon retainer fee, plus 5 Galleons per hour of work." Ted explained this in a very business-like tone, as if he was droning on in autopilot.

"Deal, you can bill it to my trust vault for now." Harry pulled out a gold key, taped it onto a small, stiff square of parchment, and numbers appeared on it. He then handed it to the lawyer.

"Excellent, the next order of business will be for you to get these sponsors. They can be anyone, even your aunt here...in fact," he said, rubbing his chin. "She should definitely be one. But the more highly placed and influential the sponsor, the better. For example, the last time I did this, the person I was helping was able to wrangle thone it sponsorship of the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic herself. A lovely woman who unfortunately retired to the Bahamas last year. But you get it, the more influential a person, the better. But don't discount personal connections either, the Wizengamot will count for people who actually know you, better than a seemingly random stranger, or one it seems you asked for and acquired assistance via unscrupulous means. Do you understand that, Harry?" Mr. Tonks asked.

Harry simply nodded. "I think I know some people to ask already.”

"Alright, who? Let me hear them," Ted looked expectantly.

"Well, my aunt, obviously, but also a member of the Weasley family. I know Mr. Weasley works for the Ministry. Then there's Professor McGonagall, who—" he looks over at his aunt. "No offense, but I know she doesn't support you having custody of me at all. Then perhaps my other friend Hermione's parents would help. I'm not too sure on that one. I've never even met them. The problem is, I don't know many people in the magical world. Maybe you'd know some top people who would be willing to sign a sponsorship declaration?"

"Oh, yes, I think I know a few, but it would require you to lean on your celebrity. Would you be okay with that?" Mr. Tonks asked.

"Not really, but if it got the job done, at least some good will come of it."

"Okay, well, that's all you need to focus on. I'll send a motion to get property and financial records of the Potters from Gringotts, and that will take care of that. And I'll also get your first-year grades and put those in the file as well. You're a Gryffindor, correct?" They both nod to each other. "Good. Well, Mr. Potter, good day. I'll attempt to get this all in order before your magical guardian gets back into the country. Dumbledore will be the biggest thorn on your side. To my knowledge, he used his powers as Supreme Mugwump to give himself guardianship over you above all other choices in your parents will, that he then sealed. I was the one who drew up the document, but the original was presumed lost when Death Eaters burned down your family home in Godric's Hollow. Well, good night. I'll be in touch, Harry, and I will send those requests out as soon as possible." Ted stood up. "May I use your back garden?" he asked Aunt Petunia.

"Oh yes, why not?" Ted nodded and walked out the back door. A second later, a loud, sharp crack sounded, and the wizard was gone.

"Well then, Harry..." She looked around. "Go and finish up the essay then. If this doesn't work out, I want you out of this house as early as possible, and the best way to do that is for you to get the best grades possible. Do you understand me?" Aunt Petunia spoke and finished very snippishly as she stalked off. Harry went up the stairs and lay on his bed.

"It's been a very odd week," Harry spoke in Parseltongue.

"Why, hatchling?" Spoke Smara with a voice like whispering velvet in his mind.

"Eh, it just is. You probably wouldn't understand unless you've lived my life until now. Like, my aunt has been weird sometimes. She acts like she normally does, and other times she's like this new person who treats me, if not well, then cordially, and who makes embarrassing jokes and witty remarks. People tell me my mother was like that." Harry tried to explain, but he felt he failed to convey his disquiet properly.

"You are young, small one. Your life is now in a state of flux. It is possible that your aunt sensed the change in you brought on by our bond and by your second defeat of the false one and has reacted like a scared quokka, but she is sacrificing her comfort instead of her hatchlings to escape your presence," Smara explained.

"You have a very interesting way of looking at things... What's a quokka?"

"If I gave you all the answers, how would you learn? The raven once told my father that when he asked about a secret room she and the badger built somewhere in the castle." Smara's sibilant hissing filled his mind and lulled him into sleep.

Three days passed quickly enough. He found that Hedwig had no problem flying to Hermione; it just took an extra day instead of a few hours. So they were able to correspond twice each so far, and she was off winging her way carrying his next reply.

He had also heard back from McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley.

McGonagall had affirmed her sponsorship immediately, whereas Mrs. Weasley denied his request, saying that she could never support a young man like himself living on his own. She did say, however, that he would be more than welcome to live in “the burrow” with the Weasleys should his guardians agree to it.

The Grangers were a big surprise. They did not outright deny his request but asked to meet him and discuss it in person because they did not really know him at all and only had Hermione's descriptions to go off of, which they assured him was the only reason it wasn't a straight-out denial.

He was expecting to meet Ted Tonks again today, but in this office. Mr. Tonks had told Harry rather reluctantly about the wizarding conveyance, the "Knight Bus." He would be taking this wizarding marvel to the Leaky Cauldron later today and walking to the offices of PhischTonks for his meeting. He was actually leaving early; he wanted to get new robes (that weren't school robes) for the meeting. His aunt had said looking smart was as important as being smart, which is why Harry was to be found at 7:30 in the morning standing outside in the pouring rain and wondering why he was sticking his wand out in the air like an orchestra conductor who got lost during a show.

When suddenly, with a loud pop and squealing tires, a violently purple triple-decker bus flashed into existence forty feet to his left and stopped right in front of him so quickly the entire bus stood on its two front wheels and leaned dangerously forward. The shock of this caused Harry to fall straight back, especially as he felt the mirror barely miss his fingers.

Suddenly, the doors opened up, and out stepped a man in his mid-twenties. "Hello and welcome to the most popular transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, and we can take you anywhere you need to go...so long as it's on land. My name is Bellamy Brax, and I will be your conductor this evening." The man looked down and smirked. "First time?" After a nod from Harry, he helped him up. "Yeah, scared me half to death the first time too." Once on board, he asked Harry, "So, where to?"

"The Leaky Cauldron, please." And with a bang, they were off. "You're lucky; you're our only passenger right now. You normally have to sit in the queue, first come, first served." As Harry stepped off, the conductor said, "Be seeing you!" and with a bang, they were gone. Harry turned around, blinking widely and shaking his head. He wandered off into the Cauldron and then into the alley, looking for the office building he was searching for. Around twenty minutes later, he sat in front of Ted Tonks at the man's desk.

Chapter Text

Harry sat in unmitigated silence, a silence so complete it was like a sharp thumbtack constantly drilling into his ears. The office of PhischTonks, according to Mr. Phisch, Ted Tonks's partner, was at one point long ago the Wizarding equivalent of a funeral parlor. The magic of the place had never let go of the eerie and somber energy that that kind of long-term dedication tends to manifest. That, and the muffling ward lines inlaid into the very stonework of the building helped to encapsulate all people who entered here in a bubble of sorts that drowned out the sound of the world in a ten foot radius around a person. Harry understood the kind of appeal such a place would hold for the grief-stricken people this building had once served. Nowadays, these effects acted as constant privacy wards for the many clients and lawyers who conversed on the multitude of cases the office was involved in.

However, no matter how impressive the story or reasoning behind the silence was, it was still absolutely maddening to Harry as Mister Tonks sat there and read the few letters of testimony for sponsorship in favor of Harry gaining his independence that he had received. Professor McGonagall's was long and heartfelt, encompassing more than a foot of parchment. Harry had no idea his head of house would be so supportive; he decided to write to her and ask why she supported his independence so fervently.

"Well?" Harry asked exasperatedly, cutting through the ear-splitting silence like a sharp knife through tightly bound leather.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, these will do very nicely if we can arrange for you to meet with and convince one or two well-respected individuals... preferably Wizengamot members to either come in and testify or give written testimony of their support as well, then we should have more than enough... community support, shall we say, to prove you're mature enough to live on your own." Ted smiled, saying this, looking pleased. "On the same note, I have already submitted documentation scheduling a hearing with the Wizengamot through the Wizarding Children Protection Office, and it has been accepted and put on the schedule for the Wizengamot session that's happening in two weeks. Coincidentally, this session also occurs when the International Confederation of Wizards conference is on its final and most contentious days when its members are the busiest and most distracted." Mr. Tonks said that final part, smiling.

Harry smirked at the older man, aware of what he was planning. "So, how is that going to work with Professor Dumbledore being out of the country and unable to attend?"

"Well, there's some business there I wanted to ask you about, but to answer you first, it's simple. If your guardian is unable to be present, the court will appoint an attorney to represent him if he doesn't have one already... It's Dumbledore, so I highly doubt he does; the man happily represented himself the few times he's been called before the Wizengamot. Now, I wanted to know how you found out who your magical guardian is. I don't believe Dumbledore came out and introduced himself when you turned eleven." Mr. Tonks looked curiously expectant and waited for Harry to speak with his hands crossed.

"Well," Harry said hesitantly, "he told me, actually—in hindsight, he seemed not to want to. But I had received a rather important-looking letter from Gringotts, although it was very oddly addressed: 'To the boy who resides in a boy's dormitory in Hogwarts Castle, currently and normally resides with his Muggle aunt, and is related to the ancient and most noble House of Black by blood and the Muggle House of Evans through blood.”

"Professor Dumbledore rushed up, right in the middle of breakfast, and snatched the letter from my hand right before I opened it." Harry took a moment to remember before recounting the scene.
____________________________________
" I'm sorry, Harry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to take that letter from you," Dumbledore said, taking the letter and examining the envelope.

"Why? Professor, this letter is addressed very oddly, but it's clearly meant for me.”

"Because the bank should not have addressed you directly, you are not allowed access or prepared for the responsibility of managing your financial records. That duty belongs to your guardian."

"Well, who is that then? Because if you're talking about the Dursleys, I'd give out every Knut I have rather than let them see any of my banking information, sir. I don't know how many galleons are in a pound and I don't need to, to know that my vault has more money in it than uncle Vernon would make in 30 years, Or that they have every cent from me in an instant."

"Harry... you should not speak of your family in such an ungrateful way."

"Why, sir! I... they..." Harry looks around at all the people staring at this exchange, and breathing heavily, he quickly hands over the letter, not wanting to attract any more attention. "Sir, who is my magical guardian? I've never met them. They've never contacted me or helped me or taught me anything about the magical world. If I had a magical guardian, shouldn't they have come to the Dursleys with my letter... or even before then to make sure I was okay and well cared for?"

"Well... Harry, that would be me. I am your magical guardian, and I'm afraid I couldn't meet you to give you your letter, as I was tied up with an emergency Wizengamot session then." Dumbledore sounded very reticent about admitting this.

"..sir?...Could I meet with you sometime today to discuss that letter and some other things? If you're my magical guardian, sir, I'd like to tell you a few things and ask some more questions."

"Ahhh, Harry, my boy, I'm sorry, but as it stands, I'm set to be out of the castle on ICW business for the next week." Dumbledore then left the Great Hall in a rush. After Harry left breakfast, there was a faint smell of smoke.
____________________________________

"After that, it was midterm tests and the Christmas holidays and several events, including the best Christmas I've ever had, had driven that little scene from my mind. Until I met Smara, that is, and she said her influence would keep mind magics at bay as well as give me a sharper mind—something about pheromones, I think. Anyway, that scene and a few other things, mainly classwork, became clearer to me after I bonded with her. And..."

"WAIT," Mr. Tonks said sharply and sat bolt upright. "Did you say mind magics?... This Smara is your basilisk companion?" After a nod from Harry, Ted leaned forwards and went straight into business mode. "Harry, I need you to go home immediately, get your aunt, and" (he writes down an address that Harry thought must have been in downtown London). "You get her and come to this address; I'll meet you there as legal representation and a witness. Your aunt will also need help getting into the building; Muggles can't get in by themselves... In fact, I'll come with you to gather your aunt; we don't have time to wait for the Knight Bus; I'll Apparate us both to your house."

They both quickly stood up and left the office and went to the "apparition point," as Mr. Tonks called it, after a horrible feeling of being tightly squeezed through a narrow tube that left Harry retching on the grass behind his relatives house. With a wave of Ted's wand, the mess was gone, and Harry knocked on the back door, then walked in to see his aunt sitting, sipping tea at the table with a lady Harry half recognized as her friend, Yvonne.

They both look at the back door, open, and Yvonne looks confused and affronted. But before she can say anything, Harry speaks.

"Hello, Aunt Petunia. Mr. Tonks says I need to get to the hospital," Harry spoke slowly, full of hidden intent and urgency.

"Errr... yes, I'm afraid Harry took a rather bad tumble, and I'm afraid he might have a concussion, ma'am. I can't take him in myself."

Petunia sighs and places her tea down. "Well, I guess we'll have to continue this later, Yvonne," she says as she stands up. "Come, we can take Vernon's old car. It's in the garage." They leave immediately, Petunia trusting her friend to see her way out.

They drove in silence for about five minutes before she asked, "So, what is this really about? I know for a fact that you can heal just about any injury in seconds." Her voice was snippish and angry.

"Well," said Mr. Tonks, "You have that largely correct for small, almost all medium, and even some of what Muggles would consider major injuries: broken bones, punctured lungs, even most deadly diseases like tuberculosis, Our own magic and outside spells can heal quickly, if not instantly. But there is some damage that even magic has to take its time with. To regrow bones is a painful, time-consuming process; the larger the bone or the more bones affected, the longer it takes. Nothing major like that is wrong with Harry, don't worry." (Petunia Scoffs)."What Harry needs checked is his mind. He's not crazy or anything, but that snake of his seems to think he's under the effect of mind magic. So when we get to St. Mungo's, which is the name of our hospital, you need to approach the front desk and ask for an OPSEC scan. Given who he is, he should be seen immediately. Alright, Petunia," Mr. Tonks said. "That's far enough. It'll be tough with two people, but I can Apparate us there far more quickly than you can drive. The OPSEC is a fast scan, but annotating and fixing everything it reveals might take more time than I have today. Please park the car somewhere it won't be suspicious if it sits for a few hours."

After Aunt Petunia parks the car, Ted grabs both of their arms tightly. "Ready? This will be unpleasant. Please remain as still as possible." With a twist and a crack, they were gone.

Chapter Text

The first spark of sensation his brain registered after emerging from that terrible dark tube was whiteness

Bright white light seemingly from all angles filling his vision with no breaks. and then his senses seemed to kick on again and dark black appeared as well as thin black straight lines

Tile

He was on a tile floor…but why he pushed himself up groaning and looking around he rolled his head where he lay on the floor. Then he registered a voice. It seemed muffled and distant yet far too loud and close at the same time.

"Uggggh" Harry looked around taking in the room around him, plenty of white tiles and black grout but that was it. On the bare wall was an open doorway with no door and further out he could make out chairs and a long counter some awful ashy plum colour you might see in a children's doctor's office or a cheap pizza place.

"what?" Harry looked around his eyes falling onto Mr. Tonks

The older man laughed "I told you it was going to be difficult with three people. Apparition is quick but uncomfortable the more people the more uncomfortable and the more likely it can go wrong. I'm somewhat used to three people but not one being a muggle, it takes more power and more delicacies. not to mention if you're not used to apparition like you two aren't it can be quite... well" and he gestures to the floor where aunt petunia is dry heaving.

"Welcome, Harry to Saint Mungo's Hospital for magical maladies and injuries. Well let's give your aunt a minute shall we apparition is always hardest the first time. after that, it's not nearly as bad I promise."

"I HATE magic" muttered Petunia darkly before putting a hand on her knee and standing up. She looked around, blinking rapidly." so this is it then..." she looked over at Harry. "she...your mother mentioned this place when I saw her after your birth. seems hospital is a universal standard than. Good, I always pictured a bunch of people like that oddball headmaster of yours running about half melted with rabbit ears or some such rot."

"Well, it is like that some days here, my wife is a healer here and some of the things she talks about... well...I'm muggle born you know, and I've been in the Wizarding world for over 40 years now and I still find some aspects of it unbelievable. Magical accidents are one of them; they can be wild and inexplicable and sometimes incurable events like Miss Cili from the child welfare office, whom I believe you're acquainted with. come on, we should get this show started" and he gestures to them to the other room and the long hideous purple counter, where a bored matronly-looking witch sits waiting for her next interaction.

"Ted? What's this then, do I need to tell Andy about a hidden family?" the welcome witch said this with a twinkle of mischief in her eyes.

"err.. no ..no, this is a client and his muggle guardian. He needs an OPSEC scan and I volunteered to come and assist as they don't know what to ask for or how to get in here.

"Hmmmm alright then, spell damage! fourth floor."

" Alright let's go, the lifts are this way." Mr. Tonks gestures for them to follow as he walks to the lifts.

A short journey later and they stood before a counter much the same as the one on the ground floor but this time an ashy red with decorative bars running horizontally across it, one a light brown and the other a darker bronze.

Ted walked up to the counter and spoke to the young healers' aide, whose eyes flicked from the older man to Harry's eyes and then to somewhere on his forehead and then returned to the lawyer in front of her.

"Of course, I understand, just follow me to a room and then I'll get healer Tonks for you,

HI, Harry nice to see you again, didn't think I woould for some time you know?." at this Harry. nods and smiles.

"So. You remember me? Good I didn't think you actually would."

"f course I remember you, Natalie Atwood, Ravenclaw, 7th year prefect you helped me and my friends find the charms practice hall, and you showed my friend Hermione the most well-lit spot in the library. Always made time to help us lost firsties out. It's good to see you again. I'm glad to see you got a job so easily. I've heard it can be difficult for muggle-borns."

"yeah, normally it is, but there's a shortage of healers in Britain so they can't discriminate too much right now, well here we are room 416, healer Tonks should be along shortly. Have a good day Harry." with that the young woman walked away leaving the group in the exam room."So?" asked Harry. "Your wife is a mind healer?"

"Oh, yes, the Black family has a long and storied history in mind-magic. But she is a general healer. Wizarding equivalent of a family doctor. it's just she has a specialization in mind magic. they aren't common afflictions so no healer only works in mind healing. I have no doubt she's going to give you a full diagnostic whether you want one or not". At this, a quick knock at the door preceded a middle-aged woman with long black hair set loose in wild curls, her pale skin and her sharp chin combined well with her regal bearing and domineering presence made healer Andromeda Tonks the picture of aristocratic perfection.

"So?" she said sharply. "After nearly twelve years of failed effort my dear missing cousin is the one to find me rather than I, him." The woman entered the room slowly speaking low and slowly and when she reached Harry, she bent straight at the hip showing both grace and flexibility, down to his level while cocking an eyebrow and scanning him with her eyes. "You look very much like your father, all the shame too he was a tatty little thing at your age as well. but your eyes, your eyes are a bright reflection of a woman whom I loved like a younger sister, despite her faulty taste in men." at this she smirked. “Hello Harry. I doubt you remember me but I am your cousin or rather Aunt Andromeda as your mother referred to me. And I have been looking for you since 1981. it was I who was next in line to care for you after the Longbottoms and my idiot cousin Sirius. It is wonderful to see you. but now is not the time or place for a reconciliation, no, now tell me why you are here. So suddenly and demanding my attention."

Harry stared up at the woman who had straightened up midway through her introduction."errrrrrr."

"Oh how loquacious you are, truly stunning" Andromeda stared at Harry blankly.

"Right. , ummm, my familiar seems to think I'm under the effect of some kind of powerful mind-magic.

"You're familiar?"

"Yes," Harry nods. "Smara, she's a basilisk I met at Hogwarts. She used to belong to Salazar Slytherin. Apparently, I can speak to her because I'm a Parstlemouth. At least that's the word my friend Ron used."Andromeda stared dumbstruck at Harry and then looked between the two adults."r-really?"

"Well," said Ted. " I haven't seen her, as Smara is very protective of Harry, so he leaves her in his room when stepping out into the Wizarding World. Apparently She mistook a cuff on the head by his uncle during an argument as lethal intent and petrified him. which is a skill basilisks have apparently." Ted finished Exasperatedly.

“well then." Andromeda said nonplussed “I-I Sup-pose, you'll need an OPSEC scan then. ok, we can do that. how about I do a full diagnostic while we're at it, hmm?

“Sounds good to me. I've only had one mass diagnostic spell used on me before, and that was by the WCPO head when she interviewed me to start a file on me. It had some present but inactive spells and potions.” Harry explained calmly.

The older witch procured a scroll of parchment, a long, pure black quill, and a lot of ink so deeply red it looked black. After seeing these to a table in the room and tapping them in sequence she turned to Harry and wordlessly pressed her wand into his body, starting at his naval she worked her way up pressing the tip of her wand into certain areas of his body ending by pressing it just above his manubrium and leaving it there. While this is going on the quill is writing at an insane pace so fast it amazed Harry that the parchment hadn't run out but Harry remembered that it was probably enchanted to increase its size when need be. After about a minute of the wand poking him under his throat, she removed her wand and held it just at his temple.

"Harry, I'm about to start your OPSEC scan. I warn you because this can get rather intense if you are indeed under the effect of magic that is manipulating your thoughts. Any questions before I start?"

"What does OPSEC mean? for a start, " Harry said, kind of exasperatedly.

"Ahh yes, a fine starting point. Well, if you were a bit older, you might recognize it from its muggle military origins. The process was mastered and taught by an American muggle-born healer who was drafted into a muggle conflict in the 70's.

it simply stands for operational security. The scan is simply for making sure your mind is working correctly, under only your influence, it detects all potions, curses, charms, spells, and incantations you are currently under as most potions and spells linger in your magical signature for around a month, we should have an easy time detecting all things that entered your system during the last several weeks of school, and if said spells or potions were meant to affect you the whole summer then you should see these things with this scan very easily.
Harry, are you ready to proceed? it doesn't hurt per say, but if you are under the effects of anything affecting your mind or brain, then when the purge happens at the end of the scan, certain magics tend to fight back."

Harry was silent for a moment while taking in and sorting this new information. staring into the room while deep in his thoughts, when an uncertain voice spoke up.

"What do you mean by “fights back?”" Petunia Dursley spoke quietly while looking at the healer.

" Hmmmm, you can think of magic as being alive. an animal or person without form or function we as witches and wizards give that life both a structure, and purpose, where once there was nothing. Ending this process destroying the structure that magic has formed? Magic does not like it. Magical energy is sentient in a way, independent from ourselves. That's why magic can act on its own when a magical faces extreme moments of anger or danger or fear. Tell me Missus Dursley what do you do when you are in the midst of an activity you adore and someone comes along and tries to remove you from it?"

"Ide struggle and argue to remain until I was done," Petunia said, eyebrows scrunched in thought.

“as does magic. ESPECIALLY mind-magic, you can say that mind-magic is the most intelligent form of magic it feeds and leeches energy and intellect off of not only the caster but also the target of the Magic. It wants to stay and do what it was given form and function to do. This scan and the purge will force the magic away from its target. a weak caster and target, and the magic would fall away easily. but the caster would be Albus Dumbledore, and the target is you, Harry, just standing. Here I can tell that you are powerful, especially for an 11-year-old, let's see here." she extended her wand and tapped his head, and a bright white 860 appeared above the wand that looked to be made of smoke."Yes, see you almost at 900. For a point of reference, Harry, the average for a magical adult in Britain is 1000. I'm considered a powerful witch at 1200, and Albus Dumbledore is said to currently be around 3000 and thats with his decline in his prime hede have been 5000 at the least. You, an eleven-year-old scrawny boy, are already almost as powerful as 80 percent of the adult magical population of the world. you are powerful, and whatever magic has you, will not want to let you go."

"Well...let's not waste time then do the scan and the purge," Harry said with a face full of grim determination.

Andromeda looked over at Petunia, "your guardian. Currently, I need your permission."

Petunia looked between Harry and the healer for a long second before heaving a deep sigh. "Do it."

"Omnibus Morbis cerebri deprehendere"

Andromeda said this calmly while circling Harry's head with her wand for five seconds and then flicking the wand down onto a sheet of parchment where words began forming a long list. A horrifyingly long list. she then flicks the wand back up and shouts "EXPURGATE".

Harry then tensed up his hands flying to his head as he screamed loud and sharp into the exam room Andromeda spun and sent several spells at the door and walls as Harry continued to scream.

To Harry, the world was black fire covered in white hot pain behind his eyes. A needle was being driven into the very core of his soul and made to explode in a conflagration of misery and pain. Then nothing, no pain, no fear, no light, no thought nor sensation and in that moment all of existence stopped to him.

Andromeda scanned Harry and seemed relieved.

"He's just asleep, his brain had to essentially do a hard reset" she glanced at the list. "had to figure out how to function without all that directing him. It's amazing he was able to do what he's been doing, any normal wizard or witch would be little more than a drone stumbling from place to place on a preconceived path. We'll let him sleep for an hour then come and wake him up and I'll read the findings, but just a glance? Unless that old bearded bastard is lucky or somehow erased the signature from the magics he'll not only lose custody of Harry. He'll face Azkaban.”

Chapter Text

Harry sat in an empty abandoned Hogwarts classroom. Smara coiled around his neck like a scarf her head raised as she held a halting conversation with the young wild-haired Burnette that was Hermione Granger, his best friend he couldn't make put what either were saying which he found odd he had to translate Smaras words for Hermione he was the only parstlemouth in the school. he redoubled his attention without moving but still there words seemed just out of reach "what the?" At this, Smara turned and in a light sibilant hiss said "Wake Harry"

"wha- what?"

she spoke again this time with the voice of his aunts "wake up Harry I said wake up!"

At this Harry lept from the exam table he was laying on and fumbled for his wand which wasn't where it should be. Which made him panic even more and he tried to bolt through the door.

A call of a female voice saying "Immobulus" and Harry froze pottering on one foot Before an unknown force balanced him.

"Now" said Andromeda. “Harry calm down, and stay still, I have scans to run and questions to ask and that is difficult enough when I'm not chasing you to Timbuktu I'm going to unfreeze you and if you continue to act like a startled colt I will perform a spell that will paralyze all but your head until I'm finished, do you understand?" she didn't wait for a response as it could not come with Harry being frozen the way he was.

"Finite." With that Harry was unfrozen and he stood still. He looked around and got his bearings. "Okay" he sighed out and looked around. "Okay, I'm fine now. I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything."

"It's alright" healer Tonks responded calmly. "Your brain just rewired itself you were going on Instinct. I have a few scans and a short few questions to Gauge what happened when the magic was severed, and then I'll read off the list for you."

"First question, who are you"

"Harry James Potter"

"Birthday?"

"July 31,1980"

"What just happened?"

"A brain scan to check for and sever foreign mind-magics that might have affected me."

"perfect" Andromeda smiled. "any loss of memory? any time in the past year?"

After a moment of recollection Harry shook his head and replied "no, I seem to remember everything I remembered before."

"Excellent." Andromeda replied while writing a piece of parchment on a clipboard. the whole time answering Andromeda questions she was waving and flicking her wand on and around Harry.

"Okay" said Andromeda. it looks like you're all clear of foreign influence of every kind. how about we read what the OPSEC scan showed shall we?

Chapter Text

Harry sat on the exam table, waiting. The other adults in the room waited as well as Andromeda read through the OPSEC results and organized them in her head. It seemed odd to him that his aunt seemed concerned about the results, most likely because they might very well list the outcome of how his aunt and uncle had raised or more so abused him through the years. Although the effects of his Quidditch injuries had been cured by Madam Pomfrey's healing, Harry felt that the test might also list any concussions he had sustained.

Finally, Andromeda spoke. "Hmm, yes, Harry. Whoever got ahold of you tried to tie your noodle into a knot.

No less than 16 compulsions: to obey authority, to not seek advice, to not trust any but a few indiscernible adults, to slack off and to ignore your education. There were more, but you get the picture—to make sure you learn as little as possible and not trust those around you unless you're told to trust them. These were cast by at least two different people, one was little more than an amateur, but one of them was a professional in compulsion magic and knew quite well what to do and how to apply the compulsions. I need to turn this into the WCPO and let them do an investigation. You need warrants to sample a person's magical signature and have it be admissible as evidence before the Wizengamot. Most of these had been overpowered by your magic and were dormant or ineffective but still present. They would have been a first instinct that you had to ignore rather than an ongoing drive to force your actions; this is because of your magical strength.

"Let's see where… ah!" Andromeda said, skimming the parchment until she found her target.

You had six potions lingering in your system. Four of them could be medicinal if you had any extreme or traumatic events happen in the last weeks of school?" Harry quickly nods. "A calming draught, dreamless sleep, memory suppression potion, and... DEAR ME! The phoenix revival elixir!"

She stares incredulously at Harry.

"Harry, what happened at that school?"

"Err... Professor Quirrell, who was possessed by the wraith of Voldemort, was trying to steal something from Dumbledore. To make a long story short, I stopped him and killed him due to some magical protection my mother left on me before she died. At least according to Dumbledore but I highly doubt Quirrell was immune to smaras venom like I am."

"..."

"..."

"..."

All three adults stared at him, open-mouthed, shocked, and appalled by how Harry so casually mentioned that he had a hand in killing someone.

"...Okay... okay, well then err, We'll circle back to that in a minute when my head processes what yihujusr said. Umm... right. So. Compulsions, potions... okay, so four medicinal, definitely. There was one fire suppression potion?"

“That was linked to the whole Quirrell thing," Harry quickly interjected.

"And a long-term loyalty potion, judging by the sheer presence of this position, it was being given to you regularly. Which, for anyone outside your family, dosing such a potion is illegal, and especially to a minor, so I'm going to have to report that as well to the WCPO. Other than that, there are a few minor spell effects, but nothing I can see as possibly malicious. All of those compulsions, whether effective, active, or dormant, are illegal and will go to build the case my husband is working on for you.

Now that that is out of the way. And Harry and I finally know each other. Why don't you come to dinner with my family one day this weekend? You have a cousin, Nymphadora Tonks. She graduated two years ago, but I bet she'd absolutely love meeting you.

her only other cousin is a stuck-up snob ..he's about your age, come to think of it. all well, we haven't seen him since he was born, so it doesn't matter.

What do you say to dinner on Saturday at six?"

"That sounds amazing! It will be good to actually meet relatives, even distant ones." Harry smiles brightly at this plan.

"Excellent! You can tell me all about this unpleasant event at Hogwarts. However, I suggest you tell Ted first.

Why didn't you bring this up to him before?" She asked looking for her husband.

"I don't know. I guess it didn't seem important."

"Hmpf! I thought so, one of your compulsions to downplay or keep silent about your troubles. This would affect everything from not understanding coursework and not asking for clarification to downplaying an extremely traumatic event as disinteresting and unimportant."

"Oh..." Harry replied sadly.

"Why would Dumbledore or whoever did this do this?"

Secrets, power, lies—a mix, or all three—the motivations of those who do wrong are sometimes unclear. Sometimes people are just broken and can't tell that their actions hurt people, and sometimes people simply don't care that their actions hurt people because they get what they want out of the equation." Andromeda leans against the small desk in the room.

For example, my sisters. Both my sisters joined the dark side. Bella, my older sister, joined because she could do what she wanted. It just so happened that what she wanted to do was hurt people.

My younger sister, Narcissa, joined because she and her husband got what they wanted: power, influence, and wealth.

Both joined an evil organization for their own benefit, and I'm sure they both thought they were doing good all the while.

Well, Harry, it was lovely to finally meet you. I'll see you on Saturday. I'll not keep you any longer, nor can I if i wanted to. I have many patients to see, and your appointment took much longer than expected, so I must go attend to the others. Goodbye for now." And with that, she walked out.

"Well.”said Ted. “Come on, then. I'll escort you out and take you home, Petunia. Then, Harry and I will go back to my office so he can tell me about anything he can remember that might singe Dumbledore's whiskers."

With that, they set out and left the hospital. After a short and harrowing squeeze through a garden hose that left his aunt gagging again but just left him winded, they were back at Privet Drive just as Vernon pulled up from work his face immediately soured . Before another altercation could ensue, however, mister Tonks grabbed Harry, twisted him on the spot, and off, they were again, coming into existence in Ted's office.

"WHAT IS THAT!" Harry gasped out, sick of the sudden teleportation. He stared at the older man in exasperation.

"Apparition," Ted said simply. "It's a highly advanced magical skill. Simply put, it's the ability to dematerialize from one place and materialize instantly in another. It's incredibly difficult; only about 12 out of every 30 wizards can apparate, and only 7 of those 12 can do so with regular success. Most people really only learn to apparate to and from work and home. You have to perfectly visualize the place you want to go. You have to not only be insanely competent but also confident. One second guess during the event might result in what's known as splinching—leaving a part of yourself behind which can be extremely painful and dangerous.

I defended a case just last month where a kid who was in the process of going to apparition classes was doing the mental exercises recommended and then sneezed and accidentally released his magic and apparated clear to the middle of a muggle street full of people and he splinched himself as well. He left his nose, an ear, and four fingers behind. He was charged with apparition without a license and muggle baiting, but I was able to clear him of all charges. He was a muggle-born, so it's a harder concept for us starting out. I understood not only what happened but why it happened, and I was able to persuade the Wizengamot to see my way of things.

Ted said all this, smiling reminiscently.

"Well," said Harry, "I can't say I'm much of a fan myself."

"No, you wouldn't be alone. Many capable people don't bother with it. They prefer the Floo or broomsticks. They're slower but safer."

"How old do you have to be to Apparate or get a license?" asked Harry.

"Seventeen when magicals comes of age." Ted used air quotes. "So, all that aside, tell me, Harry, about these mysterious events at Hogwarts this year that were, oh, so not important."

And so Harry spent the next hour detailing the events of his first year, from killing a troll to save a girl and then befriending her, about breaking school rules and accidentally finding Fluffy, about how Hermione and his imaginations were captured trying to figure out what the giant dog was guarding. Harry explained about Norbert, about his detention in the forest and coming across the thing that fed on unicorns. He explained, still in quiet reverence, the Mirror and how Dumbledore explained its powers to him. He told Ted about his scar and how it started to hurt him at odd times and his suspicions of Snape, of the countless hours spent trying to find Nicholas Flamel after Hagrid had let the name slip, and the discovery of the Sorcerer's Stone, about a choking plant, flying keys, a concussed troll, a chess match and a friend's sacrifice, and the cleverness of a girl in her defeat of logic, and then about that final confrontation, the words, the desperation, the pain, and waking up in the hospital wing and Dumbledore explaining how he had nearly died as a result of the confrontation.

"But wait a minute. You left out your snake friend? Come now, where does she fit in?" Ted asks egregiously.

"Smara? That's really not as interesting a story as you're probably thinking it is. I met her by chance a few nights after Christmas, the night after Dumbledore told me how to use the mirror. I was wandering around under the invisibility cloak, and I could hear her slithering around the pipes, complaining about the cold and not getting enough to eat. Although she had just eaten someone's cat, she was complaining that it hardly registered as a snack. No idea whose—no one ever put up a notice about a missing cat that I know of. Anyway, I was... I don't know, fascinated? Enthralled? I couldn't help but follow the voice, and when I followed it, I came to this bathroom and then to a sink in the bathroom. She caught on that I was following her. At that point, I was shouting, trying to get her attention, but I think she had tuned out the rest of the school after nearly a millennium of having no one to talk to. Anyway, she told me how to open the hidden passage that the sink concealed, and when I did, she came out with a truly massive head and the upper portion of a snake."

"A Morsel! Can you hear my voice, little one?"

"Y-y-yes, ma'am."

"Manners!" The massive snake made a noise akin to smooth rock sliding across ice.

"You are a ssspeaker. It has been many yearsss since I last met one of your kind."

Harry meant to ask what the snake's name was, but instead it came out like, "W-what a-are y-you?" Another round of the skittering sound followed the question.

"What am I? Morssssel? Have the sssstandardssss fallen so low in my father's absssenccce that my ssspeciesss is unknown?"

Harry, realizing he was being chastised by the enormous serpent, stammered out his own defense. "Well, I-I wasn't raised magical. I was brought up by my aunt and uncle, and they're both Muggles. The Muggle world doesn't have snakes your size."

"Hmm, a Muggle-born. My father would not like you. How is it you have his gift, this ssserpentsss tongue of yoursss?"

Harry, relaxing somewhat, sensed that he wasn't in immediate danger, other than this snake having the same dominating presence as Professor McGonagall.

"I'm not Muggle-born? My father was from an old wizarding family. My name is Harry Potter."

"Potter? My father had a cousssin whosse name was Potter. How he hated him." The snake flashed its fangs at him as if to emphasize her father's hatred, they were as long as some of the sabers that hung high on the walls of the school.

"Why are you doing that? hissing on any s in a word. He smiles trying to put on a friendly demeanor. You sound ridiculous."

the huge snake hissed at him, opening her jaws to show her huge teeth. “DO NOT THINK TO INSSSULT ME MORSEL! I AM THE QUEEN OF ALL SSSERPENTSSS." she snapped her jaws together near inches from his face and causes Harry to fall back on his rear end. "Once, there was a time when wizards of all ages and backgrounds were smart enough not to anger the basilisk."

"I apologize, great queen. I meant no offense. It's just that I have talked to three snakes before you, and none of them spoke like that."

She sat silently for a minute looking at him. "Would you help me, SSSpeaker? The fracctured bond with the broken one tearsss at my mind, and I dissslike being asss I am."

"Of course. What do you need?"

"My name is SSSmaragain SSSlytherin, firssst daughter and firssst bonded of SSSalazar SSSlytherin. And I wissshhh to bond with you, SSSpeaker. It would free me from the Broken Ones' pale influence."

"How do I do that? How do we bond?"

"Do you have a flasssk, young one?"

Harry quickly feels the pockets of his school robes but can find nothing; his pockets, for once, are empty.

"No Smaragdine. I am only a first-year, so I don't carry potion equipment with me."

The snake, still looking at the floor, deep in thought for a minute, before she raises herself completely from the pipe she resided in, as her head disappeared down the pipe, she called to Harry.

"SSStay hereeee."

She retreats down the hole in the floor, revealing a long, deep, and dark tunnel.

She went away for several minutes but then returned and deposited a small, bronze goblet covered in thick saliva into his hands.

"Here carefull with thissss it wasssss my fathersssss. you need to drink my sssaliva mixxxed within my vvvenom."

She places a fang in the cup and seems to scrunch her face as a thick, green liquid shoots from her fang.

"Dont worry it sssshould not harm a sssssspeaker. though ide wait till you are enssscccconccccced in your bed for it will most likely knock you out for sssseveral daysssss."

Harry went on to explain how he drank the horrid concoction and simply slept for two days afterward. "Didn't anyone ask questions as to where you were or come looking for you?" Ted asked, puzzled.

"McGonagall did, but I was the only one in Gryffindor Tower who stayed at Christmas. I just told her I wasn't feeling well when she managed to wake me up, and that when I'm sick, I just sleep a lot; which is true, a product of not having adults care for me when I was sick growing up. She had some house-elves bring me some meals." Harry explained this in a tired and withdrawn voice.

"Alright, Mr. Potter. I believe it's time we got you home. I have all I need from you today."

Later that day, after a short apparition to Privet Drive, Harry sat at the desk in his room, penning a letter to Hermione Granger, his best friend and academic rival.

"Hey, Hermione,

It's been very hectic since my last letter. How are you doing? I bet France would be a blast to visit one day. Though I'll have to bring you along when I go. I don't doubt that you know all the best places to be and see.

Anyway, my lawyer, an interesting older man by the name of Ted Tonks, is actually related to me, it turns out. His wife was my dad's cousin, and apparently, aside from my aunt, he is my closest living blood relative. I'm having dinner with them this Saturday.

Mr. Tonks has set a date for my emancipation hearing with the Wizengamot. I hope you can make it there, at least for moral support. I'd ask for a testimony on my behalf, but I don't think the word of an underage witch is going to sway any hearts or minds in either direction.

Have you started that essay for Snape yet? I finished my first outline, and I still need to add half a foot of length to reach the requirement. I suppose I'll need to go to Diagon Alley for more reference material. Knowing you, it won't be a problem for you, but how he can expect eleven-year-olds to know enough about nightshade to write a two-foot essay about it, I don't know. Still, I suppose we do have all summer to add to it and research. Have you heard from Ron this summer yet? I'm sorry to say I haven't really thought much about him since school let out. He's a fine bloke and all, but I can't really see our friendship going much further unless he matures and gets more serious about his learning. I have a feeling that with Voldemort out there, I'll have to know as much as possible just to stay alive, and even more if I want to actually beat him.

Hoping to hear from you soon,

Harry Potter

It was Friday before he knew it. Not much had gone on. The Dursleys had locked him in his room when he was in the house, but yesterday he had woken up close to 5 a.m. and had simply dressed and left, bringing Smara with him. He roamed around Little Whinging, telling Smara about growing up there. He had returned to number 4 shortly before dark and ate the meager meal his aunt gave him, though it seemed he got a larger portion than usual.

He wasn't sure what today had in store for him. The last note he had received from Mr. Tonks had spoken about a development, but they'd discuss it after dinner on Saturday. He wished that Hermione was back in the country; he could go see her. It would be a nice break. He'd almost finished all his summer work. The information on nightshade was actually found on a broader read-through of 1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi, not just the poison section. He'd blown through the Transfiguration essay just on memory, and the Charms assignment took seemingly no time at all. It had been a very busy but dull Wednesday. All in all, he was two weeks into his summer holiday and couldn't wait for the next week to pass. He was anxious to be rid of Privet Drive.

"So, Your Highness, what shall we do today?"

"We should find you some real food instead of the pittance these filthy Muggles give you. I can feel your hunger, morsel. You cannot hide it from our bond. I do not understand why you will not let me grow to my proper size so that I may eat the fat one, he will keep me full for a year."

"NO! Smara,uncle vernon is way to muchgristle for you he'd Give you indigestion, besides as much as I HATE them all I don't want them dead, we should find you a meal."

Harry sits and thinks for a minute, deciding on a course of action.

"Well, well, we need to go to London to go to Gringotts so I can change out some galleons for pounds. We should get going now; the Knight Bus is always busy in the to ted"

A few minutes later, Harry is dressed and out the door. He's standing on the edge of the car park when his aunt steps out.

"Boy, where are you going?" Petunia asked curtly.

"We're going to London, to the bank, and to get something for Smara to eat. The serpent raised her head off Harry's shoulder and hissed at the older woman, unwilling not to show his aunt her distain."

"EEEP! EHH. er ummm yes well do becareful.

and bring milk ill need it for tonights dinner."

Yes, Aunt Petunia.

"How are you getting to London? You can't "appatate," can you?"

"oh were going on the knight bus." explained harry pointing to a purple brochure on the table next to her.

Fifteen minutes later, the Knight Bus dropped Harry off at the Leaky Cauldron. As he stepped out, people shouted his name and were about to approach him, but the first patrons saw Samra wrapped tightly around his arm and shoulders, and that seemed to dissuade most people, though not all. Tom, the barman, would never be deterred from greeting a customer, especially Harry, at least in his limited experience.

"Good day, Mr. Potter. Good day. Heading through?" Tom asked, looking rather happy to help him in any way he could.

"Not right now, no. I was going to go get some galleons changed to pounds so I could eat, but I forgot about this place." Harry smiles at the toothless old man.

"So, what are you serving today? I haven't had a good meal in days."

" ahh, excellent most excellent I can whip you up most anything in a jiffy what would you like?"

"How about a full English?"

"Easy enough, Mr. Potter. I'll have it out soon. What about your friend there?" he said, still pointing at Smara.

Tom doesn't even blink at the brief exchange in Parslemouth as Harry asks her.

"She said unless you have a guinea pig or other large rodent, she'll wait until she can get her something fresher than bar food."

A short hiss followed, causing Harry to quirk an eyebrow at the snake.

"No offense, of course," Harry translated again.

"No rodents, miss. I apologize; no offense taken, none at all."

Tom scurries off, probably to make or carry food, leaving Harry to find a seat, which he does in a lonesome corner, half-removed from the other patrons around him. It was a short while later, as Harry sat discussing practical uses for Transfiguration with Dedalus Diggle after the man got over the shock of seeing the snake wrapped around Harry, that the man approached and began a conversation with Harry as he ate and just continued afterward. For the first time, Harry felt like he belonged to the wider Wizarding community and not just a spectacle.

After his lunch, he decided to indeed go to Diagon Alley and so first stopped at Gringotts and pulled out several hundred galleons as well as converted 100 galleons to 1000 pounds, all kept in his brand-new magically expanded bag. Harry first stopped by the Magical Menagerie to inquire what he should buy for Smara as a feeder animal. That was a stunningly awkward conversation as he had never attempted to be so bla-sé about intentionally killing something before.

The shop clerk nearly ran out of the shop when she noticed Smara, as she instantly recognized what the seemingly small serpent was.

"Please wait." Harry held out his hand to stop the store clerk.

"Please, she won't hurt you. I promise. My name is Harry Potter."

This seemed to get the woman's attention, so she stopped.

"Young man, do you have any idea what that thing is that you have wrapped around your neck like a scarf?" she asked incredulously.

"Of course I do. Why?"

"My boy, that is a basilisk, not some garden snake you show off to your friends. My word! How are you—we are not dead?"

"Smara is not some mindless beast intent on killing and destruction." Her eyes don't kill because she has her inner eyelids covering them.

"Amazing, inner eyelids, you say? Young man, would you permit me to study your basilisk? Not much is known of the species. It seems the creation of this animal is highly, highly illegal. noone has the proper permissions on the British Isles, I don't think."

"Well, that's not a problem. Smara is around 1,000 years old. She was created by Salazar Slytherin. You know, that reminds me, I need to have Smara registered with the Ministry."

The shop owner seems to steady herself. "Okay, well, what do you need for your friend there?"

"I just need to know what would be best to feed her. Everything I ask her, she says she can hunt for herself or 'your enemies.'"

"You said she's 1,000 years old? She seems no larger than the hatchlings are, as reported."

"That's because of our bond. She's my familiar and used my magic to shrink down. She's about 60 feet long."

"Well, for her current size, will eating this size sustain her?" The owner throws Smara a curious look and branches off somewhat when Smara nods back at her. "Then I'd recommend guinea pigs or something of a similar size, just the garden variety. No need for magical animals, I'd say... You know, lad, it might behoove you to sell her venom, and if she's lost any fangs, sell those as well. Basilisk ingredients are some of the most expensive. For the venom, you'd probably receive 100 galleons per ounce."

"I'll consider it, but it's ultimately Smaras' decision."

"Do you sell guinea pigs, or do I need to go to a muggle shop?

"Oh yes, dear, I do not worry. Keep them in the back with the rest of the feeder animals. Would she like one or two?"

After a short exchange, Harry indicates that two would be sufficient, and the poor things never make it out of the shop. Smara said says she will need to nap for a while afterward, and the shop owner is kind enough to volunteer an out-of-the-way window sill with plenty of sunlight. Harry says goodbye to Smara so she can nap while the shop owner starts to draw her and take measurements and scans (all with Smara's consent). He walked out and went to other shops nearby: Ilop's Owl Emporium, Frank's Curiosity (A magical equipment and antique shop, Stem and Stow, a large shop that sold stationary and other writing supplies, and of course, Flourish and Blots. Harry needed to buy a collection of good reference books for the coming years as well as a few in-depth how-to books on potion things from his grade level to above master class and a handy book on advanced ingredient preparation and potion brewing. (Apparently, a simple thing like an anticlockwise stir in between a group of clockwise stirs could speed up the brewing and mixing processes without damaging the potions, who knew?) And finally, to Tapping's Trappings, an amazing store that sold every type of luggage known to wizards, there Harry bought two magically expanded and Featherlight trunks that boasted of being mobile libraries, each monogrammed, one with HP, the other with HG. As a birthday gift for Hermione, who no doubt had more books than space, he only had a small collection of books, and even he had been running low and had often wondered where to put these massive tomes.

With all his purchases in his trunk, he went back to retrieve Smara. Within an hour, he was back in his room at Privet Drive, satisfied with the day's activities. Smara (still sleeping) was curled up under his blankets as he himself drifted off for a nap.

Chapter Text

“Hello, Harry.

I'm sorry this is getting to you so late. I have been out of our rooms from sunup to sundown. My father insisted I learn to surf like a pro in three days. I am so sore I can hardly move, but I have had a blast. I think you would like surfing; it's a bit like riding a broom, but more involved, you know, you have to learn how to balance on a moving liquid.

I have also spoken to my parents, and we will be back home the day before your hearing, so you can be sure I'll be there. IN FACT, they've permitted you to stay the night before the hearing so we will be able to go together!. My dad said that if you're good enough, they just might decide to keep you. I'll warn you now that my mother is an even bigger hugger than I am.

I would, of course, love to come with you when you come to France and show you around. There are so many beautiful places I want to show you, especially the beach. The local beach to our resort is, shall we say, "clothing frowned upon." I would love to take you there, if for no other reason than I'm pretty sure your head would explode. but the view of the ocean is fantastic!

I met a girl there today, a few years older than us, named Fleur Delacour. Guess what? She's a witch! We had a blast. After the sun went down, she and her mother invited us to their château (her father is chief deputy under the French Minister of Magic). I was able to show my parents actual magic, and Madame Delacour and Fleur showed them what fully qualified witches can do.

Although Fleur and her mother and little sister are what's known as Veela, they have this aura that makes most men's brains go all funny. So if you never meet them, I'll try not to hold anything against you.They are all very pretty. Quite disconcertingly pretty.

I'm meeting Fleur tomorrow, and she'll be taking me to the French version of Diagon Alley for a day of "shopping." She has insisted on paying so “that I can't say no” when she tries to stuff me into whatever ridiculous outfit she had in mind. but it should be good fun.

I'm very excited to see you soon!

With love,
Hermione Granger”

Harry folded the letter back up, put it on his desk, and thanked his owl for the delivery. "Go on to sleep, Hedwig. I'll write to her in a few days." The owl quickly fluttered to her perch and hid her face under her wing. "Smaragain?" The snake opened her eyes, but he did not speak. "I've been wondering, how are you so young?"

"what do you mean, morsel?"

"Well, through our bond, you, your energy ,your mind that connection that we both feel, you feel young.

"ahhh, yes I suppose that would seem odd. My mind has been this way since birth. I know not if it's a characteristic of all basilisk or if it is something that my father did to ease communication. I have never met another of my kind. I have no idea if my species is normally as mad as our cousin the cockatrice. as for how I remained so for a thousand years?... I was in my father's service for 70 years. When Salazar left Hogwarts, he left me there deep in a magical stasis linked by the very wards of Hogwarts. he left me there to await being woken by his true heir to purge those from the school he saw as unfit. I was as the dead since then until a young man woke me up. shortly after that, my mind mottled over, and the broken one did something to me. I could not think for myself or act for myself. it was like that until your presence shattered what spell I was under. this is why I was so desperate to bond with you just in case when you left my presence, I would revert. and my worries were well founded by the time I retrieved my father's chalice for you. I could feel myself slipping back under whatever was wrong with me. so my mind, personality and experience is only 150 or so even if I am actually much older than that for a species as long lived as mine it is quite young."

"But...if you were seventy when you were put into stasis, how are you so big, once you were under a stasis Powered by Hogwarts you shouldn't grow right? you'd have no food to fuel the growth. not unless basilisks can feed on ambient magic." Smara then made that skating sound like rocks bouncing off ice. the sound of Samaras' laughter still unnerved him even after he realized what the sound was.

"I am not this large through normal means. my father developed a process that would greatly enhance the natural growth cycle of anything, it is detailed in a book in my father's personal library ...I shall need to take you there when we are back at the school."

“and Hermione too, I go to an ancient hidden and long-lost library full of personal, handwritten books by one of the founders of Hogwarts and possibly other lost or forgotten knowledge and not taker her with me? She'd kill me."

"Be that as it may young one. the day grows long, and it is time for you to get ready for this dinner with your cousin. you have only been jabbering about it all week."

"A fine point, Smaragain."With that, Harry climbed into his new truck. It was supposed to be a library, but he only had enough books for three shelves, so he figured he'd use it as a closet in the meantime. He grabbed some pressed and folded robes and his Hogwarts uniform shirt and slacks—both black—and then a sweater vest trimmed with gold and crimson. They were, after all, the nicest clothes he had. He had to restrain himself from smacking himself for not thinking about buying clothes that actually fit him yesterday. Clothes and dress shoes in hand, he climbed out of his trunk only to stop midway out. His aunt and uncle were standing there, their eyes wide. Uncle Vernon very rapidly turned a very violent shade of puce.

"WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT YOU DOING THIS UNNATURALNESS IN MY HOUSE HOW DAR!-"

Aunt Petunia had flown around and clamped her husband's mouth shut. "Out! I will not have it! Every time you two have it out, the neighbors look more and more curious. With any luck, we'll be rid of him in a week. Until then, you WILL behave yourselves! Both of you!"

She turns quickly to face Harry as Vernon lumbers off down the hall grumbling the whole time.

"How long will this dinner take? Vernon has a very important potential client coming for dinner. If he arranges a deal, he could face a promotion as well as a substantial commission, and we can't have this dinner ruined by any unexpected disturbances." Harry sits and listens as his aunt explains.

"Well, I don't know how long it will last. Andromeda seemed to like me, so I don't think she'd have any problem with me staying late. I know I wouldn't come back here if I had a choice." Harry muttered this under his breath while glancing in the direction his uncle disappeared in.

"It's four now," his aunt said. "When will Mr. Tonks be around to pick you up? The masons will be here at six."

"Oh no! Mister Tonks will be here at six as well."

Aunt Petunia stiffens now, even as she was about to start berating the boy, but it hits her that the Masons had made plans after Harry, so it wasn't his fault. She was trying to keep the peace right now, so she couldn't outright blame him, no matter whose fault it was or not.

"Wait," said Harry. "This might benefit you all."

Vernon walked in, having passed by and gotten everything ready for the night. “Explain,” the walrus said through squinted eyes and gritted teeth.

"Well, Mr. Tonks is a lawyer," explained Harry calmly. "If I leave at the same time your clients get here, then you can explain to them, after a brief introduction, that I'm your nephew. I'll introduce Mr. Tonks, and mention that we were going to dinner for the junior law society. Mr. Tonks can give them a business card. The Masons will be impressed, and I'll be out of your hair for the evening. That sounds perfect, right?"

Vernon, Harry thought, looked rather impressed by this impromptu plan.

"Well, alright then. That sounds like a good plan. But you better dress properly, boy. I've seen the getups your lot wear."

Harry smiled. "That's the thing, Mr. Tonks doesn't wear robes unless he's in front of the Wizengamot." At the nonplussed looks his aunt and uncle had, Harry explained. "Our magical society's governing and judicial body."

"YOUR LOT IN GOVERNMENT. Oh, that explains so much. No wonder this country is going to the dogs."

"Err... right. Well, he doesn't wear robes, so he won't show up in them. But if I'm in the Junior Law Society, then it could be explained that I'm the reigning judge for the night and that I liked the outfit, so I just wanted to wear it out. I'm a kid; we do weird things, so they won't think much of it."

Vernon stood deep in thought for a minute and then nodded. "That might work well. Good. We'll go with that then."

It was two hours late when the Masons arrived and at first looked askance at Harry's odd outfit until it was explained that he was, in fact, headed to a meeting and dinner with the junior law society.

With the arrival of Mr. Tonks and a short discussion with Masons, there was an exchange of business cards and a hasty farewell. Saw Harry and Mr. Tonks out of the house and after some quick wand work, the masons hadn't a second thought about the fact that no other car had been in the car park before they left. A short apparition trip later that barely bothered Harry at all, and they arrived at the Tonks house. He could hear semi-loud music from inside that grew louder when Ted opened the door and walked in.

"I'm back!"

"Oh, good. That took longer than expected."

"Yes, well, Harry's aunt and uncle had guests, so we had to do a bit of a hat trick to get out of there. You're looking at the newest member of the Junior Law Society!" he says as he claps Harry on the shoulder.

"Granted, I did buy some books yesterday on Wizarding law, so I guess you could say we didn't lie. I'm just the only member.” Everyone had a good chuckle at that one.

"Well, come on. Come in. Dinner is almost ready—in another 45 minutes or so. And I guess you're staying late to avoid any trouble with your uncle's dinner. Ted has mentioned how the man is with you." Andromeda said this with a face that said she was wholly unimpressed with his relatives. She turned and yelled, "NYMPHADORA! HURRY DOWN! YOUR COUSIN HAS ARRIVED!"

Quick footsteps were heard as well as several loud thumps and a rather loud expletive that made the older woman drop her worried look and scowl instead. Then a young girl tripped down the stairs but managed to catch herself before she tumbled. "Damn! That Dawlish is trying to kill me, Mum. I know it. He had me changing my height so much this week I can't find my footing no matter what. My brain either thinks my feet are too small or too short. That wizard is going to be the death of me, just you wait." The young woman then seemed to notice Harry as she stopped mid-rant. "Wotcher, Harry!" The girl smiled and she stuck out her hand to shake his, and he was about to reciprocate the gesture but then he noticed the girl, Nymphadora's eyes were cycling through every color of the rainbow before settling on green with a bright red corona around the iris. "Wow! How do I learn to do that?!"

"Hah!" she laughs solidly for a moment.

" I wondered how you'd react to that. Sorry, Harry, but I'm afraid I can't learn that little trick. I'm a metamorphmagus, which means I was born with the ability to change my appearance at will. I received perfect scores in Concealment and Disguise during my Auror entrance exams. It was my terrible stealth skills that nearly got me caught, though. I'm incredibly clumsy, as you just heard from my walking."

"It's great to meet you, Nymphadora—AAAHH!" Harry had to jump and dodge four or five times as she jumped into trying to hex him. It surprised her when he was not only able to avoid and dodge her spells but that he did so in a way that got him closer to her, and he was able to snatch her wand from her hand and point it at her. And then the second heart attack came as a snake crept down Harry's sleeve and hissed at her. The red-orange eyes of the snake seemed to glow slightly in the semi-dark room.

"Sorry, Harry, no offense. It's a reflex. I do it to everyone except" —she points to Andromeda— "her, who calls me by that name. It's Tonks, please, just Tonks."

The snake and Harry share a look, and it slithers back up his sleeve and pokes out of his collar.

"Why don't you like your name?" Harry returns her wand.

" You wouldn't like your name either if your fool of a mother named you nymphadora."

"Nymphadora! There is nothing wrong with your name. Nymphadora is a perfectly lovely name, and it's a family tradition to name our children after the stars and constellations. Let me also note that Harry has black blood, and it's a fine tradition."

Harry smiled at the mention of a family tradition. "Sirius, Andromeda, Nymphadora. I like it, although I must say I'm with Tonks on this one. Nymphadora is a tad ridiculous."

The older woman scowled at him. "I thought introducing you to her might be a bad thing. I can see a fast friendship already forming." She then smiled brightly at the young children. "It's good you two get along. My daughter has been deprived of familial companionship for too long.

“My cousin Sirius and I were inseparable as children, even as young adults we were close, until..." She hung her head and turned away.

"You've mentioned this Sirius Black a couple of times now. What happened to him?"

She stopped in her path and turned back to Harry and said. "That, Harry, is a conversation for another time. I'll check on dinner. Dora, would you entertain Harry for a bit? Maybe show him some of your advanced defense books?" And she turned this time with a smirk, "Or take him to the backyard and show him just how good a duelist you are. Harry, you can do magic here; it won't register too much ambient magic for the Trace to function correctly."

Thus, everyone separated. Tonks led Harry to the backyard.

"So Harry, have you ever been in a duel?"

"Err... no, I'm only just now going into the second year."

Tonks shrugs. "It doesn't really matter.” Her hair cycles through different colors and then shrinks to shorter than his while being a wild sky blue. “Do you know the Stinging Hex, Harry?" At his nod, she smiles and backs away. "Perfect. Now, the point of a duel is normally to incapacitate your opponent in some way, but I think we'll stick with a five-point system: one point per spell contact. Now, since you're just an itsy-bitsy firsty, I'll go easy on you. You only have to hit me three times, and I have to hit you five times. Only non-harmful spells from you, please, Harry. I don't want to have my mum patch either of us up because you sent out a Diffindo or something. Are you ready?"

Harry gets a serious look on his face and nods slowly.

"Good, first we raise up a wand to cover our faces, hand touching the center of your breastbone, straight-backed. Good, just like that. And then, flare your hand out and to the back." Harry does this.

“perfect

1.

2.

3.

ictus. ictus. ictus.”

Harry dodged each of her spells, dodged back the way he came, lunged, and jumped toward Tonks. While in the air, he sent a "Petrificus Totalus!" which struck her right in the chest. She froze as her arms and legs snapped straight, and she fell straight back.

Harry walked up. "I would send those stinging hexes at you, but that might be overkill. Finite incantatem." Harry sends the spell at her, unfreezing her.

"No fair! I didn't expect you to know that one—that's a third-year spell at least, and Hogwarts doesn't teach it!”

"Yeah," Harry chuckles. "I have a friend who likes to read ahead. Probably read about it in a library book. She used it on another kid who was trying to stop us from leaving the common room at night last year." At her incredulous look, Harry quickly explained why that had happened.

"Well, round two then?"

Of course, though, I don't think I'll be able to surprise you this time."

And it was true. Harry, while able to duck and dodge very well, just didn't have the experience to catch Tonks without tricks. He was down in ten minutes. As Harry lay in the grass, breathing hard, a question popped into his head.

"Tonks?"

"Yea, Harry?" she said from beside him.

"You said a word earlier that I don't know, "auror," what is that?”

"Oh, that's my job. Well, it will be after I get the proby phase out of the way.”

“An auror, Harry, is a Dark wizard catcher. We go after the big-name criminals and the dangerous operations, while the everyday stuff like Apparating without a license or shoplifting is handled by the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol. The Aurors are the best of the best. We have to be, outside of having the second highest standards for Hogwarts graduates. They also require three to four extra years of education and training after graduation to even earn the title. I'm currently starting the third core of the training program since I was accepted right out of Hogwarts.

"That sounds amazing. Maybe I can get in. Sounds like the kind of thing that would help me if Voldemort's ghost keeps popping up."

"You definitely have the right instincts for fighting. How's your potions grade?"

Harry squints and wrinkles his nose, causing Tonks to laugh. "It would be much better if Snape didn't consistently grade me two to three places lower than I probably should be."

Tonks sits up at that, alarmed. "Do you have proof of that, Harry? I know Snape's a biased ass As much as any student of Hogwarts. But saying he purposely sabotages your grades is a big accusation.”

"Of course I don't have any proof. If I did, I would have submitted it to Dumbledore."

"Kids! Dinner!"

"I am not a child, Mother!"

Andromeda smiles at her daughter.

"Of course you are a child. Daughters never grow up. They remain three years old with pigtails and skinned knees forever. Now, come along before I send your food to Charlie. I'm sure he could do with it far more than you anyway."

And so, dinner was had. The conversation was light and cheerful once Harry finished retelling the story of his first year, which sent the Tonks family into a near-apoplectic rage—except for Dora, who almost seemed jealous.

After dinner was eaten and dessert was devoured, and the stories of youth and peoples past were over, Ted gestured for Harry to follow him into his home office.

As Harry sat at the fine mahogany desk, he glanced about the cozy room. The office was decorated in steel grays and quiet greens. A few unknown plants decorated the tops of the various bookshelves that were filled with what Harry believed to be law reference books. The desk itself was sparsely decorated with only a green placemat with what seemed to be a gold ink pot and a stand with two fine eagle feather quills, a favorite of Harry's as well.

"So, we are in the home stretch, as the Americans would say. Your hearing is next Friday, and so far, it appears that Dumbledore is none the wiser about our schemes. With any luck, Mr. Potter, we can catch him wholly unawares."
N9t
I don't think that he will miss the hearing, but where Dumbledore is concerned, the more wrong-footed we can make him, the better it will possibly be for us, the less time he has to prepare a defense for his actions and inactions and their consequences on your life.

To that end, I have arranged for you to meet with two well-respected members of the Wizengamot, both leaders of their respective factions. They will undoubtedly have others from their factions in their meetings as well. You, Harry, are about to rub elbows with some of the most important people in the country. To be precise, this Sunday, you'll be meeting with Madam Longbottom, who leads the fourth largest faction in the Wizengamot, "the marginal progressives." Great name, right? It's technically a sub-faction of the number two spot led by Dumbledore, which he simply calls "the light." Rather pompous way of saying everything he does is right, just, and in no way harmful to anyone.

The other person is Cyrus Greengrass, who leads "traditionalists”, some of whom are blood supremacists, and a bit bigoted, but most of them just care about preserving wizarding traditions in a changing world. A noble goal that I largely agree with in principle, even if most of the more level headed “centrists” in their party only care about how much money they rake in through old business. They are the reason that muggle "artifacts" get banned and restricted, like paper or ballpoint pens. Wouldn't want the quill and parchment sales to decrease after all." Ted rolls his eyes, "So, Madam Augusta Longbottom and Cyrus Greengrass, I believe you know their grandson and daughter, respectively."

"Err...Yeah, Neville is in Gryffindor with me, and Daphne Greengrass is a Slytherin. Why would her dad...why would any of these important people want to help me?"

"Can you not think of a single reason, Harry? Not one?"

Harry sits and thinks for a few minutes but can't come up with any answer that makes logical sense.

"No, sir. I can't. I simply don't know either of them very well, so I can't say I can predict why their families act in any way."

“Okay, Harry, let me explain. It's quite simple, really; political capital. Simply put, if they help you, you will be more inclined to help them later on. You, Harry, do not come from an irrelevant family or lineage. You are in line to receive not one but two of the largest fortunes in the nation, built over a millennia; the Potter family fortune and the Black family fortune, which has been frozen ever since the last Lord Black, Orion, passed some seven years ago. It should have gone to Sirius, but he will most likely never see the light of day again, so the Black fortune was put into contest by Lucius Malfoy, who thought that the fortune should go to his son and thus his family. But then something happened, and I guess the family seal rejected his son. They tried Andromeda and even Doraafter her. They eventually gave up and went to Sirius to sort it out. I'm his lawyer, so I was brought along as well. With a lot of half-mad ranting, he was able to tell us that he named you his successor the day after you were born. It made sense, there was a war on, and Lucius was on the other side. If Sirius was killed, then the fortune would fund the very people Sirius was fighting against. at the time Anyway…”

"So, these people are just trying to -"

"Harry, no,stop that line of thinking. This has nothing to do with taking advantage of you. not in the crude way you're imagining, it's simple quid pro quo, they scratch your back now, you scratch theirs later.” Ted spoke in a stern voice that brokered no reproach. The two sat silently for a minute before Ted continued.

"I said the reason was simple, but that's only the most obvious reason and most likely the reason for Cyrus's interest. But don't hold that against him. Politics are a delicate and precise balancing act; currying favors is a simple part of it, that you will understand the benefits of when you are older and have cooled that hot head of yours. Don't write Cyrus off as a bad person either. He's an ass, yes, and a blood supremacist in some ways, but he cares more for Wizarding culture and tradition than who your parents are. The man sees wizards as superior, but he doesn't even necessarily hate Muggles either. In fact, he invests heavily in Muggle businesses. Now, Madam Longbottom, however, has other motivations for helping you aside from the usual tit-for-tat. The Potters and Longbottoms have been aligned for the past seven generations. Her main focus in helping you is the reinvigoration of that partnership, both politically and economically. You see, aside from the political partnership, your grandfather's grandfather set up a business deal with the Longbottoms.

Your family is land-rich. You have tracts of land. I don't know how much in Somerset, but potters are better potioneers than planters, and the Longbottoms have no land but generally have a very green thumb. They put the two together and started Potters Pots and Potions, an apothecary in Diagon Alley that closed after your grandfather's death. James had no interest in potions, and the war prevented him from organizing the sale of the business or restructuring it to be run by others. After the death of your parents, the family properties went into lockdown, and the business fell apart after that with none at the head. The building is still empty. You probably passed it a few times. It is number 94 Diagon Alley. There is also another reason these people want to help you, one which I can't believe you can't think of. Care to guess?"

"I don't know, perhaps it's because I'm an orphan." Harry said snippily. Harry had always hated the fact of his parents' deaths being pointed out to him.

"You're actually very close, Harry," Ted smiled, though somewhat sadly. "You're the boy who lived, Harry. The boy who seemingly rescued us all from that terrible creature known as Lord Voldemort. You're the boy that everyone in this nation feels that they owe something to, and if taking you away from a situation that you not only don't like but is physically harming you... honestly, Cyrus Greengrass might be a more staunch supporter of getting you out of here than Augusta. He hates child abusers, and legislation that helps children is the only time he will always vote for a bill to pass. So, your meeting with Augusta is on Sunday and with Cyrus next Tuesday. I want you to come over on Monday night. My wife will show you how to conduct yourself like a proper little lord in training. Does that sound good? Any questions?”

"No, I think you covered everything."

"Good. In the meantime," Mr. Tonks hefts a large book from under his desk, shrank it with a quick jab of his wand, and tossed it to Harry, who caught it easily and gently. "I want you to read this as fast as you can, it's a book on proper etiquette for traditional Wizarding events. This will also teach you how to behave before the Wizengamot. Now," with a quick Tempus Charm, Ted checked the time, "it is close to ten, so I think we should get you back home." Harry stands and precedes Ted out of the office, and to his surprise, Tonks and Andromeda are standing there waiting. Andromeda approaches him first.

"It was lovely to have you over, Harry, despite how your aunt and uncle brought you up. I can tell that Lily, especially, would be quite proud of how you behave. You remind me a lot of her. It's not just her eyes; you have her inner nature as well. I would like it if you came over more often now. There is one friend of your father's who remains free and unfettered, a Remus Lupin. I'll look him up and see if he has a desire to see you after so long. I'm sure he does, but Remus tends to stay away from others, especially after your parents' deaths, it will probably take a long while to track him down."

Dora ran up to Harry practically shaking, seemingly unable to contain herself any longer—or maybe she was just bored and wanted to mess with him once more before he left—she threw her arms around Harry in a tight hug. "It was great meeting you, Harry. I hope to see you again before you go back to school. And be warned, with the mongrel locked up and unable to perform his godfather-ly duties next summer, you are taking me on several dates. Someone has to show you how to please a woman, for when you turn up in the dating pool!"

Harry blushed at the mention of dating but met Tonks's eyes that were alight with mischief and nodded. "Sounds good, NYMPHADORA!" With that, Harry, laughing, ran out of the house under a hail of stinging hexes, still managing to dodge every single one. Ted, laughing, followed him out in a hurry a shield charm following him, and a few seconds later, a slight crack of apparition was heard. The two women looked at each other, smiled, and began laughing.

It was close to two hours later, and Harry lay in his bed, replaying the night's events. Harry, smiling at the deep familial connection he was already feeling with the Tonks family, after the fun night he had Harry drifted off to an easy sleep.

Chapter Text

Harry sat in a well-appointed dining room. The large richly colored mahogany table he was sitting at gleamed like a jewel beneath a truly eminence gold and crystal chandelier lit not by candles but by brilliant white magelights, a specialty of dwarven craftsmen, as mister Greengrass explained when he entered “the dwarves in the ural mountains had to come up with a way besides torches to light their halls as they do not fare as well with soot or in the dark as our own subterranean goblins do.” The plate that had been sat down in front of him was, as it had been pointed out by his host, “the finest 16th-century china. His gleaming cutlery was most certainly pure silver, engraved with what he assumed was the family crest and other finely detailed gold filigree. On his plate sat the appetizer before the main course: a smallish mound of deep silver orbs sat in the center of the plate adjacent to a spoon. Harry didn't know what material it was, but to him, it seemed like the utensil was made of pearl. Aunt Petunia had a small necklace of real pearls, and the spoon and these orbs had the same odd sheen, the plates also held a few thin slices of hard cracker like bread, a small cup of a white substance, and several sprigs of what Harry thought was dill.

Harry stared at the odd dish for close to two minutes, wandering at this strange assortment of foods. and then he looked at the others around him, immediately seeking out Mr. Tonks across the table from him in hopes that the man could show him. With a severely confused look on his face unsure if it would offend those who served the food that he had no idea how to eat it without probably looking like a barbarian. However Mister Tonks was in deep conversation with Cyrus Greengrass, so he went to the next person he could think of who would help him without, hopefully, too much judgment, Daphne Greengrass, a fellow Hogwarts student, though she was sorted into slytherin. She was slightly down the table from him but luckily she noticed him looking without him having to gesture or anything to get her attention.

She arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow at him, and Harry gestured to his plate while mouthing, "I don't know what this is. Help."

She smirked at that and then seemed to ignore him, looking back at her own plate. Then, she slowly and deliberately gathered a measured amount of the silver orbs (very pointedly) with the pearl-like spoon and put the orbs on top of the cracker-like bread. She then took a small dollop of the white sauce and spread it gently onto the silver pearls, topping the whole thing with a sprig of the herb that looked like dill. Gently placing the small morsel in her mouth, she turned in her seat slowly to face him better. Speaking over the other low conversations going on at the table, she said, in a light friendly tone "So, Harry, how are you finding the Wizarding World? Many people were quite looking forward to the Boy Who Lived returning to Wizarding Britain including some of those at this table. Many conversations I heard growing up speculating what you would be like. Would you be the next coming of Merlin? Would you have the innate political mind of your grandfather?" She paused then and as she spoke her voice darkened. “Would you replace the darklord you destroyed? We've all wondered how you would be and I find myself curious to know the answer from you?” Harry knew from reading the boon that his uncle had given him that asking this line of questions so early in the dinner was considered highly rude to both the host and subject of the questions, still this breach Of decorum seemed to intrigue the attendees. Harry sat in thought for a moment and noticed that all conversations had stopped. Many of the dinner guests were waiting for his reply.

"Err, well, I'm finding it quite well, Daphne, of course. Most of my experience in this new world I find myself in has been at Hogwarts and, recently, the Ministry. I know a building full of rowdy teens can't compare to the wider wizarding culture, but Hogwarts feels like home, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I belong, even if certain people at the school would rather see me drop into the lake with lead shoes. I find the school, classes and most of the students quite enjoyable. I even enjoy the odd things like quills and ink. In the Muggle world, we just use ballpoint pens or fountain pens if we're trying to look fancy. Learning to write with a quill took a minute. I'm still not that good, really, but at least my writing is legible, more than I can say for my friend Ron Weasley." That last part got a chuckle from the dinner guests.

"That is very good to hear, Harry. I feel I must apologize for my behavior at Hogwarts. I fear I fell into the trap of house politics and was less than welcoming toward you. I would like to extend an olive branch, if you don't mind. I know you are advanced in Transfiguration and have a deep grasp of potions compared to our peers whether or not Professor Snape can see, or even admit it to himself,but you are not so advanced in Charms. Next term, we should study together. You can bring your friend, Granger, if you like. We would both most likely benefit from her presence. I can even give you handwriting lessons, if you'd like, although I must warn you I am an exacting instructor. Ask Astoria, my younger sister. I expect only the best from people I teach."

“Thank you Daphne, that sounds like a great plan.” Harry said, nodding and smiling. Whispers broke out from some of the women around the table.

“You know, Harry, word is from the Board of Governors that your friend, Hermione Granger, scored the highest in our year. It apparently raised quite a tiff among the more pureblood minded governors. (She raised an eyebrow in the direction of the Malfoys.) It is quite the scandal—a Muggle-born first year outscoring and outperforming all the pureblood heirs, myself included. It's... well, not unheard of, but it's certainly a rare event. Father, when was the last time it happened?

"Ahh," said Cyrus Greengrass, smiling with nostalgia in his eyes and at the maneuvering his daughter did to raise the topic here. No doubt he thought it a move to make her would-be friend somewhat more comfortable in the presence of a group of people he must think hate him.

"Well, it last happened when I myself was a first-year. An exceedingly bright Muggle-born girl came and knocked all our heads off our pedestals—a girl with a fiery temper and flaming red hair to match, a young woman by the name of Lily Evans, or as many in this room came to know and respect her" (and at this, he looked directly at Harry), "Lady Potter, your mother, Harry, was a rare and spectacular specimen of magical Power, and authority. Despite her birth, she became a person that every pureblood heiress sought to emulate. Smart, powerful, courageous, and beautiful. I could go on with her attributes for a long while. Many people at this table, whether they want to admit it or not, held a lot of respect—and not an undue amount of fear—for Lily Potter. She was the kindest woman you could meet but would burn you like Fiendfyre when roused. She trounced everyone in school all seven years there; no one else could ever come close, and many people tried. But no one else, not even your father, could hold a candle to her power or intellect. I dare say, given a few decades, she would have rivaled Dumbledore at the height of his powers. Come to think of it, Harry, Daphne, I'd like to meet this Hermione Granger. I feel that investing in her future will most likely be a very profitable business."

"I quite agree, sir. Hermione is my best friend, so I'd like to see her encouraged as much as possible, especially with how hard it is for muggle borns to advance in the wizarding world” Harry glared at the quiet grumbles that statement brought out and decided to double down. “I'm sure she would be thrilled to meet someone so important. I have noticed that most Muggle-borns tend to be looked down on, if not outright discriminated against by a large portion of purebloods even if they're not bigoted Mister Weasley fir example talked to Hermione's parents as if they were about four years old, and they are the muggle equivalent of healers." Harry said, with an insolent look at Draco down the table. "So I find it nice that you are not as enamored with a certain ideology as I had feared coming here."

"Oh, most certainly, Harry. I don't think any of us will deny, at the very least, a distrust of the Muggle-borns or Muggles. Some have degraded to fear and hatred of the muggle world, though none are likely to admit it. Very few of us in the conservative ring believe we are superior to Muggles, not after the advances after their last "world war” i believe its referenced as. I know you think we all look down on Muggle-borns, and that is true on the whole, though I have met and worked very well with several Muggle-borns—very good business deals. But I digress. I would say you have not been told or shown the major or correct reasons behind this divide. Tell me, Harry, if you were to move permanently to France, Russia, or China, would you not learn the language and adopt the culture to fit in more with your neighbors?" At Harry's hesitant nod, Cyrus continued. "Not abandon your own culture entirely, but you wouldn't expect the natives of the country to conform and change to your home culture, correct?"

"I would only argue against the evil things," replied Harry, gesturing to a house-elf that had just appeared to refill a decanter of wine. "Like slavery, for instance—and I know," he said, cutting off a storm of pureblood protest, "that house-elf servitude is more nuanced than human slavery, I read a book about them after seeing them clean around Hogwarts at night, but that does not change the fact that it is slavery and it's barbaric. Just because something has always been done doesn't mean you can't see that it's wrong and stop doing it. If a practice is bad, it's our job as a society to recognize it, stop it, or change it. Something being morally wrong doesn't change depending on who, where, or when you are. Harmful traditions should be changed, if not entirely abolished. So, no, I wouldn't expect an American neighborhood to observe tea time, but you bet I'd speak up if my neighbors were... I don't know... segregating their neighborhoods against other races, which is an issue in the Muggle world. We learned about it in Social Studies class in my primary school. If it were a tradition to kill your firstborn daughter on her eleventh birthday, would you have killed Daphne?" Harry stopped here for a second and went on, "No, you wouldn't. I'm sure you would rally against that tradition and break whatever law allowed the tradition to take place until you got it changed."

"A fine point in the making, lad. A fine point, but my original assertion still stands. If you adopt a new land as your home, you'd adopt the culture. Yet, for several hundred years now, Muggle-borns will join our world and expect all of us natives to hang up our heritage, our culture, and our way of doing things simply because they, the slimmest minority in our world, find the things we do to be "behind the times," no matter the historical or economic reasons. It gets even worse as time goes on, as the wizarding world, to them, seems to sit still while the Muggle-borns watch as Muggles rush about like ants in a hill, flitting from technology to technology. no matter that the technology they wish us to adopt does not function around magic. pictures for instance, Harry, the camera is a muggle adoption of ours. It was invented some two hundred years ago or thereabouts but it's only in the past sixty-five years that someone found a process for a camera to work around ‘any’ concentration of magic. before they figured it out, the film would just come out white or black or like sand because the magic would scramble the exposure. The muggleborns think we should change our culture to fit into their modern age. but we refuse this is our world and our history And... (the man takes a deep breath and sighs it out slowly.) I must apologize, Harry. I didn't mean to rant there. I would like to talk to you more about this at some other time, not over a meal. We can discuss Wizarding Society and how you feel about it. Maybe in time, you'll help us to update a law or two when it's your time in the Wizengamot, but until then, it'll be a good debate. We should move on before we go too far down the Muggle-born debate. It is another topic I would like to explain a more traditionalist perspective on without inflamed passions getting in the way.

"Politics is a bad topic for dinner unless everyone agrees on the same points," Daphne pointed out calmly.

“Before we move on, I'd like to point something out about what you just said.”

“And what would that be, Mister Potter.” Came the slow calm drawl of Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father.

“That, Mister Malfoy, would be, that, you all want us, the muggle born and non-magicaly raised, and I am counted in that number, to adopt The culture of the wizarding world. But, there are two major problems with that statement and your behavior around it.

The first is that we as outsiders can't learn your culture, there are few books that I've seen, fewer still that are at all affordable to muggle raised who have to use the massively onside conversion rate to change the pound into galleons, which is 50 pounds sterling to the galleon. It makes a 3 galleon Book like “the whys and what fits of wizarding culture” into a book that costs two hundred pounds once you factor it the Gringotts conversion fee. There are also no classes or courses on wizarding culture at or outside Hogwarts. Nowhere for us to learn nor someone to learn from. So how could we adopt an unknown culture.

The second problem is why would any person raised in the far more equal society of muggle England willingly adopt a culture that at least to any outside seemed predicated, and built on the oppression and discrimination of magical creatures, and your fellow sentient magical races. Mister tonks gave me a book on magical law and just a quick example of what I'm talking about, sections four, five, and six under “allowable usage of magic details the “non wand use” policies directed toward, from what I can tell every non human magical race from goblins too high elves. Without a single explanation as to why these races can't use a wand. It's discriminatory and disgusting.” Ted looked proudly at Harry but there were plenty of people who looked murderous.

Cyrus Greengrass took a deep breath and looked thoroughly dressed down, beheld hand up and shot Lucius a look that clearly forbade a retort "You're a bright lad for your age. I know I never could have stood up to a full-grown man and an experienced politician to boot and spoken like that at eleven. I think your parents would be proud of you; I can't claim to have known them very well at all. I know James was a bit too brash for a genuine debate, but Lily would have been a powerhouse in whatever political circle she chose. They were a good team together."

Harry smiled at that obvious change in topic. "I'm glad you think so, but I'm nothing compared to my friend Hermione. Not only is she the smartest witch in our class, but she's also able to use reason and logic in a way that she wins any argument while making her opponent agree with her without realizing it. She'll be running circles around the Wizengamot in a few years, I'm sure. Hermione and Smara, my familiar, not only expect me to be the best but push me to be as great as I can be. I don't know much about my family history, but I know a great deal is expected of me as the boy who lived and as the future Lord Potter. I can't let people down who look to me as an example, so I have decided to be the very best in every aspect of my life." Harry quickly put together his first cracker of silver orbs and quickly ate it, only to blanch and nearly choke. It was the fishiest and saltiest thing he had ever tasted. He couldn't contain himself anymore. "What is this? No offense, but this is horrible."

Nearly the whole table laughed, much to Harry's relief as it dispelled the tension that had built since hHarries rant. "That, lad," started Cyrus, "is silver sturgeon caviar." Obviously, this was supposed to be impressive.

Harry gave the older man a blank stare.
"I don't know what that is."

Daphne giggled and quickly put it to rest. "It's fish eggs, Harry—unfertilized fish eggs from a huge fish called a sturgeon. It's a delicacy all over the world, and the silver-gray of the roe indicates that this is of the highest quality."

"Well," said Harry, "I don't think I have been sufficiently cultured to find that palatable." Everyone laughed at that again.

After that, the rest of the guests started to converse once more, and Cyrus introduced Harry more personally to his dinner guests. He knew the children or grandchildren of Nott, who was mostly retired and only participated in the Wizengamot; Flint, who worked for the Ministry in the Department of Magical Law; Crabbe and Goyle (who were business associates and not Wizengamot members, thank all the gods); Bletchley, who had an import/export business focused on animal products and textiles; and Parkinson, another Wizengamot member. But several other names he did not recognize from Hogwarts. A rather old and quiet man by the name of Carrow barely acknowledged anyone around him. Harry thought he looked a bit like a gorilla. Harry decided he didn't like the look of the man. The white-haired wizard had been looking at Harry with barely disguised hate. If Harry hadn't been as good at reading people as he was, he would have mistaken the look on the man's face for boredom, but to Harry, it seemed the man genuinely hated Harry. He wondered why but figured he'd ask Mr. Tonks later.

After a while Mr. Greengrass asked Harry for a brief explanation of his circumstances and what his life had been like and what he was seeking and why. It was the elder Nott that asked the question Harry thought everyone at the table all wanted to ask at that point. Harry assumed it was only because it was not politically optimal to ask or maybe it was impolite to ask this question or maybe the others simply weren't done testing him yet in order to ask, he felt he had been in an exam all night.

"I am growing tired of this dithering, Cyrus!" shouted Nott Sr., holding an empty chalice of wine.

"Why? I ask you. Why should we help you, Potter? Your family has thumbed their noses at us for generations: refused business deals, political partnerships, and mutually beneficial marriages since before the time of my grandfather. Looking down on us, us!, we of the Sacred Twenty-Eight! We who helped found this country. We who have safeguarded the Wizarding tradition from the vile Muggle encroachment for the last thousand years. Your family has betrayed our culture, our history, our blood, and our businesses for generations, and you come to us fresh out of isolation, learning nothing but Muggle foolishness and barbarism, and nothing of your own birth culture, learning nothing of actual importance so as to look like a fish gasping out of water at a simple dinner party. You sit there at this table after what you did twelve years ago, after you slaught-" Nott Sr. was cut off at that moment as a red light sailed from Mr. Greengrass' wand, and the elderly man dropped mid-sentence. ‘When did he grab his wand?’ Harry thought as he stared at the old wizard lying face down on his plate of lamb chops. Mister Greengrass rose to his feet and spoke slowly and deliberately. "Mister Potter is MY guest, MINE, I will not allow him to come to harm for any reason by anyone. I brought you all here to bridge gaps, to try to bring back some semblance of the political landscape our grandfathers flourished under. so we all could have a moderate voice again instead of these wings we have now spread too far apart to get anything of meaning done. To help anyone, the wizengamot, the governing body of this land, has not passed a significant bill of any kind in the last 15 years because you are so entrenched in your past hatreds to see that our country is falling apart. too often, you have wandered at me and wished to blur the dividing line so we could once more do our jobs." he points to Harry."This lad is the dividing line. " If he gets his independence and he claims his majority, then he could pull his vote from under the control of Dumbledore, and things might get done! My heir has spoken for the first time in her capacity for that role, and she has declared that any attack on this boy is an attack on the Greengrass family. and I must say after tonight I very much agree with her decision, Enervate" And with that, he brought the elder Nott back to consciousness and repeated his warning to the man.

Harry felt the need to respond to the elderly wizard, so he sat in silence, thinking of his approach. He decided the Gryffindor thing to do would be to charge ahead, but he lent himself some caution and sent a questioning look to Daphne and Mr. Tonks. Both nodded slightly.

"It's true, I know nothing of your families, aside from the fact that your children, grandchildren, or cousins think themselves above everyone else and everything else, including the rules and laws.

You say my family thumbed their noses at you? If you have a family member at Hogwarts, I can assure you that they have gotten revenge for your ancestors in that regard. From certain others in this room, I have received nothing but threats and taunts, and outright bullying. I'm assuming it's because of some feud I know nothing about, because as you, Mr. Nott, have so graciously pointed out, I am an orphan and know just as much about the wizarding world as your average Muggle-born first year.

You ask what I can offer you to side with me. I have nothing to offer you. Do you ask for favors? I have none to give. Perhaps you seek some business arrangement.

But I have no business, so you ask what reason you have to support my desires. I have no reason to give up other than my aunt and uncle have abused me every day since before I can remember. You call me the future Lord Potter, but for the first six years of my life, I thought my name was either "boy" or "freak."I was beaten, whipped, locked up, chained down, and starved. And all this is the fault of a madman and his devoted group of sycophants who killed my entire family, by every account of heard many of the people in this room were at the very least supporters and thus by every metric both magical and mundane you OWE me. But I'm not here to espouse past wrongs. As I said earlier, I'm here to ask for help. You should help me because it's the morally right thing to do. Who knows, when I come of age, maybe I'll open my land back up to be farmed and have potion ingredients to sell and distribute, but only fools would ask an eleven-year-old what his business plans are.” At this, Harry stood and threw his napkin over his half-finished dinner, as he had read he should do in the book Ted had lent him. He then turned to Cyrus at the head of the table and bowed slightly. "Thank you for dinner, sir. It was quite good, but I'm afraid I must go before I cause any more of a scene. If you wish to discuss this again before Friday, you may feel free, for now Mister Tonks is the best way to get hold of me." He turned and quickly walked out. To his surprise, he heard heels coming up behind him as he walked to the room with the floo he had arrived in.

" Potter, wait!" said Daphne breathlessly "As heir to the Greengrass family, I must apologize for my father's dinner guests. Most of them can be rather cantankerous on their best days, and Nott Sr. is a very combative man when sober. I'm surprised he kept his composure as long as he did." She turns to the window and gazes out onto the grounds of her family's estate.

"I have told my father to support your independence as my first act as heir. Politically, that action will speak volumes to the wizengamot. Yet I fear it doesn't speak enough personally. There won't be time before your hearing, but afterward, if you'd like, you can come over and I can give you political and etiquette lessons that aren't from a book 150 years past its prime. You can also bring your friend Granger. Merlin knows she will most likely need them before long.

At Hogwarts, Harry, the only person I have is Tracy, and though she is my best friend, only having one intelligent person to speak to can get rather dull, so I would be very happy to extend those study sessions I offered earlier. Think about it." With that, she took a pinch of glittering Floo powder and threw it in the fire, a clear indication that he didn't need to respond just then. Harry gave a big sigh and ran his hands through his hair, seeing Ted coming down the long corridor, called out, "Tonks House!”

Chapter Text

Harry was hot; his aunt had ordered him to weed the flower bed. It was his most hated chore, but he had two consolations that made it far more bearable this time. One was that with any luck he'd never have to do it again. The other was that Harry's best friend, Hermione, would be home from her holiday trip later that day. He felt odd; he should have been excited to hear from his other friend, Ron Weasley, but after he had written a letter to Ron about all that he had been through lately (at the same time he had written to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to see if they would endorse his emancipation), he had received a one-paragraph response ignoring ninety-five percent of Harry's stories. Three days later, his parents (whom had never met Harry) responded with well wishes and commiseration that they did not feel comfortable endorsing a twelve-year-old to live by himself.

"Hey Harry, mate. Sorry about your uncle. Try to come around to the Burrow this summer. -Ron"

Harry had decided to just catch up with Ron in person, supposing he wasn't much for writing letters.

As Harry continued to weed the flower beds, lamenting the clear, shiny blue sky and its unfiltered heat, he heard the now-familiar pop of Apparition in the back garden. Harry turned excitedly, expecting Mr. Tonks to have come with some news or update about the hearing in two days. What he had not expected was the tall, slender shape and long white hair and beard of Headmaster Dumbledore.

The aged wizard was standing in the back garden, and gone was the kindly grandfather he had appeared to be to the students. Gone was the eccentric headmaster who began speeches with odd, random words, and gone was the wise old wizard who had so jovially explained how an enchanted mirror worked in the dead of night. the man now present was, for the first time in Harry's view, the man that every one native to the wizarding world respected and feared.

His face was a storm, his eyes narrowed and brow wrinkled. Harry couldn't see the man's lips through the beard and mustache, but he could tell that they too were turned down in a direction that did not indicate happiness at all. His posture was stiff, and Harry could tell that he was gnashing his teeth in anger. So readily, Harry recognized these because they reflected the stance Uncle Vernon took when Harry came home from school with an event he couldn't explain. So primed was Harry to that look that he readied himself for the strikes that came with it. Flashes of sensation ripped across Harry's back, preparing him for the fight to come.

But Harry had an immediate thought.

He didn't have his wand.

"Harry," the headmaster said in a flat voice,

"I need you to accompany me to the Ministry. We're short on time, and you need to have your lawyer cancel this farce of a hearing." The old man said this while turning completely to face Harry. The headmaster's wand was in his hand, held loosely at his side, but Harry knew the old wizard could spring into action in a fraction of a second.

""No, sir, I'm afraid I can't do that. I've put up with these people's abuse every day since I can remember. Being at Hogwarts showed me just how I should be living, and I won't accept anything less from anyone or anything in my life. So I'm afraid I won't cancel anything, nor will I come with you." From behind the headmaster, he sees a slight movement in the grass and knew it was Smara coming to his aid. Harry quickly hisses out, "DON'T KILL HIM!" He was able to pass it off as a hiss of pain as Dumbledore's eyes contracted at the noise in curiosity, but Harry kicked away a small tilling tool, acting as if he stepped on it. But Dumbledore seemed to take this as an invitation to attack, and he sent an oddly colored gray spell at Harry, who dodged it by the skin of his teeth by diving and rolling. At this, Smara also sprang into action, lunging from the grass and causing the old man to stumble back. Three quick strikes and three dodges allowed Harry to reach the back door and open it quickly and enter, still running. Not having time to explain anything to his aunt, who had been watching television, seemingly oblivious to the shouts and bangs in her back garden. At the bang of the door closing, she ran into the hallway just in time to see Harry tackle the door to the cupboard under the stairs, not having time to unlock and open it, grab his wand that had been sitting ontop of his school trunck for the past month, and run back out, blood now running freely down his head from an injury somewhere on Harry's scalp.

Harry ran out of the house just in time to see Dumbledore conjure six silver javelins from thin air and send them barreling toward his snake friend. He sent a blast of magic from his wand that deflected three of them, but two hit Smara, bouncing off her scales, and she batted the third one out of the way with a flick of her tail. At Harry's reappearance, the snake lunged into the air, growing and becoming fifteen feet long and a foot thick. She coiled around her partner and hissed at the old headmaster. Harry leveled his wand at the headmaster, knowing he stood no chance of actually defeating the ancient wizard in a duel. Harry knew he was powerful, but he only knew a few spells, and almost none of them were of much use in a fight, the arcane bolt he had used being the only one that could be of any use in combat, and even that he knew Dumbledore could easily dodge or block.

He cast several cutting charms into the ground, not even eliciting a responding flinch from the headmaster, who stared at the snake coiled around Harry, replacing his inability to use shield charms with her naturally armored body.

"Harry, you must step away from that beast at once! Have you any idea what that thing is?"

"Of course I do. I may not be the smartest student, but I'm not an idiot. Smaragaid here is as intelligent as any human. In fact, she's probably more intelligent than most people. I may not have a hope of defeating you in a duel, Headmaster, but with Smaragaid with me, we can at least keep you at a standstill."

The old headmaster stared at Harry for a long minute and lowered his chilling-looking wand. "Harry, you must listen to me and do what you are told. This defiance only serves to hinder the work I do to protect you."

Smara hissed at that. "Foolish geriatric!"

The headmaster then sent an Immobilus Curse at Smara, who took the spell in full and shrugged it off like a fly buzzing on her brow. And Harry responded with three Wide Band Severing Charms, casting the spell not by pointing but by waving his arms in wide arcs. "DEFENDO! DEFENDO! DEFENDO!" each casually deflected by the headmaster with lazy flicks of his wand.

"These attacks are futile, Harry. You know you stand no chance. Surrender. I fail to comprehend why you persist in this rebellious behavior."

Harry laughed for the first time at the enormity of that lie, overriding his sense of caution.

"You don't, do you, Headmaster? Were you expecting me to be a quiet and respectful good little boy who did as he was told? Well, I have news for you: those days are gone. Mr. Tonks took me to St. Mungo's and had several tests done for the hearing you seem to fear so greatly. And they removed all the potions, all the spells, all the compulsions. I won't follow orders. I don't damn well want to anymore. And no one can order me around unless I let them.

And of course, those attacks have a purpose.

I am, after all, a minor in a Muggle area with a wand." Harry smiled at the headmaster as insolently as possible just as no fewer than six cracks filled the air—the Aurors had arrived, wands drawn, two on Harry and four on Dumbledore. A seventh and eighth crack filled the air, and Amelia Bones and none other than Ted Tonks arrived, both with wands drawn on Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore! Stand down! Now!" shouted Amelia Bones. "We have been trying to find you since we got word you left the ICW conference. I just didn't think you'd show up here after all; you've never checked on the poor boy before have you?"

"Mr. Dumbledore," Ted Tonks began, his lawyer's voice in full throttle. "Due to an injunction against you filed by my client, you are hereby prohibited from contacting or approaching my client, Harry Potter, in any way from the time of this notice until the end of the hearing set for two days hence. Since you contacted and approached Harry Potter before you were legally notified, you will not be charged further. However, any future contact will be met with further legal action." Mr. Tonks read this from a scroll of parchment and then forced it into Dumbledores hand.

"Harry, do you wish to press charges against Mr. Dumbledore for this... (madame bones paused here as if searching for a polite word) incident?"

Harry's stilted nod sent her into action.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you are hereby charged with first-degree assault of a minor. You are under arrest and will remain in custody until the hearing date to prevent any further altercations. Aurors Tonks and Moody, please escort the Chief Mugwump to the nicest holding cell you can find."

At the name Tonks, Harry looked around and saw his new cousin, Dora. He smiled and waved.

Dumbledore seemed to know when not to cause a scene. He went voluntarily with his Auror escort and disappeared with a pop as the older Auror Apparated himself and Dumbledore away.

Harry collapsed to the ground, all tension leaving him at once. He looked at Madam Bones, breathing heavily and shaking fiercely, and asked, "Are you s-s-sure you can c-c-charge him with a-assault?"

"Hmm, well, I can charge him with anything I want to, really, but if you're asking if I have the evidence that will make it stick, then yes, I believe I do." At this, she gestures to the javelins that another Auror is examining with magic.

"But he didn't use those against me! It was Smara he flung those at."

"Oh!" interjected Ted. "Here, Harry was able to secure this just this morning with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. It's your dangerous familiar registration and license. It makes it official that Smara—" (At the sound of her name, all the adults looked at the giant serpent and shivered, much to the snake's apparent amusement. She made an odd skittering sound that Harry translated as laughter.) "—is your familiar, and to answer for Madam Bones, an attack on a person's familiar is registered as an attack on the person, which makes it even worse when a familiar is sentient. That won't look good for Dumbledore."

"Are you all right, Mr. Potter?" asked Madam Bones.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm just a bit winded, that's all."

"Very well, if you're sure?" She looks at Mrs. Tonks for confirmation, who nods once, and Madam Bones looks back at Harry. "I'll send an Auror here to keep watch for now. Dumbledore is usually an honorable man, but he seems oddly fixated on you, so there's no telling if he'll come back when he's not supposed to."

Madam Bones and Mr. Tonks Disapparated away, followed shortly after by the other Aurors after they had finished examining the scene and, at Harry's request, fixed the cupboard door. In the midst of all this, Uncle Vernon came home and upon Aunt Petunia telling him what had happened that day, went into a near-blind rage.

To tell you the truth, Harry didn't really remember much. Harry had been up in his room when his uncle had barged in. Smara was asleep near comatose really. The magic of resizing burned out her energy stores so completely he had fed her again and she promptly went tonsleep under the sunlight streaming thriugh his window.

his uncle commenced to doing something he hadnt done to harry since he had been found on the school roof he started to beat harry he opened up with 4 strikes from a cricket bat to harries ankle,leg,knee, and ribs before some force ripped bat away from his hand by the third punch to the face, Harry had tried to run being so pumped up be adrenaline he hadnt known how bad his leg was and and gotten 4 steps into the hall and right at the top of the stairs before something clicked and he fell head-long down the stairscrashing hard into the wall on the small landing. It didn't knock him out, but it did disorient Harry enough that he could not defend himself nor feel what his uncle had done. He knew it went on for a while, and covered most of his body but seemed focused on his head his vision swung back and forth so much at one point harry was sure his uncle was using his head to hammer down a lose floor board. blood was flying the wound from earlier on his halead had reopened along with a litteny of other wounds.

there was a space of time how long harry had no idea that Harry experienced an episode of sensory deprivation so complete it was like he was swimming in an empty void his only companion was a warm presence among the cold emptiness and a womans gentle humming a sound he had heard before but couldnt place. it eased him and he drifted peacefully there with nothing but that tune for company for what felt like eons.

When Harry regained consciousness, he found himself back in his bed, his entire body aching. His head felt dizzy, and his vision swam in the darkness of his room. The pain in his chest indicated that he was in rough shape. The fact that he couldn't breathe or catch his breath should have alarmed him, but he was too exhausted to fully register the taste of copper on his breath. So he slowly crawled down the stairs. Only one leg and one arm were functioning enough to move, and he moved slowly to the cupboard under the stairs where his school trunk was. He knew he had to get there, but his vision was fading. His breath was no longer coming as it should; each breath was a monumental effort.

By the time he got midway down the hallway, he could only see out of one eye, and things looked blurry and fogged as he got to the door. The thing popped open of its own accord, and he knocked over his trunk, pried open his potion kit with his one poorly functioning hand, and without even stopping to consider what would happen, smashed open two glass vials with blue cork tops that he knew contained healing ingredients. He ate the leaves that one contained and scooped up the glutinous liquid from the other and began eating it as well.

Both tasted foul, but almost immediately his pains started to recede. He sat against the hallway wall, taking deep breaths and rubbing the remaining murtlap essence into the skin of his face and over his eyes, which he assumed were very bruised. After a time, his head was feeling much clearer, so he slowly made his way to the kitchen and, uncaring, went to sit against the oven, gazing out at the digital display on the microwave, trying desperately to ignore the pain it caused him to sit up and the nausea now spreading through his gut as the world spun around him. He focused with great effort on the microwave clock, shocked to find that it was only 2:30. He thought it would be much later.

A few minutes later, Dora strode into the house as if she owned the place. She sat across from him and stared at him with an unsmiling face.

"Watcher, Harry."

"Hey, Tonks," Harry spoke in a flat voice, still completely out of it and very sleepy

"I just received word that you performed an illegal unlocking charm. It wouldn't have been a false flag, would it? The air is charged with magic after everything today, and it does tend to mess with the trace."

"Oh." Harry, once again speaking in a flat voice, leans his head back to look at the unlocked cupboard door. "I needed my potions' ingredients." He points to the shredded leaves and busted jar of murtlap. "Whatever could you need those for?" Noticing what they are, Tonks stops short. "Harry, what could you have needed these for? You said Dumbledore didn't hurt you."

"He didn't, but then my uncle isn't Dumbledore, is he?"

"Shite, hold still. deprende saltutis!" Tonks quickly paled as the charm displayed a status report. "Harry, did you eat Murtlap essence?" At Harry's confused, "Yes," Tonks reached across the table, grabbed his arms, and Apparated straight into St Mungo's.

"Poison cart, now! My idiot cousin ate murtlap to help a damn headache!" The healers moved in, pulled a stone from her pocket, shoved it in Harry's mouth, and cast a spell that forced him to swallow it. As they walked to a room, he began ti feel worse and worse he broke free from tonks grip and collapsed to the ground vomiting a bright red liquid that smellled like iron his senses were gone his reasoning skills were overloaded and after he wiped the blood from his mouth looked at tonks."whaaat." before he collapsed and started convulsing the healer was barking orders for potions, spells, and diagnostics. the healer who looked very familiar to harry cast a petrifying charm on him and force him drink a purging potion at once upon entering a private room he was levitated and put facedown so he could throw up into a bucket that was placed under him and while he was throwing his innards out, he heard the healers telling Tonks what the scans had shown her. after that he knew no more back he sank into that cool nothing surounded by a warm tune a sleepy tune

a cradle song.

Multiple broken bones, cracked ribs, a fractured skull, multiple internal hemorrhages, and torn muscles. A brain bleed and swelling of his spinal cord, both lungs punctured, and oxygen deprivation. The dittany Harry ate (a near-lethal dose) had been numbing him, and that allowed him to function somewhat. The healers admitted to Tonks that if Harry hadn't ingested the dittany and murtlap, although they did poison him, he probably would have died much faster. They both actively tried to heal the damage while simultaneously trying to overload his internal organs and kill him.

It was several hours later, and Harry was awake now. The healer, who was revealed to be Andromeda, had yelled at him for being a blithering idiot. before having to clock out and be with harry as a decision maker and not a healer.

Harry was lying on the bed when another bottle was placed in his hands. He drank it without question, and within seconds, the pain stopped. He lay there, trembling in the aftermath of the pain.

"Harry, I need you to tell me how this happened. How did you get into this state?" a new healer asked hurriedly.

"fell down the stairs. I remember falling, fighting with Uncle Vernon, and then falling. I'm sorry, but I don't remember anything else. I'm sorry."

the Tonks and the healer looked at each other.

"It's your decision, Andi. We can't get in touch with any guardians for him other than Dumbledore, and a no-contact order is in place there. You're his next of kin, for now."

"There's already a case open. Call them and tell them to bring memory extraction equipment. He will. I need it."

Several hours passed with hours of questions, exams, visitations including the WCPO and the DMLE—not the Aurors this time, but he got to meet the wizard equivalent of a regular police officer, a pair of peacekeepers as they're called from the law enforcement patrol—and visits from Ted Tonks and Neville Longbottom who had already been in the hospital and had apparently run into Andy and Tonks and had heard them talking and asked if he could visit. It was quickly determined that Harry should not return to the Dursley house for Harry's own safety, which led to a short argument about where Harry would stay. Andromeda volunteered, of course, but Harry had said that he had plans to spend all of tomorrow and tomorrow night with the Grangers and that he would like to ask if he could just come over tonight as well. He did not want to stay in the hospital any longer than necessary. The peacekeepers set off at once to the Grangers' known address and returned within the hour, saying that they had informed the Granger parents of the situation and asked if Harry could stay there tonight, which the two had agreed to immediately. It was with great relief that a fully healed Harry was discharged and began the walk with the Tonks family to the Leaky Cauldron, where Hermione and her parents would be waiting.

It took nearly an hour to walk from St Mungo's to the Leaky Cauldron, which suited Harry just fine. It let him stretch his legs and take his time; his body was still sort of tender, but after being cooped up in the hospital until 7 at night, it was nice to be allowed to walk.

It also stretched the time before he came face-to-face with Hermione and her parents. Oddly enough, he had longed for her company every day for the past six weeks, and now that she was almost in front of him, he was nervous, especially about meeting her parents—especially now that they knew he came from an abusive home.

He didn't know how to take that, but he knew he would not accept pity. As he stepped onto the street the Leaky Cauldron was on, his stomach knotted. When the sign came into view, his mouth went dry, and when he stood in front of the door, his feet were like lead. He didn't think he could keep walking. Maybe going back to the Dursleys was a great idea after all, or the Tonkses' house, or a hotel even. But just as he was about to insist they leave the door open, a great bushy brown blur came and tackled him in a hug so tight it nearly cracked his newly healed ribs. All the dread, all the nerves, and all the doubt were washed away like dried leaves in an autumn storm. As he felt Hermione's arms wrap around him in the tightest hug he had ever received, all he could think was that he was a fool for thinking Hermione would think less of him for what he had been through or that he would look into her eyes and see nothing but pity. There was pity, but there was far more affection in her gaze, as well as worry and relief. "Uhh, Hermione? Not that I mind the hug or anything, but do you think we can stand up? I don't think you treating me like a chair is appropriate public behavior."

"Oh!" Hermione blushed and got off of him, standing up and offering her hand to help him stand. He took it and, with a slight stiffness or soreness, stood up and took in his friend for the first time in proper Muggle clothes. She wore acid-wash jeans, white Converse sneakers, and a light blue casual blouse. Her hair was its usual untamable bushy nest, but she covered it up with a puffy kind of cap like an old newsboy from the '20s, a few shades darker than her blouse. The whole outfit looked great and brought out the green highlights in her hazel eyes.

"It's great to see you, Hermione. You look great, by the way—very ...tan."

Hermione let out a slight giggle. "Well, being in southern France and having your parents ban you from your books will do that to a person. You look terrible, Harry—no offense intended. I know you've been through a lot today, of course."

"True enough, I suppose I wouldn't know. I've never been banned from reading my books while in the South of France." Harry looked around and, remembering the Tonkses behind him, stood to the side so they could see each other.

"Hermione, I'd like you to meet my cousin Andromeda, who is a healer at St. Mungo's, her husband, Ted Tonks, who is my lawyer in that hearing I've written to you about, and my other cousin, their daughter, Nymp-" (Tonks put her hand over his mouth, silencing him. He looked at the young Auror and nodded, causing her to let go—Dora Tonks, who is an Auror and prefers to go by her surname only. "The next time you cover my mouth, Tonks, I'll bite your fingers off." Everyone, this is Hermione Granger—a world-class academic, the brightest witch of the age, and my best friend.

"Oooh, Harry, you shouldn't say things like that. There are women who are much more intelligent than I am." Despite her words, Hermione couldn't help but smile at Harry's praise. Hermione moved closer to her parents, causing Harry and the Tonkses to follow.

"Harry, these are my parents, Doctors Daniel and Emma Granger. Mum, Dad, this is Harry Potter, the greatest wizard of our generation, my only academic rival in Gryffindor, and my best friend."

"It's lovely to meet you, Harry. Hermione speaks very highly of you, and I, for one, can't wait to have you over to the house. It seemed to Harry that much like her daughter, Emma Granger was a very nice and highly affectionate woman."

"We were about to sit down for dinner here, since it's so late. Why don't you join us, and you can tell us all about what's been going on? Your boboes could tell us much, other than that it would be prudent for you not to return to your guardian's house. Which, in the non-magical world, really only indicates one thing." Daniel Granger spoke in a deep, calming baritone and gestured to a large booth situated in a corner of the pub.

The Grangers sat on one side of the booth, the Tonkses on the other, with the two preteens in the middle. "Why don't you tell us what's been happening, Harry? Keep in mind that we are on your side. We all want what is best for you," Emma spoke in a measured and reassuring manner that spoke of a deep-seated love and affection for the children under her charge. And Harry spoke. Of loneliness, of pain, of torment, of nights spent crying in his cupboard as silently as he could because of the pain, either physical or emotional. He spoke of growing up without comprehending why his family hated him. He spoke of his life for close to two hours, more clearly and completely than he did with Mr. Tonks, and he was able to do this because of Hermione's presence, the constant warm hand squeezing his, the tears glinting in her eyes that she stubbornly refused to let fall. When he finally fell silent, the other adults remained silent. No one knew what to say or how to say it if they did.

Harry let out a huge yawn. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm bloody knackered."

"Language, Harry," both kids looked at each other and grinned.

"I have had the worst Wednesday ever. The only good part was Dumbledore being arrested."

"Well," Emma spoke up, "it is close to eleven. We should get the kids home and asleep. I suspect today will be busy as well."

As they parted, each of the Tonkses gave Harry a big hug, and Tonks reminded him to drink the potions the healer had given him to help him sleep that night. The Grangers and Harry left the pub and made the fifteen-minute drive to their condo in London. Harry sat on the couch in the living room as he listened to Emma explain the layout of the house. When she and Daniel came to show Harry to the guest room, they found Harry and Hermione asleep on the couch, hand in hand, her head resting against his shoulder. Harry's dreamless sleep potion lay forgotten on the coffee table. The two parents stilled and, smiling at each other, left the two to sleep. They had never seen their daughter so peaceful in sleep and wouldn't disturb her now that she had found it.

Chapter Text

Harry's nose itched, or rather, something was itching Harry's nose—a new sensation that began drawing on his awareness. Coupled with the warm and welcoming scent that filled his nostrils and the slight weight that pressed on his torso finally registering through his semi-conscious mind, Harry was jolted to awareness, causing both himself and—he realized mid-action—Hermione to fall to the ground, forcing a loud scream from his throat and an ear-splitting screech from Hermione. Harry's fight-or-flight response had been triggered, and he felt for his wand, seeing in the back of his mind a horrible wraith cloaked in the ashes of a professor hurtling at him, about to envelop him—and he had no wand to—

HARRY POTTER!

He froze mid-action, mid-thought, and his clouded eyes seemed to sharpen as he looked at Hermione.

"Hermione, how?" Harry whispered, looking around, breathing hard, and jumping slightly as he felt a gentle arm on his shoulder.

"Harry, it's okay. We're the only ones here now. No one can hurt you while I'm around." The ash wraith collapsed back into the shadows of Harry's mind, causing Harry to look around wildly, convinced of the entity's authenticity, of the threat that surrounded him and his friend.

"Hermione..." Harry sank to his knees, his breath heavy and ragged. "What? Where?" Harry looked around, his eyes blank. It was at that point that Hermione realized that Harry wasn't conscious; somewhere in that turmoil, his brain had shut off. With great difficulty, she dragged him back onto the couch, wrapped her arms around the troubled young man, and held him, crooning a soft tune her mother had sung to her when she was a little girl scared of the summer storms—a soft lullaby, a cradle song. When she noticed that her best friend had released his tension and finally fallen back into a full sleep, she allowed her eyes to close again, her last glimpse at the clock on the wall reading 4:43. She fell back into a peaceful doze with her Harry still by her side.

It was several hours later that Harry woke up without any recollection of the previous night's events. He felt a weight on his chest and a familiar and pleasant scent in his nose. He opened his eyes and finally remembered. Hermione. They had been talking late into the night and must have fallen asleep against each other.

"Hermione, hey, Hermione," he nudged her a few times.

The girl in question grumbled a few times and swatted his hand away.

"Hermione, I don't exactly mind being used as a pillow, but if you don't get up, we're both going to have a problem neither one of us wants to clean up." (more grumbles) "Come on, I have to use the loo!"

The girl in question groaned sadly and sat up.

"Fine, but you'd better get back here fast. You were comfortable here."

"Oh, no need for that," called Emma Granger from the kitchen. "You children will only get away with things like that on rare occasions. You may not be teenagers yet, but Harry is still a boy, and there is to be decorum in this house. You have years and years yet to sneak around and cuddle with boys, Hermione." Harry grew a fantastic shade of scarlet as he left the room in the direction of where the Grangers had said the toilet was the previous night. When Harry returned, Hermione was nowhere to be seen, so uneasy in an unfamiliar place, he went to where he knew someone at least was: the kitchen. Upon entering, he saw Emma Granger working away at the stove. She turned then and looked his way. "Hello, Harry, how did you sleep?"

"As well as I normally do. I'm not a fan of strange places, but having Hermione probably helped. I don't really remember falling asleep."

"We didn't think you would hear us. We were talking to you, giving you a rundown of the house, and we came in, and you and Hermione were both asleep."

"Where?"

"Is Hermione? She's in the upstairs bathroom going through her own morning routine. No doubt she'll be back down shortly." Sure enough, it wasn't 20 minutes later that Hermione came down dressed in comfortable clothes. Harry had noticed that Hermione tended to wear shades and tints of blue outside of Hogwarts. "You know, Hermione, blue is definitely your color. It just works with you," Harry said, smiling widely and blushing fiercely.

Hermione blushed back and thanked him quietly.

"What a charmer! I wish the boys were brave enough to speak like that to me when I was your age," Hermione's mother said with a wistful smile on her face while serving up breakfast: a portion of porridge with fruit and a side of bacon and sausage.

"Well, no one is braver than Harry, always the first to stick his nose where it doesn't belong to help someone out." Hermione said this, smiling broadly and proudly, yet Harry just shrugged and focused on his breakfast, the two Granger women laughing at his embarrassment.

"So, er, where is Mr. Granger?" Harry looks around the dining room as if the older man might be hiding underneath the table. "Oh," said Emma brightly. "He went to the practice. We have been gone a month, you know. We decided that for Hermione's summer holidays that we would take alternating days off to spend quality time with her while he's home and then on the weekends we'll go out and do something as a family. We're going to the British Museum this weekend. You're more than welcome to come along no matter what happens tomorrow. And on that note, Harry, I need to know. Have you put any thought as to where you're going to stay if you get your independence? You'll need a place immediately. You can't live on the streets during the holidays."

"Oh, well, Mr. Tonks said that the Wizengamot will, if and when they grant me 'partial majority,' pretty much give me a court order to give the bank that will give me access to 25 percent of the Potter estate, including properties. They'll give me a list, and I'll be able to pick one to live in."

"One estate?" Emma hesitantly asked.

"Yeah, apparently my family is quite wealthy," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders and speaking in an indifferent tone.

"How wealthy are you, if you don't mind me asking?" Emma asked with interest.

"I'm not sure, but Mr. Tonks has been working for me full-time for a while now, and he hasn't brought up payment once. So, I guess he's wealthy. I'm eleven, so the bank won't give me bank statements until I'm at least fourteen, and then only with the permission of my magical guardian."

I can tell you that my trust vault has about fifty thousand galleons in it, which is," Harry paused here, thinking.

"Roughly two point five million galleons," Hermione interjected. "It seems an outrageous amount of money until you realize there are school books that cost twelve galleons, which seems trivial compared to Harry's wealth, but that's a week's pay for most people. It's why second-hand shops are so popular in the wizarding world. A new copy of Advanced Potions books can cost eight to twelve galleons, but a used one might be two or three. Sure, it's slightly stained, but you can still afford food."

"Err, I hadn't thought of that. I don't really have a concept of money. The Dursleys never exactly gave me pocket money or let me buy anything. I never realized how expensive the wizarding world is."

"That's because it's not, if you're from the wizarding world. But Muggle-born wizards and witches get the brunt of the effects between the fees for changing Muggle money to wizarding money. Mum and Dad figured I'd be going to law school, so they saved up a pretty good college fund for me already. But every time they go to add to the Gringotts vault that they transferred it to, there's still a five percent charge on any money changed." Hermione was sounding more and more indignant with every word she spoke.

"Unfortunately, Hermione is speaking the truth. If we didn't have the practice, I don't think we could afford to send her to Hogwarts," Emma Granger said, sounding very morose but brightening up immediately. "But we're not complaining. Always the very best for our Hermione, and they say Hogwarts is the very best school in Europe."

Err... well, after tomorrow, how about we all go and talk to Mr. Tonks? I know of at least two families interested in sponsoring you, Hermione.

At this, Hermione went red and with a confused and elated expression, said very quickly, "Really, me? Who? Why? Oh my god, an actual pureblood sponsor! That is incredibly rare. Who are they, Harry?"

"Well, me for one, and the other is Cyrus Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass's father. He mentioned it at dinner the other night, something about sponsoring you being 'profitable.' I gathered he wasn't talking about money either, but he's a good man, not like Malfoy, you know."

Hermione sat thinking slowly, eating her breakfast. Which passed in relative silence after that, except for the scrape of spoon on bowl as Mrs. Granger stood and collected the dishes and began to wash them.

"So, what do you have planned for the day, kids?" Emma Granger asked curiously.

"Well," said Hermione. "I know Harry has never been around London at any length. His relatives used to just leave him home alone or with a neighbor, so I thought we'd just walk around, show him some places, maybe do a bit of shopping, and make our way over to Diagon Alley."

Harry nods at that. "That sounds good. While we're there, I can pop into Mr. Tonks' office and see if he has any last-minute developments before tomorrow." A tapping at the window interrupted Harry as all three inhabitants of the kitchen turned to see an austere-looking gray barn owl waiting there, an impatient look about itself with a small scroll in the bird's beak. Harry leapt up and crossed the kitchen faster than Hermione or her mother could react, opening the window and taking the note in his hand. The owl flew off almost as soon as Harry touched the scroll of parchment.

Harry, recognizing Mr. Tonks's handwriting, unfurled the scroll immediately and read.

"Dursleys arrested, will face Ministry"

"Please come to my office ASAP so we can discuss this development."

-Ted Tonks

Harry looked up and read the note aloud to the two women in the room, an ecstatic, almost euphoric, grin on his face.

"It looks like we have our first stop for the day."

And so it was that one hour later, Emma, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter strolled through the doors of Phisk/Tonks Law Office. Harry noted that the energy of the place seemed even more dull and depressing at nine-thirty in the morning than it did in the afternoon, likely because the entire office was preternaturally still. The last time he was there, legal aides and workers were bustling through the quiet atmosphere, so even if everything was hushed, there was still an air of activity. This early, though, it seemed the thrum of life had not yet seeped into the bones of the workers who were gathered in various morning meetings. It all unnerved Harry to the extreme; his teeth were immediately on edge as he traversed the cubicles, offices, and meeting rooms that stood between him and "Executive Office B." Once he had crossed the room, he stood in front of a door with a fogged glass window and large gold-painted letters that read:

"EXECUTIVE OFFICE"

"THEODORE T. TONKS."

Harry walked into the hushed office, only to stop, nonplussed, as he saw his lawyer and uncle nonchalantly talking to a man sitting in his office's small fireplace. Harry felt two independent small bumps as the two Grangers made to follow him but stopped after he did, and they all stared at this very strange sight.

The older man, noticing the movement, looked over and saw them. He held his hand up, forestalling any speech from the small group.

The head was speaking rather hurriedly. "And I told her, 'You can't expect us to fall into step just because you work for Fudge. That was illegal, what she wanted us to do. How that foul toad got anywhere near the position she has is beyond me.'"

"Alright, Mr. Borgin, that's all I need for now. Thank you. You'll have to back out now, as another client came in." And with that, the head seemed to get smaller before a soft pop announced its departure.

"My apologies, Harry. I've been in the middle of investigating reports of ministerial corruption for two years now."

"Well, I hope you get whatever you're going after. Now, what did you want to discuss? Them being arrested seems pretty straightforward, but I don't see how it happened. I never reported them."

"Well, you didn't. But my daughter did. She's been hounding Madam Bones for days, but I think that last instance convinced her. Harry, they're being tried before the Wizengamot. The full Wizengamot. The same day as your hearing."

"But they're not magical!"

"I know something like this has only happened three times before; the last one happened in 1691, two years before the Statute of Secrecy came into full effect. I was researching this to find out how best to punish the Dursleys for their treatment of you. During that time, the Wizarding Council, which was in the middle of its reformation into the Wizengamot, was in the throes of setting precedence in its procedures. It came to be set that if a magical child was shown great bodily harm and outrageous neglect (what nowadays we can interpret as child abuse) by their parent or guardian who are not magical (i.e., are Muggles), then the A parent or guardian shall, in the very nature of being aware of the magical community, be tried in the magical community under magical law for it was a magical that was injured, and they, being the parents or guardians of a magical child, should be aware of magical law. Pretty much because the Dursleys abused you because of your magic, then they themselves submitted themselves to be tried and punished by magic. It's one of the few times that the Wizengamot has passed a law or precedent to protect Muggle-borns.

"So, what does this mean for my hearing?" asked Harry.

Ted smiled. "I'm happy to say that this will make getting you away from them relatively easy. Only a Sith deals in absolutes, but I will say that it is most assuredly a certainty that they will be barred from having custody of you, no matter what the old meddler says or does." But convincing the Wizengamot to grant an eleven-year-old emancipation is still not likely to be easy. In that regard, you'll be happy to hear that Cyrus Greengrass has given his backing to your request, despite the rather unfortunate dinner party." Ted gestures to an open letter bearing a green wax seal.

Harry was nearly jumping with joy. "Has Gringotts gotten back to you with that list of Potter properties yet, now that Herm—" Harry stops here mid-sentence, and his vision cycles between Hermione, her mother, and Mr. Tonks.

"Damn! I'm sorry, Ted. I've been reading that etiquette book you gave me, and I've just done something very rude. Ted Tonks, this is Hermione and Emma Granger. Hermione, Mrs. Granger, this is Ted Tonks, my solicitor and distant cousin."."

"A pleasure," all three said at the same time, then turned to Harry for him to continue."Well...errr...like I was saying, I'd like Hermione and her mother's opinions since they're here."

"Unfortunately, Gringotts will not release that list until after the judgment has been made. You will, however, find it interesting that Gringotts has voluntarily released the Potter family financial records to the court for your hearing. This is a rare occurrence; they usually have to be subpoenaed to release that kind of thing. I imagine Dumbledore has recently offended them. But that is only speculation on my part; I will not claim to be an expert in dealing with that lot. Now, Harry, as good as it is to see you happy and safe with your friend here, I have work to do, and you have a childhood that need not be spent watching an old fogey potter away with his pens while preparing for your hearing tomorrow. Go, leave, have fun. Tomorrow will be an emotional and dull day for us all, I am sure..

And so it was, an hour and a half later, that Harry, Hermione, and Emma Granger found themselves in Florian Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, surrounded by the two women's magical shopping bags (Harry's treat, yes, he was sure). They were eating the most amazing ice cream any of them had ever tasted. Hermione had settled for Vapor Viper Vanilla, a flavor that made your breath billow out in thick smoke that smelled like the richest vanilla flavor ever. Emma had decided on the house favorite, Fortescue's Fantastic Fudge Feasts and Where to Find Them (complete with an interactive world map and a list of some 30 animals). This flavor causes the person who eats it to shout out random animal noises (also includes authentic Honeydukes fudge). It's a favorite of small children. And Harry had bravely decided on Damon's Demonic Delights, Miniature. cherry cordials in dark chocolate shells in dark chocolate ice cream. They couldn't decide what this flavor did for a while until Harry looked up after Hermione offered him a bite of her own ice cream, and she saw that the whites of his eyes were pitch black, which made the emerald color of his irises seem to glow. It was so shocking that Hermione and her mother had screamed, which caused Harry to scream, which revealed his now-pointed teeth, which renewed the screaming and caused the whole restaurant/ice cream parlor to break out in laughter..

It turned out the Leaky Cauldron offered house-elf delivery for a small fee, so Harry paid the fee plus a tip, and a house-elf, nearly apoplectic with joy at helping "the Harry Potter, sir," tapped Hermione Granger on the forehead, straightened up with as much dignity as his pillowcase would allow, and snapped both fingers. Suddenly, the elf and all the bags (mainly of heavy books and some clothes) were gone with a sharp CRACK! Then, with another crack, the elf was back, and he bowed to them before continuing to scrub the floor as he had been before. Being approached. Some 15 minutes later, he saw the small group in the heart of London. Harry had no idea which street he was on, only that it was very near King's Cross and he was in line to see the latest Disney movie to be released, "Beauty and the Beast." Hermione and Emma had raved over the title and persuaded Harry that they should watch it. He had never been in a movie theater before, so he couldn't think of a reason not to and readily agreed. He followed the two women to get soda and popcorn and to find a spot in the near-empty dark theater (the movie had been out for quite some time, Emma had explained). And settled down to watch his first film in a theater. At some point, he had found himself absentmindedly holding Hermione's hand, humming a tune from the movie. After the film ended, the group decided to head back to the Granger's house. By the time they got there, Mr. Granger would be home from work, Emma had explained. On the drive back, Harry's eyes had grown heavy, and the young man drifted off to a quiet nap, surrounded by his friends, the warmth of family, and peace of mind for the first time ever during the summer holiday. With an absent smile, the boy drifted away into the realm of dreams, where he found himself dancing with Hermione, both looking just as regal as the two characters from the movie.

Chapter Text

Harry was smiling, smiling in a house in the Muggle world, smiling for the first time—a completely open, innocent, truly happy smile—and it was all due to his best friend and her amazing parents, who were currently debating which Star Wars movie was better: A New Hope or Return of the Jedi. Hermione was adamant that the cinematography of Return of the Jedi outshone all facets of the original, while Dan Granger argued that nothing could compete with the achievements of A New Hope and that "no sequel can compare with the original."

Harry himself didn't have an opinion and kept out of it, having never seen a single Star Wars movie in his life. Something told him that informing his hosts of that fact would lead to many subsequent viewings. Not that he was against watching the movies, but he felt like getting out of the house today since he would no doubt spend most of tomorrow cramped not only inside but in a select few chairs. Harry had no idea how long the hearing would stretch, but Mr. Tonks indicated that it would take quite a long time.

"No, no, no, can't you see it's the improved visual effects that finally carry the story George Lucas was—" "HERMIONE!" Hermione was telling her father something for the third time when Harry interrupted her. She slowly turned to look at him, eyes wide, about to tell him off for interrupting her when she saw the apology on his face. "Sorry, but didn't you say you were going to show me around the neighborhood? Not that I mind this debate, but since I'm going to spend most of tomorrow in a chair, I'd rather spend the rest of today up and walking with you. You know I don't sit still very long." "Of course, Harry, I apologize. We've almost talked the entire afternoon away. Give me fifteen minutes to get ready, and then I'll take you along the neighborhood." Hermione said this, looking very bashful, but brightened up when she saw that Harry was still beaming. With that, she hurried off to her room to gather whatever she needed, which turned out to be a different pair of shoes, a small hip bag, and her wild hair trapped in the same paperboy hat he had seen her in previously.

"Well? Where are we going first?" Harry asked as they set out after saying goodbye to the Granger parents.

"Oh, just around there is a lovely park, just down the road. I used to go there a lot after school, before I came to Hogwarts." Hermione gestured down the road while continuing to talk. It was several silent and content minutes later that Hermione once again spoke up. "Harry?" Hermione said rather hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"How often do you have nightmares?" Hermione stopped and looked him in the eye so she had Harry's full focus.

"Errr, rarely. Why?" Harry said, sounding confused.

"Because this morning I think I startled you a bit when I woke up, and I think you started acting out your nightmare. You started struggling and almost screaming, but after a minute your eyes went blank and even though you were still fighting I could tell you weren't awake. You calmed down shortly after and it was like nothing happened. I wasn't even sure if you would remember it happening."

"Oh...that...that (Harry heaved a large sigh), that wasn't a dream or a nightmare. Ever since we went down that trapdoor, I've been seeing what's left of...you-know-who...covered in the ashes of Quirrell, flying at me and screaming that horrible scream. It happens completely randomly and only a few times now. In fact, it hasn't happened since my uncle and I got into it, and I started down this insane path to independence. My brain has been too sidetracked to think about it, I guess."

Madam Pomfrey said that a panic response might set these visions off—something called PTSD or shell shock. So when you woke me up, it must have triggered whatever panic response she was talking about and set me off. My brain probably just shut back down. I don't really know; I haven't had the chance to look anything up. Madam Pomfrey explained it a lot better than I did." Harry turned around to face away from her while he explained all this.

"But you're okay, right, Harry?" Harry looked back up at Hermione when she asked this.

"I really don't know, Hermione. I don't think I've ever been what anyone would call okay. Most of my dreams are about my aunt, cousin, and uncle beating me. It happens so frequently that they don't even bother me. They aren't scary; they're not nightmares, not anymore, though I do dream about the troll from Halloween sometimes now." Harry smiled at this, as if battling a full-grown mountain troll was a fond memory.

"Have you thought about therapy?"

Not really, I never looked into it before Hogwarts, but I know a kid can't set their own appointments. And from what I know of the wizarding world, I doubt that the magicals have therapy. Madame Pomfrey understands basic psychology, I think, but even her go-to response was to hand me potions.

"That's not right! How can anyone deal with traumatic events like that in the wizarding world if no one studies psychology?"

Harry laughed at her indignity. "Well, maybe that's something one of us can introduce to the wizarding world in the future. It's as good a goal as any." At this, Harry looked up into the clear August sky, took a deep, slow breath, and looked around the empty dome of the heavens. "It would be a fantastic day for a flight on my broom. That might be the worst part about being back in the Muggle world—I can't fly, not in the daytime at least."

Well, I can't say I agree, but I understand the sentiment," Hermione spoke, gazing around the cloudless ether above them. Hermione was not a fan of flying; her fear of heights and trepidation caused the brooms not to respond to her. But Harry thought that might be the school brooms. He made a mental note to let her fly on his Nimbus when they returned to Hogwarts.

As the preteens arrived at the park, Hermione gestured grandly, like a ringmaster leading a circus.

"I present for your entertainment the 'Shakespeare Adventure and Playpark.' It was a small, shabby-looking play park. The swing set only had three seats, and one of those was for an infant. The slide appeared to be about 50 years old and was so neglected that it was rusted. Part of the jungle gym had collapsed in on itself, no doubt from the local teens jumping on it and trying to break it further."

"Err, Hermione, no offense, but this place is depressing."

That caused Hermione to laugh and, looking at Harry with mirth-filled eyes, she said

"Oh, I know it wasn't always this bad, but aside from swinging, I never really played here. Plenty of the neighborhood kids played here while I was here, but I was never included, so i always ended up reading in the sunlight."

She then gestured towards a bench with a large tree providing shade over it and a medium-sized pond. The tree looked a bit odd, a bit lopsided to Harry, but he couldn't fathom what had happened to such a large tree.

"what happened to that tree, Hermione?"

Hermione, beaming that he picked up what she had wanted him to say, said in a cheerful voice, "I asked my dad about it a few summers ago. He grew up in our house; he bought it from my grandparents when they moved after retiring. He explained that around here, that tree is called the V2 tree. During World War 2, that tree was struck by something called a V2 rocket from Germany, and it obliterated the top half of the tree. It landed and blew up right where that pond is." Harry looked at the almost perfectly circular pond.

"So that pond isn't a pond, really; it's a bomb crater?"

"is a war wound, a battle scar. Except instead of erasing it or leaving it behind as an ugly reminder, the people around here came together to make it a beautiful and welcome part of the landscape." Harry stood there staring at the pond before shifting to look at Hermione and smiled.

"Thanks, Hermione."

"Whatever are you thankful for, Harry? Come on, you can push me on the swing for a bit."

It was several hours later that a tired Harry and Hermione reentered the Granger house to find it empty, a note sitting on the kitchen table.

"Hermione and Harry, we left to go get takeout. Be back soon."

"Oh, it's not too often that we eat out two days in a row. I wonder what they're getting," Hermione said, her eyes sparkling.

"I don't know, I guess we're just going to have to wait and see. I've only eaten out a few times, and never anywhere good with the Dursleys. There was one time I went shopping with Dudley and Aunt Petunia, and Dudley wanted "Maccies." Aunt Petunia had to give me something because it would look bad, so I got to eat a full regular hamburger for the first time that day. And the fries! They had the best fries I'd ever tasted."

Hermione was silent then, silent as the grave. Harry figured he had overshared again about the abuses his aunt and uncle foisted on him. Harry knew he shouldn't talk about how he was raised, but they were such an everyday occurrence that he really stopped being able to tell what was normal or not.

"Hermione... it's okay, really. The way they treated me never bothered me."

"THATS BECUASE TO YOU IT WAS NORMAL HARRY! NORMAL TO BE STARVED AND BREATEN! NORMAL TO THINK LESS OF YOUR SELF! if i ever get my wand on the dursleys im going to jinx them into jellies! NO forget my wand ill strangle them with my bare hands."

"Well, that will be pretty difficult for Dudley and Uncle Vernon. But you really shouldn't trouble yourself; they're not worth the effort.". Scum, that's what they are and what they have been. I see that now, especially ever since they reset my brain at St. Mungo's. I can see that it was a passivity curse or something that led me to just go along with everything for so long. Another crime of Dumbledore's that he will be paying for tomorrow. Either I'll see to it or Smara will.

"Where is Smara? I haven't seen her the entire time you've been here."

Oh, well, she's not actually here. After I was hospitalized by my uncle the other day, I couldn't go back to Privet Drive to get her. But I can feel she's okay and content. I think she's lazing about in the sun; the familiar bond gives me a few basic details if I focus on it. Harry closes his eyes and draws deeper into the bond. "Yes, I think that Hedwig must have taken her to Ron's house. I know it's in the countryside somewhere. I guess we'll see. I know that if I focus, I can find her no matter where she is, so I'm not too worried. I know she's not at Privet Drive anymore, so I'm not too worried."

"Well," Hermione said, deep in thought, "what would you like to do until my parents get back?"

"Hmm, I don't know, really. I suppose you can start the Star Wars movie since you and your dad were talking about them earlier."

With that, the two children sat together, and Hermione explained all her favorite parts of the next two Star Wars films. Many laughs were had. Much food brought home by Hermione's parents was eaten, and the two friends fell asleep on opposite ends of the couch for the second night in a row. Not for the first time now, Harry had the ever-increasingly familiar thought before he fell asleep:

All is well.

Chapter Text

Our story restarts on the kind of overcast, dreary day people so often associate with London and the United Kingdom as a whole. Clouds filled the sky, a steady drizzle filled the streets, and it was generally agreed that the day was going to be a long and unhappy one, especially for anyone who works outside.

It was 6:00 in the morning on August the 7th, and there were two children awake. That two children were awake at six in the morning was odd enough, but this strange happenstance barely scratched the surface of the oddities. Hermione Granger, the almost thirteen-year-old girl, was already being hailed as the brightest witch of her generation and the most powerful magical muggle-born witch of her age on record. But that paled in comparison to the boy sitting across from her at the kitchen table, somberly munching on toast: Harry Potter. Harry Potter was weird, even by wizarding standards. Short, skinny for his age, and unassuming in his bearing, yet the boy was famous for having destroyed the darkest dark wizard in the history of the British Isles when he was but a baby. A quiet boy whose abilities no one could pin down, not even his teachers, and yet everyone expected great things to come from the boy. Harry knew the public expectations from reading modern history books, articles, and even a small series of children's books that stopped publication when he turned if the young man was honest with himself and suppressed his humility, he could admit that things were likely to head in the direction of what the public wanted. Already in his short existence as a wizard, he had fought and killed a full-grown mountain troll, took the second-place spot in their test scores and the first-place spot on the practical exams for first years, discovered Slytherin's long-hidden chamber, tamed a basilisk, worked alongside two other first years to pass through a series of deadly obstacles to rescue the Philosopher's Stone from the semi-resurrected hands of that same dark wizard he had supposedly destroyed as an infant. Yes, Harry Potter was a very strange and gifted young man, and he was awake with his friend Hermione at a very strange hour because of the very strange circumstances of the day: a hearing, a full hearing in front of the Wizengamot. His nerves and anxiety prevented him from getting any form of rest after the boy had woken up several hours ago for the loo and, growing coherent enough to realize what waking up meant for the day, he had been unable to fall back asleep. He knew that Mr. Tonks would be around to collect him before the hearing; he was regretting not asking his solicitor for an itinerary, for Harry had no clue when the old man was going to be there. So Harry found himself sitting at the Granger family's kitchen table, staring at and unable to eat the simple honey-laden porridge that Hermione had made for him to eat. Hermione's parents were dentists, so the presence of sugar was a very rare occurrence in their house. And so Harry sat, his stomach in nervous knots, listening to Hermione fill the tense air with speculation on the next school year that would begin in less than a month. Harry appreciated that she was trying to distract him, but he knew it wouldn't work. After 12 years, Harry might finally get what he had always wanted: to be free of his aunt and uncle. Harry was currently deep in thought, remembering the long and painful hours he had spent in his cupboard as a child, crying alone, wanting nothing more than for his aunt to hold him like she did Dudley. Wanting the painful loneliness to be gone. Wanting nothing but the love and attention his classmates, first in nursery school then primary school, got from their Parents. He remembered the sad revelation in his third year of primary school when his uncle had actually beaten him for the first time: that his relatives would never love him or treat him even as a human. The realization that he was little more than an animal to his uncle, and his aunt thought little better of him. After that, he dreamed of just leaving, that some unknown relative would come and rescue him. But none ever did, and he gave that dream up as well, and Harry realized that he didn't really remember much between then and when he had started Hogwarts. That was most likely, Harry realized, when the potions and spells must have begun. The words rang out in Harry's mind tauntingly this time, and not as jovial as they had originally sounded from the old man. "I don't need a cloak to become invisible."

Time passed slowly for Harry. Hermione had fallen silent after a time, probably realizing that not even the next school year and continuing their academic rivalry would distract Harry at all in the current situation. So she opted to sit with him and comfort him in silence, trying futilely to get him to eat.

It was at eight o'clock sharp that Harry, Hermione, and her parents, who had come down and sat with the two children in silence, heard a soft crack and then a quick series of knocks on the backdoor of the Granger town house. Hermione shot up to answer the door. She opened it to reveal Ted Tonks in a pin-striped clock and three-piece suit. For the first time, Harry saw Mr. Tonks as the veteran lawyer he was. The older man was quite intimidating when he wanted to be, and Harry saw something that made him yell in elation as he practically jumped over the kitchen table. "SMARA!" He reached Mr. Tonks and didn't even acknowledge him before reaching his hand out and allowing the long serpent to wrap herself around his arm and then around his neck, settling there to look him deep in the eyes. The entire kitchen was silent except for a sultry hissing coming from two different voices. The four other occupants in the room shivered in response to the noise.

"Smaragdine! I've missed you! I had wondered where you went to. I could feel you sunning yourself through the bond but couldn't tell where you were. I figured Hedwig took you to my friend Ron's house out in the country!" Harry spoke this with pure elation in his voice, excited to have his partner back with him.

"No, silly boy, I was taken to your cousins house by that excitable owl of yours. I only revealed myself to them yesterday evening when I sensed the rain coming. It's a cold rain and would make me drowsy being out in it. Plus, I knew that today was your hearing, and I wanted to be with you. If the old ones refuse your freedom and safety, I will stare them down in my full glory until they change their minds." Smara pressed the top of her scaly head to Harry's forehead.

With the reunion finished, Harry finally turned his attention to his solicitor. "Hello, Mr. Tonks. What's the plan for the day?"

"Well, I thought we could stay here and hash everything out over breakfast if we haven't eaten already?" Ted looks at the adults, Hermione, and then to the still-full bowl of porridge. "Ahhh." He looks at Harry. "Too nervous to eat, then? Would you drink a few sips of a calming draught? I always bring some along for a client on the day of the trial."

"Err... no, sir, I'd prefer to deal with things myself. Given the past few years, I'm rather wary of potions that affect my mind," Harry said hesitantly.

"Right then, well, let's begin. To start with your hearing, Harry, it will begin at 11:30. Now, I took the liberty of having this house connected to the Floo Network temporarily. Of course, there is a high-value individual staying here, and the fact that there are two magicals here as well for now clears enough requirements for an exemption. So, we will head out at 10:30 through the Floo Network to the Ministry Atrium. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, as Muggles, you will have to be guided by a magical through the Floo, which Miss Granger and I should be able to accomplish swiftly. As I understand it, you two wish to give in-person testimony to the Wizengamot and support for Harry?"

"Yes, that's right. What entails going through the Floo? It's fire transport, right?" Mrs. Granger said, sounding hesitant about the idea.

"It's simple enough." Mr. Tonks looks at Harry and Hermione. "Have either of you gone through the Floo Network before?" At the shake of both children's heads, the older man seemed slightly awkward. "Ah, well then I might have to enlist my wife for assistance just so nothing goes wrong. She was just going to meet us there, but if you're going through the Floo for the first time, it's best done by yourself."

It's a relatively simple process, however." He pulls a small porcelain pot out of his pocket and lifts the lid, revealing a greyish-green powder. "You approach a lit fireplace, take a large pinch of this powder, throw it in the flame; it will then turn a green color. You call out the name of your destination. In our case, it will be "Ministry of Magic Atrium." You then step into the fire and will be whisked away to your location. It's important to note that you should not fidget too much or throw yourself around and to keep your arms tucked to your sides and your legs straight, very much like you're going down a very, very tall and steep water slide. The Floo Network itself will guide you to your destination as long as you allow it to. As you acclimatize to it, you won't need to tuck yourself in so much; most older witches and wizards can simply walk in and walk out, barely breaking their stride." Mr. Tonks stands and gestures for everyone to stand. "If you can show me to your fire, I'll demonstrate by bringing my wife in."

"Oh," Mrs. Granger said, "of course, this way, just through the door here." And the group moved through the house and surrounded the Granger fireplace.

With a wave of Mr. Tonks' wand, the fireplace enlarged to where he could easily stand in it. He looked at the amazed looks on the Grangers' faces. "A simple spatial distortion spell makes small things big and big things small, but they will go back to normal without harming the structure after about twelve hours. Today shouldn't quite take that long." With that, he cast a quick Incendio to light the fire and then took a pinch of powder, threw it in, and called out, "Tonks place!" before stepping in and disappearing in a whirl of emerald green fire. It was about two minutes later that Mr. and Mrs. Tonks stepped out of the fire. "And there we go, simple and safe. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, my wife, Healer Andromeda Tonks."

The two dentists looked at the regal bearing and aristocratic features of the middle-aged woman in front of them, and both of them knew they were looking at a very highborn woman. They could also tell that this healer was most likely the most dangerous person in the room.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Tonks. I must say, you picked a very impressive man to marry. I understand that you are also related to Harry?"

"Yes, we are...fifth cousins, I believe. I'm not sure. Family is family to the Blacks. If you're any type of aunt, you're an aunt. Any type of cousin, you're a cousin. It's easier to address and remember without offending, which was especially important in the family I was raised in. I am not aware if your daughter has spoken about the reputation of the Black family." Andromeda spoke with a smooth and even regal-sounding voice that Harry knew she had been trained to use for formal occasions. It was a mark of how important she placed meeting his friends' family, not a method of intimidation.

"I can't say that Hermione has spoken at all of a family with that name. A lot was spoken about a French name, mal...something."

"Malfoy," Hermione interjected hotly. Her mother looked at Hermione before continuing. "Malfoy, yes, but not Black. Is your family important in the magical world?"

"It was some 25 years ago. It's now nearly defunct. The only named Black now living will most likely die in prison. My family liked to believe they were a cut above the rest of every other human on the planet, and the family had the resources to make it seem so—not that that mattered to me. To my parents, my impressive and darling husband was a worm. They disowned me when I announced my engagement, not that it mattered to me. My cousin Sirius and I were called the white sheep of the Black family, the only two with a bit of sense in our skulls. But enough about me. My husband tells me that he was explaining the plans for the day."

"Yes, and we need to hurry. It's almost 9:30 now, and we have several last-minute things to discuss."

I have purposely left Harry relatively in the dark about the proceedings of this hearing so that he can rest and not stress over everything, but now I'll need to update him about a few things that have happened in the time since he was hospitalized. To begin with, Madam Bones has done three things. The first being that she promised support in your bid for emancipation. The second is that she has levied official charges against Vernon Dursley for several things, the worst being attempted murder of a Lord of the Crown. I know she's going to argue for actual murder since Harry's heart stopped beating several times when they were working on him.

And the third is that she has levied similar charges against Dumbledore in a very public way. She waited until yesterday when he was let out of jail for the altercation between you and him at the Dursley residence, then she re-arrested him in the middle of the Ministry Atrium, yelling every single charge levied against him for the entire hall to hear.

The next bit of related news is that both trials will happen today. The Wizengamot fast-tracked Dumbledore's first trial, which is actually happening right now. It was determined that you didn't need to testify; I was able to do that on your behalf, just turning some evidence over. This first trial is just to decide if he was guilty of child endangerment and any "high crimes or misdemeanors." It's a trial to determine if he needs to be removed from his positions of Chief Warlock and, most importantly, Headmaster of a school full of children. When I was excused from the proceeding to come and retrieve you, I can tell you it wasn't going well for him at all. Just the preceding events of your last school year, as evidenced by the memories you gave me, Harry, were enough to bury his career in education at the least. His next trial is far more personal to you, Harry, and will happen after your trial and after the Dursleys' trial.

the next bit of news is that i was able to accuire certain evidence from gringots pertaining to money coming monthly from ypur trust vualt Harry and being moved through several fronts and then beimg put into the dursleys bank account for "upkeep" was all was listed the bank was abke to trace these withdrawals to dumbledore only each transaction was for 1000 galleons and at 50 pounds to the galleon 50,000 pounds wich we can all say is far far to much for the upkeep on any child but especially the given the treatment given to mr. potter here. on top of that i subpoenaed the dursley bank records and they only reveived 1000 pounds a month wich is still a rediculous ampint of money for child support in anyform but once again taking into account how Harry was treated this is paramount to thievery sadly not ilegal but it was make our arguements againt alternatcie placement easier and it makes dumbledore look even worse. on his end pocketing the rest of the money in magical or muggle currency is theft; with him being your magical guardian he has the right to pay for your care but he doesnt habe the right to that money himself if he isnt raising ypu and since anyone can see he has basicaly ignored you unless it was to bewitch or potion ypu into conpliance. well its a crimianal charge we can exploit and we can sue him at his later trial for the return of all stolen funds.

The next order of business is that on top of Madam Bones, we have three others now pledging support. So, to do a current count of Wizengamot support, that is Longbottom, Greengrass, Bones, Abbott, Malfoy (surprisingly enough; Lord Malfoy must see an opportunity with you to make some money for his family), and Davis. This isn't too much of a surprise; the Davises are a minor family in the Wizengamot, and their daughter Tracy is good friends with Miss Greengrass. No doubt Cyrus told Lord Davis about his daughter's order of support. I'm not an expert psychologist, but experience tells me that with Madam Bones, Malfoy, Longbottom, and Greengrass all supporting you, it will convince more than enough of the rest of the Wizengamot to support you as well. Of course, some will see the Potter family businesses and fortune and will most likely contact you at a later time to convince you to do business with their family or their businesses on account of their magnanimous assistance in getting you away from three child abusers. Whether you do it when they ask is up to you; of course, they can't force you to do business with Them. And finally, I should give you a rundown on what I know and what I'm sure will happen today. First thing after we arrive at the site of the hearing, which is Conference Room 7 up on Level 10 (where the ministers' and Wizengamot offices are), you, Harry, will have a quick medical scan. It's just a preliminary check to see if you have been spelled or poisoned that day—simply a way to check fitness for trial. It's done to everyone prior to any Wizengamot action, from the members of the Wizengamot down. It's supposed to also determine if a person is under the Imperius Curse, but as we've learned, a skilled enough caster or willing enough "victim" can hide the presence of that curse from all detection." The man went quiet there, obviously lost in reminiscence.

"Err, Mr. Tonks?" Hermione supplied after a generous break for the older man's ponderings.

"Hmm? Oh, yes, yes, I'm sorry, lost in thought. Anyway… After the scan, you'll be brought into the room. The Wizengamot will be seated in a semi-circle with four tiers to allow all members a view of the proceedings. Hermione, you and your parents will be seated in the gallery until called, and Harry, you'll be at the plaintiff's table with me. That's the table closest to the entry door. The Dursleys, who are being escorted there by Nymphadora and Dumbledore as your magical guardian, will go to the defendants' table with their court-appointed lawyer. Now, I can tell you that you will have no contest from the Dursleys at all. They've already signed papers declaring their intent to disown you, and your aunt has signed support for your ability to care for yourself independently. This will count for a lot, but that will not count for the whole Wizengamot. Not only will they, but they must speak for your safety and well-being. There are powerful alliances in the Wizengamot that will not vote to emancipate you no matter what. Madame Marchbanks, for one, is the head of the Ministry of Education Authority. She will never support letting a child live away from a blood relative if one exists. But with enough support, and I'm sure we have enough, it will sway the vote in your favor. So after your aunt and uncle declare their intents and close their statements, we will start to call...witnesses for want of a better term.

Really, the only doubt I have is that if Dumbledore somehow gets himself placed as the Dursleys' lawyer somehow."He can do that?" Mrs. Granger asked incredulously.

"Oh yes, he very well can. We don't have law schools in the wizarding world. I've earned my title of solicitor and lawyer through apprenticeship with my partner that Harry has met a few times now, Mr. Phisk. Dumbledore, while not an outright member of the Wizengamot, has helped write almost sixty percent of all the laws that have been passed in the last sixty years. Anyone that demonstrates a workable knowledge of the law can be brought on as a representative in court. It's almost never done, you must understand. We have law firms a plenty and the Ministry itself hires people into the Office of Magical Law so that it can ensure habeas corpus for those that can't afford a private law firm. If Dumbledore does put himself in to "defend" the Dursleys, he will make himself vastly unpopular. But it will depend on what he loses in the hearing he is currently in, and if he thinks keeping Harry with his relatives will be worth losing more of his honored positions than he already has."

After a time of silence, with the four adults seeming to communicate silently."I really just want this to be over with," said Harry. "When do we head out?""Well," said Ted while flicking his wand out and casting a Tempus Charm, "it's nine forty-five now. I have an aide watching the courtroom, and he'll be in conta-"

A slight buzzing and vibrating filled the air, and Ted snatched a small mirror from his breast pocket in his robes. After saying "Jordy," a slightly nasally and high-pitched voice came out of the mirror. "Mr. Tonks, sir, they just finished with Dumbledore. They cleared out and sent in a cleaning detail to prepare for your hearing. They're all out to lunch. I think it makes sense since they've been tearing Dumbledore a new one since six in the morning.

"We'll be on our way shortly then. Do you know how things turned out?""Oh yes, sir. It went much the way you said you expected. Not only did the pureblood faction, but Madam Bones and Madam Marchbanks as well, all went for his blood once the events at Hogwarts last term and what you discovered about the Potters came up. It seems Mr. Travers had a lot of enjoyment in painting the happenings in the worst light possible. Dumbledore has been disbarred of his educational masteries, forced to resign as Headmaster, and is on administrative leave while they finish a full inquiry into his tenure as Chief Warlock.""Mr. Tonks, sir," interrupted Harry, "what did you find out about my family?""Harry, I was just going to let it come out at the hearing to get your genuine emotional reaction to the news. I can tell you now or later when it could further hurt Dumbledore. It's your choice, but it's a choice you must make quickly."

Harry stood in silence for a minute and looked at Hermione with a silent question.

""I'd wait, Harry. You don't know, and it won't put you in any danger to wait a few more hours for clarity. But, like Mr. Tonks said, it's up to you."

"Alright, waiting it is, then.""Excellent. Then I suggest we move out." Now, kids, just like we discussed...Harry and Hermione held hands as Harry threw the glittering powder into the fireplace and clearly yelled, "Ministry Atrium!" The two flew through a red and green haze, spinning unbelievably fast and witnessing the flashing images of all the other wizarding fireplaces they passed on the way to their destination until, with a feeling of being upchucked, the two kids were spat out, sprawling on the marble floor of the familiar atrium of the Ministry of Magic. Harry lay quite still, his world still spinning, and his forehead hurt from where Hermione had headbutted him upon reentry. He lay there still next to Hermione as a second green flash revealed Andromeda and Mrs. Granger, and a third revealed the two men. The Tonkses helped up Harry while the elder Grangers helped their daughter off the floor. After having the soot cleaned off of him and making sure Smara was still in her usual place, acting like a living belt, Harry turned and faced his doom.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15: an eventful start

"Harry Potter: The Boy and the Bowtruckle, Harry Potter: The Boy and the Bouncing Bulbs, Harry Potter: And the Nagging Hag, oh and my personal favorite Harry Potter: The Flight of the Phantom, I read it at least six times when it came out!" Nymphadora Tonks spoke to Hermione and Harry as Harry waited in the pre-trial chambers. Usually, people outside of the trial weren't allowed in, but as this was a formal hearing and the plaintiff was young, an exception was made to allow Hermione inside to keep him company. Nymphadora was actually supposed to be on duty protecting the room against intruders, which she had done not five minutes after Harry had gotten there. None other than Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore all but threw the door open and demanded entry to "speak" to Harry, as he put it, much to Harry's relief. His cousin cracked the door slightly. The door cast a petrifying curse on Dumbledore and told him in no uncertain terms that he was to clear off or she would make sure he faced even more charges than he had already had to deal with, witness tampering being the least dramatic of what she said. She then called three extra Aurors to guard the interior or exterior of the door, unfroze him, and sent him packing with an extra Auror escort. Yelling past to Dumbledore's current escort, Robards, that "I WILL BE REPORTING THIS TO MADAME BONES, YOU GREAT PILLOCK!"

Hermione and Harry snickered at Tonks's story about the "Harry Potter" adventure books. As well as the headmaster's face, it was clear he was used to getting what he wanted.

"I knew that the books existed, but I've never sought them out, and I've never heard the titles. Those are great! I wonder who wrote them?"

"I don't know. The author publishes them under a pseudonym, C. . That's all that anyone knows."

"Harry, what I want to know is if you receive royalty payments from the publisher that is using your name and likeness to make thousands, if not millions, of galleons."

I'm not sure. I don't have access to anything but my trust vault right now. If I get emancipated, I'm sure I'll be at Gringotts so much they might as well hire me, so I might as well inquire about that while I'm at it, if your father hasn't done it by now. I've noticed he has looked further into things than I expected him to when I hired him.

Tonks giggled at that, relaxing into the chair she was sitting on. "That's Dad for you—'go above and beyond for every client, be they prince or pauper.' I've brought that notion into Auror work as well. I've only been a full Auror for about a year, but I'm already facing a promotion. I doubt I'll get it, but the fact that my name is already in the running speaks volumes to my coworkers. Well, I best get back to guard duty. Best to look serious when my boss comes in to fetch you, which should be in about ten minutes."

Harry and Hermione sat and talked quietly until, true to Tonks's words, her boss entered the room. A man they had been introduced to earlier, Lead Auror Shacklebolt, a large, bald-headed black wizard wearing a spectacular kufi-style hat colored in bright yellow and vivid blues and purples, came and spoke in a deep, slow bass with a slight accent Harry assumed was from an African country. "Miss Granger, you're needed in the chamber. Go with Auror Tonks. Mr. Potter, you come with me. We go a different path, no public access, boss's orders."

The two children stood, and Hermione, never shy with her hugs, gave a warm and strong hug to Harry before stepping away. "Remember, Harry, you've got this. You have everything you need and have done everything right. No matter what, me and my parents are here for you." At that, she turned and exited the room with Tonks. Harry thought he saw a flash of a camera. "Err, Mr. Shacklebolt? The press isn't here, are they?"

"They are, but due to you being a minor, they have been barred from the room. It's only the Wizengamot, the court scribe, and, of course, the witnesses—or, in your case, people giving testimonials."

"Great," muttered Harry. "I didn't want to be a spectacle."

"Sometimes, Mr. Potter, that can't be avoided, especially where celebrities are concerned. Here,"

They stopped in front of a blank wall that seemed like a dead end, but when the older wizard put his hand on the wooden panel, it popped out. As he pushed the door open, Harry saw the conference room for the first time. It was more or less like a Muggle courtroom. The seating where the Wizengamot sat was raised and spread out to allow for comfortable seating. The two tables were spaced a respectable distance from each other, and the gallery was large and flat, with more than enough seating for the people who had shown up. The seating for the Wizengamot was all rich oak with reddish-brown tanned leather padding, thick and luxurious. Harry knew that with the cushioning charms that must be on the chairs, a person could probably sit comfortably for hours on end. The seating and tables for the plaintiff and defendant were the same rich oak, but the seats were indistinguishable from Muggle chairs—a rich sandy brown wood with a soft gray fabric with slight cushioning on the seats and top back panel, but none of these seats had arms to rest on. Amid the gallery seating, from what Harry could see, was the same rich sandy brown wood as the rest of the room, but in bench seating. They looked like church pews to Harry. And this all sat on a well-maintained carpet, the same type of gray as the cushions on the chairs.

Harry was impressed; he hadn't expected the room to be so bright and warm and feel so welcoming, and yet it did. Although he thought that the large, bright windows letting in the morning light might be fake, the light seemed a bit too... static.

The room itself was half empty; plenty of people sat in the gallery, but the defendants' chair was as of yet empty, and he knew the Wizengamot would probably not enter until the hearing actually began.

As Harry entered the room, Shacklebolt went to take his position by the double doors at the rear of the room. At the same time, Ted Tonks stood from the gallery next to Andromeda and the Granger family. The two approached the table, and Ted gestured for Harry to take the farthest seat. As he approached the chair, Harry stood still and, extending his arm to the table, Smara slithered down his arm to rest pointedly exactly in the middle of the table.

"Harry, I don't mean to sound like I disapprove of her presence, but it's probably a bad idea to have Smara staring at the Wizengamot given her nature. It might be considered a threat."

A short bout of hissing preceded Harry, who simply pointed at Smara and said, "Good. If they are to have the courage to attempt to harm my young one, then they should have the courage to stare death in the eyes." Harry shrugged and sat down, causing the lawyer to shake his head and facepalm in exasperation, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "overly protective eel." This caused Smara to release her skittering laughter as he sat down. Getting out four various-sized folders and three scrolls from a suitcase, he used his wand to stick them to his desk before saying, "Geminio," and flicked his wand to scatter copies of the paperwork to the small desks in front of each Wizengamot seat. He then sat down.

As Ted Tonks sat down, another Auror entered through another side panel, and in came Vernon Dursley, followed by Petunia Dursley and Dumbledore. The old man stopped and looked at Harry with what Harry was sure was supposed to be a very disappointed look, before carrying on and pulling out two thin folders and a single scroll. With a single flick of his wand, he copied and sent them flying to the tables next to Mr. Tonks's files before casually taking his seat. Harry looked at his lawyer to see the man staring straight ahead, beaming. It seemed that his cousin was pleased Dumbledore had acted just as he had anticipated. And then two doors opened at the top of the plinth that housed the Wizengamot seats, and out strode in slow and neat parades four lines of witches and wizards wearing deep purple robes. They all appeared to be in a rather old and billowing style that he had often seen in paintings at Hogwarts from the seventeenth century. Harry recognized about half of the faces from the two dinner parties he had attended: Lucius Malfoy and Cyrus Greengrass, who sent a nod in Harry's direction, and Madame Marchbanks, the ancient and brusque witch whom he had met at Neville's gran's dinner. They all seemed to look at the small snake and all seemed to disregard it as a threat, obviously not knowing what Smara is.

Harry gave out a stressed sigh and ran his hands through his hair, making it seem all the more unruly as he waited for the Wizengamot members to make it to their seats. As they walked in, everyone stood. He was already standing, but the entire gallery stood and waited.

When the purple-clad lords and ladies all stilled in front of a seat, a young witch dressed in blue came down from an outer aisle and stood next to the court scribe's desk. She tapped her wand to three different quills that sprang to life, poised to write, and then spoke clearly and with practiced authority.

"Attention, attention, we are now convening this session of the Wizengamot. Please remain standing as the Minister and Chief Warlock administer the opening oaths." She gestures wildly as the door opens and the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, walks in. Harry assumed this is where Dumbledore would normally make his grand entrance as well.

"Yes, ... yes, this is normally where our esteemed chief warlock would start this session, and I would act as a witness. But as our chief warlock is involved in this case, he has been recused. I call for an immediate vote to elect a temporary chief warlock and would like to nominate myself for the sake of expediency. Any other nominees, please stand."

It seemed that the Wizengamot was of a like mind to Fudge, as no one stood in nomination. So after a minute, Fudge once again approached the podium.

"Excellent! I accept the position of Chief Warlock. My undersecretary shall fill my role as witness. Come here, Dolores. Yes, good, good."

Now, as Chief Warlock, I open this session of the Wizengamot to hear the cases of Potter v. Dursley and Potter v. Dumbledore. Due to the connected nature of these cases, it has been determined to hold both hearings together.

Would all members of this body raise your right hands and repeat after me?" What followed was a very spaced out and drawn out oath promising to be open to the truth, to be attentive, and to judge without bias, that Harry only half listened to.

"All may be seated, and I believe it is time for opening statements." Fudge sat in the middle chair on the highest platform and, to Harry at least, seemed rather pleased with himself.

Harry and Ted didn't bother to sit down. Since he was the plaintiff, it was Ted who would make the first statement.

Ted cleared his throat. "Lords and ladies of this esteemed body, my name is Theodore Tonks. I have been through a roller coaster this past month since this young man sought me out. Through this hearing, I will impart to you the story of a boy. Not just any boy, but in my opinion at least, an extraordinary young man. A true-to-life Greek tragedy that would make Plato himself weep in his grave. A story of loss, loneliness, hunger, and every type of pain you can imagine. A story of abandonment.

This young man standing here has been failed so spectacularly by our society that I can only agree with his conclusion, which is to seek emancipation from all parental authority and to legally allow him to do what he has been doing since the age of four: raise and look after himself.

Ladies and lords of the Wizengamot, my client is seeking and asking for total emancipation from his Muggle and magical guardians. And I will endeavor to convince you just why this is necessary.

Ted gestured for Harry to sit, and the two sat together and, as one, turned to watch Dumbledore as the old man stood up slowly and gingerly, as one would expect from an ancient wizard.

"Lords and ladies," Dumbledore spoke slowly, making sure to turn periodically and face the entire body as he spoke. "My, it is a rare treat to be on this side of the gamut." He spoke serenely, as if he hadn't just been in this same position before this case started. The other lords and ladies didn't seem impressed.

"What we have here today is what happens when a child is given too much leeway. A loud and fraudulent tantrum thrown by a boy barely entering adolescence. A premature rebellion for a boy who has spent his entire life safely in a home in the Muggle world. Upon learning of the magical world, he decided to prove just how "special" he is. He plans on using his minor celebrity status to "free" himself from the constraints of oversight so he can run as wild as he wants without fear of reprimand. Will you be responsible for removing a young boy from his rightful blood guardians? Thank you for your time, lords and ladies."

Fudge stood and looked around the bright room at all the members of the Wizengamot and the people sat in the gallery waiting their turn. "Ladies and gentlemen, I think we must prepare ourselves for a long and arduous day. Mr. Tonks, you have brought with you a mountain of parchment into the courtroom for us. Why don't you start off and elucidate the contents of these folders and files?" Fudge looks down at the Muggle-born lawyer genially and with a friendly smile that Harry had seen on many politicians while Uncle Vernon had watched the news while he was cleaning the house around him.

"Thank you, Acting Chief Warlock. I have brought with me Harry's medical record from St. Mungo's. I requested it from Hogwarts as well but was denied a few days ago and did not have time for an appeal for ministerial intervention. I also brought with me six letters of sponsorship from the adults in Harry's life who know him best and support his bid for emancipation. Also, three proclamations of support from three Wizengamot members, one of which has the signatures of five other non-member ancient or noble houses. I have also brought, through much trouble and time to acquire them, both of the last wills and testaments of Harry's parents, Lord James Potter and Lady Lily Potter." At this, Dumbledore shot from his seat much faster than his earlier display of feebleness would indicate possible.

"I object!, Acting Chief Warlock. I know for a fact that the Ministry copies of those wills have been sealed until Harry himself reaches his majority and claims them himself." Dumbledore said this in a voice ringing with power and authority. It seemed to fill every space in the room.

Before Fudge could respond, Mr. Tonks stood and said very calmly, in great contrast to Dumbledore, "If you please, Acting Chief Warlock, I can explain why these copies would be allowed." After a nod of consent from Fudge and the other two next to him on the dias, Ted Tonks continued.

"My wife, Andromeda Tonks, was once Andromeda Black, a name I can see we are all familiar with. A long and storied name, but now it is only said in relation to the name "Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer and-" he pauses and looks at Harry with sad eyes. "And the man responsible for betraying the Potters to You-Know-Who. I have long heard stories from my wife about this man. Her troubled youth in the Black family matches his own, and they were both in our social circle, called "the white sheep of the Black family." In these stories, I heard just how close this man was to James Potter, and so after learning that Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot, and ex-Minister Bagnold had, by Ministry decree, sealed the "official" copies in the Ministry archives to all except an of-age Harry Potter, for his own protection, of course.

I took a chance. I petitioned Madam Bones of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to allow me a supervised visit with Lord Black inside Azkaban. And after a few days of pleading—"Mr. Tonks looked beside Fudge to Madam Bones, whom Harry recognized as a woman from Madam Longbottom's dinner."—she relented and sent me and a contingent of four Aurors to the island. Once there, they sat me in a chair and dragged in a creature I barely recognized as human. After I explained my visit, he was, I must say, quite happy to help. He wrote a note of permission and gave me a vial of his blood so the goblins could identify in the most secure way that Lord Black had given his permission for me to search the Black family vault and retrieve those copies you now hold, Acting Chief Warlock, still sealed with the Black family seal. Acquired by Sirius from the previous Lord Black, Arcturus, there are with me two pipettes that contain Lord Black's blood. I will hand these over when the court is ready to examine the wills.

"In the blue folders at the bottom of the pile are financial records from Gringotts that indicate Dumbledore has been stealing from the Potter family for at least the past twelve years."

More than a few heads turned scornfully toward Dumbledore at that last quick pronouncement, as Mr. Tonks sat back down, smirking.

After collecting himself, Fudge looked over at Dumbledore and, seemingly trying to keep any air of derision from his voice, said through a tight smile, "And, Mr. Dumbledore, could you please also elucidate your own—" gesturing with a waving hand at the two folders and thin scroll that sat on his desk "—evidence?"

At this, Dumbledore swooped from his chair, in which he had sat back down once Ted had begun speaking again.

"Yes, Acting Chief Warlock, I have brought no less than ten letters—five from child development experts—decrying a child so young living on his own. I have also brought Harry's school and incident record from the Office of Accidental Magical Catastrophes and the Misuse of Magic Office, as well as his Hogwarts medical file." (indicating the scroll)

"Very well, Mr. Tonks, why don't you begin?" Fudge said without standing.

"Very well, Acting Chief Warlock, to begin, I'd like to call Harry Potter to stand before the Wizengamot." A chair appeared in the center of the room between the two tables and the Wizengamot. Harry slowly stood and, looking to Ted for confirmation, at a nod, he walked slowly to the chair before sitting down.

"Mr. Potter, can you tell us your name, please?"

"Harry Potter, sir."

"And how old are you, for the record?"

"I just turned 12, sir, a few days ago."

"Good, good. Now, Harry, can you recount the events that led you to contact me?"

"Err... yes. You see, I had been at the Dursley house for-"

"The Dursley house? Not home? Not my house? You refer to the building as the Dursley house?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very well, continue, Harry. I apologize."

"Well, er, like I said, I had been back at the Dursleys' house for a few weeks at that point, back from my first year at Hogwarts. And, well, my uncle and I do our best to avoid being near each other. But that day in mid-July, both our tempers boiled over. I had been in the garden all day, weeding, hoeing, and sowing my aunt's summer flower bed, repainting the fence, the garden bench, seeding the greenhouse, and cleaning the algae out of the fountain bird bath. And Vernon comes home from work and starts tearing my day's work apart like he could do everything five times better and three times faster, and why couldn't I have gotten my room, Dudley's room, the kitchen cleaned and organized, and the cupboard under the stairs? I had told him that if he thinks he can do better, he can do it next time, and I'll sit my fat behind on the couch, stuffing cakes and creams into my gob by the pound. That might have been rude, but at the time I was hot, tired, and angry, and I didn't care. Still don't, actually. It's true."

"Suffice it to say, your relatives and you do not get on well."

"That's putting it mildly, sir. My aunt and I, in the last few months, have come to an understanding. But my uncle and my cousin would, I'm sure, like to see me dead if it meant they could be rid of me without going to jail themselves. He's tried a few times over the years, mind you."

"So, your uncle comes home in a bad mood and starts to verbally attack you. How long does this go on for?"

"Hours, Vernon works from eight until four, and our actual fight didn't happen until closer to ten."

"So, let's jump forward from there. He's verbally abusive all day, and then what happens?"

"Well, like I said, I got a little shirty with him, and he swung and hit me square in the jaw. I went to hit him back, but Smara reacted to the physical violence and lashed out."

"And Smara is?"

Harry gestures behind him toward the table. "My familiar. She's a basilisk that I met while at Hogwarts." At this, Smara allows her size to increase noticeably and bows her head, and the Wizengamot members subsequently begin to freak out until Harry speaks again. "But don't worry, she knows not to look at anyone and has inner eyelids that filter the death or even petrification from her eyes." At this, Mr. Tonks himself walks up to Smaragain now 8 feet in length—and stares into her eyes for all to see.

"We would like to draw attention to the top form on your pile. Those are copies of Mr. Potter's Dangerous Beast Registry and Familiar Tag. Anyway, Harry, please continue."

"Well, like I said, Smara lashed out. I tried to get her to stop, but to her, I'm her familiar, not the other way around, and she doesn't always listen to me. So, she petrified my uncle so he wouldn't attack me again. Then, I ran and grabbed the keys from my uncle and went and got my wand from the cupboard under the stairs."

"Your relatives had your wand locked up?"

"Not just my wand, but all my school things. They hate magic, so the day I got back, they locked it up."

"The day you got back?"

"Yes, sir. My relatives weren't at King's Cross to pick me up, so I had to walk. I never would have made it if my trunk didn't have a built-in featherlight charm on it. It's a 10-hour walk from London to Privet Drive. Tack on time to beg a map off a store owner, figuring out how to read the map, and time to navigate and correct my course because I made some mistakes. Also, even with a featherlight charm, carrying a Hogwarts trunk across the country is tiring and awkward. It took me almost 20 hours just to get to their house."

"Why didn't you take a bus, train, or taxi?"

"I didn't have any pounds on me, no Muggle money."

"Did you have a few sickles on you?"

"Yes, sir."

"So why didn't you call the Knight Bus?"

"I didn't know it existed, sir. I know next to nothing about the magical world, and aside from how to get into Diagon Alley, nothing was explained to me when Dumbledore sent Hagrid to give me my Hogwarts ticket and take me shopping for my school things."

This got a few more nasty looks sent Dumbledore's way, who visibly quelled and cringed at the looks directed at him. Ted continued. "So, you retrieved your wand. What did you do then?"

"Oh, I just started firing random spells into the back garden of the Dursleys' house. I know that if I did, some adult from the Ministry would come, and he could get some help for my uncle."

"Help? Why would you help him? Harry, the man was abusive toward you, hitting you not a minute before, and you go breaking wizarding law just so you can get ahold of someone.

And come to think of it, why didn't you use the patrol alert spell? I hadn't thought to ask you that before."

"The what, sir?" Harry looked genuinely confused, and this derailed the entire hearing.

At the every adult in the room slowly swung their head to face Dumbledore before Minister Fudge stood up. "Mister Potter, we here at the Ministry are aware that magical emergencies can happen even in a Muggle house. There exists a spell, a spell that is taught to all wizarding children at least at eleven, but is often times taught as soon as they can talk. The spell is "Pacis Costodes" or peace keepers. It sends out a ping of who and location for the magical law enforcement patrol to apparate to. This is basic information that all children in our world are to be aware of." He turns to the gallery and spots Hermione. "You, girl, were you aware of this spell?"

"Yes, sir," said Hermione.

"And how did you come across this knowledge?" asked Minister Fudge's Undersecretary, sitting to his left.

"Professor McGonagall told me when she delivered my letter that it was her duty as my magical guardian."

At that, Fudge turned back to Albus, almost seething.

"Speaking as Minister of Magic, I want all incidents of underage magic stricken from Mr. Potter's record from this moment on."

Now, I believe we have derailed this hearing long enough. Please continue, Mr. Tonks.

"Yes, Minister," said Ted, bowing.

"Please continue, Harry. You fired spells off."

"Yes, err...well, a man showed up. I'm sorry, I'm having trouble remembering his name. He was an abbot, though."

"Martin Abbott?" interjected the lawyer.

"Yes, him. He surveyed the situation for a second, scanned my uncle, asked me what happened, and poured a potion, the 'Mandrake Restorative Draught,' into my uncle's mouth. He unfroze almost immediately. After that, my aunt sent me to bed, and the next day we went to the Ministry and talked to Wizarding Child Services and the Muggle Liaison Office. After a few scans and telling them what we wanted, we were directed toward your office, Phisk Tonks Law Wizards."

"Upon meeting me, what did you do?"

"I told you all this, plus more, about my year at Hogwarts and Dumbledore seizing my mail, using his magical guardianship to set up an apparent mail ward.

"And that brings me to the first two pieces of parchment I would like the Wizengamot to examine."

"The first, marked with a purple tag to match the Wizengamot's regal attire, is a sworn statement from Petunia and Vernon Dursley detailing not only their, let's say, distrust of magic (pertinent points highlighted in orange) and both adults' assurance in their beliefs that emancipation for Harry is not only a good outcome but necessary to preserve who Harry is as a person (pertinent points highlighted in blue). The second is Harry's medical records and full medical history after Mrs. Petunia Dursley and I rushed Harry to St. Mungo's for an OPCEC scan after he related that his familiar was using her kind's mysterious abilities to counteract mind magics." Ted stops there and allows the purple-clad lords and ladies to read the papers before starting again.

"In the medical records, you will see the full and sad life story of Harry James Potter. Malnutrition. Starvation. Poorly healed broken bones. Organ scarring. Defensive scarring. Lashes from a belt across his back. And worst of all, magic untraceable, long-placed compulsions, and directive charms not used since the Imperius and all prerequisite spells were forbidden. Illegal charms placed on a boy so that he wouldn't fight, wouldn't run away, would be meek and accept that his life was worthless and he deserved to be beaten. Spells that would make him loyal and subservient to the caster.

On top of that, more recent potions: the forgetfulness draught, the memory-building potion, loyalty potions so that he would be loyal to the brewer, but the potions were charmed so that the key was destroyed as soon as a scanning charm was used.All potions in his system were detailed to have been administered during his time at Hogwarts. And that's only the most noticeable and detectable. There were countless charms and enchantments laid on the boy that the OPCEC couldn't identify, but when purged, left Harry unconscious for nearly an HOUR! Charms and potions dating back nearly a DECADE that only ceased to function when this glorious creature's venom entered Harry's bloodstream and formed a familiar bond. Even after that, it took until the summer holidays to fully clear away any active vestiges of magic. I am not one to levy accusations against anyone without proper evidence, but there has been only one wizard who has had access to Harry since he was barely 15 months old, aside from one or two of us running into him in a crowded street.

This, lords and ladies, is why we are seeking total emancipation for Mr. Potter. Every adult in the magical world has failed Harry for the last twelve years that these conditions were allowed to continue simply because the Chief Warlock patted us on our heads and said everything was peaches and sunshine with regards to Mr. Potter. Not only that, putting him with a family that will treat him like a princeling and ruin the wonderful young man he is—the simple fact is no adult in the magical world has earned the right to have him. We are all failures." With that, Ted sat down, indicating that he was finished with his questions for now. He was breathing heavily, most likely out of pure irritation. The entire room was silent as Dumbledore slowly stood to speak, yet he remained silent. He stood looking at the Dursleys with almost shocked eyes.

'What's wrong? Get a move on, Dumbledore. Fudge spouted from Dumbledore's normal seat.

"Yes... Harry, perhaps you could tell the court the events of the second of June? If you're shaky on the details, I can recount them."

"No, Headmaster, I remember. It started my first night at-"

"just the night of june the second please harry."

"but thats horrifically out of cont-"

"If you will not, then I will, lords and ladies. On the night of the second of June, young Harry here was found deep inside a forbidden and locked corridor where I was holding a certain powerful magical object for a dear friend. I found him there in possession of said magical artifacts, surrounded by the cremated remains of a teacher. This matter is now currently under investigation by the DMLE, and by all reports given to my office as Chief Warlock and the Headmaster, it appears that young Mister Potter somehow deduced what I was holding and succumbed to the allure of the riches and power it guarantees any who wields it. He flouted dozens of school rules, destroyed four magical artifacts, and killed two beings: one teacher and one security troll I had hired to assist in guarding the area, all to steal and abscond with my friend's treasure. That is just a taste of the attitude Mr. Potter has displayed towards the rule of law. He thinks himself above it, and it is only with my firm hand that will keep him in check until he has learned to behave properly. Lords and ladies, Mr. Potter needs to be reined in and put in check so that he can learn how to behave."

I admit I grossly overestimated the Dursleys' ability to care for Mr. Potter and teach him the correct life lessons. It appears that all young Harry has learned at the knee of Muggles is not humility and caring, as I had hoped, but deceit, stealth, and manipulation. I took a step back and away from Harry, leaving him with his blood relatives, but once we are finished here today, I shall take him back to Hogwarts, and he will be taught at and over MY knee. Towards the end of the old man's speech, his voice had faltered. Gone were the grandfatherly tones, and in their place was the sharp bite of a viper—at least to Harry's thoughts. He was starting to get worried again, but I looked at Ted, who was still smirking, if not even more widely than before, before standing up.

""I'd like permission to address the stand, please, Chief Warlock."

"Oh, hmmm, yes, it's irregular but not disallowed. Please continue, but make it fast, please.""Thank you, Chief Warlock. Harry, would you say that the Headmaster's recollections are accurate?""In spirit, yes, but not the facts.""What do you mean, 'the facts'?"

"Everything he said is true, but not accurate. I have already given my memories of that night and given them to the DMLE, to Madam Bones herself."

"I was out of bed that night, and I did go down that forbidden corridor, but before I did that, I tried everything I could to get an adult to help me and my friend, Hermione Granger. We figured out what was down that corridor early on in the year, just after Christmas, actually, from talking with Hagrid, who is not very good at keeping secrets. It just took one mistakenly dropped name for us to work it out. And before that, a little before Halloween (and I admit I wander around the school at night), I got lost and found myself between a locked door and Argus Filch. There are tons of locked doors in Hogwarts, and a simple unlocking charm is all it took to get behind that one. Well, a Cerberus was there. So we knew where the forbidden corridor was, and we avoided it like the plague after that. Then, on the night in question, we had finally worked out that someone in the school, a teacher, was trying to steal the artifact after Hagrid told us about meeting a stranger in the pub in Hogsmeade and discussing "Fluffy," the Cerberus. So we ran." We ran straight to Professor McGonagall, asking to see Dumbledore to warn him. But she said that Dumbledore had left, that he had received an alert from the Minister, and he rushed off. Only he decided to fly a BROOM to London instead of Flooing straight there like anyone would do in a real emergency. Dumbledore's head had snapped straight to Harry, a twinkle in his eye gone, face wide in disbelief. And he looked over at Samira, who was staring straight at him.

Harry continued through this interaction, unable to see it. "Well, I threw caution to the wind and told her what we figured out, what was happening, and that we suspected our Defense teacher, Quirrell. But she brushed us off, so we did what we had to. We went to that corridor, played music to put Fluffy to sleep, used a Solar Light spell to get through Devil's Snare, used my skills as a Seeker to catch a Daedalion key and unlock a door. Our friend Ron played us through a giant wizard's chess set, sacrificing himself so that we would win. (He was bandaged up afterward, a few pinches of Skelegro, and he was fine again.) The troll we didn't even fight; the poor thing was thrown against a far wall with its head removed. I'm a powerful wizard for my age, but I'm still a first-year; I can't do stuff like that! Finally, Hermione solved a logic puzzle from our potions teacher, Snape; she couldn't follow me through; there was only enough potion for one, and it didn't refill after I drank it. But Smara was with me, shrunk down, so she slid off my shoulders and climbed through a pipe, and I went through the flame. When I came out, I saw him standing in front of a mirror, muttering to himself. The mirror is another magical artifact, the Mirror of Erised. Well, he had me in robes pretty much instantly, and he eventually got the idea to use me to get the stone for him. So he did, and I did; it somehow found its way to my pocket. And that's when he started to choke me. The last flash of sensation I have was Smara leaping at him from high up on the wall, growing before her mouth made impact, and carrying them both away. His arm was turning black from the bite and spreading quickly. He used his wand then and cast some spell at me. It destroyed my lungs according to Madame Pomfrey. It's probably in those files Dumbledore gave you. I don't remember anything after a few seconds of that spell's impact before I woke up in the hospital wing three days later, and she kept me until the end of term. These are the facts that Dumbledore missed, and judging by his face there, I don't think he expected me to remember any of told you, Dumbledore. All spells and memory charms were erased. If they were recent enough, I remember everything, but the older memories were damaged beyond recall, just blurs now..

"Thank you, Harry, for clarifying the Chief Warlock's story. And as a point of order, I'll direct you to the third scroll in the bin with the yellow and black ribbon. That is a directive from the DMLE that arrived just this morning, clearing my client of all wrongdoing in the death of Quirinus Quirrell. The Wizengamot moved as one to unfurl the aforementioned scroll and quickly read it, except for Madam Bones—after all, she had written it.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter. You may take your seat again," said Fudge from his high chair. Harry stood and bowed to the Wizengamot before returning to the table next to his solicitor."If it pleases the Wizengamot, I would like to discuss a point that Mr. Dumbledore brought up and is a noted requirement to obtain emancipation in already established procedures: Harry's school record."

"Yes, a fine way to proceed. You have the floor, Mr. Tonks."

The man bows to the dais before continuing."One's school record is vastly important for how N.E.W.T.s affect the very careers open to us in our world. The grades one receives are powerful indicators of one's ability to self-govern and a future ability to take care of your needs as an adult. After all, how can you have a job and have money to care for yourself if you don't have the required scores?

Yet, in Mr. Potter's case, I would argue that these scores, while still important, are not indicators of one's future ability to provide a stable living. After all, we have only one year of grades to determine anything, and like any Muggle-born, they vary wildly through his first year as new concepts are introduced. But like any ancient and noble family, Harry's ability to provide is not predicated on his ability to earn a career. I will not say the exact numbers that I was able to get from Gringotts, but the Potter family fortune alone contains enough wealth that Harry and Harry's future children in perpetuity would never have to work a day in their lives and still buy whatever could possibly catch their fancy. The business partnerships and investments in the Muggle side of things bring in several million pounds a year. Converted to the galleon, it is over sixty thousand galleons a year—more than the income of fifty average families' yearly income combined. His trust vault alone has a standard of five thousand galleons in it for a given year of spending, which is four average families' yearly income. Suffice it to say, my lords and ladies, that even if Mr. Potter were to get a troll in every single owl, he would still be able to live a life worth living. But despite him knowing that every indication shows he will have a strong academic record, he and his friend, Muggle-born Hermione Granger, have been jockeying back and forth for the top spot in their year since Halloween. I ask, does my client's academic record and family wealth prove an ability to care for himself? I ask for an immediate vote on this issue so that it is cleared from our worry today.

Dumbledore was about to say something, but Fudge cut across him."I quite agree. These issues are not worth hearing arguments on. Please raise your wand if you are in agreement that Harry James Potter's educational record and available family wealth indicate that if emancipated, he can take care of and provide a suitable living for himself."Sixty-three wands raised. That vote at least was unanimous. Harry sighed in relief."As acting Chief Warlock, I call this hearing in recess. Please be back here in exactly one hour and thirty minutes."

Standing to follow Ted out of the room through the little hidden door they had entered through, he saw a clock on the wall he had missed and was shocked to see that it was one in the afternoon. Somehow, three whole hours had slipped by. He hurried to follow Ted and their Auror escort to find lunch and Andromeda and Hermione waiting for them in the hidden room.

Chapter Text

Harry sat and stared blankly after the recess had ended. The Wizengamot came back into session and gave Dumbledore the floor. Harry hadn't really listened that much. He had started to disassociate, lost or blocked-out memories flaring behind his eyes. He watched Quirrell's body burn from the inside as it was attacked by the basilisk venom. He didn't understand what could have caused the burning though; venom didn't do that, even magical venom. He wondered if it was the unicorn blood Quirrell had been consuming that had reacted with the venom to create that demonic fire that ate away at Quirrell in such a way. Harry wasn't sure; the more the memory played in his head, the more it didn't make sense. (SMACK!) His head shot forward, and his senses flared back to reality. He looked around, seeing Dumbledore looking at him, Ted Tonks looking at him, and the Wizengamot (yup) also looking at him. He looked over at the serpent sitting on the desk, her tail still raised like a bludgeon. "That hurt," Harry hissed out in Parseltongue before looking up and addressing the Wizengamot.

"Err, I'm sorry, I was deep in thought there. What was the question?" asked Harry sheepishly. Dumbledore spoke up.

"I asked Mr. Potter if your life at Privet Drive was so bad, why did you never seek to leave, run away, or report your abusers?"

"Err, I..." Harry shook his head to clear it and took a drink of water. "I did. On my 9th birthday, I ran away from the Dursleys, but the local policemen brought me home. Vernon spread lies about me being an unconstrained nutjob around the neighborhood, so no one came near me. I didn't have a doctor to visit or complain to. No policemen would believe me, and when I tried to get my teachers involved, they would mysteriously, suddenly have to quit or move. After the second time, I just stopped and accepted my fate. Mr. Tonks, what did the OPSEC scan say again?"

At this, Ted got a piece of paper, put it down, and began to read. "Patient has been subject to 'Acceptance' potions, an ancient potion used before the ban on all controller magics. Levels suggest dosing going back at least five years. The pertinent bullet point is listed as number '6. A' on the St. Mungo's transcripts. Because of these potions and at the levels displayed, even after months of them not being administered, they still had sufficient strength that Harry put up with his uncle's abuses for almost a month. Does that answer your question, Dumbledore, or do I need to break down how the mind of a child would not normally go to 'leave the only relatives and house I have ever known?" Dumbledore looked abashed at that. The old man had obviously not expected Harry or whatever lawyer he had hired to do as much to prepare as much as they had. "No, that answers all my questions quite succinctly, Mr. Tonks. I'll rest for now," Dumbledore said as he sat back down.

Ted Tonks stood and said, "I call mister and missus Dursley to question." With that, both of Harry's relatives stood and walked to the center of the room. "Tell us your side of this, missus Dursley. We have heard the facts of Harry's time with you. Tell us how it was from your perspective."

Finally, the woman who had been oddly silent through Ted expounding on the various abuses Harry had suffered spoke. Harry had thought she'd defend herself long before now. "We woke up on November 2, 1981, to find little Harry on our front porch with nothing but a blanket and a note. A note that told me my sister, Lily, had been killed. I had been broken that day. My sister, my last remaining blood relative aside from my own son, was dead. I cared for Harry as any person would for the next two years, and that's when the oddness began, doors unlocking, toys flying through the air. It wasn't until Vernon had angered Harry by denying him a cake that Dudley, our son, had wanted. That we had awoken to the dangers of magic, not even my sister, smart and powerfully magical as she was, had scared me that badly. Harry had sent every knife in our kitchen into the wall behind Vernon. That was the first time Vernon resorted to corporal punishment; he spanked Harry so hard and for so long he had bruised the boy quite severely, and he ran back to his room. "His cupboard, you mean," Mr. Tonks interrupted. Petunia seemed to hesitate, not wanting to admit it out loud, but she continued, her eyes downcast and tears streaming down her face. "Yes. Yes. His cupboard, he ran there and hid from us, crying for hours. We left; my husband was still apoplectic with rage, and I drug him and our son out to calm him down. When we got back, he was silent, asleep when I checked on him. He didn't cause any more trouble for years after that. He was distant and quiet, and we were too harsh on him I don't know why or what came over us, but we were, I see that now. I see what we did; how we acted was wrong. We spoiled our own son to assuage our guilt and ignored the trouble that caused for both kids. When he turned eight, it seemed his body could no longer contain his magic, and that's when" but Petunia seemed to freeze here her voice losing all personality. At this point, the entire room went still, entirely focused on the woman as her face lost expression and her voice dropped into a monotone. "We took matters into our own hands. Our harsh punishments worked before, and they would again. It's our job as guardians to beat the wrongdoings out of him, and that's what we did." and then she seemed to blink and flutter and co0me back to herself. the entire room was silent. Looking at the woman and man who had still not spoken either, Ted looked at the two and then at Dumbledore, who seemed to be going pale. He raised his wand at Dumbledore, the most powerful wizard in the last hundred years, as did a full two-thirds of the Wizengamot.

"Fawkes!" the old man yelled, and a bright, flaming bird appeared above his head. He grabbed onto the phoenix's talons and cast an Acio at Harry, who flung toward Dumbledore. But Ted, Petunia, and Vernon all raced forward and caught him. Spells rained in from the gallery and the stands of the Wizengamot, and Dumbledore blocked them all with a golden bubble and, with another burst of fire, was gone. It took a full ten minutes for the Wizengamot chambers to come out of complete lockdown, and a full 30 minutes more for Fudge and Madam Bones to get control of the Wizengamot so that they could speak freely. "In light of what has just occurred, I feel that we must reconvene this hearing at another date. There's a manhunt that needs attending to. Fudge was speaking until being interrupted.

"No!" said Harry. "Sir, Minister, please. Can we not continue this and wrap it up today? We are here. My lawyer is ready. The witnesses are ready, and the testimonials are prepared. Please. We only have the testimonials and support pledges to go, and then the Wizengamot can make its decision. It shouldn't take more than an hour!"

Fudge sighed. "We will put it to a vote, then. All in favor of finishing this hearing today, raise your wands." To Harry's shock, it wasn't just Mr. Greengrass, Madam Bones, and Madam Longbottom who raised their wands, but almost all of the Wizengamot raised them in favor all but fifteen or so, by Harry's count. "Very well, then. We will take a 10-minute break." "Amelia, I want a total lockdown of Dumbledore's resources. And someone can work on the Mug- on the Dursleys while we wait." At that, Andromeda stood up and approached the Dursleys, whispering before the two adults clenched their eyes shut as if preparing for a bomb. She started quietly and gently casting various spells that Harry couldn't hear. It was 15 minutes later when Madame Bones came back into the room. Andromeda was finished. The two Dursleys sat drinking strong tea that had been brought to them. Andy had brought two scrolls over to Madame Bones and the Minister, who read them quickly before tucking them away. "Well then, let's begin again unless anyone else would like to come out as a dark wizard and attack us? No? Well then, good, let's begin."

"I see, Mr. Potter, you have managed to acquire letters of support from four of your teachers from your first year at Hogwarts. We of the Wizengamot will read the two absentees, but we will let the two in attendance relate to us why they support your emancipation. Professors McGonagall and Snape, please come forward and address the assembly." And with a huge jump, Harry turned back just in time to see the greasy-haired pillock that called himself a professor start to walk and stand before the assembled lords and ladies. "Well then, we'll start with the one who would know him best. I believe the head of the lad's house could speak to the lad's character. So why don't you proceed, Professor McGonagall?"

his head of house stood and collected her thoughts for a moment before speaking. "I have been teaching young witches and wizards for more than 50 years. In this chamber I see many an old student or classmates from when I myself was a student. I can count on one hand the amount of children that have come through my life that I knew without a doubt could look after themselves. But no one stands in that small group in front of Mr. Potter. In his short time at Hogwarts, I have seen him learn and listen, fight for his beliefs, defend the defenseless, and help all who come before him, even if they don't ask for his help, even if helping will land him in a load of trouble. He is a fantastic student when he applies himself and competitive enough to always apply himself to be the best because he is always in competition with his good friend, Miss Granger, who is number two on that list I mentioned Earlier, if he is granted emancipation, I have zero doubt that any of us will come to regret it. It has been far too long since Wizarding Britain has had a proper Lord Potter," McGonagall said this with the sincere, stern and regal poise that Harry had come to expect from her, before standing to the side and letting Snape take her spot in the center. With a gesture of Fudge's hand,

Snape seemed to still and center himself before speaking as well. "On September fifth of last year, the first day Harry Potter walked into my potions lab, I saw nothing special; an unremarkable boy with no extraordinary magical power. I saw what I wanted to see, an arrogant, spoiled child who felt the rules, laws, and classes were beneath him. And I hated him for it. But as the year progressed, my view changed. I saw an intelligent and insightful young man whose passions lay outside the potions class but did not detract from his skill inside it." At this, he pulled a bright blue vial out of his robes and another potion that was a deep-sea green. This green one is a sample of Mr. Potter's first attempt at potions ever. His first class: a potion to cure boils, the first potion any student makes in my class so that I can judge an individual's skill level and aptitude. The first day, first potion. It was perfect, one of two perfect potions that day. The best two first attempts in my twelve years of teaching. This second vial was the potion that I set for Mr. Potter for his end-of-year test. I told him it was a first-year potion. It is not. This is a Blabbering Beverage, a fairly useless potion that makes the drinker unable to form coherent words. It is a potion I have my second years brew for a midterm. It is, once again, perfect and well beyond his age level's usual skill. His sharp and intuitive mind is that of his mother's, even if he shares an unfortunate resemblance to his father. I have no doubt that Mr. Potter could not cause himself or the community irreparable harm in the two months he is out of school, and so I must also endorse his emancipation. It is what his parents would want; they did not like Petunia. Would Lily be happy with what has happened to her son?" And with that, Snape walked back, glowering, to the back of the gallery without being dismissed.

"There is also a letter of support here from Petunia Dursley. I thank you, Solicitor Tonks, for highlighting the important points in these letters. Mrs. Dursley, I am not going to allow this letter of support to affect the decisions of this hearing. You are obviously biased, no matter how heartfelt your current motivation. Your prior behavior indicates that you simply want the boy out of your house no matter what, and I will tell you I will not allow him back in your house after what we have seen, read, and heard here today. Whether your actions are your own or were influenced by another, your house is not safe for children to grow in. So, as acting Chief Warlock, I deny the evidence of testimony by Petunia Dursley."

Madam Bones spoke up then. "The letters from his other professors speak of the same sentiments given by Mr. Snape and Mrs. McGonagall. All speak very favorably of the young man. I think we can move on to any Wizengamot sponsorship of this request. If you'd allow, I could begin."

"Yes, Amelia, that sounds fine. Go ahead," said Fudge.

Madame Bones stood them from her chair. "I'm afraid, lords and ladies, that I barely know Mr. Potter. I have met him a few times performing my duty as Head of the DMLE and once as a guest of the Longbottom's as she held a dinner in hopes that the boy could curry a bit of favor for this hearing. Like his professors, I have had a very positive outlook on Mr. Potter. He seems to have a good head on his shoulders, and I believe, like Mr. Snape, that he would not get into any irreparable trouble in the two or three months a year he is away from school and adult supervision."

Mr. Greengrass stands up as Madame Bones sits down and begins to speak as well. "I, like Amelia, am little more than a stranger to Mr. Potter. In fact, I've only had one dinner conversation with him, but it was I he reached out to for support for this hearing, and I should say he found it. I am speaking today on behalf of a coalition of business associates both within his body and without. In past generations, the Potter family had been an economic powerhouse. Still, to this day, there are ingredient suppliers that have a majority contract with the Potter family potion business, and while it is no longer in operation, it is still around, if only in legal form. Without a Lord Potter to realize or release these contracts, prices on potion ingredients in the British Isles have been painfully high since the end of the last war. Not to mention the Potter family potion business itself, which served as a faithful apothecary for centuries, and the fresh potion ingredients and magical animals cultivated by various families on Potter land that have not been available for a little over twenty years since the death of Lord Charlus Potter sent the old Potter Manor house into total lockdown. Granting Mr. Potter his emancipation will grant him access to his lordship, which will allow the various businesses and families to flourish like they haven't in nearly a generation. It will be a great boon to the economy." With that, Cyrus Green sat down and clasped his hands in front of himself.

"Are there any who wish to speak against this notion? asked the minister.

"I do," said Madame Marchbanks. "Normally I wouldn't give two rotten pence how old a child is nor what emancipation would do for the economy. Children should live with adults, children should live with family, and he has family in the Tonks. But, I quite agree, Mr. Potter here is more mature than a third of this body, so I'll hold my tongue on the matter going forward."

"Right, well then," said Fudge, seeming not to know how to take that little speech. "All that's left of the evidence, I believe, is the will that Mr. Tonks turned in. If you could provide the blood for the seal's solicitor? As Ted walked to the dais and put a drop of blood each onto the seals, they dissolved, giving off a large amount of black smoke that formed the crest of House Black, which Fudge waved his hands through, fanning it away. "You know, I really do not miss working with the Blacks and their thrice-blasted theatrics!" This caused most of the gathered lords and ladies to snicker.

"Now, let's see here. I'll refrain from reading this entirely out loud, no point in-oh my! Oh MY, DEAR ME!"

"IN THE EVENT OF MY DEATH, HARRY IS TO BE RAISED BY ONE OF THE FOLLOWING IN ORDER OF PRECEDENCE.
1. ALICE LONGBOTTOM- OATH-SWORN GOD MOTHER
2. SIRIUS BLACK: OATH-SWORN GODFATHER
3. REMUS LUPIN. DEAR FAMILY FRIEND AND PROTECTORATE OF HOUSE POTTER
4. MINERVA MCGONAGAL DEAR FAMILY FRIEND IF NON-OF THESE PEOPLE ARE AVAILABLE BECUASE OF THE WAR OR OTHER REASONS THAN HARRY IS TO BE PLACED IN THE CARE OF THE LOVEGOOD FAMILY OR FAILING THAT MAGICAL FOSTERCARE. UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES IS HARRY TO BE GIVEN TO MY SISTER PETUNIA DURSLEY OR HER HUSBAND OR ANY OTHER MEMEBER OF HER FAMILY."

"The witnesses of this document are signed: Albus Dumbledore, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettigrew." That got the Wizengamot chatting, and they sat back, oath sworn. "This document was sealed by Dumbledore, and he knew that it listed Black as oath sworn. Dear me, this is going to be a nightmare," Fudge could be heard saying, even over the crowd of lords and ladies talking.

"Ted? What does that mean? Oath sworn."

"It means, Harry, that Sirius Black, who has been in Azkaban for betraying your family and killing a group of innocent Muggles, for trying to kill the other witness, Peter Pettigrew. is undeniably innocent. If he had done ANYTHING that could even loosely be interpreted as betraying you, he would have died instantly." Ted looked up and looked to the gallery. Harry thought to meet eyes with Andromeda.

"Well, I, oh my, what a revelation, my word is. Is there anyone else that wishes to speak for or against Mr. Potter's bid? No? Well, then I say we call a vote and end this hearing before anything else earth-shattering happens. Please raise your wands if you vote to give Harry James Potter his complete emancipation."

"Forty-five to eighteen, motion carries. Congratulations, Mister, or should I say Lord Potter, you are a legal and recognized adult. Stop by the Misuse of Magic Office and have the Trace removed from your wand. I recommend you go to Gringotts as soon as possible and retrieve your Lord's ring." Fudge banged the gavel, standing immediately and flowing out of the room, giving orders to Amelia the whole while. "Go get Black out of there, search the records for his trial transcript, get me an update on Dumbledore and more," but he was leaving the range of Harry's hearing. For his part, Harry stood there frozen, his eyes open but unseeing. He was free. Free, no more Dursleys, no more secrets, no more lies, no more abuse, no more anything he didn't want in his life. What did he want in his life, a thought that he had never asked himself before? And then suddenly his vision was filled with the one thing he was absolutely certain he wanted around: Hermione. She had jumped on him and wrapped him in a tight hug.

"Ohhhhh, Harryyyyyyyyy, congratulations! I knew you'd get it, I just knew it, especially after Dumbledore ran off like that." And then she gasped, having remembered. "Oh my, he tried to kidnap you, didn't he? He used a Summoning Charm to try to bring you to him and then Flash out, and oh my god, Harry, what would have happened if-" Harry cut her off by giving her a bear hug, the first hug he had ever initiated.

"Give it a rest, Hermione, or your head will explode from a lack of oxygen. Yes, he did, but no, he didn't. I'm fine. We're all fine. And I can get any type of protection I want against him from now on. And-"

"Excuse me, Harry. May I be on my way?" asked Ted. "It's just that another client will be in need of legal services within the hour, and I need to get to him. I can't believe I'm finally saying this, but I will invoice you for your bill now that we've won your case. But I must be going now." He points at Andromeda and pushes him in that direction before almost running off.

Harry felt Smarra climb his arm and drape herself over his shoulder before shrinking down somewhat and settling there for travel. Andromeda was laughing at her husband when they arrived. He ran into the door, trying to push a pull door out of his way. "Well, Harry, what should we do now?"

"I suppose we should go and get my trace removed. Then, when does Gringotts close?" Harry said, still in awe that he was free. "Where are the Dursleys? I'd like to say goodbye." Andromeda sniffed. "For you, I doubt Gringotts closes at all. And they were remanded back to Ministry custody. You seem to forget they were arrested, Harry, not summoned. Arrested. Her husband's arrest for attempted murder and her former abuse of a minor... I know you didn't want them brought up on charges, but that is out of your control. Give it a few days for processing and intake. It takes a minute, but in a few days, we can come back, and I'm sure you'll be allowed to speak to them, to her at least. Come now; we have a lot to do and a short time to do it in. With that, Andromeda led Harry, arm in arm with Hermione, and the Granger parents bringing up the rear, through the doors of the conference room and through the throng of reporters littering the Ministry corridor and to a lift where, finally, the rest of the world dropped away for a short time, and Harry finally felt he could breathe. He closed his eyes, enjoying the quiet as the lift rattled down to the atrium. It was only 30 minutes later that Harry and Party left the Ministry through the visitors' exit, an abandoned metro station just a block from Diagon Alley. A short trip through the alley to Gringotts. On their approach, two goblins dressed in shining armor clapped fist to breast and called out.

"Hold, humans! Gringotts is closed to all regular visitors. Please come back tomorrow."

"Are you sure I can't pop in for just a minute?" said Harry, holding up a piece of paper the court scribe had given him. "I have a court mandate from the Wizengamot here to retrieve my family ring."

"Family ring? Most of you humans look the same to me, but still, you look on the young side, human—much too young to be head of the family."

"I was just emancipated today, and I am the last of my family line. I am h-"

"We know who you are, Mr. Potter. Please enter. I was awaiting you." A finely dressed goblin stepped out of the bank and addressed Harry directly. "You may enter, Lord Potter, but your party must wait here for banking hours if they have any business."

"No, sir, they're just escorting me."

"Good, then follow me. Dipsnout, good work. Please keep Lord Potter's party company while they wait." With that, the goblin and Harry disappeared into Gringotts. And they walked together in silence through the nearly empty bank. There were, Harry thought at first, young goblins polishing the marble floors to a mirror finish by hand. But a different thought soon entered Harry's mind when he noticed the state of most of the polishers they passed and the strange, tatty blue uniforms.

"Sir, are the goblins polishing the floor prisoners?"

"A sharp-eye Lord Potter, yes, our criminals have two options if their sentence is light enough, that is. The first option is the mines. The second option for those too young or too old or who have exemplary behavior is to polish the stone here at our bank. It is a sought-after job, as prisoners in the mines are not treated... well." A sharp grin from the sharply dressed goblin made a tingle run down Harry's spine; he sensed danger in that smile. As they came to a stop in front of a door, the goblin then stuck out his hand. "My English name is Bludrock, Mr. Potter," indicating the words on the door. "It is good to meet you. I have sent many letters, but they were always returned unable to find you, except for one that seems to have made it through to you at school, but I gather the old codger burned it upon arrival. Touching it activated a portkey, but all I got back was ashes. I am the Potter account manager and I have a good deal of things to discuss with you, but that can wait until later during business hours. For now, we need to get you your lord's rings. No one aside from the Lord Potter of the day is aware of this, but your family has access to five lordships, but not all of them are strictly reliant on blood. Your father could claim three, your grandfather four. I'm unaware of any Potter claiming all five at once. Three are reliant on feats and achievements to claim." At that, he bent down at his desk and brought up an ornate box. Upon opening it, it revealed five rings: one gold and ruby, one silver and opal (Harry thought it was an opal), one silver and amethyst, one gold and black, and the center one was a thick ring of an odd black metal with a huge yellow stone.

"These are your family rings.
The gold one set with a ruby is for the Gryffindor line. You can only wear this ring if you have a brave deed to your name the blood line matters as well but no cowardly lord potter could wear this.
The silver set with amethyst is the Lord's ring for the Peverell line. This is an inherited ring all Potters have claim to. Alongside the Potter ring, these two are considered the most important in your family.
The next one is an odd one, a rare mineral called silverite set with a blue moonstone. This ring can only be claimed by those who have slain darkness. It is said that this ring was passed to your family from a Viking lord.
The Potter family ring is made from another extremely rare material, even by goblin standards. orichalcum and is set with a fine yellow sapphire. This one is also inherent to your family and requires no deeds.
And finally, the gold and black is the ring of the fallen House of Emrys." The goblin flips through some pages, eyebrow crinkled. "Not much is written here. It just says, 'If worn, it tests you. If you fail, you pass.'"

"So, if i fail, whatever the test is it'll kill me? No, thanks," said Harry adamantly.

"Yes, by all accounts, the Emrys had gone completely mad when he split reality and left for whatever land he now resides in."

"Do I have to claim them all now or what?"

"Oh no, Lord Potter. Claim them as you feel the need to, but I'd claim your family ring now if I were you."

"Right," said Harry, extending his arm and grabbing the ring before quickly placing it on the ring finger of his right hand. It automatically sized to perfectly fit his finger.

"Congratulations, Lord Potter. Now, I believe you have access to all family property. There is an apartment in Diagon Alley and a few more places around the country. Most houses are more than a few centuries old and in need of revitalizing, if not demolition. Potter Manor is in Somerset. I recommend getting into the apartment first, Lord Potter, at least for tonight, and then going and unsealing your family home. I have heard about your troubles with the old one, and while we could not stop his thieving when he was your guardian, he has now been locked out of all accounts and properties. Here is—" and he lifted a folder almost three inches thick, "a list for you to turn into the DMLE. It has all Potter property your guardian 'borrowed' since he named himself your guardian. You can turn this into the DMLE and get your property from that which has been seized following the old man's flight from the Ministry. It will also allow you to seize any property from his personal vault that either is yours or to make up for any of your property that is missing. He did sign that as collateral against these object loans, after all." Oh, and 30 percent interest per year of the items' worth, against his vault and against the vault of the office of the chief warlock. He signed that as well. I'll give that to your solicitor as soon as possible."

Harry sat and thumbed through a few pages. Books, some artifacts whose meaning escaped Harry, and something called a Pensive. He stood, taking the file of object loans and properties with him, and began to bow slightly to say goodbye when the goblin tsked loudly. "Never bow to a goblin lord, Potter; it's rude."

"Right, err. How do I do that?" "Clap your arm to your chest and incline your head. A warrior's salute." Harry repeats the motion. "Good night, Bludrock."

"And you, Lord Potter" With that, Harry left the bank, retracing his steps until he was out of the door and repeating the salute to the two goblins at the door, who wordlessly repeated it.

"So?" Andromeda asked Harry. "Where to?"

"Number 93, Diagon ally," and the group set off to find Harry's apartment.

Chapter Text

Harry awoke on a dull and dark Sunday morning extremely early to a start. A loud bang had sounded outside his window, causing him to jump from bed and rush to the window to see what had happened. When he peered out into the twilit gloom, he was further startled to see glinting and glimmering shattered glass decorating the cobblestone alley and a thick plume of black smoke belching out of the now-empty holes where seconds before glass panes were fixed into the window and door.

Rushing flung the window open and stuck his head out of it before calling to the older bald man who had stepped out of the shop, hacking and coughing from the smoke. "Hey, are you okay!?"

"I'm fine, Master Potter, I'm fine." He paused to cough some more, spitting out black phlegm. "All's well."

"Hang on, and I'll come down and help!" And with that, Harry retracted his head and rushed through his new apartment, still relishing the freedom to be as loud as he wished. He opened the front door of the currently empty store under his flat and approached the older man.

Both minding the smoke, "So, Aldwin, what happened?"

"Oh, nothing. I was brewing a potion, but my porcupine quills must have been contaminated or out of date. It's hard to tell sometimes, and I'm not exactly a master brewer. I need these windows fixed, though, and unfortunately, my wand went up with my potion. You wouldn't mind helping me, would you, Mr. Potter? The charm is Reparo, with a big, wide, slow wave."

"Well," said Harry, "I've never done it before, but I can give it a go." And with that, Harry pulled out his wand and cast in a long, sweeping arc, "Reparo!" What proceeded was a loud conflagration of tinkles and tingles as the glass rose from its resting space and fixed itself in place before the cracks sealed slowly. It took two more casts of the repairing charm for all the cracks to be gone.

"Very good, Mr. Potter, very good for a soon-to-be second year. I've said it before, but I feel we must expect great things from you. I, myself, couldn't cast that charm until fourth year, but I've never had my older brother's skill with wands or magic."

Harry knew his neighbor's older brother well. The older man's name was actually Aldwin Ollivander, the youngest child of the "Ollivander Brothers" as they had apparently been known in their youth, and the only one with children and now grandchildren to carry on the name and family business. He had first met the man on his first morning in the flat, four whole days ago now.

Waking up and hearing the hum and thrum of Diagon Alley had been a surprise. He had expected to wake up to his aunt banging on his door to start breakfast, but upon waking up and finding himself the owner of the house, he left his bedroom to find Andromeda and Mrs. Granger sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee while Ted and Mr. Granger were busy packing away what must have been several hundred pounds worth of groceries and household supplies: food, spices, dishes, cleaners, soaps, bins, hampers, and organizers.

The flat had been barren when they got in the night before—only beds, couches, and chairs covered in "stasis sheets," as Andromeda had called them.

Yawning and stretching, Harry called out, "Good morning!" He walked into the kitchen dressed in pajamas that must have been eighty years old but were still pretty much new. Preservation charms were very handy, Harry thought.

"What's all this?" Harry asked, gesturing to the slowly shrinking pile of bags.

"Ooh, just a housewarming present from the four of us!" said Mrs. Granger. We woke up just before dawn and looked through your drawers and cabinets and couldn't find a single dish. The icebox and pantry were empty as well, except for that." And then she pointed towards a shiny black canning jar with a dusty white label.

Harry walked over to inspect the old stock. He picked up the jar and found it warm to the touch. He read the label.

"Charlus Potter Special Brew 1954" ~94% ABV~

This original label had been hastily crossed out with much newer ink that read, "Charlus' Lava Burst—it tastes like burning!—Sirius Black, 1978."

"Well, that's terrifying," Harry said as he set the bottle down. "Would you mind putting that up somewhere for display?"

Mr. Granger came and grabbed the bottle and put it high up on the kitchen cabinet. "That'll do for now. We can take you shopping for furniture later, or you can go yourself, I suppose. The furniture store is just out front, actually."

"Well, I'll have to check it out later today," Harry said while looking at the slightly less-than-barren flat with its ancient couches. "I'd like to get a bit more modern furniture, I think."

A few hours passed, and Hermione had finally woken up. With everyone fed and watered, the group left the apartment by the stairs leading to the vacant shop underneath rather than the stairs that led directly outside, as the balcony and stairs had rotted and were unsafe to stand on. "This store looks a lot bigger in the daylight," Harry commented, looking around. The night before, the shadows had kept everything dark and lent a claustrophobic feel to the place.

"That'll happen with old buildings like this. The shop was built along with the rest of the alley a few years after the Statute of Secrecy came about," said Andromeda knowingly.

"Hey, Hermione, what kind of store should I open up here? It seems like a waste to leave the space empty. Of course, I can't really run a shop at this point with school and everything. So it's a bit of a moot point, I guess."

"Hmm, I don't know, Harry. This store opens up into Muggle London as well. Through the back, you could open an apothecary on this side and a tea shop on the other when you graduate. But who knows, maybe a better idea will come along in a few years." Hermione said, standing behind and fiddling with the old brass till until, with a loud clanking (ching!) sound, the drawer popped open. Hermione had to stand on the tips of her toes to see into the drawer better, but she lifted the top drawer and, with a sound of surprise and an "Oh my!" pulled something out. She walked over to Harry and handed him five galleons and a note written in feminine, flowing cursive writing.

"Monty, these five galleons are the profit from the first day of this shop's business. Leave them under the till; they may bring your store luck—it certainly isn't going to do much good anywhere else with prices these days!

—Euphemia Potter"

"Huh, would you looky there? Put them back, Hermione? I don't need them, and they've been in that till since it was bought, most likely. But who were Monty and Euphemia? My grandparents were Charlus and Dorea."

"Those would be Charlus's parents, I believe," replied Andromeda. Now, let's continue to the furniture store. As much as I appreciate the hospitality, Harry, a woman does prefer her own bed to sleep in."

And so, they stepped out into Diagon Alley and proceeded to the neighboring store, "Olivanders Lomary, Fine Furniture and Decor, 392 B.C." When the owner saw a large group enter his store, it being a rare occurrence, he rushed over and tripped, managing to catch himself before he hit the ground. "Good day, good morning, good afternoon. Welcome to my family's lo—" He had caught sight of Harry, and he continued almost in a whisper, "Bless my soul. Harry Potter, here in my shop. What an honor. Mr. Potter, welcome to the Olivander family lomary, or furniture store in layman's terms. My name is Aldwin Olivander. What may I do to assist you this afternoon?"

The man, Aldwin, had a manner very similar to the man who ran the wand shop, and he looked just the same, if not younger. He had brown hair, bordering on red, flecked with gray. He was skinny but well-built, and his eyes were the same shimmering silver as his older brother's, and they shone with an inner light, glowing in anticipation of assisting his most famous customer.

"Well, I'd like three bedroom suites with queen-sized mattresses. And one of your best bedroom suites fit for a king-sized mattress. I don't know what the best type of mattress is, but I want all of them to be top-of-the-line in comfort. Also, I need a dining room set and a matching set for a sitting room with the best and most comfortable couches. If possible, I'd like a reclining chair as well. I don't know if the wizarding world has those, so I might have to buy one from a Muggle store. I'd like all the armoires and chests magically expanded, please."

"And what colours would you like? Unlike in my brother's shop, you get to pick the material here, Mr Potter. We have deep oak, dark pine, rich mahogany, ebony, yew and cherry, and stains in just about every colour you can imagine," Aldwin explained with a smile. It took a bit for Harry to look around and decide on mahogany with a natural colour stain, but when he decided he was very happy. The colour reminded him of the four-posters in Gryffindor Tower.

"And finally, to chalk up this order and make it official, how will you be paying for this, Mr. Potter?"

"How much is it? I will go to the bank right now and get it for you."

"That will not be necessary. We merchants in Diagon Alley accept many forms of money, both credit and cash. But for those people who have enough wealth, there is a third option." And then he pulls out what appears to be a gold business card.

"This, Mr. Potter, is a Gringotts vault transfer slip. As the merchant, I place my wand on it and inscribe the total cost." He does this, and 7,847.11.23 appears in the center of the card.

"Now, you just take your Gringotts vault key and tap the card, same as me." As Harry completed the action, an imprinted copy of Harry's key appeared in high relief on the card.

"And that Mr. Potter allows Gringotts to transfer the necessary funds immediately into this store's vault. Very convenient, eh?"

Harry was grinning. "I love magic!"

"Well, Mr. Potter, that's us done. Is that you who moved into the old Potters' potions shop, yes?"

And Harry's nod, the older man beamed. "Well, then, we'll be happy to deliver your furniture before closing. I'll just need an hour to check if my stock is up to par, but it should be. My sons will move the pieces, and you just tell them where to place them. That charge is also in the total you already paid."

"This is amazing! I didn't think it would be such a quick and easy experience."

"Well, Mr. Potter, that's magic for you; it makes everything easier. It's good to hear you vocalize your love of magic, young man. Too many of us take our gifts for granted."

After that meeting, Harry had gone back to the furniture store daily to fill some need of the newly furnished home: picture frames for the pictures Hagrid had given him of his parents, end tables for the couch, and bookshelves for his seemingly ever-increasing collection of books. He even went into detail and helped design three shoe organizers for the three armoires. After building one and placing it in the window as new stock, Mr. Aldwin had told Harry he had more new customers that week than he had in three years. "Witches and their love of shoes!" as the older man said.

"And what potion exactly were you trying to make? I don't think the potion to give black lung has been invented yet," the young man snarked to the accident-prone Ollivander.

"Oooh, my, no, no, no. Just trying to invent a new diamond-hard polish, one I can sell here and not mark up exorbitantly like the current producer does. Potion experimentation can be a dastardly, dangerous pastime, but worth it in the end, most of the time. Now, be on your way, Mr. Potter. I say you can still get a few hours of rest before that charming friend of yours makes it over. You said she was coming by today, yes?"

At the mention of Hermione, Harry had jumped about a foot in the air, realizing that he had forgotten she was due over today. At the same time, a large, fluffy missile whizzed out of the sky and slammed into Harry's front door.

"Oh, my!" said Aldwin. The two rushed over, and Aldwin bent down to examine what had hit Harry's door.

"This is an owl. Or maybe it was an owl. There's a letter here, Mr. Potter," said the old ploughwright as he handed the letter to Harry before returning to examining the owl on the ground.

"Oh! It's from my friend, Ron Weasley. If I remember correctly, he said his family's owl was ancient and that it collapses on deliveries all the time."

"Well, you go best reply to your friend's letter and tell him that the last delivery finished the poor owl off. And tell him to let his folks know I'll have the owl in a nice casket for him. A loyal owl deserves to be buried."

"Is he dead?" asked Harry with great concern. He knew that owls were expensive and that the Weasleys were very, very poor.

"Hmm, oh yes, you will not want to look too closely at the poor thing. Best go on, Harry. I'll take care of the owl. You go on and pen a reply to the letter and send it off as fast as possible." When Aldwin scooped up Errol, Harry saw a small pool of blood on the stoop under his door before it was vanished by whatever magic keeps the alley clean.

Harry hurried up to his room and to his new writing desk; this was only the second time he had gotten to use it. Given the nature of his reply to this letter, Harry felt the need to get out his best quill, a jet-black albatross feather quill with a dazzling silver nib, and his best ink. Properly readied with his supplies, he sat down to read the surprisingly long letter.

Well, long for Ron anyway.

"Hey, mate!

I'm sorry it's been so long since I've written. Mum had me grounded ever since our marks got back and she saw I barely passed. She only let me write to you now because we heard what happened. Dad came home the other day and told us about you getting emancipated. I swear Fred and George are acting like they want to have a go at it as well. Is it fun, not having anyone to tell you what to do or anyone to ground you for not caring about school?

I bet it is.

Have you heard from Hermione this summer? She said she went to France, but I can't reply to her letters, and Mom confiscates them, so I can't read them. I know she's sent at least four, but Mum won't let me see them. I bet she was trying to tell me a bit of what you were up to.

Dad also told us about Dumbledore. Have you heard from him since? Has he tried to contact you?

"Hope to hear from you soon, Ron Weasley."

Harry sat back and wondered how to reply. He had planned to talk to Ron about all this when they were back on the train. Well, that's as good a place to start as any.

Ron,"

Hi, Ron,

It's good to hear from you. I'm sorry I didn't put any effort into writing to you after that first time. Your reply was short, and I figured you weren't the type to write letters. So I was just going to catch up with you on the train back to school.

Before I start my letter, I must tell you that your family owl, Errol, is dead. I'm sorry, Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys. He crashed straight into my door, and I think he cracked his head open. I'm not sure. My neighbor, Alwin Ollivander, took Errol into his shop. He said that he would keep Errol until your mum or dad came to collect him for burial.

onto your letter.

Yeah, being by myself is pretty good. Of course, I have my own experiences coloring that. I'm sure that if I had my mother and father, I would most likely be very thankful for them.

Don't take advantage of your family, Ron. You're the lucky one here, not me. I'd take my mom grounding me ten times out of ten rather than be here in this empty flat with only the memories of a family I never had hanging on the wall.

Well, that was depressing.

I've been with Hermione quite a bit. She was at my hearing, actually. And yes, you're right, she was likely trying to bring you up to speed on what was happening with me. It was very touch-and-go there. Without Smara's help, I'd probably be dead at least three times over. She helped save me from Dumbledore.

I was also hospitalized because of my uncle. That's what really prompted the emancipation. It was already in the works, but then my uncle lost control of himself, and I think that's what won it for me. I met a whole lot of interesting people—some you wouldn't approve of, like Malfoy's father. He's a smarmy one, I can tell you that, but decent enough if you have something he is interested in.

If your mom or dad lets you come with them to get Errol, it'll be brilliant. Hope to see you soon, and if not, at some point before school. -Harry Potter

p.s. "the furnace" is my new floo adress.

Harry then rolled up the parchment and sealed it with the wax seal at his desk. Before giving the letter to Hedwig, who was on her way, she was at once pleased to have work after nearly a week.

As Harry sat at his desk, he examined his new room. It was large, as all master bedrooms are, with a spacious en suite that included a magical hot tub. It was spectacular. His bed was a king-sized mattress, big enough that he could spread out his full length and not touch the top or bottom of the massive cushion. All the furniture was made of deep mahogany and various shades of red. The place reminded him of a furnace, and thus, the name of his home was born. "The Furnace" was now his floo address.

On his desk and on the floor next to his desk was a truly massive pile of both Ministry tax papers going back until his grandfather's death and Gringotts management and accounting forms, as well as an equally massive stack of forms from all of the Potter family businesses.

He had a little more than a month from now, till he returned to school, to hand these all in. He had decided to start on the business requests and requisitions—the various ventures wanting emergency funds for repairs that needed to be done a decade ago or requests for money to expand a business. Gringotts asked if they could change investments from one account to another to protect growth. Upon seeing that Harry had sent a letter to his account manager stating that Harry was entrusting the full financial might of the Potter investment vault to his hands and that he didn't need to ask permission to do anything, the account manager immediately planned to recoup those losses as quickly as possible. He had furthermore instructed Bloodrock to invest heavily in the Muggle side of things, especially in the world of technology and computers.

Harry's desire to return and regrow his family fortune to what it should have been did not negate the fact that paperwork was torture. Each of these Three days, he had done nothing but read and sign papers. Sometimes, I discovered a few packets later that what he had just signed wasn't necessary anymore because the business closed or reached a workaround for acquiring the funds needed. He still sent in and submitted those forms anyway, just in case Gringotts needed them. But today, he wasn't touching those papers. He had a guest, or two if Ron showed up with his parents to collect the owl.

Harry didn't quite understand why he was so excited to see Hermione. They had been writing at least twice a day since she and her parents left that first day on Harry's insistence.

"I need to get used to being on my own anyway. You all go home. I'm perfectly capable of cooking my own dinner."

Casting a quick Tempus Charm, Harry saw that the time was 11:27, so he went about making a light breakfast of bacon and egg sandwiches. As he sat down to eat, another owl landed on his table and dropped a letter from its beak before taking off again. Harry had expected a reply from the Weasleys, but it was a letter from the DMLE.

"Hmm, I wonder what they want," thought Harry.

"Good day, Mr. Potter.

The DMLE requests that you come in for an interview regarding your upbringing in the House of VErnon DursLey and Petunia Dursey, as well as a few quick details about the DuMbledorE case. We will send an Auror to escort you to the Ministry tomorrow morning at 10 a.m. sharp.

-Emilia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,

Harry sat the letter down and began eating, thankful to have something to look forward to tomorrow as well. As he finished eating, he felt a slight niggle from the wards and, with a bare thought, allowed the party requesting access to his Floo, and a second later, three people stood in his parlor sporting identical shades of flaming red hair, but the tallest among them was balding on top. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ron had arrived.

"Hey, mate!" Ron ran up to Harry for a crisp high five, sporting a bright smile.

"It's good to see you again. Sorry about the letters, oh," he cut himself off and looked back at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"This is my mom and dad. Mom, Dad, this is Harry Potter, my best mate."

"It's good to meet you, Harry, dear. This is a fine flat you've found for yourself. While I can't say I approve of such a young man living on his own, I can at least see you're being sensible and taking care of yourself," said Molly.

"And I can see why you've called this place, 'The Furnace.' Goodness, I haven't seen this much crimson since I left Hogwarts!" Mr. Weasley said jovially.

"Molly and I will leave Ron here for the day if that's alright, Harry. We're here to take Errol back to the Burrow, which you should know you are more than welcome to come to anytime you like, especially if you want a home-cooked meal," Mr. Weasley started, and Mrs. Weasley finished the declaration, waiting for Harry's assent before stepping out of the side door to the recently replaced stairs.

"So," said Ron. "What are you up to today, mate?"

"Oh well, not much waiting for Hermione to get here; she can't take the Floo, you know."

"Hermione's going to be here? When did you set that up?"

"When she and her parents were last here the day after my hearing, "

"Oh, sorry. I thought she had been over a lot or something."

"Nooo, not for lack of trying, mind you, but her parents want to spend time with her as well, I think. They went up to Edinburgh yesterday. She mentioned feeling some hidden magic around the castle but couldn't find anything with Muggles around."

"She can feel magic? She said, 'Feel?'"

"Err... yeah? Why can't everyone?"

"Harry, only truly powerful sorcerers can sense magic like that. I think Dumbledore is the only person known to have this talent in Britain this century. Wait, are you saying that you can as well?"

"Err, well, yes, I can. Sort of like a static charge in the air?"

"Wow, two people who can directly sense magic. Cool..." They sat in an airy silence for a minute before Ron spoke again.

"So, what do you have for fun over here?"

"Fun? Ha. I haven't had much time for fun since I got here. Refurbishing. Refinishing. And restocking the entire house. By yourself, even with magic, isn't easy. Not to mention my second day here, people from the Ministry and Gringotts dropped off a few stacks of parchment work about three meters thick. Each." Harry pointed back to his bedroom where the heavily laden desk was clearly visible through the doors.

"Whew, well, I can't say I envy you there, mate. Well, let's go to one of the shops down the alley. Dad gave me some pocket money."

"I can't run; I'm waiting for Hermione. Remember, we can go check out the shops after she gets here," said Harry sternly.

"Oh, alright then. Well, tell me more about what's been going on. Dad told us about the hearing and all, but what started it? Have you seen or heard from Dumbledore since then?"

"No, I haven't, but a wizard like Dumbledore? He could be sitting in the room, and I probably wouldn't notice him." And they sat at Harry's kitchen table, and Harry recounted the events of his summer, including the two times he had apparently died but had been resuscitated.

And with that, a few hours passed, and there was a loud knock at his door.

Upon answering it, a great, fluffy missile impacted Harry and knocked him off his feet, taking him and the large tangle of hair to the ground. When the weight settled on him and his best friend sat up, revealing her beaming face, they both laughed. "Sorry, Harry! I didn't mean to knock you down. Hello, Ronald."

She stood up, and Harry was astounded. "Hermione, your hair has grown."

"Of course it has. Hair is always growing. Don't you know anything?"

Harry pursed his lips at that. "Yes, I'm aware hair is always growing, but I don't think it's natural for your hair to grow a full foot and a half in four days." Hermione's hair now hung well below her waist, maybe even reaching the middle of her thighs as it tapered down. But it was no longer a bushy mess but neat, orderly coils of bouncy hair.

"You are, of course, correct, Harry. It is not natural," she giggled. "I'm trying a hair treatment that will get rid of the tangled, bushy nest my hair is naturally. Unfortunately, the side effect is that your hair grows insanely fast for the week after the treatment. It was all the way down to the ground, but I've always liked my hair long, so I cut it to this length, and my hair will never again be a bushy mess! I love magic. Another downside is that I'll have to wear my hair in buns or braids forever if I don't want it tangled in everything, but it's a small price to pay."

"Well, you look good at any rate, Hermione," said a beaming Harry. "What would you like to do today? Ron suggested going and looking at the shops, which I have to admit sounds good. I haven't had a chance to do that just yet."

At this point, Smaragein comes barreling out of wherever she was hiding and leaps at Hermione, coiling herself around the young woman's waist, arms, shoulders, and once lightly around her neck, hissing nonstop.

"HERMIONE, little lion, you must never leave me alone with this insolent runtling for so long ever again! How am I to have any worthwhile conversation with you gone off somewhere?"

Hermione, giggling the while, replied to the snake, "Hello, Smaragain. I see Harry has been neglecting you, as usual." The snake nodded. "And it's obvious he hasn't been capable of giving you the kind of stimulating conversation you so obviously need."

Smara looked up at the ceiling in a way that was meant to mimic an eye roll.

"You know," said Harry. "I still can't decide if you can actually understand her, Hermione. Is there a way I can tell if you're a Parselmouth as well and just don't know it?"

"Of course not, Harry. I think I'd know if I was speaking an entirely different language."

"Why? I can't. It just sounds like English to me."

"Well, I suppose I can say that Smara and I communicate through the power of female intuition," Hermione explained, giggling.

Smara, still coiled around Hermione's shoulders, shrunk down further so that she wouldn't weigh the young witch down as she stood up and dusted her clothes off. Not that there was any dust. Harry very quickly swept the room with a dust-expelling charm, as he did at least twice a day.

Some habits from Aunt Petunia were hard to break.

"Well, Harry, to answer your question, I would like a tour, Harry. I haven't seen everything you've added, and you're absolutely dreadful at describing things in the right detail."

Oh, alright. Well, we'll start here then.

As you can probably tell, I had you in mind for this room. I had the windows enlarged for more light in the daytime as well as eight large gas lamps around the room with special glass and enchantments that make them all even brighter than they would be normally. Apparently, St. Mungo's uses the same ones. But this will make reading day or night a very nice and relaxing time. There are plenty of books, shelves, and shelf space. It's mostly empty now, but I figure with me and you, and maybe Ron, we will be clamoring for shelf space soon enough. Ron snorted at this.

"As if, Harry, you know I hate reading."

Harry shrugged at this. "Hogwarts offers a lot of classes, Ron. We might not take the same courses in the future, and you can store your extra coursebooks here if you want. That's all I was saying."

And with that, Harry went through the rest of the flat and showed them all the upgrades he had made or, more accurately, hired someone to make. He showed them the hideaway shelves under the kitchen counters, the hidden drawers in some of the walls, and explained the odd bits of furniture that were not part of the package suites he had purchased and which problem they solved, like the Muggle-inspired shoe organizers or the long, tall, and thin table in the hallway whose only purpose was to hide the old knee-high radiator that Harry had kicked on his second morning. They gathered in the sitting room after Harry showed off his master bath with a magical whirlpool bath and walk-in shower to discuss their next options.

"I say we go check out Gamble and Japes! They're supposed to have a whole new line of Dr. Filibuster's fireworks and the latest Trick Sweets."

"Alright, then. We'll start there."

" Well, how can i disagree with cuaseing the twins' mischief? Hermione?"

"Okay, alright. But we were stopping at Scribbulus. I'm almost out of self-correcting ink."

Ron looked at Hermione, his eyebrows crinkled and eyes wide.

"How do you go through so much ink, Hermione? I know you buy ink refills by the pint, but it takes me a year to go through that much."

"It's a side effect of correcting your homework so much, Ronald. If I didn't have to write correction notes for you so much, I'd save a fortune on ink!" Hermione snapped out, furiously.

"Hermione, that's only half true, and you know it. You said yourself your notes are too long." Harry stopped their bickering with a placating tone.

"That is also true. I'm sorry, Ron. I'm just a bit off lately."

"It's alright, Hermione. I get it. I live with my mother and little sister, and they both get techy every now and then as well. I'm sorry I upset you, though."

And the trio set off through the alley, but something was off. Being Harry Potter, Harry was used to people's faces following him or even people following him, and almost everyone stared as he walked by. But Harry had caught sight of the same middle-aged man in a black suit and trench coat almost 10 times now in the corner of his eye as they looked into the various windows and shops they passed, staring at him, always never taking his eyes off of Harry. As they stopped in front of another window that Hermione was admiring, a rather tasteful knee-length skirt, Harry spoke up in a low murmur. "Someone's following us." On three, let's book it four stores up and into a right-side alley. Wands drawn. One. Two. THREE. On three, Ron and Hermione booked it forward, but Harry turned and shouted, "Expelliarmus!" As thick white smoke shot out of Harry's wand, he took off running, casting the spell behind him for a second, cutting it off just as he dipped into the alley his friends were in, wands facing forward. People, adults, and children were running, scattering, trying to escape the smoke. Always a wise precaution in the wizarding world. A second later, that same man came running into their alley and was hit at once with two "Petrificus Totalus!" and his arms and legs snapped together and to his sides, and he crashed down, his eyes going between the three wildly. While Ron was casting the Emergency Summon spell, that had two peacekeepers there within seconds as they were examining the smoke in the alley already.

"Whoa, whoa, what's this, then? You lot wouldn't know what happened out there," the peacekeeper said, throwing his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the rear of him where the thick smoke Harry had summoned was drifting out on the wind.

"Er, yeah, that was me," said Harry.

"I saw this guy watching us and following us, and well." Harry showed his scar. "I'm a bit offput by people following me, if you catch my meaning." At that, Harry looked at the older man.

Only, there wasn't an older man. The other peacekeeper had cast a Finite at him, and in three seconds flat, his cousin Tonks was there, lying on the ground and looking sheepish.

"Wotcher, Harry."

"Tonks?" the younger peacekeeper said. "Just what are you doing?"

"Following orders and shadowing Harry, you know who is after him at the moment. Jinx, the boss lady, has a few Aurors shadowing Harry just in case the old goat shows up and tries to blow up his house. Not that he needs it. Apparently, it was a nice show, you lot setting up an escape and ambush like that in under a minute. Fantastic instincts."

"Do you mind letting me up, Doyle, or am I under arrest?"

"No, no, not this time, Auror Tonks. But I'd work on your concealment skills if three kids spotted you that easily."

"Well, it wasn't just three kids, was it? It was two kids: Harry Potter, and I bet Hermione is there somewhere as well. She's never far from Harry. Trust me, Harry is hard to hide from."

"But Tonks, I don't understand something. I got a letter from you lot this morning telling me that I was going to be brought to the Ministry tomorrow to answer questions about the Dursleys and Dumbledore."

"..."

"What?" said Harry.

"... what? Repeat that in more detail," replied Tonks, all levity forgotten.

"I got a letter this morning saying that Madam Bones wants me to answer some questions about how the Dursleys raised me and about something to do with Dumbledore, and that she's sending someone along to escort me to the Ministry tomorrow morning at 10."

"Harry, the Dursley case is closed, and Madam Bones has been absent from the Ministry since Monday. She has not notified any of us about bringing you in to answer questions or clarify anything, and if she had, she would have just told the three of us watching you to ask you at your home instead of dragging you all the way across London!" At that, she perks up. "Doyle, jinx, go clear the alley now, immediately." She then casts a Patronus. "I want back up in Diagon Alley between Twilfit and Tatting's and Mrs. Maria's. Now! Possible Level 5 response needed immediately!"

"Keep your wands out, you lot, you might need them. If that old codger was sending someone to nab you, Harry, and he sees that you've spoken to me, he will probably try to—" An explosion rent the street in front of them, and five figures apparated into the spot that the peacekeepers had just been. Two of them raised their wands and sent two bolts of white light at the heads of the prone figures of Doyle and Jinx. The twitching of the wounded peacekeepers stopped.

Then another figure appeared and stared at the four in the alley. "Good day, Mr. Potter. If you would be so kind as to surrender your wand, my compatriots and I won't have to slaughter your friends in front of you."

"Never! You can sit on your wand."

"Dumbledore, you can put your wand down and surrender. I have the entire Auror Department coming, and I have the Black family blood shield raised. You can't touch us. You can't touch Harry! Surrender now, and they might spare you the Dementors and throw you straight to the Veil."

"Nymphadora, how nice to see that you have the courage to face me. Maybe you were missorted, but you cannot fool me. You must be in the Black family to use that spell, and you are not." And Dumbledore took a few steps forward and cast an unknown spell at Tonks, but it rebounded on the caster, and the old man barely avoided it and the follow-up curses that Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Tonks had fired off. Dumbledore and four of his henchmen moved away unscathed; the fifth, however, was hit by Tonks' spell and fell to the ground, his arms outstretched behind his back and his forehead digging into the ground before a white bolt of energy entered the back of the stranger's head.

"You insolent whelp!" yelled another of them and stepped into the shield, trying to grab Tonks, who was standing in front of the kids. But as soon as he made contact with the shield, two things happened: he was repelled and disintegrated, leaving nothing but a thick cloud of black dust lingering in the air.

"I told you lot to stay back, drop your wands now, and surrender, and you'll be shown mercy."

Dumbledore spoke, then ignored Tonks. "Harry, my boy, you must come with me at once. Your meddling has undone over a decade of plans. You are meddling with fate at its deepest level. You must come with me so that I can guide you on your way to your destiny! I don't want to hurt your friends or you. You are destined to defeat the Dark Lord, and only I can show you the way."

'THE ONLY DARKLORD I SEE HERE IS YOU!

SMARA KILL THEM!"

And at that, Smara grew to over half her full size and let her shining yellow eyes free from their protective lenses. Dumbledore stood still, staring at them impotently and angrily, but the three remaining cloaked figures dropped to the cobblestone road dead, like marionettes whose strings had been suddenly severed. At that same time, the sky seemed to crack, and people began Apparating in so fast it was like being surrounded by machine guns.

Albus Dumbledore drew a round object from his robes and threw it into the middle of the alley.

Pale skin, blond hair, and a gaping mouth.

The severed head of Amelia Bones.

"Susan Bones is in my custody. If you wish for her safe return, capture the boy and bring him to me. Fate cannot be trifled with by an adolescent."

"That's enough, Dumbledore." Harry stepped forward and cast as strong a Cutting Charm as he could, and to everyone's surprise, his charm made contact and severed the wand arm of Albus Dumbledore.

As the arm and wand clattered to the stone below their owner, black sparks shot out of Dumbledore's wand as it made impact with the ground.

"Accio wand!" Tonks yelled out, but the wand did not soar to her hand. Instead, it seemed to curve in mid-air and land in Harry's open lap, shooting out white sparks at the touch of the young wizard.

Dumbledore stuck his left arm into his robes and disappeared in a flash of blue light, contrasting with the red light from the more than a dozen stunners that sailed from the space he had once been.

Tonks very quickly dispelled the shield and ran forward to check on the peacekeepers. Hanging her head over the body of the man she called Jinx, who had obviously been her friend, she noticed the kids hadn't moved. They couldn't move. Harry and Hermione clutched each other in a death grip. She approached them after conjuring two sheets to place over the officers. The Aurors, who had apparated in, were already examining the scene in full investigation mode. "Are you lot all right?" Upon their nodding, she simply nodded as well. "Harry, you're an adult technically, but Hermione and Mr. Weasley here aren't, so we'll need to summon their parents before we can question them. Come on, we'll go to the DMLE interview rooms while we wait. Everyone, put a finger on the badge. And three, two, one." She tapped the center of her badge with her wand, and with a sensation like getting hooked behind the navel, they all disappeared into a blue light, the same as the old goat had minutes prior.

Chapter Text

Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat in a large conference room. Harry was sitting by himself—well, not really. He was actually seated between Mrs. Granger and Mrs. Weasley, but his friends sat between their parents. It was a shame, really. He could use Hermione's gentle comfort. His nerves were still shattered, and he couldn't control the shaking that racked his body or the paranoia that attacked his mind with each shadowed person that passed the frosted window of the conference room. They had been there for close to an hour, with only occasional people entering the room and murmuring quietly to the parents before leaving again. They sat in an uncomfortable silence, no one quite knowing what to say.

This carried on for about another half an hour before three Aurors entered the room and sat down. Then, one of them spoke up, introducing themselves to the group.

"Good afternoon. My name is Rufus Scrimgeour. This is Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, and the other is Lead Auror Gawain Robards. We appreciate the patience you have shown the Department today. As you can probably guess, the Department is in an uproar."

First things first, we will need to record your statements about the events of this morning, Mr. Potter. Let's start with you.

And with that, the interviews started. They went on for nearly two more hours, the three Aurors extracting every detail they could from their recollections as a group and independently. When Harry mentioned the DMLE letter, Scrimgeour, who was a very grizzled, lion-looking man, set his face in a very odd expression, inexpressibly sad and angry at the same time.

"Yes, we collected that letter already. Auror Tonks said that you mentioned it to her. That was Amelia's handwriting. What that man has done, I cannot comprehend. Dumbledore was the best of us. How he fell so quickly is disturbing."

Close to 5 in the afternoon, the trio was released from questioning, and no one other than the Minister of Magic approached the group.

"Mr. Potter, it's good to see you in good health, though it is a pity that it had to be under such horrible circumstances. Were you hurt at all?"

"No, sir," Harry replied dully. "Just a bit shaken, really."

"Yes, an understandable reaction. I am issuing you the use of my best warding team, Mr. Potter. You have been given the same protection status as myself. They are already reworking and adding to the Potter wards on your Diagon Alley flat. As well, they will come and review the wards on the ancestral Potter manor when you lift the war wards." He smiled jovially at Harry. "That should ease your mind a bit, young man. I am also putting you under the protection of the Venatori, the Minister's personal guards. You'll have one of three hit wizards following you at all times. Speaking of putting your mind at ease, it seems that Albus hasn't fallen quite so far into madness as we thought. The, the head that he displayed was a fake, a very well-done transfiguration. Still, I'm told that he would need access to the real deal to make such a copy, and Amelia is still missing, as is her niece. I'm sure that all this will die down, at least for now. Reports from the most hidden and backwater agents of our Ministry say Albus has fled to the continent and will most likely remain there for some time. That was no minor wound you dealt him, dear boy."

Harry looked down and shrugged. "I just wanted the fighting to stop."

"Sometimes, Harry, I can call you Harry, yes?" With Harry's nod, Fudge continued.

"Sometimes, Harry, it's difficult for us adults to remember just how young you are, despite how small you are, you give off an aura of more power and authority than most in the Ministry are capable of. Now, you should go home and have a lie-down. After the day you've had, you must be exhausted. Don't look for your guards; they are there but have been highly trained in stealth. You never see any guards around me, do you? But they are always there. I hope you kids have a better end to your day than the start."

And with that, the Minister walked off, shaking the adults' hands. Even the Grangers were given the Minister's hand. Harry wasn't sure why, but the move surprised him.

An hour later, and the trio and parents were back in Harry's flat, going over once again all that had happened. To the Grangers' shock, the kids seemed remarkably unaffected by watching three people die, which was explained away by Mr. Weasley.

"Magic, you see, is alive. It's inside all of us, but is most active in witches and wizards. It shapes us, guides us, and watches over us. The kids saw what they did today, but their magic is allowing them to process the events in a way no non-magical child would be able to."

We are able to accept the unacceptable far more readily than Muggle—than non-magical people. It's why psychiatric medicines are not practiced widely in the magical world. For the most part, they are simply not needed."

"And how do you feel about this, Hermione? Be honest," asked Mrs. Granger.

"I feel off. I know I should be far more bothered by this than I am, and I am disturbed by it. But it seems like the more I replay it in my head, the less it's affecting me. It's in the past now, and I should take note of it and carry on." All the other children nodded in agreement.

"Alright, but if any of you feel the need to talk to a professional, I'll make the appointment and pay for it."

"I'll pay for it," Harry interrupted Daniel Granger quickly.

"It was because of me that it happened. If there are any adverse effects, I'll pay for the treatment."

"I'm sure that won't be necessary, Harry, but thank you for looking out for our son."

"Well, in light of everything, I think I'll be letting Ron off his punishment. Harry, why don't you come and spend a few days with us? At the very least, Hermione is more than welcome to come as well. I have a daughter about a year younger than these three, and I'm sure the girls will get along just swell," Mrs. Weasley proposed to the group in her usual bossy fashion.

"That sounds great, Mrs. Weasley, but I'll need to bring some paperwork along. I need to get it all signed and sent back before school starts. It'll be good to have someone other than Aldwin to ask questions of." Harry said

"Hermione can stay until Friday, but we're going on a weekend trip then. Harry, you're more than welcome to come along to that as well; I can't imagine you've gone on many vacations with those horrid Dursleys." Emma Granger said very businesslike until the end, where she began to bite her words.

"THE DURSLEYS!" Harry nearly shouted in realization, causing the people around him to jump in alarm.

"Tonks mentioned them. I mentioned their case. I hadn't heard anything about it. I guess I'll have to ask her or pop back into the Ministry records, I guess."

"I can do that, Harry. I work tomorrow," said Mr. Weasley. "No point in you going all the way up there, now, Dan? Would you mind lending me your house keys? I'll apparate Hermione to your house or to an apparition point near your house and allow her to collect a few things for her stay."

It was several hours later now, in the dead of night, at "The Burrow," as the Weasley home was called. The house swayed and creaked in the still summer air. Harry lay awake in the small camp bed on the floor of Ron's tiny quasi-attic room, listening to the sounds of a house filled with the memories and lives of a truly happy family. And despite the almost charmed air, the joy that seeped into your bones all around him, Harry was experiencing nothing but disturbing disquiet and a small breath of horror. He had woken up what was probably an hour ago from another dream, another memory. Unlike Hermione, Ron hadn't awoken to comfort him, and so he lay there, unwilling to risk waking anyone up just because he was reliving his horrific life. Realizing that now, with Ron's chainsaw snoring and the chills and shakes he was still suffering from his nightmares, he wouldn't be able to sleep again. So he got up and left not only Ron's room but the house, out into the orchard that surrounded the magically constructed home, where he sat in silence and watched the moon for hours until, off in the distance, Harry heard the howl of a wolf. Harry froze in shock, listening to the howling brocade of finely harmonized wolves that seemed to surround him, enveloping him in a warm song. The tune seemed familiar, like a song he had heard as a child but had long forgotten.

"Don't worry, they won't hurt you."

Harry jumped at the voice and turned to see a tall, slender young man with flaming red hair, probably about 20 years of age.

"How?" Harry asked, looking around.

The young man smiled. "Not many people know it in the Muggle world or magical world, but Ottery St Catchpole—specifically, the magical portion of the village that contains vast amounts of enchanted, expansive forests and orchards—is home to the last remaining population of native English wolves. They hide in the enchanted forests here. The only other population lives in the Black Forest around Hogwarts. And like I said, you don't need to fear them; they won't hurt you. They're teaching their young to hunt, and they know better than to hunt wizards."

Harry stared out, listening as the calls surrounded them once more. "It isn't." Harry paused and looked into his lap, searching for the right words.

"It's not the wolves out there that worry me." He waved into the shadow-veiled trees before tapping the side of his head. "It's the wolves in here."

"Ah, the monsters of our minds always seem a more pertinent threat, don't they? I know the feeling. I had the same reaction the first time I saw someone die. Of course, I wasn't twelve. The name's Bill Weasley. Mum told me about what happened today. I wondered if I'd catch any of you lot out here."

"What happened with your first, if you don't mind me asking?" Harry said quietly.

"I'm a curse-breaker for Gringotts. Last October was my first month as a fully-fledged curse-breaker. From 18 until 21, I was in the Gringotts apprenticeship. In October, I earned my full qualifications."

Curse-breaking is dangerous, Harry, one of the most dangerous jobs in the wizarding world. One of the curse-breakers that started that job with me did something foolish. He broke the order of operations because he was sure that the tomb we were in was an easy win. It wasn't. He activated a trap, and—" Bill clapped his hands together. "We were given administrative leave for a week and sent back for a month of safety courses.

"Sometimes, Harry, it's easiest to bottle up your thoughts and emotions, but it's never healthy to do so, even for wizards.

You know what else isn't healthy for me, by the way, is you mentioning this little conversation to my mum."

Harry sat contemplating Bill's story and chose to change the topic.

"How does one become a Cursebreaker?"

"Same route as an Auror, really. NEWTs in DADA, Potions, Transfiguration, and Charms, only you've got to tack on Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. I hold a mastery in four subjects, which is four more than most wizards and three more than some.

The Cursebreaker apprenticeship is one of the only programs in the wizarding world that will give you multiple masteries."

"Do you like it even though—?"

"I love my job, Harry. It's good work, with great people, and even better money. It's safe enough if you follow safety procedures. Accidents happen everywhere, Harry, even at Hogwarts. Just ask Professor Kettleburn next term."

"I've heard of him, not much left but a bit of torso and arm. Fred says he refers to him as Professor Kettlebell."

"I wouldn't emulate my little brother, Harry. They may be fun, but they'll get you into more trouble than the fun is worth."

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Bill. I feel a lot better now. Only if I can get to sleep—Ron snores like a machine gun."

Well, why don't you come and stay with me? You can have Charlie's bed. Mom probably thought it was inappropriate since I'm an adult, but honestly, if she's going to put anyone in with Ron, she should cast a Silencing Charm on him first. It's just basic courtesy.

Harry followed Bill to his room and collapsed on Charlie Weasley's bed, falling asleep faster than he thought possible.

Bill, on the other hand, was stowing his wand back on his nightstand next to his bed after hitting Harry with a drowsiness charm.

The next few days were filled with laughter, paperwork, and a lot of fun. Harry also learned that following his own hearing, the Dursleys were also tried, and in light of the ex-headmaster's mental manipulations, they were ordered to stay well clear of Harry, and they wouldn't suffer any jail time.

That Friday morning, Hermione disappeared after a strong hug to Harry and a quick goodbye to everyone else. Harry returned to his flat for the first time in days, no longer burdened by the massive stack of papers Percy, Hermione, and Mr. Weasley had helped comb through and organize. With the help of some Gringotts-certified signature stamps, he was able to go through all three massive piles of parchment and authorize business deals, tax filings, and investment opportunities, including buying out the potions shop and apothecary in Diagon Alley and rebranding them to Potter's Pot Herb and Potter's Potions. The businesses were still run and operated by the same people, but now Harry owned them and thus received kickbacks from the profits.

As Harry stepped out of the fire and approached his kitchen table, he found a small stack of letters, already opened. Harry figured that it must have been his bodyguards, whom he had yet to meet, and Smara was there as well, glaring at him.

" and just where have you been, youngling!"

harry cringed he had left smara here alone without a second thought."SMARA! i am so, so sorry !"amd harry recounted the events of the attack and just being so distracted eith ron and hermione at the burrow that he hadnt though about anything other than his friends and the paperwork he had brought eith him.

" see that it doesn't happen again youngling or I will grow to my full size and lay on you"

"Yes, Smaragain."

"It is good that you are unhurt. I would hate to have to find another small, toothpick of a child to keep as a pet. The actions of the bearded one confuse me. From what I have observed through the years, the old headmaster was never vicious nor cruel. He is the master of a phoenix. They do not bind themselves easily."

"He's been that way for my entire life, I think, at least as long as I've been with my aunt and uncle. There have been times that after my uncle would hurt me, he would show up. I think he would heal me so I wouldn't die, but I can't remember the memories that are too hazy to distinguish. The scans and magical releases they did on me at the hospital let me remember, but it seems most of the memories are too damaged."

"So, it's something to do with you then, youngling. Might you want to go and see what official records there are of you? Some secrets will only be found if you go and find them."

"Speaking of secrets, I think it's time you go to the Potter Manor in Somerset. The last time I was there, your ancestors were digging the foundations."

""You've been there?"

"Yes, as I've told you, your ancestors were cousins to my father—not that they got along very well, mind you. I think they called him to erect a static blood ward on something hidden in the foundations, but it was so long ago that I can hardly remember the details.

Letters arrived for you while you were gone. The Hidden Ones examined them, but two of them looked important, and three were taken. You pulled had to ask them why.

"I would if I could, but they don't show themselves just because I ask. It's been four days now, and I haven't even seen them so far."

"Hmph, I can see them just fine. They heat the air just over there, outside the foyer window."

"Well, I'll ask them later. The letters I have are more important right now."

And Harry turned his attention back to the letters on his kitchen table: two letters from Gringotts, thanking him for taking care of the paperwork so quickly and marking the receipt of it for his own record; the other from Bloodrock detailing a notable increase in investment profits, his astonishment in the Muggle technologies sector, and a report that all assets from the Dumbledore family had been seized to recover lost, stolen, or defaulted item loans, and all necessary interest—a house in Godric's Hollow, a sum total of 256,000 galleons, and a small number of personal and private artifacts of the Dumbledore family, and the deed to one "Hog's Head," which nearly sent Harry into a conniption fit until he read that it was a bar in Hogsmeade, the village outside of Hogwarts Castle. Bloodrock wanted to know if Harry wanted to start eviction proceedings against Dumbledore's younger brother, Aberforth.

Harry quickly penned a reply stating that he did not want to evict anyone at this time.

And another one to the DMLE giving permission to search the house and property for any clues that Dumbledore might have left behind. As soon as he sealed that letter, it disappeared, and he heard a quiet, "Mr. Potter." A crack of apparition sounded next to him, and then sounded again outside his home.

The next letter was a request from the Longbottoms to resume their previous contract on his family's land to grow potion ingredients.

The one below that was a request from the Malfoy family for a similar reason to the Longbottoms.

He responded to both, setting up a date all three could meet and try to come to an agreement, but set it off for the last week of August as he had more things to do.

For now, Harry wanted to do a bit of shopping. The apothecary was having a sale, he knew from a comment Mrs. Weasley had made, and he needed new clothes. He was growing again, and the only clothes he owned that fit him properly now were his school robes.

Later that night, Harry lay in his huge bed in his big, empty apartment, wearing his brand-new pajamas. After the Weasleys left, the silence didn't seem so welcoming anymore. Not to mention, there was a slight niggle in the back of his mind, like a sneeze that wouldn't come, and it was grating on his nerves and preventing him from sleeping.

"Err... guard? I don't know if it's allowed, but you can come out. I can feel you somewhere around me, and I can't sleep."

A black form shifted out of nothing, a mask covering its face and a robe concealing any details of its body. Its voice was also modified, neither masculine nor feminine, not even what you could call a voice, just noise that formed words.

"I apologize, Lord Potter. I was doing the required sweep. I was unaware that you could sense magic. The ability is quite rare."

"Yes, it's getting stronger as I grow. Anyway, I know you're not supposed to speak to me or reveal yourself, but I won't tell if you don't. What's your name? Are you always with me or just around this time?"

"I am number 47. Hitwizard 47, and I am only beside you from 8 p.m. till 3 a.m."

"What do you know of me? you're a hitwizard. You know things even the minister doesn't."

"Hmm, it is not my place, Lord Potter, but if it were, I'd say that the Department of Mysteries has something that would interest you. And only you can get to it." And the Hit-Wizard dissolved back into shadow.

"Hmmph," Harry thought, but the mage must have backed away from Harry as the sensation of being watched receded and ceased after a few seconds. Harry was asleep, dreaming of a sunny field, a black lake, and Hermione. They sat together, talking of things he couldn't understand. He could see as if he were walking around his own dreamscape while his body sat talking to Hermione. They were older, taller, and something must have happened to dream Harry. He had a cut down the left side of his face, over his eye that was closed. But Harry moved his focus into the burning green of his own other iris and plunged into the deep black mass at its center. On and on he flew through the pitch darkness, and in the back of his mind, in the deepest recesses of his consciousness, he heard once again a haunting tune, a lilting cadence, half-heard, half-forgotten, that filled his heart with joy and love.

a tune he knew he had heard before but had forgotten.

a lullaby

a cradle song.

And the gentle voice hummed him through the void and into a soothing oblivion.

Chapter Text

Harry stood at the center of a closed and sealed set of wrought iron gates. The bars, made to look like vines, were so twisted and convoluted that even Harry's eyes, trained as they were with the precision of a Seeker, had trouble following one vine through the gate. This gate was all that separated him from his ancestral home. The Tonkses, the Grangers, and Ron were there, just behind him, waiting patiently for him to open the gate.

All he needed to do was reach out and grab a leafy handle, according to the small book that Harry had received inside the folder that Bloodrock had given him. Yet he couldn't; his arms were weighed down by the enormity of his family legacy that was crushing his shoulders. His back unconsciously scrunched to better hold the weight that had now long held him in place.

The gate was out of place, a random centuries-old wall holding in a long-forgotten field. No house or hall was visible. If Andromeda hadn't told him about property privacy charms, he would have assumed that the hall had collapsed on itself.

He felt something grab his hand, and it jolted him from tracing the vines on the gate to stare at the pale skin and skinny hand gripping his own. He followed the arm up and up until he met the smiling face of Hermione. He breathed out—he hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath—and felt time and the world catch up to him. Meeting her eyes, he saw a silent assurance in them.

"Right then, here we go."

Harry reached out again and grabbed both handles of the gate.

It came to life. The dull wrought iron of the gate gained the bright, vibrant green of enameled porcelain. The detailed flowers became white roses and lilies, and the vines all came together, growing closer to each other and opening a path big enough for a large carriage to pass through unmolested.

Harry wondered what the vines would have done had someone else grabbed those handles. He looked back at Hermione and saw the same question in her eyes.

"Go on, Harry," Andromeda said.

"Once you're on the property, the wards should recognise you as a potter and give you clearance to allow us in. Then, just say you welcome us and call out our names, and that should do it. We can rearrange the ward books when we get in."

Harry, with Smara on his shoulder staring off in the direction from which they came, walked onto his property, the familiar bond recognizing Smara as one with him.

"I welcome Andromeda Tonks, Ted Tonks, Dora Tonks, Daniel Granger, Emma Granger, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley."

One by one, they entered the grounds until Ron stopped mid-step.

"Harry, you forgot about Scabbers."

"Oh, right, and I welcome Scabbers the rat, so long as he doesn't chew my curtains," Harry said jovially, wiggling a finger at the rodent sitting on Ron's shoulder.

Smara flicked her tongue at the rodent, who had begun to shake in fear of the large snake staring at it.

As they all walked up the long drive, with still no house in sight, Smara got Harry's attention.

"Something is not right about that rat. I thought I smelled something off about him at Hogwarts, but that place is so stuffed full of unruly teenage hormones that it's hard to tell."

"What do you mean? Is something wrong with Scabbers?"

"I don't know, young one, but it's familiar. I shall watch it for a time. Never mind about it for now."

"Okay, why is there still no house?" Harry asked the group.

"I would suggest reading the book and seeing if there is an additional passphrase," said Ted Tonks helpfully.

Harry skimmed through a few pages before, "A-ha! All right, everyone, listen up.

"The ancestral seat of the Potters lies inside the Flower Gate and atop the Hill of the Black stone."

And with that, the hall came into view, like a great curtain made of sky lifting from the massive estate.

It sat at the top of a large, domed hill whose top had apparently been removed, as it was flat. The hall itself was massive, with four floors and glittering windows. It stood in a "U" shape, with large wings reaching out to form a large and ornate courtyard. A parapet lined the roof, and a person was obviously able to walk to the roof and defend against attacks, but that was the last reminder of the true medieval age of the building. The facade had been redone into a Renaissance mansion, with gleaming white stones, pale blue accents, columns, and pillars decorating the windows. A symmetrical design adorned both large wings, with huge glass panes to let in the most natural light possible.

And with a resounding CRACK, four house elves popped into existence in front of them all, bowing to Harry before the oldest-looking elf stood to address the group, but more specifically, Harry.

"Welcome home, Lord Potter, Master. Welcome to Pottermore, or Blackstone Hall, named for the hill it was built on. We have been waiting for you to come here for a long time. What is it you need?"

"It's very good to meet you all. First order of business, I would like to know your names, and err what exactly are you."

" I be toppy, master, And we is the potter family house elfs" said the elf that had spoken for the group.

"This is Tappy, my mate," he said, indicating a skinny elf with a short nose but very long ears that stood nearly straight up and brilliant, fire-red eyes.

"This is Maud," Toppy said, pointing out an elf that appeared middle-aged, kind of grizzled and sunworn. He had short ears, so short they appeared docked, and a drooping, fat nose.

"And this is Tappy and I's son. He was born after Master James was killed, and thus he has no name, but we call him Tuppy in the meantime."

"You can't name your own children?" Harry said incredulously.

"Oh, no sir, no, no, we've had permission from Master Jamie, but after his death, all orders are rescinded, Master. New master, new orders. That is protocol. The master normally names or agrees with a proposed name from the house elves."

"Okay, well, I suppose if you like the name Tuppy, then he can be Tuppy. But you can all name yourselves whatever you like, all right? I've never had house-elves, so I'm not going to control every move you make. In fact, are there any books about house-elves here? I need to know the rules. And why are you calling me 'master'? Are you servants? Do you receive payment from my family?"

"There is a book in Lord Potter's office, 'House Elves, Rights, Culture, and Authority,' that will tell you all there is to know. We serve wizarding families, but we," he indicates the elves around him, "serve the Potter family. We do not get a paying master. We do not want a paying mistress; Lily tried and only stopped when Tappy had a breakdown. Paying is insulting. We receive magic in return for service. We are happy to serve."

Harry looked around. The other wizards were nodding at him, but like himself, the Grangers all looked appalled.

"Alright, I'll reserve judgment on that for now, but if you all are sick, tired, or just fancy a nap, I want you to take the day off. You don't need to work every second of the day. The house looks very well-kept, thank you for all your hard work. Is there a way I can, I don't know, tip you or give you extra magic?"

"Yes, sir, but I do not know how it would be in the book, sir. If you would like, sir, we can give you a tour now."

"Yes, please, Toppy. That would be great."

"This is Blackstone Hall, Pottermore, as Master Fleamont called it when I was a young elf of 38," Toppy said with a wide gesture. "The hall is, to date, 963 years old. It has been remodeled many times; the last major remodel was in 1495 during the period known as the Renaissance by Muggles and the Great Renewal by the magical world. The manor is built on a ley line and is situated on true north per the time of construction. The east wing is known as the Parliament. It is a speaking and teaching hall meant to hold gatherings and lectures. It is also the formal dining and dancing hall, depending on the layout you need."

The West Wing is known on the Occulary. It holds the Potter Family Library, a large astronomical telescope, and an exceptional Orrery and Lunarscope as well in the sub-floors.

"What's an Orrery?" started Harry, but was cut off by Hermione.

"An orrery is a room dedicated to modeling the solar system, if not an entire galaxy! I thought there were only two in all of the United Kingdom! The Ministry has one, obviously, but Hogwarts' astronomy tower is the first orrery ever built in the UK. That the Potter family has one for private use just shows how wealthy and old your family actually is!"

"True," said Toppy, "wizards and witches were coming over very frequently in the past to use the room, as Hogwarts isn't as good, and the Ministry doesn't let the public use theirs. But it was most likely forgotten when the war wards were put up and activated the Fidelius around the hall."

"How big is the library?" asked Hermione.

"Large by all measures, Mistress Herminy. The Potter family has been collecting books, tomes, and scrolls for the entire history of this hall, and before them, the Peverells did the same. The oldest scrolls in the collection date back to the Great Library of Alexandria." When Harry looked at her, he saw that Hermione was nearly drooling.

"Comes we can enter through the ballroom," said Muad in a gruff tone.

"I am the keeper of this wing and the gardens surrounding it, as well as the courtyard that I will show you later." The sour little elf snapped her fingers, and the double doors opened gently and silently. As they entered, they saw great, ornate walls two and a half stories tall, painted ivory with gold accents. The floor was a gleaming, polished wooden mosaic made of light and dark oak, the design too big for Harry to see from where he was standing. The few pieces of posh furniture were the same powder blue as the roof tiles and accents on the outside. Surrounding the great floor was a metal grating with holes leading down into a dark abyss.

This room was my lady Doreas's first child. She lavished her attention on it, rebuilding it from the ground up. The hanging art pieces and portraits are of historical or significant figures in your family's history. The sitting chairs and tables she designed herself. The metal grates along the edge I've seen you looking into, Master Potter, lead down to a small subfloor where lies an entire enchanted orchestra as well as lighting that fills the chamber after the sun sets with a warm glow bright enough to dance to and to "set the mood," as she said. My lady was fond of dancing and did it frequently until her passing. The group was floored by the wonder and magisterial beauty on display in this room alone. Even Andromeda, who had remembered the various events she had attended here in her youth, was awestruck. Harry understood why the elves started the tour here. It definitely set a tone.

"Who cares for and tunes the instruments? And how do humans get down there?" asked Harry and Hermione together. Ron could be seen touching the gold inlaid into the wooden decoration of the walls with a slack jaw.

"In the past, my lord hired a wizard to come and tune the orchestra. But for the last two decades, it has been my responsibility, master."

"Mistress Herminy, there is a door at the end of a hall in the sub-basement. We will need to hire wizards for that, as there are some pests down there that we elves are not capable of dealing with. If the wards restarting, don't fry the foul beasties." Muad directed the end of her sentence to Harry.

"I'll add it to the list. Thank you."

As they carried on, they were shown the base of the hall. The first floor was comprised of a large kitchen, a large formal dining area, and a small and cozy family dining area, a small gallery full of both Muggle and magical paintings and portraits, all of which woke up and greeted Harry as he approached them but swiftly went back to sleep when he backed away from them, a choice by the portraits themselves as one, Lilith Potter, said, "It is dreadfully dull being a portrait in an empty house, and the older portraits don't have nearly the same level of brains as we more modern ones do." To finish off the first floor was an actual armory full of swords, shields, suits of armor, and loose bits of equipment like a single vambrace that had a wand holster attached and when worn could conjure an iron shield, at least according to the tag. It was also broken; a large round chunk had been taken out of it at the Battle of Waterloo. All weapons, armor, and equipment had a tag or even some, a book detailing the abilities and history of the piece.

The second floor was reserved for bedrooms of extended or non-family members. The third floor was for bedrooms of family members. There were four large bedrooms on the floor separated by a hallway and door. To Harry's great surprise, there were two rooms finished with more personal touches. One was obviously his father's room. Family photos were scattered hither and thither on the walls, love notes and poems scattered on the desk. The room itself was done up with warm browns and cool blues. There were plenty of advanced Transfiguration books on the shelves and a large, half-finished map of Hogwarts pinned to the wall. The map itself was odd; footsteps kept disappearing and reappearing with jumbled-up name tags labeled nonsense like "migceter mstoginal" or "eepsv." The map had a simple title of "MMV2" written on an unused corner. Harry spent a long time here going through things with his friends. Hermione found the love notes to Harry's mother sweet. Ron found them disgusting but was distracted immediately by the presence of a seemingly brand-new Comet 150, which was summarily gifted to Ron. Harry was certain his father would like to see the broom be used more so than as a museum piece.

The other bedroom mystery was cleared up by Andromeda.

"This must have been Sirius' room after he ran off from Aunt Walburga. He stayed with the Potters after that."

The room itself seemed purpose-built to display his differences from his birth family. The reds and golds of Gryffindor, Andromeda pointed out, were a stark contrast to the Slytherin-only family and the posters of scantily clad Muggle women riding motorcycles plastered on every available surface.

"I say! This is hardly appropriate for children our age to be seeing." Ron was drooling and radish-red faced. Harry, agreeing with Hermione, fled the room almost as soon as he entered it. The door then closed and locked.

"One day, Andromeda, you're going to have to tell me more about this Sirius Black. He comes up a lot when people talk about my dad." She nods silently in return, and on they went to the fourth floor, which housed the master suite. It was arranged east to west, with a large, decadent bathroom/sauna with a magical variation of a whirlpool tub, if not a full-on magical hot tub with jets and seats. There was also a walk-in shower with a large, spacious bench built into it. The tiles of the shower were noted to have sticky charms built in to prevent slips and falls. Just on the other side of the wall lay the master bedroom, with a truly enormous mattress ensconced in a resplendent four-poster bed with royal purple hangings. The entire room was decorated in gold and purples ranging from lush to lavender. Outside of that was an informal sitting area with a small, stocked bar. The elves all snapped at once, and the bottles and decanters disappeared. "Until Master is older." On the far end were two separate offices that didn't hold much meaning or use for Harry at the moment.

The group then made its way down, down, down into the West Wing to the glory that was the Potter Family Library.

Books.

So many books and scrolls that Harry very quickly realized that he could read a book every day for the rest of his life and never finish reading all of them.

Books on charms, transfiguration, tomes of defensive magic, scrolls detailing alchemical processes, arithmetical equations, books on every creature known and theorized to exist, both now and in the past, both living and extinct. Books upon books upon scrolls upon pages of plants and fungi, both magical and mundane. So many books that the first thing you see when you enter is an index, a massive magical book that can display the location of every book in any number of topics. The book itself was nearly a foot thick.

This room sent Hermione into a state of euphoric shock so strong she had to sit down. The library was the sole domain of Tappy. She gave the whole group of them a stern talking-to about the rules of her library.

"There must be no mistreating Tappy's books! When you are done reading, place the book on the center table, and I will replace it. If a book is damaged beyond repair in your hands, then you will replace it, or Tappy shall take your fingers! There will be no eating and only water allowed in my library. Some books are ancient. If a book is in need of repair, you must call Tappy for repair. No magic is allowed in my library, not even a repair charm! If you disobey, you will be gone and never come back!"

Harry understood that Tappy was the master here, the chief, the great warrior goddess of her domain. He would make it a point never to anger her. They stayed there in the library while the elves disappeared for a time to prepare lunch for their master and his guests.

Everyone was perusing the shelves. Dan and Emma were reading journals on healing. Hermione had a thick tome that appeared to be several hundred years old. As it was in French, Harry couldn't read it, but it was apparently a "cookbook" for alchemical formulations written by Nicolas Flamel himself. Andromeda was going through the stacks and perusing seemingly random books for a chapter or two before moving on. Ted had found a trove of old scrolls from the formation of the Wizards' Council that he said he would need to read more closely, as they could have wide-reaching effects forgotten by today's laws. Even Ron couldn't resist. He had gone to the index and found an entire section on basic room enchanting: "How to Make and Improve Your Own Flying Broomstick" by Albie Weekes. According to the portrait of Cuthbert Potter, he attended Hogwarts with Albie Weekes, who was apparently an errant nut job who had been arrested after bribing a student to test illegal broom modifications. The book was good and helpful, though, by all accounts.

"Mate, we've got to try this stuff out one day. We could make a killing selling a broom personally designed by the Boy Who Lived, youngest Seeker in a century, and all that." Harry stared awkwardly; he was uncomfortable merchandising his celebrity even more than he was uncomfortable being a celebrity. "I'll think about it, Ron, but we won't be doing stuff like enchantments for a long time."

A short time later, the elves came back and escorted the group to the east wing and up a flight of steps that led into a dark oak lounge. A long bar, now barren of liquor, and a few dozen small tables and chairs were quickly transfigured by Ted and Andromeda to become one large round table that they all sat around. The same metal grating was around the edge of this floor, and for the first time, Harry heard the music. It was soft and quiet, just right for you to hear it but not get in the way of conversation where they were, but Harry assumed it was at a comfortable volume below them to dance to. The house elves popped out with garden-fresh salads, warm toasted club sandwiches, and tea. Of course, three tea services were scattered about the table.

Toppy was explaining this room as if he had explained all the others. "This lounge was a favorite spot of your grandfather, Master Charlus, much like the room below was your grandmother's favorite. This was where he stayed and worked out many a business deal—a departure from the tradition that most private business deals were negotiated in the master suite. My father used to tend to the bar in this room, but he passed on not three years after Lord Jamie and Mistress Lilly, so it is my duty now."

"I'm sorry to hear about your loss. I'm sure he was as good an elf as you are," said Harry.

"Oh, thank you, sir, thank you!" cried Toppy.

Then, Tuppy spoke up for the group for the first time. "Would you care to see the groundsmaster?"

"Hmm, unless there is something you want me to see, you can just tell me about them."

"Yes, sir! I think you would do well to see the courtyard gardens and the rear gardens.I help missy muadcare for thems.

At the rear of the main house, opposite the main entry, are two grow houses. They have sat empty for years. Towards the rear of the grounds is a full-sized Quidditch pitch that was built for your father. Surrounding the hall on three sides are just over sixteen square kilometers of verdant fields used for growing food, herbs, and most of all, potion ingredients. These fields have grown wild, and many magical plants have overgrown. To the west, there is an entire colony of mandrakes that have grown so large and old that their cries can be heard even here. We have the area under a silencing spell.

"Sixteen kilometres! That's enormous!" exclaimed Harry, astounded.

"Oh my, I don't know anything about business or negotiating, let alone have the expertise to arrange huge clean-up jobs like this, Ted. Could I hire you to sort this stuff out for me?"

"You could, but I'm a criminal lawyer. But you have another who was raised in this stuff their whole life," said Ted Tonks.

"What, really—who?" asked Harry.

"Me," replied Andromeda coolly. "I was raised to be the perfect pureblood wife from the time I could walk. That includes negotiating on my future husband's behalf. You could hire me as your house steward."

Hermione was once again staring at Andromeda with glaring admiration, soaking in her words and bearing. As the conversation continued, the older woman was everything her friend had wanted to be when she was an adult.

"Well, you've got the job, then, if you want it. But won't that take you away from your healing?"

"It would in the future, but not right away. By then, we can most likely find a worthy candidate for a permanent posting. Although I understand you already have a meeting between yourself, Madam Longbottom, and Lord Malfoy, I ask that you attend. I will send you letters while you are at school to ask your opinion on anything that comes up."

"And what about the salary? What would be fair compensation for your time?" asked Harry.

"Ten galleons a day should suffice—half my salary as a Healer."

"Deal!" Harry said with a bright smile. "As long as I don't have to worry about too many details, I'm fine."

As everyone finished eating and their group lunch drew to a close, they walked around more to the rear greenhouses, the beautifully maintained courtyard garden, and strolled on the parapet on the roof, where they could see a good portion of the surrounding grounds, including the distant Quidditch pitch. The elves showed them hidden passages, little nooks made for hiding away and relaxing—like a tiny reading room built under the third-floor stairwell with an enchanted window that held a beautiful beach scene glowing in a midday sun to ease your reading in the single, solitary, puffy armchair. And then the tour ended abruptly in the center of the solid stone floor of the basement dueling room as Toppy spoke up.

"I do not wish to be rude to my masters' guests, but the master must attend to the wards, and for you all to be safe from any unintentional harm, you must all leave."

"But what—" began Hermione before the elf cut her off.

"Fret not, Mistress Herminy, we will care for master in your stead. We will not let him come to harm, or we would not be good house elves, but this is something the master must do alone. He can not enter the sanctuary while you are on the grounds.

And so, Harry found himself, two hours later, reading a book for Lord Potter with simple instructions to take over full control of the wards' blood wards—actual blood wards, not just wards that respond to the genealogy of the owner. These wards are made of, powered by, and controlled from the blood of the master of the ward stone. Only the oldest families with the oldest dwelling places have these wards, as they are now illegal to place due to the invaluable sacrifice given to fire them for the first time.

A willing human sacrifice—in this case, the great-grandchild of Linfred of Stinchcombe, the first potter—Garland Potter gave what was left of his life on his deathbed after a rival house raided the land and mortally wounded him to first fuel and fire the wards.

Harry approached the hidden gate to the sanctuary, his skyclad form shivering in response to his nerves as he called out, "Permitte mihi novum magistrum huius aulae introitum hoc sacrarium." The wall opened, and hidden steps descended deep into the ground—a narrow spiral staircase that felt like it went on for miles, lit only by magical torches that shone with a ghostly, pale blue light. The blue light continued until the staircase ended and the light became purple, infected with the horrible ethereal red glow emanating from a large grapefruit-sized stone that spun around in mid-air, surrounded by a spiraling confluence of red and black energy. On the floor under the stone was a dagger made of what Harry knew to be human bone. Not wanting to extend his time there, he collected the bone dagger, cut his right palm, and with a second of trepidation because the book did not describe what happened after this part, placed his bleeding palm on the rotating stone.

He could feel everything, sense everything, see everything within his domain, this long-held fiefdom of his blood. All the Lord Potters that had been screamed out through the past and greeted him as a pulse of pure magic shot out in all directions, a wall of blood fire that burned away anything that was not of the Potters.

He was everything. He was nothing. He was the Potters. Harry James Potter turned; his hand healed, he walked unseeing, unknowing, back up the passage from whence he had come. As he exited the sanctuary with blank, sightless eyes, he collapsed to the ground. His house-elves came to him, bowing deeply, all with sad and forlorn expressions, and teleported their master to his new bed, where he would remain sleeping in a once-again locked-down house for five days, dreaming of his family, his friends, and his enemies. He walked through the fields under the care of a mother goddess, speaking unheard words to his mother, who laughed, soaring through the unending skies with his father and Ron, and delving into unknowable knowledge with Hermione. And, as it seemed after an eternity of sleep, he simply floated through a field of empty, black stars, humming a forgotten tune into the void.

Chapter Text

Harry opened his eyes slowly; he had no idea how long he had been asleep, but his entire body ached. He moved and sat up slowly, and a soft pop alerted him to the arrival of a house-elf.

Toppy, the elf, stood at the foot of his bed, wringing the loose toga that he wore in worry.

"It be a hard price the Lord Potter pays to secure our home, Master. I is sorry Ize did not warn you of it, sir, but it was necessary for the protection of our home."

"It—" Harry's voice cracked painfully from being dry and unused, and the elf snapped in a glass of cold, fresh water, which Harry immediately drank.

"It's fine, Toppy. My body isn't used to being still for so long, so I'm sore, but other than that, I'm alright. How long has it been? It feels like a long time."

"It has been four days, sir. We have cared for you since you emerged from the sanctum. I has two potions for you, sir, one for the pain and the other is a general healing potion that will help your muscles recover from atrophy, sir, make you not so stiff" Tappy popped in and placed the two potions on the table next to Harry's bed. Harry sat up and drank them down in the next few minutes.

"The wards have been raised again to protect you from harm while you were recovering. You will need to use the ward book in the master's office to fix the ward level and allow back any and all friends. Any previous allowances have been removed by the restructuring of the wards, burned away by their fire. All pests have also been removed five boggarts were removed from the basement, and four doxie colonies were burned away. Their mess has already been repaired and cleaned."

It was several hours later that a showered, laundered, and fed Harry Potter stumbled out of the Floo from Blackstone Hall and into his sitting room in the furnace. He had told the house-elves that this was his main residence and that they were more than welcome to come and spruce the place up, something they hadn't been able to do until he lowered the war wards on Blackstone Hall that prevented them from leaving.

Toppy informed him that the four elves would be jumping around, fixing up the eight other Potter properties. He also said that if they needed help with pests, they would contact him. Once that was done, one of the elves would stop by and care for their master's new home.

Harry didn't expect to see them until he was off to Hogwarts.

Once again, on his table was a slightly larger collection of letters that his hidden guards must have collected and examined, along with two copies of the newspaper "The Daily Prophet."

There were six letters.

One, from Daphne Greengrass, surprisingly, that,among other things, was simply asking after him.

Another letter from the manager of the potions shop he now owned in Diagon Alley, noting a 20 percent uptake in customers now that "the boy who lived, Harry Potter" was supplying the shop with "Potter family recipes" and asking that he actually do that as they were legendary in the potions field.

One letter from the Ministry noting the restructuring of the Potter wards and asking to be allowed to examine them for weaknesses as part of his protection detail. Which he subsequently denied; the wards were enough on their own to protect him, and the Lord's book had warned not to let anyone not of the family snoop around them.

The booklist for Hogwarts finally arrived, a week and a half before school. They were cutting it close this year. It also listed McGonagall as Headmistress.

One from Hermione asking if he was all right and if she can come over this week and spend time with him or vice versa.

And one from Ted's Law Office with a receipt for payment that must have finally gotten transferred through Gringotts.

The Daily Prophet had two notes, one from the Tonks family and one from the Weasleys.

Upon opening the one from Tonks, Harry read the headline.

"MINISTRY EMPLOYEE AND NIECE FOUND.

Early on Wednesday morning, the missing Amelia Bones and her niece were found and rescued from a property belonging to Elphias Doge, a long standing friend and supporter of Albus Dumbledore, who claimed to have kidnapped and killed the two in a public display of madness last week. They were found once the DMLE was given permission to raid the properties of Doge, who was killed by Aurors in the confrontation between a group led by Dumbledore and the Boy Who Lived. Both women are expected to make a full recovery.”

Harry was elated as he read. He didn't know Susan very well, but he thought very highly of Amelia Bones and was very pleased to see that they were both all right.

The other copy from the Weasleys was also good news and answered a question from his Hogwarts letter.

“With Albus Dumbledore's flight into criminality, a new headmaster was sought, and amid a string of recommendations, Minerva McGonagall was appointed head mistress. Her schedule is now too busy running the most important institute of education in our nation, it comes as no surprise that Minerva McGonagall has stepped down from her long-time role as mistress of transfiguration.

Who could replace her as a professor in what is arguably the most difficult, dangerous, and important subject taught at Hogwarts? Molly Weasley has been appointed to this role. See pages 8-9 for interviews with Minerva McGonagall and to see Molly Weasley's qualifications.”

At this, Harry was very excited. He had only just met Mrs. Weasley, but he felt she would be a fantastic teacher—with any kid that wasn't hers, at least.

‘Poor Fred and George. Well, I might as well see if Hermione wants to go school shopping with me.’ Thought Harry happily.

And so it was, three hours later at 2:00 p.m., that Harry and the Grangers found themselves in a tightly packed Flourish and Blotts, where a famous wizard was having a book signing. It was the same wizard who had written the entire Defense booklist. As they got in line, they caught sight of the Weasleys further up the queue as some loud scuffle broke out between two men who could only be Mr. Weasley and Lord Malfoy. The place was so packed, however, that they couldn't get much closer. The elder Malfoy stormed off, and the author, a man named Gilderoy Lockhart, could be seen bouncing up and down in excitement, although Harry and the Grangers were too far away to hear him. The Weasleys got their books signed and left after a short chat with Harry and Hermione, as they were still waiting. But when it finally came time for Hermione to get her books signed, Harry couldn't be bothered either way and was simply keeping his friend company. Lockhart signed her books with a lot of smiles and flourished quill strokes, as he looked at Harry, he did a double-take, and his eyes scanned Harry's forehead.

"It couldn't be! Harry Potter himself, here to buy my books and get a signed copy of my autobiography, "Magical Me." Come around here, Harry, let's have one together for the Prophet, and you can have your copy as a personal gift from me!" He pulled Harry around the table, and by the connection of their hands, Harry pulled Hermione with him.

"A big smile, Harry! Together, you, your lovely friend, and I will be enough to make the front page!" Gilderoy Lockhart shouted while beaming and pulling Hermione over to his other side. She was beaming as well and waving to the camera, so he smiled his best and tried to match Hermione's waving energy. As a flash brightened the room for a second and it was followed by a giant puff of smoke that made several people cough loudly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement I've been sitting on! Harry and his friend here came to get a signed copy of my autobiography, "Magical Me," but little did they know that they would soon be getting the "real" magical me! That's right, this September I will be stepping into the hallowed halls of Hogwarts to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts!" Gilderoy Lockhart commanded the room with a lot of pompous flair that struck Harry the wrong way, eliciting a scowl from the young man. More smiles and more waves to the camera. Harry and Hermione were both gifted signed copies of the autobiography with a signature in golden ink that he apparently saves for special addressees.

With that circus out of the way, and it now being near dinnertime, Harry and Hermione returned to his flat for Harry to cook for the two of them. But when he stepped into his kitchen, he saw Tappy placing two fully cooked meals of steak, asparagus, and baked potatoes, with a bowl full of salad, on the table. The elf straightened up and bowed before popping away.

"Wow, great service! Er, thankyou Tappy." Harry smiled before the elf popped away.

"At least you appreciate them. I've been talking to wizards and reading books, and apparently, some—or I'd say most—wizards treat house-elves lesser than dirt. It's absolutely sickening, but yours seem happy, so I guess that's a positive."

"Perhaps I can use my Wizengamot seat to push for better laws surrounding house-elf treatment?"

"It's a good idea, but you know the wizarding world. It'll be an uphill battle." Hermione said contemplatively while eating her steak. "you know I wonder how Tappy knows how I like my steak."

"'CRACK!' Tappy appeared. "It is our job to serve, Mistress Herminy." To please my master's friend, I asked those who would know better than I." And then she disappeared with a mischievous grin.

"I wonder who she asked," Hermione said with concern in her voice.

"Your parents, I would imagine."

"Oooh! Yes, you're probably right. I'll have to ask them."

They continued with their meal, and Harry learned that Hermione eats salad after her steak. Apparently, it was better for your teeth to eat in that order.

"You know, I was never one for watching the tele, but I wonder if I can get one to work here. This building is on the outskirts of the alley, so the ambient magic won't be so strong, but maybe the wards will mess with it."

"It would be nice to watch a movie after dinner, although I suppose we can just pop over to mine for that. The Knight Bus shouldn't take that long." The two teens did just that, spending the rest of the afternoon and evening watching a few movies from the Grangers' collection of VHSs. And it was only when Harry stepped into his flat, alone and tired, that his troop of elves popped in, carrying another elf—a restrained elf trussed up like a roast pig, complete with a large red apple shoved into its mouth.

The elf was pale and emaciated, covered in new and old wounds. An absolutely filthy tea towel covered its slight body.

Tuppy straightened up and addressed Harry. "We intercepted this elf trying to break through the wards of this building, Master. He is Dobby and claims to have a dire warning for you, Master."

"Well, let him speak then," said Harry quietly, sitting in a comfortable recliner.

After being released, the elf sat, breathing heavily. "I am Dobby, sir, and as the great Harry Potter's house-elf has said, I am here to make a dire warning! sir." The creature's large, bulbous, green eyes seemed to glow with worry.

"And, er... that would be what, exactly?"

"Oh, sir, dark things are planned this year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Dark and unspeakable things, sir. The great Harry Potter must not go back, sir. He must leave the school where he is safe."

"Dobby, I have to go back to Hogwarts. It's where I belong. After what's happened this year and last year, a little mortal peril isn't going to stop me from going back."

"But you must, sir, you must know that history is to repeat itself once more. You must stay away where it is safe!" The little elf held out his arm to Harry as if to try to save him then and there but flinched in pain as he raised his bony frame. He dropped his arm, limply breathing heavily from the shock of the pain he had just put himself in. "If only you knew, sir, knew how much you mean to us, the beaten down, the enslaved. Sir, dark times, sir, and we house elves were treated like vermin, sir. Dobby is still treated like vermin." The elf's long ears drooped to the floor in his misery.

"Dobby, who did this to you? Who gave you these injuries?"

"Dobby did, sir. Dobby is ordered to punish himself, sir, and if his punishment is not severe enough on its own, then he must punish himself harder, sir. And the master takes his frustrations out on Dobby as well, sir."

"Is there anything we can do to help you, Dobby?"

"Don't go back, sir—" 'POP!' and Dobby Disapparated as if he were called away, which Harry realized he probably was.

"Did he say anything else, Toppy?" Harry asked with great concern for the beaten-down elf.

"Not much, sir, just that he wanted to warn you, sir. He seemed persistent, master. You will see him again should we continue to intercept him for you."

"No, I might be able to weasel some more information from him in the future."

As you say, Master, we are almost done fixing the outer properties, sir. You will not see them or us until your Christmas holidays.” And so went the last of Harry's summer holidays. Hermione would come over most mornings and stay until her parents were off work. Ron would stop by a few times, and the three spent their days laughing and exploring Blackstone manor. Harry found a heated underground swimming pool and spa that had apparently, according to the elves, not been used in nearly 100 years. Andromeda and Harry had the meeting with the Malfoys and Longbottoms and, through several hours of tense negotiations, worked out a contract for the Malfoy family contractors to clear the land of all overgrown magical plants and split the profits 60-40 in favor of the Malfoys. And then the Longbottom family will sow and work the fields from that point onward with a 30-70 split in favor of the Longbottoms. The houses built for the field hands were restored, and his elves quickly and happily agreed to work with and look after the Longbottoms while they were on the property, but not to allow themselves to be mistreated.

It was three days later, on the 31st, that Harry fell asleep in his Diagon Alley home with the Grangers filling the guest rooms, ready for the train ride the next day—back to his first home, back to Hogwarts.

'Knock, knock, knock.'

"Harry! Wake up, will you?" Hermione shouted from behind his bedroom door.

Harry grabbed his wand and cast a quiet Tempus Charm to reveal 8:15 a.m. "We are less than a 20-minute walk to the train station, and they can Floo there if they wanted. Why is she trying to wake me up this early?" groused Harry, flipping himself out of his sheets and comfortably warm bed.

Fifteen minutes later, saw him done with his morning ablutions and glaring at Hermione, who was innocently crunching on a croissant, ignoring him. Dan and Emma were going through the checklists that Emma wrote for both kids, and it caused Hermione to choke when Emma asked if she remembered her "pads," which confused Harry as to why Hermione would need padding or why it was embarrassing. But Harry also knew that girls were confusing sometimes, so he chose not to ask. After all, Harry was equally embarrassed when Emma had asked if he had packed his underwear a minute before.

"So kids, do you want to walk with us to the station, or are you ready to throw yourselves into the fire to get rid of us old fogies?" grinned Dan Granger.

"I think that we're going to Floo," said Hermione. "Walking through London with our school things will raise a lot of eyebrows."

"We thought so as well, dear," said Emma. "We are going to miss you both, Harry. It truly has been wonderful meeting you, despite the trouble with the trial and the madman that's after you. So, you have until ten, and it's only nine. What should we do to fill the time, dear?"

"Breakfast would be fantastic!" giggled Hermione, and almost at once a full-service breakfast table appeared, loaded with everything from roast tomatoes and mushrooms to a plate of American waffles the size of Dan's head, and lots of bacon, sausages, and fresh fruit. The four of them dug in and had a great breakfast together, laughing and swapping stories from the past week: from Harry's negotiations to the Grangers' practice and Hermione's solo trip to Flourish and Blotts, where she encountered her first wizarding romance novel—or as Hermione called it, "a horrendous, lecherous thing involving far too many werewolves." It made the rest of them laugh at her pink face and laugh even harder as she pulled the flimsy paperback from her book, wrapped up as a "parting gift" to her mom.

After that, the Grangers enjoyed the few remaining minutes together before Harry's Tempus Charm displayed a smoky 9:55 a.m., and the two students knew it was time for them to go. Two long, heartfelt hugs for both of them by both of the Grangers, and Harry and Hermione and their luggage tumbled through emerald-green flames, landing in the busy and bustling wizarding section of King's Cross, where they passed the crowd and got onto the train, searching in vain for an empty compartment when, from just behind them, a feminine voice called out, "Potter!" causing them to stop and turn. Harry saw Daphne Greengrass there in the aisle with her hand up to get his attention. "Why don't you and Granger come and sit with me? It's only Tracy sitting with me currently."

Hermione looked at Harry. "Daphne's okay, I told you, but it's up to you, Hermione. If you want to try to find an empty compartment, I'll follow you."

"No, no, I'm sure this will be fine." And then he entered the compartment, greeting Tracy Davis, Daphne's Slytherin friend and the only known half-blood in Slytherin.

"Well, well, Potter and Granger, I never thought Mister and Missus Gryffindor extraordinaire would deign to give us lowly Slytherins their company," said Tracy icily.

Harry narrowed his eyes in response. "Funny, I was about to say the same thing for the ice queen and her preferred snake-skinned jester." Hermione looked nervous at this exchange.

"Now, Harry, just because—" Hermione started but was cut off by Tracy laughing.

"Oh, you're right, Daphne, he is rather funny! You'll do, Potter, you both may stay," said Tracy, relaxing into the cushion behind her. Right then, a troop of red-haired kids passed by the window, and Ron stopped, but seeing who Harry had as company, scowled and marched on and had disappeared into the crowd by the time Harry could open the compartment door.

"Forget it, Harry," said Hermione. "You know how Ron is; he'll probably come 'round by midday, you'll see."

"Yeah," said Harry, frowning at the crown before moving to sit next to Hermione.

The next few hours were spent by the four talking, getting to know each other as four new friends might, speculating on the coming year, the new teachers, and Daphne and Tracy asking Harry endless, speculative questions about Dumbledore—his reasons, his motives, things Harry nor anyone else aside from the old goat himself could really answer. And the time was also spent with the three girls talking about girl things in a way Harry could not follow, although he got the gist that they were comparing how witches and Muggle women handle some annoying event. It went over Harry's head. All this went on until, true to Hermione's prediction, Ron knocked on the door not five minutes after twelve o'clock.

They opened the door in response to the redhead's knock, and surprisingly, Tracy was the one to speak up in a friendly and teasing tone. "Here's Ron, how are you? Come to apologize for being a prat, then?"

"Err, yeah, I reckon I am then." The redhead seemed not to know how to handle Tracy's friendly demeanor.

"Right then, Weasley, get to it then. Daphne and I do need to use the loo, so excuse us." And the two girls quickly left the compartment.

"Right, erm, sorry, then, err, why are you all holding up with a couple of snakes anyway?" asked Ron.

"Oh, they're not so bad, those two, at least you won't catch me getting buddy-buddy with Malfoy or his lot. But Daphne's dad helped me a lot with the emancipation. I'm thinking of using his export business when the new crops are ready for harvest."

Ron suddenly perked up. "Hey, speaking of snakes, where the ruddy hell is Smara?" he asked, looking around.

Harry pointed to the trunk on the luggage rack that was currently casting a shadow over them as their tops were fully in the midday sun. “Up there, basking, she pigged out on four full-sized cavies. She's been pretty much comatose for two days now, the pathetic thing.”

A half-hearted hiss could be heard from the tops of the trunks.

"What did she say?" asked Ron quickly, causing Harry to shrug.

"Sometimes, a hiss is just a hiss."

The girls came back shortly after that, and the three Gryffindors and two Slytherins had a fun time comparing the other people in their houses. From Wood and Flint being Quidditch-obsessed nutbars to Daphne and Hermione for both being the true Ravenclaws hiding among them. Eventually, even Ron, awkward at first, opened up and began having fun with the discussions. Until shortly before they arrived at Hogwarts, a familiar head of blond hair threw open the door to their compartment and sneered at the three Gryffindors. With the usual human boulders as a backdrop, the blond ponce strode into the compartment.

"Well, Potter, when I heard you'd taken over your family's business early, I thought you'd grown some brains, especially since you and my father are doing business together. But I see you're still hanging around with the dirty riffraff that's taken to polluting our society."

"Those are three insults, Malfoy—three that you get for free. If I hear one more from that gaping chasm you call a mouth, I will rescind my contract with your family and give it to the Longbottoms."

"You can't do that. My father showed me that contract. If you back out, you'll have to pay us three times the amount of the estimated profit," Malfoy said in his annoying faux superior tone.

"Then I suggest, Malfoy, that you read that contract again, or have someone read it for you since I doubt you can do even that by yourself. It states very clearly that if any in-house Malfoy insults the House of Potter, the Lord Potter, or any person deemed to be under the protection of the Lord Potter, which these two are, by the way.” Harry said gesturing to Ron and Hermione. “Then I can call insult and resign from any business deals between our houses. I was very, very careful to put that in there, Malfoy, because I know you can't control your fat mouth, and I thought this would be a good way for you to practice shutting up when it's good for you. Oh, and if I break the contract due to insult, then your family must pay twice the cost for the Potter family to clear it in restitution, But that was in a different section of the contract, and you probably couldn't read that many big words." Malfoy, for once, seemed speechless. Harry thought that Malfoy knew he couldn't risk breaking the contract even if Harry was making up what he said, which he wasn't.

"So, Malfoy, it looks like your daddy didn't show you anything, only told you the basic outlook of the deal, so it looks like he doesn't trust you to read contracts on your own. Now, leave before you make a bigger fool of yourself." And surprisingly, Malfoy wordlessly stormed off, knocking people out of his way as he left. Harry sat down, breathing heavily through sheer irritation. The four other occupants of the compartment looked at him with worry.

"I'm not taking any crap from Malfoy ever again. I'm the lord of an ancient and noble house, and he's a third-rate daddy's boy who barely rates as an heir. In fact, has he ever been called one before?" said Harry, his breathing settling as he spoke.

"He is technically the heir of the 'noble' House of Malfoy, but that's just because he is the only child of his parents. His father has not granted him the official title yet," explained Daphne in a clinical voice. "He only holds so much power in Slytherin because his family is extremely wealthy, and the children are afraid of making the Malfoy family angry and retaliating against theirs financially."

"His whole family is more rotten than pond scum," blurted out Ron angrily before changing the subject. "So, do you think they'll start lessons tomorrow? One day of lessons before the weekend doesn't make sense to me."

"They will most likely—yes, if just to hand out the syllabus and talk about the course aims for the year," said Hermione. "But it will most likely be an easy day, except for Binns. I don't think he stops teaching even in the summertime, just drones on day in and day out about whatever giant war or goblin rebellion catches its way through his mind.

As time passed, Harry made further visits to his other friends Neville and the twins, as well as some friends of Daphne and Tracy from Slytherin, who didn't stay long. He even received a visit from Ron's little sister, Ginny, who was, as usual, star-struck by Harry. Harry thought she looked unwell. As they drew closer to Hogwarts, they all donned their Hogwarts robes, and Ron disappeared to the loo to change into his actual Hogwarts uniform to wear under his robes. However, he must have been held up by his brothers because he didn't return. They eventually found him on the platform, standing between his older brothers and giving Ginny a pep talk before she crossed the lake with Hagrid. Then, Harry, Hermione, Daphne, and Tracy bundled themselves into a carriage pulled by a skeletal black dragon-like horse creature.

"What are they?" Harry whispered. The creatures were as frightening as they were beautiful. He reached out and, after letting it smell his hand, began to stroke the creature's furless, well-muscled neck.

"What are you talking about, Harry?" asked Daphne.

"These!" Harry patted the creature on the neck, making a soft smacking noise. Hermione wide eyed approached the monstrous animal circling around scanning it and gently placing a hand on its haunch.

"Oh!" said both girls, but it was Daphne who spoke up. "They must be Thestrals. They're supposedly dark creatures who are only visible to those who have seen death."

"Well, that makes sense. I saw Quirrell die, and thanks to my uncle, I practically shook Death's hand," Harry explained glibly. Not wanting to hold up the line any longer, he climbed into the carriage and offered his hand first to Hermione, then Tracy, and then Daphne, helping all three girls into the carriage. After they all sat down, it began to trundle down the winding dirt track, up the long hill, and across the great stone bridge to the lights and heights of Hogwarts Castle. Harry and Hermione shivered as they passed through the school's ward system.

At this, Smara seemed to stir on Harry's neck. "Be still, morsel. It is hard to nap with you jibbering as well as dancing about at the slightest touch of magic.

"I apologize. Oh, great queen of serpents, I shall endeavor to hold still in the future," Harry said in English for his friends' benefit as he straightened up and locked his entire body into a weird pose for a few seconds before Smara whacked him on the back of his head with her tail, causing Harry to smile.

"You know, I know she's like one of the deadliest creatures in existence, but she truly is a gorgeous animal," said Daphne eyes the pearlescent green Quality of the serpents scales.

A bout of hissing preceded Harry explaining.

"For a hairless monkey, you are not as ugly as one would think either. You belong to my father's house, no?" Daphne nodded. "Then I shall join you tonight. It will do us both good to return to Slytherin grounds, and I can show you something I bet has been lost to time. I know many secrets of this school, as I witnessed its construction."

"That sounds like a plan, Smara. I can't wait. But how will we communicate? I am no parcel mouth," said Daphne.

"A short hiss, followed by Harry saying, 'Don't worry, she can communicate fairly well without words probably takes a minute to understand snake sign language.”

A short time later, Harry and Hermione were found sitting at the Gryffindor table. Harry, bereft of Smara's weight, watched as Smara herself was wrapped around Daphne's shoulders and given the welcome of a queen by the Slytherins. Daphne and Tracy told the Slytherin students the story that Harry had told them of Smara's origins. It seemed that the favor of Salazar Slytherin's own serpent had propelled Daphne into the upper echelons of Slytherin social circles—or perhaps "hierarchy" would be a better word. Harry saw from a distance that Malfoy seemed to be brooding over the loss of his sycophants, and even some teachers came from the High Table to speak to the snake and confirm the rumors most likely. Harry had, after all, had to submit a dangerous familiar form to the school to notarize her allowance into the school. With Professor Babbling's call that the first years had arrived, the crowd dispersed and found seats.

Following the sorting, where Ginny was, of course, sorted into Gryffindor along with a tiny, rather twitchy kid named Colin, and a few other first years, new Headmistress McGonagall stood up at the golden lectern and began to speak.

"I would like to say welcome to Hogwarts to our new first years and welcome back to our returning students." The old familiar intro got an appreciative chuckle from the older students who were more familiar with the traditional start to the welcoming speech, most of whom had wondered if the new head would change it.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! I am Headmistress McGonagall, and as I'm sure you know, this will be my first year heading this school. We will be learning this new chapter together, but for now, I see many tired and hungry faces waiting, so let the feast begin!" And after a short double clap of her hands, mountains of food sprang from the golden plates.

As Harry enjoyed his dinner with polite gusto, he took in the familiar sights and sounds. Pleasant conversations, laughter, Ron getting told off by Percy for trying to impersonate a vacuum. Harry wondered how Percy knew about vacuums, but then he remembered Muggle Studies was a class.

After the last dessert disappeared from the last platter, the new headmistress stood up.

"Now that we have all eaten and had our fill of food and conversation, I have a few start-of-term notices. Firstly, all students, including the older ones, especially the Weasley twins and Mr. Potter, should be aware that the Black Forest on the edge of the grounds is forbidden to all students not accompanied by Professor Sprout or Grounds Keeper Hagrid.

Secondly, our caretaker, Argus Filch, has asked me to reiterate that there is to be no magic in the corridors between lessons. This is to protect the priceless artifacts and artworks that are housed in this school.

Third, as you might assume, we have in fact had some staffing changes, as announced in the Daily Prophet. Gilderoy Lockhart has accepted the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, this announcement was met with loud applause from every house.

As well as Molly Weasley, who will be replacing me as Mistress of Transfiguration, this too brought a small smattering of applause loudest from her children.

Most of you will have not heard, but upon my first day of accepting this position, I called an exorcism, and Professor Cuthbert Bins has been removed and blocked from this school. Replacing him will be Professor William Chambers, a graduate of Ilvermorny Academy of Magic in the United States. And finally, many Gryffindors will be very pleased to hear that Gamekeeper Hagrid is now a probationary professor of care for magical creatures. Professor Kettleburn is retiring at the end of this year, and I know of no other person more knowledgeable about magical creatures than Rubeus Hagrid.

The fourth announcement is that, as we have so many first-time teachers this year, several auditors from the Ministry's Education Commission will be coming in from time to time and checking on these new professors when they are in the building. I expect an even higher level of behavior in this school.

And finally, unlike my predecessor, my office will have an open-door policy. You may simply come to the gargoyle guarding my office and request entry. Of course, during certain times, you will have to set an appointment with your Head of House. But in the main, you may simply come and air whatever may concern you as Headmistress. I am pleased to hear of any concerns you may have. Thank you all. Now, it is quite late enough. Classes have been postponed until Monday the fifth. First years, I suggest you learn the locations of your classes before they start so you don't get lost. Now, off to bed with the lot of you!”

Hermione, Harry, and Ron stood up together to make their way up the long trip of far too many stairs and to Gryffindor Tower. There, after saying goodnight to Hermione and seeing her up the girls' stairs, Harry climbed into his four-poster and was asleep before he even realized it. He dreamt of a small family: a man with messy black hair, a woman with fiery red hair, and a small baby with a messy tuft of hair that sat upon the top of his otherwise bare head. The dad was skipping around the baby, playing a very energetic game of peekaboo which made the baby laugh the clearest and brightest laugh Harry had ever heard—a sweet and innocent belly laugh.

And the night wore on.

Chapter Text

Harry lay in bed before anyone else had awoken in his dormitory room. He lay there in the dark and recalled the school year so far—one month. It had already been one whole month since the start of school, and it was a very different month when compared to his first year's first month of school. He knew where everything was, for one thing. For another, he was enjoying his classes much more this year. The Gryffindors were paired in double periods with the badgers of Hufflepuff this year instead of Slytherin, but apart from that, the classes were much more enjoyable this year, apart from the rather rocky start of Lockhart's first class, where the puffed-up fool let Cornish pixies loose on the second years. After Hermione and Harry had cleaned up the pixies using the Levitation Charm and the Full Body Bind in tandem, Headmistress McGonagall came and gave Lockhart a full dressing-down—behind a closed door, of course, not that it did much to muffle the yelling, or the breaking, or the threats. But after that, and after a full week of McGonagall sitting in his classes, the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were very good and informative. Lockhart had stretched the tales from his books into informative lectures, but it was well done, Harry felt.

Transfiguration had been up to par with McGonagall's standards. Of course, Molly Weasley had training and help from the headmistress herself in designing her lesson plan. Professor Weasley was as strict a disciplinarian as Professor McGonagall had been and tolerated no misbehaving in her class. She had already sent a shame-faced Seamus Finnigan not only out of class but back to the first-year course so "she could teach him how to wave his wand again." He had set fire to her and Neville's hair.

The biggest change, though, was, of course, the history of magic professor, William Chambers, or Professor William, as the young man insisted he be called. He was a young and wild man. Apart from his love of history, he was an avid duelist and had won several dueling championships both in school and while attaining his mastery. He spoke with a thick accent, what he called a Texan drawl, but he was extra sure to enunciate his words so no one had trouble understanding him. His first class was very interesting. He just wanted to get to know his students and had no work for them.

"Howdy, folks. My name is Professor William Chambers, but please, for all that's holy, call me Mister William or, if you must, Professor William. Now, I don't know much about British schooling, but in America, we like to get to know our students, so to that end, we're going to have a little chat today. I don't like my classrooms all stuffy—it's hard to breathe—so we're going to relax, alright? I'll get to know y'all, and y'all will get to know me. Fair?" After taking in their silent nods, the new teacher restarted.

"Well, then, isn't that fine? My name is William Chambers. I graduated five years ago, which makes me twenty-two; that's why I seem so young. I went to Ilvermorny, the finest school of magic in the States. There are about ten of them, but Ilvermorny is the biggest. My passion for history is only outdone by my love of a good fight, which is why I'm a dueling champion in the American circuits. I specialize in Charms and Transfiguration and have a dual mastery in both. My favorite point in history, as most men can attest, is Roman times. There's just something manly about men wearing battle skirts." And he points to a full set of Roman legionnaire armor that Harry knew he had seen somewhere around the school before. After that, he had all the students stand up and introduce themselves, and it went fine until it was Harry's turn.

"Mr. Potter, haven't we all heard of you before? So why don't you tell us something we haven't heard of yet?"

"errrrrrrrrr. ok, well, you know my name already im Harry Potter, something most people and that i want to get a mastery in tranfiguration and be an animagus like Professor McGonagall"

"An Animagus, huh? That's a lofty goal, my friend. Best of luck. I hope it's better than my form," said the professor.

"You're an Animagus!" replied most of the class.

"Of course. I can't go claiming to be something I'm not." And he transformed right there into a large, tan, hairy armadillo and back again.

"See, I love armadillos as much as the next Texan, but I sure don't want to be one."

After that, the classes went on. Potions was its regular self, but when several students once again set complaints against Snape, it didn't take long for her to assign him his own probationary auditor. Apparently, the first potions class was halted until the school procured the necessary safety and sanitation equipment all potions labs need.

After that, classes began to go together: classwork, "homework," essays, research projects, and tests—until Harry woke up on October the fifth and realized that he had already been back at Hogwarts for one whole month.

It's always hard to believe how fast time creeps by.

Today should be rather fun; it was the first meeting of the new Hogwarts lower-year dueling club. Lockhart and Professor Chambers ("Harry and Hermione refused to call the man by his first name") had set up a few separate dueling clubs: second and third years had one, fourth and fifth and sixth had one, and seventh years had their own. So, hours later, after classes, after Lockhart had set another of his weekly research assignments ("I want a two-foot essay on how to properly deal with each of the three species of ghoul. To be turned in next Monday."), and Professor Weasley's essay on the processes for transfiguring wood into metal, and after Snape glared at them while trying to do an almost passable impression of an actual teacher, Hermione, Smara, and Harry had gathered with the rest of the lower-year students who had wanted to participate. He saw Daphne, surprisingly, and, unsurprisingly, Seamus Finnegan, but also all of the Slytherin boys and most of the year, both male and female, from Hufflepuff, had shown up. The rest of the crowd was made up of third years from the various houses.

Professors Lockhart and Chambers were now standing on a raised dueling platform decorated with a lunar cycle. Shortly after the six o'clock start time, Lockhart began to address the crowd.

"Hello, good evening. Can everyone hear me? Can you all see me? Excellent, most excellent. I would like to welcome you to this first meeting of the second- and third-year-level Hogwarts Dueling Club. William here and I were chatting not long ago and were both saying how sad we were that there was no dueling at Hogwarts. So I took it upon myself to negotiate with our fair headmistress to arrange this little club, to give all my willing students a bit of hands-on experience if you ever have to defend yourself in a magical situation as I have done countless times. For full details, see my published works." Lockhart started the speech.

"That's right, young ones. With you all being on the newer side, we're holding this group a bit differently than the upper years. Professor Lockhart and I will start this group by teaching the proper forms and techniques of professional dueling before we let you all loose on each other. If you have experience with form or dueling and don't want to sit through the basics, all you have to do is sit through this class and demonstrate that you know what you're doing, and then join us again in eight weeks when we start practical duels. So let's get to it." Professor Chambers took over and finished for Lockhart.

For the next hour, the students learned the forms, niceties, and poses of dueling. Most of the pureblood crowd that had been acting superior to the rest of them were dressed down and told that they had been taught incorrectly. If they were in a duel, they would be disqualified for putting themselves, their opponent, or the crowd in danger. Malfoy, who had been bragging about his dueling instruction, was corrected the most by Professor Chambers.

"Son, I don't know whom your father hired to teach you to duel, but either they didn't know their wand from a tree, or you paid less attention to their lessons than a dragon would to a robin."

A pink-faced Malfoy was corrected on his stance, his grip, and his spacing. Harry found it hilarious as he allowed Lockhart to correct his stance and grip and tried to soak in as much information before they were led in group-form training, cycling through combative and defensive stances with fake wands (to prevent mishaps).

During dinner, all who attended except Malfoy agreed that it would be a fun time, and many looked forward to next week's meeting. Even Smara was impressed, as she did not have a high opinion of Lockhart, neither did Harry, really, but the man seemed to know about dueling, at least in the academic sense of what goes where. More than two weeks had passed since that first dueling club meeting when Smara woke Harry up late, or rather early, Saturday morning.

"Little one, wake up! There's something wrong. Awaken, you drowsy snack!" blared Smara, trying to wake Harry up.

mmm'wha's up." Harry said yawning.

"I can smell him, Harry. I can smell the broken one. He is here, and he is close. I thought I had smelled him for a while now, but it was faint. The scent grows in strength and vitality more and more!"

Harry knew what that meant: Voldemort was back inside the school somehow. "How could he be here, and how does he smell? He's less than a ghost; he shouldn't have a scent."

"I do not know, young one. My former captor had many magical skills beyond those of the common man. What is important now is that the headmistress be informed that if the riddle is back in school, then he will be using my father's reliquary to hide in. There are many powerful items hidden there, but the most dangerous one has already been removed."

"And what item would that be, Smara?"

"-Me."

Harry crawled out of bed. The hint of light outside Harry's window and the distant sound of birds told Harry that curfew had been lifted, so he gathered up Smara and helped her to wrap herself around his shoulders. He had made it down to the common room and was about to climb through the portrait hole when Sir Nicholas, the nearly headless ghost of Gryffindor Tower, glided through the door.

"Ah! Mr. Potter! Just the lad I was sent to find. Excellent! But I'm afraid I must insist you stay here."

"But Nick, I can't. I have something very important to tell the headmaster—" but Harry was cut off by the ghost.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but that is impossible. I shall tell her of your wish to speak to her. I'm sure she will accommodate you with haste, but it is not safe for your frightening familiar to be out in the corridors at the moment," Sir Nicholas said in his pompous voice.

"But why?" Harry asked, exasperated.

"It seems that a student has broken into the chicken coops and spread all of Hagrid's roosters across the school. I'm unaware of how much you know about basilisks, but..."

"The crowing of the rooster is fatal to them! Thanks, Nick!"

"It is not a problem, young Mr. Potter. Argus Filch has already taken the one that was placed in front of the Gryffindor portrait hole. I shall go and inform the headmistress of your wishes, Harry, but you should go back to your dormitory to wait for her," said Nick, and Harry did just that.

It was three hours later that Professor McGonagall strode into the Gryffindor boys' dormitory to find Hermione and Harry sitting close together, comparing notes from a book on Harry's bed. While there, she had the fortune of witnessing what was most likely the strangest sight she had ever seen: Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, and the Weasley twins standing around, watching enraptured as Ron Weasley played wizard's chess with a 1,000-year-old deadly basilisk. And if her eyes weren't deceiving her, then Ron was losing.

"Mr. Potter," started McGonagall, causing almost every student to jump. Ron, taking the opportunity, surreptitiously knocked half the board over (yes, he was losing) and then she smacked him with her tail before she slithered over and curled herself around Harry's bedpost. "Sir Nicholas has informed me that you had something urgent to tell me this morning. I apologize; I was busy helping to track down the roosters. The school is now safe for your familiar once again."

"Thank you, Professor. That's good to hear. Yes, I wanted to talk to you. Well, actually, Smara wanted to speak to you, but that's a bit of the same thing, really. You see, she woke me up this morning and told me she could sense and smell someone who had no business being in this school. She could smell Voldemort and sense his presence, ma'am. She says that it gets stronger and fades away as if what he's using to come here pops in and out of existence. She also said that you'll need to organize an expedition to some hidden chamber she called the Reliquary, where Salazar Slytherin hid her and a few other dangerous things away. She said that that place is the most likely area for him to hide if he is truly here," quickly explained Harry, not wanting to be interrupted. "She also said I'd need to go with the group as I'm the only known Parselmouth in the school, and you'll need to seek several times."

"That, that is deeply disturbing, Mr. Potter. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, and I will tell you this now in response to what you just told me. I will be locking down the school as soon as I leave here and get to my office. The whole school will be searched by the DMLE and every Curse-Breaker I can recruit."

"So, you believe me?" asked Harry.

"Of course, Mr. Potter. And had I not, I would still lock down and search the school on the off chance that you were right. I do, after all, learn from my mistakes," the old professor said, slipping slightly into a Scottish brogue. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I will contact you, Mr. Potter, when I am prepared to move forward, but I will attempt to find an adult Parselmouth to accompany the search party when the time comes. However, it is an exceedingly rare skill, so if I can't find anyone, then we will need your assistance. Good day. The house elves will bring lunch at twelve."

The lockdown was not a simple, few-hour thing like they had assumed it would be. The castle was searched by the DMLE, curse breakers from Gringotts, the ghosts, and a band of private magical detection experts. Every single student was separated, interviewed, and scanned for dark objects and magic in the dorms and bathrooms. As the students were being led down to the Great Hall for a segregated lunch on the third day, Harry saw that they had cordoned off a whole section of the seventh floor. Many students were picked up for having traces of dark magic about them, including Ron's little sister, Ginny, but she was released, as were most other students. Apparently, according to what Ginny said she was told, some people just act like sponges for magic and, if exposed, will carry a trace around for a while. The girls' dorm had been picked apart, according to Hermione, as the scan was picking up strong dark magic that turned out to be a long-forgotten ritual circle covered by wooden panels. Harry and Ron both assumed that the Slytherin dorms were being cleansed with holy fire to cleanse all the dark magic.

All in all, the search was finally done after four days of lockdown, meaning that the whole school was gathered for a special morning announcement on Wednesday during breakfast.

"Good morning!" called Headmistress McGonagall.

"It is with great pleasure that I tell you the school-wide lockdown is over. The school has been searched and cleansed as much as possible. As you have no doubt noticed, some students were found to be in possession of dark objects and were suspended. The affected students will return after Halloween. The school will return to normal starting today, and I ask you to work hard to catch up on the lessons missed! Good day!" And she clicked her knife to her cup as food appeared before them. After breakfast, Harry was called to the headmistress's office, where, when he opened the large oak door, he found the office occupied by Headmistress McGonagall, a slightly paler-than-he-remembered Amelia Bones, Susan Bones (who got up as he entered the room and left), and several people Harry assumed were Ministry officials.

"Please come in, Mr. Potter. Is Smara with you?"

"Always," Harry said as the serpent in question stuck its head out of the neck of his robes.

"Most excellent. Well, then, we'll start, Harry. You know Amelia Bones. The men behind her are Head Auror Alastor Moody, Senior Auror Scabior, and three representatives from the Minister's office: Miss Bulstrode, Mr. Harding, and Mr. Belby. They are here in various capacities but mainly to hear Samira's answers to their questions."

"And those would be what?"

"What is the reliquary?"

Then, Harry begins translating directly for Smara.

"A chamber beneath the school, built by my father before he left the school."

"Who is your father?"

"My father was Salazar Slytherin."

"Is this reliquary the Chamber of Secrets?"

"If that is the name you have assigned it, then I am sure it is human."

"Where did you sense He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Here and there, but very close that day, my old master always had a twisted scent. Even in my distressed and fractured mind, I could pick up his scent—never another like it or with it—until a few days ago."

"Was it in Gryffindor Tower?"

"It is hard to say." I taste many things. It is impossible to pinpoint faint smells, like they surround you.

"Have you smelled it since then? We are not doubting you, Serpent, but we searched this school top to bottom and found no sign of Voldemort—plenty of other nasty stuff, mind you, but nothing in relation to him," broached Alastor Moody, cutting off Amelia Bones and earning a glare from the woman.

"You smell of dark magic, fear, and something familiar that I can't place. Human, it is foul, but no, not since that day have I smelled the Pale One."

"Could you have been mistaken, great queen, about the presence of the Dark Lord?" supplied the man named Bulstrode.

She rose, growing in height and hissing, "Mistaken! You accuse me of not knowing my own senses!" She snapped her jaws at the man, who in turn fell backward in fear.

"Settle down. We only mean to make sure," the Auror "Mad-Eye" was staring into the eyes of Smara—something even Harry had trouble doing. The grizzled and scarred Auror unsettled Harry, but he could admit he admired the old man's resolve.

"No, I was not mistaken, wretchling."

"Well, it seems he knows you have changed allegiances the same night you caught his scent. Roosters are placed all over the school."

That's when Mr. Harding said, "The Minister has decided that when the school is empty during Christmas, you and your snake will lead a team of Ministry Unspeakables into this reliquary, where we will collect the artifacts left there for study."

And with that, Harry left as the adults began talking in hushed tones. Despite a new air of paranoia, time began marching onward again. The group of second years made good progress in all their lessons, but Harry had noticed a vast improvement over his first year. It was likely due to being free from the influence of the spells and potions, but also Hermione's nagging about him studying and practicing more. Harry was one of the busiest second years between his homework, separate study time, the dueling club, and Quidditch practice three times a week. Harry didn't have much time to lie about or worry about any phantoms coming after him. And Harry carried on with this schedule until early on Halloween morning when Smara woke him and brought him back to a very familiar bathroom. After frightening away a moping ghost girl, she opened a sink and carried Harry down a long and slippery tunnel to a point that had to have been miles under the school, coming to rest in front of a door adorned with snakes. He stepped onto the filthy ground as Smara spoke.

" This is it, little one—the door to the reliquary.

Harry stood there for a minute, studying the metallic snakes on the door, enameled green with emerald eyes. He once again heard Smara speak in a sibilant whisper.

"Open!"

Chapter Text

"Confound it all!" Smarra hissed angrily. "It is times such as this I wish I were able to roar; hissing does not do my wrath justice!" They had been standing outside the highly decorative door for nearly an hour, saying every phrase possible to get it to open. "The pale one must have sealed it somehow."

"Little one, I must leave for a time. My nest connects to every pipe in this school, but getting to and finding those pipes that lead to my nest is an arduous task. Blast it all! I wanted to give you certain things from my father to hide, but it might take months for me to work out how to unlock the reliquary. How he managed to change the wards that stood unchanged for a thousand years! Go to bed, young one. The chute we went down—all you must do is ask for the stairs, and you can walk up. Don't forget to put your cloak on."

After that, still hissing, she raised her body, nosed a grating covering a pipe to the side, and slid in, quickly disappearing into the darkness of the tube.

"That's not good, Harry. After she sensed You-Know-Who, the roosters crowing that someone can change ancient words to ignore commands is not a good sign at all," said Hermione

.

"No, it's not, but there's also no evidence that Voldemort is in Hogwarts. Despite Samara, my scar hasn't hurt once, and it prickled all last year when he WAS around. I don't know; I just hope she's okay," groused Harry.

"Are we still going to check out Sir Nicholas's deathday party?" asked Hermione politely, but with a great amount of suppressed excitement.

"Yeah, I reckon so. I did promise him I'd look into it, didn't I?"

"Don't expect me to go with you, bloke. I don't think ghosts serve food at their parties, and I'm not missing the feast tonight."

"Well, for one, I am excited to check it out. I don't expect many people can say they've been to a deathday party, especially Muggle-borns," replied Hermione with disapproving grace that seemed oddly familiar.

"Hey, Harry, no lessons today. Want to head back to the common room, and we can play chess?" asked Ron.

"Maybe later. Hermione and I are going to the library to sort out Lockhart's and Chamber's essays," said Harry. "Come on, mate, it's the weekend. Why ruin it with homework?" whined Ron.

"Because Ronald, Chambers' class is Monday and Lockhart's is Tuesday, and both assignments were given Friday, that means it's weekend work. That's why they are longer than usual, and obviously, unlike you, Harry, and I, actually care about our grades!" Hermione quickly responded, growing more and more agitated by the end of her little rant and storming out of the Great Hall.

"Absolutely mental she is."

"No ron, she isn't" Harry said as he gathered his bag amd hermiones as it to lay forgotten by his feet.

It was during a break that Hermione and Harry were talking about the Reliquary, and Hermione had an idea to see if there were any books about it. After finding Madam Pince, the snippy, swotty, vulture-like librarian, and asking her using the name the Ministry representative used, "the Chamber of Secrets," they asked if there was any book related to the topic.

"No, there isn't. There is a small section in "Hogwarts: A History," but that's it. "The legend of the long-fabled Chamber of Secrets is perhaps Hogwarts' most enduring legend. During the construction of the school, it is said that Slytherin built a chamber in the school and used it to house his collection of knowledge. Later, when he was leaving the school, he left behind an unknown horror that would be used by his true heir to rid the school of all those that Slytherin saw as unworthy of learning magic."

"Please, Madam Pince. An unknown horror?"

"There is believed to be a monster inside the chamber," she looked over at Harry before continuing. "If your serpent really did come out of the chamber, then I'd say she is what the legends spoke of, but as she's as friendly as a housecat, I say we are all in the clear."

"Is there anything else about it? Smara said there are other dangerous things inside it," said Harry.

No, I'm afraid that's it. For most of Hogwarts' history, it was barely a legend, so there is no known inventory of that room, not even its location." And at that, she held up her hand. "And no, I do not wish to know its location personally. I think it should remain a legend.

"Thank you, Madam Pince. That's been a great help, just having that background information."

"Anytime, dear. It is my job as a librarian to pass on knowledge." The sour old woman gave Hermione a rare smile, for whom she seemed to have developed a soft spot.

And so, after a long and torturous day writing two interesting but very boring essays, the two friends found themselves following signs decorated with jet-black, tapering candles that flickered with an odd, ethereal blue light. They descended further and further down into the dungeons of Hogwarts than either of them had ever gone until they came upon a door with more of the candles around it. An unnatural chill that fogged their breath hung in the air. Reaching out, they opened the ancient, blackened oak door, revealing a truly haunting congregation of ghosts, specters, and spirits. They could even see Peeves, the school's prank-loving poltergeist, hovering above the ghostly throng. They couldn't hear him above the incredibly horrible sound of thirty musical saws, but judging by his victims' reactions, it was very rude indeed. Then, Sir Nicholas caught sight of the two entering and wafted over to greet them.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, what a fine night it is for such a lamentable occasion," he said, his somber tone belying his broad smile. "Not a bad turnout, you know. The Wailing Widow is here all the way from Kent, and—" But he was cut off as the back wall seemed to come alive with a crowd of nearly 30 ghosts riding spectral horses, hooting and hollering, throwing their severed heads between each other, and making loud, bawdy jokes. As the loudest and rowdiest among them stopped and "stepped" off his horse and approached them.

"Nick! He's still hanging in there?" Then he shrugged his shoulders in a way that made his head do a jump and a backflip before landing back down on his truncated torso. He pointed at Harry and Hermione, shouting, "Living! What are two young fingerlings doing down here?"

"they are here at my invitation, sir podmore." indicated Nick back with his usual pompous appropose.

"Yeah, I passed him while he was reading your letter, and he told me about the Deathday celebration. Well, I'm Muggle-raised, so I had never heard of it, so I thought I'd have a look in. Hermione here wanted to come and see as well. And back to the letter, I was thinking, if I could be so forward as to make a proposal?" After another comically exaggerated nod, Harry continued. "I don't think it's right that you won't let Nick join the Headless Hunt. Sure, he can't do Head Hockey or Horseback Head Polo as you said in your letter, but there's netting that Nick can do very, very well."

"And what would that be, little Potter?" said Podmore.

"Pomously introducing you lot." with a little showmanship, his hat coming off after a bow, would be great.

"Well, well, hmm, now that is something to think about, Nick. I'll let you know what we decide later. For now, it's time for a good match of head bowling!"

After that, Harry and Hermione remained for another 30 minutes until the stench of rotting food and the extreme cold of the numerous ghosts touching them as they went hither and thither drove them away. And so, after saying farewell to Nearly Headless Nick, Hermione and Harry left and made their way to the Great Hall. When they got to the main entrance, however, they saw something that chilled the marrow in their bones: a scrawny, dust-colored cat suspended in mid-air. Mrs. Norris, the caretaker Argus Filch's cat, co-conspirator. Her body had been twisted in an unnatural way, and her eyes, the bulging lamp-like orbs that every person in the school knew, were gone.

They screamed, so loud and so suddenly that Harry's mouth filled with the taste of copper, and they both tripped before running pell-mell to the Great Hall, whose door had burst open, flooding the entrance hall with students and teachers.

"Back!" shouted a Scottish brogue. "Back away immediately!" As the headmistress approached, she exclaimed, "Mrs. Norris! Oh my!" and she started waving her wand, joined by Filius Flitwick, the school's deputy head and master of charms, and Snape himself. All three completely ignored the wracking sobs of Mr. Filch, who had come sprinting as fast as his flat feet would take him when his cat's name was mentioned. Professor Sprout was comforting the man as the three other professors spoke.

"Is she-"

"Yes, but how?"

"I am unsure. It was a dark curse that did it, and the spell making the cat float is not a levitation charm but a trap as well, but I cannot tell when it triggers. There is only one way to know for certain, however." And Snape quickly reached out and snatched the cat from its glimmering suspension, and the remains of Mrs. Norris exploded. Yet no blood hit anyone. No one was hurt at all. Instead, all the blood seemed to suspend itself in midair before flying to the wall of the entrance hall, forming large red words.

"The Chamber of Secrets is open once more. Allies need not fear, but the enemies of the true heir, beware."

Pandemonium! Students started running as soon as Mrs. Norris liquefied, but a large cannon blast made everyone freeze.

"All students, return to your house dormitories! Mr. Potter, please remain here."

And seemingly from nowhere, Smara, whom Harry hadn't seen for close to twelve hours, appeared, sticking out of a pipe high up on the wall. She leapt from the wall as Harry shouted, "Wingardium Leviosa!" and caught the snake on his shoulders.

"Smara, you stink." Harry cast a cleaning charm on his snake's scales as he waited for the hall to clear.

"Mr. Potter, you will lead us to this reliquary immediately! If this person is hiding there, he will be found!" yelled the headmistress.

Of course, Headmistress. But it's sealed. Smara tried getting in, and apparently, whoever this is... changed the locks, you could say." Harry explained sheepishly.

All four heads of house gathered around Harry, Smara, and McGonagall as they started to march up the stairs to the second floor and into an often out-of-order girls' toilet, where Harry hissed, and a chute opened after he spoke to the faucet and proceeded into the floor. After another short hiss, stairs appeared.

In the end, another hour was spent with McGonagall and the four heads of house poking, prodding, and scanning every inch of the antechamber in front of the round serpent door.

"It's no use," swore McGonagall. "We will have to call in more curse-breakers."

Professor Weasley escorted Harry back to Gryffindor Tower, where after fending off questions about his summons with the headmistress, and once back in his bed, he fell back into a fitful doze.

He was woken up rather rudely.

"Harry, Harry, get up! We're having early training sessions all this week, remember? Get up!" called Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, shaking him out of his sleep.

"Oliver! It's not even dawn yet," the young seeker groused before getting up and begrudgingly digging out his Quidditch gear.

Once down at the pitch, Wood had to fend off his entire team's attempted mutiny. "Look, it's not my fault the Slytherin team booked the pitch specially this week to 'train their new seeker.' This is the only time slot available this week. We'll be up early training from 6 to 8 today, Tuesday, and Thursday. Friday will be a rest day before our first match." After that, Wood got out a small blackboard and talked a lot of nonsense while making stick figures do loops on the board to simulate plays. On and on Wood went, doing his best to emulate Professor Binns. After an hour of Wood droning, Harry sat on his broom high above the pitch and saw Hermione make her way to the stands and sit down. He swooped down lower and hung upside down to talk to her.

"Hello, Harry! Aren't you finished yet?"

"Just started, actually. Woods has been going over some new moves. Where's Ron?" Harry groaned.

"He's at breakfast. You know him; he won't ever risk skipping a meal. Do you have to hang upside down? You're making me nervous."

"Yes!" Harry laughed, "otherwise Wood will accuse me of not doing anything. Inversion practice is good; it helps with grip strength."

"I suppose that is true, but you best get going, Harry, or Wood will put me to work again, flicking golf balls at you." And Wood had done that several times now when Hermione was "distracting his seeker during valuable practice time." Harry laughed and sped off, practicing his usual death-defying acrobatics.

After practicing with the team, they showered and cleaned up. Then, they all went back up to the castle for breakfast, where they found out that a special Sunday announcement was being made. This meant the entire school was being gathered to hear the news.

When the students had been gathered, Headmistress McGonagall stood in front of the golden owl-themed podium from which the head spoke. "Good morning, students. In light of the threat displayed by this so-called 'true heir of Slytherin,' the Hogwarts Board of Governors and the Ministry of Education Commission have been in negotiations, and it has been determined that for now, the school shall remain open and functioning as normal. However, an Auror substation has been created inside the castle. This will allow Aurors to always be on hand and patrol the castle while maintaining their normal schedule and workload. They have been instructed to allow the school to handle all misdemeanors, but I will warn you, one and only one time, that while they are in this building, they have a duty to act against all felonies. So please, everyone, be on your best behavior. If anyone sees or experiences anything odd or out of place, I urge you to come forward. That is all." And the ex-Transfiguration professor claps her hands, and the breakfast food appears piled around them. Harry sat next to Ron, whose angry red face was stretched out as he tried to shove an entire sandwich made of French toast, fried egg, bacon, and sausages into his mouth in one bite. "Excuse me, Ron, but you do know that's disgusting, right?" snarked Harry, trying to keep his voice light, contrary to his own appetite, quickly leaving him in response to Ron's table manners. What followed was a completely unintelligible response from Ron that caused both of his brothers, who had seated themselves on either side of their little brother, to whack him on the back of the head.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Ron," said one twin.

"Yes, you're already putting us all off our breakfast," said the other.

"If you don't remember your manners, we will have to go get the good professor to sort you out," they both finished in tandem.

"And what seems to be the problem here, boys?" the new Head of Gryffindor asked from behind the twins, causing everyone around to jump in surprise.

"Nothing, Mum!"

"Just having a morning chat with our dear baby brother," the twins said in unison, shaking Ron back and forth. "Hmph! Well, do behave, won't you? And Ron, you are not a starving wretch in the desert. You don't need to stuff your mouth so full. Good morning, Harry, Hermione," she finished as she walked back to the teachers' table.

"How did she sneak up on us?" Harry muttered to Hermione.

"I don't know, but we'll have to remember that if we ever need to talk during her class. Speaking of which, I am excited for her class. Form shifting is a very useful practice, and the first permanent transformation we will be learning. I wonder what we are going to start with." wondered Hermione.

"If she's anything like McGonagall, then you'll be shaping-changing glass faces to form different shapes," said the twin on the left.

"Oooh! Well, that could be fun!"

And suddenly, from across the hall, they all turned as a familiar, whiny voice called out.

"Hey, scarhead! Want to come and see what my father has just donated to the Slytherin team?"

Harry got up, actually curious, as he called out, "What are you on about now, Malfoy?" But he had spotted seven sleek, black, finely polished broomsticks. Even at the distance he was, Harry could see the "Nimbus 2001" relieved in gold on the top of the handle.

"What do you think, Potter? Pretty nice brooms, eh?"

"I've got to admit, Malfoy. This is a very generous gift from your father, especially since you're not on the team," Harry responded coolly as the other Quidditch players of the royal houses gathered around Harry to see the broom.

"Yes, well, my father is very generous, scarhead, but you'd be wrong to say I'm not on the team. I am, after all, the new Slytherin Seeker." Smugness was dripping from the blond ponce's mouth like water from a broken tap. It made Harry want to punch him.

After a deep sigh, Harry turned and started walking away and said, "If you'll excuse me, I need to go have a chat with the headmistress."

Walking the length of the Great Hall, Harry settled on a plan. Malfoy had a rich father, but Harry was just as rich, if not richer, than the Malfoy family. Two can play at that game.

"Hello, headmistress. Before I get out of line, I'd like to ask if that," he indicated the brooms by pointing, "is legal."

"There is no school rule that does not allow a donation or gift to one particular house team, and when I tried to block it anyway out of fairness, I was overruled by the governors." She sniffed in clear disapproval.

"Excellent. Then, as the lord and warlock of the most ancient and noble house of Potter, I would like to donate twenty-one Nimbus 2001 broomsticks to the three houses that have not already received such a magnanimous gift. And I'd like the school to purchase them before next weekend's match, please."

"Thank you very much. Hogwarts as a whole appreciates your gift, Mr. Potter. You will need to come up to my office and sign the necessary parchment," said McGonagall in awe.

"Understandable. Call me whenever, although I think..." And Harry paused for a moment before nodding to himself. "Yes, I think I will donate 1,000 on top of the brooms. The school could do with updated equipment, don't you think?"

"I would never turn down donations, Harry. The abuses and running of this school have left the..." But she stopped talking, realizing Harry had assumed that she was still talking to a student.

"And another 1,000 galleons in an incidental account." That made McGonagall's head shoot up and stare at him with wide eyes, and Harry smiled, bowed slightly, and walked away back to the Gryffindor table.

Harry and Hermione spent the rest of Sunday relaxing in the Gryffindor common room by the fire, reading books, telling jokes, and pointedly refusing to help Ron, who spent the day rushing through an entire week's homework because he refused to get to it earlier. It was only with Harry's insistence that Hermione hadn't worn out and helped him. "He won't learn otherwise," Harry had said.

The next week had been rather fun. Interesting lessons in Transfiguration—learning to change the form of an object while keeping its properties the same—by taking a round glass vase and making it a cube or pyramid. And in Charms, a basic moving spell, "Mobiliarbus." Just say "Mobiliarbus" and the Latin name for an object, and it will move at your command. Both talents were deceptively tricky, yet Harry and Hermione were praised for being the first and second to achieve each.

History remained interesting with this week's lectures focusing on the basic history of early China.

Potions was bearable as Snape was still on probation. The dungeon bat was still trying to grade Harry far too harshly, but in both lessons, Harry had turned in perfect potions that he couldn't complain about.

And Lockhart in DADA had taken to acting out some of his adventures in the guise of teaching the students how to properly do things through "simulation practice, like the Muggle policemen do!"

On top of that, Harries' donation of the twenty-one brooms had the desired effect of making Malfoy angry. After all, Harry had just erased the advantage that got Malfoy onto the team to begin with. He had actually almost fought Harry after McGonagall had made the announcement at breakfast that Thursday.

"If you all could give me your attention for one moment, I would like to take this time to offer Hogwarts' gratitude to Lord Harry James Potter for his wonderful donation of 2,000 galleons and 21 brand-new Nimbus 2001s, to match the generous gift to the Slytherin Quidditch team by Lord Malfoy earlier this week!" Malfoy had all but run up on Harry, seething, red-faced in anger.

"How dare you, Potter! I-"

"You'll have your father try to bribe the Ravenclaws into letting you win, Malfoy? You already bought your way onto the Slytherin team. Can't you imagine a more original way to get back at me?" Harry said, his voice full of forced bravado.

"You watch yourself, Potter, one of these days. We'll see who bought their way onto a team during our match, Potter!" But the blonde Slytherin stormed off angrily. Lucius had written Harry as a courtesy to a business partner and told him that he had ordered his son to watch his tongue.

Two days later, the Gryffindor/Hufflepuff match had been one for the record books. With the broom advantage no longer a factor, people were expecting a nice, long, and even match-up. But they didn't account for the skill of the youngest seeker in a century, who caught the Golden Snitch after about five minutes of gameplay.

The party in the Gryffindor common room had done a lot to let off the tension that had built since the prior week's events on Halloween.

Harry and Hermione would be found the next morning on the couch in front of the fire, woken up suddenly by the large flash and acrid smoke coming from a camera that belonged to a first-year named Colin Creevey, an overzealous Muggle-born fanboy of Harry's.

After that, time marched on through November, with the only notable thing that happened being that Professor Chambers decided that the lower years had finally mastered the dueling forms and set up their first dueling practice, which did not go well.

Professors, Chambers, Lockhart, and to everyone's horror, Snape stood at the center of the dueling platform as the underclassmen group gathered for the starting instruction of today's meeting. Of course, it was Lockhart who attempted to command the room.

"Welcome and good evening to you all. Professor Chambers and myself were discussing your group, and we have agreed that you are ready to move on to actual practical lessons. We thought it would be a good idea to start with the basic shielding charm, which is a third-year-level spell, so all second years, do not get discouraged if you struggle to cast it."

"Yes! Now, the spell we will be practicing is called 'Protego.' I cleared that pronunciation with my colleagues here, so no jokes. Now, we are going to pair you all off, and since there are going to be so many pairs, I asked Professor Snape here to stand in and help, as he has, uh, dueling experience," finished Chambers in the two teachers' usual style of public speaking. Harry and Hermione made to pair with each other when...

"I don't think so, Miss Granger. Mister Potter, you both are two of the best students, so I want to pair you with someone who will benefit from it.

Miss Granger, how about you go partner with Neville over there? Be easy on him now!" Chambers called out as Hermione made her way over. "And Mister Potter, how's about you go with?" But he paused there, looking around, but Snape had beaten him to it.

"How about Mister Malfoy?" Snape said in his deep and even tone, even if Harry could make out the hidden disdain in his speech. "The two boys are well matched for each other, I assure you."

"Perfect!" said Chambers. "Now, I assume Lockhart over there has gone over the Shield Charm in class?" But the preteens snorted in unison, and they glared at each other.

"He's, er, gone over the theory, si—" Harry started but was cut off by Lockhart himself.

"Yes, I had gone to the theory. I know we were close to these practical lessons, and I thought they would be a much better teaching approach than a boring lecture and a stagnant classroom demonstration. And since all of my second years have joined this club, it just seemed the most opportune."

"Right, well then, cast a quick one, everyone. The group cast Protego. It took Malfoy four tries for his shield not to falter. Hermione's was pristine, of course, and everyone else's was a slight variation of iffy, but they held."

"Perfect! Well, no, not really, but it'll be good enough for some stinging hexes."

And at that, the group was instructed to duel, taking turns, one casting a stinging hex and the other blocking it. Harry could see Hermione waiting patiently to hex Neville, who was having great difficulty forming a cohesive shield. Ron and Dean were already trading spells back and forth, and Malfoy was getting an evil glint in his eye as Snape whispered something to him.

"Okay, on three, you two. One. Two. Three—" said Chambers, but Malfoy had fired his spell on "three," and it wasn't a Stinger, either.

"Flipendo!" Malfoy shouted, shooting a pinkish-red bolt at Harry, who had just cast the shield, but not quickly enough. He was sent flipping through the air before crashing down to the stone floor. He extended his left hand to catch himself, but he hit the floor with an audible crack as his arm broke. However, Harry, accustomed to pain, shot up with his wand raised and fired an Ascendare!

Malfoy, who had been laughing at his successful trick shot, shot up off the ground about eight feet and fell badly, landing poorly. Multiple pops sounded as both his ankles and most likely his femurs broke on the odd-angled impact.

Chambers and Lockhart didn't even have time to react to stop them, but he quickly restrained the two children. When, to his surprise, Harry snapped the restraints of magic, he shakily turned to the professor and said, "I don't like being held down, sir," before sitting down and extending his very clearly broken ankle and breathing heavily. Hermione came running to Harry to make sure he was okay.

"Miss Granger, could you please help Mister Potter to the hospital wing? And Co-" Professor Chambers was cut off by Snape, who waved his wand and levitated Draco. "I'll escort him. He took advantage of my advice to start casting early to get the jump on Potter. I think, due to the injuries on both parties, a point reduction will not be necessary tonight."

"Yeah, I reckon I can agree to that. The use of Skelegrow is enough punishment." Chambers did a long flourish with his wand and conjured a stretcher, setting it to levitate. After Harry was situated on the stretcher, Hermione called out "Mobili stretcher" and started pulling Harry to the hospital wing.

It was not a good night

Chapter Text

Harry woke up in the hospital wing, a painful tingle going up his left leg and down his right arm as that horrid potion did its job. Skelegrow, Harry thought, had to be the worst-tasting potion ever produced by wizardkind. He had been forced to drink a full five-ounce dose to completely regrow the bones in his arm, wrist, leg, and ankle. They had all been so badly damaged that Vanishing them and regrowing them was the most effective solution.

When Harry woke, he realized his face was wet and there was a subtle weight next to him. Curious, Harry cracked his eyes open and saw sitting on his bed, wiping his forehead with a damp rag, was an elf, but not one of his elves; it was someone else entirely.

"Dobby, what are you doing here?" Harry whispered to the frightened elf.

"I told you, Dobby, I had to come back. Hogwarts is my home. I belong here," whispered Harry.

"Be that as it may, sir, you should not have come back. Dark things are to happen this year—perhaps are happening right now. Sir, you must not be here, not now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets will be open once more, sir." Dobby seemed to have realized he had crossed some boundary because he had started hitting himself as hard and loud as he could with a bedpan that Harry had no clue where the small elf had procured.

"Dobby, stop! Dobby!" Harry was wrestling with the elf as well as he could with one arm and trying to keep his voice low. Harry managed to pin the small elf down. "Dobby, calm down. The Chamber can't be that much of a threat anymore. My familiar, Smara, is the so-called monster from that chamber. She won't hurt anyone, okay?"

"Oh sir, I mean no disrespect, but there are other dangers in the chamber that could do worse than even the king of serpents could do, si—" Dobby flicked his head toward the door that had just burst open, and the elf vanished.

Through the doors came a small crowd of people escorting a small body as it levitated to a bed. Whoever the student was, for it was a student—they were too small to be an adult—was limp and colorless. Madam Pomfrey, the matron of the hospital, flung herself out of her office and started bustling around the newly filled bed.

"Where did you find him again, Lockhart?" asked the mead mistress.

"Third floor, just past the statue of that one-eyed old crone, Gunhilda. I think he was sneaking down here to visit Potter; he had a bowl of grapes next to him."

"And the lad's camera? What of it?" asked Flitwick.

"Smashed to pieces, I'm afraid. Whoever attacked him didn't want to risk a picture getting developed."

"Well, Poppy, is there anything you can find?" the head Scott's woman asked.

"Well, he's not petrified or immobilized. His brain scan doesn't even indicate sleep." She then vanished the boy's clothes and flipped him onto his stomach. The boy rolled limply. "But there is an odd runic array carved into the skin of his back. I don't know the runes, but something is preventing him from waking, bleeding, or doing anything. Even if I heal them, they just reopen. Snape, you're the resident Dark Arts expert here. Do you have any idea?"

Snape strolled out of the darkness and into a strip of moonlight. "There are, of course, many dark rituals that will do this to their victims to prevent the sacrifice from fighting or escaping. I will need to research which ones require the necromantic runes to do so. I am no expert, but I know that this rune is for life, and this one is for transfer or move. I think I see a seal here. The best we can do for him now is to keep energizing potions in his system at all times. We don't know the rate of whatever this rune set is trying to do." After a moment of silence, he swept from the hall, disappearing into the darkness. Harry saw the teachers look in his direction, and he closed his eyes, pretending to sleep as best he could.

At 8 o'clock the next morning, Harry sat in his bed in the hospital wing while Hermione and Madam Pomfrey fussed over him. He looked and felt dead on his feet. It had taken Harry hours to fall asleep again after the teachers left. Not only was Dobby's visit on his mind, but also the fact that Colin Creevey (at least he assumed it was Creevey—he didn't know anyone else to carry around a camera) was lying in the hospital as if dead. And not to mention, it felt like his arm had been filled with white-hot needles instead of bone. Hermione was more understanding of the lack of sleep, but the fussy healer was talking about keeping him until the end of the day for observation. After she had cleared Malfoy immediately, there was zero chance Harry was going to let her keep him any longer.

"Madam Pomfrey, I promise, I'm just tired. Having your bones regrow hurts, and I woke up partway through the night when—" But Harry stopped and looked over at the curtained-off bed.

"Oh, if you insist, Mr. Potter, but if you feel extra tired or your arm or leg starts hurting again excessively, I want you to come straight back here. And, Miss Granger, ensure that he takes it easy—no running, no fighting, and when he takes the stairs, I want as much weight off that leg of yours as possible for the next three days." After that, she force-fed him another, thankfully smaller, dose of Skelegrow to help heal the microfractures that will occur as Harry's day progresses, and she handed him a note excusing him from extraneous activities for the next three days.

Over the next few days, the school rumor mill spoke almost exclusively of the attack on the Gryffindor first year. But aside from the new presence of a team of highly trained Gringotts curse-breakers taking up residence in the school to work daily on unlocking the Chamber, nothing new happened. Although Ron was having a rotten time of it as his older brother—ex-Prefect, ex-Head Boy, current record holder for the highest-scored N.E.W.T. total, and general favorite of every staff member who knew him—Bill was back at Hogwarts as the junior member of the elite squad of curse-breakers. Bill had come into the Gryffindor common room and done what even Mrs. Weasley had not yet done: publicly dressed Ron down about his grades.

"BUT-"

No! Ron, I don't care about your excuses! They know, your friends know, and your family definitely knows about our financial situation. We've been drowning in debt for three generations. Sending you here is a massive drain on the family finances, Ron! The tuition for this school is not an insignificant sum, and Mom and Dad have to pay it five times, Ron, FIVE! Even with Dad's salary, Mom's pay package from working here now, tack on the money that Charlie and I send every week to help, and Mom and Dad still starve to give you an education! nothing but pain and hunger and sacrifice just to cover the debts of educating us and great grandfather billius' gambling debts, and I walk in here to see my family and see you not only not doing your homework but arguing with your two best friends about not caring about school while playing fucking chess with yourself as an excuse! Why, Ron, do you think you're entitled to come here to waste mum and dad's and mine and Charlie's money with your idiocy and laziness!

A downtrodden Ron had been staring at his feet. "No, but—"

"But nothing, Ron." Bill had stopped yelling. "Mum, Percy, the twins, and I are all too busy to hold your hand and force you to do your work. So I'm going to give you the final bit of motivation that I can. If your grades haven't remarkably improved by the end of the year, I'll intercede on Dad's behalf as the next warlock of our house, and I will bar you from attending school. We have much better things that your tuition money can go to if you're not going to use it. I'm sorry, Ron, we can't afford second chances."

A red-faced Ronald Weasley ran up the boys' stairs and was swiftly followed by his school bag that Bill magicked to follow him. Then the three other elder Weasleys gathered around him, and Harry could barely make out them quietly discussing Ginny.

The next day, Harry sat eating breakfast when the headmistress called out.

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy, could you please come to the staff table?"

Heaving a deep sigh and wondering what he had done, he made his way up to the front of the hall. Standing there with Malfoy next to him, the headmistress gazed at them imperiously.

"At this morning's staff meeting, I was informed of the full details of what happened in the dueling club that led to both of your injuries, and it was agreed that your punishments would be amended. Mister Malfoy, I have placed a zero-tolerance policy on bullying and fighting, so I will be amending your punishment from "pain served," as Professor Chambers put it, to five nights of detention with Hagrid, cleaning the school without magic. As it was you who started the duel early and not only used the wrong spell but a spell that could have led to even more serious injury had Harry landed differently, your wand privileges have also been suspended for the week. Your teachers have been given second-hand wands to give to students who lose wand privileges for in-class practice."

"You can't do that!" Malfoy shouted, interrupting McGonagall. "When my father hears about this..."

"Twenty points from Slytherin, Mister Malfoy," you will find that I can take any pupil's wand I feel deserves it. And your father has already been told of your punishment."

"Mr. Potter, you will serve two nights of detention as well, one with Professor Weasley and one with Professor Lockhart. You will keep your wand only because you did not start the fight."

"Yes, Professor, I understand. With whom will I serve my detention?" asked Harry.

"It'll be me tonight and tomorrow, dear, and Lockhart on Friday," said Mrs. Weasley.

With Harry, returned to his seat, he relayed his detentions to Hermione. Hermione playfully growled while digging something out of her bag. "Oh, Harry, I just finished this, and you're already making me revise it," she said, tutting. It was a timetable for studying for their midterm exams that were now only four weeks away.

"Hermione, is a four-week review period really necessary for our midterms?" Harry whined.

Hermione began to pat his head. "Of course, it's not necessary, but if we start reviewing the basic things now, then we can focus on reviewing the newer information we are taught in the coming weeks!"

Harry groaned and dropped his head onto the table. "Sometimes I don't like how much sense you make."

The rest of the day leading up to Harry's first detention was actually rather exciting. His first class of the day was Charms, where they continued their current unit on cleaning and other charms that were useful for keeping house. Harry had already mastered the Scourgify spell that lathers a target with fresh-smelling soap bubbles, so he spent the double period walking around the class with Hermione, who had also mastered the spell, and helping the students who were struggling. Ron was, in Harry's opinion, already making great strides with his brother's threats as motivation. He had even managed to clean his entire grime-covered cutting board by the end of class. Just as well, because the next class was Potions.

potions class was tolerable. snape was still on probation, a fact that obviously grated on the sour man's nerves. but he led the class through the steps to brew a fun little potion called a bouncing beverage.

"This potion, invented by a sneak thief called Spring-heeled Jack, was invented in the 1830s and allows the wearer to jump as if gravity barely holds them and to run at unnatural speeds. The man who invented it used its effects to bait and scare the Muggles of Victorian England. Today, you shall brew this potion. For those of you who can read, the steps are on the board. For those who are too dim-witted to read, you may follow me as I brew it along with the class," Snape snapped. It was a good lesson, all told, and when Harry turned in his stoppered sample, Snape called out to him.

"Very good, potter. Perhaps you have taken after your mother in more ways than I first thought."

And to round the day out, a period of transfiguration and a period of Dada with a Lockhart who had his students act out Lockhart befriending a group of yeti. Finally, he sat with Professor Weasley across from her office desk.

"So, Professor, what shall I be doing?" Harry asked.

"Oh, you can just do your homework, Harry. I don't condone violence in school, but defending yourself is nothing to be punished for." And so Harry went about doing his Potions and Transfiguration homework. Professor Weasley had a passion for Potions and had been working on a mastery when she was young, but the war caused her to lose her mentor. So she had plenty of reference books around for him to use.

His next detention, however, turned out to be somewhat more hands-on.

after 15 minutes of working on his homework for defense against the dark arts, the headmistress bustled in.

"Excuse me, Professor, but our guests require Mr. Potter's assistance," she breathlessly said.

So after making their way through the castle, Harry stood in front of the round door with a snake motif, and he heard knocking from inside it as they approached. Bill Weasley hit the door hard, and the knocking stopped. Harry heard the muffled hiss of his familiar.

" Smara! you found the way in, that's great!"

"Little one? Yes, I finally found the old junctions, and I believe I removed the physical blocks from the door, but it needs a human parcel mouth to open. I believe the Curse Breakers have ascertained the password," Smara relayed quickly.

Harry looked at Bill. "Well, I believe you have been apprised of the situation?" At Harry's nod, he continued.

"Excellent, now we have managed to figure out the new password for the door. The only problem is, we know this phrase is an activator phrase for any number of dark rituals, and there's no telling if this phrase is just something that whoever changed the locks around picked because it would freak us out and slow us down while we worked it out, or if, on top of opening the door, it started whatever ritual is linked to that diagram carved into Mr. Creevey. It's a grim situation, but there's a possibility that we can detect the start without actually triggering anything."

"So, Harry, I want you to repeat after me, but in Parseltongue, okay?" At Harry's nod, he began talking slowly.

"al-sahr yighzy nufseh butlek al-qarabi ouatani sabab raghbeti maktoube bahrovek."

Harry began reciting the phrase slowly while the curse breakers waved their wands, casting a litany of charms that Harry could only guess the purposes of. He began the fourth word when a hand clamped his mouth, stopping him.

An older man who had silenced Harry spoke up.

"Good call, you were right. Bill, it began to call another trigger into effect. We'll need to study the runes on Mister Creevey even further before we even attempt to open that door."

Harry was escorted back to his dorm room by Bill, who, when they arrived, stood and sat with his baby sister, who had been writing in a well-worn journal. Harry, on the other hand, went over to Ron and Hermione to relay the story and continue working on his homework.

The next night found Harry sitting in Lockhart's room, serving his detention. Harry was exhausted. Wood had taken Harry and the rest of the Quidditch team to the pitch as soon as their last classes were over and wouldn't let them go until a quarter to eight, and Harry hadn't had time for dinner before his detention. So there he was, sitting in the ponce's office, writing the addresses on Lockhart's "fan mail" while the man spouted off random sayings like "Fame's a fickle friend, Harry," and "Celebrity is as celebrity does, remember that." Apparently, the loon had gotten it into his head that Harry retaliated against Malfoy because it would throw him into the limelight and wouldn't listen to Harry as he tried to tell the author-turned-professor that he had no desire to be famous. But the detention could have been worse. Apparently, Hagrid had loaned Malfoy out to Snape last night, who had to disembowel an entire 55-gallon barrel of horned toads and sort out the organs needed for potions—without magic or protective gloves. So Harry decided not to complain about the mail.

After Harry had been released near midnight, he was walking through the black abyss that was the school corridor, making his way back to Gryffindor Tower. Using the moon as his light source as the portraits on the walls kept yelling at him for being too bright, he stepped on something low and squishy and landed in something thick and wet. Harry stood up sleepily, complaining about spilled potions. When he cast a quiet Lumos, he subsequently screamed. Two bodies were on the floor: a boy from Harry's grade, Justin Finch-Fletchley from Hufflepuff, and an older girl he didn't recognize but was a Ravenclaw, going by what was left of her robes. They were both shirtless and had a ritual circle. Harry assumed it was the same as the one Colin had carved into him.

Justin was carved into his back, but the topless older girl had the circle carved on her front. Harry's brain finally unclogged, and he took off at a sprint for Flitwick's office, which was the closest. A few minutes passed before Harry was hammering on the diminutive professor's door, and it opened quickly, a wand pointed at his face.

" Mister Potte-"

"Professor, there are two students down there," Harry said quickly and breathlessly, leaning against the wall, shaking.

"Mister Potter? Lead the way, please. Mister Potter, please lead the way!" And Harry wordlessly took off while the Charms Master conjured five spectral white dogs that spread out through the school. When they got back to the two on the ground, the Aurors were already sprinting through the school to find them. Harry stared in shock at his classmates lying broken and bloody on the stone floor before a female Auror conjured two blankets and covered them.

The Auror was speaking to him, probably asking questions that Harry couldn't answer. But Harry was no longer awake, no longer alert. His eyes were open, but his mind had shut down.

"Mister Potter," the Charms teacher called to him, and when the man's face came into focus in Harry's vision, he collapsed. When Harry came to the next morning, he saw a part of the hospital wing that was rapidly becoming way too familiar. Harry silently wondered if the matron was putting him in the same bed on purpose, and then he wondered how he got there. Looking around and seeing the two new curtains of beds jogged his memory with the force of a freight train. "Ah, Mister Potter, you're awake. Good. You feel free to get up and dressed and off to breakfast," she said while waving her wand quickly over and around his body. "Madam Pomfrey, what happened to me? Why did I pass out?" Harry asked nervously. "Oh, don't worry, dear boy, you're fine. It's perfectly normal to happen to one so young. You had a panic attack coupled with the three sprints you did. Your brain was over-oxygenated, and you fell unconscious. With you running like you were, nobody noticed that you were hyperventilating. But you're fine now, so go and have a shower and then, once again, go and have yourself a nice breakfast!" the matron curtly explained. "Yes, ma'am," said Harry, collecting his clothes and going to the shower at the far side of the hospital wing.

The atmosphere in the Great Hall during breakfast was bleak. Harry had arrived at the tail end of breakfast, and Hermione explained that McGonagall had told the school of the double attack. "There are rumors that they'll close the school soon if they can't find the culprit or open the Chamber," said Hermione sadly.

"Don't worry, 'Mione. I'm sure they'll work everything out soon. Bill is working on it after all," replied Ron. Normally, she would have nagged him for shortening her name, but it seemed that the concept of Hogwarts closing had taken most of the wind from her sails, and all she did was glare at him from across the table and kick him in the shin. Harry turned his attention to the others in the hall. Many were sitting far more rigidly than they would normally, or sitting close together. The entire population had an air of anxiety and depression. The Hufflepuffs especially had a most morose quality to them.

"This sucks!" Harry exclaimed. "I wish there was something I could do, but unless we stumble upon who's doing this, I'm stumped." His two friends nodded in agreement.

"Have you all seen Smara?" Harry asked as he began assembling three bacon sandwiches.

"Hmm, I think I remember Bill saying he's down there, helping the Curse-Breakers in researching the Chamber," Hermione explained, scooping a few pieces of fresh fruit onto Harry's plate while eyeing his sandwiches as if they were a personal offense to her.

"How is she doing that?" But the two only shrugged as everyone either started or continued to eat, as Harry and Hermione pointedly ignored Ron's table manners.

As the day progressed, the trio found themselves in the Gryffindor common room. Harry and Ron were playing wizard's chess, and Hermione was reading her favorite Muggle book, "A Brief History of Time" by Stephen Hawking. Harry had already been soundly beaten by Ron three times, but this match he had been doing much better—until a few minutes later, Harry learned that he had been falling for a long-term ploy by Ron and faced checkmate right when he thought he had Ron pinned for once. Harry groaned and banged his head on the board, causing several pieces to yell loudly in protest as he knocked them over. Then Hermione spoke up.

"You know, sometimes I wonder what could be learned from applying magic to astrophysics. I'm hoping to learn to do that when I start Arithmancy," Hermione said in a monotone that said very plainly that she was very deep in her own thoughts.

"Arithmancy—what?" Harry asked.

"Arithmancy! It's the numerical value of magic—how you can calculate magic like you can calculate physics in the mundane world through mathematics. Arithmancy is an optional class we can take starting in our third year, but I've already started reading the introductory book. It's not quite course-grade material, but it's good enough for an outsider's introduction."

"Hermione, I'm not going to lie. That sounds about as dull as watching paint dry," said Harry.

"So, you won't join the class with me? It's just Maths, Harry, just a different form like Algebra or Calculus," Hermione argued back, sounding displeased.

"I'll consider it. I don't know much about the elective courses," said Harry. The elective courses at Hogwarts had a tiered system, meaning some electives were only available after the completion of prior requirements. Starting in the third year, a student can take Divination, which was a lot like Muggle fortune-telling from what Harry understood; Care of Magical Creatures, the study of magical animals and how to care for them under the restrictions of the International Statute of Secrecy; and the study of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. After the fifth year, however, Hogwarts electives branch out into many varied areas of study, from Introduction to Healing to Ward and Spell Design.

Harry hadn't thought of which electives he would join, not knowing much about the magical world, but that was when it hit him. He was sabotaging himself again like he promised Hermione and Smara he wouldn't do. Harry had to be the best possible; he was going to be a lord, someone people looked to to lead. Harry needed to take respectable courses, not easy ones. Damn it.

"Well, why don't we go see Mrs. Weasley? She has a booklet describing the classes, so you have a whole half a year to decide instead of picking at the end of the year."

And so, the two with mischievous smiles walked up to Ron, grabbed both his shoulders, and frog-marched him from the common room to his mother's office. But, somewhat to their surprise, there were voices coming from the office already—there were students in her office. But the students' visits became immediately understood as the flaming red hair of Percy and Ginny Weasley became visible. Percy, seeing the three walk in, stopped talking. But a shame-faced Ginny seemed to find it hard to look away from her mother.

Genny looked terrible—pale, like she hadn't seen any sun in years, and thin, worryingly thin. Harry knew what that type of weight loss meant. A worried glance passed between Harry and Molly Weasley. "Hello, dears. What can I do for you?" asked the professor kindly.

"We're here for a booklet on the elective courses offered for third years, but we can come back later if you need us to," piped up Hermione.

"Oh, nonsense, I have it right here. Percy was just explaining that little genny here was having nightmares," she said as she quickly copied out three booklets from the one in her hand and gave them to her students and son.

"Hermione? Have you had any nightmares? I was thinking maybe the girls' dorm was still under the effects of the dark magic residue."

"Err... no, Professor. No nightmares outside of my usual one involving a troll and a bathroom, but I'm not in the same room as Ginny. Her room was the one with the circle on the wall," said Hermione.

"True. Very true. Well, I'll have William take another look at that room, just to be safe. Well, Percy, why don't you escort these four back to the common room?"

"Actually, Professor Harry and I were going to go to the library," explained Hermione, waving off Percy.

And so they did. They retreated from the office and through the increasingly frosty corridors down to the library, where they spent the hours before dinner working on homework and studying for the mid-year exams.

The next few days went by, each colder than the last, with the marked absence of the headmistress from the table at both breakfast and dinner. That Friday, it became clear why, as Headmistress McGonagall appeared again to address the school.

Chapter Text

May I have everyone's attention, please?" the headmistress called out and waited a few moments while the chatter in the hall died down.

"I may have wished my first year as headmistress to be a quiet and boring one, but that is not the case. An as-yet-unknown outside influence has called the safety of Hogwarts into question.

With the attack on Mr. Creevey, the Ministry and Board of Governors, decided to continue running this school as best as possible with increased security. Sadly, with the double attack on Mr. Finch-Fletchley and Miss Summers, the Governors and Minister, have had to revise their assumptions. As such, we will hold our mid-term exams three weeks early next week. We are borrowing some proctors from the Wizarding Examination Authority to assist in this endeavor. On Saturday morning, all students will return home for an extended Christmas break."

Murmuring broke out across the hall at this pronouncement. But before any discussions could ensue, Professor McGonagall once again cleared her throat and began to speak.

"I understand some of your reticence about exams without the ability or time to study. The staff of Hogwarts and the Ministerial proctors have decided to, for the first time in Hogwarts' history, make these midterms "open-note," as the Muggles might say.

Students have until Monday to write out a note guide. We have acquired and allotted up to twelve Muggle "notebooks" per student for this purpose. I will hear zero negative words about the use of Muggle paper and supplies in this. Given the short time frame, these are the best way to keep things neat and organized without inundating parchment makers with orders they could not fill in time.

Furthermore, there will now be an increased Auror presence, and there will be lawkeepers acting as guards outside the entrance to all common rooms. To ensure that there are zero nighttime wanderings, should you be caught out of bed after hours, the Minister himself and the Wizengamot have allowed the immediate use of Veritaserum. I must impress upon you the importance of not crossing into their purview. The school will be searched again while you students are away. The Chamber will hopefully be able to be opened in that time as well, so that after the new year, we can resume classes as usual. Now, after breakfast, I should say you all would do best to collect your notebooks from your Head of House. Are there any questions?" McGonagall finished.

Hermione's hand shot up like a bullet, getting a fond smile from the headmistress.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"Ma'am, I already have extensive notes from all my classes. Will we be required to use the notebooks, or can we use our pre-written notes if we have already written them?"

"A fair point. I don't think it's right that we punish those students who already have notes written, but I would ask that as a favor to the staff that you and anyone else with notes already written share or help your less-than-prepared peers. If any assistance is given to the students, then I'd say five points for camaraderie would be in order."

After a few more questions, the headmistress was allowed to sit down and start her meal, but that wasn't the end of the show. For as she sat, the doors to the hall burst open, and four teams of law keepers came marching down the aisles between the tables, waving thin, golden things that looked like television aerials. Harry even saw his cousin making the rounds, one of two Aurors that came into the hall. Tonks, after addressing the mead table, made a beeline for Harry.

"Hello, Harry!" called the Metamorph, her hair going through a riot of colors as her mood shifted at the sight of her little cousin, gaining many gawking looks from his classmates.

"Hey, Tonks. What are those golden things?"

The young Auror turned her head to look at the Lawkeeper holding the thing gold rod. "Prodigy probes! They're some of the most powerful and valuable Dark Magic detection equipment. The Board of Governors had to petition the Wizengamot to allow their use in the school. If there's anything Dark here, we'll—" A high-pitched whining filled the air, and Tonks stopped speaking. All the eyes in the hall turned in their places to see what had set it off.

"No," said Ron.

"Genny!" several red heads called throughout the hall, but that was all anyone had time to do before Ginny had been stunned, put into a full body bind, and had conjured ropes wrapped around her. The only thing that could be counted as a positive was that Ginny didn't get hurt as Tonks quickly cast a levitation charm and stopped the first year from hitting the ground. Professor Weasley stormed up, already steaming mad. "What IS the meaning of this? How dare you attack my daughter, you-"

But she was cut off by Tonks. "I'm sorry, Molly, but we have our orders. Any student who sets off the probes is to be apprehended for the safety of the school. I'm sorry, Molly, my hands are tied. I'll get Arthur as soon as I get to the ministry, I promise." Tonks then gave Harry a reassuring half-hug before pulling Ginny behind her with her wand, leaving a stunned and silent hall behind her. Three more students were given the same treatment, all Slytherins—two seventh years and one sixth year.

Not two hours went by before the school was in complete bedlam. Students ran hither and thither, bumping into each other as they scoured the school for information to cram into their notebooks. Hermione, upon deciding not to recreate her extensive note collection, had decided—after the sixth consecutive student asked to borrow a particular chapter of notes for transcription—to post up in the Great Hall where all students could comb through her notes that were spread out across the Gryffindor table under the supervision of at least three teachers so that no student made off with Hermione's notes or destroyed them as Crabbe and Goyle had tried to do, most likely on Malfoy's orders, but Harry didn't have any proof, so he didn't accuse the blond ponce of anything. That stunt had cost Slytherin fifty points in total for trying to sabotage an act of great charity.

They had succeeded in their goal. The potion they "accidentally" spilled on the parchment ate it away like tissue paper in a monsoon, but it was revealed that the parchment on the table was simply a Geminio'd copy of Hermione's notes that was subsequently copied again and laid out for further perusal by the students. Harry had no need to compile new notes either, so instead, he spent the day with Hermione helping Ron and Neville Longbottom compile a workable pile of notes for each subject.

The Aurors and law keepers could even be spotted helping the students from time to time on that first day of panic.

Saturday came, and the Gryffindor trio, joined by Daphne Greengrass and her friend Tracy Davis, had fled to the now-abandoned room that the year previously held Fluffy, Hagrid's giant three-headed dog. Tracy, Ron, and Neville still sat writing diligent notes, but the other trio of Hermione, Daphne, and Harry all sat off to one side as they took a break from studying. As Daphne did what she had said she would, she began to teach the two wizarding etiquette.

"And so, you see, most pureblood wizards find it extremely offensive to be forced to ingest anything related to the non-magical population. That's why we stick with these old traditions and why the heads of the house use 'warlock' as a title. It was originally used to distinguish their families from the non-magical lords of medieval Europe, whom they saw as enemies, especially after the multiple mass 'witch burnings.' This is the most important thing you need to learn: every head of house is a 'warlock [surname].'"

That's not to say we don't have titles in our world. We have three, but they are mainly used during wartime, as they relay the number of houses you have in subservience. There is an archmage who has at least five families sworn to him, a magister who has ten families sworn to him, and an archon who has at least twenty families. These titles haven't been used since the fall of Rome. However, knowing these titles is useless, just added context.

The lesson continued for Harry and Hermione for another ten minutes, focusing on the modes of address for wizarding high society before the small troop spent several hours practicing the spells they had learned or were supposed to learn in all their classes. Lockhart wasn't big on practical demonstrations. And so went Sunday in a like manner, except Daphne and Tracy didn't join them, most likely because they couldn't sneak away from their housemates. The only thing to break the monotony was the reappearance of Smara, who had obviously had cleaning charms cast on her. When they returned to the Gryffindor common room before dinner, they were rather shocked to see Bill there, surrounded by newt Gryffindors all clamoring for different pieces of information. When he spotted Harry, however, he quickly silenced his petitioners and walked over.

"Hey Harry, I'm sorry to bother you while you're studying, but I need to know as soon as possible what you're doing for the holidays?"

"Er, I was just going to spend them at my home in Diagon, or Potter Manor."

"So you've unlocked your family's manor? That's fantastic. Snape thinks there are some old Dark Arts books that might be in your library. Most of the old families have some, but according to the sallow one himself, the only family he knows for certain that has the book has denied him permission to go anywhere near it. He was hoping he could search your library to see if you had a copy."

"And why wouldn't he just ask me himself?"

"Professor Snape is a great potioneer, but a terrible person. He no doubt finds it difficult to ask any favors from the son of a man he so famously hated. So he asked my boss to set the message forward, and then he asked me. So? Will you let Snape into your family library?"

"If it will help those three, then I don't see a problem with it. Tell him he can come the day after I return home."

"Will do, Harry. Now, if you don't mind, I need to return to this lot. They're about to start panicking, and it's not even N.E.W.T. time yet." Bill rolls his eyes as he backs away into the throng of questioning students.

As Harry and Hermione tossed questions back and forth, Ron's older flame-haired twin brothers, Fred and George Weasley, walked up to the two friends.

"Why, I do find myself wondering what the great Harry Potter and the lovely Granger are doing."

"Well, it does appear that they are studying."

"Well spotted, my less good-looking twin, but what I mean to say is, why are they studying?"

"Ah, that's a fair point, Greg. It seems that they don't really have any competition around here. They'll probably ace tests up to fourth year at this point."

"Don't be stupid," hermione interrupted the grinning twins. "Me and Harry would probably do better at our owls right now that you two will combined."

"Ouch!" the twins said in unison.

"Who knew the kitten had claws that sharp?" asked George.

"What do you two clowns want?" asked Harry.

"Nothing your little heads need to worry about, just stretching and taking a break from our studies," said Fred.

Both the second years snorted in disbelief just as a loud pop sounded, and several columns of multicolored smoke filled the room—thick, billowing blankets of smoke that quickly filled the entire common room to the point you couldn't see a hand in front of your face. As people began to complain, the smoke came together to form words and phrases above the crowd, things like:

"Be stronger than your excuses."

"It always seems impossible until it's done."

"Study, or you shall not pass." and

"You're an idiot. Study harder!"

While also displaying caricatures of wizards reading tiny books with huge magnifying glasses or a wizard holding a staff in front of him, banging it on the nonexistent ground.

The whole room seemed to ease up a bit, and the mood lightened somewhat with the twins' antics. The Sunday afternoon passed into evening, bringing dinner and, after dinner, bedtime and the start of the emergency testing sessions.

Monday and Tuesday brought all of the second-year classes their theory tests, but Wednesday and Thursday were for practicals.

After his theory exams, Harry found himself waiting to be called into the Great Hall to sit his Defense midterm practicals. He was studying and practicing the wand movements for the various spells that he had read from the " Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2." Spells like Flipendo, Verdimillious, Rictusempra, and various other spells that would be shot at a practice dummy, according to the twins anyway. As he waited and others were called, he noticed that no one returned, not even Hermione, which was a shame. He would have liked to ask her how she did but understood that some people would pass back information.

He was jolted back to awareness from his reading when Flitwick, who had opened the door, called out, "Miss Patil, Patil, and Parkinson."

Now he knew he was next. His nerves were starting to come up. He looked next to himself at Oliver Rivers, a quiet Ravenclaw boy whom Harry had never interacted with. He was also pale with nerves.

"Potter, Rivers, Roper," were called when the door opened up again when Harry walked into the Great Hall. After calling good luck to Ron, who was still waiting, Harry saw that the House tables and benches had disappeared and were replaced with three wide sections with one proctor in each section. True to the twins' warning, he was expected to hit a target dummy with the spells they called out, and without fail, he hit the static target with each spell. Flitwick, who was Harry's proctor, called out. The diminutive Charms Master seemed pleased but not surprised by Harry's skill. After a time, he halted his instructions and gestured to the other two, who, to Harry's surprise, had been asked to collect a troop of Cornish Pixies into a cage provided. Harry looked around in silence for his cage, but Flitwick spoke up and explained.

"As you can see, Mr. Potter, the agreed-upon test was to collect Cornish pixies, as had happened in your first class. The headmistress thought it a good test to see how far your class has come. But we were already aware that you and your friend, Miss Granger, had already done this, so we endeavored to find a different test. And so I devised a test taking into account your sporty nature." And the Charms master waved and flicked his wand, and a collection of round cushions appeared on the floor, and different-sized hoops appeared on the wall in a pyramid opposite the cushions.

"The test is simple: put as many cushions through the hoops as you can. The biggest hoops are worth 2 points, the medium size is 4, the small is 6, and that tiny one up at the top of the pyramid is worth 10. The cushions are also points: the lightest cushions at 1 pound are worth 1 point, the mildly heavy cushions at 5 pounds are worth 3, and the heaviest at 10 pounds are worth 5 points. To pass, all you must do is make 100 points before you run out of cushions."

"Harry grinned and began levitating with Wingardium Leviosa and using Flipendo and every other spell he knew that could send things flying in accurate directions at the cushions. He missed a few times, and the cushions that bounced off the hoops burst into fire and disappeared, but most of the ones he sent flying soared through the hoop he was aiming at and sank through the hoops to become golden bricks that thunked down to the floor below. Finally, at Harry's last five points, he went for some extra credit and pointed his wand at the heaviest cushion and flung it up, up, up, and straight into the tiny hoop at the peak of the pyramid, gaining 15 points."

"Thanks, Professor. You might have thought up a new game we can play around Hogwarts. That was fun," replied Harry.

"Hmm, I shall ask the headmistress. When I was a boy, we had "summer courts"—courts scattered around the campus for students. But the game and the boards fell out of style and into disrepair and were done away with but not replaced with anything. It was fun while it had lasted, even if it was a touch old-fashioned, even in my day."

"What's Summoner's Court, Professor?" asked Harry, genuinely curious.

"Oh, a simple game! You would use Accio to pull heavy spheres toward three differently pointed zones. It was meant to teach control more than any actual competition, but it was still fun to beat your friends."

Harry left the hall with his two fellow testees, very satisfied with his test results, and returned to the common room where he was immediately accosted by his bushy-haired best friend.

"Harry! How did it go? Did you do well? I think I might have messed up my Flipendo, and I tripped while casting Varimillious and hit the dummy's shoulder. I don't know if that will count against me. And then that end test—did you have to catch the pixies, or did they find a unique test like they did for me?" Hermione, always excitable, said this all very quickly and in one breath.

"I think I did well. I made sure to center myself like we learned in the dueling club and gave myself a grounded stance, so I was steadier. And yeah, they gave me a unique test, kind of like basketball. Really, it was fun. What did they have you do?" replied Harry after a second to decipher what Hermione had said.

"Oh, it seemed that it was something similar to your test cushions and hoops?" At Harry's nod, the two went and began last-minute revision for their Transfiguration practical the next day.

"Do you think they'll keep the Quidditch game that was supposed to be this weekend, or will they send us home on Saturday after the tests?"

"I suppose we can ask the headmistress at dinner? I say so now, but I don't think we're allowed to roam around at the moment. We were told to come straight back here after testing."

"True enough, I wish there were something we could do, you know? I know Smara is helping as much as possible, and the staff is as well."

"Harry, I know you want to help, but it's not our job or our place. You are helping come either the weekend or Monday when you'll be opening that giant library your family has to Snape and the Cursebreakers. I don't know much, but I know books on necromantic anything are extremely restricted and hard to find. Even your family might only own one book, if any, that gives even the most basic details on that language."

"Thanks, Hermione. Still, I wonder if any of the Slytherins have any information? This guy is supposed to be his "true heir," right?"

"It's hard to say without going down there and spying on them, hoping someone starts blathering about it, which isn't likely, Harry. I don't think it would be worth the risk."

Harry shrugged in response, not wanting to voice how much he actually wanted to sneak into the Slytherin common room. Instead, he returned to trying to transfigure a flobberworm into various colors and designs.

Early the next morning at breakfast, every adult in the building was once again in an uproar. The reason why became clear as an unfamiliar brown owl swooped down and dropped a letter onto Percy's bacon. Upon the prefect unfolding the letter, he walked over to Ron, who was sitting between the twins, all three staring at their older brother, waiting.

"It's a letter from Father addressed to all of us. It's about Ginny. He says—ah—he says that Ginny has been released from DMLE custody and has been cleared of all wrongdoing. He says that Ginny was possessed by an enchanted diary that was no longer in her possession when she was arrested. Her body is weak, and her mind foggy, but she will recover as the influence of the possession is cleared. He hopes that testing is going well, and he wishes everyone luck. Oh, and he has invited Harry and Hermione over at some point during the break," explained Percy while reading the letter.

"So, so Ginny will be okay? She's not going to Azkaban?" Ron asked thickly.

"It doesn't appear so. I told you all it wasn't just homesickness. We need to look out for each other more." His brothers all agreed with him.

As the day progressed, Harry learned through Oliver Wood that all Quidditch games had been postponed. On top of the bad news about Quidditch, Harry couldn't help the feeling that he was being watched. With the portraits, ghosts, students, and faculty, Harry had gotten used to the sensation, so why it was bothering him now, he could not understand. But a few times in between his tests, he thought he saw a ghost standing at the end of the hallways.

But ghosts can't have red eyes, can they?

well, this was a short one for how much stuff that happened

what happens next, find out next time on dragon bal‐ wait wrong script sorry.

Chapter Text

Chapter 25: Secrets at Blackstone
"'CRACK!'

Harry fell to the ground, gasping for air and trying his best not to lose his lunch. He had learned from Ted Tonks' many trips to Apparate him that he did not like Apparition. Harry had thought that he had grown accustomed to it, but perhaps not Apparating for four months had weakened the tolerance he had built up.

"Pathetic Potter, can you not even apparate without making a scene?" Chided snape, although he was missing the old vitriol he used in the first year when insulting Harry.

"Obviously not, Professor." Harry said, straightening up while still gasping for air and groaning. "That is the most unpleasant sensation I've ever experienced, and I broke seven bones earlier this year."

The sallow bat snorted out a slight laugh. "Your father was quite the same during our apparition lessons. It was one of the only times a piece of magic managed to shut his fat mouth."

Harry chose not to respond to Snape's ribbing about his father. Harry straightened up the rest of the way and took in the majestic structure of his family home. Harry cleared his throat and called out, "I, Harry James Potter, the Lord Potter, welcome Severus Snape into this house for the duration of this visit only." Harry had decided to make Snape ask permission to come back, no matter his recent change in attitude toward Harry. He still didn't like the older man.

As he and Snape continued up the drive, he thought of a question. "So, what book are you looking for? One of my elves, Tappy, runs the library and will most likely know if we have it." And at that, Tappy herself popped in front of them just as they were about to enter the mudroom of the library.

"I am looking for a book titled "Sanguine Lingua: A Translation by Enoch." It is, to my knowledge, one of the only near-complete runic compendiums for the necromantic script." The potions master explained to Harry.

"Well, Tappy, do we have that book?" Harry asked brightly.

"I is not knowing, sir, that book sounds like it would be in the masters private vault, sir, many dark magics are held there." Tappy said with much chagrin.

"That's okay, Tappy. Can you show us to the master's vault? You didn't take us there during the tour, did you?"

"Oh no, sir, no, we are not showing you there it is down below the sub basement. I have never even been seeing the door."

"'Crack!' Tuppy appeared; his old visage had somewhat decreased. Being fed on the increased allotment of awoken family magic appeared to be helping him regain some youth.

"I can show you the way master. but your guest must stay else the family magic will - do unpleasant things." The old elf shivered.

"But he has to come! I don't know what I'm looking for. Can't I grant him permission to come with me?"

"It's fine, Potter. Most old family mansions have areas like that. You will most likely see the Potter family's biggest secrets in that vault. It is not meant for outsiders. While you are there, I will search the library for further references." With Harry's nod, the professor walked off, the cloak billowing behind him.

Harry gestured for Tuppy to lead on, and the elf led through the library, past the kitchen, down a flight of stairs, and through the basement, down another flight of stairs, and through the sub-basement, past a door marked "Pantry/Canning Storage." Intrigued, he peered into the room and saw what was essentially a grocery store. The walls were lined with shelves as well as three aisles of shelf space that ran along a room that must have been fifty feet long. Empty canning jars filled the shelves, except for a few still-full specimens dotted here and there.

"Are these safe to eat, Tuppy?"

"I thinks so sir but I is not an expert in muggle canning mistress dorea did this as a way to help the muggles during their war and kept it up after the war becuase she liked doing these picklings these filled jars are all that's left of hers pickles the jar of eggs is well over 30 years old. I'se not recomend eatings those'

"Hmm, maybe I'll pick it back up during the summer? It would pass the time, at least," said Harry before continuing down another flight of stairs. Then, after the elf unlocked the hatch, he went straight down a ladder for a seemingly endless journey downward before coming to a door that glowed red with a handprint on its tarnished surface.

"You must place your hand on the mark, Master. The door will open. I know not what it asks for." And then Tuppy popped away with a scared look in his eyes.

Harry turned and looked at the ancient silver door that pulsed with a strange, ethereal crimson light. He reached out and placed his palm down on the red handprint. He tried to pull away when he felt it was wet and slimy, but he couldn't; his hand was stuck to the door, and trying to pull away got him nowhere. But he froze when a voice echoed forth—not in his ear or in his mind, but from the door.

"What do we have here? The newest Lord Potter? A bit young, aren't you?"

"Who—what are you?"

"My name is Blackstone. I am the magic of this house, but I was once a wizard named Garland. It was my life that fueled the magic and wards for this hall, and it is the wizard Garland's personality and voice that I speak so that I may ascertain the worthiness of all the later Potter Lords who come to this door seeking entry."

"And how do you ascertain that?"

"By touching the door, I am not here to instruct you on how magic works, child."

Whatever force held Harry's hand vanished, and Harry pulled his hand away, the cool, wet liquid sticking to his palm, which Harry quickly cleaned off with a few evenescos. The door popped open, and Harry saw the most horrible sight he had seen yet: a skeleton wreathed in ethereal tendrils of red magic, with the eye sockets of the skeleton glowing a bright red as well. This putrid sight was what provided the only light in the room.

The room itself was small, about twenty feet by twenty feet. One wall was covered by an ancient bookcase with about three dozen books on it and a few dozen more scrolls. The other parts of the room were covered in what Harry could only call display cases filled with odd artifacts, weapons, the skeleton of a strange many-legged creature, and in one corner, a mummified severed head and a spike that seemed to still be oozing blood down the pike. Harry walked over to one of the display cases and saw an earthenware chalice, an ornate golden ball with a tag labeled "Eden—do not touch," and a rusty spear that appeared to be covered in fresh blood, once again with a note: "Retrieved from Grindelwald's Muggle commander, 1943, Berlin, Germany, A.H."

Harry had no clue what any of this was or how an old clay cup was so dangerous as to be locked away down here for however many centuries. Finally, Harry noticed a picture on the wall, the sole occupant watching him with silent suspicion. After approaching the painting, he could see the name tag on the frame: GARLAND.

"Your garland, Potter?" The painting didn't respond right away; he was apparently still sizing him up.

"—Yes," it responded in a clipped tone. "What are you looking for down here, boy? It is my job to direct this room."

"So you know where everything is?" asked Harry.

"Obviously, you dolt! Has the education in this country gone so soft? What has my cousin's school been doing these past centuries?"

Harry ignored the question because he suspected it was rhetorical.

"What was Charlus thinking, passing the lordship to a little runt like you?"

"He didn't have much of a choice, being dead and all," Harry snapped at the painting.

"hmpf! what is it you want. DONT TOUCH THAT YOU IDIOT!" Harry was about to touch a very odd looking crystal dagger.

"That is a ritual dagger found in the center of Stonehenge. It's nearly 30 thousand years old and has enough magic stored in it to melt half the planet! Touch nothing unless I tell you. These things in this room are dangerous, hidden away here so no one can use them for the wrong reasons."

"Err, I'm looking for a book—a book that translates the necromantic rune script called "Sanguine Lingua."

"The painting narrowed its eyes at Harry. And why is someone so young trying to learn the necromantic language? If you're the Lord, that means Charluses spawn and Muggle-born wife died before he was meant to. You're not trying to bring them back, are you?"

"No, there's some crazy thing going around Hogwarts carving necromantic runes into students' skin and draining their life force. Do we have the book or not?"

"Third shelf, eighth book on the left of the middle divider. Also, grab the scroll with the Berkana rune on the knob as well. The second cubbyhole down on the right should be black and..."

But he was cut off as Harry yelled, "Got it!" and waved the scroll above his head.

"I can take these out of here, right? I can't read anything in this room's red light."

"You are the lord of this house. I dare say you can do as you please."

With his treasure in hand, Harry went back for the door but stopped. "Garland? Is that you?" Harry pointed to the skeleton frozen in time, kneeling on its knees, arms scrunched to its chest, and head thrown back in a long-dead, silent scream.

"Yes, giving myself to wards was most likely not a pleasant decision or experience, good thing those memories were not added to my portrait, else I'd probably be as mad as a hatter. To watch the process was most likely even worse than experiencing it, but none of my family ever spoke of it after it was done."

"Can you go to the other parts of the house?"

"Yes, but I rarely do. After a millennium or so, social outreach loses its charm."

"Well, I'm going to be here for about 2 months. I'd like to learn more about my family history. I never got to meet my parents, you know."

"Doesn't Charlus have a portrait you can bother?"

"I don't think so. There aren't a lot of talking portraits here. Well, goodbye, Garland."

"Fare thee well, Lord Potter," the portrait said before going to sleep.

After leaving the vault and finding his way back to the main floor through the two ways to the creepy basement levels, and then finding his way to the library carrying the heavy tome and thick scroll, Harry was shocked when, upon entering, he discovered Snape bound to a chair, hanging upside down and arguing with Peeves, who was also upside down, floating in midair. Harry stared in shock as the two argued about Snape's magic use in the library.

"Let me down, you stupid creature. I was only summoning a book to me from a high shelf!"

"No! you is bad wizard, you be breaking rules!"

"Just you wait until I-" Snape finally noticed Harry.

"Potter! Order your elf to let me down at once!"

"Tappy, put the professor down. He didn't know your rules. I'm sorry, that's my fault for not telling him."

"Snape, don't threaten my elves when they're just following orders and protecting my property. Using magic in the library is forbidden. There are ladders here for a reason."

Snape disappeared for a split second before reappearing, unbound, standing directly below where he had been floating. "Excellent. Did you find the damned books or not?"

"I did, and I think I found another reference scroll. Be gentle with both; they both look more ancient than Hogwarts."

"That is most likely true. Would you mind if I left to work with these in my office, or would you prefer I remain here on the grounds?"

"Feel free to make yourself at home, Professor. I don't think the house will let those who enter leave the property." At those ominous words, Snape peered around, looking at the walls and ceiling. "Indeed."

The potions master got to work translating the complex runic diagram that had been carved onto the students. Harry left to explore his house more. He went to inspect the instruments hidden below the dance floor that he hadn't been able to see last time and found a large, well-furnished potions lab situated in a well-ventilated room above the library. Harry immediately took stock of the over two hundred empty jars of items and ingredients and left for a trip to his apothecary. Over this year, with Snape's improvement in teaching, Harry found he liked brewing potions, and since he was allowed to do magic outside of school, he figured he'd start brewing more potions and experimenting with techniques. Given that train of thought, he also bought a whole set of brand-new equipment to replace his grandfather's set that was probably pushing 40 years old. Late in the day after returning home and making out and replacing all the beakers, alembics, retorts, cauldrons, and everything else, the sun was setting. Harry had just set the fire under a medium-sized cauldron, preparing to brew a long-term potion he had found in his grandfather's notes, a potion he had invented but had never gotten around to publishing.

"The Mood Potion," a derivative of Polyjuice inspired by the Metamorphmagus, will, when ingested, make a person's hair, eyes, and fingernails and toenails change colors depending on their mood." A note was scribbled into the margin next to the description: "I feel I must note that this is a challenge given to me by my son, James, who will probably prank the whole of Hogwarts with it."

Right as Harry began preparing the ingredients for the first step, Snape walked in and froze. He was taken aback by the sight of the shining potions lab and Harry utilizing it.

The potion master narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing, Potter?"

"Preparing the ingredients, sir."

"Why are you preparing ingredients, you insolent child?"

Smirking, Harry replied simply, "To brew a potion, can't you tell?"

Snape nearly went into a fit. Talking through his teeth, Snape said, "Unless you have prepared lodgings for me, I must leave and sleep."

"No, no, feel free to stay, Toppy!" Harry replied before calling for the youngest elf, who appeared with a loud 'CRACK.'

"Would you please escort Mr. Snape to a guest room and also show him where the nearest bathroom is to the room you choose for him."

"Professor, follow the elf. They'll also bring you clothes and have yours cleaned and laundered by morning."

"Right then," the dour potions master said before following the elf out of the lab, looking around the room as he left before stopping and gesturing to a set of glass tubes that Harry had set up. "May I?" Snape asked, and at Harry's nod, he rearranged the set slightly. "This is the proper setup for this concentrator. You most likely confused a few pieces while rebuilding it."

"No, actually, my grandfather's setup was lacking several pieces. The person who runs my apothecary said it was outdated about 25 years ago," said Harry.

Snape looked around at the ingredients strewn about the table in front of Harry. "Ah, it looks like you're making Polyjuice. Why are you making such a complex potion?"

Harry sighed, deciding not to raise Snape's blood pressure any further. "I'm not. This potion is from my grandfather's books. It's just based off the Polyjuice process," Harry said, indicating an open book, which Snape walked over and examined.

"This is still a very advanced potion, Potter. Do you really think you have the skills to brew a potion like this?" asked Snape, sounding like he was trying to keep the derision to a minimum.

"Well, you know I'm not an expert, but my grandfather wrote that the execution is simple enough. What makes it hard is the sheer amount of time it takes to brew—a full moon cycle. Only three sections have to be advanced at the perfect time, which I have the calculations necessary to find those times. I just need to time when the brewing starts."

Grandfather wrote his journals as if they were textbooks, with caveats and explanations, sometimes for every step. It's very helpful. I'm sure that I can keep up with this using these instructions.

"While I am here, Potter, I implore you to come to me if you have questions. It would be against my duty as a—a potions master if I let you get hurt, because you're too much of a dunderhead to ask for help when you need it." Snape hesitated in his speech, seeming to pick a different word at the last second.

"I will, Professor, thank you," Harry responded as he went back to mincing some vervain root, a root that produces different colors depending on how you treat it. About an hour went by, and Harry lay in his bed in the master suite of Blackstone Manor wondering what his friends were doing now. What was Hermione doing? What was Ron up to? How was Ginny's recovery going? Harry decided to go check out the Weasleys' home soon, and he drifted off to sleep.

The first week back at Blackstone Manor was very productive for Harry. On top of fixing up and using his grandfather's potions lab, Harry also helped the elves to modernize the bar/lounge area above the formal ballroom. Harry and Hermione, who had come over during the time that her parents were at work, introduced Kreacher to the Dewey Decimal System that Muggle libraries use, and the two spent several days completely reorganizing the Potter family library and reprogramming the index book to function with the new system. Daphne came over a few times and worked on tutoring them in proper wizarding society as well as to pass along an invitation for Harry to come to the Greengrass Manor New Year's celebration.

Several people, from Headmistress McGonagall to the Minister, came by the manor to get a progress report from Snape, and it was always the same response from the dour man.

"Translating the necromantic runes is a long, drawn-out, and time-consuming process. It takes the time it takes, and there is no speeding up the process without making a critical error." Hermione had asked if she could assist him in any way, but he almost politely turned her down.

"Do you miss Granger speak or know how to read or write Sumerian? Or do you know who can translate Sumerian to Latin and then into English? No? Then you will be of no use to me."

"Well, I would like to learn—"

"To pass on knowledge of the necromantic languages and magics in any form is a sentence to Azkaban, no less than ten years. I have done many things I hate to avoid such a fate. Now, if you would be so kind as to stop pestering me, girl!"

"But if it's illegal, wouldn't Harry get in trouble for-"

"No, he will not, as I can already read, write, translate, and use these runes. Due to my unfortunate background, I have this knowledge. So allowing me to read these books is not illegal at all, and owning the books is not illegal either, provided they are kept away from easily accessible reach."

"But you're a teacher. Surely they wouldn't allow you near students if-"

"Enough, girl! Leave me be!" And Hermione left. Neither Harry nor Hermione spoke to Snape for the rest of his visit, which ended a little over two weeks before Christmas. But even though he did not speak to the two teens, either Snape would appear in Harry's potions lab each night and double-check Harry's work, either giving quiet nods and leaving or silent corrections to Harry's processes.

Three days after Snape left, a letter arrived from Hogwarts, inviting him to return to school early to assist the curse-breaking teams.

("Dear Lord Potter,

If you would be so kind as to come to Hogwarts as soon as it is convenient, the Gringotts curse-breaking team is requesting your assistance in the manner previously asked of you. Smara is also impatient to see you again.

-Minerva McGonagall)

Chapter Text

Harry wasn't sure what was going on.

He could barely open his eyes, unable to make out the world around him. His ears were ringing, and he could hear distant shouts and muffled voices.

His front was cold and wet, and he was dimly aware that he was getting poked by hundreds of tiny, sharp objects.

Harry groaned and raised himself up on his elbows and knees, coughing up blood.

"Please let that be from me biting my tongue."

"Harry!" shouted a distant voice. Except it wasn't distant. He looked up as he saw a pair of shoes standing in front of him. Upon seeing Bill, it all came back to him.

Harry rode in a Thestral-drawn carriage up the front drive of Hogwarts Castle, across the great stone bridge, and to the front doors of the ancient school, where Headmistress McGonagall was waiting for him.

"Greetings, Lord Potter. Professor Snape has told me you are keeping busy at your family manor?”

““Yes, ma’am. I thought I’d experiment with some of my family’s potion recipes,” said Harry.

“A worthwhile and understandable pastime. As long as the Weasley twins don’t get ahold of whatever you are making.”

“No, ma’am. I thought I’d use it and carry on my dad’s legacy,” Harry said with a cheeky smile.

“Well, unfortunately, those Marauders always said they’d haunt me from beyond the grave,” the Scottish professor said in an undertone. “Come, we’ll meet the team at the chamber’s entrance.

And true, they did. There were now three teams of Cursebreakers working: one working on the door, the other two twiddling their wands in the air in the surrounding area.

Three hours later found them still standing in front of the door with Bill kicking it in sheer frustration. Harry had started saying the passcode 50 times now, and each time he was stopped in different areas.

“Damn it! Damn it, dammit!” Bill said with each kick to the massive door. “I thought we had it this time.”

“Then it's time we prepare for Plan B, I'm afraid,” said the Headmistress.

“What's Plan B, Headmistress?” asked Harry.

“It's something I'm disgusted is even necessary, and no, I can't tell you what it is. Simply put, it's a race against the clock.”

“A race? Either you stop whatever the ritual is fueling, or—” surmised Harry.

“Yes, I'm afraid.”

“Damn.”

“Language, Potter, but yes, ‘damn’ indeed.” The Scottish professor corrected, but with no heat to her voice.

“WAIT!” called a cursebreaker from a team down the passage. “I think we have something. It's ancient, way older than the changed locks. Let's see, Potter, come here and repeat after me.”

“Auditis verba mea, serpent's magnus et aperi ianuam magnum tuam.”

Everyone gathered around him, ready to barge in as Harry repeated the man's words in Parseltongue. The snakes moved, but not in the way they expected. Instead of slithering into the center of the door, the snakes flared off the door and sent a jet of green magic from their mouths out into the center of the room. When the green fireballs came together, a massive explosion was brought forth, loud noise and hot fire filling the room around them. Harry was flung back and knocked out against a far wall.

Harry wasn't sure what was going on.

He could barely open his eyes, unable to make out the world around him. His ears were ringing, and he could hear distant shouts and muffled voices. His front was cold and wet, and he was dimly aware that he was getting poked by hundreds of tiny, sharp objects.

Harry groaned and raised himself up on his elbows and knees, spitting up blood. "Please let that be from me biting my tongue."

"Harry!" shouted a voice. Except it wasn't distant. He looked up as he saw a pair of shoes standing in front of him. Upon seeing Bill, it all came back to him.

"Harry, mate? You okay?" A worried Bill asked, kneeling on the ground in front of him. "Anything broken? Buttocks still on?"

"Yeah—I think my tongue is bleeding," Harry wheezed out. "Is everyone okay?"

"No," Bill said, looking back, "but don't worry, they'll be fine in a few days. Hazards of curse-breaking, you get blown up from time to time. Come on, let's get you back up to the castle." And he pulled Harry along, limping all the while.

Harry caught a glimpse of the crater that was the stone floor before and various curse-breakers on the ground, and a severed arm, before his view was obstructed by Bill pulling him up the stairs.

As they climbed through the school, Harry was beginning to feel slightly dizzy. When he told Bill this, the young Curse-Breaker hurried them along to the hospital wing. But when he got there, he was surprised to see one more student, a first-year girl judging by her size, with wispy blonde hair. Her body was covered in bloody bandages.

“She was found a few days after the school emptied out in an abandoned classroom. The last victim of whatever had possessed Ginny. She looks a lot better than when we found her. I wasn't sure if she was going to make it or not. Ginny will be devastated when we tell her. Luna is her best friend and lives on the other side of the hills that surround the Burrow.”

Harry didn't know how to react or what to say. That feeling of helplessness surrounded him again. Harry was about to speak, but Bill cut him off. “Don't worry, Harry. This isn't your fault or your job. The only reason you're being brought in is because you are the only free Parselmouth.” Their conversation was brought to an end when Madam Pomfrey came bustling up to the two new arrivals.

“And just why does it look like you've both been blown up!” asked the matron.

“Because we were!” replied Bill jauntily.

Theatrical replied with a disapproving grunt before starting to scan the two, magically casting diagnostic and minor healing spells.

“Right, you're both alright. Minor inner ear damage, and Mr. Potter had a bruised lung. Both of you, drink these Wiggenweld potions, and you'll be right as rain. Rest here for an hour while the potion works its magic.” The healer said before walking off back to her office.

Harry saw this as a good spot to revive their conversation. “There are more?” asked Harry. “Parselmouths, I mean.”

“Of course! It is an exceedingly rare gift, but there's about—I don't know, I'd say about 100 Parselmouths in the world. But even Gringotts can only contact a handful of them, and they are all busy with other time-sensitive, unique bits of magic. The one I know personally is in Aruba, working on dismantling a Parsel magic ward scheme that is blocking rescuers from reaching twelve teams of curse-breakers that went into newly discovered ruins underneath a petroglyph.”

“A preto-what?” asked Harry, giving up on the new word midway through.

“Petro-glyphs are giant ground markings. Ancient civilizations used them to mark important sites. They were especially used in the Americas: Aruba, Peru, Honduras. Most of them have been found to have several treasure hordes nearby. And many Mesoamerican cultures revered the feathered serpents as gods, so of course their priests were Parselmouths, and thus Parsel magic was used. They’re still trying to find a free Parselmouth, but as you’re the only one we have now, we have to call you, even though you’re much too young to be worrying about this stuff.”

“Bill, how many people were hurt down there—”

“Don’t. Worry. About. It. HARRY. It was nothing permanent.”

“Someone lost an arm!”

“And in three days, they'll have a shiny new one, as if it never happened. I've been a Cursebreaker for a year, and I'm already on hand number three. DO NOT TELL MY MOTHER THAT. Curse-breaking is dangerous; it happens, but thankfully, with magic, it's almost always reversible. Unless dark magic was involved, which there wasn't in that trap or on the door. Everyone is fine. You're fine. They're fine. I'm fine. Quit worrying and go back home to your big manor and enjoy your extended holiday. We will call you again when we need you," said Bill, losing his temper slightly at Harry.

"And when will that be?"

"In a few days, at least. Severus is working on a reversal of the ritual to coincide with the actual ritual. Now, go. I need to stay here, though I think I have a concussion. You can Floo home by yourself, yeah?"

"Yes, I'll be fine, thanks, Bill."

"No problem, Harry. I'll let everyone know you're doing okay. Yeah?"

"Yeah," said Harry, in a very morose voice.

It was several days later that Harry found himself sitting in the library of Blackstone Manor with Hermione and, surprisingly, Professor Snape, who had come back to reference the Potter family dark rune book.

“"You know, Harry, I find it rather sad this year, casting aside the horrible events going on. I was rather looking forward to exploring the Chamber of Secrets with you and Smara. It would have been ever so interesting to get there before the Ministry picked it clean," said Hermione.

"Yeah..." replied Harry. "Smara says there's a bunch of really interesting books that Slytherin himself wrote. Maybe I can petition to keep them? As his last known living relative."

"That would be very wise and incredibly foolish of you, Potter," sneered the professor, his nose still in his book.

"Why's that?" Harry said, bemused that this had been the first time that Snape had spoken at all in four hours.

"It would be wise to lay a family claim over any magic or knowledge in that chamber, Potter, because then the Ministry would lose access to all of it under house law. They could examine all things and determine if it was summarily a dark artifact. But as these things are so ancient, they will be 'grandfathered' out of the law that would normally see them confiscated.”

It would be foolish for the same reasons, as doing that would make several high-up and important people in the Ministry very angry with you, Potter. But angering your betters has never seemed to perturb you before, so ever onward, I say.

Harry, narrowing his eyes at the man but refusing to let the dour potions master anger him, refused to speak and simply got up and walked away toward the large bay window letting in the dreary mid-day winter light. It had started snowing; it seemed that it was going to be a blizzard. It was quickly agreed upon by the three inhabitants that it would be best to part ways before the weather trapped them. Snape had explained that the Floo Network acted oddly during blizzards, something about the cold affecting the fire's magic. Thus, Harry found himself alone aside from his trusted owl and the four house elves that lived in his manor. So Harry went around the empty rooms filled only with covered antiques. It put him in a rather glum mood, despite the bright decorations that filled the halls and more commonly used rooms. Hermione had implored him to come home with her, that her parents loved him and wouldn't mind him staying. But Harry knew that despite liking the Grangers a lot, he wasn't family. And Christmas was a time for family. And then he had an idea, an idea so obvious he was immediately surprised he hadn't thought of it before.

““Tuppy!”

‘CRACK!’ “Yes, Master Harry?”

“Do you know where my parents are buried? I’ve never been allowed to visit their graves.”

“Oh, Master,” said Tuppy, looking sad and simply holding out his hand. When Harry grabbed the elf’s hand, he was immediately whisked away from where he was and popped out in a medium-sized cemetery beside a small church. Tuppy was nowhere to be seen, but with the thick blanket of snow on the ground and the flakes floating in the air, the small creature could have been standing beside Harry and he wouldn’t have known. Still, his elf friend’s voice carried out of the wind.

“Master James and Mistress Lily are buried here in the cemetery of Godric’s Hollow. As are several members of your family. Even many Peverells, an ancestral branch of your blood, reside here.”

“Do you know where?” Harry asked, but the elf shook his head and suddenly grabbed Harry’s arm and popped him back into the warmth of his family home.

“"I apologize, Master, but a group of wizards were approaching, and one of them smelled of Dementors. It's best you not be dealing with them."

"What's a Dementor?" asked Harry.

"Evil, Master Harry, they are evil."

Harry looked out at the setting sun. "Well, that's cheery. I guess we can go back another day?" he asked, but the elf had already gone about his business, and Harry smiled at the thought that the elf was already so comfortable with him that he would disappear before actually being dismissed. Something the elves had not done before then.

Several hours later, Harry found himself writing to Andromeda, his weekly letter, inviting her and the rest of the Tonks family over for the holidays. He'd never had an actual holiday with family before and was excited at the possibility. He was also drafting a short letter to his aunt to wish her a happy holiday, not that he cared for her much, but she had helped him in the end.

 Harry sat at a desk in the library, reading late into the night. The blizzard had come into full effect now; the wind howled outside, and the snow fell fast and thick, leaving a blanket of white a foot tall and growing.

“Master?” said the croaky voice of his most ancient elf, a tiny thing called Muad.

“Yes, Muad?” Harry asked the old elf.

“I was wondering if you would like me to continue, Master.”

“Continue what?” asked Harry.

“Continue here, Master Harry, if I could speak plainly, Master. I am old, even for an elf. I am nearing my fourth century. My mistresses are all gone, and my bones are tired.”

“So, you want to retire?” asked Harry, unsure of what the elf wanted.

“In a sense, Master.” At this, the other three elves popped into the room, looking sad.

“Master,” said Toppy, “Maude wishes to join her mistress Dorea in the long sleep, as we call it, our final rest.”

“"You—you need permission to die?"

"No. But it is customary to ask in advance, Master. We elves can sense when our time comes, you see. Asking permission is the only other way a house-elf can break from our duties without getting...penalties."

"What do I need to do?" asked Harry, looking at Muad.

"All you must do, Master, is order me to prepare for my final rest. It will give me access to the family magic to carry out your orders. Once all my tasks are done, I go to my rest."

"Then, Maude, I order you to prepare for your final rest. You need not continue here any longer."

And with a deep bow and a choked "You is a good master" from a voice suddenly light and squeaky like every other house-elf he'd heard speak, Muad disappeared.

"Toppy? I thought you were the oldest elf here?”

“Toppy is the oldest potter elf. Maud is being brought from the house of Black. And she is two centuries my senior.”

“What will Maude do to prepare?” asked Harry.

“It is deeply personal for each elf that prepares. But most likely, sir? She will do things she has wanted: eat what she has wanted, see what she has wanted to, and live a life of freedom not known by elves. But—” and at this he lifted an empty bottle of concentrated oleander essence. “She will likely return to the arms of her mistress, Dorea.”

“Why now, though? It's almost Christmas. I was looking forward to having everyone together…”

“Do not be sad, Master. She will not sleep for a while yet, and she has waited for this time for close to 400 years. A life so long and well-lived is meant to be celebrated, not mourned.

“From everything I know of her, Maude has been a good house elf,” said Harry firmly, bringing strong smiles to the three short beings around him.

“She has been one of the very best, Master Harry,” agreed Toppy.

Not long after, Harry found his way to his bed, where he fell into a fitful sleep. For the next four days, while the blizzard raged, he repeated the process: rising in the morning, checking his potion, eating, reading in the library, checking his potion, and exploring the rooms in his big, empty house. On the third day of the storm, he discovered a large room hidden between two rooms, with a grandfather clock as a doorknob. It was filled with magical and Muggle magazines filled with pictures that made the twelve-year-old blush and leave the forgotten horde alone.

After a four-day blizzard, the entire country seemed to shut down. Harry tried going to the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley, but the Floo system must have still been down because after stepping into the green fire and calling out the name of his home, he didn't go anywhere. This left him with little to do but continue his dull routine, save for his potion, which was now in a state where he would leave it to stew for three whole weeks. If he had done the calculations correctly (and he had Hermione double-check them, so he was sure he had), then the potion would be ready to bottle the morning before he went back to Hogwarts.

So with the country snowed in for the next few days, but the blizzard finally done, Harry let Hedwig out carrying four letters. One for the Tonkses, one for the Weasleys, a fat one for Hermione, and one for Bloodrock, his account manager. This one was very short.

“Account Manager Bloodrock,
I'm not sure what goblins do during this time of year, but I'm sure you know it is nearing our holiday season. And I just wanted to thank you for your service to my family and to wish you happy holidays if you have them.
Lord Potter”

Harry didn't have a lot of people to write to, so he felt obliged to include his account manager as they had been corresponding regularly since Harry's emancipation.

After that, Harry went to the kitchen. He had absolutely nothing to do, so he figured teaching himself to bake bread was a good way to pass the time.

A/N: This will be the first chapter I've typed out on Google Docs. I'm moving formats so I can work with a beta (that as of me typing this, I still haven't found).

Anyway, I've noticed that my writing is far more description than speech. To quote a dwarf from a video game, "that probably says something rather unfortunate about me personally.”

Chapter Text

Three loud gongs rang out through the empty manor. And a young 12-year-old boy ran to get to the front door. ​​He knew that if he didn't hurry, then one of his house elves would open the door, whether he ordered them not to or not, which he hadn't; he merely asked them to let him open his own door for visitors. He got to the large, rich oak front doors just in time to give Toppy, who had been reaching for the handle, a playful glare.

“I've got it, Toppy. I told you I want to welcome them!”

“And I’ve told you it would not be appropriate for young master to be opening doors for himself.” Harry simply stuck his tongue out at the elf.

Two more gong sounds rang out, and Harry opened the doors wide with a flick of his wand, revealing the Granger family. Daniel and Emma Granger and his best friend, Hermione Granger, were all dressed up for the cold weather. The adult Grangers wore the best Muggle cold-weather gear, and Hermione wore an example of one of Madam Malkin's best winter cloaks, most likely chock-full of anti-weather and heating charms. The three Grangers were beaming at him.

"Hello, Harry, long time no see!" said Emma Granger, stepping into the house and wrapping him in her version of a Hermione hug.

"Yes, it's great to see you again, Harry, thanks for inviting us to stay for the holidays," said Daniel Granger, shaking Harry's hand.

It seemed Hermione couldn't restrain herself a single second longer and hugged Harry with a rib-cracking grip.

“I can't wait to spend Christmas here; the decorations look fantastic! Did you help with them, or is this what the elves always do?"

Harry surprised Hermione by hugging her back, which he hadn't done many times before.

"It's traditional stuff mostly, but I did have them change a few things around. And I brought in a lot more evergreens. There are a lot of fairies living on the property, and I invited all of them to come in and make themselves at home for the season. So if you see a bush glowing and singing, that's why."

"Fairies?" asked the Granger parents. "Like real, actual fairies?"

"Oh yes, they're amazing, charming creatures. They just moved in a few days ago; a few of their elders turned up after that blizzard. Wizards invite them inside during the holidays; it's kind of a mutual benefit. They get to keep warm, and wizards get pretty lights to look at. Most wizarding families leave out gifts of oats, nuts, and honey, which the fairies eat. There's a book out in the library you can read to learn more," Harry explained as he guided them to the main sitting room.

“Oh, there are a few now.” Harry pointed to a five-foot-tall evergreen that a few sprites had just flown from, decorating the air around them as the fairies circled the Grangers in welcome. The fairies danced around them, giving off sharp reds, soft blues, warm yellows and oranges, even a few shades of green. One fairy was purple, a very rare color among them, Harry had noticed.

“Oooooh, they’re so gorgeous! I never would have thought fairies were real.” Emma was practically swooning. “Are they like Tinkerbell? Like tiny people?”

“No, Mother,” said Hermione. “They are distant cousins to bowtruckles, which look like sticks. So maybe they look like leaves? I’ve never seen one up close, and Fantastic Beasts doesn’t have their section illustrated.” She went on to explain further.

“It depends, actually. They do indeed look a bit like people, but the men wear armor-like clothes made from insect parts, and the women dress in leaves or tiny, woven grass dresses. It's all very graceful. They do still look like plant people, though; they don't have the bark-like skin that Bowtruckles have," said Harry.

"But if they are such common decorations, why have you never seen them up close?" asked Emma, still staring around the room as the fairies circled them, giggling and obviously having fun.

"At Hogwarts, they keep away from students."

"From magicals in general, really. They'll get close to the person who invites them into their house or whatever dwelling they're seeking entrance to, but they'll keep a safe distance from anyone else," said Harry.

"Then why are they so close now?" asked Daniel in turn.

“Probably because you’re muggles. You’re not capable of using magic to capture them. So you’re not threatening.” Harry explained but shrugged his shoulders to show his uncertainty.

As they continued their short journey through the halls of Harry’s manor, they talked of the Grangers’ Christmas traditions. And if Harry needed to go out and get his Christmas shopping done. He didn’t. He'd had Ted and Andromeda accompany him at different times to assist him in buying things, having no idea what gifts to give adults he was only just coming to know at any level. But he settled with:

A case of Andromeda’s favorite wine. (Bought by Ted but paid for by Harry.)

A brand-new deluxe eagle feather quill and stationary set for Ted.

A bottle of magical perfume (picked out by Andromeda) for Emma.

A crystal tumbler and whiskey stones that had been enchanted to be forever cold for Daniel.

And for Hermione, a luxury glass quill pen with a variety of ink colors in different specially enchanted bottles that when you tap the quill to a certain bottle, the quill writes in that color ink. As well as a full pint of ink refills for each color. And three books on runes, basic arithmancy, and goblin culture. (He bought himself one as well.)

Not that he told any of the Grangers what he had gotten them; that would, after all, ruin the surprise. As the group of new arrivals entered the large sitting room, they were greeted loudly by Harry's other house guests, the Tonks family. Harry was ecstatic to have such a large group over for the holidays. It brought a whole new energy into the manor. Everything from the house-elves to the very wards of the house seemed excited to have so many happy people in the manor again after so long.

Andromeda had been planning for months to revitalize the traditional Potter New Year Ball. She told the group that preparations were nearly complete and that, of course, everyone, even Muggle parents, were invited to join the festivities. Invitations had gone out to all the houses and a select list of Harry's classmates and, of course, notable citizens of magical Britain and even beyond. The Potters had a large winery in France after all, and she had been very diligent in getting it back up into operations. Given all he had to look forward to, Harry allowed himself to forget the troubles from Hogwarts. There wasn't anything he could do at the moment about any of it, so there was not a lot of point in worrying about it.

Harry and Hermione were demonstrating the rowdy and rousing game of Exploding Snap to the Granger parents while Tonks, currently bedecked in green and red extraordinarily gaudy hair and matching irises, gave funny commentary about either child's strategies.

"Inviting you lot to stay for the holidays was one of the best ideas I've ever had," said Harry proudly.

"What about the Weasleys, Harry? Didn't you invite them?" asked Hermione timidly.

"Err, yeah, I did, but Mrs. Weasley wants everyone at the Burrow for some reason. I told her I have more than enough rooms for everyone. Maybe they'll come for New Year's. Toppy and Tuppy are so excited they've been clearing out the kitchen to make extra space for all the cooking they'll be doing," said Harry with a sad smile at first, but he got progressively chirpier as he explained.

“Aunt Andy? What is the RSVP list up to now?” asked Harry after a regal-looking eagle owl soared through the enchanted window.

“Just over 130. My sister and her husband, Lord Malfoy, just sent theirs in.” The older witch said, gesturing to the owl with the letter she held in her hand. “I must say I am nervous. It has been nearly 22 years since I last saw my ‘dear’ sister, not since I was cast from the Black family for marrying Teddy.”

“Awesome!” grinned Harry.

“Oooh, a formal ball! Why didn’t you tell me, Harry? I am invited, aren’t I?” asked Hermione, very excited.

“Of course you’re invited! I was waiting for dinner to invite you as a Christmas surprise,” said Harry plaintively, causing all four females in the room to facepalm at his obtuseness.

“Merlin, forgive him, he’s only a boy!” called out Dora, leaping in front of Hermione, landing on her knees, and holding her hands together as if in prayer, effectively splitting the tension and the anger of the Granger woman in half.

“Harryyyyyy! Don't you know anything? We need more time to prepare for a ball than two weeks,” said Hermione with the air of someone explaining to a precocious two-year-old that two plus two equals four.

“I figured you know, with magic,” Harry said, kicking the floor in chagrin.

“He's right,” said Andy. “We will go to Twilfit and Tatting’s tomorrow morning.”

“But I’m a Muggle-born, and my mother is a Muggle. There's no way the proprietors will let us even enter the door.”

“Prior to two weeks ago, that may have been the case, but you now stand in the room with the majority shareholder of that business. And it is Potter family policy that there is no segregation or prejudicial practices in any business we hold a stake in,” explained Andromeda, who took in the bewildered looks staring back at her. “What? I was tasked to rebuild the Potter wealth after nearly half a century of stagnation and decay. I have been busy.”

“Thank you, Andromeda. Your letters haven’t been nearly detailed enough, but thank you so much for what you’ve done,” said Harry, causing his steward to beam at him.

“However, I fear I must undo some of your work. I am gifting all the ladies here, including yourself, a full outfit, dress shoes, and jewelry to prepare for this ball.” Every single girl and woman around him swooned. He found it odd that Hermione did as well, as she normally didn’t fall prey to such silliness. Harry assumed that every girl was entitled to be girly at some point, even his bookish best friend.

“So, Harry?” asked Hermione. “Have you heard from the Weasleys?”

“Yeah, Ron wrote back this morning and said that the whole family is staying at the Burrow for Christmas, but that they would attend the New Year’s ball if they could get dress robes for everyone, which shouldn’t be a problem. As such, I sent the entire family on a trip to Madam Malkin’s for dress robes as long as the total budget doesn’t go over 1,500 galleons, which Andy said would be more than enough for decent dress robes for seven or even eight people.”

“Harry, you’re incredibly generous, but aren’t you afraid you’ll run out of money for your schooling?” asked Emma, her voice filled with concern.

“Not really.” Harry shrugged. “I could spend a thousand galleons a day for fifty years and still not run out of money.”

Dinner that night was filled with stories and laughter, the two kids catching everyone up on their year so far at Hogwarts. The parts that hadn’t made it into the papers. Like how Lockhart seemed to be a total fraud. Or their very interesting American History of Magic teacher, who had an eclectic collection of euphemisms and sayings and the most absurd accent they had ever heard. Andromeda told how her work at restoring the Potter vineyards in Italy and France was going. Hours of fun conversation spread through group dinners across the next week; even the three Potter elves came and told tales of Christmases past. The events often left more than one watery eye in the room.

The dinner to celebrate Christmas Eve came and went, and Harry bid everyone goodnight and began the long and lonely march up to the master suite. Only it wasn’t so lonely tonight. He was accompanied by a group of fairies who laughed and trilled around him as he walked, causing him to laugh at their exuberance.

When Harry woke up on the second Christmas morning he had ever looked forward to in his life, he woke up to nothing. There were no presents at the end of his mattress nor on the foot of his bed. Upon leaving his bedroom, he finally found them sitting around a small, personal Christmas tree in the Lord’s sitting room. Sitting down in front of the sizable pile of presents, Harry started unwrapping them slowly, savoring every crisply folded line of wrapping paper.

Harry had received 12 gifts and 16 cards.

The cards were from: Neville, Ron, the twins, “the Weasleys,” “the Greengrass family,” Daphne Greengrass, “the Longbottoms,” “the Grangers,” “the Tonkses,” “Tonks (Dora)” (which enclosed an IOU: “Sorry, little bro, couldn’t think of a good gift.”), “the Malfoy family” (Narcissa Malfoy wrote a note that claimed she would be holding Lord Malfoy’s usual gift of “Ole Ogden’s Fire Whiskey” until he was of a better age to receive it), Hermione (who wrote that she was ecstatic about his reaction to her gift and couldn't wait till he saw what is was ), Gringotts Bank, Bloodrock (his account manager), and Hagrid.

The final card was less of a card and more of a letter written on a card.

It was written in a very untidy hand.

“Dear Lord Potter,

How strange it is to address a letter like that to you, even after all these years. All this time.
I'm going to try my best here. It's been years since I've written anything, let alone held a quill.

First, I need to thank you. It was your testimony that finally led to my release from Azkaban, which is a wizarding prison, in case you don't know. They tell me you were brought up by your mother's sister. I met her years ago, and I heard she didn't tell you anything about all this. It must have been a shock.

I'm sorry, I am so sorry I wasn't there to protect you from them. I— (here there is a large and illegible area where the author of this letter scratched something out.)

I'm sorry, I'm going to have to continue writing on this card. I just messed up with my quill, and the Healers won't give me another, as I'm still on watch.

I was in Azkaban for over a decade. It does horrible things to a person, so I'm currently in a secure wing in St. Mungo's, receiving inpatient treatment. I'll be here for a while yet. Maybe we'll get to meet before you head back to school in the fall.
(Continued onto the second page of the card.)

I'm sorry, my brain is all jumbled. That's part of the reason I was sent here after my release.

My name is Sirius Black. If you remember your parents' will, I am your godfather. I had to bribe the nurses here with good behavior to be able to write this card to you. They still don't trust me with sharp things.

I wanted to write and finally, after 11 years, wish you a happy Christmas. I hope you enjoy my gift. It's twelve years of birthdays and Christmas gifts all at once.

With my unending love,
Sirius A. Black”

The letter was jumbled and scrambled, with many words crossed out. He obviously hadn't been allowed a wand yet and couldn't erase the mistakes. After reading the card again a few more times to make sure he understood it, Harry moved on to his presents.

Harry got the full Encyclopedia Britannica from the Grangers, with a note (no office, magical or not, is complete without this set) and a full set of top-of-the-line at-home dental care products.

From Ron, he got a box of Honeydukes sweets, a sweet shop in the village near Hogwarts that Harry hadn't visited yet.

From Andromeda and Ted Tonks, he received a new pair of dragon hide boots and gloves.

From Daphne, he received a bottle of French cologne that smelled like cedarwood. (It was very pleasant.)

From the twins, he received an unlabeled potion with a note ("Drink me") and one free prank on a target of his choosing.

From Hermione, he received a ticket to the London Coliseum to see "The Nutcracker" play, as well as a pillow that was enchanted to always be very warm for Smara, and an enchanted tie clip, pin, and cufflinks enchanted to keep wrinkles, stains, and mud/dust out of his clothes throughout the day, with a note: "A lord must look his best at all times, and you always rumple your clothes throughout the day at school."

And finally, the long, square package tagged from Padfoot, aka Sirius Black. A note lay on it: "I had to get my account manager to send you this with this note. You can consider it an apology for missing your life. I hope to see you soon.

Sirius Black.”

After unwrapping the long, square package, it was revealed to be a long, highly polished mahogany box decorated with gold inlay and plaques. Even the locks and latches were gold. Written across the center of the lid was "Firebolt." Harry fell over. This wasn't just any broom. It was a racing broom—not just any racing broom, but the best model broom in the world, and it hadn't even been released to the public yet! Harry opened it up but couldn't see the broom. Four things were sitting on top of the satin cushion covering the broom:

A letter of authenticity (model number 007)
A booklet detailing and summarizing the broom, signed by the designer of the Firebolt and Hasan Mostafa, the international chairman of the Quidditch League
Two seats in the Minister's Box at the next Quidditch World Championship game, coming up the summer after next

Lifetime warranty and free professional maintenance once a year for life.

And a letter from the unnamed “Black account manager.”
“Lord Black hired me to see this broom delivered to you, Lord Potter. Once the makers realized who you were, they included the box as well as a few additional gifts.
Happy Christmas.”

That fit pretty well with what he had come to expect from goblins—short and to the point.

Harry stood frozen, shocked. He had no idea how to react. He had just received what was shaping up to be the best broom in the world from his godfather, whom he had never met, and a collection of gifts any Quidditch fan would kill for. But at a glance to the box containing his tie clip and the two tickets to the ballet, he knew immediately what gift meant more to him, and it wasn't the broom, nice as it was. So, taking a look at all his gifts, he got dressed in his best suit and matching robes, fussing around so that his new tie clip, breast pin, and cufflinks were on straight. Harry was amazed as they changed slightly to match the bottle-green robes he was wearing better. After dressing, he grabbed the tickets and the giant box containing his new Firebolt and climbed down the long stairwell to the formal sitting room where most of his guests had already congregated.

"Sorry!" he called out. "I couldn't sort out what to wear, and unwrapping my gifts took a lot longer this year."

"It's quite alright, Lord Potter, there is no rush on Christmas morning. Now, we have been exchanging tales of our gifts, but I don't think any of us has anything like what is in that box," Andromeda said in a playfully formal voice while indicating the Firebolt box.

“Oh, right!” Harry said, strolling forward and placing the box on the coffee table. “First of all, um, where’s Hermione? I need to thank her.”

“Oh, don’t worry, dear, she’ll be down later. Christmas Day is one of the few days a year that girl allows herself to sleep in. Woke up at three in the afternoon last year.”

“Oh, well then. Toppy? Could you please put these back in my room? In the drawer of my writing desk, please.”

The elf popped in, listened to Harry’s instructions, and then popped away, wearing his brand-new Potter uniform, which looked very much like Muggle coveralls with the Potter family crest on the back. Apparently, Andy had Toppy sew them together so that it couldn’t be construed as gifting the elves clothes.

“And this box is a gift from my godfather, Sirius Black.”

At this, Andromeda sucked in her breath. “He’s out?! That rotten mongrel is out of Azkaban, and he hasn’t written to me or—” Andromeda yelled before getting cut off by Harry.

“Aunt Andy!" He waited until he was sure that she was listening to him. Judging by her face, he had better explain quickly why he had shouted. He pulled the letter/card from Sirius out of his pocket and handed it to her. "He said that they're not letting him write to anyone, that he had to bribe his way into sending me a Christmas card. Apparently, the long stay at Azkaban left his mind barely functioning and his body so weak it would probably go into shock if they just left him on his own, and he'd probably be dead within the day."

Andromeda read the rambling card silently for a minute before she tucked it into her robe, nodding. "Right, I'll focus on this newest problem later. Right now, why don't you show us what my dear cousin got you?" she said, gesturing to the box.

And Harry did. He showed the finely polished box and, after opening it, he showed the certificate of authenticity, the signed booklet, and the two tickets. "I don't know who I'd bring along, though. Hermione hates Quidditch. Wouldn't hurt to ask her, though. I guess it will be a great way for her to see other magical cultures." All the adults nodded at that. And then Harry moved on to the actual Firebolt itself, showing off its 007 model number.

“I don't know if they expect me to ride this or hang it up. It seems too rare to treat like an everyday broom.”

And then Ted spoke up. “Son, I think the maker of that broom would be far more insulted for that broom to be put on a shelf than flown by someone who would care for it like it's supposed to be. Also, take that broom out of the box. I bet they put something in here that will answer your question far better than any assurance we can give.” And so Harry did, lifting the broom out of the velvet cushion. Ted lifted the cushion.

“Aha! See.” When he lifted the form-fitted cushion, there was revealed a 100-piece professional broom servicing kit, with five compasses that can be linked to certain locations so that they always point to it.

“Wow!” said Harry. “That's amazing! I can't wait to try this stuff out.”

“So, Harry!” called Tonks, shooing away the broom. “What were those things you sent away?”

“Oh! Umm, they were tickets to go see The Nutcracker in London," Harry said, unsure of where Tonks was going with this.

"Sooo, a girl got you tickets to the theater, huh? And who are you going to take?" teased Tonks, much to the amusement of all the adults around.

"Well, as they were a gift from Hermione, I thought I'd offer to take her. Why?"

"And what are her intentions with my little brother?" Tonks asked this just as Hermione entered the room, blushing scarlet.

"How did you know I was there?" demanded Hermione.

And Tonks' ears grew to an extraordinary size. "I'm a metamorph! I can hear an ant's fart if I wanted to, which I have several times. It's like a teeny tiny pop, it's so funny!" Tonks said, laughing at the recollection.

"Hilarious," Hermione said in a deadpan voice. "If you must know, my 'intentions' are to go to the theater and have a wonderful time with my best friend." Hermione said, using her hands to make air quotes when she was mocking Tonks.

"Ha! I like this one, Harry. You can keep her," smiled Tonks.

"I'm not keeping anybody, you pixie-haired pillock," said Harry. "Hermione, thanks for the tickets. They, the tie clip, and stuff, were my favorite gift by far."

"Oh, thank you, Harry. I'm glad you liked them. I liked my gifts as well. They were very thoughtful." She then spent a good while explaining the intricacies of the enchanted quill he had gotten her and how she was looking forward to learning more about goblin culture, a subject they both felt should be in the Hogwarts curriculum.

Throughout the day, the group stayed together, enjoying their time together, talking about playing with or using their new gifts. Even the Weasleys sent a "yowler" (like a howler, but for loud, friendly messages that explode in a burst of confetti instead of fire) thanking him for his gifts and the opportunity to buy some decent robes from Madam Malkin's, something Ginny was especially looking forward to. Harry had even tricked Tonks into drinking the potion that the twins had sent him. It turned her into a rather nice looking rainbow colored newt for an hour before she turned back to her self and chased Harry around the whole manor for an hour and a half.

It was at dinner that Harry found himself sitting in his rightful place at the head of the table, Smara wrapped around his shoulders having returned home via Snape 3 days ago, watching as everyone had separate conversations. The older Tonks and the Granger parents were talking about various aspects of their businesses, and Hermione and Tonks were debating the use of some haircare potion or other. Smara spent the evening catching bits of food out of the air causing their guests to laugh a few times as she had to grow occasionally to catch a far off throw forcing Harry to be pinned by the increased weight of his serpent companion.

Harry found himself separate from all conversations at one moment during dinner, but he still felt like he was a part of all of them. Harry stood suddenly, drawing everyone's attention, and he cleared his throat to begin speaking.

“I just wanted to thank you all for coming here, for agreeing to spend your holiday with me in this house instead of following your usual traditions. This has been not only my first holiday in this manor, in my new home, it has been my first holiday where I was actually able to celebrate with family. As you know, my early childhood was not happy, and I was lucky to get a cheese sandwich while I watched my aunt and uncle gorge themselves on my cooking. But now I get to enjoy the sight of my family feasting and enjoying themselves with me, not in spite of me. I thank each and every one of you; this has been the best Christmas of my life. And here’s to many, many more.” Harry raised his glass as they all did in return, and everyone in the manor cheered for the wonderful night, the wonderful meal, and the wonderful company.

And the night wore on.

Chapter Text

Harry Potter stood outside the main entrance beside Andromeda Tonks, greeting his incoming guests. He was bored. The seemingly never-ending train of incoming partygoers was going through the same repetitive, overly formal, antiquated Victorian greetings. He was trying to memorize the names and faces of people he had never met nor would most likely see again for a long time, if ever. Count Falmouth, Lord Hebride, Earl Grey—no! that was a tea. Earl Stinchcomb. Lord Nott, Madame Bones. Names and faces coming and going in an endless cycle, exchanging the same repeated words and phrases, that, in the past hour had ceased to have any meaning to him. Until—

“WHAM!”
A Bludger came out of nowhere and hit him in — he wasn’t playing Quidditch.

“Owww!” Harry said, rubbing the back of his head after his aunt’s smack ripped him back into reality. “Aunt Andy, what was that for?” Harry’s complaining made the guests who had been greeting him titter and laugh.

“The Minister was addressing you, Harry. I know this is boring, but pay attention. It’s rude,” his aunt chastised.

“Quite,” said the Minister. Dressed once again in his ridiculous green pinstripe suit and matching bowler hat, he said, “Don’t worry, Lord Potter. We’ve all been there. These old traditions are not friendly to an active young man such as yourself, far too stuffy even for my tastes.” Cornelius Fudge said before striding into the ballroom with his—wife? On his arm. Harry assumed she was the man’s wife, but she was at least 20 years his junior.

Mister and Missus Granger approached with Hermione. Mister Granger spoke first, bowing slightly. “Greetings, Lord Potter. We of the, uhh, new House of Granger?” He paused but continued at Andromeda’s nod. “Thank you for inviting us into your hall. We look forward to this evening’s festivities.”

“Welcome, Mister Granger. It’s a pleasure to welcome you to my home, my hall, and these celebrations. Come in, we have food and wine aplenty,” said Harry in a ridiculously official tone of voice, that got him another smack to the back of the head. “Worth it,” he whispered to Hermione as she passed, causing her to snort in a most unladylike fashion.

The Malfoys came next, and Harry was treated to Andromeda giving a stilted greeting to her sister and promising a more personal chat inside. While Lucius and Draco Malfoy addressed Harry and repeated the traditional greeting and thanks. It was dry, and Draco was most unwilling to greet or give anyone thanks until he earned a sharp smack to the back of his head by his mother. And finally, “I thank you, my lord, for your generous invitation tonight,” Draco spat the words out like they tasted foul in his mouth.

Finally, after another hour of greetings, thanks, and introductions of a mix of magical and Muggle parents to classmates or schoolmates of his or whatever society members or highly placed members of the ministry Andromeda had invited, he sat at the high table with his family and honored guests: Minerva McGonagall, the Malfoy family, the Greengrass family, the Minister and his attaché, and the Grangers. It was time to speak to his guests for the evening to start things off. Harry sat for a time, watching his guests as they toyed with the triple-tiered, glass trays covered in golden platters engraved with the Potter coat of arms that sat in the center of the large tables. After about 15 more minutes during which his guests had time to introduce themselves to their table mates, Harry decided it was time to begin. So, after standing and ringing his glass to gather everyone's attention, he began.

“Greeting my guests, friends, and family. I am beyond honored to have you all here in Blackstone Hall for the first time, not only in my life but as I understand it, for the first time in nearly 30 years. It was a time-honored tradition in the Potter family to welcome the members of high society of the magical world into our home for a night of merriment and to celebrate both the closing year and the coming year. I have chosen to revive and slightly alter this tradition. As many magicals have noticed, we have many guests here from the Muggle world. They are all the parents of Muggle-born schoolmates, and I welcome them just as warmly as I welcome the more traditional members of our society.
Now, with that introduction out of the way—" and here Harry clapped his hands together. "Tuck in!" and he spread his arms wide to the enchanted crowd as all at once every platter on every table became heavily laden with every type of food from roast beef, steak, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, platters of potatoes (fried, mashed, stuffed and stewed), glazed carrots, bowls of salad, boats of gravy, and charcuterie boards decorated with the finest meats and cheeses. Enchanted, ever-filling casks of Potter family wine, plates of bread and rolls, and saucers of softened, spreadable butter. Everything looked and smelled delicious, and as accustomed to it as the magical guests were, the Muggle guests were awestruck by the sight, and all spent a while turning the dumbwaiters and picking out everything to taste and try. He got the attention of the headmistress and called out, “You were right, that is very fun!” causing the table to laugh at his exuberance.

The Potter family house-elves were popping hither and thither to fill special requests: a whiskey here, some rum there, some special flatbread that the Patils had requested. Harry spent his time talking to Hermione and Daphne, who was seated next to him, eating, and most of all, watching his guests have fun talking to each other. Andromeda had done well with the seating arrangements. He watched as one Muggle woman—Dean Thomas' mother, he suspected—looked around in search of where the music that filled the hall with a quiet and soft musical cadence was coming from, only for Madam Bones to get her attention and point at the grating at the bottom of the walls and gesticulate as she explained. Watching the muggle woman's mouth drop open at the explanation was very funny. After an hour or so, dinner and dessert had been devoured, and it was time for him to do something he really didn't want to do, as he knew it would most likely hurt Hermione's feelings. He stood, rung his crystal glass again to gain the attention of the room.

"With everyone fed and watered, I believe it's time to open the dance. For anyone who is in need of more refreshment, fresh air, or a place to light their pipe, there is the "Pot and Bottle" lounge upstairs. Now, since they are the family with the closest formal alliance that has a daughter, it would be my honor and pleasure to invite Daphne Greengrass to open the ball with me." And Harry held his hand out to help her stand. Daphne took his hand and stood but did not walk. Instead, she turned to her father for a second and then guided his hand over to Hermione before blowing a kiss to him and sitting down. Hermione, beaming at Daphne, stood in her beautiful periwinkle dress and took Harry's hand at Mister Greengrass' laughing nod.

Harry pulled a nervous Hermione to the center of the dance floor, held her left hand high in his and bowed low as Andromeda had taught him, and Hermione returned with a nervous curtsy. What followed was a nervous and stilted yet passable opening dance in a traditional ballroom style. Harry and Hermione had received a rather harsh crash course on ballroom dancing by Andromeda; she had, with Hermione’s parents’ permission of course, corrected their movements the way her parents had corrected her own when she was learning, with a switch. Which Harry and Hermione turned out to be thankful for; it made them learn the proper steps all the faster. So, Harry held Hermione as they danced across the ballroom floor. The children beet red with embarrassment danced for a whole two minutes before the dance opened. Seamlessly, the magical side of Harry's guests entered the dance floor, and Harry found himself trading partners every thirty seconds or so—from Andy to her sister Narcissa, to Lavender Brown, Susan Bones, and even Daphne Greengrass and Mrs. Granger. Although she was very clunky in her dance, never having done a ballroom dance before, the lively cello-led music could have anybody flowing into a dance. Harry wasn't in the right circuit, but he saw Professor Weasley weaving through the dance floor like a pro.

At the end of the song, he found himself joined with Hermione again as the whole group bowed to the left and right as one, getting a rousing round of applause by the people who remained at the tables.

Several women and girls approached him to punch his dance card. But Harry decided a break was warranted; he was kind of dizzy from all the spinning. So he walked around and found Ron Weasley, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom, Harry's dorm mates at school, sitting together looking awkward.

"Hello, gents, enjoying your time?" asked Harry, approaching them.

"Oh, aye, fine shindig, Harry. Great food and the women are pretty enough and all, but I don't fancy having a go on the dance floor," said Seamus Finnegan awkwardly.

“Why's that Seamus?”

“Well I just don't fancy looking like a poof like you, with those dance moves of yours, You look like a sparkly princeling spinning around out there” Seamus said with a joking smirk.

“Ahhhh, I see, so in other words you don't know how to dance and don't want to look stupid in front of the girls?” This caused Dean Thomas to snicker on his friend’s behalf.

“I think you hit his nail on the head Harry” called Dean.

“Ey! Ain't no one hit my nail yet.”

“And no one will if you’re sat there all night. Go dance with someone! Lavender is looking over here every 2 seconds! You'll only look like an idiot in front of everyone you know, and we already know you're about as smart as a dull troll.” Called back Harry.

Harry then turned his attention to Ron who had surprisingly been silent so far. “Hey Ron, you clean up good.”

“Yeah.”

“Having a good night?”

“Yeah.”

Enjoy dinner?

“Yeah.”

Harry looked at the others and cocked an eyebrow, causing the others to shrug.

“Right. Well. Ron, why don't you go dance with someone?”

“Can't.”

“What's that?” Harry asked.

“I can't dance! Unlike you, we don't have the money for lessons!”

“It wasn't about money. My aunt taught me and Hermione. And besides, I understand not ballroom dancing, but look.” And he pointed to the dance floor. “That's a slow dance. It's just spinning in a circle. Go try. If you do a bad enough job, I'll tell Fred and George to sneak you some wine.” And he patted Ron on the back as his friend kind of mindlessly drifted over to the group of girls. Harry got Hermione's attention and mimicked dancing, pointing between the two. Hermione, cottoning on, captured the nervous redhead's hand and dragged him to the floor. Watching her manhandle Ron into position had the others laughing until a group of girls stormed up and ripped the rest from their seats. Neville looked to Harry for aid. Harry just laughed and shook his head, walking away.

'Speaking of Fred and George?' Harry thought to himself and looked around, seeing two familiar twin heads of red hair dancing on the floor with what appeared to be Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell, members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Harry walked the floor for about ten minutes, talking to whichever guest seemed open to having him intrude on their conversations for a bit. He was introduced to the Lords Crabbe and Goyle Sr a bit more personally by Lucius Malfoy. The two human boulders were mirror images of their sons, only bigger and meaner-looking. He tried to set up a meeting for them to discuss another business deal, but Harry begged off and asked him to schedule everything with Andromeda.

After mingling for a bit longer, Harry decided to dance a bit more, this time cutting in on Draco Malfoy, who was trying to dance with Daphne Greengrass. He knew he would most likely get something said to him at the very least for being rude, but since it was Draco, Harry thought it'd be worth it, especially after the relieved smile he got from Daphne.

“Thank you, Harry. That brute kept stepping on my feet!” said Daphne, stepping into a slow dance that had struck up.

“No problem, although I do feel for him. It's hard not to step on people's feet. I did it a few times to Madam Bones earlier at the opening,” said Harry with a chagrined smile.

“Well, you're still learning. At least I know for a fact Narcissa has had Draco in dance lessons since he was five. All heirs are. It seems he's as good a dance student as an academic one. Oh my!” Daphne called as Tracey Davis, Daphne's half-blood best friend, stepped into their dance and peeled Daphne away, laughing.

“Share, Daphne!” she called, cackling as she and Harry began to dance together.

“Hi, Harry! Sweet party you're throwing! Have a good Christmas?” said Tracey, still giggling at her own rudeness.

“Er, well, it was all Andromeda. You know she threw everything together. I don't know much about these fancy parties, and yea! I got a whole bunch of awesome presents and Hermione and I went to the theatre in London to watch a muggle play called The Nutcracker, I'll have to show you tomorrow. Your lot is taking a guest room right?”

“Yea we’ll be here in the morning, I think most of the Hogwarts kids are. At least the ones that like you that is.” Tracy said with a wide smile.

“You know, I think Daphne might be a bit cross with you for cutting in?” he said as the current song wound down and they separated.

“She'll get over it. I'm sure there's more time to dance anyway."

"Speaking of dancing," and he held up his dance card, "I have a number of partners to get to."

Thank all the gods there are for cushioning charms. Harry danced with almost thirty partners over the next hour and a half, taking breaks to dance with Hermione and Daphne so they wouldn't feel like he was ignoring either of them. Not to mention he liked dancing with those two more than any other partner. Just before 10:30, he found himself dancing with Ginny Weasley. He hadn't had much chance to get to know her at Hogwarts, and knowing she'd had a rather crummy first year so far, he took it upon himself to walk up to the shy, pale redhead and politely drag the blushing first-year onto the dance floor. He was gently guiding her through the motions of a very slow ballroom/waltz hybrid when he spoke.

“So, are you having fun yet? The dress looks very nice, by the way."

“Oh, thank you, Harry. It was very nice of you to do all that for us. I'm having a blast. Yeah, Neville asked me to dance, but we had to stop halfway through the song. He broke my toe. Dad had to Episkey it, but it's much better now!” she said quickly in response to what she rather correctly assumed was going to be Harry apologizing for dragging her out on an injured foot.

“Well, that's good then. And are you all better from—er,” Harry stopped awkwardly.

“Being possessed? No, I'm not all better. But I get better every day, and tonight has helped immensely.”

“Good, I'm glad. Maybe when we get back to Hogwarts, you can experience what Hogwarts is really like.”

“I'm not going back, not until whatever it is is dealt with. I'm doing at-home learning and will have to test into my second year during the summer. If it's been dealt with by then.. If it hasn't then I suppose we'll all have bigger things to worry about.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

After that long bout of dancing, Harry needed a break, so he made his way to the upstairs lounge to go to the outdoor balcony and take in the winter landscape as it was currently gleaming under a foot and a half of snow again. When he heard his name, he looked over, seeing Andromeda, Ted, the Malfoys, and the Minister, who had been the one to call him. All the men were smoking cigars that Andromeda had provided.

As Harry approached, the Minister stuck out his hand to shake Harry's. "Harry, my boy, what's this I hear about you claiming family rights on the contents of that locked chamber under Hogwarts?"

"Oh, yes, well, as you know, the Potters are an ancient family. We are direct descendants of the Peverells, so was Slytherin. As I'm the closest living relative, not to mention Smara, wherever she is at the moment, was Slytherin's familiar as well. I felt I had a significant enough connection to lay claim to the contents of that chamber. Most of everything needs a Parselmouth to activate it anyway," replied Harry coolly, causing Andromeda and Narcissa to smile.

“Well, that just won't do. My goodness, those artifacts could be dangerous and will need to be studied by the Department of Mysteries. They are much too dangerous for private ownership."

"With all due respect, Minister," supplied Harry. "There is no way you could know that for certain. And I am not willing to argue about it tonight. When the time comes, we can argue for it in front of the Wizengamot if you feel the need to take it that far, which I hope you do not."

The Minister seemed rather put out by Harry's obstructiveness. "Yes, well, I guess you might be correct. I guess we shall see once that confounded door has finally been opened. Minerva tells me they will be ready soon. Shame we'll have to delay the start of school back by... I believe two weeks. I have several Unspeakables working at Hogwarts who specialize in ritual magic. I believe you will have to be there as well.”

“Are you sure this isn't the doing of the girl, minister?" spoke the cool voice of Lucius Malfoy. "The girl is the daughter of Arthur Weasley; it could be that his private sentiments are showing themselves in his daughter. After all, what true pureblood would willingly draft that Muggle protection garbage?"

"Now, now, Lucius, I have it on several key authorities that little Ginevra is a victim here. I watched her treatment personally. I used to work in Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, after all. I know the signs and after-effects of possession better than most."

"Yes, Minister, I don't doubt you do. I was merely making a suggestion.”

“And a poor one, Lucius," said Harry, scowling. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get some air." Harry said as he walked away from the group as they started on the topic of Ministry taxes. As he walked across the long lounge, passing people whose names he'd already forgotten and people like Cyrus Greengrass and Augusta Longbottom, he chatted quietly as the smooth music filled the room with a soft but lively melody. Harry thought that it was jazz, but he didn't have enough experience with different types of music to be sure.

He greeted those that met his eyes with a silent wave or a nod of his head as he made his way to the outside balcony. The music still filled the air here as well as a crisp chill that soothed his hot lungs; dancing was a tiring thing, and the cool air felt like a balm to his whole body.

Harry stood there by himself for a while, looking over the countryside that surrounded his manor. The night sky was clear and lovely tonight, and he watched the snow drift in the light wind that seemed to pervade the area constantly.

‘Click’
The soft sound of the door opening and closing passed his ears and suddenly there were people on either side of him. Tall and stocky. The twins.
“Hey, Harry, good Christmas?” said Fred—at least Harry thought it was Fred.
“Hey, Fred,” Harry said back, taking a chance. It led to a moment of silence from the twin terrors.

“And just how do you do that? You know, I don’t think you’ve been wrong once at addressing us? Not even Mum can do that,” George complained, and Harry just shrugged.
“Well, be that as it may, we saw our magnanimous host sulking his way up here, and we thought we’d come and check on you,” said Fred.

“Yeah. So, what’s eating you, Harry?” continued George.

“Err, nothing really, guys. Thanks. I’m having a blast, just too many people, I guess. I’m used to this place being more or less empty, so it’s odd, I guess.”

“Yeah, I suppose if you’re used to the quiet.”

“A party like that could frazzle you a bit.”

“But don’t worry,”

“One more Quidditch season with us and we’ll have”

“You schmoozing through parties”

“Like a pro,” the twins finished together after speaking in turn for a minute.

“You two make my head hurt when you do that, you know?” complained Harry. This caused the twins to laugh.

“Oh cheer up Harry! You're starting to look like Ron. And he's an ugly specky git and we can't have our team's golden boy looking like that.”

“I have it on good authority, young Lord Potter, that at this moment there are at least two fine looking young ladies searching for you” said George.

“Speaking of the team. I have something to show you lot ingots sent for Christmas. It'll make you sick, it's so cool!” supplied Harry.

“Well, we can't wait to see that, can we George? It's almost 11:30. Harry, go give them one last dance.” Fred pushed him back in the direction of his party.

“Oh and avoid the custard creams! We're testing something!” They said in unison as Harry turned to leave.

Harry arrived back just in time to grab Daphne's arm as she was about to bite into a custard cream, and yanked the treat from her grasp and threw it aside. If looks could kill.

“Sorry, twins warned me off those.” he said in way of explanation.

“Oh darn!” Called out Hermione. “You couldn't have been 20 seconds faster? I'll kill them if I end up belching fireworks or whatever they enchanted those things to do.”

“Don’t worry, Hermione. We’ll see what they did, and then I’ll have my elves punish them accordingly.” Harry said, making both witches smile. “Now, I believe I owe my two friends a final dance? Daphne?”

“Oh, thank you, Harry,” and she took her offered hand, and the two danced together for the whole of the next song to play. Before Harry returned to Hermione and took her hand as well and returned to the dance floor one last time. The lights turned down lower, and the floor cleared to make way for the master of the house to close out the night. A slow but rich melody filled the air, and the two young ones performed the steps of a foxtrot across the dance floor both now more comfortable with the movements.

“I had a lovely time tonight, Harry. I find myself excited for next years ball as well,” said Hermione as they went through their dance.

“I had an amazing night as well; you are by far the best dance partner,” Harry smiled.

“Oh, please, Daphne is far better than me, Harry. You two flow together so well, and—” but Harry cut her off.

“You’re my best friend, Hermione. Daphne is great, yes. But I like dancing with you more.”

“A tiny bit more?” said Hermione.

““Even 10 percent is a mile of difference to the scale.” This caused Hermione to laugh, snort and blush.

“Smooth, Harry. Very smooth.”

“Thanks. Bill gave me a book, ‘12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches.” This caused Hermione to laugh even more throwing her head back.

“Did he, really?” she asked

“No, he gave it to Ron. He told me in his last letter that Bill told him he’d need it next year.” Harry said, chuckling. The two continued to dance in silence, and when the song finished, they bowed to the applauding crowd as the lights came back up.

“Five minutes till midnight,” said Hermione, sitting next to him at a small table. “How are we ending this grand ball, Lord Potter?” she continued with a teasing smirk. They were both standing on the upper balcony where they had been for ten minutes now, coming up for fresh air after dancing. Looking out at the expanse of Harry’s property. “Your property is absolutely gleaming in the snow, Harry, it really is beautiful.”

“Thank you, it means a lot that you like it here so much. We’re doing a fireworks display; we contracted Doctor Filibuster’s for a giant fireworks display. It should be great. It’ll start precisely one minute after midnight.” Said Harry, pointing to a small group of wizards milling around six large, brightly colored boxes on a medium-sized wooden platform a few hundred meters away from the manor.

Hermione let out a large sigh. “Come on, we should get back down before my dad sends a search party.” They arrived back at the ballroom with one minute on the clock to the new year.

50 seconds: Hermione sidled closer to Harry as they accepted some non-alcoholic champagne from Andromeda.

40 seconds: All of Harry's family gathered around him as the magical "clock" that Andromeda and ted set up in the center of the now empty dance floor displayed 11:37.

30 seconds: Tracy pushed Daphne over to stand next to harry, both girls beaming in the glow of the room. As the adults in the room started to sing "Auld Lang Syne,"

20 seconds: "She's being too shy right now, Harry, but Daphne and I had a great time tonight!"

10 seconds: All the couples in the room started to look into each other's eyes. It was almost awkwardly quiet, and Harry looked between Hermione, Daphne, and the "clock."

5 seconds: Harry had a sudden realization that one or both girls were expecting him to kiss them for Happy New Year's, and he started to panic and froze.

“"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" called the crowd, and Harry's dilemma solved itself as first Hermione on his right and then Daphne on his left pressed long and almost lingering kisses to both of his cheeks before saying "HAPPY NEW YEAR, HARRY!" in his ear in unison. Some of the adults around them clapped and cheered teasingly, but Harry saw Mister Granger and Cyrus Greengrass talking to one another, looking at the trio. Harry looked around to see a blushing Millicent Bulstrode standing very close next to Ron, who had an absolutely horrified look on his face. Then he found Neville with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott rather mirroring Hermione and Daphne's positions on harry post-cheek kiss. He was flaming with blush, and he wished the two girls a happy new year, his blush getting even deeper (if that was possible) when he decided to repay the girls in kind—first Hermione, then Daphne.

That was when the first multicolored explosion went off, drawing everyone outside and into an enchanted area of comfortably warm air. There they all stood and watched the magical fireworks burst in vivid purples, lurid oranges, and bright pinks. Fantastical shapes and moving images of roaring griffins and flying dragons fueled one another in sparking displays of faux fire. Knights in radiant silver armor fought over a princess or battled the dragons. More familiar fireworks were on display during all this—short-lived bursts of beautiful colors, all flashing through the sky for a solid 10 minutes, culminating with the words "Happy New Year 1993" flashing through the air.

The children all gathered around after this, the boys discussing how dancing wasn't so bad after all, and the girls—Hermione and Daphne in pride of place of the conglomerate—discussing the boys: who were good dancers, who wasn't, who was too shy or too cute, who did what, who kissed who, and, most importantly, who would they all fancy kissing for New Year's next year.

There was a minor kerfuffle when a portion of the party seemed to age 100 years and all the hair on their bodies turned bone white. And another portion seemed to fall asleep standing up.

The adults started to gather their charges around 1:30 in the morning when more than a few kids had fallen asleep at the tables. Harry said goodbye to Daphne and the Greengrasses before guiding an extremely tired and almost-asleep Hermione to the room she had picked out for herself when they first came there. On their way there, they passed the guests who had elected to stay the night at the manor. Most of the Muggle families, as well as the Malfoys (as Andromeda and Narcissa had been chatting and reconciling more and more all night), and the Weasleys. Ron had barely been able to lift his arm to salute a good night to his two friends, who were leaning heavily on each other as they walked past.

“Harryyyyy,” Hermione said in an exhausted whine as they reached her door. “I had a f-f-fantastic time, you know? This has been the b-best New Year’s e-e-ever,” she said through a stretch and a yawn as they arrived at her door.

“Yeah! I know what you mean, it's been great. This is definitely a tradition I want to keep up with.” Harry grinned, still with a manic energy from having such a fun time.

“I’d very much like to do something, but maybe right now isn’t the best time. I’m so sleepy I can’t keep my eyes open a second longer,” Hermione explained through her delirium.

“Err? That’s okay, Hermione. You can show me later, yeah?” said Harry uncertainly. “Good night, Hermione.”

“Good night, Harry.” Just then, Emma Granger seemed to swoop in out of nowhere and guide her daughter into the large room and into bed, calling out a friendly,

“Good night, Harry!”

Harry stood still for a second, hearing the two Granger women giggle distantly before setting off back down the hall past the room the twins were using he could hear missus weasley screaming at the twins and harry stoped to listen “half of them had white hair and the others could barely stay awake how dare you dise anymody with an experimental potion especiallyhere of all places you've been nothing but an embarrassment to this family ajd ive had enough of it. Tomorrow you are both apologizing to harry and then you are going to scrub that ballroom from top to bottom. WITHOUT MAGIC!” hearing some feeble excuses from the twins Harry continued on his way up the stairway, and into his private rooms. Toppy was there with a fresh cup of chamomile tea. He quickly ordered all his elves not to touch the ballroom tonight and to leave it for the twins. “serves them right.” Harry thought, and then realized they'd be in even more trouble when hermione gets up and then Harry drunk the small mug of tea quickly, It probably had something a little extra to help calm Harry's overly excited mind and allow him to sleep because it wasn't more than ten seconds later that Harry was asleep on the comfortable couch in his private sitting area. Before tuppy came and levitated him over to the master bed. Harry slept well that night. And dreamt of dancing with hermione in a golden ballroom, Hermione in a golden dress spinning her around in the grand empty room as music filled the air with a broken sorrowful yet wonderful melody.

A/N: I can't find any information on if British people use the term switch Or not but for those unaware, here is the states we use switches which Are a single flexible twig or sapling striped of leaves to whoop children who misbehave. Or well we used to corporal punishment is general frowned upon nowadays.

Closest thing I can find in Britain is a birch rod and evem to me who believes in corporal punishment that seems…… excessive.

Chapter Text

I'd like to start this chapter by saying rest in peace, Maggie Smith. I got word of her passing as I was writing this.

Dame Maggie Smith was a great actress and, by all accounts, a good person. She lived an amazing and long life, and I think the world is a bit less... well, it's a bit less without her.
No one could have brought our beloved Professor McGonagall to life quite as well as Maggie Smith.
“We teachers are rather good with magic, you know.”

The Day after the ball was filled with fun. The entirety of Potter Manor was filled with kids and parents enjoying time together socializing. Three rooms had been converted into game rooms and as the entire grounds was deemed a safe zone the kids who came from muggle families could show off their magic in ways they normally couldn't so the games had muggle and magical ways to play. Like gently banishing a cue ball in billiards to strike the balls instead of using a stick or the muggles rolling the balls in summoner's court (who knew the Potter family had those!) instead of summoning the balls.

Harry's quidditch team, and indeed every quidditch fan there, drooled over Harry's firebolt when he unveiled it explaining the gifts' origins. And the girls including Daphne all cooed as Hermione explained Harry and her - excursion- (for Harry refused to call it a date) to the theatre. And Harry received many compliments from various parents on how well he kept his clothes. On explaining the functions of his tie clip many mothers seemed determined to get some for their own son or daughter.

But sadly, accustomed to tragedies as Harry was, he was aware of how good times never lasted forever. And so it was a week after the New Year’s party that Harry was once again called upon by a very somber looking professor McGonagall.

“Lord Potter, you are needed at hogwarts. We have done all we can and prepared all we can. It is time to gamble.” The headmistress said in her thick Scottish brogue.

Toppy popped in with Smara in his arms and the snake all but lept to Harry's shoulders, hissing “I shall come!”

‘Well that raises some questions for later, doesn't it’ thought Harry, staring at his snake and the elf as he popped away.

And that was it. Harry knew there was no arguing with her, so he didn't. Thus after a short trip through a very uncomfortable narrow tube, Harry found himself standing at the entrance way to Hogwarts.

“I thought you couldn't apparate or disapparate on-”

“You are with me, Harry, and I dare say being headmistress does have its perks. Now come, we'll be going directly to the chamber. The families are with the children and I've no wish to distress them further.” So after a long walk down a long winding tunnel, Harry found himself in front of a door no one could open for the 4th time. Or was it the 5th?

“Right, you lot were coordinating this with 3 different ward teams. Our team, Team A is going to open the door with the known password and thereby start the siphoning ritual in the hospital wing. After it's begun we enter the room, find the ritual focus and dismantle it as fast and as safe as possible. Lord Potter, you're on standby for any parselmagic needed. In other words: if someone, anyone, calls out for you to say something don't wait, don't think, don't hesitate, say what they tell you verbatim. Got it?” asked the lead curse breaker.

At Harry's nod the man continued.

“Good, the other teams will be working at the same time to complete their goals. There will be house elves passing status reports between the three squads as well as mark the progress of the other two teams but mainly the team in the hospital wing. This is going to be difficult and dangerous. This will be one of the ultimate tests of your skills as curse breakers,— now that we all know our roles, get ready, we don't have time for questions.”

“Wait, why did you all wait so long to get me?” asked Harry.

The lead curse breaker heaved a large sigh. “Be-because we had arranged for an adult parselmouth to come and assist us. But the person who made their portkey was criminally incompetent and made a horrible mistake with the landing location of the portkey. Poor chap got put halfway through the floor of the international portkey office. I heard it was
…. messy, but that holds no bearing here and now. We have a job to do and it starts in less than a minute by my watch.” And true to his word a house elf bearing the crest of Hogwarts on its toga popped in and announced that it was time.

“Mr. Potter, if you could speak the phrase.”

And so Harry did. To his ears the words sounded like twisted Arabic, like the language spoken wrongly or at least spoken to resemble Arabic.

"al-sahr yighzy nufseh butlek al-qarabi ouatani sabab raghbeti maktoube bahrovek!”

After a second of inactivity the snakes on the wall shifted. This time however, they slithered inward, each with a loud clang as a bolt was drawn in. After the six snakes had drawn in on themselves, poised to strike, a seventh snake slithered out and moved along the outer edge of the door. A loud grating and grinding sound filled the air for a few seconds before the snake slid into a hole on the opposite side of the great stone door, and then the door slid inward and opened.

At the same time an elf popped into the tunnel and announced that “it has started to hurry the ley lines will only trick the magic for so long.”

“Right! Hurry you lot but be steady.”

And to Harry's amazement — although the curse breakers stormed into action and moved forward — they did not rush or run, instead they scanned the air and ground on each and every step moving with slow urgent movement. Moving slowly but not wasting time. He was about to take off in front of them but was grabbed by McGonagall.

“No Harry, stay behind them, they are the professionals; rushing about is fast but it's easier to make mistakes — I believe it is the American muggle military that has the saying “slow is smooth, smooth is fast.” Be patient, we set up a ritual to use the ley line intersection that the school rests on to trick the ritual into sucking up what is essentially useless energy for a time. However the ritual will realize it is lacking lifeforms and seek out a backup power source eventually. We don't know how long it will take, maybe one minute, maybe five but we have a moment to be cautious and careful.”

Finally, they were able to enter the door. What awaited them was a long causeway made of quarried stone; a banister on each side kept the water that was on either side of the path from flooding it. Every teen feet or so the path was lined by large sculptures of serpent heads positioned as if they were rising from the water to greet their master even after a millennia of absence.

“ How glorious!” said the headmistress.

A hiss filled the air coming from Smara.

“Yes! My father always favored theatrics. The path up to the centre of the chamber should be safe but it's good to be cautious nonetheless.” Harry translated.

Snape strode beside them, silent but staring in all directions taking in this most sacred of places to any true Slytherin.

True enough, the group was halted as the curse breakers stuck their hands back to say stop, moving while they twirled their wands around in the air casting various spells. Up ahead Harry could see the feet of an enormous statue at the apex of a circular chamber and a swirling shimmer like a heat haze in the air in the centre of the room but that was about it.

‘Pop’ a house elf appeared in the tunnel.
“The ritual has started hurting the students! Please hurry, we is doing what we can to slow it!”
‘Pop’

Just then a barrier of sorts splintered in the air and the curse breakers wasted no time entering the chamber and encircling a — what Harry saw to be — seven pointed star ritual circle; a confluence of magical energy was swirling around the circle and tendrils of magic in hues of red, green, blue and even a stream of purplish pink were flowing into a dark smokey mass at the centre of the circle from 5 of the smaller circles that decorated the tips of the star.

“ There's a fifth victim?” asked McGonagall. But it seemed fate had chosen to answer her question as a blaring white weasel bounded into the room to announce with the voice of Arthur Weasley. “Ginny has collapsed into a fit, we’re coming there.”

“Oh no, that's not good.” started the headmistress. “Severus, will he?”

“He will need to place her inside the ritual circle for the girl to have a chance at resistance or slowing the effect of the ritual. I will go, he will need medical attention and it's best Poppy focuses on the children.” With that Snape stormed off but not before emptying several potions from his pockets and placing them on the ground.

“Wiggenweld! Just in case” he called as he stormed off.

“Headmistress, what are those brightly coloured streams of magic?” Asked Harry looking for anything to preoccupy his mind.

“That Mister Potter is the natural colour of the individual students' raw magical energy. Yours for instance is green. Have you never noticed that your Lumos has a slight green tint to it? Or that your friend Hermione Granger tends to produce yellow bolts when casting the magic bolt spell?

The dark mass suddenly screamed as the curse breakers started their interference. It was still growing. Instead of a small amorphic blob of thick black powdery smoke, it now resembled a thin pillar but with two faintly glowing red marks near the top. It seemed to lash out but the black tendrils bounced off the shimmering swirling magic acting as a barrier for the ritual.

The black mass let out a deathly, inhuman, blood chilling screech. And tried again, tendrils shooting out and this time making it through the barrier but it was truncated by the magic a few seconds later. Bill Weasley and the rest of the curse breakers were working frantically at this point as they were now forced to dodge the attacks that should not have been able to reach them and yet a female and male curse breaker were finally reached and dragged into the circle, kicking and screaming in terror. Unlike the students who were getting siphoned from a distance, as soon as the two curse breakers made contact with the circle they were thrown on, their bodies were drained and then they broke down into a dry brown dust that swirled around the black mass. This time when the thing screeched, Harry heard a voice.

“DAMN THIS WASTEFUL RITUAL” it called out a disembodied inhuman voice that slithered through his ears and into his mind. The black mass now looked more solid and was vaguely human shaped; it had distinguishable arms, legs and a head and the glowing marks were now definitely eyes. But it lost some cohesion when with a cry of success 3 ritual circles splintered and deactivated. The victory cry didn't last forever as a wave of dark energy shot out and flung the violators a clear fifty feet against the far chamber wall. Harry didn't think any of them were dead but definitely injured and out of the effort.

“YOU SHALL NOT STOP ME” came a voice this time clear and distinctive for all in the chamber. “ 50 years I've stewed in that damned journal! I am the greatest of sorcerer's. Bow and accept me as the true ruler of this castle and I'll let you live!” This time a dark tendrils shot out and struck the lead cursebreaker dragged him through the ritual barrier which made the man scream like the other two, but McGonagall had covered his eyes to shield him from witnessing as he too went silent when his body landed on a circle.

”NOOOOOOO! NOT ARTY YOU BASTARD!” cried Bill Weasley and a few other curse breakers and with a ripping sound two empty ritual circles were shattered causing another rebound and blasting the wizards surrounding those circles and the black mass to be thrown through the air and land unmoving on the ground, the mass of smoke however shot to its feet, if it had feet that is. Some of the first group that had been thrown had got back on their feet and rushed over to help their colleagues who were dismantling the still functioning siphons.

“BOW BEFORE THE HEIR OF SLYTHERIN AND I'LL LET THE ONES THAT SURVIVE MY REVIVAL LIVE! OR YOU CAN FLEE FOR YOUR LIVES AND BE HUNTED DOWN LIKE VERMIN!” shouted the dark mass, some of the curse breakers now running interference for the black tendrils of energy, fighting back the evil magic with their wands to protect their team members.

‘Pop “Please hurry Missy Moon and Mr. Fletches is in deep deep trouble they has stopped shaking!” ‘Pop’

“Hurry!” Called out Harry. But a large blast shot out from the smokey creature and knocked the curse breakers that had been working away. Smara had decided to cast aside all caution and she leapt off his shoulders growing to her immense 60 foot full size and hissing at the shadow.

“Liar! Oathbeaker! Murderer! DIE TOM RIDDLE!” the great Serpent shouted in parseltongue as Harry shouted to the curse breakers “hide your eyes!” Causing them all to duck and cover their eyes on the ground or atleast close them tightly while they tried to continue working on dismantling the protections on the ritual circles. And Smara for the first time since Harry met her unlidded her eyes, her great gaze swept over the black mist and while it didn't and most likely couldn't die, it did scream in pain and began to lose some of the cohesion and solidity that it had gained. The shadows of bones it had been displaying crumbled back into the dusty smoke that made up its body. And a great wave of black energy struck Smara with enough force that she flew through the air and sunk into a pool to the left of the great statue's feet. She did not rise out of it. Harry rushed forward to help his friend but McGonagall held him down.“No! Harry! It is too dangerous! Smara would not want you risking yourself for her!”

“I don't care! Let me go, I have to help her. I can't let her-” ‘crack' the last two ritual circles shattered. Causing all the energy of the entire ritual to escape at once in a massive explosion that rushed out in every direction throwing everyone against every wall and a massive boom sounded as the huge statue's ankle cracked from the force. Harry and McGonagall had been thrown back through the entryway where he lay stunned.

After an interminable amount of time Harry pushed himself unsteady to his feet the world spinning around him. Barely able to see and mainly functioning on instinct, Harry staggered back into the chamber. He must have been the first to recover; he tripped over McGonagall's prone form but he was focused on one thing. In the centre of the room the shadow — now with the shadows of bones and sinew and shadowy muscles under invisible skin, and a human face that was even somewhat handsome, if disfigured — had just thrown aside the desiccated remains of a curse breaker. The figure held out his hand and Bill Weasley was flung into the creature's palm, weakly kicking and clawing, trying to break the thing’s grip. Harry quickened his approach as much as possible focusing on the creature,man,thing, shadow through his concussion and tunnel vision. As a blood red magical aura started to flow from the elder Weasley to the shadow being, Bill began to kick weaker and weaker and obviously fell unconscious. That was when Harry reacted. Without thought. Or worry. Or mercy.

“Difindo” Harry cast all but whispering the spell in a wide sweeping arc. It struck the shadows outstretched arm severing it and causing an unconscious Bill to fall limply to the floor. The spell also struck the shadows head just above the aetherial jawbone, the human features disappearing in a black mist. And the body of the shadow creature disappeared as well. disintegrating into nothingness.

Harry collapsed, his narrow vision allowing him to see as if from far away the visage of Salazar Slytherin in his full statuey glory. The boy's last thought before unconsciousness claimed him was that the man looked a bit like a monkey. Running, echoing footsteps approached.
___________________________________

When Harry first woke up he was quite confused, waking up in the hospital wing was nothing new for the boy thanks to quidditch. The only problem was that he couldn't remember playing quidditch recently. Nor were Hermione or Andromeda allowed to stay with him for something as simple as a quidditch injury.

The boy sat up rubbing his head. “Ow. My head.” He muttered through his sleepy delirium. Looking around he saw a great number of people around the beds which confused his tired brain even more, which hurt his tired brain even more. Letting his muscles go he plopped back down onto his bed and clutching his head over his eyes groaning in pain. He couldn't speak, he couldn't think, he couldn't remember!

“It's OK Harry it's OK we're here” said a concerned voice close by. He couldn't remember who it was. It was soft and comforting. He still clutched his eyes against the pain behind them. “Drink this dear, drink this it'll help” another cooler but still friendly voice called out softly as a bottle was pressed to his lips and liquid rushed into his mouth, obediently drinking down the liquid. The taste was awful was his only thought before oblivion took him back into its unfathomable grasp.

____________________________________

It was morning when Harry woke up again. Through his bleary and uncorrected eyes he saw the familiar shape of Hermione beside him. Reading a book and talking quietly to his neighbor in the bed next to him. He couldn't tell who it was as they were blocked out by Hermione's frizzy hair, nor hear what they were speaking about.

“Her-mine-ee” Harry started trying to speak. He saw his friend jump at his voice and swing around very quickly.

“Harry! Here, drink this.” She called louder than necessary while handing him a glass of cold water, well room temperature water. The hospital wing was always chilly. His best friend looked at him with concern. A flash of red passed her by in the background and coalesced into his other closest friend Ron Weasley.

“Hey mate, good to see you back in the land of the living” earning a smack to his arm and a “RONALD!” from Hermione. Laughing, the crass redhead spoke again “how you feeling mate? Anything Madam Pomfrey needs to know?”

Harry ignored this, concerned as he was for the others.“Bill?” Said Harry and an image of Ron's older brother injured and unconscious flashed through his mind. Sitting up he tried to find his glasses.

“Bill's fine Harry, they all are, a few broken bones but nobody-”

“Yes they did, Ron.” More images flashed into his mind of the fight? Battle? “I remember at least 3.” His friends looked at each other and sighed.

“Harry there were five deaths, but by all accounts It could have been so much worse.” supplied Hermione hugging him gently. “And I wouldn't bother looking for your glasses, they've been destroyed beyond repair. Bill said there was a blast. It looks like maybe your glasses caught a rock or maybe they were stepped on. Bill brought them and they were smashed to pieces when he went to look for them a few days ago.”

“Days?” Asked Harry.

“Yea” replied Ron “it's been three days since that fight went on. McGonagall said they have to scan the school for anything dark again and test to see if the foundations will still support the school's weight after that explosion. And then they'll make a decision. ”

“Yes.” Said McGonagall behind him. “And we'll need you Mister Potter to come with us and let us in the door again. After the last of the injured had been removed Smara sealed the door with her behind it. Most likely to protect whatever artifacts are there from the ministry pilfering them while you recover. But for now there is no need to rush, you can recover at your own pace Harry.”

“How is everyone?” asked Harry.

“Well enough, ninety percent of them had their bruises and bones mended the same night at Saint Mungos.

Bill Weasley is on a nutrient potion for the next 3 months. As well as all the students who had been siphoned

The students are all fine with nary a scar aside from the low nutrients. The worst one off was Miss Lovegood but she was rather willowy before and Mister Finch-Fletchley who will need a more stringent nutrient resupply course. They are lucky those marks were made by a wand and not an athame or they would have life long scars. I'm told Miss Weasley will be fine as well. Her skin has already regrown and she has started her nutrient program .” She nodded at the bed next to him.

“Arthur Weasley had to be sent to Saint Mungos to have his skin regrown. He's still there but will recover just fine as well, although he'll have to do daily stretches while his skin learns to bend and flex again. Same as Miss Weasley will have to do but I dare say joining Mister Wood’s quidditch training will do wonders for that. That's the price you pay for passing through an active ritual circle. He's lucky it was able to be regrown, ritual sacrifices rarely are given back.” She said, forestalling Harry's apology.

“Headmistress? Will you tell my aunt that I want to cover Mister Weasleys medical bills?” Asked Harry.

“There's no need” came the voice of Andromeda not far away. “I have already done so and I made it quite clear to Molly that the Potter family considers it an honor and will always assist those who sacrifice for their children.” Explained his steward. “Shut her arguments right up, it was great. ” Dora finished In a far more self satisfying and casual tone.

“That's g-g-good” Harry yawned “What now?”

“Now” interjected the matron. “You sleep, you've still got a level two concussion. It's amazing you're this cognizant. Drink this.” And she gave him a measured cup of some violently purple liquid and he went once more into the void. Only this time he dreamt. And at some point his dreams Turned to nightmares of writhing wraiths of ash, of mountain trolls crushing little girls. Of Dumbledore's cold face as he leveled his ancient and chilling wand and started throwing lethal spells at a crowd of children. And of his most recent horror this battle with the dark spirit of Tom riddle. And finally a cruel laugh and flashes of green light. His nightmares were soon soothed however when a warm embrace came over his mind and somewhere far off in the depths of his subconscious a song was played soft and lovely and comforting, a song half remembered and half forgotten. Like a friend he had had when he was very little, but had lost.

____________________________________

The next few days were spent in bed, Harry waking up periodically to see more and more beds open. He had actually been awake when Colin Creevey was discharged and led away by his pale mother and diminutive brother. The still overly excited although thoroughly calmed first year came up to Harry to thank him for his part in his rescue.

“Thanks for saving me Harry!” Called Colin as he approached Harry's bed.

“No problem Colin I didn't do very much but open a door. But don't make a habit of it yea? I think Madame Pomfrey will stitch me to the bed next time I come in here.” This caused the group, even Colins' still very weepy mother, to laugh.

“Yea lesson learned no more sneaking round at night. Although I was just trying to see where Ginny was going. Poor girl.” Ginny had been discharged the day before.

Harry swore he was fine other than being tired, he was of the opinion that madam Pomfrey was punishing him rather than “being overly cautious.” as the matron said every time he complained. After saying goodbye to Colin all that remained in the ward was Hermione who was napping in Ginny's old bed and Luna Lovegood, the girl had been silent everytime he was awake simply staring forward. But Harry's eyes were heavy again and no resistance could be found to keep him from his dreamscape.

The next morning after his exams by the matron and breakfast Harry decided to have a walk, so with Hermione's assistance he made it out of bed and over to Luna who did not react to his presence.

“Hello Luna!” he received no response from the first year. “Errrr, are you feeling ok?” Still no response. “I'm sorry for your troubles Luna if you want you can come and talk to me and Hermione whenever you're ready ok?” A slight nod came from the silver protuberant eyes of the girl. And Harry and Hermione made a few laps around the hospital wing before settling back in his bed. He was discharged the next morning.

When Harry arrived in his apartment in Diagon Alley, Nymphadora Tonks, who had moved into the apartment while she was in the auror academy and Harry was in school, was there sitting and eating breakfast. Hermione had gone home to spend time with her parents and fill them in on Harry's condition. “I bet they're so worried.” she said as she all but dove out of the fireplace.

“Ahh looks like they finally made a decision for Hogwarts!” said Harry's metamorph cousin from across the table. That got Harry's attention.

“Really? So what's going on.” In answer Tonks put on her best 1940s newsreel voice, grew a ridiculously thick mustache even uncle Vernon would have admired, and started to read.

“Trouble at hogwarts!

As our readers are aware of from prior articles there has been trouble of the highest order at Hogwarts school this year which according to sources from inside the school came to a head two Wednesdays past when a team of curse breakers assaulted the chamber of secrets and broke down a ritual that sought to take several students' lives. After many hours of debate, and scans and tests to redouble certainty that the school is safe, the board of governors has decided to reopen the millenia old institution. Term restarts on Monday, January, 18th, 1993. For full details see the article on page five.” read Tonks.

“That's good,” said Harry with a thousand yard stare.

“You ok kiddo?”

“Yea, It's just,” but Harry hesitated unsure of how to put words to his thoughts.

“Your training to become an auror right, have you ever been in a real fight like life and death?” Asked Harry with scrunched eyebrows.

“Nope, can't say I have had lots of training yet though. Why?” Asked his cousin.

“I wasn't really in the fight, McGonagall she- she kept me away, but then, — I killed, Tonks. How can I go back to school after that? How can I be a regular kid? I made the choice to kill that thing that was attacking everyone. An explosion went off and I wasn't thinking and I saw an opening and I cast a diffindo at that thing. It had a human face and I sent a cutting curse right at it without hesitation. What- how could I do that so easily?” explained Harry getting more and more desperate, breathing harder with each word and falling into a panic attack .

“Oooooh Harry! No no no!” Tonks said getting up from her seat quickly and wrapping him in a comforting hug.

“You're ok Harry, I promise, ok? It was a really bad situation and you were injured. You have the instincts of a warrior Harry. You just said that you weren't thinking, you reacted to a threat, not just to yourself but everyone in the room with you. You are fine, it will be okay.” Tonks spewed barely connected sentences in an effort to comfort Harry, but almost as soon as he felt Nymphadora wrap her arms around him Harry broke. He broke down into a million pieces and openly wept onto her shirt; he didn't know how long he clung to his cousin like a lifeline.

Vaguely Harry was aware of Tonks muttering something and a bright white light filled the room bringing with it a sense of unending joy and it tore through the despair Harry was feeling for a second before the blissful feeling left. She then muttered something again and Harry caught sight of a large white peacock as it rushed off through a solid wall.

“I've sent for mum, Harry. She can help you alot more than I can. But let me make one thing clear for you ok? You are not a monster. You're not evil. You're not even outright nasty. You're a sweet kid who's been through a lot. Your brain thinks for you and before you acknowledge its thought process it's already acting. It's called having good instincts. You saved Bill, right? Harry, you saved a friend and everyone else in the room. Maybe everyone in the country. You stopped the second rise of Voldemort with that attack. You're a hero!”

“Heroes don't kill.” Harry tried to argue.

“One day soon I'm going to tell you the story of my grandpa Tonks who fought during the blitz. And that story alone will change your mind. Heroes, Harry, do what needs to be done when it needs to be done, how it needs to be done to make sure others, the innocent, can see another sunrise. And that's what you did that day. It will be hard Harry but don't let it bother you overly much and don't bottle this stuff up. If you have nightmares or flashbacks, speak to someone. Talking to someone is incredibly helpful. I'm a letter away at any time of day. They told me that in training. Always have someone you can talk to.”

Just then Andromeda walked through the green fire that suddenly filled the floo and looked around, seeing Harry with obvious tear marks on his face and her daughter holding him. Noting the fast ragged breaths of her nephew, she nodded and strode forth.

“Are you alright Harry? Nym-dora said that she feared you wouldn't calm down.”

“I'll be a-alright. I think it just hit me hard. I killed something. Not for the first time but I don't think Quirrell was really my fault, Smara bit him after my mother's protection started to burn him. Made it 10 times worse. Until.” Harry couldn't finish his explanation. “But I'll be Fine i think. for now.”

“No need for a calming drought?” She pulled a bottle out but stashed it at Harry shaking his head to indicate the negative.

“I need to get Smara, she's still down in the chamber. And I'm thoroughly sick of potions. They help but they taste like the 5 level of satan's ball sack” Harry said.

Andromeda and Dora shared a glance before his aunt said. “I'm not sure if that's a good idea Harry. It might put you back into a panic attack” choosing to ignore Harry's crass language.

“ I need to get Smara today. I refuse to let my own bad thoughts stop me from going anywhere I want. If I have flashbacks then we'll deal with them there and carry on” Harry said with finality.

“That's a very adult outlook, Harry, even if I’m not thrilled. Fine we shall go at once since you're so adamant. Go get ready and I'll floo Minerva.” said Andromeda.

“And I need to get going. I'm about to be late,” said Dora, jumping from the table.

“OH NO! I'm so sorry Dora! I didn't me-” but Tonks hugged him and silenced his apology.

“It's alright Harry, you're just as important as my career.” And she all but dived through the floo.
___________________________________

Harry and Hermione, who he had insisted on bringing with him, stood at the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, the door once again sealed. There were 3 ministry employees being fed a dose of mandrake draught by a pipette. Obviously they, like his uncle all those months ago, had been petrified. And a larger group of ministry officials and professors including professor Snape and the minister milling around waiting. The minister was having a whispered conversation with an extraordinarily pale bald man with deep sunken eyes, not unlike the vampire from the old classic film nosferatu, Harry shivered at the sight of him, but the man and then the minister caught sight of Harry and hurried over.

“AHH! Mister Potter, wonderful, just the chap we need. We finally had word back from another parselmouth we at the ministry had been contacting and brought him in to further explore and clear out Slytherin’s chamber. But I don't think we were expecting your familiar to be guarding it. She petrified people, Harry, including the parselmouth Mister Necalli Chamalli.” The Minister gestured to a man that was on the ground and wearing the pelt of a jaguar. “He's an Aztec shaman from magical Mexico. That's not what it's actually called but I'll be a monkey's uncle before I'm able to pronounce the word they use, teotollican or some such nonsense. Poor fellow got petrified the moment we opened the door. This is the third time we've tried to open the door, your familiar is being most unreasonable.”

“It's Smaragain ac-” Cutting off Harry the minister continued.

”Well anyway Harry. I know we disagree on who these artifacts belong to but an attack on a human by any familiar is a finable offense.” The Minister looked at him severely.

“I understand the fine minister and I apologize greatly for Samara’s overenthusiasm for defending her father's artifacts. And will of course pay all fines entailed, now I believe we can settle this dispute quite easily, according to my steward that is, but later, let's get the door open first shall we?” Harry said and walked up to the door and stood beside the group that was being unpetrified.

“Ay Dios mio!” Said the Aztec mage looking around he spoke several lines of very fast Spanish, as well as an even stranger sounding language. Before looking around at the confused faces around him and groaning in frustration.

“Que? Oh, Mi Maldini hechizo traductor dejaó de Funcionar Estûpidos coños británicos!” He said in a clearly exasperated voice before pulling out his wand, even in the dim light of the tunnel Harry could tell that the wood was royal purple with a black handle.

“That is an interesting wand!” Harry spoke in Parseltongue.

“A speaker? And a niño none the less! The fat man with the stupid hat spoke of you. We shall have to find time to speak together. No?” The man replied back in parseltongue looking very amused. Casting a quick charm over himself he spoke again.

“I am Senior Necalli Chamalli, it means battle shield. It's a pleasure to meet another speaker.” Mister Chamalli was a man of short stature barely 5’6 with a square head and an almost red skin tone and although he projected an aura of youth, the hair flecked with grey and the obvious wrinkles put his age at around 50, if he were a muggle that is. His long nose, wide cheekbones and short broad chin gave the man a very chiseled look and he spoke with a deep soft voice. “My wand is very rare even in Mexico. Katalox wood, also known as Mexican ebony with a feather of a Quetzalcoatl that was gifted to me by one of the feathered serpents themselves as a core. It is my pride and joy niño” this time the man seemed to speak English but Harry realized that the charm the man used was most likely a universal translator of sorts.

“It's a pleasure to meet you as well. My name is Harry Potter, and that is a handy spell. So shall I or shall you.” Harry said.

“You, niño, I don't look forward to meeting that snake's eyes again.” He said back nervously.

“Very well, did anyone reset the password?”asked Harry.

“Yes.” replied fudge “ without the ritual blocking alterations it was quite easy for us to work it out.

“Open!” Harry called out and the door went through the overly complicated unlocking sequence that caused Harry to roll his eyes.
When the door opened he was met with the orange eyes of Smara that quickly unlidded her eyes to the sparkling cool emeralds he was used to. “Stop!” Harry called Out throwing his arms out and causing the ministry officials to stop in surprise. “ I, Harry James Potter, claim these chambers and everything they contain as my rightful spoils as the person to defeat their previous master, Tom Riddle. And cousin by blood to their original owner.” Magic swirled around him for a few seconds judging him and the veracity of his claim. His Lord's ring shone brightly in response.
When the magic settled and his ring stopped glowing everyone there understood. These rooms now belonged to Harry and not even the Wizengamot could change it. “Now I understand the ministry will want to check things out but I will not let unknown people run around unchecked in my property without cause. So, Minister, you can have three people with you and Mister Necalli Chamalli you may come as well, Smara never gets to talk to anyone and I'm sure she'd welcome a parselmouth who isn't 12 to speak to.”

“ Very well, very well.” Fudge said through clenched teeth. “Croaker pull two of your researchers in won't you.” Behind him the grotesque looking man gestured to two ambiguous researchers Harry couldn't tell if they were male or female. By the door Harry did a long sweeping gesture ending in a flamboyant bow to Hermione.

“Ladies first and since I can't tell if any of the ministry people are female that only leaves you and my aunt and the headmistress.” This caused Hermione to giggle nervously and they walked into the main room and strode down the snake lined causeway to the main chamber beyond. Harry at her side with the ministry personnel following Necalli talking with Smara in complex hisses following and McGonagall and Andy taking up the rear.

Hermione had her head on a swivel and for once it seemed she couldn't think of a single question to ask. She simply examined everything
Everyone was in awe of the chamber they stood in the middle of. All signs of the fight that took place to end the ritual prematurely had been erased leaving a gleaming (if only because the walls were coated in slime) room. The centerpiece of the chamber was the massive statue of Salazar Slytherin. Although Harry could hear the distant shouts and yells of the curse breakers as they fought to destroy the black mass, he was able to shake his head and keep calm, this room and having Hermione there was enough to keep him grounded.
The statue looked to be modeled after an older Salazar Slytherin. His shoulders stooped with age, his head bald and chin covered by a rather severely angled beard that hung down to his naval; dressed in what were meant to be fine robes but it definitely did not translate well to stone. The chamber itself was almost perfectly circular with a horseshoe shaped mote of water around the circumference except a ten foot area to the left and right of the massive statue.

Harry looking around asked Smara “ Where did you wake up, queen? Where were you kept for so long?”

“SPEAK TO ME FATHER GREATEST OF THE HOGWARTS FOUR!” Was what she called out in response filling the air with a loud bone chilling sequence of hisses that every person in the hall reacted to. Like terrified mice trapped in their burrow. The mouth of the great statue dropped open and revealed a pitch black chasm at its depths.
“There isn't anything there except for tunnel entrances to the school's original plumbing. Hardly worth exploring, however if you turn your gaze, there on either side of my father's feet open the hidden doors, young one. One to a library. The other door in a repository of artifacts Not even I know what they all do.” Smara spoke, causing Harry and Necalli To look at the spaces she indicated.

“Well,” spoke Harry, “one is a library and one is a repository. I don't see any point in you all trying to read snake language so we’ll all check out the repository and I shall allow the ministry to take three artifacts for their assistance in dealing with the ritual.” and so Harry opened the door that Smara indicated and Necalli, Hermione, and Harry with Smara now riding on his shoulders in her shrunken form walked first into the room.

What they saw amazed Harry. The room itself was just as large if not larger than a Quidditch pitch. With rows and shelves and columns all decorated with dust covered magical artifacts. It would take months if not years to catalog everything, but Harry saw a definite trail through the dust where a young Tom Riddle must have once tread and Harry followed the surprisingly purposeful trail like the young Voldemort knew where to go. And he stopped oddly enough at a large book. It was leather bound and Harry understood what must have drawn the young Slytherin to this point. The weathered dust covered book was bound in what Harry thought was human flesh. The book's cover detailed the tight grimace of a human looking face long since past. The pale man named Croaker strode up at once and plucked the book from the shelf at once without hesitation.

“I'm sorry, Mister Potter. I must claim this book. It is a black book. I must turn this over to the reliquary in the ICW central vault. All black books must be turned over once found they are an abomination unto nature and magic. I ask that this does not affect the amount of artifacts that the ministry can collect here.”

“I understand and will not hold that book against you. I don't want to own it and would have destroyed it. It's disgusting.” This got a laugh out of the horrible looking man.

“You can destroy this book no easier than you could destroy a god. These Books are bound in the flesh of the fey by Morgana herself. In fact it's not only bound but the vellum in which it is written on is also fey flesh fey children to be correct. Even the ink is made of the blood of the fey and in them are written the darkest secrets of magic known only to Morgana herself and whatever black spirits she learned them from. You can't destroy these books; they are essentially bound in the skin of gods.”

The very idea of those books are repugnant thought Harry. “Please get that thing out of here then why it was left here of all places.” Said Harry, staring at the book as the bald man dropped it into a bottomless bag.

“It's because it was left here that it has been hidden for a thousand years. Mister Potter, Salazar Slytherin was a mean, nasty and hateful wizard by all accounts, but he was not evil. This would explain Voldemort's black knowledge of magic.”

With that Harry took in the room, in the center a large cut emerald floated above the ground with six smaller emeralds orbiting it. The large central emerald was more than ten feet tall and eight feet wide, while the smaller ranged from one to three feet in width. The minister had made his way over to it and was gesturing at it.

“We'll take this one Harry. It's magnificent. And the unspeakables say the only magic on it is what makes the emeralds float.”

“I agree, minister, as long as you use it to replace the current fountain in the ministry atrium. That thing is horrible.” Said Harry after looking at Andromeda who nodded.

Hermione a few rows away found several gleaming suits of Armour all emblazoned with the Slytherin coat of arms. “All or most of this stuff seems like decorations that didn't make it into the final version of Hogwarts? It's all very neat and everything but-” she stopped speaking unsure how to phrase her statement.

Harry spoke up, translating for Smara.
“Most of everything in this section is exactly that. The most dangerous and interesting things are in the back.”

“It is there I need you to go master. There is something for you if Tom Riddle did not take it”

And Harry made his way back to the dangerous artifacts. The unspeakables must have dialed in on the magic around here as they were all congregated around and scanning the various artifacts, from a full scale iron maiden, to a strange cube that shifted and danced with in confines of its own outlines, and- “ahhh there they are” said Smara. On a weapons rack were three very odd weapons: two daggers and one spear.
The daggers matched perfectly, each one was acid green with a wavy spine and jagged blade but even at a distance Harry could tell they were beyond sharp. The spear or maybe it was a cleaver with a long handle matched the material of the daggers but this blade was wide and sweeping suited for slicing and chopping. Its handle was a mere meter in length. None of the weapons were made of metal in fact when Harry reached out and flicked the spine of the spear it sounded like porcelain.

“I wondered what my father did with those. They are ancient weapons made of materials no longer understood by magic or humanity. I believe my father called it orichalcum, but that is not what I want you to acquire, useful though they are. I'll tell you their known history later. Beside them on the table is a stone box, open it, slowly.” And Harry reached out and slowly touched the seamless stone block. It popped open with a click, and Harry slowly opened it. The unspeakables had stopped their scanning because they too felt the strange energy that was released as soon as the seam opened. When he opened it he was met with a glittering gemstone that shone with a sickly inner light that shot off jets of yellow and green light around the confines of the gem.

“That is an artifact of Galapas, Merlin's master. Inherited by my father's family after the imeris disappeared. It Is a magical focus like a wand used by Merlin as a head for his staff as no Wand would accept his touch. If a regular wizard touches it, it will burn them at best. it takes an extremely gifted and powerful wizard to wield. My father was the only one of the founders who could and the only of his family who could. It also has many other uses, detailed in a book that is kept below it. But it will need translating. Take it to Black stone Manor, little one, and place it in the care of your ancestor. Tell no one what that stone is.” Smara explained in a calm almost whispering voice.

Harry wordlessly closed the stone chest that sealed itself at once back into a seamless block of black quartz. “Aunt Andy? Could I put this box and those blades in your expanded bag?”

“As long as they have sheathes. Expanded or not, those things will cut my bag to shreds.” Said Andy.
Harry quickly found the sheaths for the weapons and put them all in Andromeda’s extended hand bag.

“I'll explore the rest of this later. Mist-errrr unspeakables? What else have you found? Anything you want to study?”

A modulated voice spoke up then. “Yes, aside from the- thing you took which I assume is off limits?”

“You assume correctly.” The unspeakable nodded in return before continuing sounding sullen.

“We have decided to take this arithmetic constibulant. It is a very very rare tool whose method of construction was lost eons ago and the department of mysteries has never managed to acquire one. And we will also be taking that artifact against the far wall. It has…. familiar energy with another artifact in our care.” It was a large black door whose view port you couldn't see through even though it was an open port with thick iron bars in the way.

Harry looked over to Smara and she nodded.

“Alright that sounds fair! Now I know my friend Hermione is drooling to get into that library and so is Mister Necalli it looks like.” And Harry, Hermione and everyone else soon left with their spoils. Even Hermione had found a nice staff that when tapped thrice onto the ground the white quartz in the head would glow with a bright light, brighter than even twenty lumos spells.
“That is a Prefect’s staff I believe. Or an early version of one. They fell out of fashion when the lumos spell was invented around the turn of the 19th century. I can think of no student I'd like to see wield it.” explained the headmistress to the two students.

The jaguar warrior chose to open the door when the group reached it. With a lot of pomp and flare but with the look the man sent at the headmistress Harry assumed he was flirting. ‘Was that a blush on McGonagall?’ Harry thought as they entered the library. They quickly realized that it was not as grand as the artifacts rooms, only about fifteen feet wide and just as long with magical flameless lanterns on the walls that were entirely stuffed with book shelves from floor to ceiling except for a square protrusion on the far wall, another door. One of the unspeakables couldn't resist and plucked a book off the walls.

“Oh how fascinating!” They said,

“What!” called the other unspeakable.”

“It's utter nonsense! Look, just hieroglyphic snakes.” The unspeakable handed the book to Harry but Harry didn't see hieroglyphs at all.

“ and through this the confluence of energy around the grounds and the ley lines on eastern Wales codec-what is this?” Harry read, quickly getting bewildered and thumbed back until he was at the start of the chapter. “How to converge lay energy to heat your morning tea. OH REALLY” said Harry shut the book and threw it only for the book to glide back to its resting place.” What a waste of magic!” But that passage apparently had meaning to the headmistress.

“My word! So that's how that plate works?” With everyone silently looking at her she cleared her throat to demurely explain. “There is a plate fixed into the head’s desk, it produces an orb of hot air just big enough for you to place a mug of tea on it with the handle sticking out. It keeps the tea at perfect temperature all year. Enchantments, even simple ones don't tend to last for 100 years let alone a thousand but I figured they'd found a way to feed it with energy from the ambient magic of the school. To find out it's fed through ley lines is simply outrageous.”

Harry said hesitantly as he translated for Smara “Slytherin did it for an experiment on how to fuel the wards before the school was built, apparently when doing it with large amounts of energy like the wards need, you start getting cracks in the earth. It's how these caves were formed to begin with.” He finished as he translated for Smara.

The minister chimed in then. “Harry, you must let us interview Smara; her historical insights are simply amazing. So much gets lost simply because people don't think it important enough to write down.”

“I agree, Minister, but that's up to her. Well, shall we see what's through door number three?” With everyone's agreement Harry spoke “open!” to open the door but was brought up short when nothing happened causing hermione to laugh as she reached forward and pulled the door open by the handle. “Honestly Harry you're turning into such a wizar-” but she stopped speaking, and why became clear immediately. Sitting in a chair, at a desk, in a dusty but handsomely furnished office was a human skeleton, dressed in oddly familiar robes but Harry couldn't place where he'd seen them. It sat, its head resting against the back of the chair with its arms resting on the armrests, like whoever it was died after falling asleep after writing. In fact, that's what appeared to have happened as there was a carefullyyy discarded letter sitting in a less dusty portion of the writing desk. Tom Riddle had been here too it seems. Harry saw a wand covered in a millennia of dust beside the letter when he picked the parchment up as gently as he could. He began to speak aloud.

“Thou read the final words of Salazar Slytherin, greatest and last of “the hogwarts four." Back i came aye swore i ne'r-” But Harry stopped. “I can't read this, it's in old English I think… Or he was too far gone to write correctly.” said Harry flippantly. The headmistress strode forth and gently took the page from him. She cleared her throat and began to read aloud thankfully translating.

“Here you read the last words of Salazar Slitherin, greatest and last of “the hogwarts four.” I came back here after years and swearing I'd never return. I came back, old age and nostalgia got the best of me in the end. Godric would be weak in the knees seeing how feeble the security is at this school. It is pitifully inadequate. I got all the way here without even once being accosted by a staff member or prefect.

Smaragain is still sleeping blissfully ignorant of her betrayer being so close. I thought of waking her up to say my goodbyes but I doubt I'd be able to cast the spells to bind her into sleep again. For the last time in my life my limbs and magic betray my will.

The reasons I came back to this building no longer matter. I feel my heart slowing. If you have found this letter and my body then you are a parselmouth and I leave this all to you. I'm the last Slytherin and my family, the Gaunts, Blacks and Potters have never produced a parselmouth to my knowledge. I find myself wondering what will you do with it. What world did you grow up in? I hope it was a kinder one than I grew old in. Far too much death I've seen.

I ask that you release my serpent companion, my daughter from her slumber; she'll have been sealed for too long. By then she'll be a fast and strong companion in what travels you might have.

This is goodbye, from the last of the founders. I can feel the reaper on my shoulder.and I need to close my eyes a second.

SALAZAR S. SLYTHERIN 06,07,1168 AD.”

“My word” said the minister achingly quiet. A sentiment felt by everyone in the room.

The pale man named Croaker spoke up. “Every report that has survived the era tells us that Slytherin disappears some one hundred years after the founding of Hogwarts but this letter is dated to almost two hundred years after the founding. Not unheard of for wizards, especially powerful ones. But even two hundred and twenty is stretching it; he must have been around two hundred and fifty when he passed.”

“We will call for a state funeral for him, as a founder it's the least we can do. In fact one of you go and get the vultures… I mean the press from the gates. While the school is closed we shall hold Slytherin in state in the great hall for people to come and pay respects before entering him at the tomb of the founders. If that's alright by you, Lord Potter, as his closest living relative?”

“It sounds more than reasonable, Minister, thank you for honoring an ancestor of mine so thoroughly” Harry said with a bow causing Andromeda to bow and Hermione to mirror his aunt. After that McGonagall conjured a golden stretcher and an English flag with gold tassels around the edge that folded itself. While she did that the unspeakables placed sticking charms on the joints of the ancient founder so that his skeleton would remain intact when lifted and then they levitated Slytherin’s remains onto the stretcher.

____________________________________

By the time they got out of the chamber a group of reporters and photographers had gathered at the gate and had taken photos. The Minister was smart in this as he had organized the group the stretcher was in the middle of two groups one group was lead by the minister followed by croaker and the two unspeakables that followed them inside. The other column was led by the headmistress, then Harry with Smara on his shoulders and then the Aztec Parselmouth Necalli Chamalli followed by Andromeda. The group walked with the English flag covering the stretcher and ignored the group of reporters, who silently followed the procession into the Great Hall.

‘It seems everyone can tell this is a huge deal‘ thought Harry.

Without any pomp or circumstance the minister took to the golden owl podium at the center of the high table and started speaking.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the press, no, of the whole nation, today we have solved an ancient mystery. Multiple mysteries, in fact. With the help of jaguar mage Chamalli and Lord Potter who are both parselmouths, we unlocked the fabled Chamber of Secrets for the second time in living memory. Additionally, for the first time we were able to fully explore it without a deadly battle standing in the way. In this chamber we discovered many great treasures, claimed as inheritance by Lord Potter. But we also uncovered a scriptorium. A rather fancy word for the office that it was. And in this office rested the body of Salazar Slytherin himself. We have decided to hold a state funeral next week and he being the founder who reportedly went missing before his death will be laid in state here in the Great Hall of Hogwarts where he had been for so long before. Any and all who wish to pay respects to him may do so. - And on the first day of school when the students have returned, we shall lay him to rest with the help of the student body. We shall inter him with his three colleagues in the tomb of the founders. Questions?” What followed was a lot of hasty but well reasoned questions including things like

“What will be done with the chamber!” One reporter asked only for Harry to speak up at Andromeda's motion.

“After I move all of my ancestor’s belongings to a secure location and the chamber is cleaned and fully safe I intend to let Hogwarts have full and unfettered access to the artifact room, the small library and of course Slytherin’s scriptorium. However, I suspect it won't be ready within the year.” Harry answered. And McGonagall stepped in as well.

“Yes, there is a large event in the planning stage for the year after next and I already hope to unveil it to the foreign guests.”

And then another question “what artifacts were in the chamber?”
“Many magical tools and implements as well as personal effects only a parselmouth can utilize.” Croaker spoke in his creepy fashion. The questions continued for a few minutes before they proceeded.

Suddenly with seemingly no one's direction the staff table split into two and was pushed back along the curved wall behind the high tables dias and from the ground a slab of grey stone fell in and slid to the side and from the hidden depths an altar of polished black quartz rose up in the exact centre of the dias. The stretcher containing the remains was sat upon the bier. As soon as the stretcher made contact with the stone every candle in the hall morphed into black tapering candles lit with a purple blue flame that Harry recognized from the death day party, and the tapestries that hung from the ceiling turned black with a great silver S in the centre. The large windows darkened and the ambiance followed.

The castle itself was mourning.

Harry found himself shunted about taking photos after photo, he felt incredibly awkward the entire time. Unlike his Aztec counterpart who seemed to thrive in the limelight. The press seemed to fixate on the wild and graceful older man with his jaguar skin robes. It was hours later that the man approached Harry as everyone was already beginning to leave.

“You niño have much to learn, yes?”

“I guess, I've never been comfortable with my fame.”

“Aye, I've met the type before. My people's ruler has a son who grew up in the spotlight. He seems to like it as much as a deer likes ticks.” the older man said.

Harry shrugged in response and noticed another detail of the man's strange wand. He got Hermione's attention and asked his question when she had made her way over to hear them. “Your wand. Why does it have rocks in it?” Harry asked, pointing at the man's wand that had a row of black shining stones running up both sides of the shaft.

“It is styled after a traditional “macuahuitl” an Aztec - sword I guess you could call it instead of a long fixed blade of metal. Since my People did not have metal working to that degree the macuahuitl had obsidian, which is glass made in a volcano, blades attached to the sides. Mine are more decoration and less functional but obsidian does channel magic very well.”

“That's amazing!” said Harry and Hermione together. “Our wands are nowhere near as intricate” supplied Hermione further.

“Oh yes, you Brits of course swear by the Ollivander family and they are very good wand smiths but he is not the most creative.” Necalli said. “One day soon niño, we shall have to sit and talk like true speakers.” He ended before waving Farewell and walking away.

____________________________________

It was several hours later that Harry found himself deep below Blackstone Manor. He had just placed the stone container on an empty table next to a sphere of polished black rock. The insides sometimes flared with an inner orange light like fire trying to get out. It had no label so while dangerous it seemed his ancestors weren't sure of what the thing did or how to distribute it at least.

“And what exactly did you bring here My Lord, a bit young to start the collection aren't you?” Asked his ancestor's portrait. This prompted Harry to explain his life and a shortened tale of the events of this year to the painting.

“So that would be “no” then — you've most certainly inherited the Potter propensity for problems as well. This life would get boring without trouble to sort through, ey?”

“I've accepted that I'll probably not have a quiet life. I'll be bringing more of Slytherin's artifacts here soon. Can I expand this space?”

“It expands as needed when you fill it up. The next time you enter it will be larger once more. That orb you brought in, there is a ring in our family that matches its description, as well as origin. I would be interested to see how those two interact.”

“Something for a different day, I'm knackered” said Harry yawning and went back up through the house. Harry was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

A/N: i hope all the recent hurricane victims a speedy recovery.

Chapter Text

Harry found the state funeral he was required to attend almost unbearably dull. From the hundred of Slytherin students coming in and acting sad to the four days of speeches of the man's accomplishments listed out by people that Slytherin neither met nor would care about had he the chance of an introduction. The only interesting thing that happened was Harry having to translate for Smara and find a way to convey her emotions to those that listened. So when it was finally her allotted time to speak she grew to her full and considerable height and stood behind the podium wrapping half her body around the dias containing her father's remains.

Harry approached the podium and started an introduction for those unaware of his serpent companion’s status.

“Hello and good evening, wizards and witches, lords and ladies, students, colleagues, and friends. For those of you who do not know me, I am Lord Harry Potter, and this is Smaragdine Slytherin, familiar and "daughter" of Salazar Slytherin. As she is the only living creature who had a personal connection with the dearly departed, the Ministry has allowed her to speak last at this state funeral in place of any blood family, as he has none living. I will be translating her speech for your benefit.”

After half a minute of the crowd listening to sibilant hissing, Harry began to speak.

"I thank all of the generous and compassionate souls who traveled here to honor my father. Being the vain man he was, he will be quite pleased to have drawn such a crowd so long after he left this world behind. No doubt he will be ribbing Godric in the next life right now.”

“These past days I have thought long and hard about what to say that hasn't already been said. My father was indeed a great man, a powerful mage, and a fast friend. He did indeed put his all into defending his beliefs, and I witnessed many arguments in these very halls about how vociferously he debated the other founders. What can I add to these compliments given by people who did not physically know him and can still list his atrocities so well even across all this time?

In truth, I cannot. My father was a difficult man to care for and very cantankerous in his ways. But he loved me as much as he did any human and entrusted me with the most important task he could imagine: defending this school, his life's work. I shall continue the task my father set for me in his honor.”

Eventually, the hall cleared with many people admiring Smara's dutiful words. Smara hated it. At least six times Harry had to restrain his friend from reacting to those people “tainted by dark magic,” as she said.

“They were controlled, Andromeda told me, forced against their will to serve Voldemort,” Harry explained.

“Hmph! At least two of those foul beings smelled of fresh blood! They were controlled no more than a dog biting a stranger!” Smara bit back.

“Well, we can send in an anonymous tip to Lady Bones at least. It was that husband and wife combo, right? The Carrolls, I think? I've met them before. I swear they're brother and sister. Bleurgh.” Harry, shuddering at the thought, started to leave the hall with Smara's affirmation. Instead of leaving, though, he made his way down to the chamber where he was unsurprised to find Severus Snape, who had let the man into the chamber that morning, thumbing through the artifacts room.

“See anything you like, Professor?” Harry called out while the greasy-haired potions master's back was turned. Snape turned in response.

“Yes, Potter, I have. I would like to take these suits of armor up and decorate the dungeons with them. The armor stands that were once there have been damaged over the years and not replaced, as well as that long-blackened desk. The Slytherin common room is in need of more homework space, and the students will no doubt treat the table with more reverence than they currently do. Finally, there is an old collection of professional potions pigeonhole bins I would like for the student store cupboard, which, as you have undoubtedly noticed, stands in a state of disrepair that the Reparo Charm fails to fix.”

“All fair, Professor. Please, help yourself. And I would also like to give you copies of Slytherin’s potion notes. They are most likely horrifically out of date, but as a true Slytherin, I thought you would appreciate them, not to mention there are several books about the different uses of basilisk venom, and I’m sure they’ve never been published,” said Harry. It seemed to have gotten Snape’s attention.

“I accept that generous gift with honor, Potter. I will put the collection in a place of pride in my office. What are you going to do with the rest of these, out of curiosity?”

“Andy suggested a charity auction. Personal effects of the founders are big money makers. She says I’m letting her work out the details, but all the money will be going to Hogwarts. I certainly don’t need it. Well, goodbye, Professor. Please close the door.”

Harry went to the small section of harmful and dangerous artifacts—the sixth trip he had made now to the section—and retrieved the last of the artifacts, which he carefully placed into stasis containers he had brought with him and put into his bag. After that, he made his way to Slytherin’s Scriptorium through the (now) empty library. Several times he had made a trip here now, each time convinced he’d find another door hidden in the wall, but each time he had been disappointed.
The scriptorium itself was a large room filled with collected and handwritten books, tomes, and scrolls. A handsome desk sat in the focal point of the room, which, thanks to the Hogwarts house elves being set loose on the entirety of the chamber, was dust-free for the first time in millennia. Behind the desk sat a portrait that was sadly laid in tatters, mostly ripped to shreds by Slytherin himself—or maybe Tom Riddle, for whatever reason. The shelves had been stripped bare not two days ago, both here and in the library, the piles of books waiting to be sorted in his manor library. Harry made his way slowly around the room, touching and pushing random things in random places, muttering the entire time in Parseltongue variations of “Open!” But nothing worked. Harry finally gave up after ten minutes and left for home, bidding goodnight to Professor Snape, who was still rooting through Slytherin’s decorations.

When he returned home, he didn’t do much aside from sleep. They were finally returning to Hogwarts the next day, and the student body was needed for the interring of a founder. It should be interesting.
____________________________________

Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat on the Hogwarts Express. The train had left London more than four hours ago, and the rolling hills of Scotland passed the compartment window, as well as a great multitude of wizards and witches flying across the land on broomsticks, dipping down below the cloud cover now that they were in sparsely populated territory.

“So,” Harry said, picking a change in topic from what they were discussing—the History of Magic as led by William Chambers and the massive amount of homework he had set over the break (“Detail the entire known historical timeline of magic in the Orient”). He was moving it toward needling his friend about his dancing skills, which Harry hadn't had a chance to do yet.

“So, Hermione, how was Ron's dancing at the ball? I didn't get a chance to laugh—I mean, watch,” said Harry with a teasing smile.

“Ron was a perfectly acceptable dance partner for a boy who hadn't practiced,” Hermione said demurely, causing Ron's ears to turn pink.

“Who'd you all dance with, Ron?” asked Harry.

“Oh, uhhh, you know, Lavender and Herms here,” he said, trying to sound cool.

“And Professor Weasley,” Hermione smiled teasingly.

“Oh, come on, Hermione! That's not fair. She came out of nowhere and started crying about me growing up. It was mental!” Ron complained loudly.

“Enjoy it, Ron,” said Harry. “I wish I had a mom to embarrass me in front of my friends.”

“Mate, that's just depressing,” Ron said, causing Harry to shrug. That hadn't provided as much fun teasing as he thought it would, so Harry picked up the Daily Prophet, whose cover was plastered with several different articles and pictures, all of various sizes and importance.

“Dang, busy news day. Slytherin funeral, the last time the tomb of the four was opened. The Minister's Undersecretary retires; some lady named Umbridge has taken over the position, and some magical prison in Australia—no, Austria—was completely destroyed in a freak landslide. Seems they don't expect to find any survivors. That sucks.”

“Yes, it's all very sad. Apparently, it was a relatively new construction, and whatever organization built it didn't secure the mountain around it in stabilizer wards—only the castle itself. Or at least that's what they're guessing. If you read the article, it says there is a massive blizzard keeping all travel out of the area,” Hermione explained.

Ron shook his head to ride the daze that had formed while his two friends discussed the news. “Oh, hey, mate! Did you bring your Firebolt? No one else will stand a chance against us in Quidditch!”

“I did, actually. It’s in my trunk. You can’t shrink it; the charms won’t allow it, so I had to completely rework the organization of my expanded trunk to make room for it. But I got word from McGonagall today that, as my broom isn’t on the market, it’s against Hogwarts bylaws to allow me to play with it. So, it will just be for flying at the moment. Although I was reading the manual it came with, and apparently, they devised a new charm based on homing pigeons of all things. I guess the maker is a Muggle-born. Anyway, if I let the broom fly freely or, say, fall off during a match, the broom will return itself to the case after about five minutes of it being idle or riderless. I’ll have to see that myself next practice,” said Harry quickly, explaining with great enthusiasm for his amazing broom.

“That’s not fair! It’s a broom, Harry. You should be able to play with it,” Ron groused, sticking his lip out and crossing his arms, causing his two friends to roll their eyes at his behavior.

“Fair or not, Ron, it's against the rules, and what the headmistress says goes,” chimed in Hermione.

A knock came at the compartment’s door some ten minutes later. When Harry opened it, he was not pleased with who he saw. Draco Malfoy stood in the centre of the doorway, looking just as unsatisfied about being there as he was. As always, he was surrounded by the human boulders Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. They both had a look of unblinking idiocy about them.

“Hello, Heir Malfoy and Miststers Crabbe and Goyle. A fine day, I hope?”

The two dullards standing behind Malfoy gave a half bow and muttered something incomprehensible, but Malfoy seemed to stand taller, doing a full bow before responding. “Yes, Lord Potter, as good as a day can be when the students have such a solemn task ahead of us.”

“Quite. Might I ask you the purpose of this visit, Heir Malfoy? We are not usually on speaking terms,” asked Harry.

“My purpose here, Lord Potter, is to pass along a warning yet again. My father knows people in the Ministry, and he heard more details than were released about the events at this school." He then paused and looked over at Hermione. "You remember when we met on our first night? I told you you wouldn't want to hang around riffraff, Lord Potter. Well, I'm repeating that warning. If you continue to associate with filth, you'll be treated like filth as well when the time comes.”

Harry stood up faster than anyone around them could bring themselves to react and slugged Malfoy across the eye, blindsiding the two brutes to the skinny blondes left and right and making Draco fall back onto his rear end. Then Harry leaned over Draco, speaking softly, almost sweetly. And everyone around could hear and even feel the threatening energy in the raven-haired boy's voice. “If you look at Hermione one more time and say the word filth, I'll give you a firsthand demonstration of what went on in this school during the break. Are we clear, Draco?” And then Harry pulled Malfoy to his feet just as two prefects ran up to the crowded hallway. “Heir Malfoy, pay attention to where you're standing, won't you? Your bookends might not be there to break your fall next time you trip,” Harry said loudly as he brushed off Draco's clothes. Harry watched the Slytherins walk off and then sank into a seat and stared out the window, no longer in the mood to talk.
____________________________________

The Great Hall was still lit in the haunting, deep blue-purple-hued light that the ghostly candles gave off, still decorated with the black-and-silver tapestries. The only new additions were the four House tables and the four non-sentient moving paintings of the founders that had been placed on stands behind the bier that held Slytherin's remains. At a second glance, Harry thought their portraits weren't quite so non-sentient, as Slytherin was sitting in a chair and the other three surrounded him, offering comfort. It was quite touching, really. The outer wall was lined with non-student funeral-goers, all standing silent and waiting.

The Headmistress stood and approached the podium, raised now so she could be seen over the bier and the overly dramatic portraits.

"Good afternoon, and I would like to say a triumphant welcome back to Hogwarts. Today, we have a solemn duty—a ceremony long overdue—the interment of the last founder of Hogwarts in his rightful place among the four.

Could the seventh-year prefects and Head Students come up and act as bearers, please? Just stand in front until the signal.”

“Honorate hospite et alumnis, hic convenimus ad solvendum tributum instituti conditoris prodigio.

Pater tuus apud te requiescit, Hogvartensis, et rogamus ut magnum aperias sepulcrum et apud te requiescam, maximum opus et honorem vitae eius invenias.” The headmistress raised her hands to the ceiling and called out this long, complex line of Latin. And the ground shook and shifted. The head table floated up into the air, and the people who were there quickly descended to the main floor as the dais that held the head table began to sink and the bier that held Slytherin, held by the seventh-year prefects, descended as well. As the stone platform it rested on sank down, it slowly formed a grand, sweeping staircase that started to descend three feet after the house tables ended and continued to descend well past the wall of the Great Hall. Ancient torches lit the way down a passageway that was wide enough for four people to walk abreast. Harry could see that the passage made a gentle turn in its descent further in.

With the headmistress leading the way, holding a torch out in front of her, and the litter and casket bearers behind her, the students began to descend into the bowels of the castle. Down and down, on and on. Harry walked with Hermione behind him for what felt like an hour until they came upon a large room. Ancient and dedicated gifts to the previous founders littered the ground around three of the stone coffins, and the instruction to bring a small keepsake suddenly made sense. Hermione, having the good sense she always possessed, had brought a copy of Hogwarts: A History. Harry, with Hermione’s insistence that it was a good idea, had brought two things: a magically rendered statue of Smara and a book found in Slytherin’s Scriptorium that appeared to be a journal. Ron had brought the man’s chocolate frog card.

After the bearers lowered the ancient remains into their final resting place, the students were bidden to start placing the gifts on and around the coffin. Harry, with Smara on his shoulders, and Hermione, as they were the only students to have anything to do with the founders' discovery, were allowed to place their gifts first. And so, Harry placed his book on the stone tomb and placed the statue of Smara on top of that. Hermione placed her book at the foot of the casket. Only for Harry to pick it back up and place it where the man's arms would rest. Many flashes and clicks filled the chamber while they did this from the multiple national and international reporters.

To even more flashes, the two second years bowed deeply and low to the newly interred founder. As they stepped back, the multitude of gifts came first from Slytherin House, and then the other houses, and then students of the past who had graduated, until his mass of gifts matched the other founders. After the headmistress said the traditional "requiescat in pace” the masses left the tomb, and it was sealed without any sign that it had been there when the last person left. A feast was held in Slytherin's honor, and it filled the rest of the day—a glorious send-off for a man with a legend more than a millennia long.

That night, for the first time since Andy took over as steward, Harry sent a business letter as Lord Potter to Lord Malfoy. In this letter, he detailed his heir's rude behavior and the consequences thereof, as well as the consequences for Lord Malfoy should he not find a way to rein in his child's tongue. With Hedwig on the way to deliver his letter, he got dressed for bed. Ron and his other year mates were already asleep, so he fell into his four-poster and was asleep in minutes.

____________________________________

The next morning, Harry woke up earlier than almost anyone else and decided to get some breakfast. That's how he found himself in an almost-abandoned Great Hall, eating his chosen breakfast: a rare American addition called "country ham" with eggs and hash browns—a breakfast favoured by their History of Magic professor, William Chambers. Harry had fallen in love with this new form of ham the moment he tried it. Ham was always delicious, but country ham was on another level.

While he was eating, he decided to challenge himself and see if he could throw together Hermione's preferred breakfast from memory. He was sure that it was porridge with six blueberries, four raspberries, eight strawberry slices, and three tablespoons of honey. He was rewarded when Hermione came down, dragging a delirious Ron behind her. She froze mid-step at her usual seat, staring at the prepared bowl. Harry felt rewarded when she only picked out the raspberries and pulled out a small side of bacon while thanking Harry for making her breakfast.

"What's up, mate? Couldn't make my plate too?" asked Ron.

“Like anyone is smart enough to predict what you’re going to throw down that open pit you call a stomach, Ron.” Chided Harry with a smile, causing the red-head to laugh while he piled his plate high with enough salt-cured meat to kill a tiger.

“So, Lockhart’s our first stop today, right? Can’t say I’ve missed his classes,” said Ron.

“Oh, don’t! He’s been way better since he was put under observation. And I’ve heard that the school acquired new books for us to replace or maybe supplement his books and stories,” groused Hermione, who seemed to take it as a personal insult that anyone would even hint that a professor is not one hundred percent qualified.

“As long as he doesn't try to cast any spells. Remember my arm? Theory is all well and good—he seems to know at least what he talks about—but every time I've seen him in practice, it's been a disaster.” said Harry, cutting between his two friends. Not even Hermione had a retort to that. They hung around for a while to see if McGonagall had a speech planned, but it was back to business as usual, and they went off to class.

Defense against the Dark Arts was surprisingly informative as well as interesting. They were doing an entire unit on magical plants with dark natures and how to defend against them.

“Here, class, I have perfectly dead—and thus safe—specimens of several species of dark plants. These plants generally inhabit caves or the thickest of rainforests—places that are dark and wet. Except the last one there, under the cloche—nasty little blighter, it is—will only grow on a battlefield no more than five years old, but the fresher the better in its case.” In front of the glass, there were four clear glass cloches and one opaque black one.

“Raise your hand if you think you can identify the four you can see, but of course, Miss Granger can!” he said in response to Hermione shoving her hand up first. “And I have no doubt, but let's see if any of your classmates can have a go, and if not, we'll come back to you. Now, Mister Longbottom, how about you come up and take a look, have a go.” Lockhart said, flashing all of his pearly white teeth.

“A-a-alright,” said Neville nervously as he strode up to take a closer look at the dead plants. “Well, that's a Venomous Tentacula,” he said, pointing to the second cloche. “And that's Devil's Snare, it's a knot of thorny vines. I'm not sure what the third one is, it looks tropical though. And the fourth one is boostrap, it grows alongside smaller growths of Devil's Snare. They work in conjunction to catch prey in their sapling stages, but boostrap eventually grows away from Devil's Snare and climbs towards the light where it becomes the elf ear vine.”

“Very good, Mister Longbottom. Take five points for each correct answer. Would anyone else like to guess at number three? No? Well then, Miss Granger, if you would.

“The third specimen is a tropical carnivorous plant from Brazil called “mixtecomac ohuican,” which means “dark and gloomy thing.” It is technically a tropical tree, but it's also an epiphyte. It grows on other plants and can even mimic the appearance of its host. It hunts by raising its roots and tripping its prey, only to drag its victim underground,” Hermione explained, adopting her lecture voice as Harry called it in his head.

“Very good, Miss Granger. Take 10 points for Gryffindor for the detailed explanation. Yes, “mixtecomac ohuican”, or known to the Spanish conquistadors as the “grave filler” for the behavior that Miss Granger explained. This plant, when it's alive, is the most dangerous plant known to magic. Aside from that one.” And here Lockhart points to the black cloche. “It's also the only species I have here today that is alive. It has been sitting under that cloche for a few hours now, soaking up a liter of blood I supplied it with. And I'm going to, with my observers' assistance, demonstrate just why this plant is so dangerous. It will be quick, so watch carefully.” And he picked up the cloche and immediately cast Incendio at the interior of the cloche for a few seconds before putting it down.

On the plate that had been covered until now sat a clearly dead guinea pig sitting on a blanket of white powder. But only a few seconds of exposure to the sunlight turned the white powder green, and then sprouted blue mushrooms, and the rodent moved. It didn't stand so much as it moved its stiff limbs in a way that facilitated movement, and several purple horns of fungus started to sprout from the guinea pig. That was when Lockhart slammed the cloche on the rodent, and he and the Ministry observer put their wands slightly under it and cast white-hot flames underneath the cloche for a full minute, and then cast cleaning and vanishing charms in the air and on the surfaces around the cloche.

“That, class, is the fungus of Hades, the mold of the dead, and in modern times, the zombie mushroom. It is the only cordyceps mushroom that can affect humans. It likes battlefields because the mycelium can survive off blood for years and lie in wait under the armor of decaying bodies, only to activate when a scavenger comes around and moves the armor or body or whatever it’s hiding under and exposes its rapid growth to the sun. Long has the wizarding world inoculated against this fungus’ effects, and it doesn’t cause harm to muggles as they don’t have a magical core to feed on. But let this be a lesson in your future classes and life. Don't go flipping over things if you don't know what's underneath.”

Things continued like that; the students quickly fell into a routine of classes, studying, and extracurricular activities like duelling club and Quidditch. In fact, Harry had a lot of Quidditch practice; Wood was determined to make up for lost time. And the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match was scheduled for the weekend after next.
____________________________________

“Go Harry, Oliver has been staring at you for three minutes now. It’s starting to get creepy,” said Hermione.

“I know,” Harry tittered. “Getting Wood’s dander up is good for him. And he won’t get on me as long as I’m eating. But I suppose you’re right, I should get going. See you after the match.” And Harry walked away to join the rest of the team in the entrance hall. As he walked past the house tables, two voices called out from the Slytherin table and one from the Gryffindor table.

“Good luck, Harry!” called the joined voices of Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis and Hermione. He held his hand over his head to signal his thanks and exited the Great Hall with the twins teasing him the entire way down to the changing room.

In the locker room after the team changed into their quidditch gear, Wood pulled them all together for one of his legendary speeches.

“All right, you lot, I want your best out there. This is sure to be a nice, even match. Just because the Claws are a bunch of nerds doesn’t mean that they are slouches on their brooms. Now, come on, and we can get a feel for conditions.” And the team collected their Gryffindor-themed Nimbus 2000s and entered the pitch. It was a bright, sunny, and clear day with no winter winds to blow them off course.

“Well, we want to play against the sun if we win the toss-up, Angelina. I'm trusting you there; you're our best riser.

Potter, they'll be fielding a new seeker this game: Cho Chang. I don't know much about her, so be prepared for anything.

Fred, George, you do your stuff out there, yeah? No mercy is to be offered or accepted, and that goes for everyone.”

They left the pitch and returned to the changing area and waited. It only took five minutes for the multitude of feet marching into the stands to be heard by the team, and they made their way onto the ramp to enter at Lee Jordan's call.

“Good morning, students and faculty, to the first Quidditch match of nineteen ninety-three! We're in for quite a show today. We have Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw. On the side of the Eagles, we have Roger Davies returning as Captain and Chaser, Brent Bradley, Summer Chambers as Chasers, Adam Ogden, Chad Druin as Beaters, and Emile Boot playing Keeper, and a new wildcard, Cho Chang, playing Seeker.

And on the amazing Gryffindor team, we have Oliver Wood as Keeper and Captain, Angelina Johnson, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet as Chasers, Fred and George Weasley, the twin terrors on Beaters, and the legend himself, Lord Harry Potter, on Seeker.” As the teams' names were called, they walked off the ramp and stood in front of their counterparts on the Ravenclaw team. Cho flashed her eyebrows at him and gave a shy smile.

Harry scowled.

“Now!” bellowed Madam Hooch. “I want a good, clean match! Captains, shake hands! Mount your brooms!” She blew her whistle and kicked open the crate containing the four Quidditch balls. Harry was second in the air, following Angelina, but was immediately followed by Roger Davies and the other members of the team. Despite her early rise, Angelina picked a poor angle, and Roger looked ready to pluck the Quaffle from the sky, but Harry had other plans for that. He turned his broom to intersect the Ravenclaw’s flight path and batted the Quaffle away with the twig ends of his broom as he performed a perfect corkscrew turn and shot upwards into the sky. Harry was rewarded with, “Gryffindor in possession as Alicia Spinner catches the Quaffle!” coming from Lee Jordan.

But then, Harry tuned out the commentary to focus on his job. Instead of focusing on her job, Cho Chang seemed to be trying to catch his attention.

“Hey, Potter, when you lose the match, want me to console you in a broom closet?”
“Hey, Chang, when I catch the snitch, you want to hold it so you'll know at least how one feels!” called Harry back before flipping upside-down on his broom, hanging on by one hand, and doing a taunting salute to the rival seeker before diving straight down, down, down, only leveling off five feet from the wooden latticework that supported the viewing stands. There he continued at that level and started his search pattern. Cho, though, did not pull out of the dive in time and actually dove straight into the wooden undercroft of the Quidditch pitch. She emerged shaking her purpling fingers only twenty feet later and calling for a time-out.

Wood gave him a nod of support, and Harry continued to search for the Snitch while she got her fingers healed by her Captain. It seemed to take a couple of times.

It was a good match, as both teams scored, but Gryffindor always kept a close lead on their indigo-clad opponents. And Harry had very little luck in finding the Snitch. Twice now, he'd thought he'd seen it. Once was like reflecting off a Slytherin 7th year's watch. And the other, Harry suspected, was the Snitch, but Cho had fouled him by deliberately colliding with him outside of a chase, and it disappeared. Still, Harry wasn't worried; Gryffindor was 40 points up.

"Potter! Hey, POTTER!" yelled Cho.
"If you give up the Snitch, I'll let you kiss me! That's what all you little boys want, right?”

“The only thing I want to kiss is the Quidditch Cup, so—” There was the Snitch, buzzing about a foot above her head. ‘How did she not hear that?’ Harry wondered. But Harry did something both very foolhardy and very brave. Harry brought both his legs up and jumped clear onto Cho’s broom, splaying his legs across the whole of the handle like he was walking a tightrope and snatching the Golden Ball almost out of her hair. Cho, for her part, screamed as he landed over her and screamed once more as she saw what he had done. The two had been circling high above the pitch, almost 150 feet up, and Harry’s landing had shot them up even higher. Harry saw his Nimbus 2000 hovering still but slowly sinking. So, taking careful pains, he jumped back onto his broom, falling almost 30 feet to land on the broom that limply went into a free fall. The entire stands were screaming at the rate of acceleration, and Harry leveled off at the perfect moment to be able to dismount his broom on the run and hold his arm up in the air, confirming his victory. The final score was 240 points to 50.

Hermione, when she reached him, hugged him tightly.

And then decked him.

“Don't you ever do something that scary and stupid and pointless ever again! I almost had a heart attack!” she yelled at him.

“Miss Granger! I will decline to deduct points for your actions just this once, and only because I agree with you so completely. Mister Potter, if you ever do a move so dangerous without cause again, I will fill your shoes with so much lead you'll never be able to walk again, let alone fly! Do I make myself clear!”

“Yes, Headmistress. Hermione, I'm sorry,” Harry said, sounding chastened.

“No, you're not,” they said, mirroring each other, causing him to grin.

Chapter Text

Harry sat in an empty classroom on a late Sunday afternoon in late March. He was currently putting the finishing touches on his Transfiguration essay on the distinction between cross-elemental and trans-elemental transfiguration. Being a week ahead of his coursework, he had time to reflect on his time, and he realized that these past two months had been his most regular, almost normal schooling experience since he joined the wizarding world. He'd gone to classes and learned very interesting things, he'd competed in Quidditch games and practices, he'd studied and worked with his friends. It was all so fantastically normal, he could even ALMOST overlook the six times he had now woken up from dark and creeping nightmares, or the three times on top of that where he had been so deep in the throes of vivid panic-fueled hallucinations that he had been held down by his mates until someone could retrieve Professor Weasley.

The most recent of those episodes had been just that morning, not even his head of house could get him to calm down.

“AHHHHHH!” Harry screamed. So much visceral terror filled his bones that his magic flung itself at everyone and everything around him in perceived self-defense.

“No! No! No! Not Bill, I have–” Harry shouted incoherently. This seemed to affect missus Weasley, who had pulled back from her efforts to get to Harry. Several upperclassmen started to send red bolts at Harry once their head of house had pulled back and no longer stopped them, but nothing connected. Harry was fighting an unconscious battle, and what he didn't dodge, his magic would fling something in the way and block the attack.

“Hermione!” said Ron. They all looked at him bewildered.

“Look, Ron, fancy the girl all you want, but it's not the time to–” said Percy before Ron interrupted him.

“No! You idiot, go get her! She can calm him down. She's told me she's done it before.” And with barely a backward glance, Professor Weasley all but ran down the stairs and returned no more than two minutes later with Hermione, who, to her credit, did not hesitate in walking straight into the flinging maelstrom that was a panicked Harry Potter.

“Hermione, wait! You can't just barge in like that, he might–” said Molly before the second year cut her off with a smile.

“Don't worry, missus Weasley, Harry would never harm me.” And true to her word, she did what no one else could and strode straight up to Harry. She wrapped him in a hug and whispered in his ear for a minute before another red flash came from her wand that was pointed at his back. At once, Harry went limp, and she guided him to the ground so he wouldn't get hurt. She backed away and watched Harry as missus Weasley and a few prefects checked him over and started fixing the room back to rights.

“What could have set him off like that? I know the lad suffers from nightmares, but I've never seen him quite that bad before.” The leader of the lions whispered in fear of waking the gryphon in their midst.

“Most likely something happened and it redoubled his nightmares, and his fight or flight response went into overdrive.” Everyone around Hermione stared at her. “Honestly? Doesn't anyone read psychology? Something happened—something he read or saw scared him and put his subconscious into self-preservation mode. We won't know until we ask, and knowing Harry, that won't be for a while after this. If he even talks to anyone. I know he's been writing to Tonks about his nightmares, but this—” Hermione finished hesitantly.

“Well I suppose the best thing for everyone is to go back to bed, it's still very early. Thank you everyone for your assistance.” Missus Weasley calls out to the prefects while levitating Harry back to his bed.

Harry had been called to the headmistress's office and offered special counseling, which he refused, saying that his letters to Tonks would help him far more than a stranger ever could. After that meeting was when he decided to pour himself into his homework, completely redoing his entire week's assignments and going around to his classes and asking for something extra. Most teachers were understanding of his desire for a distraction, and even Snape had a goal for him, even if it wasn't extra work.

"No, Potter, I won't give you extra work. If you want to learn extra potions, do it on your own. But, Potter, I find myself curious as to the effects of that potion you brewed during the winter holidays."

That had sent Harry's mind reeling. Professor Snape had all but given him permission to prank the school, something the twins hadn't even managed to do yet. It would require serious thought. Harry decided to leave his hideaway and go for a walk around the school before dinner, and he was very surprised to see Luna Lovegood skipping down the seventh-floor corridor.

“Hello, Luna,” Harry called to the girl, causing her to stop and turn her eyes onto Harry. Luna’s eyes, Harry had learned, were very protuberant and, according to Ginny, normally an icy blue. However, after the ritual, they had turned scarlet, as if blood was flooding her irises. While unnerving, the headmistress had assured the student body that Luna was perfectly healthy and had shown no signs of any dark magic contamination outside of what was normal for the experience she went through.

“Hello, Harry. Are you doing better now? I saw you in my dreams fighting the Nargles away,” said Luna in a spacey voice.

“Errr, yeah, I’m fine. How are you, and what are you doing up here?” asked Harry.

“Oooh, I’m fiiine. A bit tired, you know. But Madam Pomfrey tells me it’s normal. My magical core still hasn’t completely healed from the ordeal over Christmas. And I am up here contemplating the answer to the riddle to get into Ravenclaw Tower.”

“Riddle? What? No password?” asked Harry.

“Noooo, don't be silly, you have to answer a question to get in.”

“What if you don't know the answer?”

At this, she shrugged. “You either figure it out or wait until someone else comes along who can. That way, you learn. It's normally an academic question, but I think the door thinks I'll know everything, as it's started asking me rather philosophical questions and riddles lately, and this latest one has me stumped.”

“Well, I'm not great at riddles, but I can take a crack at it,” offered Harry with a smile, glad to see the first-year girl had recovered from the last time he'd spoken to her broken form in the hospital wing.

“I am neither a guest nor a trespasser; in this place, I belong, that belongs also to me. Of what do I speak?” the blonde girl intoned.

Harry blinked a few times, mulling it over in his head. “It couldn't be ‘home,’ could it? You're not a guest or a trespasser in your home, and you belong in your home even if you don't necessarily own it.”

The girl blinked owlishly. “That could very well work, Harry Potter. Thank you. I have been needing to get into the door for three hours now.” And she turned around and skipped off without a second glance.

‘Guess I'll ask her about it later at dinner’ as he continued his own trek through the castle. As he continued to aimlessly wander in the general direction of the Great Hall he came to pass the library and to his surprise Hermione exited the door just as he approached.

“Oh Harry! There you are, Ron and I were looking for you earlier.” She said happy to see him.

“Yea sorry, I just needed some time alone. I was redoing all my homework.” said Harry, both second years falling into step beside each other as they walked down for dinner.

“Would you like me to go over it for you?” asked Hermione.

“What? And have you copy all my hard-found research? No thanks, you'll have to earn the top spot yourself, thank you.” Said Harry, laughing at the indignant look on his friend's face.

“I would never cheat! If your information was any good, I'd go find your reference material and form my own thoughts. Thank you.” His friend responded vehemently.

“And I'll still win the first spot in class rankings.”

“And why is that, Harry? Because I'm a girl and thus not as capable?”

“No! It's because I'm just better than you! Not because you're a girl.” Laughed Harry.

“Oooooh, you—well, we'll see just who gets the top spot this year. I think I have a good chance of beating you since Defense Against the Dark Arts has been so…. academic this year.

“Ooooh, I know what you mean. Although this last unit on dark plants has been rather fascinating. Learning the environmental factors that allow things like the creeping swatter or trees like the Whomping Willows to grow is neat.”

“I agree,” Hermione said happily as Harry opened the door to the Great Hall and then moved across the hall, ready for dinner. They found and sat around Ron, who was displaying his normal disdain for table manners.

Things at Hogwarts continued in their monotonous routine, but that did not mean things were boring. Harry was competing against Hermione, Daphne, and three Ravenclaws for the prize of number one student. Harry was receiving more mail in his position as Lord Potter. And Harry even managed to find a new pen pal in Mister Necalli Chemalli, who had started writing to Harry to discuss the “true” meaning behind being a Parselmouth, which was a sacred ability in his culture.

This was one bit of correspondence he always looked forward to, ever since the first one arrived just two weeks after the start of term.

“Lord Potter,

I am Senior Necalli Chemalli, the jaguar mage from the school's chamber, and a fellow Parselmouth. I hope you don't mind me writing to you without permission, but I find myself compelled to fulfill a duty.

I wish to write to you and teach you the true meaning behind our abilities as speakers of the true voice. I can teach you exactly what we can do, what you can learn, and how to act when in the presence of a true serpent so you don't get bitten.

If you are amenable, please write back, and I will start your instruction. It will take a while between letters, as international letters take about a week to reach where I live.

I hope to receive your letter soon,
Necalli Chemalli “

Already, Harry had learned about the proper structure of the Parseltongue language and how to augment the language to speak to a wider variety of serpents. Non-magical snakes can't speak at all but can understand and will take orders from any speaker. While magical snakes like the Ashwinder can speak back to various degrees of intelligence to you, they have a higher level of resistance. "Royal" serpents like the Basilisk, the Quetzalcoatl, or the winged serpents, as the English call them, can talk back and have human or even beyond-human intelligence.

Mr. Chamalli warned that basilisks are a two-sided coin. While female basilisks are calm, albeit fierce in attitude and personality, male basilisks are completely mad. They speak only of death, domination, and devouring their prey, and not even the most powerful Parselmouth would be able to communicate with them. It made him appreciate Smara even more. When his Mexican pen pal was not teaching him, he was reading the books from Slytherin's library. The first time he tried this, Hermione was in front of him, and it frightened her immensely.

"AHHHHH!" Hermione shrieked and knocked her chair over to get away from Harry.

Harry threw the book aside and rushed to help his friend, who was breathing heavily on the ground. "What? What's wrong? What did I do? I was just reading.”

“Yes, Harry, you were just reading. Unfortunately, when you started reading in Parseltongue, your eyes—your eyes changed into a snake's eyes, no whites, glowing an acid green with a long, slender pupil bisecting each eye from lid to lid. Ooooh, it was a horrible surprise,” Hermione panted out.

After that, Harry made sure to hide his face completely behind the books as he read so he wouldn't scare his housemates. Mister Chamalli said that it was a natural reaction to reading Parseltongue and not to worry about it.

The transformative aspects of Parsel magic gave Harry an idea for later in his Hogwarts career when he was no longer forbidden from studying human transfiguration. Figuring out how that works at an unconscious and untrained level would be an amazing accomplishment. Both McGonagall and Missus Weasley agreed and asked that when he started his experiments, they be able to assist in some way.

____________________________________

Time moved on quickly for Harry and the rest of Hogwarts. March turned to February, which turned into April, with the only things to break the routine being Lockhart's horrendous method of celebrating Valentine's Day and the feast tonight to celebrate the start of the spring vacation.

Valentine's Day had started with the three friends making their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. No one expected anything, as Valentine's Day was not normally celebrated as a whole by the school, usually just couples. So it came as a surprise when they came in to find the Great Hall bedecked with heaps of glitter, displays of flying Cupid arrows, and real cherubs flying around, strumming on harps and singing in soft voices. The walls of the Great Hall were lined with about 40 surly-looking dwarves dressed like bright pink mailmen.

Everyone hung around after breakfast to see if there would be an explanation for the dwarves who all looked like they were deeply regretting their life choices at the moment. And they weren't disappointed as Lockhart himself stood up.

“Hello everyone, can you all hear me? Can you all see me?

Most excellent.
As you have no doubt noticed, it is February fourteenth, which happens to be my favorite holiday of the year. And I would like to thank the thirty-three people who sent me a card.

I figured I'd ask the headmistress if we could break slightly from tradition and acknowledge Valentine's Day; so in the spirit of the day, there will be cherubs flying around and they are allowed to randomly pick students and have them sing love sonnets and poems. As well, most of the teachers have agreed to teach something on the theme of the day. And finally, as you may have noticed, I have hired a troupe of card-carrying cupids. For a small fee, they will hand-deliver cards and treats. There is a stand just outside the Great Hall that will sell cards and candies for you to send, and for a higher but still reasonable fee, they will deliver a singing valentine to the person of your choice. That will be all for now. I suggest you all get to your classes.”

What followed was a mix of embarrassment and hilarity from students including Ron getting struck with an arrow and breaking out in song at the nearest girl. Ron was unfortunate enough to sing a love song to Millicent Bulstrode, a Slytherin from their year who had the unfortunate build of a professional rugby player and had a matching temperament. The fact that Ron seemed to be particularly affected by the cherub's magic had the skinny, lanky boy grab hold of the stout Slytherin and twirl and dip her as he finished his poem, which made it even more hilarious to those around him. Ron wasn't seen the rest of the day, but Harry was approached by Millicent some hours later with a card and thank-you note for Ron that he promised to pass on.

Harry was doing his best to ignore the whole thing until he was rather unceremoniously pulled into a hidden alcove. "So, Potter," the girl spoke, "what are you getting for your friends, Granger and Daphne?”

“Err, I wasn't planning to—”

“Eh-eh, wrong answer. You’re going to go and get Granger a nice card and write a nice handwritten note that you’re going to give to her. And Daphne, you’re going to get her the deluxe box of chocolates and a card for delivery.”

“Shouldn't I get Hermione the chocolates too? Won't she feel left out if she finds out I got them for Daphne?”

“That’s up to you, but I’ve never seen her eat dessert.”

“She does… hmm, maybe a small box then. Why do you care so much?”

“Because, you dolt, romantic or not, you mean a lot to my friends, and I’ve quickly taken Hermione in as a friend as well. And I know they would both appreciate the gesture. Now, go and get it.”

That saw Harry scramble to go down to the table set up to buy Honeydukes chocolates and specially enchanted cards. It also saw him fret and worry about finding two that were different and not at all romantic, which was a bust, so he settled on a card and chocolate set for Hermione. The card was enchanted to spit out confetti every minute or so and was mildly romantic. And a card and large chocolate set for Daphne. This card did not shoot confetti and was even less romantic, more like a very sweet thank-you card than anything. A hastily scribbled note about how much the two girls meant to him and apologizing for his terrible Valentine's practice, with a promise to do better in the future.

Harry ended up giving the cards to both girls himself as, just as he was about to pay for delivery, a dwarf bustled up to Harry.

"Ahem. I have a musical note here for Harry Potter," the dwarf said in a gruff tone. Harry looked around, looking for a way out, but as he lifted his feet from the ground, he realized his shoes were stuck to the floor.

"His eyes are as green as a fresh-pickled toad.
His hair is as dark as a blackboard.
He's really divine! I wish he were mine!
The hero that conquered the Dark Lord!"

Harry's feet came unstuck, and he fell forward onto his knees, beet red in embarrassment.

"I don't think Potter liked your Valentine, Weasley!" drawled Malfoy loudly to the crowd.

Harry looked at the tearful, pale face of Ginny Weasley, and he knew he couldn't let Malfoy get away with that comment, no matter how bad that poem was.

“Funny, Malfoy! All these messengers going around and I haven't seen one give any to you!

Ginny's poem might not have been the best, but it's miles better than anything you've gotten so far!” Harry called back. “Thanks for the card, Ginny,” said Harry after he had walked up to the troubled first year.

“What do I need people writing me dumb love poems for? I'm popular enough not to broadcast it for—” said Malfoy, being cut off by the twins.

“Yeah, yeah, alright, Malfoy, get a move on,” said Fred, pushing the second-year Ponce down the hallway.

“Thanks, Harry. Maybe limericks aren't my thing. Who are those for?” Asked Ginny.

“Oh, uh, Hermione and Daphne Greengrass. She's in Slytherin; I don't know if you've met her yet.”

“The Ice Queen? I know of her at the very least. I saw you dancing with her at your party. I didn't know you were actual friends, though.”

“We are. We study together sometimes.”

After that, hand-delivering his gifts wasn't such an embarrassment, except for having to ask Snape to open the door to the Slytherin common room. Harry had received a kiss on the cheek for his trouble, and a cackling Tracey Davis almost immediately confiscated Daphne's chocolate, cackling over her victory.
Hermione gave him a tearful hug in thanks for her first-ever Valentine's Day card, and she also gave Harry a kiss on the cheek.

Now, several weeks later, Harry had been a very busy boy, planning and plotting a very special event. Harry and his friends sat for the feast to celebrate everyone going off for spring break. And just as everyone put their goblets down from drinking the ceremonial toast of fair fortune, a bit of parchment appeared on the plate of everyone in the hall, the colors listed as different emotions.

"What's this?" asked Hermione as she picked up the paper in front of her.

Blue - happy
Red - angry
Violet - confused
Orange - hungry
Green - envious
Yellow - satisfied
Indigo - sad
Black - murderous
White - neutral

On the back of the card was a paw print stamp inside a recent moon encircled by a rat with large antlers decorating the top of the print. The calling card of “the marauders”, his father‘s school boy gang who spent most of their time pranking various parts of the school's population. Harry had found the symbol while going through his father's old school things in Blackstone Manor.

Chattering filled the hall as people asked variations of Hermione's question. But suddenly they all went quite silent as the hair of everyone in the Great Hall started to change color. There were at first many people with white, blue, or orange hair, those three being the most common varieties. But the Weasley twins started as yellow, matching with Katie and Angelina across from them. But then their yellow locks changed to vivid violet, and then swiftly to a green that would make acid jealous.

All around the hall, people pointed and laughed at their friends as they translated the color code in front of them. Particular focus was put onto the people with yellow hair. Harry somewhat understood what "satisfied" meant but didn't have the correct knowledge base to work from. Hermione's hair was a constant, fluid mix of blue, violet, green, and yellow, oddly enough.

"What could you possibly be satisfied about, Hermione?" asked Harry in confusion.

“Oh well, you know this is a good prank. Fred and George did really well. I don't have to approve of something to appreciate it. And what are you so satisfied about, Harry? Your hair hasn't shifted at all.”

“A prank well done, Hermione. I think my father would be very proud,” said Harry.

“Wait, this is you? I swear this is something Fred and George would think up,” said Ron, whose hair had stayed staunchly orange the entire time. It was then that the headmistress stood up, displaying a most frightening display of violet, red, and black.

“I see that the grand Hogwarts tradition of pranking has remained intact despite me going to great lengths to curb the practice.

Be warned that if I ever get evidence of who the extremely foolish person who did this is, they will be at the very least suspended from this school.” At this, the headmistress turned her eyes straight to Harry and winked. Harry quickly averted his eyes and found Snape, whose yellow hair was almost as frightening as the headmistress's black, but Harry could guess that the yellow was more for the successful deployment of Harry's extremely finicky project than anything that Harry would rather not think about.
____________________________________

“She knew it was me!” Harry said as he fled the great hall after the feast. “Maybe I shouldn't have included that calling card from my dad.”

“No Harry, that was probably more than a little foolhardy. Professor McGonagall taught your dad and his friends, didn't she?” Said Hermione as she followed him at pace. Not that it mattered as-

“Mister Potter, a word please!” The headmistress shouted. And Harry didn't say anything to her but walked up, ready to face the music.

“Has Sirius Black been released from his hospital ward?”

“No headmistress. I don't believe so.”

“Has Remus Lupin finally come back to Britain?

“Who ma'am?”

“Remus Lupin, another friend of your father. And I doubt Peter Petigrew is out running around from wherever he decided to hide.”

“Errr, no ma'am.”

“Well then, I find it quite interesting that that particular symbol has appeared so long after its designers left this school. Perhaps Peeves is feeling nostalgic tonight.
Good night, Mister Potter.”

“Good night, Headmistress,” Harry said with a shiver.

“How did you do it!” was the first thing he heard from the Weasley twins when he first got back to Gryffindor Tower.

“Sorry, guys, I’m not telling. Family recipe.”

The twins hung their heads in their normal theatrics. “Well, look, we didn’t know your dad was a Marauder?”

“Err, yeah, him and some friends from school.”

“Right, see, we were recently in a spot of trouble with Filch, and we were in his office, and he was threatening us with, you know.”

“The usual.”

“Detention.”

“Disarming.”

“Disembowelment.”

“You know, the regular threats. And that’s when we noticed, on one of his bottom drawers, a label.”

“Confiscated and highly dangerous.”

“And we found this.” He held up a manky old bit of parchment. “Now, we can’t tell you what this is,”

“Yet.”

“But when you try to open it, it won’t unfold past one fold. And when you put some magic into it, like a revealing spell. Well, watch this,” said George, completing their head-thundering conglomerate that the twins call speech.

“Revelio” said Fred, casting at the parchment. But nothing happened for a few seconds — until the same symbol that Harry had just put on display for the Great Hall appeared out of the ink lots now maring the surface of the parchment.

“ We‘re going to keep working on this over the spring holidays but we were wondering if you could go through your dad's old school things, see if they mention anything about a square bit of parchment or Filch nicking something off of him or his friends.”

“Yeah, I can do that. No problem, I'll owl you if I find anything." After that, Harry chose to sit on the couch next to the fire, which was lit to warm the cool spring nights. A familiar weight settled next to him and then leaned against him with practiced ease.

"I hope you brought me a book if you're going to use me as a backrest," Harry said. Hermione laughed, and a small paperback filled Harry's vision.

"Lord of the Rings. Well, if you insist, this guy's writing is worse than watching plants grow," said Harry, smirking.

"Well, if you don't like my choice in literature, then you should remember to bring your own book next time." Hermione then wiggled her back, digging in deeper, and Harry fit his arm around the girl. And they spent the time before bed reading in companionable silence..

____________________________________

The next night found Harry enjoying a family dinner with the Grangers and the Weasleys as added guests. Everyone was loud and boisterous, telling stories of their time apart since going back to Hogwarts. Bill Weasley was just recounting his most recent haul of treasure from an Egyptian tomb when a fiery explosion seemed to fill the air. No one was hurt, but everyone had their faces covered to protect from the perceived but nonexistent heat. At the point in the air where the explosion had occurred over the table now sat a magnificent golden bird whose feathers appeared to be made of fire. It carried a large, square object in its beak. All the adults were pointing their wands at it. It thrilled out a soft, sad song that filled Harry's mind with warmth. Then it hopped along the table and deposited its package in front of Harry before another gout of fire roared from its body, and the bird was gone.

Bill stood and scanned the package before touching it. "No magic," he said before unwrapping it. It revealed a white sign that said two words:

"Privet Drive.”

Harry went stiff, he had not thought about his relatives since he started his new life. Despite how they treated him he didn't want them to come to harm. He looked up at Bill, at Andromeda, at Arthur and Molly Weasley, with wide fearful eyes.

“Go!” said Harry breathlessly. Ted and Andromeda grabbed Bill, Arthur, and Molly, and with a twist, they were gone. What followed was well over three hours of the worst waiting in Harry's life. Eventually, Hermione had been so fed up with his pacing that she pulled him down onto a couch and sat on him, only to be dog-piled by the twins a moment later.

After three hours, everyone popped back in, looking no worse for wear, maybe a bit tired.

“Everyone and everything is fine. Your aunt, uncle, and cousin are perfectly okay. Their memories and minds are their own, and there was no sign of distress other than having a bunch of people they don't trust pointing wands at them, which I think we can all agree is a fine excuse to raise your dander a bit,” said Arthur, cleaning his glasses. “We took the liberty to call the peacekeepers and notify them of the threat, and they pulled in an emergency ward team to put protections on your relatives' house, including an emergency Portkey that will deposit them in the Ministry atrium if need be.”

“I don't like this,” interjected Bill. “That was Dumbledore's bird. He wouldn't do this without a reason.”

“It's possible that he was simply seeing who Harry had protecting him,” replied Arthur. “He will need a guard….”

“No I won't, Dumbledore might have gone insane but he won't attack me in public — not after last time. I'm certain he's still smart enough to learn from his mistakes.“

“Yes, I'm certain you are correct. This week, Harry, we will be practicing your dueling skills, and when you get back to Hogwarts, I'll talk to Professor Chambers about putting you in a more challenging course in the dueling club.“

With so much to look forward to, Harry and Andromeda got to work putting together a timetable for the week of Harry's various lessons, meetings, hobbies, free time, and, of course, cataloging Slytherin's books into a miniature library that Andromeda had built in Lord Potter's office. The books were mainly highly advanced arithmetic calculations encoded in Parseltongue in a bid to hide their true purpose. Neither Harry nor Andromeda knew enough about Arithmancy to understand just what it was that Slytherin was doing or attempting to do. At least twelve books so far were slight variations of the same calculation stream, with what Harry suspected was the last book having a comment on something working and defending the "construction" against a massive "fyrd," which Andromeda told him was a type of peasant army.

Throughout the spring break, Harry also met with several notable people in magical society: Cyrus Greengrass, Theodore Nott, and Augusta Longbottom to discuss the coming planting season, what buyers were looking for, what plants held a surplus in the market, and what rare ingredients people were looking for in and outside of the UK. He also met with the director of St Mungo's who was looking to secure a donation. And Harry found the time to go to Gringotts and start exploring his vaults .

The aptly named “money” vault was a visual representation of the word affluence. It was organized into two open and extended chests with a near constant stream of gold, silver, and bronze coins materializing above the chests and dropping into the gaping maw inside each magical compartment as the magic of the bank worked to move around the near constant stream of subtractions and additions to the Potter family coffers.

The family vault was far more grand in Harry’s opinion and a gross display of opulence. If Harry hadn’t known the collection was over one thousand years old, he would have found it offensive. The magical world did not have a museum that he knew of, but many pieces in this vault looked like they belonged in one.

Harry also dueled Andromeda. She was terrifying in action. Members of the Black family, she had said, were taught from an early age to be proficient in attack and defense, as the family had more enemies than allies, and most of their allies were enemies. Andromeda herself was the best duelist among her siblings, even the criminally insane Bellatrix.

During some of his few free hours, Harry met with Daphne. She came for an afternoon where they walked the grounds of Blackstone Manor and explored the library. It was during their walk that they came to rest, and a memory from the start of the year came to him. "Hey, I just remembered something.”

“Oh? And what is it you have remembered?” asked Daphne.

“The first night, Smara went with you to the Slytherin common room. She said that she had something to show you that might have been lost, but she never explained what it was.”

Daphne blushed a deep scarlet. “It—it doesn’t matter. It’s something only Tracey and I know of, and I’d prefer to keep it that way for now, if you don’t mind. It’s something to do with water, if that is enough for you.”

“Ooh, err, yeah, sure. Sorry, I was just curious.”

“It’s fine. It’s just I’ve never spoken of it before. To anyone.”

The week away came and went in a soft and steady fashion, and Harry was even more exhausted than he usually was when his head hit his four-poster that next Sunday night after another long train journey.

Chapter Text

As March turned to April and April to May, the mood in the castle shifted. — Not to a deep brooding fear. — But a slight shift towards the type of anxiety that only end of year tests can cause. One day, the student body was treated to a delightful morning of the headmistress publicly dressing down Lockhart for his first draft of final exam questions as public embarrassment was the best way to get Lockhart to do as he should. The fame driven ponce couldn't stand being publicly ridiculed.
Professor Chambers, on the other hand, had handed out an improved study guide that gave out what dates and events each class should focus on for the tests.
Molly Weasley while wholly improving her techniques was still following McGonagall's prior syllabus, Harry and Hermione were assuming that she would only be tweaking what she had been, namely the objects targeted for change to make the transformation more “homely” and “everyday”. Hermione at least agreed that transfiguring a pin cushion to a clay pot provides the same cross materials to switch a tortoise to a teapot. Turning a pebble into a coat button provides much the same visualization practice as a snail.

Snape, who had been very different since he appeared at his hearing at the ministry, had approached Harry and Hermione with completely separate study material.

“The headmistress has seen fit to acknowledge both of your prowess in Potions and has agreed to let you sit an advanced Potions test. This potion is not normally brewed until late into your third year. Study these books and learn the theory of the potion and the ingredients. It will be your final this year.” He then stormed off. Ron was looking like they both had kicked his dog.

“Why do you get a different test? What have you all done that I haven't this year.”

“I don't know, Weasley, maybe achieve an average grade above the single digits.” Draco Malfoy interjected, holding up his own packet.

“Why do-” started Harry before he was interrupted by the potions master.

“Be polite Draco, it is below you to boast. Five points from Slytherin.
He is rude and wrong, Weasley, but not totally. There are five students in your year who are at least capable of this advanced test. You who can barely pot a usable potion and not burnt sludge like Longbottom are not one.” Snape said.

“Well it's not fair. No one helps me in-” Ron started to whine, but the greasy haired potioneer cut him off again.

“You hang around two of the most capable students to enter this classroom in the last seventeen years, yet you can barely brew tea! You are as intelligent as your brothers, Weasley, utilize your resources or shut up! I would focus on studying and passing my tests if I were you; don't think I'm unaware of what will happen if you don't do better on these tests than you did last year.“ That finally stopped Ron‘s arguing.

Over the next few weeks, people saw a marked improvement in Rons' study and work habits. Not that anyone, even Harry and Hermione, believed these would be a long-term commitment to change. Everyone remembered when Bill dressed Ron down, and that further only lasted 2 months. But anyway, that Ron didn't act like doing homework was equivalent to wearing thumb screws, Hermione and Harry counted as a win.

With the end of term nearing, now in May, everyone was firmly in anxiety ridden study mode. All classes turned to review. All homework was either updated or more detailed versions of previous assignments. Harry had started to ignore the letters he received and had even told his Mesoamerican penpal that he would be focusing on reviewing and would write to him at a later date. The only letters he didn't outright ignore were his Gringotts letters and that was merely because only an idiot would ignore correspondence from the goblins.

Even through the monotonous slog of review and revising, Harry took notice of those around him that worried him; Ginny was surprisingly chipper. She was enjoying her time at Hogwarts and spending time with her friends that she had finally made. Luna, though, had him worried. He didn't know her well, and from what he knew of her from others, she was a strange girl at the best of times, but these were not the best of times. He didn't see her often as they didn't have classes together being a year apart, and he had no classes near the girl as the Ravenclaws had opposite schedules to Gryffindor. What Harry did see of the first year raven though had him immensely worried. She was so pale her skin was almost translucent. The red invaded her irises and brightened to such a vivid scarlett they were almost iridescent. Even more worrying, she stopped responding to him in her airy, far away voice she normally adopted but instead gave short and cold answers in a near monotone voice.

When he brought his fears up to the headmistress, when he saw her strolling through the hallway, she waved him off.

“The poor girl had a very traumatic experience, Mister Potter, Madam Pomfrey gives her regular checkups and ensures everything is fine with Ms Lovegood. I appreciate you looking out for her, but I have been assured by a healer that her current situation is stressful.” The headmistress said.

Yet that didn't sit right with Harry — who took the time to follow the girl when she didn't know he was there and check up on her when she did. Although nothing ever came up with it, Harry's instincts were still screaming at him that something was wrong.

Another development came in the form of a parchment that Fred and George stole from Filch. Harry hadn't had much time to search and thus couldn't find anything in his fathers belongings, but the twins did manage to find out something the parchment did. If you used magic to try and unlock the parchment secrets, four very interesting characters would erupt from the depths of the parchment and hurl insults at the caster. Whichever of his fathers friends “Messer Prongs” was, had a very odd sense of humor.
“Messer Prongs applauds your ingenuity but encourages you both to get your freckled arses out of other people's business.”
It would seem the parchment will continue to be a mystery for quite some time. The only other marauder that Harry knew the name of was Sirius Black and he was beyond reach in rehab.

It was the twenty ninth of May and Harry was preparing for the final quidditch match of the year. Gryffindor versus Slytherin, this would be the match where Harry would finally complete his petty scheme and thoroughly embarrass Draco off the pitch. Not that it'll be easy — for several weeks now, Harry had been avoiding pushes and feet trying to trip him in the hallways and dodging poorly aimed spells — and now he'll have to contend with Malfoy's faster broom.

Harry stood across the pitch giving Malfoy his best intimidating glare, when the headmistress came bustling onto the field holding a massive megaphone.

“All students! Please return to your house dormitories! All students please return to your dormitories! Mister Potter, you had better come with me.”

Ron ran up just then eyes wide with fear. “What's going on professor?” He asked.

“Yes, yes Mister Weasley you had best come as well.”

They hurriedly marched through the halls of Hogwarts but instead of going to the head office they went to the chamber of the Great Hall. Inside, sitting on the available couches, was a teary eyed man with white blonde hair. And an absolutely distraught Daniel and Emma Granger.

The headmistress conjured another two seat couch. “You boys best sit for this. I'm sorry to say that Miss Granger has been taken, taken by the Heir of Slytherin back into the chamber.”

“What?” asked Ron. “But he's gone, Harry destroyed him, you said so.”

“So I did, we are unsure as to how the spirit managed to avoid detection for so long. But it is true; the heir left another note right next to where the first one was. “Their skeletons shall lie in the chamber forever.” There is now a barrier in place blocking all access to Myrtle Warren's bathroom. We have a team of curse breakers on their way to co-” but Harry barging out of the room cut her off and to her astonishment a barrier popped into being with a cold hiss from Harry, preventing anyone from following him.

As Harry sprinted through the hallway towards the chamber he encountered two people he did not anticipate being there. William Chambers and Gilderoy Lockhart.

“If only we could get in there! This kind of thing would be perfect for my next book, exactly what I was looking for as an ending.” The defense teacher said.

“Yea? And how in tarnation do you suspect we can get down there with that bubble blocking the way?” But the two had noticed Harry now; not that he had stopped, an angry hiss ripping from his mouth, the shield was dispersed and Harry charged through the door without even breaking stride. He didn't notice as the two teachers scrambled after him into the bathroom nor did he see them follow him as he dived into the waiting hole and slid down. He did notice however when Lockhart's heavy weight caused the man to over take Harry on the final stretch of the slide causing them both to shoot off the slide and roll over each other ending with a crunch. Harry rolled to his feet and accosted the two men standing before him.

“What do you think you're doing! You're slowing me down. I have to get there. I have to save her. To save them. We don't have time for another parselmouth to get here!”

“Harry, calm it down some. We ain't here to stop you. I figured you'd dive down here as soon as Ole Minny told you. We're here to help son, not hender ya” explained the American.

“Yes Harry, do lead on, won't you? I can see another barrier at the causeway entrance.” said Lockhart.

And with that Harry and the two professors set off at a run. Down the long tunnel to the open serpent door. Harry tried the previously easy opening phrase, but it didn't work. So Harry, knowing he had to think, sank to his knees and took several deep calming breaths while recalling the few lessons he'd had with Mister Chamalli.

Parseltongue was a magical language. Each syllable dripped magic. Each word could be infused with intent and will. Each phrase has the potential to do great good or ill. Parselmagic as a whole is susceptible to power, intent, and will. If you lack intent and will and you only focus on power, your magic will be easily subverted like a tall stack of blocks, steady at first glance but easily toppled. It was good that Harry was not lacking in power nor intent, nor was he short on willpower. Right now Harry was intent and will incarnate. And his full magical might is on reserve for the task of saving his best friend. His best friend, that sat trapped beyond this glittering black serpent's eye shield. So sure of what he must do Harry reached within himself to the place in his mind where his ability to speak one of the true languages of the world lay and he began to hiss in a forceful sibilant voice.

“I, Harry James Potter, Lord Potter and inheritor of the will of Gryffindor and the usurper of the line of Slytherin, the true master of this hall and this language demand that these barriers all dispel and leave my way clear” and with the silence that came after Harry's hisses finally stopped the pure black bubble shield popped, revealing the causeway and a small form with white blonde hair in the middle of the room.

“Luna!” Harry ran forward to the girl laying on the ground. She was naked and a very familiar rune circle was carved into her skin, the runes glowing and sizzling with the force of the magic rolling through it. “Luna! No, what do I do, Prof-” Harry looked for the professors but the other half of the chamber was blocked off by another parsel magic shield just immensely bigger now. “Oh Luna, I got here as soon as possible please wake up I-”

“She won't wake, Harry Potter.” Said a bored sounding sarcastic drawl to his right. When Harry looked he saw a boy a little older than Harry was, maybe 16. The black inky vapor slowly coalescing into human skin left Harry with zero doubt that he was finally speaking to Tom Riddle. Face to face.

“This is the meeting I have been trying to arrange all year long. Who knew all I had to do was to kidnap that buck tooth rat I carried in here.” Tom Riddle said coolly, smirking. Harry looked around frantically.

“Hermione! Where is she? If you've hurt her I swear I‘ll-.”

“Kill me? I don't think so, your mudblood is in Slytherin’s old library, trussed up and waiting for me to come back in a more…..physically able form.”

“You won't touch a hair on her head!” Yelled Harry going for his wand but discovering his pocket was empty. He turned to see Tom Riddle tossing his wand up into the air. He looked back at Luna. The girl was totally catatonic and growing paler by the second, just as Tom seemed to grow more solid.

“You said you had been trying to arrange this meeting all year. Why?”

“Why? He asks.” Tim Riddle laughed a cold dead laugh with no mirth in his voice. “There are many strange likenesses between you and me, Harry, both orphans, raised by abusive muggles, both of our lives meddled with by that bothersome fool Dumbledore.

I'm sure a bright young man, as you are, already knows who I am? My legacy? Your ministry worked it out when they found my diary.” At this he gestures to a small black book laying near Luna.

“How? That was confiscated by the DMLE!”

“You don't know much about dark magic do you, Harry?

Of course you don't, how could you, having grown up in the muggle world. There are some pieces of dark magic that can't be destroyed. I was able to link a part of myself to my diary and through this link that diary became a part of me. When this piece of magic is cast it allows the container to become essentially impervious to damage. It can grow back, recover, and repair itself from all damage done to it. Only it recovers from whatever piece of the container is nearest to the connection, in this case nearest to me. Say from a piece of paper given to a dear friend the night before you knew you would be found out. I've been with young Luna for a while now.”

“But how, I destroyed you, I stopped you during the ritual.” Blustered Harry

“That HURT. I must commend you on that, it is hard to cause pain to a s- to a memory. Even a living one like me.” said the inky shade of Tom Riddle who looked almost fully human now aside from the thin blotchy outline like a poorly drawn cartoon. “But it didn't matter, I was strong enough at that point, strong enough to leave my still partially destroyed diary and to hide. Don’t you know that old muggle saying, Harry? “The eyes are the windows to the soul” and so that is where I hid. In her eyes; the lack of dark magic placated the fools who claim to have knowledge of the dark arts. But I am far more clever than any wizard, did you know that Potter? That the eyes have an entirely separate immune system. That if the eyes were discovered by the body's regular antibodies, that they would eat your own eyeballs out of your skull. That being the case, diagnostic charms are built to scan the body from the information passed by and for the immune system, But wizards are unaware that they do not affect the eyes. It's why there are so many wizards with glasses when everything we know tells us magic should heal our eyes. But it doesn't.”

“What do you want from me?” Harry said, getting angry.

“From you? Answers, Harry. I want answers. I was going to rip them from the mind of that know-it-all friend of yours while I had my fun eviscerating her. I wasn't entirely certain you would or could come for her — but you did and now I can get answers directly from you. Like how a small boy with no amazing magical talent managed to take me down at my prime. Knowledge so that I can leave this room and become the true ruler of wizarding Britain and be assured that no fluke, no Harry Potter will ever come again and send me to a disembodied exile.”

“Well I have news for you, no one knows what happened that night when you came after me, not even I do. But I can tell you, you're weak, you're ugly, you're foul. I saw you last year when you tried to steal the Sorcerer's Stone. I stopped you then and I'll find a way to stop you now.” And with that Harry took off in a zigzag pattern. Riddle used Harry's wand to hurl spells at him. On and on he ran and hid and died and ducked and dodged untill a particularly well placed blasting curse threw razor sharp shards of rock flying and sent Harry flipping through the air to land on his back.

‘The stone of the chamber must have been flint’ Harry noted, recognizing the sharp jagged edges that reminded him of a caveman spear he saw in his history class in primary school. Harry lay there, breathing heavily and in pain, something in his leg was hurt badly. He looked at a sharp rock in front of him bigger than his hand. His vision found its way to the pale bleeding form of Luna and the rune circle, searing her life away. And then Tom Riddle walked slowly towards Harry and a plan suddenly clicked into place.

As quickly as Harry could he scooped at the flint blade and ran as fast as his injured leg would carry him across the 20 or so yards that separated him and Luna, dodging Tom‘s spells the entire time. When he got to a certain distance Harry launched himself in the air and brought the razor sharp stone down across the alabaster skin of his friend and across the runic array, cleaving a deep channel in the girl's already ruined skin. “Yes!”

“No!, I was so close! How many times do I have to do this ritual before I can have a body? Now you've doomed your buck-toothed mudblood to an even worse fate. I was just going to ruin her over your corpse to celebrate my return. But now I'll have to leach her life force like I've done with all the other no-name plebeians.”

“Oh no, you won't, Tom Riddle.” And Harry started to swing the flint knife at the specter only he wasn't so spectral anymore and with a quick tug a thick stream of black liquid spilled from the 2 foot gash bisecting Tom Riddle's chest and even opening a place where his inky black inwards started to vaporize in the air.

A quick banishing hex sent Harry flying further back, away from the ghostly teen. But Harry, adrenaline now pumping, jumped straight to his feet and took a running jump using the rubble of a fallen snake statue as a springboard clutching the sharp rock in one bleeding hand and his other hand extended his balance. When his world slowed down, time seemed to crawl. In front of him materializing from the very air was a glimmering silver sword that he clutched with his open hand. When his hand closed around the hill of the sword, time once again returned to normal and as one he brought down the sparkling blade and the flint knife. Tom Riddle sent a blasting curse at the flint knife which exploded into fragments cutting Harry's hand to shreds along with his face. But the silver sword came down and cleaved the teen in two from left shoulder to right hip. Harry landed on the ground and his legs buckled, knee exploding in pain and the would-be Dark Lord collapsed in a heap; only the arm that was still attached raised Harry's wand.

“You can not defeat me Potter, I am Lord Voldemort, the greatest sorcerer in the world, even when I was in school I had the most powerful in our society eating out of my hands!” Before he silently cast a red spell at Harry whose only defense and only instinct was to wrap his bleeding hand around the tip of the blade and use the body of the sword to try to block the spell. Amazingly, the spell was absorbed by the blade. This seemed to shock Tom Riddle as much as it did Harry. Then Harry looked between Tom Riddle and the book that Harry could see was also spewing ink across the floor in a pattern similar to Tom's injury and Harry running on pure instinct stabbed the diary once, twice, three times the last time making it from cover to cover.

It took a minute but Tom Riddle started thrashing in pain and beams of light bifurcated his body. Harry looked at the sorrowful excuse for a teenager. “Tom, I don't know who the greatest sorcerer in the world is, but it's not you.” And with that the future Dark Lord lost all form and turned into a black inky mass that then dissolved, leaving only a dark stain on the stone. The barrier fell a few seconds later as Harry lay still catching his breath. And the two professors rushed in clutching their wands. Seeing that there was no danger, Chambers lowered his wand but Harry wasn't fast enough to warn him.

“Expelliarmus!” Called out Lockhart. And then he wordlessly summoned Harry‘s and chambers wands pocketing them both.

“What in the Sam Hill are you doing, Lockhart?” Asked the Texan wizard.

“Don't you see how perfect it is? I, the gallant hero, arrive just in time to save your lifes from the horror of the Heir of Slytherin. But not before you both lost your minds at the tragic end of Miss Lovegood. Perfect story to take credit for” Explained Lockhart pointing his wand at them both in turn.

“What are you talking about? Taking credit? After everything you did in your books?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Oh do use your head dear boy, my books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I had done all those things.” Remarked the Defense professor.

“So you're trying to take credit for this fight and erase our memories. Did you do anything you wrote about in those books of yours?” Asked Chambers who was slowly inching his arms down instead of up in surrender.

“Of course NOT! But if I'm not THE hero I'de never sell another book! Some of the people that I wrote about? They'd be dreadful on a front cover. The witch who banished the bandon banshee had a hair lip for Merlin's sake. No, it's best I take the story from here, lads say goodbye to your memories.

OBLIVIATE!” There was a swishing and a deafening bang. And a limp thump onto the ground that Harry was all too familiar with nowadays.

“You can look, Harry, he ain't gonna hurt nobody anymore.” Harry looked up and saw Chambers holding something, not a wand but a shiny silver gun with a smoking barrel. He looked forward and saw Lockhart on the ground staring straight up. Only he was still breathing. He had fainted when Chambers shot his wand.

“Come on, up you get Lockhart, I shot your wand not you, ya iggit.” Chambers made his way over to Luna and conjured a blanket to cover her modesty and then pulled out three green bottles and poured one down the girl's throat.

“Harry, you stay here and look after Luna and this idiot. I'll be back in a jiffy with some help. In another two or so minutes if I ain't back yet make sure the little lady drinks another Wiggenweld.” As Chambers ran by he kicked Lockhart.

“Ow!” Said Lockhart springing up rubbing his head. “Where? Where am I? What is this place?”

“Errrrr professor don't you remember? This is Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts? What a funny name. What's your name?......What's my name? Where am I?”

“Yea it's a funny name, my name's Harry, your name is professor Lockhart. And you're at Hogwarts like I just said” Harry said, getting more bewildered by the second.

“Ahh! Funny name that. A professor? Really? Am I? Hopeless I suspect” questioned the amnesiac professor.

“Err yea a bit at first but you were alright once you got some help.” Harry said.

“Ahh. Who are you again?” Lockhart said hopefully. They sat there for about five minutes until they heard a thundering pounding of various feet racing down to the chamber. What followed was several minutes of scans, questions and watching as first Luna then Lockhart and then Hermione who was bound in the library but otherwise unharmed, were taken to the hospital wing. It felt like forever before he was allowed to follow but in actuality it was probably less then a minute.

Harry was diagnosed with another concussion, a displaced kneecap, a fractured hip and pelvis, broken ankle, his hand was all but a lost cause. Pomfrey took dittany soaked gauze and wrapped his hand like a world champion boxer heedless to his screams of pain or his pleading that it was too tight. He was also suffering from a minor laceration to his jugular and about 300 minor cuts and wounds and she even had to summon 75 pieces of shrapnel. He would be drinkinging healing and nutrient potions every hour on the hour for the next 3 days.

Hermione had been relatively unharmed but was pulled out of school for the week so her mother could spend some time with her daughter after such an ordeal. Harry didn't tell them what Tom Riddle intended for her other than to question her about Harry.

Lockhart had one hundred percent of his memories erased and his short term memory destroyed. Luna however would not wake up, no matter what ministrations was spent on her for the next 3 days and was released to St Mungo’s to get more and better treatment.

Harry was released on Wednesday morning, 4 days after defeating Tom Riddle. Which Smara was thankful for, she had been keeping him company while Hermione was out of the castle; a quick note from his best friend that morning told him that she would be back on Friday.

“Now off you get, young man. The headmistress has called an assembly for breakfast.” the matron told him after she made sure he completed his last doses. His arm was still wrapped in bandages and his snake companion wrapped around his shoulders. So Harry meandered his way to the great hall and found his seat next to Ron who was inhaling his food as usual. At least Ron learned that lesson as the only greeting Harry got was a head nod before the young redhead returned to eating. Harry had to physically restrain himself from making Hermione's plate for her. It caused him such a disturbance that he was still fumbling when Daphne sat next to him, Smara immediately sliding over to the shoulders of her favorite Slytherin.

“Hello Harry, you looked lost. I know you normally make Hermione's plate at breakfast as she brags about it when we study together. So how about you try to throw my favorite meal together?” Daphne said in a teasing voice.

“I- I've never watched you eat?” Harry said somewhat stunned by Daphne's uncharacteristic behavior. Even after 4 days Harry was still suffering from shock and trauma. It was forcing his brain into completing its everyday routine as a defense mechanism and it made processing Daphne's behavior difficult.

“Well you can at least try? Hmm?” Daphne teased with a smile.

“Right, errrr” Harry said looking at Daphne and then the food on display. Before putting three pieces of bacon, a French omelet, and 3 pieces of toast with black currant preserves. And then handing her the plate.

“And what made you pick these choices.” Daphne asked after taking the plate.

“Well the bacon and eggs is a traditional breakfast, but you're a noble family which means you have French Influence so I chose an omelet over scrambled eggs. And the jam and toast because I dont see you being into the more hardy full english” Harry explained hesitantly.

“ Those are very astoot, sound and well reasoned observations. However my preference is strawberry jam on toast for breakfast. I find anything else upsets my stomach. Now relax Harry, we're all good now, thanks to you. I could see that thousand yard stare as you came into the hall. And Hermione would be very cross with me if I didn't cheer you up. Have a good day, Potter.” As she took her plate back over to the Slytherin table.

A short time later after everyone had eaten the headmistress stood up and addressed the gathered students. Harry found it hard to turn his attention away from his picked at breakfast. He hadn't slept well in 4 days, each night permeated with nightmares, flashbacks and screams.

“Good morning students, given the fact that what happened the other day is a total secret, I assume that all of you know enough for me to avoid a summary. The board of governors, the heads of houses, and myself have been in debate since then and we have finally decided on the appropriate consequences for those involved.

In the case of Miss Lovegood no punishment will be given as she could not control her actions.

Mister Lockhart has been fired, all remaining classes leading to testing will be overseen by his ministerial overseer proctor Gambal.

Professor Chambers has been given a raise for his defense of three students.

And finally Harry Potter, what to do with you has been a matter of great contention. First I'm going to take three hundred house points for various violations. And then it has been decided that we will receive one hundred points for discovering the chamber of secrets, one hundred points for saving and befriending a creature older this school, one hundred points for your part in saving students and ending the first ritual and finally one hundred points for saving your friends at great personal risk and embodying what a true gryffindor is. You will also be awarded the Gold Shield in recognition for you performing 3 seperate special services to the school, saving students, removing danger to the school twice. And donating so much money and equipment to improve the experience of every student in the school.

I was going to wait until the leaving feast to make these announcements but recent events have brought up the necessity to bump things up.

We have several students out in recovery, all will be back by the start of testing, Ravenclaw especially should be glad to hear Miss Lovegood is finally awake and responding well to treatment and is expected to make a full and unmarked recovery.” Many at the ravenclaw table looked around horribly awkwardly.

“Finally all tests will start on time as scheduled.

That is all, may you all have a wonderful day.

Mister Potter, if I may have a word with you in my office in one hour's time?” the headmistress called out.

____________________________________

Harry sat in the head office. Almost every available surface was covered in portraits of previous headmasters. The walls were covered in bookshelves, the tables filled with centuries of collected niknaks, some of which seemed to serve some function or another as they would occasionally change color, shape, form, or emit some light or smoke or vapor. The head‘s desk was made of a deep red wood and was neatly organized, much as Harry had expected from the austere woman sitting behind it. Harry could see the warming plate that McGonagall had mentioned all those months ago when they first entered Slytherin‘s library. In front of the warming plate was a tin of ginger newts, a popular flavor of biscuit in Wizarding Britain not unlike a ginger snap in the muggle world but with an aftertaste Harry had neither been able to identify nor get past on the few occasions he had tried them. They tasted too sharp and left a bitter note in his mouth after the sugar faded.

“Have a biscuit Potter, you barely ate” Harry was about to respond when she cut him off. “I was watching Mister Potter now have a biscuit.”

“It's not that ma'am, it's just I don't care for ginger newts much, magical baking in general seems to use odd ingredients that I can't get around.” Harry said calmly.

“Ahh, I suppose they can be a bit sharp for people raised on the sugar filled treats of the muggle world. We tend to use honey instead of cane sugar. Although ginger newts are made with sorghum syrup it's a unique flavor that takes getting used to.

Now to business Harry, I noticed that you have taken longer to recover from this fight. You are a most resilient person, Mister Potter but I realize that even the strongest person has a limit to what they can endure and you have had a very busy year. So I must ask if there is anything you'd like to tell me?” McGonagall asked, looking very sympathetic.

Harry looked deep into the eyes of the headmistress as he thought of his answer. Andromeda and Tonks told him to talk to people when he was feeling lost and he had to fight all his instincts to not say that he was fine. “It‘s- it's several things professor, I'm worried for Hermione, her parents will be furious with me, I think, because she was targeted to get to me. On Top of that Tom Riddle from the diary said something and I can't get it out of my head. Because I think he was right.”

“And what did Tom say to you Harry?” Asked McGonagall.

“That we were alike, strange likenesses he said.” responded Harry in a despondent voice.

“I see… Harry? Do you know how old I am? No? Well I was born or so I'm told on a brisk October morning in 1929, I went to Hogwarts with Tom Riddle. He was a few years above me and in Slytherin of course. I knew him rather well if by nothing but reputation. Even back then house rivalry got in the way of inter house friendships. Tom Riddle was a model student, smart, powerful, and best of all eager to learn and prove himself. He most definitely displayed many attributes that you as well shine with, including a certain disregard for rules if I may say so. But where you are smart and kind. Strong and brave. Tom Riddle was intelligent, cold, calculated, and above all cruel and manipulative.

He had the staff eating out of his hand by his third year. Young Tom Riddle was smart and capable. So poor yet so brave. It was he that turned in Hagrid for the death of Myrtle Warren. Not that anyone actually believed that Hagrid was the Heir of Slytherin.

So yes Harry, while you hold a certain similarity to Tom Riddle. You hold vastly more differences than him.”

“The hat” Harry said pointing at the Sorting Hat sitting high up on a shelf. “Said I would have done well in Slytherin.”

“You would have done well in Slytherin Harry because you are naturally smart and cunning, not because you are evil. If you want proof that you were sorted correctly I would suggest you take a closer look at this sword you found.” She gestured to the glittering sword that sat on the mantle above her fireplace. It was glittering silver. With 2 egg sized rubies set into the cross guard and a third on the pommel. Inscribed on the length of the cross guard was the name “GRYFFINDOR.”

“Only a true gryffindor can summon that sword and call it to them in their hour of greatest need. It hasn't moved from this office in eight centuries. Until it was called by you in defense of the school. Not yourself, not any small petty reason. The sword came to you because you wanted to defend the school and all its inhabitants,and that is something Tom Riddle could never do, not even when he was named head boy. Or at the hight of his powers to willfully throw yourself into danger despite all odds. You are the Heir of Gryffindor, Harry, not Slytherin's.

“Professor? How did I destroy that book? Tom Riddle who came out of it said that he's made the book pretty much invincible.” Asked Harry.

“Ahh, yes, I‘ve been thinking of that. Do you know what this is Harry? This is goblin silver. It dispels dirt and dust and takes in only that which strengthens it. If I'm not mistaken Smara‘s venom runs through your veins and thus it is in your blood. When you grabbed the blade and cut your hand, I suspect that the sword absorbed your blood. Or the venom it contained. Not many things on this earth can survive contact with basilisk venom, Harry. You are immune to it because of your bond with Smara.

Now go Potter, you'll be off classes until Monday and if I'm reading the wards correctly you'll have a chance to clear up any bad feelings with Miss Granger's parents very soon, as they've just crossed the ward line.“

Harry rushed from her room a wide grin plastered on his face.

Chapter Text

The final exams had been a breeze. Harry was fairly confident he got 100 percent on every test aside from Astronomy, even Snape’s advanced test was a breeze after studying his grandfather's personal notes. He had to suffer through three days of Hermione's anxiety riddled rambling and Ron's nonstop unprepared grousing about how difficult everything was. He did his best to assist Ron and calm Hermione but it didn't work for long in either case.

Now testing was done and the second years had two solid weeks of minimal class work. Some classes like Defense Against the Dark Arts and Astronomy were cancelled because the instructor had left for one reason or another after the younger years' testing. Other classes like Charms and Transfiguration continued in a review and practice capacity for the students who wanted to master the spells taught to them that year. Potions, normally hated by most students, continued as well but only for select students. Harry and Hermione were invited for extra curricular advanced tutoring where Snape taught some advanced techniques and theory to proficient students without having to slow down and explain for the less academically gifted students like Goyle, or Ron. Not that Ron was lacking the information, Harry and Hermione shared their knowledge whenever he asked. Not that he did very often as whenever the two advanced students started to explain, Ron's eyes would quickly glaze over at their explanations.

With the decreased class time the students were given several pamphlets on Hogwarts elective courses for third year onward. The school gave each student information on the classes explaining the process of the class and benefits of them and what other classes they unlock after OWL level.

The main elective classes where,

The study of ancient runes, a class that teaches students to read, speak, and write several ancient magical languages. The basic third year course covered basic younger and elder futhark, the basics of Egyptian hieroglyphs, and beginner sanskrit.

Arithmancy, the study of magical numbers and using complex equations to predict future events and the numerical explanation of magic itself.

Both Ancient Runes and Arithmancy are necessary to begin the study of ward creation as well as Arithmancy alone unlocking Spell Crafting for outstanding OWL students after fifth year.

The last most popular course WAS divination but it was replaced at the beginning of McGonagall's tenure as head mistress with a “much more useful course” as she explained to Harry, Ron and Hermione in a meeting Harry had arranged.

“Alchemy for third, fourth and fifth years due to its dangerous nature is a highly if not completely theory driven course. It is the study of magic itself and the deep explanation of what makes magic, magic. The rules that make charms, charms, hexes, hexes. And how to manipulate these rules to enact the principles of exchange that Alchemy is famous for. In a more practical application it uses complex runic arrays as well as highly advanced skills in potions, charms, and transfiguration. Alchemy in its base forms is useful for everyday use, extracting the essence of a material or creating paradoxical ingredients like liquid stone or gaseous metals that are used in advanced potions and rituals. Britain used to have an entire society of alchemists. But we have had to rely on foreign made ingredients made by foreign masters for nearly a generation. Dumbledore, mad though he has become, is the Last British alchemical master and he never took apprentices to pass on his knowledge.”

“After the Alchemy OWL you are able to start actually learning the practice of Alchemy.“ The school did not yet have a master alchemist but McGonagall had two more years to attract a master. The class would be taught by a member of the educational standards committee until a true master could be hired.

Hogwarts also had several smaller beginner courses as well, with care of magical creatures being one of the most useful courses even if it was not entirely popular.

After a placement exam nearer when you turn in your placement choices you could be placed in divination. There was also Muggle studies,Magical Theory, and Magical Art which includes learning how to craft the talking and moving portraits that make Hogwarts feel so alive with movement. Many of the courses tie together or compliment each other and unlock several different courses of study from the various teachers.

These courses like ward or spell crafting did not necessarily have their own class and instead flow together into larger classes where the professor facilitates self study. What course to pick and which courses not to pick, caused many second years a lot of consternation. Ron for instance gave up midway through reading a pamphlet on Ancient Runes and just checked the boxes for Care of Magical Creatures and Divination, scratching the nearest requirements of electives and choosing what he hoped would be the easiest courses. On the other hand, Harry and Daphne had to physically restrain Hermione the night before their choices were due to be turned and stop the other enthusiastic girl from signing up for all the courses including muggle studies.

“Wha- What do you even want to take Muggle Studies for Granger! You were raised muggle — your parents are muggles.” Growled Daphne while she wrestled Hermione's parchment containing her chosen classes away from the frizzy haired bookworm.

“But it'll be fascinating to study them from a wizarding perspective.”

“Hermione! You have yourself down for about 12 classes a day. There's not enough time, you can't do it all.” Chised Harry.

“No but I fixed it with the headmistress. She said she'd work it out, now give me back my parchment.” Hermione said in a near manic tone with wide fanatical eyes.

“No Hermione! You can choose three and if you can't narrow them down in the next minute you'll be signing up for the same classes as Daphne and me.” Said Harry putting his foot down. “I'll not let you mentally torture yourself or harm yourself from lack of sleep. I refuse to allow it!”

Hermione fought for a few seconds more until Daphne slammed down her parchment now with Ancient Runes. Arithmancy and Alchemy signed up; the same as Harry and Daphne. Harry took the Slytherin‘s parchment and his own and then snatched up Hermione‘s.

“Toppy!” the young Lord called and Harry's house elf popped up and disappeared with the parchment with instructions to deliver them straight to the headmistress. That seemed to knock all the wind from the poor girl's sails as she sank, breathing heavily to the floor. And then she tried to bolt from the two with tears in her eyes only to be stopped by Daphne.

“Hermione, stop! You are being childish and selfish. And you're acting more like a spoiled little princess than my little sister. Now you can sit there and cry but I will not let you run away from us like we're the bad guys when we are only looking out for you. Now why don't you use that brain of yours and tell me why we did what we did instead of acting like a Malfoy whose bribe money didn't take.”

That got a reluctant giggle from the female gryffindor. “Be- because there I-is-isn‘t en-enough time and over-w-w-working m-my-mesel-self would o-only cause me h-harm.” Said the girl, her speech broken by her hyperventilating.

“Look how worked up you are, Hermione, over the choice of these classes. Imagine the torture of trying to do the work of 13 classes a day. We're not saying you can't study the courses. I'll gladly buy you a full course set on Muggle Studies if you want. But your ability to read and retain information does not match the reality of course and class work.” said Harry. He looked up at catching movement on the edge of his vision and saw Snape standing in the doorway. The sallow faced Potions Master nodded in understanding before speaking.

“Miss Greengrass. It is now well past curfew, the three of you come with me and I will escort you to your common rooms. Five points from Slytherin and ten from Gryffindor.” He then turned around and it was nearly an hour later that Harry was asleep in his four poster bed.

____________________________________

“Lord Potter, sir?” Spoke a soft quivering voice from behind Harry who turned to look at the distantly familiar, squeaky voice to find Dobby standing there, swaying from side to side on shaking legs. Dobby looked terrible. Both his eyes were swollen and nearly shut. Bruises marred every inch of the elf’s face, his arm hung limp at several odd angles. one of his knees was pointing the opposite direction. And when the elf realized he had Harry's attention he took a single fumbling step and began to fall over freely with no chance to catch himself. Harry dove and caught the small creature just before he hit the ground. As he picked up the elf Harry felt the creature's ribs shift under his slight weight and the beaten house-elf rattled out a breath.

“Hold on, Dobby!” Harry yelled as he sprinted for the hospital wing. Hoping that it was even still open as it was the night before the students went home for the summer after all. When Harry barged in, the matron came bustling out of her office in response to her door slamming open. She flew into action calling 4 house-elves and vanishing the creature‘s disputing pillow case, something Harry hadn't noticed from Dobby's fist, and Harry bent to pick it up. Upon straightening the ripped piece of fabric Harry saw red. Clearly this was ripped from a monogrammed towel for it had “Malfoy” stitched in bold gold thread.

”TOPPY!” Harry yelled. With his elf's appearance Harry began to speak in a voice filled with dead rage.

“Toppy, I need you to go get Andromeda here ASAP. Tell her to summon Lord Malfoy and get him here as well. I don't care how she does it but if he's not here in 15 minutes I will retrieve him myself!” And the elf snapped away. It was only a few minutes later that Toppy popped back. And reported that Andromeda had sat out looking “like a hippogriff flew away with her wand” which Harry assumed ment angry.
Almost exactly twelve Minutes later Andromeda, McGonagall, and Narcissa came marching through the hospital wing doors. Narcissa dragging her husband by the ear and holding his cane. Twelve minutes in which the elves forced the matron away from Dobby as his condition deteriorated further. Eight elves including Tuppy and Toppy now surrounded Dobby, weaving magic above the broken elf trying to save him.

Harry seeing the elder Malfoy quickly became apoplectic with rage. “You!” Harry shouted. “It's been you this whole time! All year Dobby has been visiting me warning me about danger his master brought to the school. Covered in injuries and bruises and scars. And it's been YOU this entire time. I had a higher opinion of you compared to your bullying git of a son but I see now you're even more cruel than Draco. How dare you do that to anyone.” Yelled Harry.

“I didn't do it to anyone, I can treat my elf how I want. He's mine. I own his heart, body and soul, Potter. If I wanted him to eat his arm all I‘d have to do is order him to do it. He's a thing, a possession, I can take my frustrations out on him all I wa-” said Lucius trying desperately to calm Harry but failing entirely.

“AAARRRGGGG!” Harry yelled losing all control. And Harry forgot. He forgot that he was in school. He forgot that there were people around, he watched as the struggling elf on the bed fell limp and Harry forgot that he had a wand. Harry reached out and grabbed Lucius and pulled him closer, the intervening ten feet of space between them no longer mattered. That distance might as well not have existed. Harry reached out using his magic as a fist and pulled the elder Malfoy to him. And an immobile Lucius was tagged across the hospital wing and forced down to look Harry in the eye.

“ I despise those who beat people weaker than them. I hate abusers with every fiber of my being and every scar, every hungry night I couldn't sleep because of the pain and every broken bone I've ever experienced. You almost made it Lucius, another 2 weeks and you'd be getting your payout for clearing out my land. But I, Lord Potter, hereby enact my emergency exit clause. You have insulted me by violating my principles and making me guilty of abuse by association with you. You have 2 weeks to pay the damages you agreed to or I will take it from you by force.” Harry explained in a calm even tone, so angry he was past yelling.

“Free him.”

“Harry if Dobby is free he will-” Andromeda said.

“Free him!” Harry said through clenched teeth. And Harry tightened his grip on the air which tightened his magic grip on Lucius enough to elicit a crack from the man's ribs.

Narcissa, not waiting for her husband, ripped her shawl from her shoulders and marched over to Dobby who was in the middle of a seizure. “Dobby, you are free from this day forth, take his coat as a sign of your freedom and shame.” This had an immediate effect on Dobby whose seizure seemed to intensify. And Harry released Lucius who collapsed to the ground clutching his cracked ribs.

Harry walked up and snatched the shawl from Dobby. “Dobby, I enslave you in the name of house Potter. You are my servant now and until I free you or you die.” And Harry put his hands on his new elf that started to glow with a golden light, and Harry started to feed his own magic into Dobby, his other house elves helping in Harry‘s actions. Soon Dobby stopped shaking and collapsed limply to the bed. And Toppy spoke up.

“Dobby will be OK now, master. He will be needing a long time to recover. We will be taking him to the manor.” And the three elves popped off. Harry sank to his knees, his tension finally breaking and he held off his own tears as he saw the high heeled shoes of Narcissa Malfoy approach him.

“You, Lord Potter, will make a very formidable Head of house and a powerful enemy. I hope my own Head of house will be half as authoritative as you are growing to be.
Sirius is a powerful wizard. But I fear he will be broken after so long in Azkaban.”

“Sirius Black is your Head of house?” Harry asked quietly.

“He will be when he is released from St Mungo‘s. Never has the Black family been so long without a head. The line is nearly extinct so it doesn't matter as much as it would have before the war.”

Harry loosened up with the distraction of Narcissa's calm conversation.
“How long has there not been a Lord Black? And you’re Andromeda's sister, that makes us cousins.”

“Hmmn yes, distant cousins but yes. It has been 3 years. Sirius’ father passed away the summer before your first year. Liver disease of all things. When you're older you will realize how impressive that is for a wizard.

How much wealth has my fool of a husband lost us.” Narcissa ended with a question sounding very self conscious.

“I can't remember, I'll have Andromeda go through it with you. I honestly can't remember the numbers right now, alot is the quick answer. More than enough to bankrupt most other families.”

Harry stood on shaking legs and fumbled over to Lucius who was still curled on the ground and casting low groaned “episkies” on his ribs with his wand that Narcissa must have given the man before going to speak with Harry.
Harry leaned over and whispered in the man's ear.

“I have no proof it was you Lucius, but if anymore of that monster‘s belongings wind up in this school, I will let Smara eat you alive from the toes up, do you understand?” With a low affirming groan Harry walks slowly over to a hospital bed and lays down and then promptly passes out.

____________________________________

“He broke his bones Andromeda!” McGonagall nearly shouted. “ I knew, I heard the reports from the healers that he might experience a spike in magical power. But to do what he did? I don't think even Albus..”

“I know Minerva, I know I saw it, was there really no indication?” asked Andromeda.

“No, nothing, the only thing the other professors ever reported was the boy performing magic more easily, which we all attributed to him no longer being dosed or controlled. Poppy? Was there anything you noticed?”

“No.” The matron said sharply. “I've gone through the notes I wrote from his first year but it seems the headmaster got to me as well and erased memories and entire swathes of medical annotation. The only thing I can find is a brief mention of a dark, something, attached to the boy's scar. But there's nothing there anymore. But my professional opinion was that whatever it was, was siphoning off magic and now that it's not there anymore to do so his magic is at its current full capacity and spilled out of him during Mister Potter‘s outburst. When he wakes we will have to see if he can replicate using his magic like that, but I don't think he's going to go around squashing people like insects.”

“Ted is going to love this, he used to play this ridiculous muggle game called Dungeons and Dragons. In it is a spell, mage hand. Works the same way Harry used his magic, I'll not hear the end of it.”

As the adults continued to talk Harry chose not to move and just listen as they shifted from subject to subject until he noticed a weight on his abdomen shift slightly and Smara’s head came slithering out of his hospital blanket.

“Why do you pretend to sleep young one? Lords are not meant to eavesdrop.”

Harry opened his eyes fully revealing his spectral green eyes alight in the dimly lit hospital wing as they alost always were, a faint ethereal glow from within his eyes.
“ I wasn't eavesdropping I just didn't want to interrupt their conversation.” Harry tried to explain causing Smara to give him the snake equivalent of an eyeroll.

“ I would believe you but I've never met a twelve year old who didn't eavesdrop when it suited them.” Chided Smara.

Harry sat up causing his snake friend to fall from being put off balance unexpectedly. This got the attention of the adults and they came over, being led to Madam Pomfrey.

“Mister Potter, if you are in here much more I'm going to have to designate you a bed. Maybe get a plaque with your name on It.” The matron said as she.began scanning him. “Using that much raw magic all at once you're lucky you have substantial magical reserves or you could have killed yourself.”

“We apologize for waking you, Mister Potter” said the headmistress. “We should have taken our discussion somewhere more private. Please follow Poppy's instructions and then get some more rest, no doubt Miss‘ Granger and Greengrass will be around as soon as curfew lifts. I had to kick them out twice already.” Afterwards Harry was scanned and made as comfortable as possible. Harry's magical reserves were so low that any potion that could help would only hurt him further as it would Overtax his magical core even more. The only thing Harry could do was rest; he wasn't allowed to do magic for the rest of the term, a little over a week away. He fell asleep rather quickly after that depressing bit of news.

____________________________________

The rest of the term passed by in a flash. Hermione and Daphne ganged up on Harry to lambast him over using his magic so recklessly, and also to praise him for such strong wandless magic. Harry had been excused from his few remaining classes as he could not perform magic and he spent the last 4 days of term in the dungeons getting one on one tutoring from Snape. Assisting Snape in perfecting the brewing of a real master level potion, wolfsbane. Harry was very excited about this because it showed Snape actually had faith in Harry brewing even if all he was doing was cutting up and preparing ingredients. Hermione, while Snape would not allow her to help in the preparation, was allowed to hang around while free and watch. Snape in his own private lab was a totally different teacher compared to how he was while teaching an entire class. Actually taking the time to sort out and explain the reasons for why you should sometimes crush things rather than chop them like a recipe called for.

“Look at the fraud Lockhart, Granger. Just because it is written in a book does not make it necessarily accurate.”

That one sentence sent his friend into a three day long introspection that ended with her promising herself and Snape to not take everything written in a book as law. And to try to be more comfortable with experimentation. Daphne and Tracey also spent as much time with their Gryffindor friends as they could. Tracey and Ron arguing over the Chudley Cannons chances in that year's league and Daphne and Hermione chatting about their favorite muggle fiction writers, something Harry couldn't join in on, never having read muggle fiction outside of what's read at primary school.

But now he had left school, left the train, said goodbye to the Grangers, at least for now, they were going on a summer holiday to Spain for the next month. Daphne and her family accompanied her father on a business trip to “the orient.” Ron had received word the morning that they left that Mister Weasley had won some drawing and received 1000 Galleons and had taken his family on a vacation to Egypt. He hadn't even ridden the train home, missus Weasley escorted her son to Hogsmeade right after she had explained everything, although she had promised to get Ron his own wand after he had whipped his wand too wildly and cracked it in half during the year‘s last duelling club.

Now, Harry sat in his sitting room at the furnace where he was deciding his own plans for the summer; Mr. Chemalli had invited him and Smara to witness actual serpent culture at Teotihuacan, the capital of magical Mexico and the home of their feathered serpent God. Which sounded fun and it would be good to go on an actual vacation. Harry spent a few hours making lists and deciding what to do, what not to do and when to do what. When he had settled on a plan, he used the floo to go and talk to Andromeda in person.

____________________________________

It took 2 weeks and a lot of throwing his name around to fast track the travel papers and schedule his international Portkey while Mr. Chemalli arranged his hotel. But here he finally stood, on a terrace that overlooked the underworld city of the old Aztec empire. Modern buildings grew along the crater edge that encircled the city and overlooked the sprawling ancient city with its rising pyramids and temples.
Harry was on the Travel deck of the “imperio Azteca gobierno magico.” The magical government building that was built after they outgrew the complex surrounding the feathered serpent‘s temple, or so he was told by his tour guide.

“Mr. Arturo, if this is the Aztec empire, why is everything in Spanish?”

“A good question niño, when the Spanish conquered here, the conquistadors brought more than muskets. The Spanish magical government came too and with it the need to enforce the Statute of Secrecy that was in place in Spain at the time, even before it was signed into international law. So they came and conquered and were here ruling the magical side of our society up until 1920 when the Mexican revolution finally made us our own country again and returned our national pride. Many of our Citizens refer to the government in Nahuatl now as “Mexihcatl nahualli tlahtocayotl” — magical government of Mexico.

We put in place a new feathered serpent to rule and lead but it was not his father that ruled our people before the Spanish arrival. That serpent was a cruel master and wanted endless sacrifice. Our new leader is much more kind, he has insisted on meeting you as soon as you're settled. It is no rush but tomorrow or the next day I must bring you to him. A king does not let a queen in his territory for long without greetings.” Mister Arturo said.

Harry leaned against the railing looking over the city. The sky was a clear blue and the sun shone down into the great chasm that was the largest “cenote” in Mexico. A cenote is a giant sinkhole that's usually filled with water but ancient spells keep the water out of this one. In the center of the giant well is the temple of the feathered serpent. A large pyramid, the largest in the world actually, was surrounded by four smaller pyramids at each corner and a wall surrounding those. Outside of that, a large magical city sprawled out for close to 3 miles from the center and there were even buildings on the concave walls of the cenote. A street of this city was Dwarf Diagon Alley, a block would swallow Hogsmeade and the temple itself was larger than Hogwarts and the temple built atop the pyramid made it equally as tall. The city was large and alive and the air was filled with the smell of spices so thickly it was making him hungry.

“I can see why the feathered serpents settled here, the area is riddled with natural magic” said Smara who was coiled around Harry's shoulders.
“It does seem to have an energy to it” replied Harry.

Harry was currently waiting for the city's chosen mode of public transportation. Flying carpets, a prospect he was very excited about as they weren't allowed in England. Once it arrived his tour guide nearly had a heart attack as Harry refused to sit for the ride. And when he reached the hotel on the other side of the city, Harry was welcomed to a large room with en-suite jacuzzi. A small library, the books charmed to be in English. And a bed so soft it was like floating on a cloud. After his tour guide set a meeting for eleven the next morning Harry fell onto his bed and was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

____________________________________

It was twelve thirty the next afternoon when Harry and Smara, who stood at her full size, were guided into a room with Mr Chemalli by their side. The room was massive, easily bigger than six Quidditch fields and aside from the large platform they stood on there was no floor. Sitting on the platform were the remains of a leviathan. It was so large it was staggering. The head of the serpent was half as long as Smara and 3 times as thick, with fangs taller than Harry. It was a soft suceration that brought Harry's attention to the pit that laid before them. And from that pit rose another huge serpent. Smaller than the corpse to his right but still large enough to dwarf Smara. It was royal blue with a crown of spikes adoring the rear of its skull, each spike adorned with feathers with colors ranging from white near the base to black at the tip and every shade of blue in-between. The seven jaguar warriors fell to their knees when the serpent crested the rim of the chasm leaving Harry and Smara to weather this great beast's stone gaze by themselves.

A voice spoke to them from the serpent, a voice of such might and majesty that Harry fell to his knees in response to the deep resonance that he could feel shaking in every pebble and stone.

“Greetings great queen and speaker partner. I welcome you to this place, my home, my tomb. Be welcomed now in this land of mine. And learn what it truly means to be “coatl in tlahtoani.“ Snake and speaker.
Partners of both mind and heart.”

“Great king, teach us what knowledge we lack.” Smara Spoke with great reverence.

Harry, still on his knees letting the deep resonance of the snake's voice reverberate through his being, looked at the great eyes of the snake and agreed, “teach us all you can.”

Chapter Text

“Lord Potter,

I am pleased to welcome you back for your third year of instruction at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed in this letter and the package it comes with are

Your grades for the previous year‘s tests.
The special shield badge given to students who have given special services to the school.
Your third year booklist.

- Minerva McGonagall. Headmistress”

Harry put aside the slender cloth wrapped box that came tied to this Hogwarts letter and picked up his grades to read; Hermione would expect a full report. If she didn't just barge through his floo, which was likely. It had been nearly 2 months since they had last seen each other. Looking down at the parchment slip he was very pleased with his placing.

”Lord Potter,

Congratulations on passing your second year at Hogwarts! The final grades for the year are:
- Transfiguration - 105%
- Charms - 125%
- History of Magic - 100%
- Potions - 100%*
- Astronomy - 100%
- Herbology - 125%
- Defense Against the Dark Arts (DADA) - 150%*

*Special note - Harry James Potter displays a natural aptitude for Potions and passed a much harder final. While my class does not give extra credit to raise his percentile above a perfect score, he is currently noted to be a full year ahead of his peers academically.
- S. Snape

Lord Potter shows strong applicable skills in the subject of (DADA), even shining against substandard teaching methods.
- M. McGonagall

Your class ranking is #1.B”

Harry was ecstatic; he did what he set out to do and aced his courses with merits and got to the top of the class. He was slightly confused by the B, though. He finally had proof he was living up to his potential and Smara‘s and Hermione's expectations of him. With his grades quickly getting stuck to his message board he put up in his sitting room, he picked up his book and supplies list.

”Lord Potter will need the following:

At least five sets of wizards' robes. (Black)
Two wizards‘ pointed hats for day wear.
(Please note that while black is the standard, you can accessorize in your house colors.)
One pair of dragonhide gloves (or similar).
At least one pair of black shoes and a pair of boots.
One pewter cauldron (standard size 3).
One stone cauldron (standard size 5).
One set of glass or crystal phials and a stirring set.

The required book list for Harry James Potter is as follows
The standard book of spells grade 3 by Miranda Goshawk
Intermediate Transfiguration by Minerva McGonagall
Magical drafts and potions by Arsenius Jigger
A history of magic by Mathilde Bagshot
The essential defense against the dark arts by Arsenius Jigger
Ancient runes made easy by laurenzoo
The rune dictionary by “merge” publications
A new theory of numerology by Lukas Karuzos.
On becoming an alchemist a guide forth modern magician by Catherine MacCoun

‘I Guess that means I qualified for the classes I wanted’

“You did well, Icniuhtli. You should feel pride” Harry heard from his mind.

A recent development In his bond with Smara from their training with the feathered serpent and jaguar warriors, was that they could now speak through their bond as long they were no more than five hundred yards from each other. It is a connection that is now omnipresent and they had to learn to control and shut it off for their own sanity as on top of speaking they hear each other's inner thoughts and while Harry had it easy, Smara‘s subconscious thoughts were all geared towards survival. Find food to eat, water to drink, and find a warm place to bask in the sun. It was easy for Harry to tune out. Smara however knocked Harry unconscious the first time they completed the link, Her mind was flooded with a million or more tiny impressions that no human was even aware of, overshadowed by an “overwhelming need to rut something until you collapse in exhaustion.” as Smara said when she explained why she knocked him out. She then embarrassed him further by congratulating him on finally entering puberty.

“I do feel pride, I'm quite pleased with myself-” Just then Harry was cut off by a bushy haired brown missile that wrapped its arms around him and knocked him and his chair sideways onto the ground. Wrapping his arms around the precious cargo that was now attached to his shoulder. This of course resulted in him landing roughly and hitting the floor hard with an audible crack. Not that she cared or minded at all.

“Are you ok Hermione?”

“Of course I am, shouldn't I be asking you that? That crack sounded painful.” Hermione asked. Just then another voice he hadn't expected sounded.

“Leave it to you, Granger, to break him before we could even get started killing him for abandoning us for. two. months! With not even a letter to say you were okay! Do you have any idea how worried we were! How worried I was? when I heard that not even Hermione knew where you were I thought some rogue death-eater had kidnapped you! Especially when-”

“No! He doesn't know yet!” Countered Hermione.

“Know what Hermione?” He looked over at Daphne who blushed and looked away. “Know what?

“Harry.. oh, dear, how do I say this? Do you know Fred and George found an old parchment? One linked to your dad somehow?”

“Yea? I've actually been looking around trying to find mention of it since I got back. I promised I would.” Replied Harry.

“Well you don't need to worry about that. They found out what it is and how it works. Another marauder is working at Hogwarts and when the twins found out they asked him what it was.

When they activated it, the twins, Ron, and the new Professor were there. And according to Ron when I went to visit him, when Professor Lupin gave the password a map activated. And stabbers started to freak out and for good reason. That map is a marvel of magic Harry. It shows the names and locations of every human being in the castle and grounds. But Lupin and the Weasleys weren't the only people there. There was another man on top of where Ron was standing. Harry it was-”

“Peter Petigrew.” finished Daphne after it seemed Hermione couldn't go on. The rat quickly attacked according to Fred. He bit Ron and leapt from his hand. And then turned into a human. A human with a wand. He attacked them. No one died thank the gods. But Ron had his legs crushed by the table they were standing around when Pettigrew banished it, Fred was fine George was hit with a reductor curse. But it seems that Petigrew is a singularly incompetent wizard as all it did was throw George a few feet and break most of his bones. Lupin gave chase but lost him when the rat dove into some pipes.” Explained Daphne.

Smara hissed in anger. “ I knew there was something wrong with that rat! I could never place the taste. Of course he smelled more rat than man!”

Harry was in shock to hear that so much had happened while he was away and he could do nothing to help, cut him to the quick.
“Is everyo-” Harry started before Hermione cut him off.

“Everyone is fine Harry. they're all out of St Mungo’s now, as there were no lasting injuries. But the ministry suspects that Pettigrew is still in the area and Fudge has — well.” Hermione said before Daphne finished.

“Fudge is being an obtuse fool. He has come out and said that he will be stationing DEMENTORS around the castle. For “the protection of the next generation of wizards and witches”. Total shite those things will attack a student the first chance they get. Kids. Children the younger the better are like CANDY to those creatures.“ Daphne said with uncharacteristic anger and most surprisingly she swore. Daphne was usually the one with Hermione opposing the use of such language.

“Dementors. I've heard that before. But where?” And Harry stood racking his brain. “Toppy!” And the elf popped in “you called master? I is not being able to stay long, Dobby is still quite delicate, sir.”

“Oh no. Sorry toppy, go back , I just remembered something.” and the elf popped out just as quickly as he came.

“When Toppy took me to Godric's Hollow to visit my parents' grave, he very quickly grabbed me before we found the grave site and popped me away saying someone who reeked of dementors was approaching us. When I asked him he just said they were evil.”

“He's not wrong!” Said Hermione. “Dementors are among the most foul creatures to exist in this world. Unnatural abominations that delight in despair and hopelessness and devour a person's every happy memory they have. If given the chance Dementors will latch their jaws on a victim and feast on their very soul
They ARE evil Harry. And for Fudge to willingly subject Children to them in the name of our Protection!“ Hermione was once again unable to finish her thought but this time out of rage.

”That's too stupid, even for him. I guarantee he's being paid off by someone to do this. My father agrees but he doesn't know who, or why.” Daphne explained.

“Soooo, why risk it then? Asked Harry.

”Because dementors exclusively go after humans. if the dementors sense anything like a human near them that's not supposed to be they will attack.” his buck toothed friend supplied. ”If Petigrew does stick around, which I don't think he will, those things know to look for a subhuman rat. They’d find him.” Said Hermione sadly but firmly.

Hermione stepped up to Harry calmly and wrapped him in a gentle hug. “I missed you” she mumbled into his shirt. “We haven't gone that long in between talking ever. We have to find a way to talk between long distances and magical interference, And you must tell us what you've been doing over in Mexico!
And oh my, you've tanned!” Said Hermione blushing.

Harry laughed and examined the dark skin on his arms. “Yea Mr Chemalli and the king were slave drivers. Had me and Smara doing laps every morning and night in the badlands. But before that did either of you see the daily profit this morning?” After both shook their heads Harry picked up the paper and started to read the headline.

“Nicolas Flammel and wife murdered.

This morning after an explosion rocked the quiet streets of Paris’ magical quarter, French aurors found the bodies of the famed alchemist and longtime wife in the rubble. Examinations of the bodies lead the investigators to suspect murder. The couple's famous alchemy lab was pillaged and several expensive artifacts were taken. No readable magical signatures were found.”
Harry looked at the two girls waiting for them to connect the dots as he did.

“Dumbledore?” Hermione said in question.

“That was my assumption. But why he killed them I have no idea after the events with Quirrelmort he told me that the stone got destroyed. And he wasn't trying to kill me then so I don't know if he would have any motive to lie about it.” Said Harry.

“Maybe he's trying to remake the stone? We can't know for sure. Sadly I don't think we will know what he's planning until he puts whatever it is into action. Petigrew is the current biggest threat right now. So why don't you distract us by telling us your final grades and about your training in Mexico?” Hermione supplied.

“Well I'm the top student! Number one it said. And I got into all the classes I signed up for” said Harry nonchalantly.

“Ohh! That would explain the “.A” I got on my paper. I received the number one spot in class as well but I had an A next to it. Did you get a B?” Asked Hermione.

“Yuuup”

“Then we tied! Excellent Harry, I am so proud of you!”

“And I of you hermione!” Harry smiled

“Yes yes, we're all quite happy Harry isn't a complete pillock.” Said Daphne with false exasperation.

“So onward to my time in Mexico yea?” With both of their affirmations Harry went on to describe the wonderful sights and sounds of Teotihuacan. Of meeting the true King of serpents. And learning secrets of their lineage and culture that no European had ever been taught. Learning some of the true gifts of parseltongue and learning how to guide and control magic with the gift of snake magic.

“I've been reading Slytherin’s books and writing. And compared to the Aztec, Slytherin was a rank Ametuer! A dabbler and nothing more. There's some things in his Magnum Opus that he says. Details, the true power of serpent magic. But it's only a fraction of what the jaguar warriors are taught.

Did you know he never found an elder serpent and learned under them? Most of the stuff Parsel magic does can only be known, shared, or taught by an elder serpent. He sought to create his own elder that's why he created Smara but most of what he “discovered” was nothing more than parlor tricks used to scare his enemies.

“Kathas-shhhha reigg!” Harry hissed and held out his hand, his fingers clutched like he was carrying a ball. And suddenly an orb of pure light filled his hand that he then threw onto the ceiling of his apartment where it stuck on the spot it hit filling his apartment with light just like a muggle fluorescent bulb. “Kathasha reigg. Reigg is light and Kath is ball or orb; you all hear kathas-sha reigg but I'm saying form a ball of light, and since my focus is my hand, my hand is filled with a ball of light. The master said eventually I'll be able to point to a spot and the light will coalesce where my attention is.

Parseltongue is a primordial language that affects the very being of nature to a degree that a crude imitation language like Latin can barely allude to.” After that explanation Harry snapped and the light faded. “It does however take a good amount of magic energy as I don't use a wand to focus. The master says that as experience increases and my will sharpens it won't cost as much but I forgot it's pretty exhausting. I'll probably not use it unless I have to for now.“

“You can tell the difference now!” Hermione picked up. “You used to not be able to tell if you were speaking Parseltongue or English.“

“Yea the master had me sit and converse with him without blinking for days until I mastered hearing it. He broke my spine 3 times because I blinked my eyes without permission. Something about the eye contact with an elder sharpening my snake instinct. Or something like that. When he didn't talk in parseltongue he spoke in nahuatl. Which is a non magic imitation of parseltongue and no matter what language he spoke in he spoke in rhymes and riddles. Things I had to decipher and think about as he spoke. To a point I understand all that he taught but being able to explain it in a way that makes sense in English is very difficult.” Harry explained easily.

“The serpent could speak a human language?” asked Daphne bewildered.

“The master’s kind ruled over 5 different empires of men, the Aztec being the most recent. Establishing a line of communication was necessary. So yeah, he could.“

An echo “that's amazing” came at Harry from two sides followed by a shared giggle. The sound was very pleasant to Harry after so long of not seeing either of his female friends.

By the time Harry had finished catching his friends up on his summer, several hours had passed and it was nearing lunch so Harry suggested they take the pureblood princess out for a spot of muggle fish and chips. Which both girls agreed to. It was just lucky enough that Daphne's personal style was just modern enough to classify as vintage goth. Her slightly poofy knee length black and green dress, and matching corset along with her thigh high stocking and thick boots would not be too out of place in muggle fashion. So the group had a nice lunch discussing either of the girls' summers and what to do with the rest of the day.

____________________________________

Harry was eating breakfast with Dora as he had come to call his older cousin. He had just received two very odd letters and Dora had received one as well. When she read the letter it said that she was officially inducted into “The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black”. His cousin practically jumped through the floo heading for her parents‘ house. The first of Harry's letters was from Gringotts Bank informing him that he had been named the official Heir of “The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black”. Harry had to steel himself from following his cousin. He was a Lord, he knew he had to start acting like it. He had avenues of knowledge besides his aunt. Who most likely had received a letter as well and was about as emotionally freaked out as her daughter had been.

‘What kind of pretentious dandy addresses their house like that.’ Harry thought. Harry knew his family was just as if not older than the Blacks and they didn't have some ridiculous introduction title in front of their house name. Not even in their official seal. Harry noticed a small letter fall from behind the letter in somewhat familiar scratchy handwriting.

“Lord Potter,

Please excuse the pretentious nature of my family‘s, our family‘s, self important title. Striking the jinx that makes it possible not to address the family as “The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black” has been trickier than I thought and I haven't had time to devote to it.

My family really were a bunch of dandies.

P.S. I'm sorry I can't meet you in person yet as I'm sure you can sympathize, getting an entire house back to rights after years of non or mismanagement is a grueling and time consuming task, I've not left Gringotts in a week.
Lord Sirius Black”

Harry snorted at that. ‘Apparently we have a similar sense of humor.’

The next letter was a great surprise as it was from Snape.

“Lord Potter

Due to your aptitude for potions I wanted to invite you to have the chance to regularly assist me in brewing the wolf's bane potion this year following and further streamlining the brewing process as well as the recipe we worked on before the end of term. You need not reply to this letter. Give me your answer at your first class.
S. Snape“

Harry had every intention of continuing those sessions if Snape was offering. After researching the plight of the werewolves of the country during the last Potions classes last year, he had told Andromeda to plant an excess of the ingredients for wolfsbane. Come time to harvest Harry was going to donate the ingredients to St Mungo’s with the provision that they be used to brew the wolfsbane potion and that the potions are given out freely to werewolves across the nation.

Term was still a week out and it was already shaping up to be an interesting year. Without much to do or things that preoccupied his time, Harry flooded over to Blackstone Manor. Lately he had been wanting to explore and further catalog what was in his family's blood safe. So he found his way down to the creepy catacombs filled with blood red light — emanating from the body turned ward stone of Garland Potter, the first Lord Potter. Harry was as always entranced by the grotesque sight.

“Hello Lord Potter.” Said a familiar bored drawl behind him. “You have been gone for quite some time.”

“Yeah, well, school you know and then I went to Mexico to be trained under a master of Parselmagic.
One of these days you're going to have to tell me if you're alive or not. You don't act like a regular portrait and the house's magic speaks in your voice.”

“One of these days, Lord Potter, you are going to have to figure it out on your own.” The portrait said with a snarky grin that Harry assumed ran in the family. ”Now tell me why you are here? Deposit? Withdrawal?”

“Neither, just curiosity, mainly; I want to know what some of these things are, give myself something to do before school starts.”

“These are not toys to be played with, child! These are highly dangerous magical artifacts tha-!”

“I know! I'm not going to play with them. Not unless you tell me they're safe to touch. Like that.” Harry pointed to a golden orb with weird symbols all over it. “What is that?”

“If my memory serves me well and it should I have an eidetic Memory. That orb was recovered from the fortress of Azkaban after the defeat of Herpo the Foul. It is not known how it works, only that it was used to keep the man's test subjects docile before he invented dementors to destroy the human soul, leaving a placid shell behind. The notes before they were destroyed simply referred to it as “the apple”.”

“And what about this?” Harry gestured to a staff made of a greenish black metal with glowing emeralds in the crown of the staff.

“That is the staff of Ramesses. Recovered from his tomb by your sixth great uncle who was one of the first curse breakers at Gringotts. The green sapphires are incomplete Philosopher’s Stones and can leach the life force of a victim into the holder, prolonging his life. So long as he holds it. You can guess how Ramesses died.”

”See now that's fascinating! I can actually see why that's down here. What is that model pyramid with the giant diamond?”

“That is not a model pyramid. That is the capstone to the pyramid of Khufu.”

Harry blinked humbly at that, not knowing what that was.

“The pyramid of Khufu is the largest pyramid in Egypt. The big one. At Giza!” The portrait was practically yelling in exasperation.

“OHHHHH! Okay. I didn't know it had a name.”

“Well what's it doing here.” Harry asked.

“That is actually rather personal. As I was the one to retrieve it when I was in my thirties. Right now it is inert, completely dead. It is nearly gold and diamond. But let it soak up the sun and the enchantments activate. Slaves built Giza! Tell me how better to easily motivate an entire slave class to build the greatest city known to man at the time! That thing sitting in the sun will project an aura of control over an area of over one million square miles. That thing is the reason the Egyptian empire was able to rise! And Giza being buried in the desert is the reason Egypt fell.

On and on this went, Harry learning the lost history of the artifacts his family had stored here. And Harry wrote down what he learned about them on cards to be left by the artifact. Soaked in the stories of past Potters and past family glories. Learning his family history was as good a way as any to spend an afternoon.

____________________________________

Harry sat in the garden at the Burrow. The entire Weasley clan was there to celebrate another year of Hogwarts along with the Grangers and Tonks and to celebrate Percy making headboy and Harry's special services medal. Both badges were on proud display on either of the boys‘ sweaters.

“So Harry, have you decided if you're going to come with us to Hogwarts or ride the train, dear?” Missus Weasley asked.

“ Oh! Hermione and I decided to take the train actually. It just wouldn't feel right not riding it.“

“Ahh well, do be careful, Percy of course has to go on the train but the rest of this brood decided to come with me to Hogwarts and have a lie in.” Said Missus Weasley.

“So, Andy! Hermione said that Harry told her that you and your family have been reinstated back into your birth family. What's that like.” Asked Emma Granger which got everyone's attention, so all the side conversations stopped for the time being.

“Completely foreign and yet all too familiar. To be cast out of your family is not just your parents no longer talking to you. Not that speaking to my parents was an option anymore anyway, both caught dragon pox a number of years ago and passed on far too late to do anyone any good. For a magical to be cast out of their house, their family magic is stripped away, I felt like a stranger in my own skin for years afterward. I even had to get a new wand as my old one stopped responding to me.“

“Does that make you any weaker? Magically speaking?” Asked Hermione.

“No, it doesn't affect your magical strength at all. But it can affect the nature of your magic. How your magic feels inside you. Many disowned magicals can't cope and….. well that's a topic for a time when you're older. Just know to have my family magic back it's like, like, walking into your family home for the first time after a long time away combined with a warm bath after spending hours in the cold.” Explained Andromeda.

“Even I felt like I was entering home and I've never even been attached to the family magic. I have noticed that my control of my metamorph powers is finer though, I haven't tried nearly as often as I used to.” Said Dora gamely.

“When will I get to meet him?” Harry wondered out loud.

“Soon I expect, he wouldn't stop asking about you.” Dora laughed.

Hermione spoke up after a few minutes. “Has there been any luck finding Pettigrew?” She directed her words at Dora but it was clear that she was asking anyone who might know.

“Nope, I'm afraid there hasn't been any sign. The dementors will be arriving at the school in a few days and will search the school, grounds, and forest. Before the term starts. After that they'll be kept off the grounds, patrolling the ward line and the village.

The aurors had to sweep the forest last month. Did you know that?
Did you know that that great beast of a man, Hagrid, was apparently sponsoring an entire colony of acromantula in there? The centaurs finally had enough of them encroaching on their territory and actually messenged the committee for the disposal of dangerous beasts about them. Good they did too because when we showed up, a not small group of adult acromantula were attacking the centaurs‘ village. It took the entire department to clear out the king spider, Aragog. Apparently, according to Hagrid. It was the size of an ELEPHANT; no one even knew they could get that big. There were the remains of 5 centaurs in the webs as well. Hagrid was fined ten thousand galleons for gross negligence but wasn't charged with anything else, the spiders steered clear of the school because of Hagrid.
The ministry made a killing on the reclaimed venom and the silk they could extract from the spiders. And other potion ingredients.”

“Yea! I wonder if I can get some acromantula eyes! Would they still be fresh, you think? There's a potion that needs a quart of fresh acromantula eye juice. It's the only potion known that can fix your vision. It's normally outrageously expensive.” Harry said excitedly.

“Sorry Harry, wouldn't know, you'll have to go talk to Cyrus Greengrass, he's contracted to sell stuff like that for the ministry. I wouldn't know. Personally I've had my fill of any spider related juices for the next 100 years.”

”Ugh!” A chorus came from around the table followed by jovial laughter. At the end of the night Dora separated Harry from everyone else to have a private word.

Upon getting him alone, she pulled out a slim wand box and opened it, revealing the dust colored oddly knobbly wand that had once belonged to Dumbledore. “Harry, this wand. Was it Dumbledore’s?” She asked gently.

Harry nodded. “Yea when I, when I cut his arm off it sort of flew to me and before I went to stay at the Burrow I just kinda chucked it in the furnace.”

“Yea that's where I found it. Well I say found. Harry, someone broke into the Furnace this morning. I walked in on them right when the guy, some German bloke, started celebrating finding it. I stunned him and had him arrested, of course, but Harry. You need to hide this if people are breaking in trying to find it. It needs to be hidden. I know you're going to the Grangers’ house to ride with them to King’s Cross. But how about I stop you by Blackstone and you can hide it in the Potter blood safe.”

“Yeah . Yeah that's probably for the best. Let's go tell the Grangers I need to make a pitstop at the manor and I'll meet them at their house.”

____________________________________

Deep in the bowels of Blackstone Manor, Harry entered his family's secret repository.

“Back again so soon, Lord Potter.”

“Good day, Garland.”

“What is it you need, young Lord? You have the face of a seeker today, not an asker.”

“I'm looking for a place where I can hide something. So that not even a summoning charm can charm.

“Move my portrait” Garland said, all sarcasm suddenly gone from his voice. Upon Harry pulling Garland‘s portrait to the side a medium sized safe was revealed. A safe with no handle, no keyhole, no spinner for a combination, or any conceivable way to open it. “It will cost a bit of pain. The safe needs Potter blood to open it.” Garland's voice called out. Harry didn't hesitate to use his wand to cast a small cutting charm on his palm and open the safe.

As the door swung open, it revealed a largely empty safe. The only other item in the safe was a gaudy gold ring that looked like a snake with a purple gem. It had a tag surprisingly.

“Serpent of Indra. Looted from the temple of Indra during “the Indians mutiny” in 1855. Has caused the death of 37 muggle owners and has possessed 3 magicals with “the spirit of Indra” . It was utterly mad when I encountered it in possession of the body of a man named Heron-Allen.
-ring refuses destruction. DO.NOT.WEAR.”

Harry, thinking back to the diary, muttered to himself. “Hmm, something for another time.” Harry placed the wand in its box on another shelf and placed a card he had previously filled out over it.

“Strange wand once belonged to Albus Dumbledore. Older still? Needs research, please do not touch.”

Then Harry closed the safe. Said farewell to his ancestor. And Dora took him to the Grangers for one more sleepover before summer ended.

Chapter Text

With tearful farewells and well-wishes exchanged between parent and child, or aunt and nephew in Harry's case, and a few minutes remaining before the train's departure, Harry and Hermione entered and used Levitation Charms to stow their large trunks in the luggage compartment as silently as possible, so as not to disturb the strange man with whom they were riding. The two teens sat together, Harry updating Hermione on Dobby's continued improvement. When less than a minute remained before the Hogwarts Express departed, Ron sprinted onto the train. Breathing hard and loudly, he ran into their compartment as the train lurched, and with great effort, hoisted his trunk into the luggage rack as loudly as possible, causing Hermione to hiss, "Ron!" between her teeth while gesturing to the sleeping man also causing the stranger to grunt and shift before settling back down.

Looking at the man in their compartment, Harry saw something that slightly sickened and worried him. The stranger had a gaunt and starved appearance that Harry recognized all too quickly. The man had sandy-brown hair and sickly pale skin, adorned with several jagged scars. The man seemed to favor shades of brown in his clothing: he was wearing a patched and frayed sandy-brown overcoat instead of robes, an oak-colored sweater vest that had been darned in several places over a light-tan shirt, and pants that matched his vest. Oddly enough, his shoes and leather belt, while not new, were shining, well-cared for, and expertly polished.

“What's he doing here?” Ron asked quietly.

“Professor R. J. Lupin, Oh! He's the man you mentioned. In your letter that-.” Said Hermione.

“Yea! But I wonder what he's doing on the train? They can't suspect Pettigrew is here

“Maybe he had business in London and decided to take the trainHarry. He looks exhausted, maybe he just wasn't up for the floo I've never seen an adult on the train aside from the old lady with the food cart” said harry. “Here, let me do something so we don't disturb him. He looks like this is the first bit of sleep he's had in a week. And Harry pulled out four ceramic coins, each with a runic array carved into them. "Silencing tokens," Harry whispered, surrounding the man as best he could. "Charge them up, and you'll create a barrier that doesn't allow sound in or out for about an hour. Ted bought them as a going-back-to-school present. Very useful for studying in the loud common rooms or having large study sessions in the library." Harry poked each coin with his wand, and the runes on the coins began to glow faintly for a few seconds before seemingly going dormant again.

"So that's how the upper years are always so quiet in the library even though they all roughhouse worse than us," asked Ron, astonished.

"It seems so. I had never heard of or even thought of how they did that. I just figured they used silencing charms, but no, apparently—" said Harry before Hermione cut him off excitedly.

"That's not how silencing charms work. I was reading about them in *Diminishing Distractions* during the summer. Silencing spells are moderately advanced spells, not normally taught or capable of being cast before fifth or sixth year. No matter what silencing spell you use, or what its strength, they all simply negate all noise within the caster's target area, making all conversations impossible." She said this very fast, in one breath.

As the train left the station and city, Hermione seemed to jump in realization. “Ron, what are you doing here? I thought your family was already at Hogwarts!”

“Well, yeah? But you wouldn't expect me to let my best mate ride the train with only you and Smara as company; the poor bloke would be outsmarted and outnumbered. Now he's only outsmarted.” The three teenagers laughed, and their conversation changed topic as the hours passed. From Ron hoping his chosen classes of Care of Magical Creatures and Divination would be easy, to Hermione launching into a tirade about the current state of the Muggle Studies textbook, which was well over one hundred years behind the times. She had seen Daphne's book over the summer; it stated that the last great Muggle invention was a primitive camera known as a tintype, which magicals adapted into the camera they still use to make moving pictures. As the hours passed, spotty weather alternately shrouded the train in rain or sunshine. Many friends and classmates passed by or stopped to say hello, but no one, not even Malfoy, lingered long with an adult in the compartment. Malfoy stayed just long enough to hurl his usual pathetic and ineffective insults at Harry and Hermione.

When the woman with the trolley came by, Harry made sure to grab more than enough so that the professor could have a cake or pastry if he wanted one if he woke up. He looked like he needed it. It wasn't until they passed into a thick, dark fog bank a few hours from Hogwarts that things got truly interesting.

____________________________________

With a grinding, groaning lurch, the train stopped suddenly and dislodged many trunks, including Harry's, which he barely managed to catch with a levitation charm before it smashed into the still-sleeping teacher's head. Suddenly, the temperature plummeted, the fog grew thicker, and the windows, wet from the day's rain, froze over in seconds.

A thick fog collected on the inside of the window. Ron wiped away the fog from the glass and peered outside the train as best he could through the thin layer of ice that had formed on the glass. "There's something moving out there. In the mist. Coming closer. I think something's getting on the train." Just then, the lights on the train flickered and died, plunging them all into an eerie darkness. The only light coming into the train now was from the sun, dimmed to near-unbelievable levels by the thick rain clouds and the fog that surrounded them. With a sudden and loud clatter, their compartment door opened, and someone crashed into and on top of Harry, their hand planted on his face. He couldn't make out who it was, just the silhouette of a student and the faint scent of something floral.

"Ow! Get off!" Harry firmly but gently pushed the person off.

“Sorry, Harry, I didn’t see you there. I was trying to get into a compartment. Something is trying to open the door to the train. Are you okay?”

“Ginny? It’s alright. I’m fine. Are you okay?”

“Yes, what’s going o-owww!” Their compartment door opened again, and Ginny was pushed back on top of Harry when someone collided with her upon entering.
“Ow!” they said in unison.

“Who’s there?”

“Neville. Who’s there?”

“Ginny, you knocked me over.”

“Sorry, Ginny, what’s going on? Why is everything gone all dark—”

“QUIET!” The irritated voice of an adult filled the cramped compartment. “Settle down, please. Have a seat. I don’t believe there is any reason to shout or panic,” the man said. Once they were all seated, he gazed around at them and seemed to focus on Harry longer than the rest, something Harry was used to by this point, being the Boy Who Lived. “Good. Now, if you would, all of you, please sit and stay here. I’ll be right back. Do not leave this compartment. I need to have a word with the driver,” the new teacher said in a far kinder voice than before, as he quickly drew his wand and left the compartment. Harry looked down and saw that in the scuffle, the runestones had been displaced. He quickly pocketed them so they wouldn’t get damaged.

“What do we do now?” Neville whined.

“I don’t know. Just stay here, I suppose. No matter what he said, he drew his wand to walk down the train. Whatever is on board can’t be too friendly.” So they sat there, waiting nervously for a few minutes. Ginny was on his right, and Hermione was to his left, by the window, staring through the compartment door and out into the hall as best she could, as all the windows had fogged over in the cold.

“What is that?” Hermione pointed a finger at the frosted door of their compartment. A large shadow fluttered by, slowly, before stopping and filling the frosted glass with a stark black shadow.

“A k-kid, y-you think?” Ron stuttered.

Just then, the door popped open slowly, a few inches at first, and the air dropped several more degrees as their breath started to fog more noticeably. He could barely make out the invader in the dark, but he did see its hand. It was cold, gray, and slimy-looking, like something dead that had been in the water for too long. He didn’t try very hard to see it more clearly as a hooded figure slowly entered the compartment. Who really cares about whatever that thing is when there is a deep, hollow pain pervading his entire being?

Harry had felt this pain before, many times.

Harry remembered the time his uncle Vernon had been reprimanded at work for making a crude joke and causing a client to stall a contract. Vernon came home and took his frustration out on Harry, beating the ten-year-old so badly that Harry tripped over a chair in the kitchen and broke it. Vernon then beat him with the broken chair after picking up the old wooden thing and smashing it over Harry's back. But it had never been the physical pain that hurt the most; it was the deep ache in his heart that called out for a love he had never known.

Harry remembered a nine-year-old boy who had spent twelve hours in the sun pruning his aunt's garden in the summer heat, only to be locked out of the house without food and with only hose water to drink for six days until it rained and Harry was clean of mud.

The time when an eight-year-old Piers Polkiss held Harry down while Dudley and the rest of his gang used hands, feet, and sticks to beat the emaciated boy into unconsciousness. All he had wanted to do was play kickball with his cousin.

The subsequent visions were no longer real, nor were they clear. Instead, they appeared as if seen through heavily tinted and fogged glasses.

Harry felt the unloving isolation that came from being locked in his small cupboard for two weeks with only two bags of crisps and a few bottles of water while the Dursleys vacationed for Dudley’s seventh birthday. Then came the beating when they opened the cupboard to find that the tiny, frail Harry had soiled the ground after he could no longer hold his bladder.

The soul-shattering realization that his relatives hated him and wished him dead followed. After a six-year-old Harry had woken up, beaten and bloody, in so much pain he could not breathe, he was dropped behind the back garden shed like trash, covered in snow, after he had dared to ask why he didn't get any Christmas presents.

The feel of Uncle Vernon's belt against his three-year-old back after he'd summoned the television remote. This vision was even more dim and dark, like reading a book by moonlight.

Now, there was no vision anymore, no sight, just the horrific sound of a woman screaming. A woman screaming over distant blasts and bangs and fumbling footsteps running up wooden stairs. A woman belting out loud, bloodcurdling, pleading screams. “Not Harry, please, please, I'll do anything, please—”

A man's voice cut through the darkness, a dark hiss in the gloom.

“Stand aside, you foolish girl. You and your husband fought hard enough, but it is over. You've lost. You have neither the hand nor the wand necessary to defeat me.”

“Not Harry, please, not Harry, please, I'll do anything, please—”

Then, suddenly, a blinding flash of green light, a dull thump, and mind-numbing, earth-shattering, life-ending pain.

And Mommy wouldn't wake up to make it go away.

Everything ended—no lights, no sound, no Mommy.

No Mommy ever again.

Mommy.
____________________________________

Harry was lying on something hard, but his head felt elevated and was lying on something very soft and warm. There was a slight weight on his chest, connected to him in a way nothing else was. Smara. Voices surrounded him, but he could not make them out yet. His mind felt sluggish, and his eyelids were too heavy to lift. He focused on the voices, willing them to make sense, but gave up quickly. His body was still asleep, even though his head was becoming more alert.

“Smara,” Harry thought, cringing at the resulting headache.

“Small one! Are you hurt? Are you injured?”

“No, I believe I’m fine. What happened?”

“I am weary of the details. I’m afraid the sudden cold shocked my system. I was catatonic until a little while ago when your friends put me on your chest to share your warmth. Awaken, youngling, we shall get our answers together.” After a few minutes, Harry finally managed to open his eyes. The first thing he saw was the underside of a girl's chest, clad in a green argyle sweater vest. He let out a groan, drawing the attention of the girl he was apparently using as a pillow and the people on the benches around him. The girl he was lying on looked down, revealing her identity to be Daphne.

“Hey, Daphne. You look different from down here,” Harry said in a weak and drowsy voice, winning a very unladylike snort from the usually prim and proper pure-blood princess.

“Don’t be a pervert, Harry. Of course I look different from that angle.” But she didn’t attempt to dislodge Harry. “How are you feeling?” This was echoed by Hermione, who had knelt on the ground beside him.

“I feel fine. What happened?”

“You fainted,” a cool and calm voice said, drawing everyone’s attention to the left of the compartment. He must have read the emotions on Harry’s face accurately: worry, shame, and fear.

“Don’t feel ashamed, Harry. You weren’t the only one to faint. Miss Granger woke up about twenty minutes ago, and Miss Lovegood is currently eating the trolley’s entire stock of chocolate frogs. I have some for you as well, Honeydukes’ finest. Eat it; it will help, I promise.”

Harry, taking a large bite of the chocolate and feeling a soul-refreshing warmth spread through him, asked, "What was that thing? Why did everything go dark and quiet? And why do I remember screaming?"

"That, Harry, was a dementor, one of the dementors of Azkaban prison. They boarded the train, claiming to be searching for Pettigrew. They ran off once I introduced them to a certain spell and sent them packing; however, that's not the point; they were not supposed to be near the train. The foul creatures knew that Pettigrew wasn't on the train. Children are a delicacy to them, and they could not resist the temptation, it seems. Now that they know adults are on this train and will fight them, they won't be back.”

Harry, still feeling quite embarrassed by his fainting spell, did not say anything, choosing instead to stare at the roof of the compartment, partially obstructed as it was. Harry remained like this in silent contemplation until Daphne begged off and left for the lavatory. It was only two more hours until the train reached Hogsmeade station, with the now-familiar call of "First years, over here, first years!" that came from the mountain of a man and Harry's first friend, Hagrid.

“Heya Hagrid!” called Harry as he made his way to the carriages with Hermione, Ron, and Daphne.

"Heya Harry! Summer alright?" returned the groundskeeper.

Harry opened the door to the carriage and helped the girls inside before calling back, "Very busy! I'll tell you more about it later." He waved at the giant man before entering the carriage, giving a sidelong glance to the ethereal, skeletal horse that pulled their carriage. After sitting down, Smara slithered over to Daphne and filled the space with soft hisses.

"I hope you don't mind me coming with you back to the serpents' nest, youngling. I wish to return to my home, and it is fastest there," Harry translated.

"Of course you can come with me; the snake pit is always open to you, Smara. Not even Draco would dare to bar you." Smara hissed happily and burrowed under the neckline of Daphne's robes.

"I swear, sometimes she acts like a thousand-year-old reptile, and then other times she acts like an overly excited squirrel," said Harry, rolling his eyes at his partner's antics.

Hermione spoke up after laughing at Harry. "I do hope they have that delectable baked sea bass that was added to the leaving feast last year." And so sat Ron, Hermione, and Daphne, talking about the merits and demerits of Hogwarts cooking, which left Harry out of the conversation. Harry, having grown up starved and malnourished, had grown to eat and love all food and couldn't contribute much of a critical palate to the conversation, which suited him just fine as he enjoyed the back-and-forth between the three of his friends.

As the group entered the hall with a stream of other students, they heard the familiar, thick Scottish brogue of an irritated Professor McGonagall.

“Mr. Potter! Excuse me, but I would like you and everyone who was in your compartment to come to the hospital wing for a quick examination. We must make sure there are no lingering effects from those foul monsters' attack.”

“But, Headmistress, I wanted to watch my sister get sorted,” said Daphne hesitantly.

“Not to worry, we will be examining a number of first years as well. No, your sister is not one of them. The Sorting has been postponed.” The Headmistress smiled and, after gathering Neville, Ginny, and Luna, led them to the hospital wing. It was another twenty minutes before all the students were given a clean bill of health, but Harry and Luna were both ordered to load their dessert plates with as much chocolate as possible.

It was close to ten o'clock when the school was finally gathered, settled, and leaning forward with bated breath for the Sorting Hat’s new song. With a slow tear, a wide hole opened above the brim of the hat to form a mouth, and out rang the sorting Hat's new song:

“Step right up, and don't you fret,
The Sorting Hat's on stage, all set.
At Hogwarts School, your journey starts,
With houses waiting, and open hearts.

Gryffindors brave, they'll never yield,
Their courage shines in every field.
If ambition is your guiding light,
In Slytherin, you'll find your might.

Ravenclaws wise, with minds so keen,
For seekers of knowledge, it's a dream.
And Hufflepuff, where love's embraced,
With patience and kindness, perfectly placed.

So, place me on, and close your eyes,
I'll find your house without disguise.
Each house holds wonders and magic untold,
Welcome to Hogwarts, where stories unfold.”

Harry then tuned out the rest of the Sorting, only clapping when he heard Astoria Greengrass be sorted into Ravenclaw. A glance at Daphne revealed that she was pleased with the sorting. The headmistress, breaking from tradition, instead just held her hands above her head and clapped to signal the start of the feast. After dinner was consumed and every last morsel of chocolate devoured by the student body, the headmistress stood up to address the school. As Harry waited, he finally turned his attention to the head table. There was Hagrid, the massive gamekeeper, always the first one he saw, and he was having a whispered conversation with Professor Snape. Vector, Sinistra, and Molly Weasley were all chattering, looking backward occasionally at Professor Lupin, who waved at Harry when their eyes met. Next to Lupin was a man Harry didn't recognize, with thin, pale skin, thick, long, windswept dark hair, and a rugged beard. He was talking to Flitwick and Pomona Sprout.

“There, I can see we are all nice and happy, finally able to enjoy another wonderful feast together, especially after such a harrowing and unacceptable episode you experienced on the train.

Before we proceed with further school announcements, there is something I must cover while I have your attention.

For those of you unaware of the creatures that visited the school train, let me tell you and give you a fair warning: those creatures were Dementors—some of the darkest and most foul creatures inhabiting this world. They are here at the Minister’s request and are searching for a known dangerous criminal believed to be in the area. They are tasked with patrolling the border and school grounds but will not enter the school unless given permission. Please understand that it is not in the nature of a Dementor to respond to pleas or screams for mercy, and they cannot be fooled by potions, disguises, or even Invisibility Cloaks. So I beg each and every student here not to give them any cause to harm you.

Now, on to more uplifting announcements. The list of banned items has been expanded again by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to include fanged frisbees and even bashing boomerangs. He has also asked me to remind you that bubotubers and mimbulus mimbletonia are banned from all interior corridors.

As stated last year, Professor Kettleburn has retired, and Professor Hagrid has taken over the class. His expertise should aid your mastery of the subject and understanding of the subtle differences between violent monsters and misunderstood magical creatures. An auditor from the Department of Education will be here for the first month to ensure a smooth start to the class.

Next, Professor Snape has started an extracurricular Potions class for fourth-years and above that will meet every Saturday. Sign-up sheets will be on the notice boards in your common rooms. Harry looked at Snape, who seemed to be waiting for his response. The man simply nodded and swung his gaze to Hermione, nodding again.

“Finally, we have our last new staffing change as we welcome Professor Remus Lupin as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. However, due to an ongoing medical condition, we have hired an assistant for him; please welcome both Mister Remus Lupin and lord Sirius Black!”

Chapter Text

Harry's eyes fixed on the dapper-looking stranger. His strong chin was covered by rugged stubble, and his long, shiny black hair was pulled back into a loose bun. Even from a distance, Harry saw the man's intense silver eyes—they matched Andromeda's. Sirius Black smiled at him, nodded, and with a friendly smile and shooing motion, gestured as the students left the Great Hall. A shocked and silent Harry was guided out by Hermione, who pulled him by the arm. When Harry and his friends arrived at Gryffindor Tower and he realized he was being dragged into his dorm, he stopped and turned around, nearly walking back out of the portrait hole to find and speak to, or yell at, his godfather—Harry wasn't sure which he wanted to do more. It took Ron and the twins restraining him, and Hermione sitting fully on him, to stop him.

“Tomorrow, Harry, tomorrow we can track him down and talk to him, attack him, turn his hair fluorescent pink—if you want. But right now, you’ve been through a terrible ordeal. We all have, with those foul creatures fluttering about. Please, Harry, let’s go to bed,” begged Hermione. He resisted at first as she pushed him towards his four-poster, but with Harry’s eyes dragging, and his own growing apprehension about talking to his long-lost godfather, it didn’t take much to convince Harry to go to bed.

____________________________________

The next morning, Harry woke to the ringing of the mechanical alarm clock that the boys' dorm shared. Bleary-eyed and tousle-haired, he went through his morning ablutions with the rest of his dorm mates, having to endure Seamus and Dean excitedly talking about the release of the new Firebolt, a topic that lasted them all the way down, seven floors, to breakfast. He quickly found his way over to Hermione, who had already made his plate and was already eating her own chosen breakfast.

“Good morning, you two!” came a familiar voice from behind them as Daphne strode up and pushed Ron straight down the bench so she could sit next to Harry, causing a disgruntled and befuddled shout of “Hey!” from Ron as he lost his balance and fell to the floor. This made most of Gryffindor House and Daphne herself burst out laughing. “How are my favourite lions doing this morning? I just had to get away from Slytherin! Tori is driving me mad. Luckily, she's too shy to come over here.”

“We’re fine,” came an echoed call from the two Gryffindors. “I slept like the dead last night; after everything, I was exhausted,” said Harry after he swallowed his food. The two girls nodded in agreement. “It’s good she’s excited, though. I was a nervous wreck my first day.”

It was 30 minutes later when they all had their class schedules and were off to their first class. Transfiguration first thing in the morning was almost as good as Charms as a wake-up call. Students were always required to use their brains, and the class was loud, boisterous, and full of energy.

“This year in class, you will be focusing on mastering beginner transfiguration and starting intermediate-level spells. This will include complete switch visualization practice; the ability to complete a new transfiguration correctly the first time through internal visualization; cross-species switches, turning one animal into another, completely altering its behavior; and intra-material mediation—giving one material the properties of another, such as cushioning and hardening charms. We'll cover a few other things, but these are our main focuses. For the rest of class, I want you to read, or reread, the first chapter and write notes on it. There is no point in beginning more practical lessons on the first day of school.” Molly Weasley was definitely coming into her own as a teacher. She seemed happier and far less stressed this time around; a year of experience makes quite a difference, it seems.

Charms class afterward went very similarly: a quick rundown of the syllabus with explanations of the course aims, and then either reading the textbook or reviewing the practical side of the previous year's spells. Everything was going great the first day. Harry quickly learned that he enjoyed Ancient Runes a great deal. Sadly, his good mood was shattered directly after class when they ran into Ron on their way to Arithmancy.

“That flaking little toadstool!” cursed Ron. “He messed up Hagrid’s first class by insulting a hippogriff like an idiot and got a gash on his arm. Right in front of that Ministry auditor, too; just you wait, he’ll try to have Hagrid fired.”

“Who?”

“Who? Who?! Who else! Malfoy! The ignorant git.” Ron said, throwing his arms up in the air.

“Like hell, he’ll get Hagrid fired. Not if I have anything to say about it,” supplied Harry.

"Yeah, I—" A chime sounded through the halls. "Damn! That's the warning, and I still have to find the North Tower!" Ron ran off in search of his class, allowing Harry and Hermione to find their own way to Arithmancy. Harry stopped and watched when he heard Tracey Davis calling Ron; both then sprinted off.

Thirty minutes into the class, and Harry could already tell that Arithmancy was going to be a difficult class. The teacher, Professor Vector, was almost as unyielding as Professor Binns, except she stopped to answer questions. But they had already spent an entire class learning about the basic equations for arithmetic principles—and, to Harry, it was like speaking Chinese. The math formulas and equations weren't difficult to understand or follow, but the meaning behind everything and the process of knowing which numbers meant what was a terrible quagmire of uncertainty. When Harry asked for clarification on whether a 28, being split into seven, should signify rain or drought, the answer should not have been, "Yes!" Still, Harry assumed clarity would come as the classes advanced.

Afterwards, Harry and Hermione fled back to Gryffindor Tower to relax. It was only the first day back, but Harry already felt like a wrung-out sponge. He found a two-person couch and quickly plopped down onto it, stretching his back out as Hermione sat next to him and started pulling out her books.

“Oh, come off it, Hermione!” said Ron. “You can’t have homework already; it’s the first day.”

“Of course we don’t have any homework, Ronald, but both Harry and I had several questions in Arithmancy that had very confusing or complex answers. We need to study and get as much practice as we can with what we can understand, or we will fail.”

“I agree we need practice, but we won’t fail the course, Hermione. You definitely won’t; you’re the most brilliant person in this school. Probably only the teachers could outdo you now, and that probably won’t last longer than a year. Personally, I can’t wait to see what Professor Lupin will teach us.”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” asked Ron, and with Harry and Hermione shaking their heads, he explained. “Well, I met him over the summer, didn’t I? The twins and I stayed here quite a bit with Mum. He’s the one that helped us with the map and everything. Well, Lupin is a Dark creature expert. And, according to Percy, it is ‘the recommendation of the Ministry’s Educational Commission that third and fourth-year students be taught how to defend against Dark creatures and only move to wizard-versus-wizard defense once the students are more mature.’ The fact he actually speaks like that!” Ron said with an eye roll. “Anyway, according to Lupin, we’ll be focusing on Dark creatures, building on the stuff Lockhart started last year. Should be fun, I reckon.”

Harry, and to a lesser extent Hermione, looked excited about the prospect of increased practical classes.

The next morning saw a desolate start to the Gryffindors' day. Snape may have improved dramatically since their first year, but he was still a harsh and imposing teacher, and having Potions first thing in the morning saw many third-year Gryffindors not looking forward to the day. Harry and Hermione, not being among the downtrodden, sat at the breakfast table, poring over this year's Potions class, wondering just what potion he was going to start the year with.

They sat near Lavender Brown, who was talking to the Weasley twins, and Harry overheard part of their conversation.

“Come on, Lavender. You don’t want to deal with that slimeball this early, do you?” said Fred.

"Yeah! No sane person would look forward to two hours with the greasy pillick this early. One bite of this and you'll be out of classes for the rest of the day!" George finished, flourishing a small square taffy at her. "It's not toxic! It won't hurt you. Just surprise Madam Pomfrey long enough to get you a note out of class for the day."

"Well…" Lavender seemed to be really considering it, and Harry decided to step in when she started to reach for it.

"Evanesco," Harry said, pointing his wand at the small, taffy-looking object, causing it to disappear and George to yelp in surprise.

"Hey!" George and Fred called out together. "We worked two months developing that!"

Harry took a Galleon from his school bag and tossed it to Fred. "Test it yourself, then.”

“Five points to Gryffindor,” called a voice from behind Harry, which he was unfamiliar with. Turning around, Harry saw the handsome, dapper face of Sirius Black. “Honestly, I heard you two were pranksters. You should have more class than to test your inventions on anyone but yourselves. You’ll give hardworking, decent pranksters like the Marauders a bad name.” Sirius huffed before turning his attention to Harry. “Glad to see you’re not afraid to stand up for people, Harry, very much like both your parents, but especially your mother. She pulled the same move on me in our fifth year.” The black-haired man gave a roguish grin.

Harry stared; he didn’t know how to respond. Never had he been openly compared to his parents’ actions before. “Err, thanks, sir.” This elicited a small, sad smile from Sirius he gave a deep drawn out sigh Scratching The back of his head before speaking.

“In a different life, you’d never have called me ‘sir,’ and maybe in the future you won’t. But I know you’re busy—at some point, you could swing by Professor Lupin’s office after classes. There’s a lot I’d like to say to you.” He sighed and started to walk away before Harry’s call stopped him. “It’s nice to finally meet you! And I’ll swing by as soon as I can.” At least Harry had something to do on the weekend.

After breakfast and the prerequisite staring contest with the Slytherin students, they were let into Snape's class. The dour man let them in, and Harry was surprised to see the chairs and tables rearranged into pairs instead of rows of three.

"Don't sit down just yet. There are certain developments we need to discuss. To better assist struggling students, the Headmistress believes we should be pairing the top-performing students with the correspondingly lower-performing students. To those intelligent enough to follow simple directions, I apologize for the inevitable drop in your grades. I assure you this was not my idea." Harry was paired with Crabbe, Hermione with Goyle, Daphne with Neville, and Malfoy with Ron. A shouting match erupted between the latter pair in under three minutes, stopped only when Snape sent silencing charms at them.

"Cease your senseless bickering at once! You're both stuck with each other, so I suggest you find a way to get along. In fact, we can discuss it over detention tonight, after dinner. Ten points from both your houses, and if I hear so much as a raised voice from either of you, it will be fifty!

Now, if we're done barking at one another like dogs fighting over a meat bone, then we can get on with the lesson.”

Snape refused to let a double period go unproductively, and so the class reviewed ingredient preparation for the wit-sharpening potion most students brewed for the final exam the previous year. Harry learned that Goyle's failings in potions weren't actually from a lack of brainpower but a problem with his manual dexterity. Although the large boy wouldn't say as much, Harry suspected an unhealthy fear of sharp objects, for the boy all but refused to hold his ingredients still while cutting them. Harry solved this by taking the double period and teaching him a rather simple and easily broken sticking charm he had learned while in Mexico, "Ahuia." The last twenty minutes of class, after Goyle mastered the charm, were much smoother for their ingredient preparation.

Lunch that day was a chaotic affair as the Weasley twins set off a horde of extraordinarily malfunctioning fireworks. The Catherine wheels jolted in the air at random angles; the rockets flopped needlessly to the ground, only to spurt off in a random direction every few seconds. The firecrackers seemed to fuse with the dung bombs, unfortunately covering most of the Slytherin table with a heap of stinking fertilizer. The twins were caught and given three months' detention scrubbing the entire castle under Filch's watchful eye. The teachers were nice enough to only put Gryffindor back to zero points, and since the current leader, Ravenclaw, only had 30 points, they weren't that far behind. That didn't stop Harry, Hermione, or any other Gryffindor student from being put into fits of laughter by the twins' misfortune and admittedly wonderful (if it had worked) fireworks display.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron left the Great Hall as quickly as they could after finishing their meal, as did many other students. It was almost twenty minutes later when Professor Lupin and Mister Black arrived, ten minutes late.

Mister Lupin and Mister Black appeared to be dressed in complementary yet contrasting styles. Mister Lupin wore his usual shabby Muggle overcoat and a suit and waistcoat in shades of light and dark brown and tan. Mister Black, however, wore a black suede overcoat, a black suit, and a silk waistcoat with brown swirling patterns, and a light tan shirt. Both men wore expertly shined shoes, though Mister Lupin's were more lined and worn. The effect was intimidating. They made sure to tell the students not to underestimate one because of the other.

"Sorry, students, my apologies," Professor Lupin said, smiling and speaking in a soft and friendly tone. "Mister Black and I were tasked by the Headmistress to sort out the fireworks and subsequent mess in the Great Hall—an order I am quite sure was personally motivated." Sirius was snickering quietly. As he unlocked his classroom door and everyone filed in and found their seats (which were arranged in pairs and marked with names), Harry and Hermione sat together, Daphne was partnered with her friend Tracey Davis, and Ron with Neville.

"I would like to welcome you to Defence Against the Dark Arts. Or, as I will be referring to it for your year and my lower years, Dark Creature Defence. This year we will be learning new forms of defence against common 'dark' creatures, as well as some of the more rare ones. As a little taste of what we will be covering, I have a task that is quite difficult when done alone, but with such a large group of accomplished students, it should go rather easily and drive home an important lesson for everyone.”

This morning's staff meeting, MisterFilch complained of a boggart that had taken up residence in a cupboard in the teachers' lounge. I saw this as an opportunity to give my third-years some practice. Now, before we head over, who can tell me exactly what a boggart is? The professor spoke smoothly and clearly, as if he had been teaching for years rather than a single day. And, of course, Hermione was quickest with her hand, which shot up so fast Harry was almost surprised it didn't pop out of its socket. "Yes, Miss Granger?”

Hermione looked surprised and put off by his already knowing her name. “It’s a shapeshifter. When alone, no one knows what they look like, but when faced with a wizard, they take the form of what the person most fears,” she replied.

“Very good, Miss Granger, and can your partner tell us exactly what defeats fear?” He looked over to Harry and met his eyes to clarify who he was addressing.

“Err… Laughter?” said Harry, rather lamely, unsure of his response; he couldn’t quite remember that portion on boggarts from *Magical Creatures and Where to Find Them*.

“Very good, Harry. Laughter is what is needed to defeat a boggart. If you would all follow Mister Black and myself, we can continue in the staff room.” After a short journey down a floor, they entered and saw Snape sitting in a chair, reading calmly, blatantly ignoring the rattling, chained-up armoire in the corner. The dour potions master closed his book and made to leave before being waylaid by Lupin.

“Severus! Please, no reason to leave on our account; an extra wand is always welcome.”

"No, thank you, Lupin. I have no desire to watch this," Snape said before retreating, his black cloak billowing behind him.

"Well, more his loss, I suppose. Now let's continue. As I was saying in the classroom, laughter is the best weapon against a boggart. Now, most people cannot come up with a funny version of their own fears, and so I am now introducing you to a Muggle military concept: the concept of "battle buddies". In this class, you are partnered with a person you have been reported to get along with or work well with—not necessarily your friends, but someone you can work with and trust. Whenever you face a challenge in this class, you face it together. As such, I was hoping Mister Ronald Weasley and his battle buddy, Mister Neville Longbottom, would assist me with my little demonstration.”

As the two nervous third-years walked forward, the armoire rattled more intensely. Neville was shaking.

“Now, as I said, in order to defeat a boggart, you must laugh. So you will start us off; the charm you will need is “Riddikulus”.” It took about five minutes for the class to perfect it. “Good. Now, it’s a simple spell. Just imagine something to make your target funny and cast the spell at the boggart; it’s actually a form of transfiguration, so those with an affinity will have an easier time with it. Now, Neville will charm Ron’s fear and vice versa. It is always wise to tackle dark creatures, especially boggarts, at least as a pair; you can manage alone, but having a partner you trust at your back is a lot easier.”

“And safer. I still remember the one that Marlene McKinnon stumbled upon in that abandoned classroom on the fifth floor. Poor girl had been at it for nearly 10 minutes and was in a right state when Pe-a-a friend and I stumbled upon her. Every time she cast her spell, it transformed into another one of her fears and, well, with only one target to focus on, some of the more powerful boggarts can resist the Riddikulus charm. However, the more targets, the more agitated and confused they get until you’re left with something utterly nonsensical or just funny,” chimed in Sirius.

Lupin looked over at his assistant teacher and nodded in acquiescence. “Yes! I saw a boggart do that very thing; the creature got confused and turned itself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. Now, Neville, what is it that you most fear?”

“Me? I—I don't know! I'm scared of everything.”

“Just think deep down what your greatest fear or worry is,” supplied Lupin supportively. “Would it help if Sirius and I shared ours?” At Neville’s scared nod, they both continued.

“Well, my greatest fear isn't a physical thing but an event: being alone again, that I'm still locked in Azkaban and my mind finally broke.”

“And mine is that my illness gets the better of me and I lose myself to it. Now, Neville seemed to be struggling, so Ron, why don't you share?” said Lupin.

“Err, spiders. I really, really don't like them.”

“Simple enough for a fear, and many options to improve it with our newest charm,” said the middle-aged man. “Now that you've had time to consider, Neville, what would you say so Ron can get some ideas?”

“I—I—I d—don't kn—know, sir,” Neville said, hyperventilating at the apparent possibilities of his fears.

"Well, unfortunately, Neville, the best thing I can teach you in this class is how to face your fears with a lion's pride. So, on three, you're going to jump into the marked circle, and we will all see what Ron makes of your fear.

One.

Two.

Three! And Neville leapt, seeming to surprise even himself with his own daring. The chains on the armoire snapped as the doors flung open, revealing a pitch-black interior before slamming shut again. It seemed to sit there silent for a minute before four slender fingers slid from behind the door and slowly opened it. What was revealed was a pale, emaciated man, bent over and stooped, with wandering, unfocused eyes and wearing a fraying, thin, powder-blue robe and worn-down slippers. It wasn't only Neville who reacted to this man's appearance, but Harry noticed both professors expressing sour recognition.

The man's slow, meandering walk had the entire room staring as he slowly shuffled to Neville and, bending low over their fellow student, the shade of fear spoke in a near whisper that still echoed around the room.

“Mum told me what a disappointment you are, Neville, how weak you are, and how you’ll never—” The thing emitted a choked sound just after Ron leapt forward and shouted, “Riddikulus!” The thing’s robes twisted into the black and white robes of a priest, and its hair turned into a large, misshapen head—the man had the appearance of a friendly bishop preaching a sermon. But the hat kept getting bigger and bigger, and soon the hat toppled right over the priest, shutting him from view. Lupin pulled Neville from the ring. But still, the giant mitre sat there until some unknown force knocked it over, revealing a head-hole—an elephant-sized spider to Ron and the room at large—as it made its way, one hairy leg at a time. It scuttled toward Ron to induce more fear from the boy, but—

"Riddikulus!" called Neville. Suddenly, the spider had skates on all eight legs and scuttled, using each leg for balance. This made the entire class laugh, and Ron backed away. Then, all the pairs in the class were brought into the circle. Seamus's banshee was made into a rubber chicken by Dean after his severed hand did a tap dance. Parvati's mummy was unbound in a whirlwind by Lavender Brown after her jack-in-the-box shot out butterflies. Malfoy's black-robed figure was turned into a snowman that was blown away by the wind before reforming into a bottle filled with brown liquid, only for Malfoy to charm it into a swimming pool. Finally, Harry and Hermione were called, and a twelve-foot-tall mountain troll stepped from the armoire. Harry, taking inspiration from a completely bewildering tapestry he had found exploring the school last year, dressed the troll in a bright pink tutu and made it do several pirouettes before it deflated into a black mist that fled back into the cabinet. At that point, Lupin was about to intervene, but Professor Black put his hand over the professor's mouth, stopping him.

Finally, from the cabinet emerged not a troll, banshee, or dementor, frightful though they all are. In fact, nothing came from the armoire at all; the entire armoire transformed into a cupboard and staircase. The tiny door opened, revealing a small, broken figure clutching its chest and face as sobs racked its slight frame—sobs that had already lost sound, the young boy's voice giving out. Hermione stepped up and raised her wand, only to be stopped by Harry. "No, let me," he said calmly.

“My greatest fear is waking up back in my cupboard under the stairs one day, having this all be a dream my fractured mind cooked up after my uncle beat me too harshly. But I know how to make it funny…RIDIKULUS!” This terrible scene changed. Harry was jumping up and down on Uncle Vernon's massive stomach like a trampoline, clutching the all-too-familiar Hogwarts letter. This got a loud round of laughter from the crowd of children. Finally, Black let Lupin go. “Now, Neville, finish it off!” Neville stepped back into the circle; the gray-haired man formed again and tried to approach, but the man's robes grew too long and tangled around his feet, which were now standing on ice. He flailed his arms and legs, trying to keep his balance, and fell hard, spinning around and shattering into a thick black cloud of dust as Neville let out a loud and powerful “HA!” The dust faded. And everyone was surprised when a loud bell rang through the class, signaling the class change. As they were gathering their things and preparing to leave, Lupin called out the homework.

Speaking very fast, he said, “Everyone! I want a one-foot essay on what one of your other fears is and how to properly counteract it. I'm giving ten points to everyone who faced a boggart, and an additional ten to Neville for facing it twice, and five each to Hermione and Harry for answering my questions. Have a good rest of your day!”

As the students filed out, Harry, Hermione, and Ron hung back once he saw the other two making no move to leave. Harry approached the two teachers, looking at Mister Black. “You stopped him from stopping me,” he said to Sirius before directing himself to Lupin. “Why?” was the young man’s simple question.

Lupin looked awkward. "Because I thought that what you most fear must be Lord Voldemort, and, fake or not, I didn't think having that appear in class would be very safe." Harry appeared relieved.

"Good," the young lord breathed. "I thought that—"

"I do not think you are weak, Harry. Quite the opposite, in fact. I know you have an innate strength of will. Although I must say I wasn't expecting—"

"My childhood was... not pleasant. I don't remember most of it because of Dumbledore's meddling, which I'm grateful for. Actually, I don't need therapy for stuff that didn't happen," said Harry cheekily, which caused Sirius Black to snort.

"Your childhood must have been on par with mine. I wish I could forget it as well. Something else for us to discuss when you come around in a more private setting," the black-haired man smiled.

"But you all should get back to Gryffindor Tower and prepare for dinner! I have it on very good authority that the kitchens got hold of a particularly flavorful shipment of salmon and Dungeness crab.” True to Mister Black’s words, there was a seafood feast that night for dinner.
____________________________________

Before Harry realized it, he was facing his first weekend, and the talk Harry knew he needed to have with his godfather. Friday's classes had flown by with a busy day of Charms, Herbology, and a torturous but enlightening double class of Arithmancy. Now he lay in his four-poster bed; curtains closed against the morning sun that would shine directly into his eyes. He was hiding, he knew it, yet couldn't stop himself. The apprehension filling his chest made him nearly catatonic. Still, he wouldn't be able to hide forever. Five minutes hadn't gone by when his curtains were flung open to reveal Hermione. Her hair was somewhat lustrous and shining in the light.

“Good morning, Harry! Ron said you were awake but sulking, so I thought I'd come get you,” she said, smiling.

He tilted his head to the side, still looking at her hair. “You've done something to your hair,” Harry said, for he had never seen Hermione do anything to her hair, and she had indeed done something; his bushy-haired best friend was no longer bushy-haired. It was smoother and more lustrous, more of a cascade of tight curls than a nest of frizzy static.

“Oh! Yes! Lavender bought it. It's apparently a new formula marketed under "Sleek Easy," and she asked me to try it to see how effective it is. I rather like it, but it does take a rather long time to apply. "What do you think? You're the first person to actually pay attention," said Hermione with a bright smile.

"I think it suits you, but I like your natural hair."

"Oh, Harry... thank you. So, you're meeting Mister Black today?" At Harry's nervous nod, she continued, "Well, I'm here for you. So is Ron, as long as you don't have that meeting during lunch." Hermione was giggling at her own jest, which received a reluctant laugh from Harry as well. "When are you going?" she asked hesitantly.

"Lunch, funnily enough. Mister Lupin thought food would ease some of the tension. What do you want to do until then?" Harry looked at Hermione with hopeful eyes.

A few short minutes later, Harry found himself deep in conversation with Daphne and Hermione as the former taught the other two more about pure-blood etiquette.

Chapter Text

Harry sat at a medium-sized round table in Mister Lupin's private quarters. He had sat there across from his godfather and next to the man’s marauder compatriot, and tenant of these rooms, Remus Lupin, for 15 minutes now and although the greetings were genial and light hearted those quickly gave way to a heavy, awkward silence. While casting around for a conversation starter Harry's eyes alighted on a glass tank the size of Harry himself. It was filled with murky green water but still clear enough that the sole occupant of the tank, that looked like a long fingered monkey with octopus tentacles instead of feet and a horribly, unnaturally large mouth could be seen. He had apparently stared at that spot for too long as Mister Lupin turned in his seat in order to see what caught Harry's attention.

“Ahh! Do you know what that is, Harry?” Lupin asked, sounding mildly amused. “They live in the lake but I don't think I ever unintentionally encountered them, so I doubt you have.” Remus smiled, seeming to be relieved to have a topic for a normal conversation.

“I think I do, but if that's Grindylow, then the books that Professor Quirell assigned weren't very accurate with their drawings. I thought they were supposed to have a fish tail and look vaguely human-ish.” answered Harry as he quirked an eyebrow.

“Some do!” Remus said happily. “Very good, two points for Gryffindor, yes the Irish and British Grindylows have fish tails but for some reason, unknown to wizards, the Scottish variety evolved octopus like tentacles and are more beastly, somewhat monkey looking.”

Sirius chimed in sounding just as relieved as Remus about the opportunity for conversation. “Some people, like certain members of my family, believed they developed them as a way to hitch rides on the “Beithir” or water dragon before they went nearly extinct a few hundred years ago.“

“Beithir?” Ask Harry.

Remus answered in his calm and amused baritone. “I believe you would be more familiar with the term "Loch Ness Monster.““

This revelation nearly floored Harry. “You mean those are real?”

“Oh, yes, they're quite real. A small surviving population was found in the loch that the muggle monster is so famous for — and the rumors spread before the ministry could hide them.” Shrugged Sirius Black. “It happens far more often than you would think. People thought moon calves were extinct in my lifetime and then — boom! — Out of nowhere came an entire breeding herd from the Forbidden Forest in our seventh year, they nearly trampled that poor sod, Davy Gudeon, to death.”

“Your father had to rush him to the hospital wing as he was the only one with a broom nearby at the time.” Supplied Lupin.

Harry paused unsure and looked down at the table for a few seconds before looking up at these two connections to his father with steel in his eyes. “What was he like? People say I'm alot like him and that I look like him but-” and he stopped suddenly, unable to speak, his throat choked with emotion.

Sirius picked up where Harry stopped in a slow and sad voice, eyes down cast as if he was unable to look at Harry. “You have no memories of him?” He asked sadly, and only continued when Harry shook his head, causing Sirius to sigh long and slow.

“Your father, Harry, was one of the best people I've ever met. I'm sure I could tell you endless stories of our time here and after. He was brash and willful when he was a kid. Some would say he was a bully, and they'd probably be right to a certain extent. He was smart and confident and a natural in the air.”

“I'm told you share that particular trait at least with him. Professor McGonagall has been very boastful about your abilities ” interrupted Mister Lupin.

“Oh yes, he was a natural on a broom. He played Chaser though, not Seeker. He was on the team as soon as tryouts started our second year and we had the Quidditch cup every year we attended.” Sirius supplied again causing Harry to smile at their jubilation at reliving old memories.

“I wish I could have met them.” Harry said in a sad tone. He was not sad at the loss of his parents, but sad at the need to interrupt their moment of nostalgic joy. It bothered him deeply as the smiles slid from the two adults' faces.

“Harry, I-” Sirius started but it seemed he didn't know how to continue. And for the first time Harry knew. He knew what he wanted to say to his godfather.

“You left me.” Harry said, looking at Sirius who recoiled and grimaced at the calm accusation. “My parents had just died and you were arrested and I understand that. But you left me! For 13 years! 12 of those years were filled with such indescribable torment and torture that I can barely speak of it without going insane! 13 years of grief and loneliness and longing! And you both! Left! Me!” Now he was screaming, hitting the table with each word spoken, splitting skin and cracking bone along with the porcelain tea cups with the force of his pain.

“I spent twelve years alone! Twelve years getting starved! Twelve years getting beaten for being different! And I want to know why! How! Where was my godfather or my father's other friends and why did no one ever come to me!” Harry in his rage was now punching the table to mark the end of every sentence, hyperventilating and fracturing more and more bones with each punch. But the two adults seemed stunned by this sudden outpouring of emotion and violence.

“Why was I forced to grow up like that? To never enjoy a true childhood or the love of a parent. When my oath! (Thwack!) Sworn! (Crunch) Godfather! (Crack!) Was still alive!” Harry shouted the last three words with such a voice the air reverberated with magic.

“Immobulus!” Cried Remus Lupin when he came to his senses when Harry stopped yelling and seemed to be waiting on their responses, still hyperventilating and now shaking from the exertion. But to his shock Harry batted the spell away with his left hand that now clutched a wand, his eyes glowing like an infernal lantern of rage and power.

Sirius dropped to his knees. “I failed you, Harry. I will explain myself but at another time. You're likely to hurt yourself even more out of anger for my idiocy. And you've already badly damaged your hand. Please, Harry, let's get your hand healed up and we can try this again another day.” Sirius wasn't treating Harry like a child; he had clasped his hands on Harry's shoulders and looked him in the eye like two soldiers, one telling the other to go to the medical tent because his arm was off but hadn't realized it yet. Harry stared down at his destroyed hand. Each digit stuck out at multiple odd angles The bones in his hand were bent and scrunched and the skin on his knuckles was all but gone? Shards of splintered bone were dripping a pool of blood onto the stone below him. He was breathing heavily. “Oh. Damn.” Harry said in a blank, empty voice.

____________________________________

Harry sat in the hospital wing, his hand in a heavy cast and an empty beaker of skeleton beside him. He didn't remember arriving nor did he recall ingesting the disgusting liquid that was Skelegrow, but he knew he had as he could feel the tell tale pins and needles sensation that comes with rapid bone regrowth. Hermione was asleep in a chair beside his bed and Smara was curled around her shoulders most likely for warmth; the hospital wing was always chilly. Unlike Hermione, Smara‘s green eyes were open and staring at him.

“Awake, are you? Table killer? Are you done trying to upholster a centuries old bit of wood with your skin and bones?” She did not sound amused.

“No, maybe, for now. How did I get here?” Harry asked through their bond so they did not wake Hermione.

“When I sensed your pain and distress I alerted your lioness friend and she shot off in search of you. With me around her shoulders. When we arrived in a room you were staring at the bloody remains of what had been your right hand. She hit you with a “stunning spell” as she called it. The adults brought you down here then. That was 5 hours ago and it is nearly supper time. And she has been asleep for nearly an hour herself.”

“Damn! I really need to stop losing my temper, Sirius probably thinks I'm a nutter now.” Groused Harry internally.

“I do not believe that is the case, little one. From what the two elder fools were saying they were both very concerned for you and both blamed themselves for the outburst. It is my suggestion that you give them a week. To both calm down and process what you said. This will not be a short or easy process by any means, little one. Your trust in adults has been shattered. And you now face two of the progenitors of that distrust. Be kind and careful with them for I can smell their care for you. But be wary of Lupin; he has a scent of magic on him I've not smelt for eons. And I can't correctly place it. But it smells like danger”

“He's supposed to have some dark curse on him or something. McGonagall said the curse leaves him indisposed from time to time.” Said Harry in his new teacher's defense.

“Still, be wary of him because he has the scent of a predator, though a sleeping one.” No matter how many times after that Harry tried to speak to Smara she remained silent and wouldn't explain what she meant. And when he touched her mind through their bond all he got was a confusing mass of flashing images of monsters and images of the moon. So as another hour passed in stillness and boredom, he watched Hermione sleep. The slow even spacing of her soft breaths filled the silence of the hospital wing. It was such a soft and peaceful sound that Harry was quite content to just watch and listen as his normally bustling friend sat still and motionless. It wasn't until seven o'clock that Madame Pomfrey came to check on Harry and chevy Hermione out of the hospital wing for the night that she woke up, blushing to her roots when she learned that Harry had been watching over her instead of the other way around. Hermione being sent off for dinner and bed by the nurse was sad news for Harry as he was down for another night of pins and needles as he regrew bones in unmitigated monotony. Even Smara was gone for the night to hunt and he didn't like touching her mind when she was doing that, not after the deer.

____________________________________

After Harry had been released from incarceration the next morning to many many chidings and admonitions from the matron and the headmistress and Missus Weasley and he had to sit through both Daphne and Hermione brow beating him over his own stupidity for an hour and half. Each. It was, to say the least, not how he liked spending his Sundays yet he couldn't fault any of them for their concern. The headmistress and Hermione even went so far as to threaten telling Andromeda because nothing would stop Andromeda from killing Harry and then reviving him as she would her own child — whether or not Harry was a legal adult — when she heard what he had done to his own hand. It took Harry 30 minutes of pleading with them. Each. In order for them to agree to hold their tongues about it unless he did something really stupid again.

After that, Monday rolled around and the rest of the week passed by with the only interesting bit being when Professor Chambers went completely off the rails during Friday’s class when asked by Harry's dormmate Dean Thomas how the magical community of America differed from the muggle one.

“Well, ya see, I was watching this old movie over the summer, my mom said it was a classic from America, “the outlaw Jose Wales” and made me watch it. Great movie, but it got me wonderin’ how different the magical Old West was to the muggle side of things.” The boy said.

“Well I wasn't gonna start on American history until yalls fourth year. But- since you brought it up I reckon I can give ya an overview.

To be short the American magical Community pretty much matched the muggle view of native culture. Suppress it, eliminate it and take it over — or force it away from the territory you take from them. That is until the 1860s and the American Civil War happened. While the No-Majs were fighting themselves, the magical communities of western settlers and natives were also in open conflict. The Natives had finally banded together under the command of the great chieftain Cochise of the Chiricahua Apache tribe, and the two groups would have probably destroyed each other. But in 1867 a peace accord was formed that joined the magical native council with MACUSA; this brought an end to the war and a great revival of culture and rejuvenation of magic in the Americas. Combining our cultural knowledge with the Natives set great leaps in medical and foundational magical knowledge.

After that there was still open conflict between native No-Majs and Americans but it stopped slowly as the native No-Majs were allowed special permission to join the magical community to protect their culture so ingrained with magic as to be inseparable.

And to this day there are several areas in America where Native American tribes live hidden and protected by their shamans. The Appalachian Mountains in the east. Death Valley in the west and many of our famous national parks and wildlife reserves are also native enclaves. Not to mention they also live in the more widely known Indian reservations.” The man seemed so happy to share the history of his own country and that happy energy infected the whole class as he spoke.

“I often lament that British magic is so stagnant.” He looked around at the offended gasps coming from the pureblood students. “Not in the way that sounds. But in America we don't only learn the Latin and English spells y’all learn here. Magical education is spread through the cultural knowledge of a hundred different native tribes, Latin, Roman, French, British, German, Mexica, Spanish, Mayan, Incan, and a dozen other countries. Experimentation is encouraged because the old way of doing things isn't always the best. The Inca had a sticking charm that acted like a non Newton's fluid. You could push and shift and hit the subject of the spell all day and even give it a harsh jerk upwards and it wouldn't move but when you went to lift it gently, the subject of the spell would go up without resistance. You don't need to undo the spell first.”

And Harry got excited as he knew that spell. He had in fact just taught it to Krabbe the other day. So not thinking he stood up, pulled his wand and cast “ahuia!” at Malfoys quill. He tried to harshly pick it up only to bat himself in the mouth when his hand slipped off the immovable writing utensil, and then picked it up gently as Chambers had said, looking perturbed.

“5 points Mister Potter, that is the very spell I was talking about. When did you learn it?” asked Chambers, sounding rather impressed.

“Over the summer, I spent about a month and a half in Teotihuacan. Learning some of the history and true abilities of Parselmouths.” Explained Harry.

“Ahh,” the man said, smiling and nodding. “What a fabulous segway for me to talk about this year's special project,” he said to a round of groans. And with a flick of his wand he sent a large scroll to each student. “This is the rubric you'll need to follow. We will be doing research projects on magical cultures from around the world. You can pick any outside of the British Isles. This research must include: location, age, history, and what makes the magical culture you pick act as it does — rather it be the docile servitude of mages to vampires in Transylvania, or the worship of the sun god in Peru. Your culture can be extinct or from the present day but I expect no less than 5 feet of parchment on your chosen subject. Since you’re all third years I expect you to search for reference material while in Hogsmeade. All relevant information, rules and requirements are listed on the parchment I gave you. Your chosen culture is due to me this time next week.” As he finished speaking the bell, signaling class ended, rang. And everyone went to enjoy the beginning of the weekend.

As they walked Harry could practically hear his two friends' brains buzzing. “So? Who are you two going to pick? I'm going to do magical Mexico, of course. I find that place really fascinating.”

“Hmm well my first choice is magical France as I've been there so often but I think I might like to challenge myself to pick somewhere more unfamiliar. I liked the sound of Peru.” Said Hermione, sounding like she was already running through her first draft in her head.

Ron however had a completely different and completely expected response. “Five feet. Five feet! How can that American pillock assign us 5 feet of parchment!”

“Oh! Calm down, Ron. Honestly! We've got the whole year to do it and 5 feet isn't even that much when you consider you’re writing about the entire history of an entire culture!” And that's when Fred and George seemed to materialize from out of nowhere, each grabbing the opposite of Ron's shoulders and start frog marching him as they walked.

“Yea little brother, it's going to get even harder next year! And look at us, we have to do 10 feet of parchment on “the interrelations of magical countries preceding the first muggle World War and how that massive conflict changed them. But it should be easy since such a weighty topic is going to have a lot of references. Most of them are probably in secondhand books if not in the Hogwarts library.” Said George.

“But that's not why we came to find you. Harry, Wood is looking for you, us really, we should say, team tryouts are tomorrow and he wants all returning players there to defend their spots. And he wants to discuss something with us.” Said Fred.

“Speaking of tryouts. Are you trying out, little brother?” Said both twins switching between sentences.

“Errr no, I prefer keeping and well, with Wood here there's no chance I'll be on the team.” Said Ron dejectedly.

“What a load of dung!” Said Fred ” You're trying out tomorrow and that's that. If you're good you'll be a reserve. You saw what happened in your first year; two bludgers back to back and Wood was out for the game. It's smart to have a reserve. And you‘ll get much more practice for next year when we will need a new Keeper.”

“And you can have my Nimbus. For practices I know you have my dad's old broom but you need something a bit newer if you're going to compete with the brooms I bought.” Said Harry smiling. And that's when Hermione started unexpectedly.

“Ohh! Harry, the Firebolt has been released, you can use that in games now, right?”

“Yup! Although I don't know if I will, the broom is supposed to outmatch any broom on the market and I just don't think it'll be fair even with me donating all those brooms to the school.”

“I can understand that" said Fred, “though maybe play it in the first game to see just how sporting a competition it is and then go from there?”

“I could do that.” Said a grinning Harry. The thought of being back on his broomstick was a very happy one. The summer didn't leave much time for recreational activities. With a quick farewell to his friends he followed the twins to a large empty classroom that Wood often used for unofficial Quidditch meetings. As they entered the Gryffindor Chaser team and Captain/Keeper were already there waiting for them.

“See, I told you, Oliver, no point in any of us looking for him when the twins can find anyone in the castle faster than anyone else. Even Filch.”

“And just how did you all find me anyway!” said Harry laughing. The question just popped in Harry's head.

“Ohhhh, just had a bit of help from Mooney, Padfoot,and Prongs!” said Fred winking.

“Oh! I forgot! You'll have to show me that later.” Said Harry.

“Be that as it may!” Interrupted Oliver Wood. “Discussing Fred and George‘s propensity for problem causing isn't why I called you here. Look, these past two years we have had the best team in the school! And it's been rotten luck only that's kept us from the cup, from Harry getting, errr, sick at the end of his first season and the tournament getting canceled last year. This year is my last chance to have my name on the cup! And I'm going to get it there. One way or the other. We will be having more and longer training sessions. I'm also going to be training an entire squad of reserves in case teams like Slytherin take one or more of us out in a game. That being said I want all of us at tryouts; we are all going to pick our protege and train them to be just as capable as we are. This is my legacy as captain. To ensure Gryffindor wins for the foreseeable future.”

“Yea! And it'll also make you look really good for the scouts that are coming for you this year.” snarked George.

“There is that, too, yes!” laughed Oliver, acknowledging his ulterior motives causing the team to laugh around him.

The next day saw the biggest house team tryouts in Hogwarts’ history. Wood puts out a total house bulletin. A very very rare event — meaning every student in the house had to try out. Even Hermione very reluctantly tried for keeping and actually did marginally well, scoring 3 saves out of five. Harry suspected she could actually do much better and just didn't want to. The Chaser tryouts took the longest time with the sheer amounts of applicants and the fact that one burly 4th year boy named Cormac McLaggen “accidentally” shattered Seamus Finnegan‘s jaw after he tried to steal a pass meant for the younger boy, being on the same team as Seamus this looked very bad on McLaggen‘s part. The Chaser trials concluded with Ginny Weasley, a fourth year named Howard and a 6th year, Fae Dunbar, being named back ups.

The Keeper tryouts concluded with Ron‘s great success at catching 5 out of 5 throws and dodging the two bludgers his older brothers sent his way to “keep his head from getting too inflated” according to Fred when Wood started to berate them. Seamus became a backup Beater after he drank some Skele-Grow someone had brought along. A second year named Richie peaks became a Beater as well. Leaving the Seeker trials for last. The Seeker trials were always the least popular. Very popular though the position is in the game not many people were willing to impart the risk that comes with playing it. That said Ginny Weasley was the only one to volunteer to try out, making her the only double back up.

Neither Lupin nor Mr Black were at dinner that night. Harry had hoped to talk to them and apologize for his outburst but he was determined to corner them the next morning and make things right.

____________________________________

Sunday afternoon saw Harry standing in front of Lupin's office door waiting for a reply after having just knocked on the ancient oak. Hermione stood next to him, Harry had been intelligent enough to invite her along this time. The door swung open to reveal a pale and tired Remus Lupin with heavy bags under his eyes, he brightened though, upon sighting his visitor.

“Ah Harry! And Miss Granger of course good afternoon. It is good to see you both, though I must admit I didn't expect to find you, Harry, knocking on my door so soon after- well last week.”

“Hello Professor!” Said Hermione.

“Good afternoon! I wanted to let everything settle, but Smara said I should do this sooner rather than later.”

“Ahh and where is your snake companion, I wanted to ask her thoughts on my lesson this week.”

“She frequently disappears into Slytherin‘s chamber. And if not there, into the Slytherin common room. Apparently there's some hidden room she likes to stay in. Daphne won't tell us what. You all made that map, yea? Any ideas?” Explained Harry while being led inside and seeing an equally tired looking Sirius sipping coffee at the table, Harry's eyebrows drew together in a silent question he sent to Hermione, who shrugged.

The two older men shared a look and shook their heads simultaneously. “Sorry Harry, can't say we know that one. We didn't get a lot of chances to explore the other common rooms in great detail. For the map the broad details are about all there are.” Said Sirius, his voice echoing out of his mug.

“Professor? Excuse me but why are you both so tired?” Asked Hermione just as Harry began asking the same thing.

“The Wizengamot!” Growled Sirius. “Some hag tried to pass an anti creatures and part human law that would make it legal to kill them all on sight in “civilized areas” in a back room deal in the dead of night. They sent two notices around 6 in the afternoon and we left there after arguing with those ignorant blow-hards for nine hours. Fell into our beds at 3 in the morning.” Sirius raged while explaining this, shooting up from his seat only to pace and gesticulate wildly in his anger.

“Surely not!” Said Hermione shocked. “That must be a wildly unpopular opinion! Did many show up against it?”

“Only about half the Wizengamot. It wasn't decided until Andromeda showed up and cast Harry's votes to kill the bill. Until she showed up it was a deadlock between my block of votes and a few others‘ like the Longbottoms’ and Bones‘ that kept it from being passed.”

“Well I'm glad the Potter votes can do some good in the world. I certainly don't want them.“

“Don't be so flippant Harry.” Chided the sandy haired professor. “The Potter votes can command immense authority. We knew James and Charlus, Harry. We both know what's hidden in your office.”

“The ring of Gryffindor?” Harry asked askance

Hermione whirled around looking at him with wide eyes at that announcement. Harry grimaced, meeting her angry eyes and mother a silent “later.” Which she accepted with a nod her lips pressed into the thinnest and straightest line quite reminiscent of the headmistress.

“And a few others that could almost give you primacy over the Wizengamot based on the old laws of the Wizards‘ council. I'm a Black, Harry. I know the fact that old families have hidden lines and power more than most. Most of the time they lay dormant waiting for a Head of House to need that power or authority or access to whatever misbegotten treasure they had discovered. But!” He said cutting through the serious discussion with one flamboyant motion. “Troubles with the racists of this country and the Wizengamot isn't why you came here this early in the morning-”

“It's 2 in the afternoon Sirius” interrupted Professor Lupin.

“Be. that. as. it. may.” He banged on the table before rising from his seat to kneel in front of Lupin. “Please, let's talk about something a bit less dull than the horrors of politics, please Moony?!” The scruffy looking Sirius was pleading dramatically on hands and knees. And shot up smiling, when Lupin rolled his eyes and waved his hands for them to continue. “Excellent! So tell us Harry, why come visit us on this cold dreary September day.“

“Oh well, I just wanted to continue our talk and apologize for my outburst. I'm trying to be the best Lord Potter possible. And I know I came quite short with that display.” A blushing Harry said while Hermione squeezed his hand for support.

Harry watched as the two old marauders exchanged a look. “If that's the case then Charlus was a poor Lord Potter indeed. Your family never put a lot of stock in the overstuffed gestures of grace and formalities that the “Sacred twenty eight” have.” Sirius said before Lupin took over.

“Not to mention Harry, you are thirteen years old. No one expects you to act like a world weary reasonable adult one hundred percent of the time. Even if you think you are and that you do, you're still a teen and that comes with certain emotional - irregularities.” The scarred teacher said as if picking his words very carefully at the end.

“We know Andy and Lord Greengrass’ oldest have been teaching you pureblood etiquette but she didn't know your family near as much as I did. — By all means keep learning social graces, they are invaluable skills to have when you have to deal with ponces like Malfoy on a daily basis. — But you don't have to live by them to retain your family’s legacy. Because — to paraphrase Charlus himself — “your ancestors rather spat on that kind of air headed nonsense. We're Lords forgotten by the crown, not princes awaiting seats on the throne.” Sirius finished this story smiling.

“That makes me feel a lot better really, I'm pants at all that etiquette stuff anyway.” Harry saying this caused them all to share a quick laugh.

“Look Harry, about what you said the other day. If you want a full retelling and recounting of those events I'll tell you all I know. I failed you in ways that I can never atone for. So when you‘re-” Harry cut Sirius off.

“I'm not. I'm not ready. I think I'd like to get to know you and Mr Lupin better. Maybe we can tell you stories of our first and second years. If the headmistress hasn't filled you in, the stories can be quite intense.”

“I've been wondering how you got that badge. Minerva simply told us you would share when you're ready.” Sirius said, pointing to the shield adoring Harry's robes. “Speaking of which, have you put any of those benefits to use yet?”

“Benefits? What benefits? I thought it was just a badge.” At this Hermione smacks her own forehead.

“Of course, I completely forgot, Harry the Reward for Special Services to the school allows you equal status as prefects. It lets you enter the prefect lounge under the trophy room and the prefect bath.” At this she turned beat red up to her roots. “Which the headmistress didn‘t tell you about most likely because the prefects‘ bathroom is co-ed and she most likely didn't think you ready for such things.”

“That about sums up what I had thought. But if you do want to use that room I can tell you all you have to do is touch the shield to the door. Though I'd suggest going after hours. Maybe use your-.” And he stopped there, perking up as if a great shock hit him and he looked over at Lupin before continuing. “Harry? You don't happen to have your father's old invisibility cloak, right?”

“Errr, yes? The headmaster gave it to me for Christmas my first year. Said he used it to sneak food from the kitchens. I don't use it all that much to be honest, but I keep it in my trunk with what's happened to me in my time here. I like to have things handy that can help in a lot of situations.” This caused both adults to frown.

“Well, I'd use it to sneak in there if you wanted to. After hours, of course, when the older students have gone to bed. Now tell us young students about your adventures at this fine school.” Joked Sirius.

And Harry and Hermione spent the afternoon catching up with the two adults on just what has been going on in and around Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore's betrayal of Harry and his summer working up to his emancipation. Fighting a troll, befriending a basilisk and defeating a shade of fear. The two adults were a great and energetic audience; they winced and cheered and gasped in all the right places, even showing the same enthusiasm for Hermione's own solitary stories of her time as a muggleborn in the school and defeating Snape‘s logic puzzle. And when Harry detailed his final confrontation with the shade of Voldemort, Lupin sank into his seat and Sirius jumped out of his, cheering and raving about his godson smacking around a dark wizard. By the end of the day they had all agreed to meet up again the next weekend and swap more stories. Of Harry’s parents‘ school days and Harry's and Hermione's own adventures.

Chapter Text

The weeks passed very quickly for Harry, between the increased workload and the ever increasingly interesting topics of the lessons themselves, not to mention Quidditch practice four times a week, and the hours that Smara and he chatted inside his mind using their connection. Time indeed seemed to sift through the students‘ fingers before they could realize it was passing by. That was how Harry found himself preparing for the first Hogsmeade trip of his school career the day before Halloween. Fred and George easily admitted that there was a definite dreariness on the usual excitement of the trip to the village, the presence of the dementors, as far as they were from the school, were still powerful enough to affect the general mood of the castle's inhabitants. But the excitement of a new adventure was still very palpable for the third year students and Harry was for once among their number in acting like an overexcited child as they passed Mister Filch, getting poked and prodded by the man's secrecy sensor.

Hermione and Ron were not the only ones accompanying Harry for this new experience, Daphne and Tracey had decided to come with them them as offl, with many sidelong glances from the Slytherins like pansy parkinson. When Lupin and Sirius had heard Harry had never been to the village they both decided that Harry needed extra escorts as well. Lupin especially came through, carrying a handful of large rich chocolate bars to eat while passing the dementors. Sadly, Despite the added protection of the chocolate Harry felt the effect of the dark creatures on his mind, dark memories swirled in the background of his thoughts like mud swirling through a crystal clear pool. When they passed the gates of Hogwarts and then Hogsmeade station to view the village properly, they were greeted by a sight straight from a fairytale book.

The village of Hogsmeade looked like a postcard. The old fashioned houses alight with the warm glow of candles. The grey of the sky and the dark barren tree trunks surrounding the shops made the brightly colored signs of shops like Gladrags Wizardwear, Dogweed and Deathcap, Zonko's joke shop, and in the center of the town square, the legendary, Three Broomsticks, a pub steeped in more magical history than even the leaky cauldron. pop out in front of their eyes. The magical effects surrounding the signs made the effect even more fabulous.

Still though as Harry grinned around taking in all the sights around him, entranced by the sheer magic-ness of it all, a definite stiffness in the residents‘ posture and a slight rush to their steps that the students lacked. Focusing his magic outward he studied the area around him; a definite pall shrouded the area in a dreary shroud, a nearly constant thrum of fear surrounded the area as well, much fresher and stronger than the depression of the dementors. His ability to sense magic around himself is too overcrowded here and he had still not mastered syphoning off the more static magic from more active sources around him so he was unable to truly differentiate the sources Nor could he sus out the reasons fornthe semsations based on such loose feelings.

“Sirius? What is up with the people? This doesn't seem like the depression caused by dementors.” The two older men shared a look that they often did when Harry noted something they wish he hadn't.

“Ahh well, that's because it's not. We were asked not to spread it around in fear it might cause a panic, the, uh, Board of Governors almost canceled today's trip. It was Sirius’ and my own testimony that allowed it to proceed. Pettigrew was spotted yesterday evening, he must have gotten too close to the dementors or too weak from hunger. And lost the grip on his powers for a bit. He was seen stealing food and blankets from a house near the edge of the village. They called in more dementors and surrounded the village's outer barriers to prevent him from escaping. We told them after such a slip up he'll be going careful for a while and won't pose a danger. He is after all in his deepest nature a coward. Never did anything without someone bigger and better to back him up. So in our expert opinions he won't do anything unless he has back up. And he knows we have the map so there's very little chance of him sneaking into the school.” Remus explained this as Sirius was giving a small rundown of the local shops to the ithers in the group, where to go and where to avoid.

“Madam Puddifoot's tea shop is a good place to take a girly girl on a date” he said as he elbowed Ron. “But horrendous to anyone with a fully functioning prefrontal cortex; Dervish and Banges sells magical hardware like Sneakoscopes, telescopes and pocket planetariums but a lot of students avoid it because they also deal in magical antiques and don't shy away from things of more darker nature, a lot like the Hog‘s Head or certain stores in Knockturn Alley — nothing quite illegal but certainly morally grey. Hmm, it looks like it's closed.” Sirius said, peeking down a side street to the building where the Hog‘s Head used to be.

“Oh yea.” Harry interjected. “ I had Gringotts repossess it and then I closed the thing. It was technically Dumbledore's and he still owes me a few hundred thousand galleons. I think Andromeda wants to fix the place up. But by the looks of the it burning it down might suit it better.” Explained Harry quickly.

“I quite agree that the place looks foul. I don't think I'd go in if you paid me.” Sniffed Hermione.

“I wouldn't do that Harry. These buildings are ancient, renovation is easier and gentler than demolition. You might destroy something hidden or forgotten and not know it.” Lupin pointed out. “So where do you all want to check out first?”

“Dervish and Banges ” echoes Harry and Daphne.
“Tomes and Scrolls” called Hermione.
“Honeydukes!“ came from Tracey and Ron. “Like I said, I don't care what we do. I've been dying to come to this store for years but mom never took me before Hogwarts.” Said Ron.

“Ok well, why Dervish and Banges, Harry? We just said it doesn't have a stellar reputation.” Asked Lupin.

“Err, I want a few sneakoscopes? Ron got me one from Egypt. But it was a cheap one and cracked when Fred and George came near it trying to prank the Gryffindor Chasers. Something about itching powder.” This explanation simply got silent nods of understanding out of the group and Sirius led the way to the wizarding equipment shop. True to what Sirius said earlier, the inside of the store was austere, and neatly organized. Instead of piles of goods for sale each product had its very own display, with no other products near it. There were several different types and sizes of things that resembled the Sneakoscope Ron had gotten him. There were a few varieties of auto diction quills, a medium sized mirror that seemed to have shadows bustling about inside of it, strange pieces of furniture, crystal balls and an entire wall of crystal phylacteries of various sizes; and in a far corner was a black curtain leading into a seperate room with a sign next to it “must be seventeen or older to enter.” The proprietor of the store came and introduced himself as Mister Dervish, and was very happy to sell two mid range Sneakoscopes to Harry. One for Harry to keep in his dorm for Ron and himself and the other he immediately tried to hand over to Hermione. Daphne picked out a pair of Sneakoscopes as well. “One for me and Tracey and one for Tori. If Hermione and Ron could be targets then we could be as well.” No one argued with her and Daphne and Tracey pointedly ignored him when Harry said in a teasing tone “if you put those things down in the snake pit won't they just ring off constantly?”

“Oh Harry, I don't need that. Please don't waste your mon-” Hermione tried to argue when he tried to hand her the magical device fir the third time.

“I'm not wasting anything, Hermione. Scabbers, or Pettigrew, whatever you want to call him knows we're close. If he's a coward like those two say he might not come after me straight away, but, you know, he might try to catch one of you lot, to force me into submission. I'd like you to have some protection against the unknown while he's skulking around.” Said Harry with a fiery, do not argue with me attitude that for some reason wrung a smile out of both of their older escorts.

They spent the next few hours wandering from shop to shop filling the time with idle chatter and doing their best to avoid the depression caused by being surrounded by so many dementors. In response to the solemn atmosphere, Harry spoiled his friends. Never having been on a shopping trip quite like this before, Harry loaded himself and the others with new premium stationery and quills from Scribbonshafts, a full wizarding history encyclopedia for any of them to use or borrow from Tomes and Scrolls. The 170 volume encyclopedia was to be sent to Lupin's office so that Daphne could retrieve a volume if she needed it. And they all spent far, far too much money at Honeydukes; Harry never having experienced the sheer availability of candy before went nuts and bought a selection of everything they had in the store. Except of course the two products he suspected weren't meant for humans: cockroach clusters, and blood pops. Daphne and Tracey drug a squirming Hermione to a witches specialist goods store for some “quick girl time”. When they came back nearly 2 hours later Hermione was still bright pink and refused point blank to explain what the shop was like or what they had purchased in that store. Much to the amusement of Sirius and Lupin, and Hermione clamped her hand over Tracey's mouth. She still got “What, Hermione don't want to tell Harry what kind of ni-” out before Hermione clamped her mouth shut.

After their shopping spree, the two professors shrunk down everyone's bags for ease of transport. And they all went to have dinner at the Three Broomsticks where Harry and Hermione were introduced to the specialty drink of the Three Broomsticks. Hot, thick, and foamy Butterbeer. It was incredible, the taste was indescribable, and the warmth it put into Harry's body was like a hot compress onto his very soul. After their meal and the amazing drink Harry wanted nothing more than to lean back and take a nap while listening to the idle chatter of hundreds of people in the bar. Harry sat in between Daphne and Hermione for several hours, enjoying the conversations and testing out mixing his and Smara‘s senses, a skill that they had only recently begun developing; he had to stop after only a few tries as it was giving him a migraine. He also spent the time blushing as red as a tomato and dodging Sirius‘ very pointed questions and jokes about the witches on either side of him. All in all, it was an amazing Saturday and he fell asleep eagerly awaiting the Halloween feast the next day. It was of a light soothing humming tune he dreamt of. A tune that he didn't remember hearing before and yet was so familiar and comforting he hadn't even realized that sleep had claimed him.

____________________________________

The next day passed quickly. Harry and his friends spent most of the day in Lupin's room which was quickly becoming the standard hangout spot for his friends and himself. They spent the day working on, researching, and compiling notes on Professor Chambers' project. Daphne had gathered no less than ten books about the magical order of the first Chinese dynasty and was organizing notes on the various things she wanted to write about. Hermione had chosen the indigenous culture of Australia and had already compiled notes and was now formulating drafts. Ron however had chosen Ancient Rome, being a culture that he was most familiar with but only had two reference books and had compiled no notes, choosing to read the books first instead. Harry was already compiling a litany of reference books about the Aztec, or Mexican culture and had written to several people he had met while in Mexico for first person viewpoints. Lupin and even Sirius were able to help each student with a tidbit here of there but for the most part they let the students go about their own studies while they graded papers, or in Sirius’ case sat at a desk sifting through the pile of paperwork needed to manage the Black family‘s massive holdings.

Aside from the mountain of work his friends and he were doing, Harry was working so hard to serve another purpose, a distraction. Halloween would never mean anything good for Harry because it was the anniversary of the death of his parents. By now he was noticing the beginning of a pattern in Hogwarts. Halloween ment danger for him. The troll in first year and the beginning of the troubles with the shade of Tom Riddle last year — well shortly before Halloween — but the nerves were still there; though today seemed to be going well, they broke for lunch and everything was fine but that all changed around dinner time. A loud commotion was heard echoing through the halls and the teachers all sprinted off in different directions to find out what happened as it sounded like a part of the castle collapsed. It was clarified after dinner when Harry and his friends returned to Lupin‘s room to find the headmistress talking to Harry's would-be uncles. As they were opening the door the magically magnified voice of deputy headmaster Flitwick rang through the halls. “All students return to your house dormitories, all students please return to your house dormitories.”

As the announcement fell silent they caught the last part of the headmistress’ words.
“They‘re fine, thank goodness, but they wanted me to tell you “it's gone, taken.” but they wouldn't elaborate-” She broke off upon noticing the four students enter the room, her face darkening further at seeing Ron. “Mister Weasley, I was just about to come and find you. I'm afraid your brothers were attacked in that commotion we heard earlier.” She held up a hand to forestall Ron from interrupting her. “They are fine but they will be spending the night in the hospital wing. Lupin, Black, escort these four up to Gryffindor tower. Miss Greengrass, I shall inform Professor Snape of your location. I must be off, please inform the students of the situation and stay up in the tower while they are here.” Harry didn't like how the headmistress emphasized the word “they”.

It was with a duel call of “Yes headmistress” that the two professors chivied the teens up the corridor. Then Hermione spoke. “Professor Lupin, what is going on, who attacked-” but it was Sirius that answered the young girl.

“Wormtail.” Sirius said through clenched teeth.

“And he stole the map from the twins” answered Lupin in a calmer voice.

“I thought you had it!” Came a response from all three Gryffindors.

Lupin shrugged and smiled ruefully. “I am a Hogwarts professor, woe unto me for being too busy to keep track of a piece of parchment throughout the day. It has never, to my knowledge left my desk. It is in the same spot when I return from my classes every day; is what I tell myself while the twins have their fun. I am after all a prankster at heart and I didn't see a danger in letting them have it. I truly thought that Pettigrew would not act as he just proved he would. So now all bets are off. He can track us all now.”

And that's when Sirius laughed. “No, he can't, it just so happens I changed the password on the map last night at our two twin terrors request. They had some foresight it seemed. We'll need to ask them to be sure, but I suspect they saw a rat one too many times for it to be a coincidence.”

“Well there's an unsuspected silver lining.” Muttered Lupin guiding them up the sixth floor stairwell. Harry noticed and thought it weird that both Lupin And Sirius seemed to be scenting the air like bloodhounds, but the idea struck him and he mixed his vision with Smara’s . A sensation he quite hated as she saw only thermal signatures. Everything was a cool cold blue except for the burning fire that was the people around him. After only a few seconds he had to cancel it because of the head ache it caused.

Hermione and Daphne were both clutching Harry's arms as they walked, which caused some problems for Harry going up the stairs as he tripped over his or their feet at least six times with only their strength keeping him from toppling down the stairs. It was with a bit more difficulty and suspicion that they arrived at the Gryffindor portrait hole that swung open without requiring a password. “Don't think I'll do this all the time, you know this is a Gryffindor space and Slytherins are not normally allowed in, but student safety outweighs house rules” chided the Fat Lady from behind her frame as the two teachers assisted the students into the hole in the wall the portrait hid, before swinging herself shut. The bang of the portrait closing was followed by two quietly rattling bangs of wood smacking wood. And an echoing chorus going down the hall.

“What was that?” Asked Ron thumbing back at the portrait.

“That, young Mister Weasley, was the castle's defenses. The frames of the portraits have just entered lockdown mode and barred any and all hidden doors as well as hiding their occupants from sight. Even the suits of armor and statues have moved. It's to confuse invaders who might be knowledgeable of Hogwarts landmarks.” Lupin addressed this to the whole of Gryffindor house. And took a break in speaking to make sure everyone was paying attention.

“Listen everyone, we have been infiltrated. Earlier two of your housemates were attacked by the rogue, dark wizard, Peter Pettigrew. Your head of house is currently with her children in the hospital wing. You should know the twins are fine and expected to make a full recovery. However the school will be on lockdown for the night and access to the corridors barred for the next few hours. Sirius and myself will be guarding the door and casting patroni to keep the effects of the dementors at bay for they will be doing a castle wide search with only the dorms blocked off from their search. Also for the night we Gryffindors will have a most important job. That of a host, for Miss Greengrass of Slytherin house will be joining us for the duration of the search, if not all night.” A chorus of loud boos filled the air.

“Ten points from Gryffindor, we said we are playing host not falling into our school rivalries. I expect decorum during this time.” called Sirius angrily. He then turned to said Slytherin student and said “I'm sorry for that, why don't you stay close to Hermione for the night? I think the house elves should have popped in an extra four poster.”

“That will be most acceptable, Professor Black, thank you.” She then stiffened her back and followed Hermione up the girls staircase, pausing only to turn and stick her tongue out to the room.

“Err Sirius? What's a pa-tron-ee?” Asked Harry.

““Patroni" is the plural form used for patronus which is a, uhh, a magical guardian of a kind, formed by casting the highly advanced Patronus charm. It's the only known spell that works against dementors.“

“Wicked, why don't the teachers have those going all the time?”

“Because.” Said Lupin speaking to the students who had gathered around to listen to this impromptu lesson. “The Patronus charm is a highly advanced piece of magic. Most magicals can't do it as it takes a good bit of power, and it is very draining to keep going long term. Not to mention it takes a strength of mind and focus to both conjure and maintain. Most proficient wizards can only hold it for about a minute.”

“Then how are you going to hold it all night?”

“Ahh well that's because Sirius and I are rather special. What you need to power the patronus is a supremely happy memory. And we are the marauders, Lords of joy and laughter, and we just so happen to be in a room full of cramped up, hyperactive and best of all bored children.” Everyone stared at Sirius like he grew a third head, how was being bored going to help anyone?

As if to answer their silent question, Lupin did something highly unexpected. He whirled around and pointed his wand at Sirius and with a flick and a flash of light Sirius was dressed exactly like Marie Antoinette, complete with swan wig. Sirius in return cast his voluminous skirts out and began pirouettes across the room, dragging reluctant boys around, speaking in swooning squeaky french. Almost immediately, the entire room was filled with laughter.

“The happier a caster is, the more powerful the patronus! And the easier it is to hold. For instance, Expecto Patronum!” Lupin cast with a strong voice and sharp jabbing motion, and from his wand leapt a startling silver white animal, so bright it made the roaring fire next to it seem dim. It was so bright it blinded Harry, so he threw a hand over his eyes until they adjusted; at first he couldn't make out what the animal was, but when he lowered his arm a huge wolf was on full display to many oo's and awws from the surrounding students.

A bout of dizziness seemed to overtake Harry and he dropped to his knees, Hermione rushing to his side. Sirius, who collapsed a second before him, dropped Lee Jordan mid-dip, and fell to the floor, catching himself with his closed fists, a ripple of cracks from his hands. And Neville and Ginny both followed him a few seconds later.

"Damn, they're here," muttered Sirius, quickly casting a dog patronus into the room and thus almost completely negating the dementors' soporific effects.

So deeply was Harry effected that even a minute after Sirius‘ patronus joined Lupin’s, he lay on the ground, shaking the deeply repressed memories of torture, torment, and loneliness flashing through his mind like the receding after-shocks of a strong earth quake. A quiet “evanesco” was cast on the floor where Ginny had been sick. “How- How many are there?” Harry asked in disbelief as he allowed his magical sense to flood his consciousness only to see a swirling mass of black beneath him as it began to fill the castle.

“This might be more difficult than I imagined. Will someone look outside, given the strength of the effect? I doubt they‘re even in the castle yet. That first wave of power was them crossing the ward boundary I believe.” Asked Lupin and a few seconds later there were gasps of shock and dread. “Hundreds! If not a thousand. They are coming on a wave of fog and ice. If anyone else can cast the patronus, the professors need all the help they can get.“

Several seventh years successfully cast the spell. And as the strength of the effect grew, Lupin, Sirius and the seventh years all traded long, boastful and funny stories of times past, sharing funny spells and effects. The first and second years turned to ruckus and rough housing. And still they felt the effects somewhere far away echoing through the halls and the open air, a terrible scream let out longer and longer. A scream Harry recognized, for he had heard that same scream at the end of last year as Tom riddle carved a ritual circle into the bare flesh of Luna Lovegood.

A scream he promised himself the girl would never let loose again and immediately his eyes shifted to a window where he could see Ravenclaw tower. Without knowing he was doing anything he was suddenly up in his dormitory and retrieving his firebolt and he was almost out of the window next to his bed when a brown missile collided with him.

“No Harry! No! You can't.” Hermione yelled Doing her best to push him against the ground and hold him there.

“Let go, Hermione! I need to get to her, I need to help Luna!”

“You can't help her right now Harry!” His friend yelled while trying to restrain his movements. With him still on the broom it was very hard for both of them to make headway in their goals. And with the screams of the poor tortured second year still ringing through the air, Harry was getting more and more frantic to get to the girl. It took several more seconds of pushing and pulling and twisting for more students to show up and finally it was Oliver Wood who shouted “Stupefy!” and struck Harry with a red beam of light from his wand. Harry immediately fell unconscious.
____________________________________

It was several hours later that Harry woke up laying on the couch in the Gryffindor common room. When he opened his eyes he was looking up at the chest and Head of Hermione and he could see and feel the blond hair of Daphnes laying on his shoulder. A soft whisper of voices surrounded them and a noticeable lack of dementor influence.

“Hey Hermione, you look different from this angle too” Harry whispered. His joke got a blush from Hermione and a snort from both her and Daphne.

“Hello Harry.” Hermione said in a whisper as well. “We must stop meeting like this. People are going to start saying you swoon.”

“I could imagine worse people to wake up laying on. I don't imagine Krabbe or Malfoy would be nearly as comfortable.”

“I'm glad to know how well I rate as furniture, Harry, Now what were you thinking you complete dunderhead.”

“I was thinking I needed to save Luna.” Harry said unabashedly.

“Yes she needed saving but to risk flight while there was an entire legion of dementors here? Not all of them were in the castle you know. Sirius said that, that was most likely the entire ministry horde of dementors. They've gone now, thank all the gods but if they had caught you outside, you'd be dead Harry, dead! And where would that Leave me?”

In Harry's head he admitted to himself that it would leave her with the entirety of the potter estate, but he had long decided not to tell her, nor anyone else that tidbit of information. So he said “ probably ahead in your studies without me dragging you down.” This got A snort from Daphne proving she too was still awake.

“If anything Harry, Ide say she's so far ahead now because you push her to do better. Now If you ever do something as stupid as trying to willingly fly Into a horde of dementors I'll Cruciate you, myself and then feed you to your own snake from the toes up. She's quite cross with you as well I can tell, she came bounding up through the pipes in the shower not two minutes after Wood knocked you out. Now go eat as much chocolate as you can. The headmistress cleared out honeydukes, the kitchens, and every muggle confectioner within 100 miles.” She gestured towards a table where a toga wearing house elf placed a fresh chocolate cake and popped away.

“What's going on now?” Asked Harry.

“Well we're still stuck here for the night. The professor's, prefects, and ghosts are doing a full search of the castle to make sure the dementors didn't get a hold of anything they shouldn't have or miss anything; they're not exactly convinced that him being an animagus doesn't change at least have some effect on him.” Said Ron who looked very pale indeed which jogged his memory about Genny and her reaction to the dementors.

“How is Genny?” Harry asked, sitting up slowly.

“She's fine now,asleep, she had about as bad a reaction to them as you did at first.”

“Her Worst memories are more recent Than mine. I didn't think it would have been easy for her.” Harry let out a long sigh. “Did anyone else get bad?”

“Just longbottom.” Said Daphne. “He was shaking like mad.” This statement drew a nod from Hermione and Harry looked around to find him.

“He went to bed already, can't blame him.” said Ron Yawning.

“Speaking of beds, where are you sleeping Daphne?” Asked Harry.

the young blonde snorts in amused derision. “Well the house elves don't do anything by halves. Instead of popping in a temporary bed for me they brought up not only my trunk but my entire bed from my room in the slytherin dorms. Honestly the whole room is so much warmer I might just stay up here.”

They all stayed up abit later chatting before first Ron, then the twins and next Hermione and Daphne followed the rest of the fourth year girls up to bed, In fact a great deal of girls disappeared around the same time around the 1 o'clock Mark. Harry stayed up long after the last gryffindor Student went to bed only moving to throw more logs on the dwindling fire. So deep in his inner contemplation that he didn't feel the slightly familiar weight slide onto the couch and around his shoulders. Nor did he feel or register the sight of another person sitting next to him. Harry was startled slightly as he suddenly realized that Sirius Black was sitting next to him staring into the fire. Harry did not move or give any other sign that he knew the man was there, still he must have given his realization away somehow as it was only once Harry had realized he was there that Sirius began to speak in a deep melancholic voice.

“I worry sometimes. I worry that I'm still there on that God's forsaken island. They, my healers, say that no matter what, no how long it's been or how much time passes I will forever have much worse reactions to the dementors. A scar on my very soul. A more permanent mark than the tattoo they gave me of my prisoner number.” he said deep and Slow, completely forgoing his usual boisterous speech pattern and clutching a spot on his forearm.

“I hear them. When those things are close. I hear Voldemort murdering my mother. Did you know that?”

Black nods without taking his eyes off the dancing flame “Lupin told me.”

“ this time I remembered more. My mum could do wandless summoning. She was fighting side By side with my dad but he told her to grab me and run once she lost her wand hand.” Sirius sucked in a breath then and nodded shakily.

“Your mother was the most fierce witch I've ever met. She and your dad were a terror on the battlefield and the only two other people aside from Dumbledore who could stand Toe to toe against Voldemort. They had successfully fought him off three times before they went into hiding.

All those years in Azkaban I replayed the same three days over and over in my head. Walking into your house. Seeing my brother in all but blood de- and then finding Your mother and that dark lunatic. then you sitting in your crib playing with your bear so unconcerned by that cut on your head. The two days I spent tracking Peter, and then That final confrontation. One minute I was on top of the world. I was an auror, I had a family, and friends. and despite everything we had lost already during the war, I had everything I ever wanted growing up, and then.” And he interrupts his story by snapping. “Gone. Nothing but darkness and cold and fear for the next decade. I failed you Harry. I failed you in ways I can't even begin to explain. But I'm here now. And I don't plan on leaving anytime soon.” Harry nodded and the two spent a long while staring into the fire as it slowly turned to cinder and when it did Harry went to bed, leaving the gaunt haunted face of his godfather behind his eyes relecting the red glowmofnthe embers in the pitch black of the room.

____________________________________

The next day an owl brought Hermione her copy of the daily prophet.

“Ministry bungles security and safety.

After a sighting and reported attack inside Hogwarts school, minister of magic Cornelius Fudge cleared the island of Azkaban of its dementor guard for the first time in 300 years. What resulted was a 1000 member legion of dementors swarming The town of Hogsmeade and the school which went Into total lockdown procedures. Several businesses were broken into by the monsters 30 members of the public were attacked and over 70 were sent to saint mungos. And when they stormed the school they completely disregarded instructions and invaded the common rooms of slytherin and hufflepuff House leading all members to be taken in as well for examination on top of several other students from ravenclaw and gryffindor That collapsed and remained at Hogwarts. Notable Harry potter who's tragic story we have covered previously makes him a prime candidate For dementor sensitivity. Andromeda tonks, Lord Potter's steward had this to say.

“Twice now have the dementors acted out and targeted Lord Potter. I am here today to warn the ministry that if it happens a third time Lord Potter will pursue recompense from those responsible.”

Harry found himself very much in agreement with his Aunt. He was already fully intending to seek retribution for luna. ‘Speaking of.’ Harry thought to himself and Scanned the room for luna. He actually hadn't seen her at all this year. It took him three full scans of the Ravenclaw table to finally realize that the miniscule airy thing sitting completely alone at the end of the table was Luna. He stood up wordlessly and approached the younger girl without noticing anything of his surroundings. Luna was Different, where she once had platinum blonde hair she now has hair the same color as sun bleached bone, cold and lusterless. Her skin was so pale it was translucent. And her eyes were vacant dull pits of silvery Amethyst purple surrounded by dark bags. She bore no expression on her face and if not for the steady rise and fall of her chest marking her breathing, Harry would have assumed she was dead.

“Luna.” Harry said at a total loss for what else to say.

“Don't bother Potter” called A Ravenclaw boy from his year whose name escaped him. “She's totally catatonic, hasn't spoken a word to anyone since She tried to revive vold-”

“She didn't try to do anything! She was possessed!” Came Hermione's voice from beside him. “I'd like to see you try to fight away anything related to he-who-must-not-be-named and see how you handle it!
You all have been bullying her again haven't you! she's not even wearing shoes and it's almost winter! Hidden them from her I suppose. hasn't she been through enough?”

“It's her own fault for coming back where she's not wanted! How are you of all people going to tryouts to deffend-” Harry punched the boy so hard and fast he slumped to the table unconscious.

Luna. Luna.” Hermione said repeatedly Harry bent down in front of her as they continued to try and grab her attention from wherever she was in her mindscape. Finally it was Harry grabbing her hand and saying her name that got her attention to focus slightly and her amethyst eyes to shift slightly over to scan Harry.

“Hello, Harry potter. Hermione Granger. How can I assist you?” The poor girl whispered in a bleak tone voice broken from not speaking for so long.

“I was going to ask you that, Luna. How are you? We heard you scream yesterday from Gryffindor tower.” Harry said quietly.

It took her a minute to answer, whether she was fighting falling back into her stupor or taking stock of herself for the first time in a long time, Harry had no idea. “Ooh I'm fine. Dementors you know. They can be very uncomfortable to be around.” She said, sounding more and more like the girl Harry had talked to the previous year But her voice was still in tatters. And her eyes seemed to go vacant again, as she wandered Back into the pit of her own mind, staring blankly at the still full plate in front of her.

“Right. Errr please Luna if you need to Talk come and find me OK?” And Harry and Hermione watched as she nodded her acknowledgement and then left young girl alone.

“Harry, we need to watch her.” Hermione said, looking back at him in concern.

“We need to do more than that I think.” Harry said as they left the great hall leaving that scene behind and went off towards the library so they could work on their various homework until the feast later that evening.

A note of concern from lord potter found its way to Professor Flitwick. Harry could hear the diminutive professor berating his house all the way from Gryffindor tower that night.

Chapter Text

Ever since his training with the flying serpent Over the summer and unlocking the more attuned mind touch that smara and he shared, he found that his nightmares came far less frequently, and when they did they were far less problematic and if they were to much he had developed the skill to wake himself. It was this new skill that lead to Harry waking up in the early hours of Monday morning just In time to dodge a glint of silver from a knife being thrust at him from above. In an act of pure instinct Harry leapt out of bed. His muscles, strengthened by Oliver Wood's manic quidditch schedule propelled him out of his bed through the curtains that were drawn around him and past his night stand where he grabbed his wand mid air and landed in a crouched and grounded stance with his wand covering the direction the knife came from.

“Damn” came a squeaky voice. before a spell Harry didn't catch the name of blew up with bed. Sending shrapnel in every direction. And Harry returned with piercing and cutting spells at the person who was attacking him.

“Peter Pettigrew, I assume.”

But the man didn't answer; he simply raised his wand and stared, squinting at harry. Pettigrew was a pale and balding man with the sickly halide complexion of a very fat man who had lost an unhealthy amount of weight very quickly. His beady eyes were wide and deranged his skin loose and baggy on his slight frame. And he was filthy living in the sewers didn't do much for cleanliness it seemed. He seemed to be deciding what to do now he obviously had expected Harry to wake up, nor react the way he had. Finally he turned slightly and sent a loud “bombarda!” At the bed of Dean Thomas and simultaneously through the knife he was holding at Harry causing him to duck and dodge out of the way, by the time Harry look again pettigrew was gone and with a blood curdling scream to distract him he didn't see the rat bounding from the room.

But Smara had. And she slithered after his scent trail, while Harry ran over with Seamus and Neville to dig Dean out. At the same time doors were slamming open up and down the tower.

“What in the blazes is going on down here?” Yelled percy Weasley the head boy.

“Petter pettigrew was here, woke me up, Tried to stab me.” Breathed out Harry and he worked to shift a heavy wooden beam from off of Dean who was knocked out and bleeding.

“Pettigrew? Here!? But how did he get in?” Asked Percy as missus Weasley entered the dorm.

“he is a rat animagus seamus he could have snuck in at any time without anyone realizing.” She said wordlessly moving the wood off of Dean with her wand and telling Seamus to pull him to the hospital wing as she conjured a floated stretcher for Dean.

“Everyone stay in the tower I sent a patronus To the head mistress and the castle will most likely be going into lockdown as soon as-” and she was cut off by a screeching wail and a call to the school to remain in their dormitories house elves popped by and handed percy and the prefects sheaves of parchment . And their head of house scampered off after Dean and seamus.

Classes were canceled for that day as they let the dementors into the castle again. Harry had the very displeasing job of being escorted, under heavy patronus guard down to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and opening the chamber once again To allow the dementors to reach through the chamber and the pipes connected to it. Dean was alright, having returned to the domentory at the same time as Harry, his many splinters and bruises were healed nearly instantly according to the boy.

Sirius, as he spent the day entertaining Gryffindor house, told them, Pettigrew barely had the magical power to turn a newt into a cigar box let alone properly cast a bombarda. Smara returned later that night after closing her mind off entirely to focus on her prey and being gone nearly thirteen hours, she reported that pettigrew used a small junction in the pipes far far below the school as a nest it was barely big enough for a man but she found many boxes of discarded food, blankets and several magical torches to warm the small space. He had fled outside of that space and to the lake where the trail went dead.

“Do you think he drowned?” Harry asked as smara and Hermione and himself sat next to the fire late Friday.

“I doubt it, rats are actually very excellent swimmers and can hold their breath for a good long while. Not to mention his magic can sustain him longer than normal rats and they Can hold their breath for around three minutes. It's more than enough time to get to the surface.” Explained Hermione with Smara nodding in agreement on his shoulders.

“You know with the dementors searching this place twice now I've come to the conclusion that if I ever get arrested I'd probably blow myself up before I set Foot near that island. How Sirius isn't mad has got to be a medical miracle. I've been exposed to them two times and I already get chills thinking About it happening again. I could not handle that being my everyday existence.” Harry got a sense of amused displeasure from his statement and a mental image of a giant serpent Cracking open a prison wall flashed through his mind, the image made him feel warm with satisfaction not denying she would do that if it happened.

“I know….”Hermione spoke hesitantly. “That's probably why So many prisoners go mad there, They Can't handle being around those things in those numbers. Well. Aren't You excited about quidditch tomorrow? That will be fun. And take everyone's mind off of everything that's been going on” Hermione said, casting about for a change of subject before landing on quidditch. Which Harry accepted and detailed Oliver Woods' almost ridiculous training regimen for the Hufflepuff game, which did successfully distract Harry enough for him to smile during the exchange.

____________________________________

the next day as Harry entered the great hall to eat before the match a voice called out from the Slytherin table. A voice belonging to one Draco Malfoy, the third year slytherin never did forgive Harry for nearly bankrupting his family. It had taken the Malfoy family nearly three months and if the rumors were true several discreet trips to nocturn ally to recover enough money to lead their usual lifestyle.

The fact that Draco still takes every opportunity to take potshots at Harry either magical or verbal, rankled Harry, and it seemed this morning wouldn't be different.
“Hey, Potter! Are you really going to use that firebolt in a match! against hufflepuff? Of all teams.”

“Well Draco I thought about saving it for our match but I didn't think it would be very sporting. You couldn't catch a snitch even if it flew up your sleeve, I'll figure I'll be nice and give Slytherin a chance, maybe ride an old school broom for the game so you can keep up!” Joked Harry. As several people around him laughed.

“We'll see Potter, I can beat you anytime I want.”

“Yea? Is that why you had to buy your way onto the team this year? AGAIN?” said Daphne to a now pink faced Draco.

“Shut up Greengrass! you blood traitor harl- ahhhh!” Draco fell over in fright midway through his speech because Smara, unseen by everyone In the hall, had slid over to the slytherin table and to Daphne and proceeded to climb her back only to lunge out and hiss at draco baring her needle sharp three inch long fangs at the blonde Ponce, cutting his insult short. Harry walked over as Smara slithered down Daphne's body to come to rest on Draco's chest, staring into his eyes and hissing madly, Harry leaned down at the waist and whispered his translation to Draco so only he could hear.

“Mind your tongue, pray, if you insult a true slytherin in front of me again I shall do your line a favor and eat you.” and Harry stood up straight, used his wand to levitate Smara onto Daphne's shoulders, who began to stroke Smara like she were an overly affectionate cat and not a one thousand year old monster serpent, and went on his way, back to the Gryffindor table. Missus Weasley chastised him for his use of force and threats but a detention was worth it in harris opinion.

Two hours later Harry sat on his new firebolt high, high above the match, so far it had been a slug fest. For the first hour it was each team fighting to win each point. Both teams beaters were on point. The two chasing teams nearly perfectly matched the keepers both on their game and the seekers had precious little to do but race each other around the pitch and try to find a glint of gold. And then the fog set in thick and cold, it brought the game to a near standstill, and the game of tag Cedric and Harry had been playing to an end. with even Lee Jordan unable to truly see what was going on and only the bell charms on the hoops signified goals scored. Harry sat on his broom next to Cedric talking amicably about the game and how Harry liked the firebolt both seekers Knew there was no chance they'd see the snitch, Cedric remarking that they had a higher probability of flying into it. As high as they were, the fog bank was higher still. With a call from Lee Jordan “and with that last goal it's now 140 to 120 for Gryffindor. Let's hope this fog clears soon folks, otherwise we're going to be simulating muggle TV static should be a good lesson for muggle studies anyhow.” That got a laugh from harry because of Cedric'sbewildered face.

“Whats tv static eh?” Asked cedric shaking his head.

“It's errr, hard to explain. Like looking at a moving picture under a layer of rice I guess.” This explanation didn't help as the older boy looked even more confused.

As Harry fruitlessly peered through the fog he saw distant shadows and forms swirling through the fog. The biting cold grew more Powerful by the minute and something clicked at the same time as a mental shout from Smara. “Dementors!” Harry shouted the same for the benefit of his fellow seeker, but it was already to late the fiends were flying far Faster than he thought possible, he dived to the ground to try and escape them down, down, down, and as he fell so to did he fall away from this world, this time.

He fell through a void. seeing nothing but hearing the pleading screams Wizz by him until a new voice came through the darkness accompanied by flashes And jets of various colored lights.

“It's no use Lilly he's too strong we weren't prepared, take Harry and go, I'll hold him off.”

“but James-”

“No lily go I love you, I love Harry! Ho! Protect our son!” Came the voice of James Potter with more multi-colored lights of spells and in the distance a strong cruel laugh.”

“You're alone now you Evil bastard! The Lastranges are dead!” Called James.

“And you will soon join them my friend.” Said the cruel but calm voice of lord voldemort.

“I love you Lilly! Go! Run!” Harry's father said before casting a loud “bombarda!” The lights faded but a yell of “avada- kedavra!” And green light filled Harry's mind with the distant sound of a hollow thump. As something heavy hit the ground. A brisk bang and scraping sounds filled the void before the scene turned familiar. His Mother pleading for his life, to take her own but pleading with the dark lord to spare her son. A second flash of green light through the void of Harry's mind and something from the real world broke through the torment of Harry's worst memories.

“ARRESTO MOMENTUM!” and Harry Potter knew no more. Nothing but soft and gentle humming and somewhere in the deepest part of his mind a warm embrace and a scent of something floral that eased him into the void.

____________________________________

Harry opened his eyes. It was dark outside the windows. The match must have ended hours ago. There was no one at his bedside today, most likely they had been Sent to bed while he was unconscious. At his bedside was a mottled collection of get well soon cards and a small collection of sweets and a golden snitch with a note.

“This was found in your sleeve Interestingly enough, guess it flew up your shirt while you fell. Hell of a game. would do for a rematch though.- Cedric Digory.” Harry read the note and laughed as the two of them had been discussing flying into the snitch before the dementors showed up. With the increased spark of consciousness came tingle in the back of his mind and so he opened himself to Smaras probing.

“Harry!” She said hesitantly. “Are you injured still? Your mind Feels fuzzy.”

“No, I feel fine. mostly, really tired. What happened?

“Dementors, hundreds of them swarmed your match. They made you faint and you fell off your broom and attacked several dozen students. Andromeda has been here for several hours along with those wizards dressed in red. Your cousin is among them. I believe she intends to charge your minister or ministry With child endangerment at the very least.

When the minister showed up your friends had to be restricted to their common rooms. Not that I blame them. When you fell, Little one I- we thought you died. You hit the ground so hard. I felt it through our connection.” And Smara did her best to replay the horrifying Scene even the still images foggy and blurred by motion as they somewhat moved through his mind made Harry feel sick. “Your broom was collected by Ronald and put into your room to look after it until you are released, we knew you would worry about it.”

“I was about to ask if you knew. Who stopped my fall? And what are you up to by the way?

“I am with your aunt. She is currently… I believe the modern turn of phrase is “ripping the minister a new one” and I believe it was the headmistress that witnessed you falling and did her best to slow your descent.

“Ugh gross didn't need that mental image, but correct, What is she Saying?

“Ohhh incompetent this, box his ears that, she'll have his job, you know the usual parental threats of torture and dismemberment. It's quite entertaining. The man even wet himself when I grew To my full size.”

“The minister wet himself?”

“Oh yes. Mister Fudge is an obstinate man in all the worst ways. You criticize his decisions and he digs his heels into the ground deeper denying his plans faults. He's refusing to remove the dementors. And when I made my objections quite clear. He fell to the floor and urinated in his clothes. Andromeda has not stopped her tirade since.”

“How did you manage that?

“I may have shown him my fangs. More closely Than would be considered polite.” This got a tired chuckle out of Harry at the mental image Of Smara leaning over Fudge and exposing her saber length fangs.

“Little one, I can feel how tired you are, like a blanket dragging at my mind, rest, all shall be well and we shall be there in the morning.”

“True.” Said Harry not bothering to argue with the serpent and yawning. “Take Care of Andy for me?

“Of course, little one.”

The next morning he woke up to Hermione and Andromeda watching over him with Smaras familiar weight on his belly. Hermione looked like she hadn't slept well, and Andromeda appeared to have not slept at all.

“Good morning Harry.” A call came from both females.

“It's nice to see you well after what happened yesterday. I'm sorry to get right to business as soon as you wake up but we need to talk about what you wish to do. Officially. You have been slighted and injured by the minister's direct actions. The public will expect you to do something. And on a personal note speaking as your aunt not your steward if you choose To turn the other cheek Here I will flay you right here and now.” Andromeda spoke with a cheerful and friendly voice that flipped to anger in the matter of a single syllable.

“I had no intention of letting him off easy, not to mention I knew you wouldn't accept it if I did. So speaking officially, I lord Harry James Potter do order you, my steward, to bring Cornelius Fudge and the whole of the ministry in front of the wizengamot. I want not only myself represented but every student in this school or at least the ones who have claimed adverse effects from the dementors. Sue them for everything you can sue them for and have him charged with the endangerment of the public of children of my self in particular charge the ministry with everything you can think of until the Wizengamot orders Fudge to pay and to take the dementors back to their usual prison, and if he still resists tell him I will personally eradicate all dementors left on this land. And then himself if I find it necessary.”

“Can you do that harry?”

“I think there are a few items in the potter blood vault That can get the job done, yea.”

“That sounds like an appropriate response but we will not issue that threat until we have to. Making it known your family has such strong artifacts is not wise. I'm proud harry. You've been paying attention.”

“Even if I hadn't, I don't think I'd ask anything different from you. Fudge needs to learn a lesson from this.” Said Harry tiredly. They spent several hours catching up after that discussion before Andromeda left, and Harry was released from the hospital wing. Harry and Hermione found Ron in the Gryffindor common room and appraised him of the situation to which he replied “better you have to deal with that than me” a sentiment that Harry wished he could express.

____________________________________

After that eventful first week of November time began flying by again. The classes were picking up the time it took to complete homework and the time to study steadily increasing the faster the end of term and the Christmas holidays came. Their classes became more and more interesting and professor Vector who currently oversaw the alchemy class brought in Professor Snape and the two performed a practical demonstration of basic alchemy where they used several spells, potions and distallents to transmute hydrogen gas into sustained hellio crystals. A basic alchemical ingredient used to stabilize volatile compounds and aid in the exchange process of fundamental transmutation. Which to Harry is a fancy way of saying helios crystals were alchemical currency, things you used to exchange for other more useful things. The students had to notate the process and list the reasons why the professors did something.

Three times now Lupin had been too sick to teach due to his strange illness and having Sirius step in to fully teach a class. These classes had been eclectic mixes of practical skills training and helpful tid-bits and stories to fill in the gaps in the textbook.

Harry was surprised to find Sirius in Transfiguration one day and was delighted with the rest of the class as they spent their time learning About the process to become, the abilities of, and restrictions for, the animagus transformation. Sirius was a large black dog, or so Harry thought but he was wrong Sirius was one of the rare wizards with a magical animagus form, that is Sirius was a Grim. A large, spectral dog-like creature that likes to live in graveyards and according to Sybil Trelawney and most other fortune tellers, what an omen of death. It turned out the animagus transformation affected the wizard permanently and in various ways related to the animal in which they transform. Benefits like increased hearing, Smelling or more naturally strong or longer lasting stamina. And in siriuses case having a magical animal he inherited the grims ability to skulk and blend in with shadows to a much lesser extent than an actual grim but also drawbacks like an increased sensitivity to fleas, color blindness “which can be nearly effortlessly corrected with a simple spell or potion.” he explained shrugging off this permanent effect.

The first time Harry visited Mister Lupin room after the match Harry was in a terrible mood, malfoy and most of the slytherins had been on him all week about his weakness with the dementors.

“Harry! Come here a second would you?” Lupin called as Harry drug his heels down the corridor.

Malfoy had just been giving a loud rendition of Harry falling off his broom to the slytherins in the great hall and it thoroughly depressed Harry. Hearing the call of one of his favorite teachers Harry made his way over. “Hey, Professor.”

“Please Harry, I wish you would call me Remus, or at least Lupin when we're in private. Now, why The long face? You weren't fighting with Hermione or Ron were you?”

“Oh, no, it was Malfoy and his goons he's been on me alot lately about how badly the dementors affect me, I can normally deal with malfoys crap but when he has his entire peanut gallery. Well-” and Harry shrugged before continuing. Why Professor? Why do they affect me so much more than almost anyone else? Am I just we-”

“It had nothing to do with weakness, Harry. As I said on the train. They bring out the worst memories of your life. And your worst memories are more than enough to make anyone fall off their broom.” This brought Harry's mood up slightly and spent The rest of his visit with Lupin discussing his classes.

There were two other visits to the village of Hogsmeade and Harry discovered there was a theater and concert hall in the village and attended both, never having been to see a play or Orchestra before. Hermione and Daphne attended with him both times, Ron however chose to spend his time and money in honeydukes, where he was chided by his mother, according to Tracy who joined him, for his appalling manners while eating. Tracy seemed to find it funny.

By the time the end of December and the first term at Hogwarts ended Harry was quite ready to pull his hair out, midterm tests were a nightmare with advanced potion tests from Snape, turning in a functional draft of chambers history project and all the other standard testing; the third years felt like wrung sponges. Sitting on the Hogwarts Express speeding his way back to London he was more than ready for the Christmas holidays. Everyone was staying in Blackstone manner again this year Hermione And her parents and the Tonks and even the Weasleys promised to stop by for a few days once they got back from Romania. After tearful reunions were shared on the train platform and Harry's group returned to Blackstone manor for dinner and Harry unlocked the manor for Lupin and Sirius, a veritable feast was had. Everyone ate and talked and joked,even the house elves joined in Toppy and Tuppy making many bawdy embarrassing stories of Sirius and Lupin in their youth, and Harry was very glad to see his newest elf Dobby up and about although he was still not ready for work. Being abused for so long Toppy had ordered him to take a year off while he adjusted to his new life. And quit hitting himself with fire tongs every time he made a mistake.

The next morning Harry sat at The lord desk gathering and responding to the Christmas cards being sent to “lord potter, or Harry potter, or a letter that looked to be written in charcoal by a being with only a slight grasp of the english alphabet -” Haryy, happy christmas! - Hagrid.” When he saw at the bottom of the pile of crisp cards and curled scroll letters, a small neat envelope that had obviously been intercepted by a wizard in the post office as it had a lime green “intercepted” stamp on it. Putting everything aside he wearily grabbed the envelope, it was addressed to him with scratchy but Legible writing it was dated for mid November and the return address sent shiver down his spine.

#4 little whinging, surry.

Opening the envelope he saw the same scratchy writing but the content of the letter sent a Knot of hatred down to the pit of his stomach so deep that a water cup 5 feet away began to rattle and then shatter.

“Harry,

I don't know if this will even reach you but you're the only person I think can help. Mum needs help. It's dad he, well, he's started hitting her don't know when it started but I started boxing and picked up on the bruises you get when you block a punch. They fight nearly every night now, but he threatens her and me when she starts talking about divorce. Please Harry I know we don't owe you a damn thing, but you're the only life line we might have. He started going off the rails last year. I think that man with the beard messed with his brain and it broke. Or he messed with his brain beforehand and stopped Him from being this bad and with him gone its just unlocking. Please respond as fast as you can
-Dudley Dursley ”

After he finished the letter Harry jumped up and ran down the stairs , letter in hand. To find his uncle. Stopping only to grab an expandable Featherlite trunk that resided in the lord Potters study.

When he did find Ted, and when the older man had read the letter he straightened up all levity of his morning coffee forgotten and a scowl adorned his face.

“I can aparate out of here Harry, we should go now if i remember correctly your uncle should be at work.” and he took Ted's hand and with a loud ‘crack’ and Harry experienced being sucked through a rubber tube for the first time since his hearing, they appeared in the balcony garden of number 4 Privet Drive. the back garden looked forlorn covered in snow and the rose bushes he used to care for were often dead and devoid of leaves or flowers. Harry sucked in a breath and steeled himself for what was next. He knocked perhaps a bit harder than he meant to. And a few seconds later the door opened revealing the once hulking mass of Dudley Dursley the boy had slimed down Quite a bit in the almost 2 years since he had seen his cousin. The boy's blonde hair was slightly darker, his clothes a bit looser, his mouth had a split On his lower lip, and he was smiling at Harry.

“Got my letter then finally? I wasn't sure how long it would take our mail to find your lot if it even would.”

“Err yea. We- our kind have people in the post office l. Instead of sending it to me the sent it to my desk at home and I only just got there last night. You've lost weight, Dud” Harry explained and this received a nod of understanding from the shockingly mature Dudley Dursley. Harry looked over the boy's shoulder and Dudley correctly guessed who he was looking for.

“He's, at work. Bastard works as much as possible now. And when he's home…” He shakes his head looking down. Before looking at ted next to harry. “Who's this then?”

“ oh yeah, that's right you never met him last time. This is my uncle, of a sort, more like my dad's third cousin in law, but aside from you and aunt Petunia his wife is my closest living blood relative. I'll explain it better once we're away. Anyway Ted Tonks met Dudley Tursley, Dudley, Ted Tonks. He's also my lawyer.
Where's aunt Petunia.”

Dudley thumbed behind him and Stepped Aside limping slightly to let the two wizards inside. When they reached the TV room he saw his aunt for the first time in nearly Two years. And who ever she was expecting it wasn't Harry. And what ever Harry expected to see it wasn't this. His aunt always very thin was now near skeletally boney, he hair was limp and lifeless she was standing in a manner that let Harry know she had at the very least sore ribs and her face was covered in thick concealing makeup that didn't totally cover up the two black eyes or the reset broken nose, which was still swollen. She opened her mouth to speak but he held a hand up to stall her.
“Take this, you and Dudley gather everything you want to take with you. I don't know if your computer games will Survive being in here. It's Extended magically.”

“He smashed them anyway,” Dudley sighed. Used my turtle To do it.” That made Harry curl his lip in disgust.

“I can help,” said Ted “My wife came up with a very useful spell; you just gather everything up and I'll put it away.” and so close to 4 hours later when Petunia had gone through everything and took everything she wanted either out of necessity, sentiment, or spite, like half of Vernon Dursley's very expensive golf set. Or the entire jewelry box she had received from Vernon's mother when she passed away filled with antique jewelry from the Dursley ancestors. The entire collection was arranged in stacks and piles around the trunk Harry brought as Ted lifted his wand and Yelled clear and bright “Pack!” and he waved his wand in a merry rhythm while the desired items were lifted into the air and deposited neatly and ordered inside the trunk. The entire packing took another thirty minutes and they had all stopped paying attention to the time. After everything was packed and Ted disappeared for a few seconds to retrieve Andromeda and Lupin it was zero hour as Vernon Dursley had already pulled Into the driveway.

As they were organizing passengers, Dudley for Andromeda Lupin for Harry with the trunk and Petunia with Ted, Harry's walrus of an uncle was unlocking and opening the door and as he entered the living room already raging about his day he was stopped dead.

“Petrificus totalus! Shouted Harry, as Vernon crashed to the ground, as stiff as a frozen board. Petunia stood over her husband for a few seconds before dropping a letter on his chest. And then stamping on his nose. And with that Harry was sucked into a type tube of nothingness. when they reentered reality they appeared on the front gates of blackstone manor. Which the two non magicals, who were heaving on the ground could see yet.

After the two new arrivals had recovered and Lupin vanished their sick. His aunt stood up and looked around and through the gate that was protecting apparently an empty hill.

“wha- boy. Don't tell me you live on a hill.” Dudley too seemed apprehensive as well but kept quiet.

“Don't worry there's Plenty of space, it's just protected. Listen and watch. I love this bit. The home of the Potter family resides on top of blackstone hill. And I welcome you Petunia Evans and Dudley Dursley to my home.” And Harry bowed deeply and with great flourish as something clicked inside their heads and Harry knew they were seeing the manner come into being as if being revealed slowly through an impenetrable fog bank. Dudleys mouth was gaping and Petunia was shaking her head back and forth. As Harry, Ted and Andromeda escorted the two non magicals up the long drive and into the main entrance way of the manor his two family members were still shocked but now at the wealth and refinement on display. Petunia stopped and stared at a still portrait of Harry's parents that had been made since he was last here and he hadn't noticed it the previous night. In an awed voice his aunt spoke.

“She. Your mother said your dad had money, but I always thought he was a feckless layabout. They lived in that tiny shack in… where ever it was god something I never went.”

“Godric's hollow.” The voice of Sirius black sounded from behind them. “I knew James better than anyone, aside from Lilly, that is, and I can tell you, he was In Fact a feckless layabout. But he was also from one of the oldest bloodlines in Britain. What you see around you is more than three thousand years of wealth building. He lived in that shack because he couldn't stand to live here where the memories of his parents, both of whom died n9t a year previously haunted him.”

Dudley was looking around the main entrance but not wandering to far from his mother.

“I'm sorry to say, Dudley that we don't have much in the way of The entertainment you're used to around here. No TV or video games work in this house. We do have a very substantial library with a pretty big collection of non magic friendly books and there's a game room a few floors up with billiards and darts and even a few bowling lanes. There's also large grounds you can run around and explore.” Said Harry wanting his cousin to enjoy what time he spends here.

“There Is also a workout room in the basement” Andromeda Said. “I took the liberty Of having it installed it's every modern, every weight lifting apparatus I could find and a fully autonomous boxing gym as well. I believe boxing is still popular among non magicals?” She spoke at the end asking a question and Dudley and Petunia nodded. “Excellent. All though. You'll need someone with a wand to switch difficulties on the training dummy.”
With Dudley asking Harry to show him the game room, Petunia disappeared with Andromeda Ted and Sirius; he didn't hear every word the adults spoke in hushed tones but he did hear firewhiskey And something else about wine.

As they walked Hermione met them coming from the dining room. “Hello Harry, who's this? You didn't tell me you were having any other guests-” but she stopped, she must have noticed a resemblance.

“Now Hermione wait.”

A spark crackled through her hair as she stared at Dudley ignoring the obvious Injuries “Don't you tell me to wait Harry Potter! This is him isn't it! This is your cousin! You one you told me about! The one who. Who-”

“Yes. He is. Yes he is. But it's not his Fault Hermione!” He jumped as the spark of magic arched from her hair to the ground. He pulled out his wand and hit her with a cheering charm. So strong was her anger that it mearly calmed her down enough to actually listen. And it was a short time later that a shame faced Hermione was apologizing to Dudley for her outburst.

“Don't be sorry. I was a little Burk a few years ago. I probably still would be if my dad didn't start-" Dudley stopped speaking and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Treating you like he did harry?” This got a sharp “Hermione!” from Harry but Dudley seemed to take it in stride looking down and nodding with a shamefully grimace.

“Hermione, I was going to give him a tour of this place and take him up to that game room on the third floor. Would you like to come with us?” After Hermione's nod they all started walking and Dudley was amazed when they came across one of the few talking portraits in Potter Manor, this one was of an austere and frightening looking woman in medieval regalia named Diedre potter. She hung on the second floor and spent her time criticizing the posture and bearing of those who walked before her, except for Hermione whom she seemed to like.

When they arrived at the game room and spent a few hours playing darts and billiards and bowling and a few other games the room had available. Dudley was looking out the window staring over the expanse of grounds that Harry's estate held. “What am I going to do Harry?” the boy said most likely seeing harry's reflection approach him in the glass.

“What do you mean Dud?” Harry asked, truly concerned for his cousin.

“I mean with mum and dad divorcing I'll have to give up my place in smeltings, mum can't afford the tuition but, well, all my friends are there.”

“Don't worry about that right now, as soon as I saw your letter I had decided what I was going to do. Blackstone manor is the Home to my family. Despite the past and our history, this place can be your home now as well. Let's put the past behind us, and start over. I think my mother would have liked that. And the Potter family will take care of your tuition, don't worry about it.”

A voice came from behind him and all three teens turned to face it. “Would you really offer that Harry?” Aunt Petunia said as she stood in the middle of every adult in the house the Grangers were standing off to her left. Sirius And Lupin grinning at each other leaned against the pool table beyond Hermione's parents and the Tonks family taking up her right side.

“Err. Yea to me the past is gone and done with. I think I can blame the events of my life thoroughly on Dumbledore and Vernon. You and Dudley can stay here. I'll pay for his schooling. And you can do whatever you wish.” Harry said as a teary aunt Petunia rushed to him and wrapped him in a hug. Whispering her thanks.

Chapter Text

Harry sat on a couch in his grandfather's lounge watching his guests mingle after a long night of dancing and socializing. With the arrival of the Weasleys three days prior to Christmas a quiet and sad Petunia was more Or less ripped out of her shell my missus Weasley's flamboyant attitude and refusal to let the woman marinate in her own misery, which Harry was grateful for as He had no idea how to help his aunt who had withdrawn into herself over past week. Luckily for Harry however, aunt Petunia and missus Weasley bonded over home making and other housewife activities, how non magical cleaning products stack up to their magical counterparts, if using a spell to speed up the rise of bread dough actually affected its taste or texture. Or if a 6 o'clock dinner was better then an 8 o'clock supper for sending growing children to bed with a full belly. Dudley bonded with the Weasley twins very quickly as he was amazed at the magical sweets and candies they had taken to designing. And he in turn showed them little of what he had learned in the Smeltings academy boxing club, Harry didn't like the evil glint in the twins' eyes.

Harry found it very amusing when, after Christmas had come and gone and wizarding society began turning up to the manor for the yearly new years ball, Dudley met Daphne for the first time and the usually confident to a fault Dudley Dursley became embarrassed and flustered as soon as Harry's blonde friend spoke to him. It was rather amusing to watch Dudley try to dote upon the girl the day before the ball, even if it made Harry's stomach lurch in some weird and unrecognizable way whenever she laughed at one of his rather crass or awkward jokes or stories from his and Harry's childhood. Late one evening when Harry was going through his various letters, receipts, and statements Dudley found him.
____________________________________

“Hey Harry, what are you up to?” Dudley Spoke suddenly, startling the young lord as Harry was focused on a letter from his parseltongue mentor Mister Chemalli from Mexico.

Taking a deep breath to calm his suddenly racing heart and gently placing down his wand which he had grabbed on reflex Harry Spoke. “ nothing much just answering my letters and going through some paperwork, it's a normally a full time job to manage a normal wizarding house, and the potters holding is about four times bigger than the average holdings and i have about one third the time to do it all because of school goblins extends their usual deadlines for me it's very thoughtful of them.”

“Goblins?, like the errrr.”

“Yea little, just like those, they run through wizard bank, in England anyway. I'll take you there some time if you want.”

“I'll, errr, think about it, magic is still, err, uncomfortable.

Hey, So, tell me about that Daphne girl I met earlier.” Dudley spoke in a very forced casual tone.

“ Is that your angle then? “ Harry snickered. “ Well she's a very prim And proper young lady, what we refer to as a “pureblood princess” at seeing the defeated look on his cousin's face Harry laughed again. “Dont worry she's not a real princess it's what the wizarding world uses to refer to heiresses of the old “pureblood wizarding families.”

“What's a “pureblood?”

“All magic families, no non-magical or people like my mum , who are called muggleborns, in the bloodline for at least five generations.”

“Oh, does that, err, matter?”

“Not really? In a political sense yes and opportunities open easier for the purebloods becuase they're old families and Many of them write the laws of the land so they write laws that favor them, But magically, no I don't think it matters at all, my mum was muggleborn and she supposedly outclassed everyone, same thing with my friend Hermione, and a classmate Dean Thomas is also very good with magic, he does better than many “pureblood” students, of course that might just be because they're lazy, or that they take magic and their family wealth for granted, I don't know.”

“She didn't seem like that, Very “down to earth, mum said.”

“Yea, Daphne is great, but that is a very new attitude her father is more traditionalist than she is and by all accounts he seems like a liberal compared to his father, they didn't join the dark side in the last war, not publicly at least but Daphne would admit her grandfather believed the nutter who killed my mum had the right idea.”

“But she doesn't think like that?” Dudley asked, his voice dripping with trepidation.

“No Daphne is very liberal she won't have a problem befriending you.”

“Thanks couz!” Dudley clapped Harry on the shoulder and ran off while Harry frowned at the large inkblot that now decorated the letter he had been writing to mister Chemalli, sighing in frustration as he searched the small collection of miniature spellbooks for the ink syphoning charm

Another lurch happened when Daphne chose to dance with his cousin first during the ball though it was very amusing to watch Dudley attempt to ballroom dance and Daphne taking extra steps to avoid having Dudley step on her toes.

The pit of Harry's stomach was quickly forgotten however as he was dragged onto the dance floor by his best friend and danced the night away with Hermione and then Dora and then a slew of other females but mainly Hermione and Dora, whom he had not seen or talked to in quite some time as she was busy with the Auror academy.

“Your cousin is quite fun Harry, quite the turn around from how you described him in the past.” Daphne said as she and Harry finally took a turn together across the dance floor.

“Being around Andromeda will do that to you, she's had him reading books on social manners and drilling lessons on proper Behavior into him for the past week. I think she's also working through her own frustrations on how I was raised even if she doesn't mean to. I can't tell you how many times I've heard some variation of “you're a direct relation to one of the most famous and powerful families in our realm and by Freya you'll act like it.” over the past 2 weeks.

“I'm sure you're right, Andromeda is a formidable witch, how has your aunt taken to the manner?” And Harry shared about the first time he had found his aunt roaming around the manor by herself.

____________________________________

Harry had to use the manors wards in order to find his aunt after Dudley became worried not having seen her that day. When Harry entered the room she was in he found it to be a third floor sun room used in times past to most likely grow potion ingredients that needed more care than the outside greenhouses could afford to provide. Now the wooden planters stood empty and bare but ready as ever to bring life from seeds and dirt. His aunt stood at a window that overlooked the south facing portion of Harry's grounds and the village beyond the front gates.

“Aunt Petunia?” Harry said gently, still managing to make the woman jump.

“Yes?” She said as she turned to face him.

“Is there anything wrong? Dudley was worried about you. Had me come search for you.”

“Oh.. I'm fine. Just….” And she looked around the room as if searching for a thing to say. “ I was just doing some thinking and having a look around. I still haven't got a tour from you, you know? How can I navigate this place if the lord of the manor doesn't show me around? Like, this? What even is this room? I know you have large green houses on this property so why have this?” She pointed outside where Far in the distance you could see the large glass buildings whose windows were covered in fog from the warm humid air inside them.

“I don't know the purpose of every room in this music box of a manor.” Harry groused eyebrows furrowed with the slight irritation that crept into his voice before sighing and calming himself down. “But if I were to guess this room was for growing plants that needed a lot more care and maintenance than most other ones. For example There's a plant called “Durin's grace” that's a key ingredient to some very potent potions. It can only grow in complete darkness and stillness. It's so fragile that one graze of a falling feather feather will make the plant fall apart. At least that's what I've read in some of Snape's advanced potion books.” Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck. Aunt Petunia's face pinched slightly at the name Snape.

Over the next hour and a half he walked around his home and showed his aunt his family history. And told her what he knew of the building and why rooms like the miniature library on the fourth Floor or why his aunt most certainly could not enter the storage room hidden behind a staircase that hid a collection of old magazines.

____________________________________

“She actually took up residence in a bedroom down the hall from that sunroom she found and is growing a bunch of magical varieties of flowers, apparently she always wanted to be a florist. She helped Andromeda organize the flower arrangements for the evening.” He said gesturing to a table arrangement As the spun together.

“She has a knack for it. I think the arrangements are quite beautiful.” Daphne said smiling curtsying as the song and their dance ended.

Harry sat alone watching his guests mingle. It was now 1:30, the new years came and the party had been rounding down slowly. Remus Lupin and Sirius Black suddenly appeared. While men had rosy cheeks, sirius’ where much more prominent showing that his godfather was a bit more deep in his cups than his shabby uncle.

“Hello Harry,” said a smiling Lupin. “I couldn't help but overhear a couple of crotchety old warlocks complaining about your overt show of wealth at dinner and I realized that they were quite correct, you did not have the traditional Silver utensils out that were marked with the potter crest, out of curiosity would you care to share why?”

Harry sucked in a breath. “Uhh yea, the silverware had an odd reaction to a new polish the elves tried and there wasn't enough time to untarnish them and repolish them with a different polish before the ball so we just pulled those out of deep storage. Apparently that set is about 4 hundred years old and made of iron dipped in gold. So not quite an overt show of wealth even if they are a bit pricey still.”

“Ahh see sirius, i told you Harry wouldn't spend thousands of galleons on new silverware.”

“Well, it was a legitimate concern, it's something my mother did more than once and she only bought goblin silver.”

“A fine point padfoot, a fine point.”

The three sat in silence for a minute as they watched and listened to the guests in the lounge talk and laugh in indistinguishable murmurs, until Sirius broke the silence in an emotion filled whisper.

“I never thought I'd be back here, not after charlus, or James….. not after that night. I didn't know how good it would feel being back at one of these stuffed shirt parties. But-” Sirius took a deep breath and looked at Harry. “but it feels good, great, really, I'm thankful you decided to carry this tradition on, Harry. It's a great way to memorialize your family. It's a great prank too, your dad hated these parties with a fervor he normally reserved for Snivilous.”

“Who?”

“Snape, Harry, that is a very immature name your dad and Sirius concocted for Snape.” Lupin interjected.

“Oh! I never put that together, I knew Snape didn't like my dad but for some reason I didn't connect that you all went to school together.”

“Oh my, yes, you see we were all actually in the same year at hogwarts, we marauders in Gryffindor and he in slytherin, and I'm sorry to say we, uhh, didn't like each other very much, your father was the height of cool in the school, and Snape was, well, to be frank, not, he always seemed angry at your father for something or another, jealous, I think of your father's talent on the quidditch field.”

“It certainly didn't help that James and I were two of the only people in the school that could wring a smile of Lilly other than him, they were friends you see, knew each other growing upnor something like that, and once she started hanging around us? Well, everything that was already between us, dialed up to eleven.”

“But, why if they were friends wouldn't that bring you all closer?” Asked Harry.

“Aren't you doing extra potions with him? You should ask him about our fourth year sometime. I know that you know that Snape and I don't get along, but if you want context as to why, well, it's not really my story to tell.”

Around that time Hermione bustled up to him and demanded one more dance before the dance floor closed out and he was whisked away By the iron grip of his best friend.
____________________________________

After a long night of dancing and partying and avoiding talking to his “peers” i.e. dodgery old men that sat on the wizengamot and seemed to enjoy talking about nothing other than departmental budgeting, and a further few days of Harry spending his time working on his holiday work, potion making - The elves liked having fresh cleaning potions and asked Harry to make them from Charlus' Recipe rather than buying the store bought variety. And spending Time relearning how to be with his blood relatives in a non threatening relationship; it was time to return to school. Instead of apparating which every non magical with them hated they piled into a stretch limo that Andromeda had purchased with the help of the Grangers. She had used Harry's privileges as a lord to get the limo enchanted legally.

“It's enchanted the same way that the Ministry's cars are plus a magically expanded “boot” as Ted and Dan say the area is called.” Explained Andromeda. Harry climbed in after helping the girls inside and sat in between Hermione and Daphne after they pulled him down between them. Dudley sat to the right of Daphne and next to his mother, who was in deep conversation with Cyrus Greengrass about her possibly doing floral arrangements for the spring garden party. Hermione's Parents were talking to Andy and Ted while the latter drove the car.

Their first stop of the day was reached remarkably fast as within an hour of them leaving Blackstone manor in Wales they were pulling up to the front gates of Smeltings academy in the southwest of England. Dudley got a round of farewells from everyone, even Andromeda stopped him before he disembarked.

“Now Dudley, I know your father never put much stock in your education. But as the Potter steward I must warn you if we receive anything below a B from you this term, not only your mother but I will show up and discuss what is bringing your grades down. And you must stick to the diet we discussed over Christmas, a cake or sweets every now and then won't hurt but if you want to meet your goals, then you need to be properly dedicated.”

“Yes ma'am.” Dudley said in his newly acquired bashful voice.

“Good bye Dudley it was very nice getting to meet the new you. Keep it up.” Smilled daphne. This got a blush and a nod from Dudley.

“Mind your friends Popkin, that Piers is bad news I think.” Said aunt Petunia as she wrapped Dudley in her arms.

As the boy left the limo they seemed to have popped away, very suddenly they were at the end of the block having just gone through a changing traffic light. Andromeda seemed to be very emotional with his cousin's departure and Harry deeply wanted to ask why but something in him kept him quiet. Dan's hand on his shoulder was a quiet sign that he made the right choice in his silence. It was a very short ride after that, that they pulled up to Kingscross, Harry, having listened to Daniel Granger espouse the glories of the new dental drills they had acquired was nearly asleep and was startled back to reality as his two friends pulled him from the car and pulled him to the platform arms looped through his as they walked

For the first time ever, Petunia Evans wished and even hugged Harry farewell, promising to tell him more about his mother's childhood upon his return to Blackstone, Something she had been far too emotional to do over the holiday. And the adults soon left. It was still nearly two hours before the train had to leave but Harry didn't mind, the adults were heading to the ministry and he was very sure it would be a memorable morning for everyone involved.

The train ride back from the winter holidays was always just as packed and rowdy as the start of the year. Many of their classmates stopped by and as the journey was half way done it seemed that Malfoy could no longer resist his seemingly obligatory visit to Harry's Harry and his friends.

The door to their compartment was flung open with enough force to break the glass, which fell tinkling to the ground. “Potter! How dare you spurn my family!”

Harry, rolling his eyes, chose to point his wand at the door and cast “reparro” , fixing the glass back into its place before answering. “And, just how, Draco, did I spurn your family? I can't recall any business we've had since your father broke our contract.”

“You didn't invite us to the new years ball. We are pure bloods of the sacred twenty eight and we deserve to not be insulted in such a petty manner!”

“Well my family is no longer pure blood and we've never been in the sacred twenty eight so I don't really see how that pertains to my family's traditions in the slightest.” Harry said calmly, not even looking at the spoiled wannabe princeling standing in the doorway flanked as he always was by Krabbe and Goyle.

“Hey Krabbe, had a good holiday?”

Krabbe, whose family was at the new year's ball looked awkward and said. “It was fine.” While looking at Draco who was obviously seething.

“four families rescinded their contracts after that night!” Draco said through clinched teeth.

“Well that's not my fault is it? So people saw that your old beaten and abused elf dobby was looking happy and healthy serving the bar at my party. I didn't tell them anything other than "Dobby works for me now.” After several of your father's associates recognized him.”

“It's all your fault you over bloated half blood! Your Stepping too far out of your place Potter and-”

“Yea, yea” Harry said, interrupting Malfoy with a wave. “The usual threats of death, dismemberment, terror and horror like I've never known.” And not thinking Harry gestured with his hand and Malfoy seemed to trip backwards and the door shut locking itself while Harry stepped up to draw down the blind on the window. The door rattled as the three snakes began hitting it trying to open the door but stopped and ran off suddenly. Harry opened the door after a swift series of knocks revealing the head boy and girl Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater. Not that Harry was paying much attention, he was staring at his hand confused at what he had just done, but his attention was stolen away from his apparent Wandless magic as Hermione called out.

“Percy! I thought you would have been at the castle with the rest of your family already?”

“I would be but I am the head boy, you know and leaving Penelope alone to sort all this mess out would hardly be fair would it?” Percy said in an overly officious, pompous tone. “Now what was all that about?” He said cooking a thumb down the train.

“Oh. That was just Malfoy flashing his bravado again.” said Daphne" I'll have the slytherin prefects sort him out don't worry.

“Oh! No, Daphne, we'll speak to them, it is our job after all. It's nice to see you again. You looked lovely at Harry's new years bash.” said Penelope.

“You looked quite lovely yourself, you brought a certain amount of class that the Weasley clan can never seem to manage on its own.” Daphne said, throwing a smirk and a wink to Percy who harumphed in response crossing his arms and smirking At the good natured joke.

“Stay out of trouble won't you?” Said Percy before nodding and pulling his counterpart away.

When they finally arrived back at Hogwarts and found Ron at the Gryffindor table regaling Seamus, Lavender Brown and a host of other third year students who had not made, or warranted an invitation to the Potter new years Ball. He was telling a story from late that evening where Ron managed to beat one of Harry's guests, A mister Reznov Prekovovich, who was an international grandmaster of the wizards chess game. In reality the man had been too drunk to stand but Harry wasn't going to rain on Ron's parade like that.

“Have you told them the part where Tracy Davis and the twins jinxed your shoes to do the two step Ron?” Harry said more loudly than necessary while sitting down. Ron stuttered causing the group to all laugh.

“No, I haven't gotten to that part yet.” Ron said with venom in his voice. “Want to tell your story of making doe eyes at Greengrass while she was dancing with your cousin!” Harry knew Ron was trying to embarrass him but Harry knew how to diffuse those situations very quickly.

“No I hadn't yet and yea I did what of it? She's pretty? Right Hermione?”

“Well. Black silk and onyx rhinestones aren't my taste exactly, but it was rather well put together on her I must say.” She responded while elbowing Harry in the ribs and narrowing her eyes at Ron. “Ron, that response was very unwarranted. Harry was just poking a bit of fun at you and you had the right to point out who he was paying attention to that night trying to embarrass him. It would be much more appropriate to tell them how Sirius turned Harry's hair blonde and his robes pink during his speech.” Harry nearly spat his drink out.

“Yeah, Ron, that's not cool, especially since, the way I hear it, Hermione was the one dancing with him the most, right, Hermione? That's what that ravenclaw girl Marrietta said.” Lavender Brown said in a conspiratorial whisper. Harry and Hermione met eyes and blushed.

Thirty minutes later owls flooded into the great hall with an edition of “the evening prophet” something must have happened and Harry thought he had a clue as to what. Hermione picked up the closet copy and began to read aloud.

“Charges filled!

You read that right folks, we here at the daily prophet can confirm through eyewitness testimony that charges of over 1,800 counts of child endangerment, 1,800 counts of child abuse,1,800 neglect, 1,800 willfull endangerment of minors, 14 counts of attempted murder, 5 counts of attempted line theft, and hundreds of counts of public endangerment have been brought against the minister of magic and the ministry It's self by a group of concerned citizens being lead by Amilia Bones and Andromeda tonks the steward of house Potter. Allegations of receiving bribes and political corruption have also been made against the minister.

We here at the daily prophet are shocked and appalled that such actions have been brought to light especially considering the international spotlight our Country is currently under due to the incoming quidditch world cup and a further “secret international event” purported by the ministry to be coming later this year. How many more embarrassing situations is our minister going to put his country through before he is brought to heel by the wizengamot.

For full details of Fudges floundering policies while in office see page four.” Hermione stopped reading and rifled to page four and continued reading.

“Your aunt does not mess about, does she, Harry?” Said Ron scanning the list of charges from another copy of the newspaper he acquired. “But wait. That's way too many charges if they're for the students in Hogwarts there are only about 600 of us I think?”

“Maybe they're being charged for each event? 600 times three events is 1800 after all.” Hermione said in a distracted tone, still reading. “Ahh! I knew it, Harry, you remember that horrid law someone tried to pass at the start of the year? To be able to slaughter magical species like werewolves and centaurs with impunity, that was Fudge's own under secretary who drafted that bill. It says here look.

“Our minister angered the werewolf friendly countries of Switzerland,Finland, Norway, and Sweden, several months ago when his own under secretary tried to sneak in a bill in an emergency session of the wizengamot that the minister sponsored, that would allow the rampant slaughter of sentient magical species regardless of if the victim species was dangerous, criminal, or threat in any way.”

How foul that woman must be, absolutely sickening.” Said Hermione in a huff. A few minutes later Daphne walked up and joined them, dragging her sister along for once and they all discussed their own families' policies towards dealing with human sub-species, as Hermione called them. From Neville detailing his grandmother's rather old time view of keeping them at a distance to Daphne explaining her father was nowhere near as obstinate on the subject as her grandfather had been and opened relations to trade with the dwarves in Poland and the elvish colonies for their wine. Harry didn't know how his family treated sub or part humans in the past and made a note to ask Sirius and Toppy about the subject.

____________________________________

The cold winter months gave way faster than anyone realized. January slid to February which melted into March. The time passed with lessons and friends and work. Harry was one of five students who remained in Snape's advanced course working on potions that are fourth year level and need actual skill to brew according to Snape, which meant Harry was probably brewing sixth year potions at the minimum. His usual potions class which the head mistress refused to allow the advanced students out of during this “trial period” was spent mastering advanced ingredient preparation techniques.

Charms class went on a full spring cleaning unit of lessons and Flitwick had the students going around the school cleaning it spotless to practice Turgeo, Scourgify, Lavaré a spell that makes dirty dishes clean themselves. Evanesco, and a few others were mastered in the months post Christmas, cleaning had never been more fun. Especially when Flitwick made cleaning a centuries old abandoned potions lab on the third floor a contest with fifty points going to the person that cleaned the most, which was Hermione in the end.

In Transfiguration they were mastering cross species switches starting from rats to guinea-pigs, guinea-pigs to guinea fowl, guinea fowl to flamingos. Harry still couldn't decide what purpose any of this served but it was very fun at least and Harry and Hermione always managed the spell days before anyone else.

In defense against the dark arts Lupin and Sirius talked their class through almost every magical beast and plant in the British Isles. And something else occurred to Harry after one such lesson.

“ Harry, I was hoping I could have a word.” He called to Harry as he was leaving the room.

Ok well two things actually. the first I was hoping you could ask Smara if she would consent stand in on my seventh year class?” Harry was about to agree when a voice echoed in his head. “I'll do it little one. It would be nice to be admired so openly.”

“She'll do it.”

“Most excellent, the other thing was, well me and Sirius were talking and discussing your problem with the dementors and seeing how powerful and advanced you are, and that the ministry is dragging their knuckles with the courts, I'd like to offer you lessons in casting the Patronus charm, after all just because they stayed away from the ravenclaw match doesn't mean they'll be so courteous of the slytherin match up. This is a highly advanced spell Harry some consider it above NEWT level so, what do you say?”

“I say that would be brilliant, can I invite Hermione and Ron?"

“Of course! The more the merrier! And that might very well help things along.” Thus that next weekend Harry found himself standing between Hermione and Daphne. Ron had baulked at the thought of so much extra work to master a spell he didn't see himself needing since “Well they're going to be gone soon anyway right? The court dates were finally called” so he had invited Daphne instead.

The three students stood in Lupin's office and were listening intently to his instructions.

“Now remember you have to have a supremely happy memory focused; crystal clear in your mind, you can use the same visualization techniques you use in Transfiguration to achieve this result but it does take extra focus to recall a memory instead of a still image of an animal.for example, I can, to this day remember the face of Saphora Abbot, when we marauders jinxed the group of slytherin girls that had been bullying her into looking like the muggle archetype of a mummy and had them singing and dancing to the song “the monster mash." and he cast a glowing wolf patronus. “Now we won't really know if you're sufficiently happy until you try to cast the spell so take a minute to think of the happiest memory you have and visualize it and keep the feeling of the latter memory in your heart, let your magic build around it, flow through and then cast your patronus.” It took the three teens nearly ten minutes before one of them was ready to try and to no one's surprise it was Hermione who raised her wand and cast “expecto potronum” despite nothing happening. Everyone could see the drain it had on her energy. Daphne attempted The spell next and then Harry tried, it repeated this way for nearly 30 minutes with Lupins and Sirius constant support at their failures until with a spectral whooshing whistle a spray of silver mist came out of Harry's wand. That tiny jet of silver took Harry to his knees with the unexpected surge of magic it took from him.

“Harry!” A twin shout of concern came as both girls rushed to help him up.

“I'm fine, thanks, I got something that time but Your right Lupin, that is exhausting.”

“I don't want to push you three too far. This was excellent progress today. miss Granger miss Greengrass dont get discouraged at Harrys progress those who have troubled upbringings can more readily call forth happy memories

I think we should meet two or three times a week after classes. Are any of you joining the dueling club again this year? Chambers will be restarting it, come spring time.” All three nodded. “Yea, I had a blast last year. I wondered why they didn't have it again.” Said Harry.

“Well, ask next time Potter?” Daphne began teasingly. “For your information, the normal season for the dueling circuit starts in April and goes until June. They most likely did what they did last year to provide a constant distraction from all the trouble.”

Harry nodded at that explanation. “But we're still too young to join the normal tournaments right?”

“Correct, like last year we'll have our own practice bouts and classes.”

____________________________________

By the first day of spring nothing had been seen nor heard of Peter Pettigrew. To many Hogwarts students it seemed he had been scared off after he last tried to assault Harry, not that Harry, nor his friends, nor his would-be uncles actually believed that. Harry was getting twitchy, every squeak or scratch was the deranged animagus even Smara's constant presence had only brought Harry so much comfort.

Classes were continuing and Harry had to comfort Ron as he was put into the same classification As Krabbe and Goyle by Professor Chambers after the Professor had them turn in the work they had in the project so far and Ron was one of 5 students who turned in less than a foot of writing. Not that Harry or Hermione put much effort into comforting Ron; they had really long given up on getting Ron to take his education seriously. Chambers had given him an extra week and so Tracy, Hermione and Harry had offered to assist him in writing his essay, with many tuts in Hermione's case.

The first day of spring also brought minister Fudge before the wizengamot for the first session of the year. No student was called to testify and according to that evening's addition of the evening prophet, the case was so cut and dry Elfius Doge, the man that succeeded Dumbledore as chief warlock, ended Madame Bone's testimony early. In the end fudge had been ordered to pay 300 Galleons to each student and 500 more to the ones like Harry who had been hospitalized and then fined 15,000 Galleons for wasting the wizengamot's time. The wizengamot ordered the ministry to retract all but ten dementors from the school grounds by that night. by the time the first rays of the morning the sky, the atmosphere of the school had a lightness and levity that Harry had not experienced since his first year before he came into contact with Hagrid pet dragon

Harry had spent the past month training his snakes sense he could now hold it for more than a minute without getting a headache and Harry had learned that there were rats everywhere in Hogwarts. No rat popped out at him as odd in their Behavior and the sheer number of them had him contemplating hiring a muggle exterminator. His anti dementor lessons continued as well despite their absence. Hermione and Daphne Could now conjure a full shield patronus while Harry had finally conjured a full caporial patronus.

“Expecto patronum!” Harry called after sorting through his memories and settling on Harry's first meeting with Hermione during the summer before his emancipation. She had jumped at his and very nearly cracked his freshly healed ribs with the ferocity of her hug. After the summer he had the sheer relief of having Hermione at his side again was a feeling he still Couldn't quite describe. With the explosion of magic that cake with those magic words came instead of a silver wall. A silver mist came instead and slowly coalesced into a mammal formed into a deer thin And slender ,a doe that looked at Harry and then swiveled, its head to Sirius and Lupin bowing its head at the men as the form melted away. The sight brought the two men to tears as they fell to they're knees. From the mist released from the deer another shape formed. Large and powerful, sleek and strong, agile and graceful, a snow white jaguar roared a silent roar.

Harry was transfixed, he held his hand out as if to touch this king of the jungle, the large cat sniffed his hand yet before they made contact it melted into thin air. And Harry fell to his knees exhausted. Summoning his patronus had cost him more energy than any spell had ever before. At her joy of seeing Harry succeed, Hermione nearly summoned her patronus guardian as well which formed an ethereal vaguely animal-like shape with four strong legs but the rest was still obscured.

That night at dinner, Hadgrid came to see them at the Gryffindor table. “Harry, Hermione, Ron.” He greeted each other with a smile. “I wanted to thank ye Harry for sendin your uncle Ted mine and beakies way he's been a great help. There's going to be a hearin with the committee for the disposal of dangerous magical creatures, this Saturday and I was wondering if Ron and a few others wouldn't consent to coming down and speaking some testimonies on what actually happened in my class tha’ day, some of the dung that Malfoy is saying and the committee folk is saying it's his word over mine so Ted said to get more words, figure that means get you lot to say what really ‘appened.” within five minutes The entirety of the third year gryffindors signed on to be eye, or character witnesses.

Saturday rolled around faster than ever with such an important thing to look forward to. Harry and his Friends sat in the great hall eating breakfast amd waiting for the ministry people to come to the school to start the hearing of Buckbeak the hippogriff. When they arrived Harry was amazed to see not just a member From the department of the regulation and control of magical creatures but the minister himself along with Lucius Malfoy and an Unidentifiable man dressed in a large hooded robe and carrying a grotesque axe, the ministry sanctioned executioner whom Hagrid identified as Alistair Mcnair. They swept through the hall and met with the headmistress and Hagrid at the high table. Next to appear was Harry's uncle Ted and a man and woman who could only be a reporting team from the daily prophet. When he saw his uncle speak to the reporters, Harry approached the conversation they struck up with the ministry team.

“Uncle! It is lovely to see you, who have you brought?”

“Harry!” Ted said dramatically, clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder fondly, a flash of light gave the photographer away. “This is daily prophet “special” reporter Reeta Skeeter and her photographer Clint, I owed her a story and I couldn't think of a better one than the first ever case of a hippogriff being called “unstablely violent”.” The lawyer said with a bright friendly smile. “Reeta I'd like to introduce you officially to my nephew Harry Potter."

As the two shook hands she seemed to be drinking in Harry's appearance “a pleasure lord Potter a true pleasure. Perhaps we could get together for an interview?" She spoke in a high pitched, annoying, reedy voice that immediately grated on Harry's nerves.

“Err yea, maybe in the summer time.” Harry cringed at how awkwardly he spoke, but this small exchange seemed to appease the woman. And she moved on to who Harry thought was her real target. “Minister! You are not at all who I expected to run into here, care to share what the minister of magic is doing at a simple disciplinary hearing for one of our nation's premiere magical beasts.”

“Er, yes, well I was coming up to hogsmeade to get an update on the pettigrew situation and I overheard we needed a witness to the, Er, execution of a rampaging hippogriff. Harry! My boy, so glad to see you, I must apologize for the nasty business with the dementors, but we had to be seen to be doing something.”

“Being seen doing the wrong thing can be just as harmful as doing nothing, minister.” Harry said before bowing and excusing himself from the conversation to continue with his breakfast and to avoid getting into a public argument with the leader of their nation. A few hours later a large crowd was gathered around Hagrid's hut to watch the proceedings. A crowd that Malfoy tried in vain to disperse only to be blocked by the head mistress.

“This is a school mister Malfoy, there are students everywhere and if I understand it many of these students are witnesses to the events that are about to be discussed.”

That trial that followed was so one sided that any other Verdict than innocent would have sparked outrage and even more calls of political corruption. It began with Malfoy bringing in an independent healer who had arrived closer to the start of the hearing, who detailed Draco's injuries and why they “resisted healing”.

After that Ted had the representative for the ministry read the hippogriff Section in “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them”. Focusing on the part that says if you insult them they will attack you and then Ted called Ron and every other eye witness who all detailed Draco insulting said hippogriff that Ron had already proven wasn't a danger by riding it earlier in that same class. When Malfoy tried to say that all the witnesses were griffindors and thus biased against his son, Ted called Tracey as an eyewitness and Daphne as the first Character of the character witnesses. After her, Harry and several others from all the other houses described Draco one by one as a foul mouthed pretentious bully who thought because his family was rich and was friends with high up people in the ministry, that he could do or say anything he wanted and acted as such.

Harry suspected that with nothing he could do for his “donor” Fudge would not even try to argue Malfoy's side. And he didn't. It took a lot longer than necessary In Harry's opinion but by two o'clock Buckbeak was as free as a bird in the wind. Harry stayed back with his friends and Ted to celebrate with Hagrid and “Beaky”. When Hagrid caught Harry checking out the winged creature he was treated to the lesson on hippogriffs that The Care of Magical Creatures class enjoyed all those months ago.

“Beautiful creatures hippogriffs. Smart as a whip too. The first thing you need to know about hippogriffs Harry is that they are proud animals. You can compliment them every way till Sunday but the moment you insult ‘em you'll want to run cause as Malfoy found out, them talons hurt. Go up to im’ an’ bow to ‘im Harry and if he bows back he'll let you touch him.” And Harry did and a few minutes later he was petting the feathered horse-eagle. And a few minutes after that he was riding the creature on the wind where he got a wicked idea. Doing his best to guide and communicate what he wanted the bird horse hybrid swept from the sky and Harry scooped a screeching Hermione up mid dive and deposited her behind him on buckbeaks hindquarters as the bird released a jubilant screech like an eagle.

“Take me back down to the ground this instant Harry James Potter!” Hermione screamed followed by a solid minute of very un Hermione-ish obscenities that would make the Weasley twins blush until, Harry, his voice calm and lilting said while Hermione was crushing her face to Harry's back so hard he could barely breath

“Hermione do you trust me?”

“Of course I do!” came the reassuringly instant though muffled response.

“Then let go of me and look around. I promise I won't let you fall.” and when , after another minute, he felt the pressure release his lungs he heard her release a sharp gasp. Which Harry felt was an appropriate response. For stretched out hundred if not thousands of feet underneath them was the entire expanse of the school grounds and the magical county of Hogsreach itself. The castle with its many towers and turrets stretching to the sky, the village of Hogsmeade and little farther out. The forbidden forest stretched out into the distance and beyond that, the almost unknown plains and wilderness of Hogsreach magical county. Harry knew from reading Hogwarts a history that these lands were once heavily populated with magical communities; the names of those other villages were no longer listed in his copy of hogwarts a history but in the distance he could see the remains of three villages and a handful of smaller castle ruins and towers. Harry knew these lands now all belong to the British magical creatures centaurs, trolls, and of course the goblins. In fact he knew that two of those old human villages had been destroyed in the last goblin uprising in the 1890s.

With the beauty of Hogsreach county stretched out below them it seemed that Hermione had forgotten her fear of heights.
“Oh Harry, this is a beautiful sight. Look! You can see the three old wizarding villages, Upper Flagley, Feldcroft, and Hogsfield.” she pointed to each one respectively. “ We just might be the first humans to see them since the ministry abandoned the area in the 1920s.” Harry shrugged. “Something tells me my father and his mates might have us beat there.”

“True,” She giggled. “They were a bunch of trouble makers.” They sat in silence and soaked in the sights a minute more. With her final request to return to the ground they did. Without her screaming the entire way this time. As Hermione Lupin and Sirius walked back to the school the rest of their group had left long ago for dinner and home in Ted's case. Sirius had just told them a story of pranking Snape to squeak with each step after putting industrial strength grease fighting gel in his hair, thus making him “squeaky clean” when Harry heard it “reducto!” A somewhat distant yell sounded and a red bolt of light hit the ground between all of them, and almost in-between Harry's feet sending everyone flying and injuring them all when Harry was lifted from the ground he felt an extra sharp tug on his right side that sent Him spinning like a top through the air. When he landed he couldn't make out what was happening he was fuzzy and concussed and the only thing he could make out was the sensation of being dragged and then nothing.

Chapter Text

When Harry opened his eyes he saw that he was in the ruins of a house. It was difficult to make out details. For some reason everything looked flat and more blurry than usual when he didn't wear his glasses, the building around him looked like it had a bomb go off inside it decades ago. The roof had collapsed and the wall paper was sun bleached, but it looked maybe as if it had once been yellow with some floral something inscribed every foot or so. The furniture looked charred and rotten but the space also had a strangely lived in feeling to it. Dust had been disturbed if not removed entirely from some surfaces and things had been moved around to facilitate walking. Harry sat on the floor propped up against the corner of a relatively intact wall. and staring at him was a rat. The rat was scrawny and emaciated, its pale grey fur was falling out In patches, and even with whatever was wrong with his eyes Harry could see that the rat was missing a toe.

‘Scabbers, Fuck.’ Harry thought. ‘Well that explains it.’

As his eyes focused on the rat as much as they could in his current state it began to quickly thicken and elongate revealing a man Harry had not seen hide or hair from since Halloween. He was even skinnier now, his beady eyes were yellow and set over bared and rotten teeth. His cheeks sunken further in than his eye sockets. His clothes were mismatched and so filthy they looked charred. His skin was pale and sallow, all together Peter Pettigrew looked like uncle Vernon's worst idea of what a vagrant looked like.

“Hellooo Peter. You're looking quite nice. Dieting for your summer body?”

“Shut up P-P-Potter. You're not a third as funny as your father and he wasn't half funny as he liked to think he was. ” snapped the twitchy animagus. He looked around almost as if he were awed by his surroundings. “Welcome to the site of one of the Potter family's greatest betrayals to wizard kind, and to my family specifically.

This was at some point the village of Feldcroft. The land was once owned by the Potters along with every other village and castle in this county as it once belonged to the Gryffindor family before it was absorbed by the Potters. Your ancestors had the Pettigrew family manage the village. This house at one time was pettigrew hall. We were once respected, had power and had authority and wealth, and we used it to serve your family and protect their lands and how did your father memorialize the dedication of my family? By making me the butt of all his jokes!” And the madman sent a cutting curse at Harry who managed a lopsided dodge and that's when Harry realized.

His leg was gone. His right leg and right arm were gone and had been crudely colderized to stop him bleeding out. Taking a deep breath Harry decided that he'd freak out about that after or if he survived whatever this was.

“SMARA!” Harry yelled mentally or at least he thought he did because Pettigrew chuckled.

“Your snake isn't going to hear you out here, Potter! it's far too far away even for mental contact.”

“What do-you want from me? Harry breathed heavily, fatigue already drawing his mind away from reality.

“I want my master! And the future that was promised to me! Thirteen years I spent as a sodding as rat! Well no more. That old fool Dumbledore said that your scar was the key to my master's survival. I thought maybe your eye, like that Loony girl Last year.” And he held up a vibrant green eyeball with his blood covered hand. Bile rose up in Harry's stomach as the reason for his strange vision was understood. He only had one eye. “But don't worry Harry, we'll keep at it until the dark lord appears.” He said with wide crazy eyes.

“Wait," Harry said, fighting unconsciousness. “W-when I was in Saint mu-mungos they said I had d-dark magic residue in-in my S-scar. My “uncle k-killed m-me my h-heart stopped I bet wh-what ev-ver That mad- ba-stard though was i-in my scar w-was de-destroyed T-hen.

“Oh Harry” the mad man said,leaning down, over Harry and smacking Harry roughly and repeatedly in the face. “You had better be wrong. Because as long as you tie my master to life. You shall remain alive.”

“Why!? Why do this? You were my parents' friend!”

The crazed rat backhanded Harry splitting his lip “I was never your dumbass fathers friend and even if I was I stopped being their friend long ago!

I'm the last pettigrew you know, my mother and father were siblings; to keep the line pure you know, but all it did was make me infertile. So my mother raised me in the old ways and taught me to hate the Potters for ruining our family. Then that damn war happened and everyone started dying and I was terrified so I joined the winning side. Now? Now All that matters is my own survival! And with that wolf and hound out there? on the same side? My master is the only one that can defend me.

When I earned my mark I slaughtered the only girl I had ever loved and her entire muggle loving family down to the last mud blood baby. Marlene McKinnon always looked down her nose at my advances but she was begging on her knees for me after I started in on her baby niece “she's only eight Peter please I beg you!” he said in a squeaky pleading mocking tone. “She noticed me then but it was too late her entire bloodline died that night to fuel the binding of my mark.” a proud and deranged smile spread across his face “and my old friends call me a coward! Oh the deaths they don't even know I'm responsible for!” And he began cackling and each deranged laugh filled Harry with rage, each recollection of this rat's evil deeds filled him with seething hatred, the feeling intensified even more at his last revelation.

“I was so happy, Harry, so happy when that flea bitten mut Sirius Black finally convinced your dumbass father to make me secret keeper, it took months of sowing doubt between those two morons and Remus! When your mudblood whore of a mother made the switch from Sirius to me it was all I could do not to run directly to the darklord. But Dumbledore had spies following all of us back then but it only took me little more than a week to tell the darklord the secret, and then YOU. RUINED. EVERYTHING!” Pettigrew Punctuated the last three words with silent cast bonebreakers, not that Harry felt his bones breaking at the impact of the spells his body had long gone into shock. Harry's eye began to glow with power at the rage filling his mind from hearing a first person account of his parents betrayal. His power continued to grow inside himself, until a sharp spell pierced his last orb and shattered his mind. Harry Screamed, not at the pain, he screamed into the void of his world.

Harry screamed for a long indeterminate time, a time of fear and Blackness, no, not blackness, nothing, a void so great, so potent it swallowed his entire perception of what he once knew as reality. No pain filled his mind. There was nothing but his rage, his hate, his need to kill the welp that would dare injure him so completely. Somewhere in the darkest reaches of his mind a familiar song filled him tinted with notes of anger but still the familiar song calmed his mind enough deep inhale and rational thought filled his mind; he knew of a way to see again but how to do it.
‘what was it that Smara said.’ he questioned his own mind.

“As sharp as our eyes are we do not only see the heat of the world when we track our prey, we serpents hear the air as it swirls around a rabbit, smell the fear of a mole as it digs in flight at our scent, we feel the vibration of the deer as it flees our hunt. And you little one can feel the magic around you. Combining these senses, you can see more completely than any mammal will ever be capable of.” And so Harry went through the exercises his master in the temple of the sun taught him in order to activate the full spectrum of his senses. It was difficult exhaustion and pain making concentration almost impossible but still harry persevered and after a time where Pettigrew continued his insane rambling but soon enough harry went through the reflexes of opening his eyes and he saw, he saw a riot of swirling smells and collapsing sound felt the wind as it circled the fitted house they were in and in front of him Harry saw the weak sniveling cur who took his eyesight and he extended his right arm and squeezed until he felt the man's arms snap, until the man's screams filled the air and gurgled pleading came rolling from the man's mouth.
“ what! What? How where– Harry? Please Harry, please, you don't want to kill me do you? Please! The things he can do, you have no idea! I was scared! I was never brave like Sirius or your father!” At the mention of Harry's father, Harry's magic grip tightened, eliciting a series of snaps and cracks from the man.

“PLEASE! I BEG OF YOU! I didnt mean it, Harry. I didn't mean to do any of it. I was just boasting before. Please, I'm weak, I'm a worm, please, the dark lord made me Harry and he forced me! He would have killed me-”
the wall was blasted suddenly out of the way and in rushed a familiar panicked scent.

Sirius, who obviously had not realized That Pettigrew was at Harry's fastly dwindling mercy, strode up tu peter and stuck his wand in the rat animagus’ face and yelled “THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! PETER! DIED! rather than betray your friends. As we would have died for you.” He finished in a deathly whisper.

After a short struggle to get his hand free from Harry's magical grip peter shouted “Avada kedavra!” when Sirius drew close. A bolt of white heat and black death shot at Harry's godfather, which Sirius quickly and easily sidestepped. That was Peter petigrews last action though as Harry's magical grip crushed the man like a rat in a trap, his broken body squelching to the ground gurgling out his last breath as Harry released the magical grip he held the worm with.

“Harry! Who! What? How!” Sirius yelled in stunned incredulous bewilderment. “Dear me, are you even alive over there?” Sirius asked rushing to his side

“Yes,yes, me, magic and I don't know? Squishing I guess” said Harry looking into the depths of Sirius's eyes with his sightless sockets.

“Oh! Harry! I- are you OKAY?- no, no you're not never mind I'm an idiot of course you're not, look at you.” something seemed to stop Sirius. “C-can you see me, Harry?” Sirius had wrapped Harry in a rough hug and then picked the boy up.

“Somewhat yes, your magic and your heat and the colors of the wind and around you and the sound you make but not you per say. It's hard to explain. Can you take me back Sirius? I'm afraid I can't walk. Or keep this vision up anymore in fact I-I” and Harry passed out. Knowing nothing more than a now familiar humming cadence deep within the confines of his soul.

____________________________________

Harry tried to open his eyes. His world had been a void ever since That rat violated his eyes with his spells but a lifetime's habit was hard to break. It had been a full week now since that night. When he first woke up he railed against the loss of his eyes and forgot he now lacked a leg and arm and fell out of bed when he tried to stand up and pace his room. Then he had been restrained as doctors and healers and teachers scanned, poked, prodded and plied him with so many potions it was making him ill. The only good news was that absolutely nothing was Permanent damage. Pettigrew used no dark curses and so his leg and arm and both eyes will be regrown and probably better than they were originally as they would no longer be hindered by the beatings,broken bones and malnutrition he suffered growing up. But it would take months, Andromeda said September at the earliest with more than a year of training time to catch up his strength in the new arm and leg.

In the days following his kidnapping Harry learned that In regards to killing Pettigrew, that he would see no charges, madame Bones came, and explained personally that he would even be receiving a fifteen thousand galleon bounty for his “capture” of the criminal and an order of merlin third class. He told Andromeda to pick a charity and donate the money. The goblins as well rewarded him for killing a known felon and invader on their lands presenting him a dagger bound to his blood and the title of warrior, an honor in their culture Blüdrük his account manager seemed quite pleased to present the knife to Harry it was apparently just as much honor for him that his client received such high praise.

Many people came to the hospital wing to wish him a quick recovery and to share their pity for his injuries. Most students ignored the room's other occupants. Hermione had been in a magically induced coma while Madame Pomfrey Healed her. Lupin told him that she had a severe concussion and brain swelling but would recover just fine, with her being in the hospital wing it was only natural that Dan and Emma Granger and with his permission of course, aunt Petunia came to dote upon the injured children, aunt Petunia and Emma had identical panic attacks at the sight of Harry’s truncated frame. His aunt spent the first week with him helping him reach things and awkwardly holding him when he sprung from his latest night terror and during the day she ever shared a few stories she remembered his Mum telling her about her own time here when they were children like getting detention for making sirius’ hair,finger, and toenails grow to frightening lengths cuasing him to Fall down the stairs. She had to pickle toads as a punishment..

It took Daphne and Ron a lot of work to help Harry and Hermione keep their grades up. But they worked without much complaint. Ron went strangely silent when several reporters were finally allowed in to interview him about his injuries, or his kidnap and fight with Peter, or the awards he had been given and what charity he was donating the bounty money to.

After a full month in the hospital wing a visit from Snape brought him three truly horrendous potions and the terrible methods in which they were brewed. The eye sight restoration potion and limb regrowth potions both according to Snape required the lost limbs and eyes as an additive in the potions. That Harry had to quite literally slurp down the four thick glutinous potions and their horrible tastes made the after effects so much worse in Harry's opinion. Effects such as unending aches. Pins and needles, and forever itchy eyes that Harry was not allowed to scratch and worst of all the endless amounts of mind exploding pain without adrenaline or anti pain potions To dampen the effects. Hermione had been awake at that point for several weeks but she was still on bed rest while her vertigo went away and he restricted the pain he was showing outwardly if even by a little for her sake, he had to endure the ordeal knowing she was watching and listening to him scream himself hoarse. The entire process of regrowth of his limbs took from March to May, Hermione was released from the hospital wing after two weeks and Harry was thankful for he no longer had to dial back how much he showed his torment.

Free finally to rip his throat apart with the ferocity of his screams.

____________________________________

Harry sat in the stands in between Hernione and Daphne in the announcers box waiting for the last quidditch match of the year to start. He had only just been released from the hospital wing after begging the matron for nearly 3 hours to let him go, after nearly 2 months of being bed ridden he was ready to stretch his new leg which was far stronger than his aunt or madam pomfrey predicted it would be at this point which both women attributed to harrys own massive magical power. The Gryffindor versus Slytherin game was always the game most students looked forward to, and this year was no exception. Genny Weasley, fresh off her defeat of Ravenclaw after tricking the ravenclaw seeker cho chang into flying straight into the stands ending the asian girls game early due to injury. Genny was itching to prove she was just as capable a seeker as Harry was. Harry knew the second year was gnawing at the bit to get ahold of Malfoy but, sadly, the blonde git got himself banned from the game when he was caught giving out badges for the game that called Genny something very unladylike.

Harry enjoyed the game and Daphne, Hermione and Lee Jordan the announcer of the game described the action in the most vivid detail possible. From Gennys very daring loops and dives as she chased the snitch to each and ever heroic block or goal scored. After the game Harry was led down to the pitch where he was handed the quidditch cup second only after Oliver wood was done snogging it.

In his classes he was able to work well enough despite his lack of vision. The only real struggles were geting to and from his classes hogwarts didn't have wheelchairs or escalators for when his new limbs grew tired. And potions class inparticular where he could not brew without his sight but Snape worked around it by Ron who needed the extra instruction or Daphne in the weekend advanced potion courses would follow Harry's brewing Instructions to the letter and Harry would inspect every ingredient Ron prepared to make sure the preparation was correct. All of Ron's protestations of “why would I go through the effort of Cubing Sulphur slugs” or "but it will take too long to skin the shrivel figs when squeezing them works almost as well.” Fell on Deaf ears as well as blind eyes towards his struggle. Ron even faced Detention for intentionally Disregarding Harry's instruction and thus sabotaging another student's work. An offense that normally Leads to total expulsion from Snape's course.

On on of the last days of school the students found out Lupin had suddenly resigned. Harry turned on his heels and went to find his uncle. Which he easily found in his office using his snake sense. The man was pouring over a piece of parchment.

“Harry, Hermione! Welcome, it's always a pleasure” he said without looking up.”

How did-?” Hermione asked but.

“The map, of course.” Lupin interrupted. Taping the parchment. “Sirius recovered It a few days after you were brought back. It's just as easy for him to sneak into goblin territory as it was for Peter.

“You're leaving? We just heard a rumor”

“It's no rumor. I turned in my resignation this morning, my time here was always on borrowed time and I have decided to stop pushing luck's hand. I can give you an explanation if you want. It ties back into my friendship with your father.” At Harry's nod the man continued. Heaving out a long slow sigh. “I hope you don't think too poorly of me when I say this Harry but I, am a werewolf.”
he paused to Gauge Harry's reaction.

“Yea, so? Smara and I figured out that months ago” Hermione nodded, saying she has as well. “By noting your sick days against the lunar calendar.

Harry continued. “You smell like a wolf. It doesn't mean you're bad or evil or anything, it just means you have a - a problem!” This got a resounding laugh from the moon struck man.

“i apologize, you reminded me of james.” He said smiling “ he referred to it as my “Furry little problem "when in public.” many people at school were convinced I had a poorly behaved rabbit.” The man sobered up when the door opened and McGonagall, Sirius and Snape walked in.

“What you must understand, Harry , is that most wizarding society does not share the same egalitarian view as you and Hermione do. They hate and fear my kind and it is a hate and fear I have dealt with all my life. For I was a very small boy when I received the bite. revenge against my father speaking out Against the packs. I grew up thinking I would have no chances to go to school or to have friends. But then Dumbledore became headmaster and he was “quite proud to include the less fortunate in our society.” to attend hogwarts. I was allowed to come to school as long as they took precautions Like.”

“The wolf's bane” said harry “Snape has had me helping him brew it all year.

“No.” Said Snape from the corner of the room “ the wolf's bane is a very recent discovery within the past eight years. His precautions were to leave the grounds the night of the full moon via a secret tunnel whose entrance was underneath and guarded by a rare and valuable tree that you have seen many many times the “ whomping willow" As it's known.

Lupin nodded in thanks at Snape before continuing.“After I came to school I thought for sure people would know, would realize what I was instantly. Instead I was welcomed with open arms and for the first time ever I had three good, no , great friends. It didn't take them long to work out where I disappeared to, or the reason behind it. And soon they became animagi and thus the marauders were born Peter who became a rat turned into wormtail. Sirius was Padfoot who as you know is a great black dog or actually really a grim. And your father became Prongs, a massive pure white stag another magical breed called a lunar reindeer. And in my mind I was the werewolf who led them astray.

It's now time I continue on with my journey of life, I just so happen to know of a rather affluent family who will soon be in need of a steward?” and he pulls out a piece Of parchment “this is Andromeda's resignation and letter of recommendation for me to begin my new duties immediately.” And he handed them to Harry and laughed at the shocked look on Harry's face.

“Well of course you're hired then. Will you remain here and help me around the school for the next few days?”

“I shall do whatever my lord commands, ah sorry I did a bow I forgot you can't see yet, any news when that will come back?”

“Madame Pomfrey says the healing process will be finished by the end of July, so my birthday, hopefully.” There was silence then, Harry suspected Lupin was nodding. “What was in the news this morning? A couple of the older students seemed a bit concerned.”

“Oh yes, that, a rather well known ministry employee was found dead in his home after he failed to show up to work this week. The family's house elf was found liable, investigations showed that both ate the same poisoned food.”

“Can house elves poison their masters?”

“Not normally no, but if they use a poison they don't know is a poison then yes. Most likely Harry, this was an assassination and there's just not enough evidence To pursue that line of investigation. This family in particular were not short on enemies, after all he did head the DMLE for a while. Maybe one of the oldest purebloods with nothing left to lose got tired of allowing a feud to fester. That same paper announced the death of Thaddeus Nott, the grandfather of your classmate and he was an original follower of he-who-must-not-be-named, and the man they found dead signed the death warrant of two of his children during the war.
I wouldn't let this worry you too much Harry, you're becoming more politically aware you're going to notice this kind of stuff more often.”

“Poisoning and assassinations are common huh?” Harry snarked.

“Quite The opposite Actually, what I meant to say is you're starting to notice the news, most kids your age barely know who the minister is.”he smiled Genuinely at the kids before shooing them away so that the group of adults could discuss his departure.

His friends spend the next few days helping Harry train his new limbs. By Guiding him around the castle until he had to restrain and take “ muscle growth potion” which was little more than a non magical protein shake.

The ride home on the train was far quieter than any he had experienced and he didn't need to know why. Using his snake sense he could smell the fear that Harry's presence elicited, and smara confirmed his opinion. The other students were scared of him.

Scared of the killer in their midst.

Chapter Text

Harry sat in unbroken darkness, despite the midday sun bearing down on him. Harry had been in Nice, France for 2 weeks now, not that he had seen or done anything other than sitting on a beach towel Working on his tan and letting Hermione take him on short walks down the beach to work out the muscles in his regrowth leg. The memory of their first walk down the sand still made him go what was most likely a very vivid shade of pink.

____________________________________

Harry sat arms crossed over his chest in obstinate refusal to allow Hermione to walk him around by the hand like a lost puppy.

“Come on harry! You can't just sit on this towel all day. I know that walking isn't the funnest activity but unfortunately we are substantially limited in what we can do together, I asked you to come with me so you wouldn't be brooding in your manor house by prety much yourself, so stop brooding here on the beach.”

“Beaches mean nothing to me Hermione! I've never even seen one, hell I’m on one and I still can't see it.”

“We can go walking in the surf and I can describe everything around you, maybe we can even find a seashell, oh please Harry go walking with me! It's the only thing my parents allow me to do by myself.” Dan Granger harrumphed in the background with a soft smacking sound as Emma playfully shoved her husband.

When Harry heaved a huge sigh and finally agreed, the overly excited book worm that was his best friend ran forward and tackled him in a hug. And that's when he realized they were in France. At the beach, Harry felt soft skin and two slightly harder points poking him in the chest. A laugh and snort from Emma, and a disgruntled grumble and indignant whine from Dan further drove on Harry's new found horrendous embarrassment.

“Err, Hermione are you?-”

“Oh my!” Hermione said, shooting upward off of him “I'm so sorry Harry! I forgot”

“You Forgot you weren't wearing clothes?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Don't be silly Harry.of course I'm wearing clothes. I have a bikini bottom on, this is a topless beach, well for us it is, adults can go full nude if they want. You know it is rather sad I wanted to bring you here since before second Year because I thought it's be funny watching you melt in embarrassment like I did. And now you're here and you can't see anything in order be embarrassed.”

Harry fell back down groaning “I've never been more glad that evil git blinded me.”

“What was that harry?” Dan asked in a threatening voice.

“Nothing, just glad I can't see right now.”

“And why is that Harry? Are you saying I'm not pretty enough to walk around topless? Or am i not shapely enough to look at?”

Dan cut Harry off from replying. “Son I'm going to stop you there, that's a trap question. Just be silent and go on your walk.”

And they did just that walking hand in hand down the beach, each time their bare shoulders brushed together Harry became more flustered, and when he cared to check Hermione's magic radiated happiness so strong it even caused him to smile and sigh in contentment.

____________________________________

After two Weeks of daily visits to the beach the idea of Hermione being topless next to him only somewhat sent him into a tailspin towards becoming a gibbering mess. Dan and Emma returned to Britain and exchanged guardianship to the Tonks family and Sirius, the latter of which had spent most of his time not with Harry incessantly flirting with any female not wearing a wedding ring. Harry and Hermione were currently eating a light lunch in a small beach side cafe, that according to Hermione allowed topless customers in the out door area, that was where the two friends heard a voice calling for Hermione.

‘Ermione! Iz zat you?”

“Fleur? Oh my gods it's so nice to see you” Harry used his snake sense to view two heat signatures bouncing Up and down in an over excited hug. For some reason the heat coming from this Fleur girl was far more intense than Hermione's or any other person's body he had seen thus far.

“Oui, bonjour, enchanté, it iz lövely to see you again, mi cheri.”

“Harry? This is Fluer. I met her here after our first year. I think I wrote about her in a letter. Oooh, how can I even describe her? Fleur is 17 years old?” She paused until the French girl nodded. “Has a thin but very busty frame with silver, platinum hair and red eyes. She's very tan and stands a good six feet tall now. She attends Beauxbatons academy of magic. And she's also a veela, or a-

“Ural Mountain harpy. That explains why she's so hot.” The girl's body heat increased by a noteworthy measure after Harry spoke.

Excusé moi? I am-” but Hermione cut the girl off by pulling Harry's black glasses off calling the Concealment charm around the bandages that were wrapped tightly against his eyes.

“That's not what he meant Fleur, Harry is currently blind, he can't see your physical appearance I'm sure he was referring to your-”

“Body heat” Harry finished “I'm a parcel mouth and can share my snake familiars senses, most people are red hot to this view but you're like a bonfire of heat and white hot light, quite as beautiful as it if terrifying”

“ oh- I see.” She said coming up short of her rant. “I apologize for jumping to conclusions then ‘arry. We veela are often seen as little more than adornments to be seen and used, and thrown away like trash when done with. It aaz made even the most patient of my kind most jaded against even the most benign compliments.”

The two British teens spent the afternoon with the French witch and when they departed for Harry's villa, Fleur let some news on the Ministry's secret event out.

“Eef I do not see you sooner I expect I will see you at ‘ogwarts come ‘alloween.”

“Why's that Fleur?”

“For zee tournament? Ave you not ‘eard?”

“Only about an ambiguous “secret Event” coming later in the year”

Fluer groaned. “L'anglais doit-il être si difficile ? Eet iiz a contest between-”

“Fluer!” Called a woman that appeared suddenly and glew with the same intensity as Fleur.

“Désolé , maman! I must go. You'll learn about it soon enough. It was great seeing you again ‘ermione” and meeting you ‘arry, and the young veela ran off.

Several days later Harry had woken up from another nightmare, they had come nearly nightly after the events in april. Every nightmare was different and yet everyone was the same, centered around the pain and desperation that led Harry into killing a third person in as many years. Deciding against sleep he stood up and used his memory of the small chateau and then the sound of the crashing waves to find his way to the very edge of the beach sitting down where the dying waves crashed gently against him. he sat there for an intermediate amount of time listening to the surf and sand and feeling the magic around him; eventually two people came and joined him both masculine and both radiating a deep sombor energy. One was tinged with ego and energy and care and worry. The other bore the unmistakable fire of authority, care, love, loyalty, and the unmistakable bite of long held loneliness. It was the first form of sparkling cerulean Fire that sat itself next to Harry on the sand.

“Hello, Sirius, Remus.” Harry spoke in an even and deceptively peaceful tone, and could feel the magician's attention focus on him when he addressed his godfather.

“Hello Harry, what are you doing up this late? Remus saw you walk down here, and he was worried; you know how much of a mother hen he can be.”

Harry sat and thought he was tempted to tell the man something appeasing in order to be left alone. He had to consciously remind himself that there were adults now that cared about him, so he took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. “ I was thinking and dreaming about Pettigrew.”

“Oh”

“Yea.”

“I think about him often as well, when I was in Azkaban it was often about revenge, now though? Now I just wonder where it all went so wrong. Why is our old friend troubling your sleep Harry?”

“I killed him” and Harry interrupted Sirius from speaking. “I know I'm not in trouble and that it was justified. I'm not sorry I did , I don't regret it either, if given the chance I'd probably do it again for worse reasons, he deserved it, but Pettigrew is the third human life I've taken in as many years but he is also the first one I actually fully intended to kill and was in control of actually doing it. I'm thirteen I shouldn't be capable of just killing like that. It should bother me.” He ducked his head down. If he had eyes he would be staring at the water soaked sand in-between his legs. “But it doesn't. And it feels wrong that I don't care that I killed him.”

“Harry” the voice of Remus Lupin called from beside him as the man sat down. “I can end this debate for you right now, you don't feel guilty because you know you're not, you are basing your thoughts on muggle psychology. But you are not a muggle, our magic guides and protects us from such mundane antithetics. He was a threat, he is no longer your consciousness is tormenting you becuase you were raised muggle. It might seem harsh when you hear it but magicaly raised aurors dont have the same issues as muggle soldiers or police they speak of taking dont suspects in a very clinical tone becuase to them it is. becuase our brains know not to fight our nature. Its something you’ll grow into, or not in which case i dont suggest becoming law enforcement.”

“That makes sense, I guess.” They sat in silence for a minute listening to the crashing ocean waves before he spoke again “Pettigrew told me what happened, why everyone thought you betrayed us.”

“Woul- would you like to hear my side of it? To hear what I should have explained all those months ago?” Asked Sirius in a solemn voice.

“ I would.”

Sirius sat still for a minute, Harry thought he might be watching the waves while he gathered his thoughts but with only his magic sense he couldn't really tell. “It was late in the war, the Order of the Phoenix, the only group that was fighting to oppose Voldemort that was outside of ministry control, Dumbledore led and founded it actually, before, well, before whatever happened to make him go round the twist, anyway. The order was on the Backfoot we had suffered so many losses very quickly it was the death of the bones that clued us in on the fact that we had a traitor in our midst. Dumbledore received a bit of intel from a spy that Voldemort had started to target the Potters specifically, though no one ever knew why..

Dumbledore called me and Peter to your parents house in Godric's Hollow and explained that he was going to put them under a Fidelius charm.”

“What's a Fidelius charm?” Harry asked.

Lupin interrupted the exchange. “ The Fidelius 78charm is an immensely complex spell designed to hide a secret inside a single living soul, using it would allow a person to hide in plain sight and no one would ever find them even if they had their nose pressed against their sitting room window.”

“Oooh right! Blackstone uses that! I didnt know it's name. But wait. I'm the secret keeper of the manor. Why wasn't mum or dad?”

“Because” answered Lupin when Sirius drew a blank. “That's not how the spell used to work. Khe keeper could not reside within the secret or it would break, in response to your family's betrayal a group of some fifty odd arithmancers and magical theorists gathered together and reworked the spell to allow the keeper to reside Within the secret. It was only completed about ooooh 4 years ago I think sometime shortly before your first year at least and I believe you had the mansion re-warded When you took control?”

“Some of the outer wards yea, I hired the goblins to do it.” said Harry cuasing both men to nod or atlest Harry thought that's what they did, it was hard to tell sometimes.

Sirius spoke back up then and continued his tale “Well, anyway Dumbledore cast the Fidelius and he and James and Lilly all wanted me to be the keeper. But I didn't. Peter had been whispering doubts into my ear for months, doubts about my loyalty and their loyalty, Remuses loyalty. I worked for weeks to convince them to use Peter. I thought it was the perfect Plan everyone would assume it was me and I helped along that line of thinking with some well placed boasts in a few pubs. The ultimate prank, you see. If I got caught, by the time they figured out I wasn't the keeper, Peter would have fled the country or made it to Dumbledore at least. And then-” Sirius's face darkened. His voice dripped with venom and melancholy. “The night of Halloween, I made arrangements to visit Peter to see if he was still safe, but he wasn't there, of course I thought they got to him but something didn't feel right, there was no sign of a struggle or a fight, I knew at once what he must have done, what I'd done. When I got to your parents house. I tried to take you from there but Hagrid arrived at some point and stopped me saying he had orders from Dumbledore, and, well, I trusted Dumbledore so I left, I went rat hunting and when I caught up to him, well, you've heard how that ended.”

Sirius and Remus were both silent for a long time. They all were the hollow remnants of Lilly Potters last moments seemed to echoe in the intervening silence.

“I failed you Harry, because I didn't want to be secret keeper, because I didn't take you from Hagrid, because I went after the rat, because I went after him alone, I failed you Harry for so many small things I failed you so completely, I'm surprised my godfather bond didn't kill me, somedays I wish it had, at least then your mother will have killed my soul in the afterlife and I wouldn't have to deal with all the guilt. If you ever wonder why you were raised the way you were, you need look no further than this old dog, and I swear I shall work everyday for the rest of my life to atone for that failure Harry.”

I don't blame you at all for any of what happened to me Sirius. You were trying your best to help-wait, where were you in all this Remus?”

“I was in Europe. Dumbledore had my spying on the werewolf packs making sure a whole pack didn't defect to Voldemort's camp and reporting back when they did. I'll tell you more when you're a bit older, war stories aren't for children and despite your own war stories Harry, you are still a child.”

“Hmpf” said Harry before laughing “That's fair I guess.” After that the Adults stood up and guided Harry back to the chateau and then to bed where he went back to sleep no longer bothered with the phantom of Peter Pettigrew at least for The night.

____________________________________

The two teens returned to Blackstone manor The next monday a week before Harry’s birthday. Hermione returned to her own home which left Harry alone with only Lupin, Smara and occasionally Sirius for company. Harry had a fantastic birthday, nothing not even one hundred dementors could damage his good mood, because the first thing he did when he woke up was go to saint Mungos and for the first time since April he opened his eyes and saw the world through them as he was meant to, his vision was clear and bright and vibrant no more would he ever need glasses.

Later that day when the guests were arriving for his birthday party Hermione marveled at how green his eyes were staring into them for several long moments before she spoke.

“You know if it's even possible Harry I think your eyes might be an even more intense green than before” Hermione said with a very un-Hermione-ish giggle.

“Daaaamn.” Daphne said in a very drawn out and very unlady Like manner when she saw his eyes which earned her a slap on the back of the head by her mother, not that it had any effect. “Harry, I think we're going to have to check your food for love potions this year. It's already difficult enough keeping the other girls in school in line with those emeralds shining at everyone. But this!”

“Hello to you as well Daphne,” he said deciding to ignore the colorful commentary on his eyes. “what have you been doing while we were away?”

“Ohhhhh, nothing much, cheering on Dudley at his boxing tournament. I cant say I much care for the other students at his school, they thought my style of clothes to be very “antiquated” and were quite rude about comparing me to some french queen called marry”

“ its Marie actually I think, but, I hadn't realized you were close enough to Dudley for him to invite you to do anything like that, also, yea? I told you no-mages don't dress like that, dresses and corsets are very very…old fashioned, like, last century old fashioned.”

“Oh, well, excuse me for thinking a girl showing her fanny as being improperly dressed for the public, like that half dressed harlot Melody Borgin, trying to hang on Dudleys arm after he won the tournament, but-” and she took a deep breath to calm down. “Yes we are, we have exchanged many letters since Christmas, and he invited me to come and cheer him on, it was quite fun, really, despite the lack of magic and rude adolescents.”

As the party wore on in Charlus Potter's lounge Harry spoke to many people from McGonagall who brought along the booklist for Hermione, Ron, Daphne and Harry along with her own notated copy of “Animagi the howls and whys” she gave him a very serious look when she handed it over before walking away, to Amilia and Susan Bones who were invited by Andromeda and gifted him a set of wizarding law books. After his birthday Harry was anxiously awaiting the Quidditch World cup.

Pouring over the parchment ticket he received with his firebolt he saw that he would be attending the match in the minister's box and could bring one guest. Harry didn't know who to invite, his immediate instinct was to invite Hermione, but she didn't like Quidditch. The Weasleys wrangled cheap seats and Ron had already turned him down saying being with his family was more important. Daphne was the same as Hermione. In the end He decided to ask Dudley so Harry set out to find his cousin.

It took 15 minutes but Harry finally located Dudley in the library with an ancient mechanical calculator with Neville Longbottom of all people. Who upon seeing Harry murdered something to Dudley and left of A door that led to a path to Harry's fields.

After Harry watched his classmate flee from the sight of him he heeved a sigh and went on with the reason for his visit. “Hey Dudley,what's all this?”

“It's uhhh, reme-dial math assignments, that damn word always gives me trouble. Smeltings don't usually give reme-dial work but they took pity on me on account of dad, who got arrested by the way, he'll be in for 5 years. Assault on an officer.”

“ Oh? Well I have something that might cheer you up.”

“ that news -did- cheer me upn but What's that, then?”

“I happen to have tickets to the magical event of the year, the Quidditch world cup.”

“Qui-ditch, what is Qui-ditch?” Dudley asked with a very confused face.

“It's a sport, wizards sport? Played on broomsticks, it's the most exciting sport in the world but the best way I can describe it is that it's like football in the none magical world, everyone follows quidditch, and I have tickets to the world championship match it's in England this year for the first time in like 3 centuries.”

“Why not invite one of your wizard friends then?”

“Well, none of my wizard friends really like Quidditch except for Ron and he's got tickets already. So what do you say?”

“Well, I can't say I have anything else to do when is it?”

“Next week.”

“Sure I'll go, now come help me, algebra is hard enough, why they're putting “imaginary numbers” in it now is putting my head round the twist.” Dudley said, pulling out a chair next to him. Harry spent a stressful afternoon figuring out what exactly an imaginary number is and how it correlates to any form of maths he was familiar with.

In the end they asked Hermione to floo over and explain it.

____________________________________

Several days later saw Harry and Sirius sitting in a conference room in Gringotts after receiving an urgent summons from their account managers. He was waiting for nearly thirty minutes before blüdrük stormed in with another well dressed goblin and three armed guards surrounding one last goblin carrying a heavy looking black stone cube which was sat down on the table a good distance from Harry. Even from a distance Harry could feel a certain wrongness with it, like it shouldn't exist.

“Lord Potter , lord Black thank you for coming in so promptly you will be compensated for the delay we had a certain issue come about with the containment. Lord Black I am Blüdrük the Potter account manager, Lord Potter this Is Irnbraker he manages the accounts of the Black family.

We called you in here Lord Black because the cursed item threshold resides in this sarcophagus was found in a vault of a nearly extinct line that you hold primacy over, truth be told if you were your father, you would not have even been notified we would have seized your entire account for the transgression in that box but you have much higher standing with the bank so we will give you one and only, one, chance to explain.” Blüdrük said his usual calm tone had given way to seething rage.

“I'll try to explain the best I can. Can I get the name of this primacy account?” Asked Sirius, seriously.

Irnbraker narrowed his flaming yellow eyes at sirius. “Lestrange.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Indeed.” the Goblins choruses. “Their vault has already been reacquired by the bank in recompense for the slight on our property and against magic itself.

“ I understand and I shall not contest the acquisition. What is the item in question? I don't have the ability to sense magic like Harry here can but even to me this thing feels wrong.” Asked the animagus.

“At one time this was the cup of the witch and founder of Hogwarts Helga Hufflepuff, now it is a defiled Wretch that will face the cursed flame as soon as we are done here.”

“I'll be honest with you, the Lastranges are Not in good standing with the Black family. If they held an item of such depravity if I'm correct in thinking it is What it is?”

“We shall not voice what it is called in this or any language. It is a violation of nature.” Replied Blüdrük.

Sirius nodded gloomily “may I raise my wand? I'll need it for what I'm about to do.”

“You may, wizard.”

Taking a deep breath Harry's godfather took out his wand slowly and began in a serious Tone “I Sirius Black Lord of the house call my right of primacy over the lesser house of Lestrange, in response to their gross violation of magic I cast them out of my house, hall, and hearth. I ask that magic judge them and if found guilty of this sin againdt magic to strip their own magic from them In recompense.” Sirius slashed his wand down and a cracking sound rent the air.

“managers, you may do what you wish with the item and the accounts of Lestrange and I offer a 500,000 galleon tribute in recompense for my house's even tertiary involvement in that festering black item you hold.”

“The bank appreciates your cooperation and shall only take 100,000 galleons in return in favor of it.” Sirius accepted this with a bow.

“Lord potter we called you here because this is the third item of such evil we have encountered but this is the first one we believe might hold a portion of the consciousness that made it. If you might do us a favor and speak the snake's tongue to it so that we might confirm a suspicion.” Irnbraker said, opening up the thick stone chest.

“I-okay, errr ‘do you hear the true language evil cup.” A tantalizing icy whisper filled Harry's ears

‘Drink from me, drink and you shall have all your paths revealed, rival speaker,’ the voice of tom riddle wrang forth, Harry instantly recognized it

“oh yea. Definitely parcel I know that voice too that's Tom Riddle. Another memory? But how”

the lid was slammed shut “Don't worry about the how's or why's Lord Potter, you don't have anything to worry about just yet we shall continue to do our investigations thank you both.” Blüdrük yelled out a quick line in his language and the guards carried away the box. “Is there anything either of you need while we're here?”

“You said you found Others? Where?” asked Sirius. The two goblins looked at each other and Blüdrük shrugged. “One was found by you lord Potter in your second year at school, the diary which you destroyed with your family blade. The other one was found by our curse breakers while working to clear the school of dark magic. As I understand it, it was in a room used by the house elves as mass storage, another priceless artifact of both our races, the lost diadem of Ravenclaw as you would know it.”

“How the blazes did that dark codger find it!” Bellowed Sirius much to the apparent amusement of the goblins.

“ Of that, we have absolutely no idea.” Said Irnbraker as both goblins turned and walked out muttering to one another.

____________________________________

Three days before the world cup officially started Harry asked Remus to drive Dudley and him to the usually deserted Moore that the ministry reserved as camping space For the one hundred thousand wizards who would be in attendance for the match.

When they exited the limo after the long and winding, dusty, dirt road that they had take to reach the campsight they were greeted by a horde of eclecticly dressed people. The three of Harrys party were all in comfortable cargo shorts and tee-shirt as the ministry instructions he had received said to dress “incognito” as muggles. But everywhere Harry looked he saw people in clothes that had no buisness going together from one woman who looked like she was attending a renaissance fair. To an older man whose Bright red hair no longer sat ontop his head but instead stretched straight out past his shoulders who was wearing a bright orange knit wool poncho a black and pink kilt and four inch platform boots.

“I thought that paper said dress like-like-”

“Normal people?” Said Harry arching an eyebrow cuasing Dudley to sag in equal measures of relief that Harry didn't seem angry at him, and self Deprecation.

“Sorry it's hard switching it around after so long.”

“We understand Dudley” smiled Remus. “And to answer your question most wizards don't have The slightest clue about non-magical fashion.” Harry was nodding and smiling trying to contain his laughter after he saw a very busty witch wearing apbishops hat and a micro bikini top that was several sizes to small overtop a flowing ballroom gown.

“ Take Daphne for example. She still had it in ger head that no-mags were still dressed like Victorian times. Of course I don't think she would wear anything different even if she knew better. I knew it would be bad but I didn't think it would be this terrible.” Said Harry laughing at more and more ridiculous outfits. They saw the camp office and approached the old man who judging By his clothes was the only real non magical for miles. It was Remus who approached.

“Good day sir! My name is Remus I believe we are under a pre-booking by the name of Potter.”

“ Good day.” the Man said gruffly. “My names mister Dunbar I'm the camp manager. Potter you say?” He scanned a long list. “ Ahh, yes there we are, he's under the special guest tag. You'll be in the big pavilion near to that massive building your lot put up. about a mile or so up the path to the right there.” the Man said pointing.

“You know?” Asked harry astounded.

“Oh aye, yes my little girl turned out to be one of you lot, my little fairy, Fae Dunbar. Can't say I understand much of what she talks about nowadays but she seems happy at that school of hers.”

“Oh! I know her! She's in my house, Gryffindor! Same year too! Is she here?”

“Ooooh, yes! she's somewhere around here met up with some girl named Lavender, supposed to be her dorm mate.”

“Oh awesome I'll keep an eye out, does my camping spot cost anything?”

“No, the company that sponsored the pavilion paid for it.” Harry and company then wished the man farewell and continued on through the ever increasing mass of domestic and foreign wizards.

As the group walked through the gated entrance of the open field outside of the woods that surrounded the campsite Dudley and Harry got their first taste of a truly magical celebration. There were games and food stands scattered around the paths. Attractions like fortune telling, face painting, and stands from famous stores from all over the world peddling their wares. Harry was immediately attracted to a store selling American wizard fashion which was much more modern than anything sold in England, an odd mix between colonial military and early 1900's suits.

“Errr, Remus? Why were we told to dress incognito when there's so much blatant magic going on. They have a race course for pete's sake!” Harry asked incredulous, pointed into the sky

“The rules of the ministry often defy logic. I'd hazard a guess though that it is in case someone ventures beyond the anti muggle wards and is seen? I believe strange people in the middle Of the woods dressed in cloaks are calm for alarm in muggle society?” This caused Dudley to nod vigorously.

“We still tell ghost stories of cloaked men sacrificing virgins in the woods.” Said Dudley in a slightly awed voice as his eyes followed the progress of a wizard as he dashed through floating hoops on a broom stick a few hundred feet above them. “He's really good!”

Harry stepped up and watched the man Harry's new eyes easily making out the glinting “firebolt” inlaid in gold on the handle. “No he's not.” Harry said with a discerning look his Head cooked to the side. “ He's taking his corners too wide and too slow. His banks are halted and his dives are very hesitant. In order to be a great flyer you need to trust the broom you're on. I've always said they can sense fear. I'll show you what I can do later after we find this pavilion we're looking for. “ Thirty minutes later they found and entered the large garishly colored bright red and fluorescent orange pavilion and Dudleys jaw dropped. For how unnaturally large the outside was. The inside was even larger, still the main atrium easily matched the grand scale of the ministry building with dozens of branching hallways and at least seven floors leading to Merlin only knew where. In the center of the floor was a wide round kiosk with twenty welcome witches stationed to help the constant horde of visitors and workers, when they spotted an open spot and approached the woman working at the desk spoke with a very friendly and very practiced line.

“Welcome To the firebolt pavilion we are happy to assist you in any way we can. Are ypu a guest, business associate, or do you need outside assistance?” She spoke quickly and brightly with an accent Harry couldn't place.

“This is Harry Potter. I believe he was given a room here in the pavilion by a Mr Herbert firebrand.” Said Remus.

Hey eyes flicked from Remus to Harry then to the area above his eyes, then to his eyes. The woman spoke in a halting, mesmerized voice as she stared into his green orbs with an awestruck expression. “A-a-a g-guest then, welcome. I hope you enjoy our accommodations.” She quickly pried her gaze away from the depths of Harry's soul and scanned a list and finally said “ahh, there we go, west quadrant G7, Follow the paper airplane. “She tapped a piece of paper that folded itself into a plane and flew off at a steady pace which they quickly followed. What they found at the end of the plane's flight was not one room but a set of rooms in a grande suite with in-room jacuzzi and several small bottles that Remus quickly gathered and hid muttering something about fools and children.

After a few minutes exploring their amenities and Lupin explaining How magical windows functioned a rushed series of knocks hit their door. When Remus answered it and announcing it as “lord potters room.” Amd exchanging a few words with the man that knocked his steward let the guest inside and in strode two of the most garishly dressed Individuals Harry had yet seen. Both in quidditch robes. One in alternating black and yellow. A portly man who stretched the robes he must have fit in perfectly when he was younger. The other man was wearing bright orange and red with equally bright red hair unlike The man next to him. This man was tight, toned and trim. His yellow eyes shone from across the room as they set on Harry.

“Hellooo there!” Called the man in yellow immediately cutting Remus off from his introductions and earning a scowl from Harry. “My name is Ludo Bagman. I'm the head of the Ministry's magical games and sports department. But you probably know me more from my quidditch days playing with the Wimbourne Wasps! And this is Herbert Firebrand, inventor of the firebolt and founder of firebrand brooms. I was with him when he was told that your rooms had-” Ludo had been struck silent with a quick jab from the man named Herbert.

“Easy there Ludo? calm down man, no reason to frighten the poor boy away with your enthusiasm.” He said before turning to Harry and smiling offering his hand, which Harry shook. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you mister Potter, I've been wanting to ask your opinion on the broom it sent you and talk shop ever since I mailed it! But that will have to wait for later.

I'm afraid I must ask a small favor. I was in a meeting with some heads of state when my assistant told me you had arrived and several of them seemed very excited to meet you, especially the new minister for Bulgaria, practically Insisted we ask you to join the meeting. So what do you say? Up for a bit of smarming up to high society?”

“Not particularly,” Harry said shortly, causing the man's charming smile to drop. “But if that's all you ask in thanks for these wonderful rooms and seats in the stadium I could hardly turn you down. Though I'm not exactly dressed or prepared for meeting heads off state though?

“Ooooh it's no matter at all, most of them are dressed in casual clothes as well. The German minister is In a purple suede lounge coat. Quite the odd man.”

“Would my cousin be allowed? He doesn't have magic.” Both wizards turned their attention to Dudley as if they just noticed him.

“Err, sorry boy-o, Some of the more traditionalist people might not take kindly to a non magical person- not that I would mind if he came i am a half blood you know but, the others, well.” henspoke haltingly and awkwardly in response to Harry's question

“It's alright Harry! Remus here can show me those magical fair games. Might be able to win da- i mean, mum something.”

“If you're sure, Dud, I'll see you later then.” and Harry followed the two strange wizards.

Chapter Text

When the doors opened for Harry at the command of Herman Firebrand he saw several dozen people in clothes ranging from the most stylish suit to a guy wearing a fishing hat and waders both styled after the American flag. There were a few groups of six to eight people with a few others who seemed to enjoy more solitary company. When they guided him into the room he was quickly brought to a small table for five individuals with Harry only recognizing minister Fudge among them, who, upon seeing Harry's approach stood to make introductions smiling genially but Harry did notice that the smile seemed forced and didn't reach his eyes. He was still angry. ‘Good.’ Harry thought.

“Harry my boy! How are you? A pleasure as always.” Fudge said though pretty much everyone could tell or knew that the man was lying due to the recent coverage of Harry's lawsuit against him.

“Yes minister, it's always good to see you enjoying performing the duties of office. I apologize to everyone. I'm not able to greet the rest of you by name. I don't follow the world news section in the profit too closely.” He had turned his attention away from Fudge and to the other occupants of the table, a rather rotund, squat, boxy man with a pencil mustache and a brown suit. A thin woman wearing a turquoise sun dress. The next man could only be the new minister of Germany that he was told of earlier for the man was infact wearing a royal purple lounge coat that went surprisingly well with his blonde hair, Harry was rather mystified by the man's eyes, one of which was a purple just as vivid as his coat while the next was a blue lighter than the sky. The next man, younger than the others but not by much, was wearing gray business robes that wouldn't look out of place at the Ministry with a hat that wouldn't look out of place in the Wizengamot. Fudge cleared his throat to speak.

“Harry, these are the representatives for a few foreign nations. The man in the brown suit is monsieur Jacque Delacour, he's the French equivalent of my under secretary, as I understand it the French Minister has contracted dragon pox. The woman is the chancellor for magical Bulgaria, Aleksandra Albenal. The man in the purple is the new minister for Germany Otto Bauer. And the last man there is a member of the department of international magical cooperation wetherby trudall. Normally Barty handles events like this, but well. He will be greatly missed.”

Harry greeted Monsieur Delacour but stopped short. “Err you wouldn't happen to be related to a Fleur would you?”

“Oui, she is my eldest daughter, how is it you know her?” He looked perplexed.

“My friend Hernione and your daughter are friends. We met while on vacation only a few days ago.” At this the man smiled brightly.

“Ahh, my flower has told me much of this Hermione, apparently they have exchanged mailing addresses and have been corresponding as fast as the owl post allows.
Of course your reputation and story precede you lord Potter it is an honor to meet you.” The two shake hands allowing Harry to exchange greetings with the others at the table. They all seemed very friendly and interested in Harry's healing process asking many questions after he had to sit down, his leg, still weak and sore from extended use needed a rest.

“May Iask what a collection of representatives is gathering around a rather secluded table, I know that our four countries house the four largest schools of magic in europe, you couldn't be discussing educational standards could you? because I have ideas.”

This made the German minister smile and laugh. “Such a bright boy! Very close Lord Potter.” the man spoke with deep baritone.

“We-” Fudge begun but puased. “Harry, I can trust you to keep a secret, yes?” With Harry's nod Fudge continued. “ We are now in the final negotiations in preparation for the tri-wizard tournament happening at Hogwarts this year. It's been in negotiations and preparations for five years now, one of the last things Albus set in motion before whatever happened to drive him mad.”

Harry looked between the gathered adults all of them seemed to be waiting for his reaction and becoming increasingly disappointed When there wasn't one forthcoming. “Err I'm sorry I'm but I'm rather behind pn my wizarding history, what is the “tri-wizard tournament.”

the voice of minister Bauer spoke out in answer. “It's a tournament hosted between the three largest European magical schools. Those of course being Hogwarts in england, Beauxbatons from France, and Durmstrang, the history of the tournament goes back centuries; it was discontinued several hundred years ago after a number of unfortunate accidents left too many dead in the tournament's wake. My Colleagues here and my predecessor have been working hard to make the tournament safe and entertaining for those watching and to ensure there is at least no permanent damage to those who enter the tournament.” Minister Bauer spoke in a clear authoritative tone with only a slight accent.

“Well that sounds like a good watch!” Harry said clapping his hands quickly becoming genuinely excited. There were more than a few students at Hogwarts Harry was sure would do amazingly well in whatever challenges the tournament threw at them. Where is Durmstrang? You didn't say.”

“Yes, it is very exciting, only available for those who are legal adults of course, less mature students would surely perish with such danger, even with the safety precautions.” He fell silent as he seemed to contemplate Harry for a moment. “You might think of joining Lord Potter.

Harry looked at the man incredulously “me, what? Why?!”

“You are one of the most well known lords in this country, famous, rich, and if I do say so quite powerfully magical without scanning you I would wager your magical power is normally in the upper 1500s and most likely growing rapidly. But you are still living off past glories. That will only get you so far, Lord Potter. Your people and even some day the people of the world might demand you step up and defend them or to lead them to- I digress. My point being that competing in the tournament will be a good start in proving to the world that you are not just “the-boy-who-lived”. Feel free to stand on the sidelines Lord Potter, you are young there might come other opportunities. But this one has the world's eyes. A prize all tri-wizard champions receive, Is glory and notoriety.

And to answer your previous question, Durmstrang does not reside in a single country, nor in any country really but the “key to the castle” if you will; transfers between most of the old USSR and a few other countries like Bulgaria and most recently Germany it is under my countries teams negotiating we have filed the contract and next year begins bulgaria 10 year tenure of hosting the key.

Oh, and Fudge there had it wrong, my title is chancellor, Chancellor Bauer.” The man stood suddenly and walked to the bar for a drink.

Harry passed around the room for the next hour and had shallow conversations with the many world leaders and government workers while turning over chancellor Bauer's words in his head. They were attractive; he did want to make a name for himself outside of his original fame. To be more than lord potter and especially the boy who lived. If he was going to be famous he wanted it to be for his own achievements, not his bloodline, or the circumstances of his own survival as a baby. An hour and a half after his arrival he left, sparing a sharp and determined nod at chancellor Bauer.

____________________________________

Harry banked left, rose a sharp ascent through the air before cutting down hard and boosting through the seventh loop in this twenty ring circuit. The firebolt he rode cut through the air like a knife through water. On the ground a multitude of people pointed at him and cheered him on and a few dozen flashes, as various cameras took snapshots of him as he easily blew through the course records of the “Firebrand company sponsored Firebolt race.” a rather ingenious Marketing stunt by mister Firebrand, Harry thought, where for a few sickles anyone could race on a real firebolt. As he bolted through the twentieth ring the course overseer shouted out “fifty-eight seconds a new record beating the old fastest time of one minute six seconds set by young Mister Malfoy earlier today! Come round, does anyone have what it takes to beat the boy-who-lived?” Harry, smirking, skidded down on a fast landing right in front of Dudley and Lupin.

“You're right Harry, you are way better than whoever that bloke was earlier.” his cousin commented.

“Ehh, with a broom like the Firebolt all you have to do is trust it to do what you want.” Replied Harry. Just then a newly familiar voice rang out.

“Ahoy there!” Called Ludo Bagman. “My word Harry watching you on a broom is quite astounding, especially considering your age! Ide hate to play against you if you go pro. Keep that up and you'll have every scout in the country after you in no time.”

“Thanks!” Said Harry Brightly. “I haven't really thought about what I want to do as a job after Hogwarts.”

“Well there's nothing wrong with playing quidditch; best years of my life, of course I don't have it so bad at the Ministry either.” Said the older man. “I was a beater if you didn't know, won the league three times in a row and played for the national team for a number of years as well.”

“Wow! Really! No, I didn't know that. I was raised muggle and I haven't had a lot of time to read into anything other than my studies.” The two said their goodbyes and Harry and Dudley began to walk off before being stopped again this time by a young man he didn't know after he called out “loord Potter.”. He was wearing black and maroon compression shirts and pants with muggle gym shorts over the tight pants. His thick eye brows met in a scowl. “Vou fly very vell.”

“Errr. Thank you?” Harry said uncertainty.

“Iit iis honest compliimeent, very rare to see one so voung so comfortable in air. I vill be at Hogvarts Thiis yeer, perhaps ve can fly togethor. I am seeker as well.

“flying is what im best at, atleast in my opinion, but that sounds great mister-?”

“Vou caan just call me Victor.” the young man look at harry in confusion with before bowing slightly and waddling off on rather extraordinarily bowed legs.

After this strange meeting it took Harry and Dudley almost 2 hours in-between looking at the wares for sale and playing the wizarding games to track down the Weasleys, who were at a far off campsite and had already been camping out for a week. When he approached The tent he was Happy to see missus Weasley taking charge and cooking expertly over a large bed a coals wizards and witches where waiting at a large group of tables seeing Bill, Ron, and the twins running around delivering food to various tables he approached Charlie and Percy who were at the front of a large line writing into books, as Harry approached he heard Percy repeat what he wrote down.

“That will be three roast chicken dinners, grilled Veggies and two pounds of mashed potatoes for table seven?” He waited for the wizard he was talking to, to nod in agreement. “Alright, that will be three galleons.” The man wandered off after handing over the money. “Ahh Harry! I wandered when ide see you! Been having fun?” Percy said brightly.

“Yea its been pretty fun, what is all This?” Asked Harry.

“Well” the older boy who could only be Charlie, Ron's brother who lived in Romania studying dragons cut-in. “We've been here over a week and mum is with us and she insisted on doing all the cooking and she's cooking over that fire for us all and everyone around us sees and-” said Charlie getting cut off by Percy.

“And most wizards don't know how to cook without magic or camp style like mum does. So a few people asked her to make their families dinner for a bit of money and it's just kind of snow balled mum and genny haven't stopped cooking for four days aside to sleep at night it's been amazing a few of the vendors came round to complain but after we paid the fee to cook for the public then couldn't really complain.”

“That's amazing making plenty of money then?” asked Harry.

“I think we've already matched dads entire yearly salary. Some prince from the Middle East came and paid a few thousand galleons for her to cook a private banquet last night.” Said Charlie laughing after writing in another order.

Harry and Dudley sat and watched the chaos talking to Ron and the other Weasleys whenever they had a moment he learned that Percy having got his top grade NEWTs was welcomed into the ministry but due to restructuring inside the office that he was meant to go he was assigned to work under his father in a temporary setting until something more to his talents opened up. By twilight and after eating missus Weasley's wonderful food themselves they went back to the room; waiting for them was Ludo Bagman and the man from the office of international magical cooperation.

“Ahoy there.” Bagman said quickly. “Sorry for the intrusion, Lord Potter but we were asked for your presence again for another more fancy elbow rubbing in the morning. It's a traditional part of the cup to host a charity breakfast and with you being head of one of the most powerful families in our nation it would be rude not to Include you.”

“Yes,” said the man stiffly. “ We will be having a charity breakfast auction, selling some of the most prominent art in the ministries collection.

“The ministry collects art?” Asked Harry.

“Yes. We do, whenever a family is officially listed as extinct or they owe too much in taxes or, well a number of scenarios, the ministry collects all un-bequested properties and money. It's one of the ways outside of taxes and fines the ministry gets revenue and due to the last war. Well, the ministry warehouse wasn't meant to hold that many things.” He finished awkwardly looking sad at the memory of when Voldemort was last powerful.

Harry nodded acknowledging the man's disquiet. “I understand, thank you. Yes I'll gladly attend.”

“Tappy!” Harry called as he entered his rooms and a second later Harry's female elf popped into the room causing Dudley to flinch in reflex.

“Good day mas- Lord Potter, sir, how's can Tappy assist you this evening.” The elf bowed deeply at Harry.

“Err yes, Tappy could you please bring me and Remus some formal robes? We have a charity breakfast in the morning. And tell Dobby to pop over so he can attend to us while we're here and deliver whatever I buy in the morning back to the manor. Is there anything going on at home?”

“Only you'se miss Granger visiting to read in the library, I believe something has happened she visits during the day and weeps mightily, I'ze asked Miss Granger if she would like me to fetch you but she has told me no each time.” The elf looked sad during this report.

“Is she there now?”

“No sir, she returns home around 4 o'clock each day after the doctor Grangers shifts” Harry looked concerned.

“Toppy, can people come along with elf apparition?” The elf happily Nods.

“Can you please go and bring Hermione here tell her she can pop right back if she doesn't want to be here… or can't.” And the elf bowed and popped away.

It was a short wait. Five minutes and Dobby was there with the clothes and Hermione was standing there in her pajamas and dressing gown. Her hair was still damp from a shower but her eyes still bore the tell tale puffiness of recently shed tears, Her posture was stiff and shaky and Harry could tell in a hundred little ways that something was deeply troubling his best friend.

“Hermion- oof” Harry got out before she colliding with him with the force of a frieght Train, wrapping her arms around him and burying Her head in his chest were she commenced to bawling uncontrollably for a long period of time where all Harry could do was hold her back just as tightly. After a long time she stopped crying and Harry felt it okay to finally broach her troubles.

“Hermione, what's wrong, what's happened.”

“Ooohh, Harry, you remember my gran?”

Of course Harry remembered hermiones grandmother, she spoke quite highly of the woman fairly often and was ment to have dinner with her while on vacation with the grangers but she had been ill. “Of course my memory may not be as good as yours Hermione but its not that bad.” This small joke got a luagh out of Hermione it seemed she desperately needed.

“A few days a-ago, she- there was a horrible car accident, and. It didn't happen immediately but I- I i didn't get to say goodye and I was going to tell you after the match so I didn't ruin your time being worried for me.”

“Hermione” Harry whined. And gripped her shoulders. “Of course I'm going to worry about you. You're my best friend. I am so sorry for you loss, is there anything I can do? I heard your parents are still working?”

“Yes they are only until the clear this weeks appointments they canceled next week and we will be going back the Nice and arrange her services.”

“That I will obviously be attending.”

She opened her mouth to argue but shut it and nodded quickly whispering a quick and tearful “thank you.” Hugging him again.

“Not to sound insensitive but maybe I can take your mind off of things for a bit?”

“Wh-what did you have in mind?” She said pensively.

“In the morning apparently I'm going to some charity auction-breakfast thing, and in light of your sorrows maybe you'd like to come? leaders and political people from all over the world will be there, just think of all the interesting things you can learn.”

Hermione looked most morose as she stared at the floor in thought and Harry thought she'd turn him down until she looked up at him and smirked. “Mister Potter? You know just how to tempt me, yes I'll go with you, I'm sure my mother will insist I go as well. It's a great way to get my mind off of things.” And then she sprung up with sudden vigor. “Oh, but what will I wear I don't have any dress robes or make up or shoes and if I'm going on your arm then we'll need to color coord-” Just then a matching set of emerald green and silver dress robes on two mannequins appeared in the very latest of male and female summer fashion.

“Please Don't discount my house elves Abilities, Tappy loves you and I’de hate for her to get sour about your lack of faith in her abilities.” He looked away from Hermione and towards the well dressed mannequins. “Which includes tailoring apparently.” Finishing with a bemused shrug.

“I would never dream of underestimating Tappy. I just would never assume she would have things ready for me. For you? yes of course, me? no. I am not her “master” nor member of her family.”

“Of course your family, Hermione. Your my best friend. Now you should head back for the night, Dobby will come and pop you over in the morning. We don't have enough beds.” This earned him. Water smile before Hedmione was popped away for bed.

____________________________________

The muffled shouting stopped as the two well dressed teens opened the door to the event.

“It will work I tell you! If the North Koreans can break away from the ICW then so can Germany! We are our own people, we are a strong nation and the muggle side is in the perfect condition to learn of us and close its borders to the outside world!” Yelled Chancellor Bauer.

“You will expose us you mad man you can't tale over an entire country.” Said a wizard that Harry didn't know.

“I was elected! Chancellor of magical Germany. I have not hidden my ambitions from my people, you, nor anyone! It is the will of my people that we attempt this and we shall whether we have your support or not the German muggle president is on board he wants to bring back the glory of Bismarck's German empire. The leaders of Ukraine Belarus and the USSR all are on my side. We-” the man cut himself off at the sight of Harry and Hermione.

“Lord Potter, a fine morning to you I apologize for you walking into such a heated discussion so early in the morning.” Chancellor Bauer said cooly.

“You are going to attempt to unify with your nonmagical population?” Askd hermione hesitantly.

“Yes, it am. miss-?”

“Hermione sir, Hermione Granger.

“Well, miss Granger it is my opinion that for to long have we wasted away in the shadows of the world. It is unhealthy for us, but especially for the magical creatures to be so restricted. We are already suffering genetically in our animals, dragons especially are suffering inbreeding.”

“I- I had never thought of that.”

“Of course you haven't! You're what fourteen? I dont expect any teen to understand the subtleties of the prison we've locked ourselves in.” The people around him are looking awkward and no longer engaging in his arguments with children present and he heaved a long sigh and walked off shaking his head and muttering. Both kids watched as the man left before approaching the group he had vacated and hermione was quickly introduced around the table that included minister Fudge several foreign wizards and a good collection of rich British citizens including Lucius Malfoy and his wife who both refused to acknowledge Hermione's presence, the Greengrass parents who greeted Harry and Hermione happily, and a new face Madame Zabini who greeted them both neutrally uncaring of their presence.

A short while later after a quick display of all the items up for bid and Harry giving Hermione as much buying power as she wanted saw Hermione, lady Greengrass and Narcissa Malfoy in a three way bidding war for a ninth century painting depicting Ragnar Lothbrok sacking Paris a painting so old it was not enchanted to be alive, which Hermione won. A statue of Venus, and the thing that lady Malfoy seemed to want most, the knife mark Antony used to kill Caesar, Narcissa won the bidding but only after Hermione and lady Greengrass jacked the price up more than triple the original bid which Hermione seemed inordinately proud of.

After the event came a formal luncheon where the participants of the auction could interact. Harry and Hermione found themselves being chauffeured around by Fudge. Where Hermione engaged many people in conversations talking about obscure wizarding events, laws, or rulings in their home country Harry could barely keep up with, it made him realize he still had much to learn. An hour later saw them back to Harrys room after wishing the people they had become more friendly with farewell.

“So how did it go, you two?” Asked Remus.

“Great! Got to snub the Malfoys on a couple items and we got to learn a couple things as well.” Said Hermione.

“Oh? Like what?” the older man asked with a lupin grin. “And did you see sirius?”

“No, he was probably up far to late for that. Anyway it sounds like the Germans might be trying to pull out of the ICW, their leader chancellor Bauer was there and he was arguing about it with a few others said something about wanting to reclaim the glory of the old empire or some such. Said he wants to copy the north Koreans. Only bigger”

Lupin looked down deep in thought as he sipped his coffee. “That makes sense the sentiment of German superiority didn't totally die in 1945, still does this Bauer seem dangerous?”

“Not really? but you never can tell can you, but what did he mean by copying the north koreans isnt that country an autocratic dictatorship?” Hermione said with a deep look of confusion. While Harry just shrugged in response.

“Hmm well that's the face their leader puts on to keep foreign people out and to a point they are, but magic is deeply integrated into their culture, history, and most essentially, their religion, after suffering under the statute of secrecy for five hundred years a rise in traditionalism came after the power struggle in their region following world war two they succeeded from the International Confederation of Wizards and chose to totally close their borders to keep the ICW from interfering in their government. It has cuased alot of debate and uproar since. The ICW has a debate every now and then about continuing it's invasion from the fifties and forcing the country to restructure.”

“Is the ICW likely to do that?” Hermione asked, leading Remus to shrug in response.

Harry was utterly lost, global politics was definitely something he'de have to look into more “maybe later in life.” Harry told himself, feeling guilty about his ignorance. Looking over at his cousin Harry saw Dudley had a glazed over look not unlike the look Ron got when doing his divination homework.

Harry then took Hermione across all the shops and games smiling at her delight as she shopped around the various vendors and magical games even buying her a small handmade beaded bag made by a native american artist it had brilliant turquoise, beads and bright white sea shells and was in the design of a traditional navajo mosaic that had apparently been magically expanded and had a built in access charm that would zip the item you were looking for straight to your hand, and it will place a protective charm on each item to protect them from damage while in the pile in the bag.

“So Harry, have you heard anymore about that secret event we've heard whispers of?” Hermione asked as the two wandered around.

“Oh! Yea!, but the organizers asked me to keep it a secret so you can't go and talk about it with anyone.” Hermione nodded excitedly.

“Well that secret event is called the “triwizard tournament.” It's an ancient tournament according to the guy that told me held between the three biggest European magical schools. It's supposed to be really dangerous and only the best student of each school gets to do it. Though Bauer didn't explain how they decided that.”

“ that sounds amzing! Is it open to anyone?” Asked Hermione speculatively.

“Dunno? Maybe? Bauer said legal adults though so it's probably 17 and over?”

“Will you sign up? If it's “legal” adults then it'd be open to you.” Hermione asked this question in a tone that Harry couldn't place like she was testing him.

“I thought about it? But I don't know how likely is a 14 year old scrawny toothpick of a wizard to be picked over someone like… say Cedric Digory?”

“Hmmm, any normal fourteen old id agree with you. But you've been through and done things that most grown wizards couldn't lay claim to. But i really don't think you should Harry i just don't think you'll have learned enough to safely compete.”

Harry shrugged noncommittedly “maybe, still, I might do it. I want to make a name for myself and this would be a great start to that.”

Hermione frowned but didn't say anything as they continued to enjoy the rest of the day greeting friends and strangers who came up to talk to either or both of them. Spending a few hours with Ron and Tracy Davis when they ran into each other. When asked Ron said that Tracy had “borrowed” him in order to win a giant plush doll of a “violently purple Nundu” because winning it herself would have been lame according to the soon to be fourth year slytherin. And as the sun set Harry was rewarded with a large Hermione hug and “thank you Harry for distracting me and cheering me up. This has been better than a day in your library, have fun tomorrow." And Tappy popped her away with her beaded bag and her own plush toy that Harry had won her a nine tailed fox.

“You two are so sweet it's actually disgusting” remarked Dudley with a dead pan stare.

“It runs in the family I'm afraid, his father and mother were the same way, so were his grandparents.” Remus said with a grin full of nostalgia and mischief.

“It's not like that, Hermione is my best friend. I just wanted to-”

“Make her smile? Quite a dutiful boyfriend, you are Harry. In my experience your bestfriend makes you go grey in the hair not red in the face.” Remus smiled indulgently which ruined Harry's argument by making the boy laugh.

“Oh! which reminds me! Speaking of best friends, I found Sirius, it turns out he was securing permits and enacting demolition on his family home.” Remus pulled a daily profit.

“Britain's blackest Bachelore burns down brownstone - incurs fine

Early this morning the improper use of magic office was forced to pay a visit to a muggle area as famed playboy Lord Sirius Black decided to use fiendfyre (an extremely dangerous and volatile spell that has been designated a dark curse by the ludicrous patents office) to burn down his family home. Lord Black had this to say.

“Yes, well I got the permits to demolish and bought the entire brown stone complex with very, very generous offers to the current non-magical tenants, but I took two steps in there got attacked by an insane house elf tripped into the largest nest of doxies I've ever seen and then ripped open some curtains only to see the most horrificly life like portrait I've ever seen whose subject was my mother screeching at me. The hag put a permanent sticking charm on the canvas and tacked it to the main support beam of the house.

That alone would have made me torch the place.

I am of course willing to pay any fine; it will cost less than hiring the professional decontaminators I would need, not to mention the therapy.”

If our readers were wandering it was reported that Lord Black was able to control the Fiendfyre until it consumed the entire building and put itself out, quite the feat for a man who is not two years out of a twelve year stay in Azkaban.”

Harry finished reading and looked up to remus with wide eyes. “He used a dark curse to burn his own house down on a whim?”

“Mhmm” Remus said nodding “Sirius is finally healing from Azkaban. I am honestly surprised he hadn't done that sooner. He hated that house and every memory it held. Now! As your steward I must tell you that you and your guest are expected in the morning for the opening ceremony. You have been listed as a guest of honor so you need to get to bed immediately.”

With that, Harry just laughed and shook his head and walked away. “You know, if I had known all the strings these tickets came attached to, I probably wouldn't have accepted them.” He waved his hand over his shoulder as he opened the door to his room and shut it, wondering idly what Hermione was doing.

Chapter Text

Harry leaned against a wall, his surroundings unfamiliar.

Where was he?

How did he get here?

Everything was fuzzy he couldn't make out the detail on anything around him except to his right on the floor a pale unclothed body with deep bloody carving of a hauntingly familiar ritual circle marring the other wise flawless skin. a cascade of tightly curled brown hair obscured the person's face but he didn't need to see the person's face to know.

“Hermione?” The unmoving corpse did not respond.

“Hermione!”

“Hermione, please!” he yelled so loud he should have torn his throat.

“Herm-”

“Shut up Potter, your wailing isn't doing anyone any good! Relashio” said a hauntingly familiar voice as Tom riddle strode from the shadows, sending a cutting jinx at Harry's wand arm that he had instinctively raised in defence which fell twitching to the floor.

“Yea brat do shut up your interrupting my lords rebirthing party your mudblood friend so selflessly set uo for us for wanderful it was watching her carve the circle into her own flesh reducto!” Said worn tail as he sent his curse towards harrys leg wich expoded into chunks of bone and meat and blood.

“Thank you for your assistance potter I rise again and no with out you in the way I am unstoppable avada ke-”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Harry yelled as he leapt out of bed, his wand zipped from his night stand to his hand and his body and hair cracked with panicked energy. Looking around and taking deep fortifying gulps of air as Lupin burst into his room wand raised as well scanning the empty room before approaching Harry who had fallen to his knees and dropped his wand panting and was staring at his hand flexing his fingers back and forth.

Harry answered “numb” in a dead sounding voice in response to Lupins raised eyebrow.

“Are you alright, Harry?” The older man asked cautiously.

“Yea.” The young lord said breathlessly “Dobby.” He called quietly and the elf popped in at once waiting quietly. “Could you do me a favor and go check on Hermione? Don't wake her up or anything just make sure she's alright. OK?”

“Yes sir, Lord Harry potter, sir.” The elf said as equally quiet before popping away.

“Why are you worried about Hermione, Harry?”

Scratching the back of his head the young man scuffed the ground. “No reason, just, just a nightmare.

“Can you go back to sleep?”

“Yea just as soon as my hand stops tingling.”

“Ok then, well, I guess I'll get back to bed, I hope you have better dreams Harry.” Lupin left the room and Harry turned his attention out of the large window in his room overlooking the rainbow colored magical fires that dotted the campsite still absently flexing his fingers.

____________________________________

Harry and Dudley stood in line waiting to hand over their tickets and to be directed to their seats.

“I still can't believe you get to sit in the top box for free Harry I mean, how lucky could you get?” Said Ron half joking.

Harry however, not being in the joking mood and simply said “Well they're not free are they? Sirius paid for them and I have to put up with a whole bunch of people showing me off like I'm a show horse, I personally find it revolting.” Just then a bright voice called out Mister Weasley's name catching their attention.

“Arthur Weasley? Ahh There you are ten levels up the middle junction. And lord Potter? Ehhh top box up those stairs there and as high as you can go!”
The woman said, pointing to a secluded golden staircase with security wizards around the entrance checking people over with his wand and a skinny golden bendy antenna of some kind.

Waving goodbye to the Weasleys Harry and Dudley switched lines and a few short minutes later began the climb.

Despite just how steep the stairs were or how high they had climbed Harry thought that they were up a lot higher than they should be. Minutes later in which Dudley seemed he was going to die the boy whined.

“Harry how are you climbing these stairs so easily this is torture!”

“Hogwarts has a lot of stairs, and my dormitory is on the seventh floor. I can do this all day because I do, do this all day.” Harry smiled at his cousin, not even winded. “Although I'm sure Remus will tell you that the more powerful magic a person is, the more hardy they are. For instance they said my legs would take a year to return to full strength, but, it's only been three months and, well yea my leg is a bit sore and shaking a bit but I can handle this no problem.”

“You magic folk have it good.” Dudley said, sounding slightly jealous.

“The non-magical community can do and has done things that wizards can't even begin to guess at how to do with magic. To the point they think we're lying when we say that they happen. Like the moon landing or what computers are capable of.”

“Really your lot don't have anything like space flight?”

“Nope, my broom is the best broom in the world and it barely goes as fast as a decent sports car, maybe 180 kilometers per hour.”

“Harry you realize you sound insane right? Most cars can't go that fast.” Said Dudley, side eyeing Harry as they walked.

“Err, well, yea I guess so” Harry laughed awkwardly.

A few short minutes later they entered the top box. It was beautiful. The view of the pitch was extraordinary, they were situated in the exact middle of the stadium high above the field itself they would have a good view of the action no matter what. The box itself was filled with approximately 50 chairs. There were not many people up here yet though Bagman was there and he bustled up to them as soon as he saw them.

“Hello boys, good day for it eh?”

“Yea; looks like perfect conditions, you all must be pleased. Would you mind showing us our seats, Mister Bagman.” Asked Harry looking into the sky.

“Right-o! This way lads.” He said, guiding them as he continued to speak to them. “Yes, we’re quite pleased. Sun shining, not a cloud in the sky and hardly a hiccup in the arrangements.” He explained while they walked. As they passed by chairs Harry saw that each seat held a pair of golden binoculars.

Harry interrupted the older man as he was telling them about the anti muggle charms in the arena and asked. “Errr, Mister Bagman, what are these gold binoculars?”

“Eh? Oh! Those, well, those are “omnioculars”, come compliments of the top box ticket package but they're being sold for 10 galleons. Brand new invention came out a few months ago you can stop the action, zoom in, replay, slow down time and if you need it they will flash up a play by play of the action even have what i'm told are called “subtitles” by the muggles you'll be able to read my commentary in real time.” Bagman beamed excited at the new way to enjoy quidditch.

“W-will it work with m-me?” Dudley nervously said, eyes going in every direction.

“Ehh?”Bagman asked confused before his eyes went wide and he did a startled little jump. “ Oh blimey, I forgot; sorry lad. Yes it should work fine, they have independent enchantments. They don't need a witch or wizard to power them.” Harry and Dudley sat down and immediately started twiddling with the omnioculars. Staring into the crowd in opposite directions.

“Look over here Harry, eight levels down to the right. I think that's your friend Weasley and his family.”

“Yea; you're right, that is him.”

“Oooh and I can make him eat his own booger again, and again!” Dudley guffawed and Harry snickered. The two sat there scanning the crowd for nearly an hour making jokes at others expense and beinging the cousins Harry had always wanted growing up.

They remained in their seats untill more people entered the box and some came to introduce themselves or speak to him from a Mister Borgin who owns a very famous antique shop in a place called nocturne ally and was VERY interested in appraising the contents of Blackstone.

He was politely declined.

Florean Fortescue, who owns the amazing ice cream shop in diagon alley.

And eventually Fudge came around with the Bulgarian minististress, Chancellor Bauer and a few others.

“Lord Potter!” Fudge said with forced enthusiasm while also ignoring Dudley “Enjoying the box seats?”

“Yes, minister, Mister Firebrand was very generous. Might I introduce my cousin, Dudley.” Harry said, shaking hands. They all greeted Dudley amicably and the Bulgarian minister even spent a few minutes talking about a few movies that , while out of date in the UK had only recently been translated and played in Bulgaria.

After that Harry and Dudley continued to peer around the stadium watching people, vendors and a giant chalkboard which switched between different advertisements in semi regular intervals. That board was flashing an ad which said “remember the Alamo! Boutique?, all the latest colonial fashions. Mix modern and antique fashions. San Antonio Texas.” However the board scrubbed itself clean as Bagman stood at the edge of the box, put his wand to his throat and whispered "sonorous."

“Ladies, and gentlemen, I would like to welcome you to the 422 final of the Quidditch World cup!” Bagman announced to a riot of applause and cheers. “We have quite the match for you today. Both teams have some of the best players recognized in the world today! Fresh from under the iron curtain I present to you the Bulgarian national team Dimitrov, Ivanova, Zograf, Levski, Vulchanov, Volkov and the seekers widely recognized as “ the best seeker in the league” Victor Krum!” Each player flew out when their name was called, waving to the crowd and when the whole team was in formation they flew a few laps around the stadium. “ Now put your hands together and welcome; all the way from Ireland!” The crowd interrupted Bagman from laughing at the terrible joke. “The international Irish quidditch team. Connolly, Ryan, Troy, Lynch. Everyone give extra loud cheer for Mullet, Moran, Quigley, Who are considered one of the best chaser teams in modern times. The Irish followed suit with the Bulgarians doing a lap around the stadium when they were all out in formation. Together the two teams descended to the ground at the center of the stadium where a man with a ridiculous mustache was waiting for them holding a golden chest that seemed to bounce in his grip.

“Errr, Harry? Why is that best bouncing?” Said Dudley from beside him.

“Bludgers.” Came Harry's simple reply. “They can't be turned off, as long as they're enchantments are powered they'll try to get at any person they sense.”

“That's wicked scary.”

“Yea, it's not fun to be chased or hit by them, I’ve broken a few bones over the years.” Harry shuttered at the memory of the pain rubbing his arm.

Down on the field the referee had been introduced as Hassan Mostafa. The chair wizard for the international confederation of quidditch and Bagman was introducing the Bulgarian national team mascots.

They were Women, but not like any woman Harry had ever seen, they're skin was tanned, their eyes red and their platinum hair glowed moon bright waving on a non existent breeze. They had almost cartoonishly proportioned curves. These women were more beautiful and more terrible than any he had ever laid eyes on.

They began to sing and dance and for an instant Harry's whole world fell away from him in beautiful swirling motes that swam before his eyes, and all that mattered was showing these women what he could do he had to impress them somehow ‘but how?’ Harry's feverish mind thought.

Everything came back with a sharp shock that raced up his arm from the potter family ring.

“Veela!” Shouted Harry as he leapt forward to pull Dudley off the several hundred foot high railing he was currently standing on prepared to jump. All around him women were restraining most of the men. Chancellor Bauer and a man Harry thought was French seemed unaffected, almost bored.

“Oh damn” Harry said patting his pockets looking for the silencing ward stones ted had given while still struggling to restrain Dudley. Giving up he grabbed the boy by the face and turned the dazed teen to look into Harry's eyes. They were dull and empty like his cousin was sleepwalking Harry cast a silencing charms so strong it muted the entire box. Men and a few women almost immediately fell to their knees. Harry dropped the spell when the outside stadium seemed to go back to normal and the veela stopped dancing.

“By Merlin's black beard! Did they find the most powerful collection of veela and hire them?” Complained Fudge loudly.

“And here are the Irish national team mascots!” a glittering green arrow sailed from over the top box so to the crowd it must have seemed like Bagman threw it out into open space when he threw his arms wide in presentation. Harry, through his omnioculars, saw that gold coins were raining down on the crowd; some people, Ron included, started fist fights over the looted treasure hoard. Beside him Dudley picked up a coin that was thrown early and his face was awestruck.

“Calm down Dud. It's a dud, that's leprechaun gold, disappears after a few hours.” Harry said, waving his hand in a shooing motion. “although it has some fun properties.”

Aww that's the coolest yet most disappointing thing I've seen in a while, what can it do?” Dudley said in a morose voice before brightening up again.

“Well if you try to multiply it, it does this, duplio!” As Harry finished siting the coin on the edge of the box he hit the coin with a duplication charm that Hermione taught him so they could more easily share notes. The coin split; not into two pieces like it was meant to, but into around fifty coins that slid over the side of the box eliciting shrieks of surprise and annoyance from the people in the crowd below them.

“Cool!” Dudley said in between laughs.

The crowd went silent, attracting both boys' attention just as the chest was kicked open and the balls and players flew into the sky. From the outset of Krum intercepting the Irish chaser teams from grabbing the quaffle first it was clear that this was Quidditch as Harry had never seen it. Bagman had barely time to get the name of the person holding the quaffle before it was passed to another player with such speed and accuracy that Dudley was complaining of getting motion sick trying to track the ball's motion. The game was a hard fought battle that lasted nearly fifteen hours of charges, counter charges, blocked and scored goals that saw the Irish team slowly build an unbeatable lead the game only finished after Krum tricked the Irish seeker into diving straight into the ground and racing off to the other end of the stadium and securing the snitch and the Irish victory.

Lynch was notably absent from the Irish victory party Harry and Dudley attended afterward.

It was late at night when Remus shook Harry awake suddenly.

“Harry! Get up there's something going on we need to leave; now!” An explosion rocked the pavilion sending a shudder through the magical expanded space. And Lupin silently summoned Harry's broom with a flick of his wand. “Go! Now! Fly away, take Dudley, it's too dangerous for you to leave on foot and whoever is attacking was smart enough to change the wards to disallow all forms of apparition, even elves are blocked.

Harry, taking the broom and realizing that this was not a time to be argumentative, sat on his broom and pulled Dudley to sit behind him.

“Harry, if you use the “point me” spell and fly northwest you should arrive at the manor in about three hours.” Harry nodded and was about to shoot off into the sky when a thought came into his head and brought him up short.

“Errr, Lupin? What is the “point me” spell?” Harry asked, shargrined, the older man growled in response.

“It's a compass spell that directs you northward, just hold your wand flat in your hand and say “point me” and it will spin true to north. Now, go!”

And Harry went with Dudley behind him. His broom wasn't as fast as it usually was but it was still travelling faster than most brooms. From his vantage he could see a largish group of black robed people, some were battling early responders but most were sending exploding spells and gouts of fire into the tents and crowds. Harry, feeling safe at the distance, started a circuit to survey the area and saw even smaller skirmishes breaking out among the city of tents scattered at various distances from the main body of rioters. Harry was sure he even saw the flash of fire red hair on three men facing a slender man in black robes while another smaller figure ran, her red locks fans behind he at the speed of her flight when she was grabbed by another group of people in black hooded robes harry thoughtlessly spun around and flew into action he began diving pulling out his wand and firing off a chain of banishing expulsion and explosive spells Lupin had been teaching him during his recovery. The spells impacted just as Harry pulled out of the dive and he could see that while effective they didn't have the needed strength for their true effects to occur, still it allowed the Weasleys for it was Genny Wealsey he had rescued, to catch up with the youngest member of their family.

What happened after that, Harry had no clue as he was far away from the encounter by then and he heard a cry of “depulso!” and his broom spun wildly in the air before flinging off Harry and his cousin who landed in a tangled tumbling mess saved from greater injury by Harry casting a cushioning charm mid arm that Oliver Woods insisted they master just in case. Still they weren't in good shape and Harry heard slow melodic footsteps coming closer.

“Now zat vas not nice little lord” the man spoke with a thick accent Harry couldn't quite place. “You interrupt our sport and think to fly away like some hero. But superman does not look good if he has mud on his back let me clean that off!” And with a flick of his wand Dudley was flung feet away to smack into a tree several loud snaps sounded off on impact and Harry knew that his cousin had had several of his bones broken and the lack of response meant that Dudley was at the very least knocked out. He then sent a wicked purple bolt of light at Harry that harry barely managed to block and deflect with i
His wand. Once, twice, three times the man sent the same spell at Harry walking closer to the young lord all the while. Three times however harry blocked the incoming missiles with the tip of his wand and as the man pulled back his hand to cast the spell yet again Harry threw a “deprimo!” At the man the spell was ment to dig holes in the ground but when used against a person all it does is shatter what ever bone it hits. The man being otherwise engaged casting and at the distance he was at he didnt have time to dodge the man's wand arm and wrist shattered dropping his wand and clutching his now useless arm harry stood up quickly and shouted “PetrificusTotalus!” And petrified the man who's arms and legs snapped together and an “incarceration charm that send barbed wire snaking around the petrified man.

Harry looked around for danger and then ran over to Dudley cursing repeatedly sliding to him and checking his pulse once he confirmed his cousin's heart was beating he cast an enervate and Dudley woke up and tried to sit up only to be prevented from doing so by harry. “Don't move! I think you broke something when that nut job chucked you away from me.” Harry said gesturing to the trussed up man. Harry once again looking around and checking on his opponents bonds he cast red sparks into the air three times. It didnt take long for someone to turn up.

Mister Weasley along with his two eldest sons and a small gaggle of random ministry employees ran up wands drawn. “Harry? What's wrong I, dear me!” He said before noticing the man harry had chained up and running over to him. “Bode? Is this”

“Yes….. Arthur… yes….. Vladimir Dolohov, father to the death eat antonin dolohov. How did he even get into the country?!” Bode spoke in a fast yet mournful voice.

“Obviously he's taken up his son's standard.” Mister Weasley harrumphed before asking “Are you alright Harry?”

“Yes, but could you check on my cousin? I think he might have some broken bones from that nut job flinging him into a tree.” One of the wizards scanned the teen.

The wizard was bent over Dudley and cast a number of spells over Harry's cousin. “A few broken bones and bruises” but nothing life threatening I cast some spells that should put him right in a few days. Unfortunately, skelegrow doesn't work on muggles but the healing process will still be much faster than normal with the regular application of spells.”

Just then Lupin ran out of the woods cuasing the ministry workers to turn their wands on him. And one yelled “back away werewolf!” Which caused Harries steward and erstwhile uncle to stumble to a stop and raise his hands but otherwise ignore the ministry workers.

“Harry are you OK? I told you to fly away.” The grey haired man asked, continuing to ignore the wands pointed at him.

“I did! I sent some spells down to help Genny Weasley get away from a pack of nutters that was after her but I did so while flying away and then that guy shot me out of the sky.” Loupin looked at the trussed up man before nodding and puting his wand away amd addressing the mi istry officials. “I apologize for my coming at you with a wand, it has never made public knowledge, but I am steward of the potter family was was merely checking on my young lord.”

“St-steward?” Asked a round faced man “but werewolves can't hold!”

“Positions of high authority within the government or buisness. Not a house or family. I checked all the legalities before accepting the Position mister Diggory.”

“Diggory? Like Cedric diggory?” Asked Harry curiously.

“Yes, this is Amos Diggory, father of your schoolmate and senior member inside the department for the regulation and control of magical creatures where I must register and answer invasive questions about my doings every 6 months. He however works in creature welfare and not the werewolf registration committee.” Lupin answered flatly and Harry scowled at the man in response.

“Well that's something, I've met Cedric a time or two he's a good student.”

“I'm sure he'd be honored to-” just then a loud explosion and distant screams of terror cut off the older man.

“Harry, run for the woods, get out of camp as soon as possible, they're targeting flyers now!” As if to emphasize Lupin's point a pink bolt of light struck someone flying on a broom and the rider fell however many feet in the air to the ground below. “Go now! I'll help here!”

“But-”

“Don't worry about your cousin, Harry,” said Arthur Weasley. “He's in no shape to move. I'll take him to the triage tent we've set up on the opposite end of the camp.”

Harry took one look at Dudley who looked back at him Weasley. And nodded before jerking his chin to tell harry to run, and so he did. As harry ran across the camp it was clear that while there had been a huge group of people cuasing trouble it had devolved into dozens of smaller skirmishes scattered in a wide area, tents were being blasted apart hither and thither the wooden frames lay smoldering in the dirt and although harry forced himself not to notice a pale body sometimes lay on the ground wether these people were alive or dead he couldn't stop to find out.

As he passed by a large fight Harry noticed that there were no British aurors; instead the black robed attackers were battling wizards in black and Grey military style fatigues and combat boots. “Why aren't the port keys working!” Came a panicked but recognizable dull drawl. ‘Krabbe, senior, maybe Harry sent a strong blasting hex in the middle of the group behind the shield they had erected between them and the odd soldiers. The shield shattered and the red light of stunners filled the air behind him as he continued through the camp.

When he reached the woods, running became much more difficult. More people took aim at him and he had to duck and dodge bolts of light and branches as well as jump over tree roots. Until after a minute of just running something caught his foot and sent him sprawling he landed with a roll and lit his wand pointing it at what tripped him.

It was ron, resting against a tree and covered in blood.

“Ron! Are you okay? Is that your blood, are you hurt?”

“No, I'm fine.” Ron said with a thin shake in his voice. “It's not mine, one of those nutters was going after a woman and I managed to get up close to him and kick him and he let the woman go. But turns out she was a veela, and she transformed into this bird thing and, well, those beaks are sharp mates, it was like a pair of tin snips. And I was a bit close and-” Ron's eyes were hollow for a second before he shook his head. “What's going on out there?”

“Dunno? There's fighting all over not many aurors, some strange foreign wizards but I think they're mopping them up now.”

“What are they playing at doing something like this infront of the whole ministry?”

“Maybe they're drunk? a lot of Voldemort's old supporters didn't go to Azkaban, right?” Harry said moving to sit next to Ron they both watched as the flashes of spells slowly died down to nothing over the course of the next hour suddenly two men wearing flowing purple robes with silver masks appeared before them with a loud crack.

In a thick German accent one of the men said. “Ahh there you are, we scanned you two from the wood line but it's hard to judge distance in the dark, come back to camp the fighting is done it is safe. We shall guide you.”

“Errrr I don't want to be rude, but, until we see someone we know? We're not going anywhere, I've been attacked far too often tonight. I do not trust strangers.” and Harry raises his wand to point at the men.

Both men laugh jovially. “A wise young man then.” The man wordlessly sent red sparks into the air and a few seconds later Emilia Bones was there.

“Mister Potter! We are becoming far more acquainted. Still at least you're not in trouble when we meet, well any trouble you cause at any rate, so I'll take my blessings, she said this before turning her attention to the man. “What seems to be the issue? Can't handle one teen?”

“No ma'am mister, Potter? You say? Would not come with us, as he does not trust strangers in the current climate.”

“Smart boy, Harry, these two are part of chancellor Bauer's personal guard, the newly rechristened knights of Walpurgis.”

“Walpurgis? Isn't that Grindelwald's army?” Asked harry.

“They were the paramilitary arm of his organization yes, but no more, they have been working very hard ever since Bauer took over leadership to rebrand themselves.

“Bauer leads them?!”

“Yes. But he has a much more moderate temperament. More about ending the statute of secrecy than magical superiority.” Said one of the knights.

Another hour later saw the two young wizards at the triage tent getting cleared in Harry's case and a fractured tibia healed in Ron's. Sitting on the ground were ten trussed up bound and gagged black robed wizards Harry didn't recognize most of them but two looked like older models of Krabbe and Goyle so he thought they must be their dads.

Off to the side a healer was chastising Fred and George who after saying they felt sorry for the ones arrested and wanted to give them a final treat before they go off to Azkaban and fed them their “ton tongue toffee.” The healer did not appear to be going to hard on the twins and they had yet to heal the “death eaters” as they were called apparently of their engorged tongues.

After the Weasleys had packed off Ron, Lupin collected Harry and Dudley. They didn't bother going back to their rooms. The entire structure was burned down so they just left.

____________________________________

The morning after the disaster that was the quiditch world cup the latest issue of the daily prophet was dropped on his table while he rested from his morning dueling training, which today was battlefield transfiguration harry was learning to turn the rubble of the battlefield against his opponents. Picking up the paper he read the headline article.

“Knights of Walpurgis save quidditch cup.” The article gave a brief history of the knights and their recent bid to revamp their reputation. Giving more detailed accounts on pages four,six, and eight. Harry took time to read everything he could only the subject the paper had and was found by Lupin and Andromeda sitting there eyes closed at the kitchen table as he sat and thought of his own feelings and experiences with this new group, he decided to trust them.

For now.

Chapter Text

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table in the great hall of Hogwarts Castle, Hermione and Ron on either side of him eating their way through as many courses of the amazing welcoming feast as they each could stomach and recounting the events of their summer holidays to their friends and classmates. There were many retelling the events during and after the Quidditch world cup. From Seamus Finnigan who now sported two less fingers on his left hand courtesy of a dark curse hitting him, to Neville who did not attend the game but listened in horror as the wizarding wireless network recounted the events live. Harry himself shared some events from the two weeks he spent in Mexico learning parcel magic from the feathered serpent. And Hermione was telling everyone who would listen about outbidding the Malfoys and her summer studies.

Before long the last morsel of dessert was packed away, by Ron to no one's surprise aside maybe Krabbe and Goyle.

Professor McGonagall stood behind the golden owl podium to give the start of term notices. As she stood the hall fell silent the only noise was the driving wind and rain that marred most of the ride on the train and caused Hermione, Harry and several other older students to cast drying and warming charms on various younger students who didn't know the charm yet.

“Now that dinner is done I have several start of term announcements to make before we all head off to bed.

Firstly as we know Remus Lupin resigned at the end of last year from the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, replacing him this year is Professor Black, Mister Lupin's teaching assistant.” There was a loud smattering of applause, welcoming Sirius as a full time professor. The man waved genially to his students and flashed his signature roguish grin.

“ Secondly the school is still under audit from the ministry, if you are asked questions please answer them thoughtfully and respectfully.” She gestured to two strangers sitting on opposite ends of the staff table.

“Lastly and most importantly I must announce that all school clubs and teams that utilize the grounds or large amounts of school time and space to organize have been suspended this year. This is due to an event starting at the beginning of October, the tri-wizard cup, has been revived for a fresh start and Hogwarts was chosen to host, for those of you who know what the Tri-wizard cup is I beg your forgiveness while I inform those of us who do not.

The Tri_wizard cup was started as an interschool championship between the three largest European magical schools at the time, those being Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, and of course Hogwarts. It was held every five years for centuries, but was discontinued almost two hundred years ago after a poorly planned event led to the death of all the champions and most of the crowd in attendance. This being said, there has been an age restriction put in place to protect younger students from erroneously entering, and even more restrictions and monitoring has been added to the procedures to ensure that no one's name is submitted by someone else as well as protections for the audience and safety standards for the tasks to ensure there are no lasting injuries. So I repeat all students who are of age at the time of entry, that is seventeen and up may submit their names for entry.” She stopped talking as a loud chorus of complaints broke out around the hall. The loudest being the Weasley twins who could benchmark saying “were seventeen in april why cant we have a go?”

When the voices died down she continued. “Prospective champions will have until the end of September to decide if they will participate and we will submit names during the feast welcoming the other schools.

Although these tasks will be safer than in years past they will still be difficult and dangerous and therefore I beg each person who chooses to enter please pay due consideration, once you are naked there is no backing out.”

After that she went through the standard start of year announcements that Harry blanked out on.

“Harry? Will you walk with me to the tower?” Asked Hermione, blushing scarlet the Gryffindor girls surounding were giggling, Harry thought, giggling should be made illegal.

“Err, yeah! Okay.” Harry, Hermione and Ron sat off towards their common room through a rapidly dispersing crowd before Hermione called out.

“I meant, Harry, Ron, not you and Harry, I want to talk to him, alone, please?” she said with a significant look at her red haired friend.

Ron blushed and looked away while muttering. “Oh, err okay, then sorry.” And he rushed forward while the other two lagged behind.

As the two walked slowly up the castle side by side passing by whispering portraits and creeping suits of armor Harry didn't feel the need to add conversation just yet, that was one of the best things about Hermione, while she did tend to prattle on and on about any given subject if it came up she also didn't feel the need to interrupt a comfortable silence. He was also waiting, waiting for her to ask him whatever it was she wanted to but couldn't in front of company.

“So” she said haltingly. “Are you going to enter?” She said after they had climbed to the third floor.

Harry, expecting the question, simply shrugged. “Yea, I figured I would try to, at least. A man at the world cup, Chancellor Bauer, I can't remember if you met him, anyway, he said that it would be a good way for me to prove to people I'm more than just my family's legacy. Start building my own achievements and things like that.”

“That makes some sense I guess, but Harry, I don't think we as fourth years have learned enough to be effective competition. I know your powerful Harry, more than anyone else I know just how gifted you are, but not everything can be solved with brute force.”

“I know that, I know there's critical knowledge that I lack but I'm confident I can learn or research or figure out what I need to in the time required. Besides I might not even be able to enter and if i can i might not get picked, I need to go get a copy of the actual language of the contracts and see if I can enter; even though I'm fourteen I'm still a legal adult. Depending on the wording of the restrictions I'll be able to participate.

“Do you really feel like you have a better chance than anyone else in the school?”

“No? Not really, but what is the harm in trying? At worst they tell me no I can't compete and at best I win?” Harry said with another shrug as they passed another landing to the fourth floor

“While it would be cool to win. It ultimately doesn't really matter to me. Either I can compete, in which case, I probably will. Or I can't, in which case, I won't, and I'll enjoy a good show.”

Hermione stopped and looked at him.“If it doesn't really matter then why compete?” she asked in a confused voice.

“Because I'm famous, I don't want to be famous, but I am, and if I have to be famous then I want to be famous for my own merit not because of my family or what my parents did to Voldemort. If I'm going to be a role model, I'm going to be the best one I can be, and resting on my laurels is not the correct way to do that.” He explained as they climbed the fourth floor stairs the rain battered hard on the window.

“If that's the case and you're not just turning into a glory seeking toerag.” She looked at him and smirked. “Then I'll help as much as I can and probably more than I'm technically allowed to.” This caused him to smile, he gestured for her to continue their solitary journey up to Gryffindor tower, the silence only interrupted by the raging storm outside.

___________________________________

The first week of turn was strange, even for Hogwarts, where the strange and unexpected were so commonplace they were no longer strange, nor unexpected. His schedule for instance no longer contained a potions class instead he received his potions instruction on Saturday were a full 6 hours of advanced brewing. If they were successful his fellow advanced potions classmates which consisted of daphne, draco, hermione and Hannah abbot would be able to sit their NEWTs by the end of fifth year.

After potions class Harry and Hermione took the opportunity to go see Sirius in his office while Ron went to an early dinner.

“Sirius? It's Harry!" The young man called only to be answered by a long haired head poking from inside the office's closet.

“Harry, and Hermione of course” he said with a barking laugh and a bright smile. “ To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from my favorite godson and accompanying bookworm.”

“We haven't seen you since before the Quidditch World Cup and thought we'd come check on you. Has everything cleared up with the ministry?” asked Harry.

“Hmm? Oh! Yes yes, all good I paid all applicable fines, I've always wanted to do that to that rotten house. Good riddance to bad rubbish.” He said with a continued smile.

“It's good you didn't get in further trouble, Lupin once said your family had a huge library in your ancestral manor, didn't you just destroy a whole host of rare books?!” Hermione started yelling at the end.

“Cool your jets, Hermione. I would never destroy a whole library while I'm sure a good number of books burned as that building did have its own library. The true Black family library is like you said, in the black family ancestral home, which is called Blacktooths hall, and is in the north of the country close to where the norse raiders originally landed as that's who we are descended from.”

“Oh well then that's something else entirely. When can we visit?”

Sirius barked out a laugh and told her they could visit whenever they wanted.

For another turn to the weird, Sirius pulled a play from McGonagall's book and gave them a talking to on Thursday for their first lesson.

“Listen and listen well, this is the year that we stop babying you in this course. This year and the years following you will learn of and practice some of the most dangerous magic known to wizards, combat magic. Magic with but one purpose, to hurt, incapacitate, or kill your fellow man. As well as how to prevent progress in rituals which are the most powerful, dangerous and hard to cast magics known. If you do anything unsafe or dangerous in my class from this point on, I will have you removed if not from the school than from my class and you shall not return." Harry saw his godfather's eyes flash around the room.

“Mr. Finnigan, perhaps, since you have so much to say you could tell us how to stop a ritual?” Seamus turned red and shook his head.

“Miss Brown, how do you rebound an incoming spell?” She too turned red, unable to answer.

“Mister Malfoy, Krabbe, or Goyle, given your families reputations perhaps you could share with the class the most common fuel for a ritual shield?” No answer.

“Then perhaps instead of talking while your instructor is speaking you shut up and listen! This isn't the time or place to mess around. Harry, could you answer any of these questions for me?”

“Sure.” Said Harry standing up. “The fastest way to disrupt a ritual is to destroy or damage the ritual circle or the inscribed runes. Which is why binding and syphoning rituals are so dangerous as the casters usually carve the ritual circle into their victims skin, which most rescuers are reluctant to damage further. To rebound a spell all you have to do is overcharge the tip of your wand to where it glows then simply catch the incoming spell and flick it in a direction away from what you don't want to hit. And the most common fuel for a ritual shield is the casters own blood, which is why these spells are usually cast with a group of at least 4 people, as you need far less blood per person and why they and many rituals are considered “darkarts”.

The rest of the class, even the slytherins, seemed very impressed with Harry's knowledge. Not many put together that it was first hand experience not book learning that he knew these things from.

Not only defence against the dark arts but all of his classes were becoming more difficult. All-around a stark increase in the amount, difficulty and frequency of homework had been experienced by the fourth year students. Even in his more theory driven classes they were beginning to put their knowledge to practical use, in ancient runes they began learning basic array connections. In arithmancy they were being asked to find the mathematical formulas that make up basic first year spells. And most exciting in their alchemy classes they were beginning to utilize the combined knowledge from runes and arithmancy to form alchemical formulas and learn how to write these in the alchemical language they had spent the previous years learning.

Yet throughout the school the main topic of conversation was not lessons or homework all students could hear while walking through the halls, whispers abounded of who was going to enter the tournament, who would actually be the champion for Hogwarts, and what tasks the champion could expect to find. Many whispered his name after the second morning of term.

____________________________________

Harry, flanked by Hermione and Ron, walked up to Headmistress McGonagall who paled at the mischief blatant on Harry's face before she composed herself.

“What can I do for you, Lord Potter?” She asked in a defeated expectant tone, Harry thought she already knew what he was going to ask.

“Well, headmistress, I was wondering if I could get a copy of the exact wording of the entry contract for the Tri-wizard tournament.” He smiled at her.

Her chin sunk into her shoulders as if she tried to shrug through a wince, sighing with exasperation. “You won't just take my word that you're ineligible?"

Harry smirked. “Would I be worth your time or consternation if I said yes?” This brought a round of hands slapping foreheads from around the table and Sirius to bark out a laugh. McGonagall cut off Harry's question by saying.

“Sometimes, Harry, though you never truly met him, you are so like your father it is frightening, there were many times he gave me near to that exact line while I was chastising him and his friends for whatever Tomfoolery they had been up to.” She smiled fondly at Harry and sent a glare Sirius' way.

“It just so happens that I anticipated this and have a booklet ready, and I can save you some reading, you are capable of participating, Lord Potter, you are an adult in our world, but I beg you not to, capable you may be but you are only fourteen and still recovering from the events at the end of last year. No matter your magical abilities or power the gap in base knowledge is a huge near unbridgeable gap.” She hands Harry a small book around an inch thick.

“Thank you ma'am for worrying about me, but this is one challenge I can not pass on.” Harry smiled genuinely at her care for him and she nodded in return as he turned Hermione quickly snatched the small book and began reading it.
____________________________________

As the month continued on Harry and Hermione became more and more sure of themselves in alchemy until one evening in late September Hermione delayed Harry’s venture to his four poster.

“Harry?” She called before he made it to the stairs. Harry stopped and returned to his friend raising a tired eyebrow

I- I have a surprise, you remember that package I received this morning” he nodded his ascent remembering her quickly hiding the medium sized package that morning with out checking it or opening it.

“Well that was a list of ingredients and purified chalk, I want to try a transmutation. A basic one tin to copper. How ever by my calculations I'll need an energy base bigger than I can currently produce without building alchemical batteries and that would warn professor Victor what I’m up to, so I'm wondering if you want to do this with me, to be the first in the class in the whole school to do real alchemy.”

“I don't know, Hermione alchemy is really dangerous. I don't think-” he stopped at the sight of her face. “I mean, sure yea, sounds great!”

“That's what I thought.” She said winking at him and smiling a special smile that usually meant she was up to breaking no less than twenty-six school rules. “Now I have some preparations to make and do, if you're going to help we'll take the next week and prepare you go read chapters five, six, and seven and memorize the transmutation circle on page forty-five.-”

“Boulder Dash!” Harry said to the portrait of the fat lady guarding the Gryffindor common room. And helping Hermione into the portrait hole. Once they were both through, Hermione began speaking again.

“ And practice drawing the circle until you can do it 100 percent from memory.” She said just as they reached the girls staircase.

“Okay, okay, I will, good night Hermione.” They continued to look at each other and Harry opened his mouth to continue talking but he had no idea what he would say so closed his mouth awkwardly and waved as he went off to his own bed.
____________________________________

A week of practice and study saw the two teens sneak out of the Gryffindor common room under the invisibility cloak in the dead of night the Friday before the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang arrived. They snuck through the quiet school past a creeping Argus Filch and up to a small, long abandoned classroom on seventh floor. The remnants of the last lesson plan were barely legible but it looked like an etiquette lesson and the surviving faded, dusty decorations gave the room a definite feminine touch.

“This classroom used to teach muggleborn girls the “propper” way to behave. The class was dropped by headmaster Phineas Nigellus black who believed muggleborns weren't worth the effort to teach.” Explained Hermione in a voice barely above a whisper.

“One of Sirius's family members was a headmaster?” Asked Harry.

“Oh yes, one of, if not the most unpopular headmasters of Hogwarts ever, yet he oversaw the school through the last big goblin rebellion and the sealing of some hidden and dangerous tunnels or some such, Hogwarts a history is not very clear about the matter just that the chamber was sealed forever and the hidden passages to it were removed or filled in.” she said with a disgruntled look, Harry knew she would never be satisfied with a book not being thorough in its explanations.

Wordlessly the two got to work Harry walked around the room and wrote out the transmutation circle with the alchemical formulas that Hermione figured out and wrote down for him, arrayed in patterns written throughout it taking his time and being careful not to make a single mistake. After double and triple checking every angle of the circle, writings, and calculations they took their places inside the “power nodes” of the circle where due to the amount of energy needed to transmute even the simplest speck of matter most alchemists employed the use of “alchemical batteries” devices that take around half a decade to build as you must build them up slowly over time and can produce and store vast amounts of energy, most of the work an alchemist does is simply breaking down items into their base atoms and collecting the energy that once bonded these atoms together into these batteries to fuel their actual experiments.

Still where technology lacks, numbers can make the difference and Harry agreed with hermiones assertions that with him and her together transmitting a gram of tin into a gram of copper shouldn't harm them. And so on the count of three the two teens pressed their wands into the ignition points and the chalk outline began to glow with magical energy.

To much energy, it was the greatest and quickest drain of his strength he had ever encountered. Across the room he saw Hermione clutch her chest and let out several grunts of pain, an action he altogether sympathized with as his own heart was beating, fast and irregular that quickly bowed his back in pain and made him catch himself on the ground breathing heavy, Hermione clutched her chest even tighter and fell limply sideways. He began crawling toward her, every inch of movement cost him more than it ever had his vision flashed and dimmed, the darkness of oblivion threatening to overtake him as he crawled across the circle.

“Hermio-nee-” he said as his vision and mind finally gave way to the darkness. He felt something cold and clamy in his hand and heard “H-H-REE” from his friend before he knew no more.

____________________________________

Harry had been yelled at plenty of times in his days at Hogwarts. Whether by Snape when the man had seemed to hate Harry to McGonagall threatening to talk to Andy the next time he did something reckless or his fellow students when he lost a whole host of points in his first year for helping Hagrid get rid of his pet dragon.

This time was the worst. McGonagall, vector, Snape, and Sirius all spent over and hour each, yelling at him for various things, a month of detention and 100 points total were taken from Harry and Hermione, the Granger parents were informed, and under special guide brought into the school to chastise their daughter and Harry in person.

They were the worst for Harry. Daniel Granger didn't yell, and it would have been better if he had. It was the quiet disappointment in his voice that made Harry realize just how much he had screwed up this time.

____________________________________

The Grangers were escorted into the hospital wing by McGonagall; they looked grave and Emma looked especially puffy eyed.

“Ill let you two sort them out shall I?” Said McGonagall before turning around and leaving. The granger parents walked the distance between them and the teens beds Daniel's arm draped consolingly around Emma's shoulders. When the parents arrived at the foot of their beds Hermione's mother sat at her side and began a whispered conversation and Daniel approached Harry his face unreadable but very clearly displeased. Harry hung his head prepared for the type of treatment he was used to from the Dursleys.

Daniel took a deep breath and seemed to relax his shoulders a bit. “Harry, I am not going to shout at you or hit you, so relax, I wouldn't do that to you, not for this. I will ask what you were thinking. Your headmistress told us what you two were doing and exactly how dangerous it was, you promised me you'd look out for my daughter and protect her. Now I see her laying in a hospital bed too weak to even stand.

That is not protecting, Harry. I know how my daughter is, I know if you had not been there she would still have been determined to do this. But stopping her from acting foolish is how you protect her, not by enabling her foolishness and being there to try to compensate for her inadequacies.” Harry could hear Hermione take in a sharp breath at her father calling her inadequate.

“Sir, that's not fair, I-”

“I don't care if it's fair or not Harry, you both endangered your own lives just to be first at something.

The two if you are so mature and act so grown most of the time, and it's hard most times for yourselves, your classmates and even us adults to see through that and remember your both still kids, and kids make mistakes. But you two are smart and powerful, you need to keep in mind your mistakes will be correspondingly larger and thus more dangerous than your peers. I want you both to be more careful in the future. Okay?”

“Yes sir.” Replied Harry in a rather creaky voice.

“Now, as I understand it, congratulations are in order. Can I see your prize?”

Harry threw a smile over at Hermione who held her hand up and presented a perfect cube of copper.

____________________________________

Daniel and Emma Granger had departed the next morning after sharing breakfast with their daughter. Harry and Hermione spent another two days of bed rest before they were released to go to breakfast with the rest of the school. As they approached they saw Krabbe, Goyle, and Knott getting escorted out of the hall, each student looking so despondent that Harry thought someone must have died.

“Oh no..” said Harry before rushing up to the boys and Professor Snape. Harry had gotten to know and had grown quite fond of the lumbering slytherin who had a quiet intelligence that was usually hidden behind his hulking muscles and Goyle's bad attitude.

“Krabbe?” Harry called out, halting the boulder of a boy. The boy in question turned and made a questioning sound deep in his throat.

“Our dads are being put before the wizengamot today we're going to the trial.” he stalled out with his bass rumble.

“If there's anything I can do for you Krabbe just ask? You're not your father and shouldn't be punished for his crimes.” The boy gave a serious nod before continuing with his group.

“Guess Malfoy didn't get caught."

“No he did….. maybe he's getting a separate trial they probably singled him out of the ring leader.”

“That would make sense.” Harry shrugged and opened the door to the great hall.

It was that night with an addition of the evening profit that they found out what happened at the trial.

There were over twenty defendants, most were children of noble or ancient families; several were lords to those families.

The members and heirs were barred from their inheritance and sentenced to five years in Azkaban for muggle baiting, assault battery attemded rape, rape, and incitement of and participating in civil unrest.
The lords were stripped of their titles, lands, deeds and money or fined in a way that led to the same result. Lord knott was now simply Mr knott he lost the family their entire fortune.

The Goyles and Krabbes were fined but not excessively as they weren't seen to be in control of anything during the riot. And Lucius Malfoy's trial. It was finally reported to start in the middle of October.

As the month went on, many of those kids that went to their father's trials never returned. Krabbe was one of the few to come back as his family did not need to rescind the tuition payment in order to have money. The slytherin quiditch team was completely stripped, exceeding malfoy who became the de facto captain. Harry suspected that this event might have shut Malfoy up but it only made his arrogance worse, strutting through the hall with his quidditch captain badge glinting on his chest bossing people around like he was head boy.

‘I give it a month before they take his badge.’ Harry thought.

The fact that they even handed out the badges surprised Harry, there had been a student protest against the school not doing quidditch that year but as no one had heard anything in the two weeks since the event occurred they figured their demands fell on Def ears when Malfoy, Angelina Johnson, Cedric Diggory and Roger Davies were called up to the head table one breakfast and told to form the teams and that Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had agreed to an interschool quidditch tournament where each school would get two teams.

The foreign schools were set to arrive in two days and Harry could see signs of preparation everywhere. McGonagall brought in professional cleaners to supervise and clean. The entire school from first year students to the oldest house elves where cleaning the school of every speck of dust or mess imaginable every suit of armor shown for the first time in centuries and the coats of arms were all brightly polished, not even the paintings escaped as under the watchful eye of filch, more artistic students cleaned the canvases until the subjects of the painting were rubbing their raw pink faces.

The morning that the foreign students were due to arrive saw the entire student body going through the entire school starting at the top and cleaning until 6 o'clock where they were sent to their dormitories to clean themselves up and dress in their best uniform clothes and then off they went to the entrance hall where they were divided by year and then house and then hight and put into staggered slanted rows from the shortest students of each year at the front and the tallest closest to the doors, the effect was a very nice and orderly checkerboard effect that afforded every student a view.

Head mistress McGonagall stood equal distance from both columns in the exact center of the lane leading to the entry hall. Where she checked a pocket watch and began to speak.

“Right, please remain in tryout places and greet our guests with a cordial round of applause. There will be some recognizable faces so I expect you to act your best while representing our school. The students from Beauxbatons academy will be- ahh here they are now.”

Harry and the rest of the students turned their eyes to where their head mistress was looking.

Chapter Text

Just as Harry turned he saw a team of truly massive flying horses fly over the steepled roof of the entrance hall. As it descended and circled back around over the lake Harry saw the insanely large powder blue carriage that the giant Pegasus’ pulled through the sky and then just over the surface of the lake the large palomino horses made contact with the ground and the wagon trundled the last hundred or so feet to the entrance hall.

Everything was still and silent for a minute until the door to the carriage opened and a young boy lept from it to the ground and after fiddling around with the bottom of the carriage pulled out a set of gold folding steps and stepped back in a deep bow, a foot then emerged from the carriage door a foot dressed in a finely made high heeled boot made a very fine smooth looking leather that crept up to at least mid calf the rest was obscured by a well made thick cotton dress that adorned the largest woman that Harry had ever laid eyes on, this woman easily if not topped Hagrid in sheer height. In fact if he was not used to Hagrid the sight would have been just as alarming to him as it was to several other students around him who gasped in surprise or let out quickly stifled excited shrieks. The woman stepped alone from the carriage and approached McGonagall.

“Dear Minerva, iit wonderful to see you again.” The woman bent nearly in half and placed shockingly gentle kisses near the cheeks of the headmistress.

“Olympe, it is a pleasure to have you here at Hogwarts. I welcome you and your students. Would you like to stay here and wait for the Durmstrang delegation or go into the warmth?” McGonagall asked and gestured to the side drawing Harry's attention to the group of Beauxbatons students all standing huddled together while trying to give as much poise as they could muster while shivering one student was not shivering how ever for unlike her classmates whom were wearing steel blue robes made of fine silk she was wearing heavy fur lined robes made of a thick and warm fabric, the students platinum blonde hair and the fact that she was staring straight at harry and smiling a beaming smile made her instantly recognizable the minute he focused on the French beauty.

“Fluer!” Hermione shouted but clamped her mouth shut with her hand and quality as McGonagall turned her way her mouth a thin line.

“Bonjour Eermione, Arree!” Called flour earning her just as dour a look from her own head mistress before the austere giant woman continued.

We will stay and wait. My pupils thought it wise to not heed my warnings of the cold and I feel, must pay for their decisions.” She gestured for her students to line up next to her, who did so immediately and waited silently shivering and huddled a bit closer together then people normally would.

“Is the Durmstrang delegation traveling in that infernal ship of theirs?” Madam Maxime asked.

“I believe so ye-” McGonagall was cut off by an odd suckimg and splashing sound and eyes turned to the lake whose surface was rolling and writhing like a giant jacuzzi before a massive ghostly ship flung itself out of the water bobbing hither and thither as water rolled off its deck the ship was massive 3 cannon decks and to harry it looked every bit of 300 feet long possibility longer. The ship came closer to shore and several platforms formed from the ship when the anchor was laid and Harry could see a line of hulking figures disembark from the ship and stroll heavy footed from the ship; not a single one looked smaller than Krabbe or Goyle.

As the Durmstrang delegation approached it became clear that they students were not in fact the size of small bull elephants but instead most were rather skinny but they were thick and full winter cloaks made of some scraggly looking fur at their head strode a tall slender man in a crimson red and black three piece suit the jacket fell to the man's knees his blood red hair tied at the back of his head and his shoes were more akin to combat boots than Penny loafers. It gave the effect of a dangerous man who had been gentle by responsibilities rather than desire. As he approached further Harry couldn't help but stare into the man's sharp ice blue eyes.

“Ahh Commander Oblask it's a pleasure to see you again, a fine journey I take it?” Asked McGonagall.

“It was pleasant enough, Minerva. My students handled the ship like professionals, Victor especially led the young men with distinction as my first mate. Though I must say I've never been one for open water, we passed a kraken on the way through Norway and if it wasn't busy hunting a humpback I shudder to think what would have happened.” The man spoke with a deep smooth voice that seemed to ooze confidence no matter the words he spoke. It furthered Harry's impression that this was a very dangerous person. “It is good to be here at Hogwarts. I wished to attend in my youth of course but my father thought Durmstrang was best.” He gave a small wistful smile and looked at the many turrets and towers. “I have heard a great deal of things about this castle from Dumbledore, a shame about him. But I am excited to see if half of what he told me about the castle was true.”

After Oblask and Maxime gave their greetings to each other McGonagall gave a signal and all students began to file into their inti the great hall. Harry did not need the punch to the arm that Ron gave him when the Durmstrang lot passed them nor the frantic whisper of “Harry, its Krum, victor krum. When they entered the great hall they saw that the large house tables had been drawn in together and two smaller tables sat on either side of the hall. The staff table was also expanded to accommodate the extra people.

“Why are there four extra seats if there's only two extra people?” Asked hermione. Their conversation was cut short as Smara knocked the doors open and entered the hall all sixty feet of her sinewy length on display as she made her way once around the hall and then to Harry, her massive head coming down to stare into his eyes.

“Hello little one, cast a warming charm on that frozen skin of yours so I can climb up" Laughing Harry did so ignoring the screams there were still going on around the hall and then touched the center of her head with his wand imbuing her with his magic and allowing her to shrink herself. Harry sat down once Smara was ensconced in her favorite position.

McGonagall cleared her throat behind Harry drawing his and Smaras' attention. “Smara, if you are quite done frightening our guests, I will ask you to refrain from doing that again, student or not, human, or not. I will find a way to put you in detention.”

“Yes, headmistress.” Harry parroted contritely for Smara. McGonagall walked to the head table and sat between her two colleagues making quiet conversation and gesturing every now and then towards Smara, professor Oblansk seemed very interested in Smara. After a time and everyone had settled McGonagall stood up to address the school

“Good evening to our Hogwarts students and I hope you'll join me in welcoming the delegations from Beauxbatons Academy and Durmstrang Institute. Tonight marks the beginning of what we hope to be a fun and unforgettable year but for now let us sit and eat our fill, do not be afraid to mingle with your fellow students, the tables are not assigned and you must only sit at your school tables during the official tournament events and announcements." With this she clapped her hands and the plates filled with, Harry immediately noticed, a larger selection of food that was usual. He turned to Hermione with a raised eyebrow asking for clarification.

“Some of these are French and the others must be dishes from the areas that Durmstrang covers. That soup there,” she said, pointing to a light well seasoned shellfish soup. “Is bouillabaisse; It's very good. I had it on holiday the first time I met Fleur. And that red soup must be borscht. There's some German dishes as well, I think so anyway.”

Harry loaded his plate and a small bowl with a selection of the foreign foods and was soon bowled over by an ecstatic Fleur tackling Hermione in a fierce hug and the two colliding with Harry.

“Eermione! Iit eez good to see you I ‘ave miissed you and Aarry of course.” she said reaching over over and touseling Harries hair.

“Gahh” Harry said, swiping her hand away. “Gerr off, my hair doesn't need any assistance in being a mess thanks.” This caused the older French girl to laugh.

“So Aarry ‘ave your eyes healed yet do you yet like what you see?” She said in a teasing purr running a hand down her hip

Harry looked the girl up and down. “S'all right, I suppose; I've seen your pictures befor-” Harry cut himself off as he noticed that every guy and several girls around him had slack jaws and glassy eyes. Ron was drooling and suddenly they all snapped awake and alert.

“What the?” Shouted Ron shaking his head like a dog trying to clear its ears of water, several boys around him were repeating the action. This confused Harry as he had no idea what happened.

“I knew eet!” The older girl jumped, clapping excitedly. “You are all but immune to the Veela allure. At first I suaght that eet was because you were blind.” She points to Ron with her thumb “being this close to me you should have been a drooling mess like them.” She said flicking her head to the other boys around them

“What does that mean for Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, any numbear oof things I would not woorry about iit, iit is just rare, especially for a boy your age.” She wiggled her eyebrows and sent Harry blushing and looking at the table as he caught her meaning.

“Well, Harry is an extremely gifted wizard.it makes sense that he wouldn't fall for such things” Hermione smiled. Causing fluer to narrow her eyes harry could tell the young veela was offended

“So zis is the basilisk he spoke of? She is tré belle no? I can see why you compliment her so” this got an appreciative hiss from Smara.

“I'm rather fond of her as well.” Hermione said. The snake in question slithered across the table and took up residence on Hermione's shoulders scenting the air around the Veela and letting out a string of hisses.

“Uhhhhh, she's essentially saying you smell like a fierce hunter and wishes to go hunting with you.” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Well I do not go hunting but for a queen of serpents I might take up the activity.” Fluer joked.

They ate for a time; talking about inconsequential things and introducing Fluer to the others as they gradually became used to the presence of her allure, after an hour only Ron seemed to still be feeling its effects, a fact which seemed to annoy Traci davis and Lavender Brown when they moved from their respective seats. Daphne was chatting with Fluer about French fashion when she nearly jumped from her skin and turned to Harry.

“Oh! Harry, Dudley wanted me to ask you if you had any wizarding fashion magazines or anything from Madame Malkins? I would normally ask people from my own house but…” she cut herself off unwilling to speak ill of her house.

“Why is Dudley interested in wizard fashion? And why is he asking you?”

“Because,” she said blushing “we already correspond, and because I'm a girl, a girl who is into fashion unlike Hermione and Tracy, no offense to either of you.”

“None taken.” They responded in unison.

“And also-, well I'm not telling you it's a secret. Do you have something or not.” She continued.

“No, but I can have Tappy drop off something for him at Smeltings.” Harry shrugged.

“Oh-, I didn't think of house elves, good plan I don-” she was cut off by the headmistress ringing her glass and standing up at the golden owl podium.

“Now that we've eaten our fill and partaken of some of the Hogwarts house elves finest work. I dare say it is time to continue with tonight's ceremony. In a moment we will bring out the impartial selector for the Triwizard tournament. It will, when every student who wishes to join the tournament select those three students it believes to be best in the school, how it does this is a secret known only to its maker. I ask all students to be silent or atleast hold their voices to a whisper while those students who wish to compete put their names in. This is symbolic, a long moment of silence for all past participants, many of whom passed away in the attempt of winning.

Now please bring the casket.”

CLANG

CLANK

CLANG

CLANK

The hall rang with what sounded like the foot falls of several armored giants.

The doors to the great hall were opened and in tred a loud clunking clanking procession of six, eight foot tall suits of brutish armor with spikes adorning the knees, shoulder pads, and visor, their hands where clawed and the metal of their armor was mat black as deep black as the void. The front and back two carried standards of a glossy black thread that depicted a simple chalice that writhed in flames made the most vivid blue thread harry had ever seen it seemed to glow with an inner light the center four knights carried a large stone chest carved in intricate patterns Harry couldn't properly see if the dim light. The entire hall was struck silent at this ominous parade, Nobody, not even Lavender Brown Gryffindors loudest chatterbox, spoke so much as a syllable as it passed them. As the group reached the area in front of the high table the great stone casket was lowered to sit on the ground and the knights fanned out around it the standard carriers on the outside and the four guardians in the center in a half circle around the cup each out four pulled out a sword made of the same black material that shimmered in wraith like purple fire. The knights then stood still, their pose reminiscent of the queen chessman from McGonagall's giant chess set that defended the philosopher's stone.

The entire hall stood silent, staring at these imposing figures. The three heads of the three schools approached and in unison tapped the lid of the casket, slowly as if the thick stone was not there a great goblet roughly hune from the same rock as the chest, rose from the interior of the stone tomb it had assumably sat in since the close of the last tournament.

The three head of house grounded the goblet and held out their hands and pulled out silver daggers in unison they cut their palms and let a trickle of blood fall into the goblet as they intoned “we masters of our schools call forth the wizards fire to open the tournament and judge its entrants fair and capable.” As they pulled their hands back blue fire sprung into existence from the bottom of the goblet and filled the thing to the rim and then above by about 2 feet with the spectral blue fire.

“This,” started McGonagall gesturing to the flaming cup. “Is the goblet of fire, and these are its guardians; they ensure that only those who wish to enter the tournament do so and that no one is entered against their will.

If you bring your attention to your plates, those that are eligible will have a slip of parchment and a black quill, this quill is a blood quill be warned it will sting when you write as it takes your blood for ink, no lasting damage will be done so do not fret.”

Harry looked down and saw his slip of parchment and held up the black quill. It was cold to the touch and didn't seem to warm any the longer he held it. He caught Hermione's eyes and smiled at her concerned expression.

“To enter the tournament all you need to do is write your full name on the parchment given to you and then walk up to the goblet of fire and drop it in.”

Murmuring broke out through the hall and everyone watched and waiting to see who would be first to stand. Harry scratched out his name and made to stand when Cedric Diggory stood at the same time Victor Krum and the rest of Durmstrang, Warrington, a member of the slytherin quidditch team stood as well did Roger Davis and Angelina Johnson. Then the whole of the Beauxbatons delegation with Fleur hopping up to join them.

Harry sat with his hand on the parchment and stared at it, did he really think he had a chance to compete? Should he even bother when we would be facing competition with 3 years more magical education than he had?

His attention was brought back to reality when Fred and George approached the goblet each holding a piece of parchment and just as they were about to drop it in one of the hulking suits if Armor steps forward and slashed his sword crossways their the twins arms, bodies and the parchment squares they were holding and although the black steel passed through them all that was harmed was the parchment with split in two in their grips and shouldered into ash as the wafted down to the floor. The scream of terror from the twins was something Ron particularly would not ever let them live down.

Harry stood as the twins ran back to their seats at the slytherin table which they joined earlier in the feast laughing at how uncomfortable the slytherins were around them. Every eye in the hall fell on him, even, he was shocked to see, the eyes of the four suits of armor now that he could see them properly he could see a wraith like fire in each eye hole. The armor's gaze filled him with an awareness of perception he had not felt since he first met the flying serpent. As he approached the silent hall he could feel the magic swirling off of the armor with an uneasy un natural stutter that made him want to vomit.

Whatever those things were, they weren't normal living suits of armor like in Hogwarts. There was something utterly unwholesome about them.

Fetted, rotted, he closed his eyes and he could see them silvery white like ghosts but this being had the dedicated look of a mummy he had once seen in a school textbook. They stared at him but didn't seem to know he could see them. His eyes snapped open and he had to physically stop himself from jumping back several steps. He held his hand out and dropped his parchment in the goblet where it fell in with a silent whoosh. The knight didn't react. The great hall stood silent, aware, yet, ignorant of what appeared to frighten Harry so much, especially as he continued to stare at the knights, unease plain on his face.

“Is something the matter, Mister potter?” McGonagall asked, getting no response from Harry she looked into his blank stare. “Mister potter?” She approached him and shook his shoulder causing him to jump.

“Wha-?”

“Are you alright lord potter?” She asked again calmly.

“Eh- yes? Yes! Sorry ma'am I zoned out." Harry said and he rushed back to his seat and a concerned Hermione. Eyes followed him all the way back.

“Harry, what was that!” Hermione whispered frantically as he dropped into his seat.

“I-” he turned his head to the knight's position; he could have sworn one of them was watching him. “I don't know, something is wrong with those knights you can't feel it back here but go near them and- I just don't know. Those aren't magical constructs I can tell you that much.”

“I've read a few books about the tournament, those knights have always been with the goblet since it was created but I think they are older, I believe they tied them to the goblet out of necessity I believe they once guarded Herpo the fouls island fortress, what is now Azkaban, but I could be wrong about that.”

“Foul is one word I could use to describe them” he shivered. McGonagall speaking drew their attention to the goblet again.

“Is there anyone else who would like to enter?

No?

Well then knight commander you may proceed.”

One of the four knights stepped forward to stand towering over the goblet where after positioning his blade to hover over the center of the cup and very suddenly plunged his fiery sword into the writhing flames below him and the fire and every slip of parchment was sent flying into the air as the fire dissipated in the air all but three slips of parchment were burnt to ash; those three remaining squares were quickly skewered by the swords of the three remaining knights. They stood then and rested next to each other as the first went into the crowd and came to a stop behind Victor Krum at the Durmstrang table. “The Durmstrang champion is Victor Krum!” Shouted headmaster Oblask.The whole hall cheered as he stood and was escorted back to the front of the hall and then next knight went and walked down the aisle where hermione sat across from him clanking closer and closer and closer until it stopped behind her, or more behind-

“The beauxbatons champion is Fluer Delacour!” Called the impervious voice of madame Maxime. As Fleur was also escorted to stand at the front of the Hall and the last knight took off banging and clanging across the hall with hollow footsteps down the aisle closest to the wall it passed Angelina, it passed Lee Jordan. And it stopped right behind him. As it got closer Harry could feel the twisted magic flowing from the metal carapice the feeling made him want to gag. Harry stood and a silent magical signal that sounded in his head and he followed the hollow knight. He was so suddenly nervous that he couldn't even hear the ringing applause he was getting from around the great hall until he was in front of them and the knights had backed away slightly.

“We have our champions and from this minute onward the tournament has begun!”

BANG!

The main door to the hall was blasted open and in flew three smokey figures clad flew into the hall when they landed the revealed three wizards in black hooded robes with black cowls covering their faces and their wands were drawn; that was all Harry allowed himself to see as he reacted quickly diving to the side with a quick and quiet “protego.” More spells flew to him and bounced off his shield charm before shattering it.

“Balls!” Harry cursed. Before diving away from three more spells. “Protego!” He shouted, conjuring another shield. Before drawing his wand in a large circle chanting “aguamenti, glicio spiculum, durro.” He summoned a ring of floating water, froze it into ten spear-like spikes and hardened them before a strong “depulso!” sent them hurtling at his opponent. A second before the unknown wizard blocked them Harry added “Duplio!” And doubled the amount the wizard was able to block all but five of the darts but those five sunk and pierced the wizards wand arm from his wrist all the way up to his shoulder he fell down screaming clutching at his destroyed limb. Harry turned his attention to help Fluer and Krum but McGonagall grabbed his wand from him.

“No Mister Potter you must let them defeat their own opponents, I'm afraid outside assistance will make the black knights behind you very unhappy.” Harry turned to see the impassive unreadable figure standing behind his sword raised but was already lowering it. The sight made him shudder. Krum was the next to pacify his opponents, wrapping him in thick iron chains and Fleur transfigured her wizard's robes into a straight jacket. After a moment McGonagall made her way to the golden podium and began to speak.

“a very well job done by all three champions, if this does not warn you then let me vocalize what this means,

In this tournament you are never truly safe. Trials and tribulations will pop up at any moment and you are expected to handle them as they come. Sometimes it will be feats of combat, others will be magical understanding or testing your abilities in other ways. For further details let me introduce ludo bagman, head of the Ministry's department of magical games and sports.”

From outside the hall walked the man Harry knew from the Quidditch World cup; now sporting a very noticeable limp.

“ Good o' everyone, shall we get to it then?

Well then spaced throughout the year there will be three main tasks performed in front of the schools and the judges. Three secondary objectives to be done that will give the champion a hint in how to complete the next task is and three tertiary events that will give the champion an advantage in the next task. Since all three of our champions completed this dueling event we can just tell everyone that the main task will be performed on October thirty-first and will have to do with fire, how our champions prepare is of course up to them.

The champions will work to prepare with no help from teachers or school or government staff.”

The once jovial man turned to McGonagall and gestured for the door with a wry regretful smile, after she nodded and they shook hands he departed.

“It was meant for a member of the games and sports department and the office of international magical cooperation to be unbiased judges and resources for the students and champions during these events but after the world cup both offices are needing all hands on deck so we will be working to fill those spots before the first task.

Now for the rest of the students do not feel you will be left out there will be several inter school competition is going on in between the tasks. A chess tournament, a quick recall tournament, a dueling tournament, a quidditch tournament and a few other smaller events, tryouts for these events will start in the coming weeks and the events themselves will start after the first task. Champions are not allowed to compete in any event outside of the tasks and are due to the difficult and dangerous nature of the tournament will be exempted from end of year tests.

Mister Potter, I would like to speak to you.”

While the head mistress was speaking, Harry was watching Madame Pomfrey heal the man he had injured, he recognized the man from somewhere. At his name being called he snapped his attention to the headmistress and made his way to her.

“Mister potter, while I am not going to punish you for your reaction. We should have known you would react with the intention to put down the threat as soon as possible given what you've been through it only makes sense that is a natural response we should have foreseen , I would however caution you to not use lethal force against anything you see in the tournament you did serious damage to auror Robards there, how ever I would like to give you twenty points to Gryffindor, for that immaculate charm and transfiguration work.”
Coming from McGonagall the term immaculate was extravagant praise and it brought a toothy smile to the young lord's face.”

“Yes, professor, I'll be more careful in the future, will he be alright?”

“Oh yes, he's already fully healed.” She gestured over to the auror flexing his wrist back and forth. “Though it might be sore for a few days, his pride, however, will take a bit longer to heal. nothing Poppy can do about that injury.” She said this in a level tone but couldn't quite hide the unmistakable pride in her voice. “Now lord Potter I see Miss Granger and young mister Weasley waiting for you. Why don't you head up to Gryffindor tower and stop depriving this chance to Gryffindor to make a great deal of mess and noise.

Harry ran over to his friends who almost as soon as they left the great hall began to praise him loudly.

“Harry, that was amazing. You did so well with no prep time. How did you do that spell chain? When did you learn it? Those were some really advanced techniques.” Hermione asked excitedly. At the same time Ron asked “ how did you do that floating freely water thing?”

“Did you two forget who I have at my house? Remus has been teaching me some advanced dueling techniques when I'm waiting on a potion to brew.

You don't think I sit around all day do you? After how I was raised? I don't sit around. I can't really if I'm not working on something. My own thoughts drive me nuts. Plus Smara chides me like a mother hen when I'm not keeping myself busy.” This drew a chastising hiss from his serpent companion. Ron looked at Harry for a translation. “Honestly sometimes a hiss is a hiss she is a snake after all.”

“Soooooo Potter. You really are so big headed that you think you have a chance at winning do you,” a drull nasally voice breaks through their conversation.

“ Well Draco, the magical cup that picks the champions, certainly thinks so, or it would have picked Cedric or Angelina.” Spoke Hermione coolly.

“ Precious Potter always gets what he wants well, well see how far you get half if the triwizard champions have died? How far do you think you'll get?” Draco snarked.

“Oh I don't know, probably two or three times farther than you could manage.” Harry said, causing his two friends to laugh.

Draco stormed off with a sour look on his face. A few minutes later they arrived at gryffindor tower and McGonagall was right the whole house was excited to make as much noise and mess as possible, they're butter beer flowed like water and the food was piled high despite just coming from a feast the twins had already snuck off the Honeydukes and the hogwarts kitchens to procure snacks. The party lasted well into the night monitored by Professor Weasley who patently ignored the presence of Honeydukes products.

Just for the night of course.

Chapter Text

Harry's first week as Hogwarts champion was one of his very best in his time at Hogwarts. Almost the whole school was on his side and prepared to assist him in any way possible. Only a few people had anything to say most of those being in Slytherin who disliked anyone in Gryffindor on principle the only true descendant Harry had was Malfoy, who a few days after Harry's name coming out of the goblet of fire had tried handing that read “Potter stinks, support Warrington a true Hogwarts Champion.” It was only Malfoy's group of sycophants that even wore them and that was squashed when Warrington himself gave Malfoy a public tongue lashing about school unity during a tournament and being a true slytherin.

Professor Weasley, professor Flitwick, and Sirius all broke down various aspects of the three duels in their lessons giving details and reasons as to why each champion did what they did, Sirius focused mainly on Harry's duel.

____________________________________

“We will focus on Harries duel for the time being, after all it's not everyday a fourteen year old can take out a trained auror with a single spell combo. So tell me Mister Thomas why was what Harry did so effective?” Sirius asked after he had given the Introduction.

“Ahh, err, well I figure it's because what Harry did was physical and shield charms don't protect against physical objects.” Dean said, sounding not so sure of himself.

“Just so Mister Thomas has two points for Gryffindor. And why, Mrs Patil is opening up an attack with a physical force smarter than a purely magical jinx or hex? Aside from Mister Thomas's reason.” Sirius questioned in his usual style of passing questions back and forth around the class making sure everyone answered at least one.

The girl in question shot to attention obviously she had not been paying attention. She answered after he repeated his question. “It's because most wizards don't expect physical attacks. Most wizards have the shield charm readied up in their head and with the incoming physical attack they have to reevaluate and come up with another charm or spell giving you a split second advantage.”

“Correct, one point for Gryffindor on account of you not paying attention at first. This brings me to the main point of the lesson today: the concept of the OODA loop.” He smiled at the class, while writing the phonetic spelling “oo-D-ah” and three arrows chasing each other in a circle. Harry knew his godfather was waiting for a certain question and within a few seconds it was asked by a ravenclaw boy whose name always escaped Harry.

“What is an OODA loop sir?” The ravenclaw boy asked. Pronouncing the word carefully.

“It is an abbreviation of a decision making process coined by a muggle fighter jet pilot when I was a kid. I loved fighter jets and I drove my parents crazy.” He explained with a wistful smile on his face. “Anyone care to take a crack at naming the abbreviated words in O.O.D.A? No? Right then we'll it stands for observe, orient, decide, and act. It's the standard decision making process for every sane person on the planet muggle or magical. In the case of a wizards duel you observe your opponent, orient yourself in fighting a wizard who is most likely going to throw a charm or hex at you, decide on a spell and then act in casting that spell whether it be defensive or offensive.

Now what did Harry do in his duel to disrupt his opponents OODA loop? Miss Granger?”

“He did two things, professor, the biggest part is that he used a physical attack, like Dean said, instead of a magical one. The other thing he did was use spells that are not standard or even thought until the end of fifth year this caused his opponents to second guess his own actions and then second guess his second but Harry also did a third thing and duplicated the projectiles flying at Robards making him reset his OODA loop again mid action and allowing harry to slip several projectiles past a trained auror's defenses and end the duel in about a minute.” Hermione was practically glowing as she praised Harry's abilities until a wolf whistle sounded and she went pink.

Sirius glared at the whistling student before smiling. "Perfect answer, Miss Granger, yes, these are not long or even obvious advantages but in a fight a split second can be the difference between a win and a loss.”
____________________________________

Harry sat in the common room doing Sirius's homework, a twelve inch essay on “How to disrupt an opponents thought process in a duel and turn it to your advantage.” The previous week had been very nice Fluer took her meals with her schoolmates but she spent plenty of time with Hermione and him showing them both advanced techniques or snippets of information they hadn't learned in their classes adding depth of experience and knowledge to their assignments while they studied together.

Hermione was true to her word and helped Harry as much as she could Ron did as well though he made it clear he found spell research sacrilegious, due to Bagman's warning they were researching anti fire and fire control spells as much as they could. He had mastered the flame freezing charm already and he was working on a very hard charm that redirected fire and one that controlled fire though that spell was only fire you conjured yourself. It was two-weeks into being champion when Colin Creevey knocked on the door of Harry's alchemy.

“Professor vector sorry to interrupt but I have a note excusing Harry from class, Harry professor McGonagall is looking for you down in the entry hall.” Collin said in his usual wheezing excited voice.

Harry quickly gathered his books and waved bye to his friends and commenced to following Colin down through the school.

“What does the headmistress need with me, Collin?” Harry asked as they passed the statue of a one eyed old crone.

“Oh, to take pictures, I believe. I think I saw a photographer from the daily proghet…errr.. at least I think? He definitely had a camera.” the third year responded timidly.

‘See anything else?” Asked Harry in response.

“Just some tall blonde woman.” Colin shrugged as they made it to the first floor. The door to a large chamber connected to the entry hall opened the room was mainly for parents coming in for a meeting with staff about their misbehaving children but now it seemed to be the meeting place for the champions because headmistress McGonagall stuck her head out and called out impatiently. “Hurry, Mister Potter, the other champions have been here five minutes already!”

Waving goodbye to Collin, Harry said. “I'm sorry professor, I got here as soon as I could. I was on the fifth floor alchemy.”

“Aww I apologize then, this was a total surprise of course, the wand weighing ceremony was scheduled for next week but mister Olivander had something urgent come up and is leaving the country in a few days” McGonagall explained. Harry's eyes flicked to the old wispy man he knew from the wand shop. Then to a man with a large camera around his neck and a dull expression on his face and most worrying of all Rita Skeeter. The blonde reporter looked like a starved lion before a fat goat as soon as she laid her eyes on Harry.

“Harry!” The reporter. Called out in a sickly sweet voice. “How lovely to see you again. We never did get around to that interview, care to step into somewhere private and we can sort that out before we get started here?”

“Sorry Rita! I was advised by my lawyer never to give private interviews without him present.” he said in a cheery tone but regretful tone that almost sounded honest, it still brought a smile to the reporter's face.

“Damn that Ted Tonks, thinks of everything doesn't he, Harry? Still you can't escape my quill forever dear, the entire wizarding world is clamoring to know all about you.” She added a Saucy drawl as she spoke as if hoping to entice him but all it did was make him uncomfortable.

“Well if we are all here and ready we can begin the wand weighing.” McGonagall said shortly pulling Harry away from the vulture…err… reporter.

“What's the wand weighing, professor?” Harry asked if he had read about past tournaments but not how they started.

Garrick olivander spoke up in response. “The weighing of the wands is to ensure all the champions wands are in complete working order. As they will be your most important tool in the coming challenges. Now let's start with you, mister Krum.” He gestured for Krum to step forward who did so and handed the old wand maker his wand. “Ahh this is a Gregorovich creation is it not?”Krum nodded in response. “Excellent craftsmanship horn beam and dragon heatstrong 10 ¼ inches, a fine grip and very wippy. But…” he looked concerned here. “How old is this wand, Mister Krum?” He asked, his eyebrows drawing together.

“Old, it vass my grandfather's given to me when he passed. It has vorked for me my entire school career.” Krum said, sounding defensive.

“I don't doubt that yet I feel - concerned. This wand is worn and fragile while every day use will do it fine. I fear the competition will do irrevocable harm to it, it might even fail in the middle of a competition. You can come to my shop before the first task and we will set you up good and proper Mister Krum do not worry.” The wand maker spoke reassuringly and patted the famous seeker on the shoulder.

Krum was looking forlornly at his wand and nodding as the old wand maker shuffled up to Fluer. “Now you miss Delacour.” He said holding his hand out, Fluer dropped her wand in his hand immediately. He examined the wand up and down seemingly mesmerized. “Dear me this is quite the combination! Rosewood 9 ½ with the hair of a-” he exclaimed as Fluer cut him off.

“ A Veela, one of my grandmere's.”

“Indeed, I never use veela hair myself. I find that they make rather temperamental wands; however, to each his own and this wand seems to be in fine working order.” He smiled, waved the wand and handed Fluer the dozen roses he conjured along with her wand before turning to Harry and smiling, holding out his hand to relieve Harry's wand.

Harry felt a moment of trepidation remembering the secret of his wand he had long held silent and wondering if the man would explain the connection between his wand and the wand of lord Voldemort. Harry placed the wand in the old man's hand a moment later who received it with a nostalgic and fond smile.

“Ahh now this is one I am very familiar with, one of mine, holly and phoenix feather 11 ¼ inches nice and supple, a powerful wand, a great combination and it is in fine working order. You've never had a problem with it?” Olivander asked, quivering an eyebrow.

“No sir, it's always been perfect for me.” Harry beamed.

“As I told you it would be my boy as I told you it would; the wand chooses the wizard, And a fine one you are turning into I dare say! And- ahh yes Minerva!” He quickly stood tall and turned to the headmistress, quick as a flash. “When I entered the school I passed the young lord Longbottom and I could hear that poor wand crying. He is unfit for it. Please send him to my shop as soon as possible before he hurts himself or another student.” After a few minutes of Rita Skeeter asking the three champions questions and a solid thirty minutes where they were Shepherded around into different positions for pictures the three champions were released and McGonagall and olivander left in the direction of her office along side madame Maxime and headmaster Oblask.

After that time had a disobliging habit of being incomprehensibly fast and slow at the same time. Harry's nerves began to fray more and more quickly as the days passed and no reassurances Hermione said to him made him feel better. Some days flew past and some dragged by both occurrences were marked with studying and practicing and researching until Harry was called out to the grounds. Harry, Fluer and Viktor on the way down early to beat the crown as they passed Hagrid's hut where they talked amicably and speculated why they were being gathered.

When they made it around a copse of trees that hides the quidditch stadium from view of the school they saw that the front portion had been hidden behind gigantic purple curtains easily as tall as the stadium itself at the top half of the curtains were three extremely large mirrors floating in the sky. At the bottom of this strange display stood ludo bagman and to Harry's great surprise and instantly recognizable fiery headed man and Ron's brother, Percy Weasley. Percy waved excitedly as he saw Harry.

“Harry! It's marvelous to see you again!” They shook hands harry smirking at Percy's persistent pompous nature as he shook hands with Fluer and Viktor.

“Hello, Percy, I thought you were working with your dad?” Asked Harry, cocking his head to the side.

“And so I was, but with the department for international magical cooperation being so busy; the current director couldn't step away from his duties, so I guess me being the son of a respected senior in the ministry and rather junior myself I was asked to come here and represent the ministry. I think if I do well enough I might be able to wrangle a promotion out of it, and it does seem fun with all these events so I agreed.” Percy responded smiling.

“ei! Ut's much better here than in the office. Much more fun than paperwork.” Laughed Ludo Bagman. “Speaking of fun, wait till you see what we have for you today. This is a competition that will give one of you an edge in the first task but you'll have to wait till the rest of the students get here to find out more.” Ludo laughed and spoke merrily, seeming to be in a much better mood than he was the night they drew the champions names. Harry wanted to ask more but couldn't decide how to without seeming nosey.

It wasn't much longer than the rest of the schools arrived and began flooding then stands and ludo took to the stand in front of the three champions and the leaders of the schools each waving at the cheering crowd genially.“Today folks we have a very fun event to witness, this challenge will test the champion's athleticism, among other things.” With a wave of Ludo Bagman's wand the massive purple curtains fell away to reveal a five story tall wooden lattice of poles, beams, platforms, tunnels and gaps that could only be jumped across this lattice started in two directions but as it climbed higher the two paths joined and at the top of the pinnacle sat a gleaming golden ring about the same size as Harry’s head.

“Our champions will need to move through this obstacle course, retrieve the large metal ring and descend the structure; the contest ends when the champion holding the ring reaches the ground.”

‘Great.” Harry thought. “Ill be dodging those two and trying not to break my neck the whole time.”

The three mirrors above the course will provide a first hand view of our contestants via a special helmet they will be wearing.” He gestures to three regular black foam helmets used in karate studios with a small mirror stuck to the forehead.

Harry scanned the crowd and within a few scenes found Hermione's eyes. She yelled so loud that he could hear it despite the multitude of other students cheering. “Go Harry! You have this one in the bag!” She sat down and turned red when everyone around her turned and laughed at her exuberance.

“And with that, we'll start on three.”

After a three second count Harry headed for the left route while Krum and Fluer went went right. Harry ran into the wooden obstacles at full speed jumping over waist high beams squeezing between pillars ducking and even crawling under barriers looking for means to ascend to the next level. He almost ran directly into the back wall of the course when looking around for a path when he spotted it. There was no way for him to see it going forward but when looking back he saw the obstacles themselves formed a broken stairway up the next course.

He tried to look through the maze to find Fleur and Victor's progress but could see nothing through the tangles of wooden beams and platforms. Harry used various sized pillars and cross beams to climb to the first step of the path he saw. In front of him was a massive gap leading to the next step which was a platform six feet off the ground and one foot wide. If he were older, and taller it would be an easier jump as it was though, when he sprang forth with all his might his feet missed entirely and he clung to the platform with his hands after smacking his sternum against the wood, he cursed his short legs as he lost a few seconds hoisting himself up. That's when Bagman's voice made it through his distraction only now did he realize Bagman had been commentating on their progress in colorful but vague ways.

“Our oldest champion has just reached the second tier having narrowly avoided Miss Delacour's attempts to waylay him yet again.”

Hearing this, Harry made it to his feet in record time; jumped, hopped, climbed and clambered his way to the second tier at the same time Fleur did on the other side. At least according to Bagman with the raucous cheers of approval from the crowd.

Running forward he stepped over the large gaps and lunged over the waist high barrier once more blocking his way, nearly falling back to the first course but used his hands to push himself a few inches forward when he saw the ledge he was expecting wasn't there. A few feet and challenges later he could see Krum climbing his way up to the third tier of the challenge and a wicked little thought came to mind.

“Would be a shame if he slipped” Harry thought before pulling out his wand and casting what was probably the longest ranged “Tergio!” Ever cast. Harry's aim was true and the next hand hold Krum reached for became slick with soap which traveled down causing every piece of wood beneath it to be slippery as well and just as Harry planned Krum fell with a startled “eep!” Harry laughing carried on as he too reached the vertical climbing wall separating the third and fourth tiers and a volley of tergio spells hit the wall in front of him wicked laughter could be heard from Krum and Fleur.

“Hmpf!” harry thought. “Well then, Diffindo!” Harry cast several severing charms and then several more levitation charms, and as Fleur and Krum fought their way up a vertical wall Harry casually walked up his floating staircase chuckling as he heard the two older teens trash talking in broken English.

Just as he crested the vertical wall he heard Bagman say “and with mister Potter's Ingenious use of the levitation charm all of our competitors are on the 4th and final level.” This caused Harry to look across the aisle obviously made to be a straight sprint to the finish.

“Tergio!” Harry cast at a sprinting Krum.

“Not again Potter you vill have to try harder than-”

“Incarcerus!” Two streams of ropes shot out of Harry's wand as he envisioned both Fleur and Victor being trapped, only Krum was caught out though as Fleur had a longer time to react being farther behind and thus was able to blast the ropes with singing fire . Krum however was bound tightly in rope and fell squirming trying to cast a charm to free himself, rather than getting closer to take the older teens wand by hand he cast “expelliarmus!” and knocked Krum out of the running.

Harry and Fluer took opposite ends of the staircase leading to their prize, but Harry was faster by a hair and he grabbed the golden ring before diving, not backwards, but sideways off the staircase entirely. He landed hard and badly, something in at least one of his ankles cracked. Just before Fluer caught him he did the only thing he could imagine would work and cast a levitation charm once more but this time on the bound body of Krum then he pulled the floating Krum and himself over the edge of the obstacle course and into open air grabbing the rope around Krum and severing the magically joined rope before falling freely the levitation charm slowing Krums spin and thus his decent so he would not hurt himself much more on impact.

He hoped.

As he fell he looked up only to see a fully feathered harpy soaring after him fire flowing from her taloned feet. The streaming fire went out right before she grabbed him or rather the golden ring he held in his extended hand he hit the ground without injury but Fleur took the golden ring and landed safe and the cheers of the Beauxbatons students, few as they were, was deafening.

Harry lay d
Flat on the ground, not willing to put any weight on either of his ankles and slowly lowered Krum from his floating perch to the ground.

“Vell that vas embarrassink.” The older boy said with much chagrin. “Beaten by one so young.”

“Don't be embarrassed Victor, I do have a bit of experience in this kind of stuff,” this brought a confused look in Krums eye. “not to mention I'm about four times more powerful than you are magically.”

“There is no way! So young?” He said plopping down to the ground breathing hard while the celebration went on around them. “Zat vas very daring potter jumping over ze ledge.”

Harry laughed. “I have my moments, no doubt I'll pay for it later.”

“And there we have it folks with a glorious and hair raising finale Fluer Delacour has beaten our challenge and wins the advantage. We will be seeing you all at the first task. Halloween morning.” Bagman's voice called over the crowd and Harry could see a small crowd of people heading towards Victor and him lead by madame pomfrey who upon reaching them started with Krum, cast a few inaudible charms and sent the seeker on his way then she turned to him. The look on her face now was thunderous; he looked around to McGonagall, Hermione, Andromeda and Sirius who all matched her expression. Heaving a sigh he sat in for another hour's long tongue lashing about how dangerous and reckless he is. Madame Pomfrey didn't even begin to heal him until Hermione was done with her three hour long tirade leading with what if, where for's, how's and explicit detail about how far back his ancestors must have regularly mated with ogres for him to turn out to be so monumentally thick headed.

While he knew she could mend almost any injury in seconds, Madame Pomfrey drew the treatment out for as long as she possibly could “to ensure all the frequent damage is healed.” An hour into him sitting patiently while Andromeda and Sirius both took turns berating him he had grown quite over being chastised, and lost his temper.

“Honestly Harry jumping over a ledge when you already shattered your ankle! Your mother would have been-” shouted Sirius being cut off by a wave of power shot out by Harry whose face had grown increasingly sour by Sirius' various mentions of the parents he never got to meet.

“Enough!” Harry shouted as the magical energy rushed out of him and judging by the adults reaction caused his eyes to glow that caustic green he saw every time he looked in a mirror when channeling his core.

“Harry we are onl-” Andromeda said.

“I said that's enough! I've heard enough and had enough from all of you. Whether you believe it or not I do plan out my actions. And whether you like it or not I am not your responsibility to chastise, I allow you to only because I respect you and I know you have the best intentions but I will not stand here and be lectured like you have any actual authority over me.” He felt guilty as soon as he said the words his eyes flashing across the two adults and then to Hermione who's eyes were shining.

“Harry, for one thing I do have authority over you.” Sirius said in a not serious voice.

“Well, you feel free to give me as many detentions you think appropriate, but I'll challenge them and I'll win, what I did was no more or less dangerous than any maneuver performed in quidditc.” When Harry said this it seemed to bring Sirius up somewhat short.

“Err, and two your not standing harry your laying down giving those ankles of yours a rest.” His god father said obviously trying to regain the flow of his joke.

“Hermione-” harry said as he looked at her her tears flowing freely again.

“Save it harry, I know I dont have any right to yell at you or chastise you you dont have to remind me of my pla-”

Harry's eyes narrowed and she seemed to be struck silent. “You have more right to chastise me than anyone currently living in this world, im sorry I scared you, im sorry I scared all of you, but I am not sorry of my actions if Smara has taught me one thing since we've met it's not to dither, in a situation I have two choices. Either there is or isn't an action I can take to improve a situation if there is I do it and if not I don't; I don't go out looking for danger but if I decide on an action I throw my whole self into it. It's how I am.

And I apologize that what I might choose to do might scare you and you can yell at me for being an idiot all you want but dont expect me to be sorry I did what I thought best.”

Hermione and the other two nodded although the adults seemed to agree with ill humor. The rest of the afternoon was filled with Sirius, Andromeda and Hermione complimenting Harry's wand work and forgetting each other's frustrations. Everything was normal until dinner harry Hermione and Sirius arrived late as madame pomfrey chose to torture harry with more scans and tests and foul tasting medicine before letting him go. When they arrived at the great hall it was abuzz with the talk over every student in the hall including those of the Beauxbatons and the Durmstrang delegations even the teachers at the high table were gossiping back and forth and for one no eye came to look at Harry as he entered the hall.

Harry looked to Sirius whose face was scrunched with concern; he looked down to Harry before nodding and heading off, while Harry and Hermione went to the Gryffindor table where Ron, Daphne and Tracy were waiting.

“Whats going on?” Harry asked as they sat down.

Daphne handed over an emergency issue of the evening prophet.

“ Six countries secede from ICW.

EMERGENCY WARNING

ALL ICW COUNTRIES PLACED ON HIGH ALERT

This morning at the international confederation of wizards conference the representatives of Russia, Ukraine, Germany, Belarus, Bosnia and Croatia stood before the other gathered representatives and announced an immediate secession from the international treaty.

“From this day forth we will no longer be bound into a volunteer prison by this treaty, we will from now on work to join our nations with the nonmagical world. We will join the light and no longer hide in the shadows like rats, we magicals are the stewards of this world and we do it a disservice by limiting magical creatures' populations And our own populations.” spoke the German chancellor of magic Frederick Bauer.

Many people spoke vehemently against this event but others like the werewolves friendly countries of Sweden and Finland spoke in favor and the representatives of those countries were seen leaving with Bauer's coalition what this means and the possible dangers of this fracture are yet to be revealed.

The supreme Mugwump of the ICW Mister Huang chu of China had this to say as the meeting was adorned for the day. “These are disturbing events we have witnessed here today. It might be necessary for the first time in our history to call upon the mutual defense treaty and bring these violations in order.

The minister of magic Cornelius fudge has assured the prophet that these events will have no effect on the running of Britain's magical population.”

Harry and Hermione finished reading and looked at each other and then the table and one worry was in his eyes just like the rest of the students who read the paper.

War.

Chapter Text

“So Fleur." Harry said, breaking the silence of their study session in the Hogwarts library. “What was that “advantage” from the last trial.”

Fleur had been looking increasingly more pale and panicked as Halloween approached. “Oh iit was a riddle but don't think I will tell you what I found out, zis is a competition and I aim to win it.”

“Just as well I suppose, if I found out what it is, not that I don't think I already know, but if I did know I’de feel honor bound to inform Krum and even up the odds some.” Harry shrugged.

“My point ‘arry, why would I give up my advantage?” Fluer laughed.

“I am rather excited to see the first task, terrified you or Harry will get hurt mind you, but still excited and I-” Hermione was cut off by a small hoard of giggling girls all dressed in Bulgarian quidditch merchandise including an older Hufflepuff with a scarf wrapped over her robes like a sash it clashed horrificly with her black and yellow Hogwarts robes. This giggling meant the quidditch star was around as the girls usually stalked the seeker anywhere he went. Today it seemed he was doing what Harry and Fleur decided to do and check out books on dangerous creatures related to fire as he carried two thin books over to their table and sat at the seat Ron had vacated little more than ten minutes before after Fleur and Hermione told him off for complaining so much about extra study.

The young man scowled at the stack of books surrounding them. “I should have known to come here directly when I saw you here. All other useful books were out of place, do you mind if I read a book you aren't using?” The Bulgarian seeker asked his fellow champions. After he received permission and grabbed one they spent ten minutes in relative silence before a flash and click drew them out of their reading. Looking up, Harry saw Rita Skeeter and her photographer companion standing beside the librarian, Madame Pence.

“The three champions, preparing together. Lovely, the public will just eat that right up won't they Bozo?” The man did not respond but he did raise his camera and snap another picture.

The librarian went mad smacking the cameraman with a ruler she always carried, usually used to ensure her bookshelves were straight but it wasn't unseen or unknown for her to use the ruler in such a way, usually against older students who knew better than to mess about in the library "Don't you spark that infernal contraption near my books! These tomes have enough smoke damage from fool students, and they. don't. need. the help. of your. rancid. purple. haze! in my library!” She smacked the cameraman with each word as he bolted from the room being chased by madame Pence leaving the reporter and kids staring after them.

“Well I wanted an interview with each champion before the task on Halloween, our readers are clamoring to read more about each of you!” She spoke brightly but her shrewd eyes flicked to Harry as she finished her sentence.

He should have foreseen that the public would be reeling to know more about “lthe-boy-who-lived.” He let out a deep and long sigh. “Fine, but I want the headmistress in attendance. I may not read the papers much, but my aunt and uncle have warned me, about you, in particular Miss Skeeter.”

The reporter beamed as the other two champions acquiesced to her request as well. “Well then, why don't you go to the head office and wait for me there Harry while I get these two.”

Two hours later the reporter entered McGonagall's office without so much as a knock to not only find McGonagall and Harry waiting, but also Sirius, Remus, Andromeda and Hermione all arrayed around Harry in a protective half circle with Hermione at his right hand and Smara coiled on his shoulders. She seemed to be brought up short by this intimidating Introduction. “Good The interview that followed was probably more stunted and short than the reporter would have liked as everytime Skeeter brought up something that wasn't school or tournament related one of his guests would interrupt and keep the questions on topic. One topic they couldn't argue against was Smara and her history and her exact nature.

“Well how about your snake companion there Harry? The ministry paper work was sealed to everyone not high up in the DOM, DMLE, or the minister himself, the public has the right to know what is in their kids' school especially with the dangerous display we saw in the opening ceremony.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at the insinuation that Smara would attack students. “Smara is a queen among serpents, a Basilisk.” Harry knew not a lot of people knew too much about the species but the shriek of terror and the reporter clapping her hands over her eyes was something he had expected. “Don't worry, she's relatively harmless. She's been looking at you this whole time and you're still alive. From what I've seen basilisks are so rare their exact nature is a mystery while her stare is deadly. It is ONLY if she wants it to be so don't behave like that, it irritates her.”

A round of hissing filling the room. And Harry translated. “I am only as dangerous as your average qualified wizard reporter skeeter, only when I need to be.”

“She speaks does she?” The reporter said sounding doubtful causing Smara to hiss in distaste and causing Skeeter to look at Harry waiting for a translation which in turn caused Harry to roll his eyes and he and Hermione let out a well practiced monotone.

“Sometimes a hiss is just a hiss.” which made the other adults in the room laugh as they heard that sentence at least once a day every time Smara decided to join Harry in class or for dinner.

“Well what is Smaras history then?”

____________________________________

Skeeters report on “the serpent queen of Hogwarts” came out two days later giving details of Smara's life, anecdotes from students about the deadly snake in their midst including quotes from several slytherins detailing the pride they feel with having what was essentially the daughter of their founder and several students stories of the odd sign language she had developed to speak with those who could not hear her voice.

The report of the three champions came out four days before the first task. But the story that caused Harry the most embarrassment and trouble came out the day after Smara’s article.

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table with Hermione and Ron sipping his morning tea when a rolled up copy of teen witch weekly fell onto his plate confusing him because he had never even touched the magazine let alone gave them an interview. His confusion lasted until he saw the headline on the cover.

“The boy who loves, a special report by Rita Skeeter. See page 4.”

“By all the gods above and below what now?” Begged Harry as he thumped to the correct page Hermione was reading over his shoulder and Ron pulled Harry halfway across the table so he could read as well.

“Dear readers, I have some Saucy updates on the personal life of our favorite young lord, the-boy-who-lived, himself Harry Potter.

I, special correspondent Rita Skeeter, can personally tell you after visiting Hogwarts and seeing the validity of several rumors with my own eyes and asking students in the know. that our young hero has found love at Hogwarts.

It has been reported to me by one Collin Creevey of Gryffindor house a year below Harry, that he is rarely seen outside of the company of one Hermione Granger she is a pretty muggle born girl with extremely curly hair and I am told by slytherin fourth year Tracy Davis she “has more than half the staff.” Her magical power level has never been recorded in ministry archives but her reported wits and what the professors told me of her developing skills, young Miss Granger could well fill the shoes of the last “cleverest witch of the age” Lily Evans who of course became Lilly Potter after marriage.

Can this young love last?

Can a muggleborn truly love the most beloved boy in our nation?

Could this be the future power couple of our world?

I intend to dig up the answers to these questions and others as the triwizard tournament (page 16) continues.”

Harry immediately looked up to see Hermione's reaction. And she looked both scared and affronted.

“Well this is just…. Just… ridiculous. What got in that woman's head that Harry would even consider dating me. I mean, sure we are best friends but that you would waste your time on me when people like daph-” she began to rant but Harry cut her off.

“I don't think the possibility of dating you is ridiculous Hermione.” Harry interrupted her her a questioning tone, eyes scrunched in confusion. “Ive never really thought of dating anyone, not really but-” he blushed deeply and looked away. “Its not ridiculous.”

Ron was looking between the two and turning an ever deeper shade of red. That is before Tracy came up and sat next to him immediately distract h

“Oh. Oh, my I. So- so what else does the magazine say?” Hermione said obviously trying to change the subject. Harry further furrowed hisnbrow at his friend as Daphne came to sit beside Fleur and the group fell to discussing the gossip rag that is “witch weekly” patently ignoring Draco Malfoy's foolish attempts at teasing Harry by making kissing noises across the hall.

____________________________________

As the final days before the first task fell behind him Harry along with the other three champions fell into blind panic, the anticipation of this dangerous and difficult task consuming them.

Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room late the night before the first task, blindly flipping through "Dangerous Tales of Magical Daring," eyes wide and hyperventilating, when a red ball of light shot from a staircase and hit him solidly on the back. Something he normally would have been able to dodge had gone unnoticed in his state, and Harry slumped bonelessly to the table.

Two shadowy forms came closer out of the shadows and hoisted Harry up the boy's staircase as he faded into oblivion. His last thought was that, hopefully, he would get some sleep.

“Harry dreamed of shadowy monsters chasing him into the Dursley's old house and into the cupboard under the stairs. And as he locked the door to keep them out and they bashed and banged on the thin walls, a warm safe feeling enveloped him and a soft humming filled his mind and his dream with a soft pink glow, the light and warmth of the ghostly tune seemed to frighten the monsters away and for the rest of the night the gentle melody rocked him into a deep restful slumber and when dawns first rays shown into the room, through the gap in the curtains of his four poster and into his eyes, he woke rested and ready for the day knowing he was as prepared as he could possibly be. But without the odd and forgotten melody filling his mind everything around him seemed cold and distant. A feeling that slowly faded as he woke up more and went about his morning routine. Donning his school robes and allowing his ever-present deadly serpent to drape herself wherever she pleased, he descended the stairs, leaving the boys already abandoned dormitory.

Waiting for him in the Gryffindor common room was Hermione, Ron and his elder twin brothers who all greeted him warmly Hermione threaded an arm through his and all but drug him down through the castle.

“Come on Harry, we need to get you down to breakfast. You know the champions leave for the task before anyone else and it starts in a little under two hours. That's hardly any time for you to eat any type of breakfast before marking your way there with the others!”

“Have you worked out a strategy, Harry? Know anything we don't?” Asked Fred, or George.

“Errrr yea? I've got a strategy, well a few really. I think I've whittled down what the task is but I'm not going to say as I have absolutely no evidence.” Harry spent a good 15 minutes trying to eat some toast but gave up the closer the time cake the more his stomach knotted up until the head mistress stood and announced.

“Champions! It is time we make our way down to the tent to prepare you for what is to come!” She then walked to Harry and gestured smoothly for him to follow her, stepping back and allowing him to say his goodbyes.

“Well, I guess I'll see everyone after. Hermione-” he looked to his best friend who wordlessly stood up to accompany him causing him to smile. “You don't have to do that. I was just saying, asking really. Wish me luck?”

Hermione actually giggled a rare enough action indeed but even more odd given the stress of the situation. The sound seemed to lighten his nerves. Suddenly a thought occurred to him.

“Errr, headmistress? I'm not allowed to take Smara with me, am I?”

"You're allowed to take only your wand, mister Potter. We did not have a familiar or giant ancient serpent weighing ceremony.”

“Err, right. I figured as much.” Harry said, smiling and allowing Smara who was spitting mad about leaving him alone in such a situation to pass onto Hermione's shoulders, shrinking slightly as she did. As the three people walked down McGonagall asked them specifics of their education that she missed as she often focused on the entire school she especially asked about transfiguration and how they liked the subject and if Harry had read the book she had given him.

“Yes professor I have, though I can't sit still long enough to do the meditation it describes.”

“Ahh well keep it up often, meditation has many uses even outside of magic, and as they say practice makes perfect.” She said, as they walked past Hagrid's cabin and in sight of a new stadium built into the ground at the floor of the valley Hogwarts was nestled in.

With a chain roof.

A chain roof that sprawled into a great oval 300 feet at its widest and 500 at its longest. The chain itself to Harry's estimation was five inches thick and made of a black shiny material that seemed to eat sunlight. Stands large enough to hold several hundred people stood around and somewhat over the chained chasm of unknown depth.

As the group approached a large tent at the rear of the stadium they could hear the chatter of an unknowable amount of people and Harry spotted the occasional flash of a camera from within.

“Great, more publicity.” Harry groused.

“Don't act like you didn't know this would happen,you're famous Harry! And this tournament is famous. I'd have been really surprised if this wasn't covered by swarms of journalists.” Hermione said conjoling Harry.

“I know that” Harry spoke in an exasperated tone he could barely identify as his own voice. “That doesn't mean I like it.”

“Well mister Potter get used to it, we are here” the headmistress said as she pushed the entrance flap aside and a string of clicks and flashes went off as several cameras snapped photos of their arrival.

“ Ahh! Good O'! "said mister Bagman from the front of the medium sized crowd of what Harry assumed to be foreign and domestic businessmen and politicians. “With our last champion's arrival we can begin with the opening ceremony and the introduction to the first task. Due to Miss Delacour's advantage I suspect she's already aware of most of what I'm about to say and has properly prepared, but, first, the opening ceremony which will commence when the rest of the school and guests have arrived and seated themselves.”

The room milled about for the next hour making pointless attempts at chatting with each champion as none of the three youngsters responded to any attempt too far into their nerves to respond to any type of provocation. In fact the only thing Harry could remember doing for the hour was squeezing Hermione's hand when she laced her fingers with his at some point. He normally would have been embarrassed about his sweaty hands but there was nothing that could derail his nerves; this was the closest he had ever come to having a panic attack and not actually sinking into one the only thing that broke Harry from his state of mild panic was the sound of a reedy dull voice greeting the crowd.

“Good day ladies and gentlemen, witches and warlocks, students, guests and above all friends. We stand here on a historic day, the day of the first task of a reimagined, reworked and redone triwizard tournament. This tournament hasn't been held in almost three centuries and it was only through the help of my predecessor Barty Crouch, the head for the department of games and sports ludo bagman and each of the now five headmasters Minerva McGonagall replacing Albus Dumbledore and commandant oblast replacing Igor karkaroff after they both were revealed as criminals and the later arrested and Albus fled to parts unknown.What dangers might have been we will never know.

My counterparts worked tirelessly to make sure this tournament is as difficult and dangerous as it can be without risking permanent injury or worse. That being said, I'll let Ludo start his bit; he is very obviously about to burst with excitement.” This ministry wizard, obviously the new head of department for the office of international magical cooperation, spoke in a dry tone but with deeply buried traces of humor.

Harry then watched from behind the flap of the tent as Bagman came to the center of the stage gesticulating wildly to the cheers of the crowd the man's blonde hair went horribly with the bright yellow and black of his old wasp robes which he was wearing yet again despite them hardly fitting anymore.

“Good O’ everyone and welcome to the first task of the triwizard tournament. Today we will be testing our champions strength, will, knowledge, determination and how they deal with surprises and stress. They will face their task one after the other and be judged out of 100.

When I call their names out, the champions will come and draw a model of what they will be facing as there are different varieties. Now…”

A spell was shot at the tent flap and deafened all noise coming from outside the tent; the next bit of speech was obviously meant for the audience alone.

As Harry waited he turned his attention to the others in the room. The head masters had left to fulfill their part in the opening ceremony leaving Victor, Fluer, Harry and Hermione alone, Hermione by all the custom rather than rules was not supposed to be in the champions tent but he was glad for her company it stopped him pacing and worrying at his own anxiety like a dry old bone. Victor was pacing back and forth while Fleur was chewing on her perfect nails. Hernione was looking at him, worry showing deep in her eyes.

“You're not supposed to be here, in this tent I mean.” Harry said quietly.

“I know, I'll leave and find a seat when your name is called or if they force me but I will not leave you until then Harry.” His best friend smiled at him. Which caused him to smile.

Harry was about to say something to Fleur when “Victor Krum!.” Was called by Bagman and the words died in his throat replaced by a quick and stunted “Good luck victor.” From both Harry and Fluer. The famous seeker stopped and turned back to them, nodded and left the tent letting in a burst of sound before the tent flap settled and cut off the sound of the audience once again.

“Merde! I wish they would hurry, this waiting is going to make me go grey!” Fleur swore several more French expletives as they waited for the next name to be called. Thirty minutes had already elapsed but Harry suspected that a portion of that time was the ministry getting whatever they were facing into the arena. After another fifteen or twenty minutes the tent flap was drawn back letting in a cheer of KRUM, KRUM, KRUM! and Bagman's voice calling Fleur Delcour!”

Fleur looked at her two young friends worried for what was to come yet she squared her shoulders and marched from the tent barely acknowledging the “bon chance!” Hermione threw her way. The tent flap closed and deafened the silent room.

“Go Hermione.” Harry choked out. “Go find a seat to watch.”

“I am not leaving you right now Harry james-”

Yes you are.” Harry said with finality. “Go sit with Ron. Make sure he isn't causing problems.”

“But Harry-”

“No Hermione! Please go sit with ron ill be fine.” Smara for the first time in a long while raised her head and the two teens fell silent, she raised her eyes to stare intently into Hermione's and something must have passed between them, that silent female conversation that the two were so good at. His friend deflated, sagging her shoulders and dropping her head and raising her arm which smara then coiled around and slithered up the girls shoulders as she stepped away from him he could see a bright film cover her eyes.

“Little one, remember to call me if you have need, you are allowed your wand but your wand will allow you to get what you need when you need it. Be careful and if your opponents wish to fight, strike first, and swiftly.”

Harry locked his head to the side as he watched the two slide out of the rear of the tent. In all truth Harry had no plan. He couldn't form one without the information of what he was facing so he wouldn't be sure what to prepare for other than the creature he would be facing had something to do with fire. But Smara's statement put a new idea in his head.

He could get what he needed from his wand. The only question is what would he need?

Instead of sitting and panicking Harry decided to take McGonagall's advice and try to meditate as he did almost every night before sleep as he learned in his animagus instruction book. He kneeled on the ground, knees pressed into the floor sitting on his heels, closing his eyes and counting in his breaths in and out slowly and measured until the numbers in his mind ceased to matter to him and soon faded from necessity. He soon found himself sunk into his mindscape with a familiar lurking shadow following the traces of his thoughts, a hidden predator sliding through the shades and valleys of his mind. A familiar if slightly mysterious presence that helped calm his racing mind. After an unknown, unfelt, and unacknowledged amount of time he heard almost distantly.

“HARRY POTTER!”

this was it the moment of his doom, what was he thinking getting mixed up in this tournament, he was barely 14 what did he know, what could he do that could see him not d-

“No!” Harry told himself, shaking away the fear that shot into his mind as he took his first steps toward the tent flap.
Pulling it aside he was blasted with bright, blinded sunlight and the deafening sound of a cheering and somewhat booing crowd. The slytherins would never be deterred from their animosity toward him. As his eyes adjusted to the shining October sun he saw the stadium descend in front of him towards the rim of the arena that dropped an unknown amount of feet to the bottom and he could see a number of rocky platforms of different heights, lengths and shapes as they descended gradually to the floor or center of the arena. The stands that surrounded the sunken arena at least from what Harry could see were a riot of colors from small sections of red and silvery Grey where the foreign schools resided to a black guest/press stand. And a wide area of red, green, yellow, and blue chairs in a nearly indecent display of clashing colors in a checkerboard sequence. Add on the cheering jumping gesticulating crowd flashing the riot of colors in ever increasing intervals Harry had to restrain himself from closing his eyes because of the dizzying effect.

Harry marched his way to Bagman on shaking legs and presented himself before the two ministry officials and the three headmasters.

“Good day Harry, are you ready?” Bagman said brightly. We have the bag here, why don't you reach in and take the model.

As Harry reached in and pushed all the way to his elbow fumbling around the edges of the bag and till he came across a figure small and sharp with a rough scaled texture and grasping it the Wrigley and twisted and tried its beams to free itself from his grip and he pulled out the model opening his closed hand to reveal not a dragon like he had feared with the habit of lunacy that the wizarding world tended to share. The small model was of a creature unknown to Harry. It was an athletic and frightening creature a dragon, a wolf, a leopard all rolled into one frightening it had long fangs peaking out of a rounded cat like head the rested on a deep barrel chested wolf like body its paws had long sharp claws and were splayed out and almost human like in the way to creature flexed its paws. Its tail was like an iron whip. The creature was covered from the tip of its nose to the end of its tail in cool steel colored scales.

“It seems our champion has drawn the legendary Volacanis Lupis, more commonly known as the hell hound. These amazing and volatile creatures live in deep subterranean caverns and the magma chambers of volcanoes all around the world. First discovered by Goblin explorers in the deep reaches of mount Vesuvius. These amazing animals can eat everything from meat to stone and steel and even gemstones.

With that said I believe our magical guests will need their habitat spruce up a tad if you would Headmistress McGonagall?” Bagman shouted an explanation to the crowd joyfully as McGonagall stepped up and began waving her wand. Through a long and complex spell Harry could barely follow the words of the floor of the arena and as many as Arthur of the rock columns and formations melted into red hot magma just as three large dog sized animals dropped from an opening in the wall leaping straight into the lava completely unafraid the only thing about the creatures he could see was the largest one was the exact color of an amethyst.

“Harry?” Bagman's voice broke Harry's concentration on the beasts. “ Your goal will be to collect a golden puzzle.box that will be traveling around the arena, don't worry it will not be anywhere near as fast as a snitch. In a dead sprint you'd catch it in seconds. You may use any NON LETHAL way to achieve this, killing your opponents will get points deducted. Do you understand all that Harry? You can start at the blast of the cannon. And-”

BOOM!

“Ehhh right well on you go then.” And Bagman clapped Harry on the back and down he fell screaming throwing his hands out to attempt to brace for the impact of a more than a 200 foot fall.