Disclaimer:

I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary:

Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta

Pass

by tannne

AN:

Another long chapter (23 pages long). I'll try to get the 3rd part of Grimmauld Place up later tonight.

– –

Chapter 13

Around 2pm, Molly Weasley popped in, informing the group that she had a late lunch ready and they all made their way down the stairs and into the kitchen where a more humble table than the extravagant one Harry had seen in the dining room, was set up and the group had their meal there.

The mood was still fairly subdued and Ron still seemed to be brooding from their earlier earth-shattering discussion on Dumbledore. Mrs. Weasley remarked on it, but only got a grunt in return. Seeing no signs of getting an answer to her inquiries, she simply sighed and shrugged, refocusing on the meal. Sirius and Remus joined them for the meal, but didn't say much. Interactions with Sirius seem obviously strained between he and Mrs. Weasley, but their interactions were generally genial.

The meal ended, Remus and Sirius quickly disappeared back upstairs, and the young Gryffindors returned to the drawing room on the second floor. The Weasley's all almost instantly took seats around the front of the room but Harry slowly walked around the space examining it and taking it all in. The whole room was filled with delicious dark taint but there was a glass case along the far back wall that seemed especially potent. He opened it up and found that it was empty and frowned in disappointment.

"What was in here?" he asked as Hermione came to stand behind him.

"Oh, it was quite an assortment of items. Mrs. Weasley had us just throw it all out. We couldn't identify much of any of it, but she was sure it was all Dark or cursed in some way."

"And she just tosses it all out, just because she thinks the stuff

could be Dark?" Harry asked with incredulity and annoyance clear in his voice. "That stuff could have been valuable or rare. They could have had historical value! Or been powerful, rare, magical artifacts!"

"Well...

yes, but they were all

Dark..." Hermione said, hesitantly, giving Harry a cautious look before glancing back at the other Weasley's on the opposite side of the room.

"And

all things Dark

should be eradicated

just because

they're Dark," Harry said with a sarcastic sneer. His voice was low and directed right at Hermione so the others wouldn't hear. Hermione glanced back at the others once more, all still seated towards the opposite side of the room, and saw that none of them were paying them any attention.

She turned back to Harry. "I...

may

have saved some of it," she whispered quietly.

Harry looked at her with legitimate surprise. "You did?" he asked.

Hermione pulled her lower lip between her teeth and gave another cautious glance back at the Weasleys. "I... well, I agree that some of those things looked valuable... not just in a monetary way, of course, but in ahistorical

value

way. The Blacks are one of the oldest magical lines still alive in Britain and there are loads of things in this house that...

while Dark, still have a valid historical value. And some of the magical artifacts looked really fascinating. Also..." she hesitated again before sighing and shaking her head. "The house elf here...Kreacher, he's such a sad sight. I mean, he's gone terribly mad over the years, being in this nasty old house all alone, but it's obvious that he loved his family, even if they were all Dark wizards. He was

so upsetthat we were throwing out all of these Black Family treasures, so I helped him pick out certain objects and we've hidden them in Sirius' brother's room."

"Regulus's room?"

"Right."

Harry nodded his head thoughtfully, making note to go check out Regulus's room as soon as he was able to ditch the ginger-brigade.

He focused back on Hermione and she was still gnawing away at her bottom lip nervously and looked as if she were contemplating something a bit unsettling.

"Is there anything wrong, Hermione?" Harry asks in a gentle voice.

"I... um... Harry, what do you think... what's your opinion on er...

Dark

magic?" she asked hesitantly, while occasionally glancing back towards the Weasley's nervously.

Deep inside, Harry was grinning like a mad man. Outwardly, he took on a look of mild surprise.

Hermione quickly began to backtrack, obviously reading his surprised look in a negative way. "Not the wholeUnforgivables

type of

Dark

magic, of course, but um... just, well the traditions and the er... the beliefs that old Dark Families hold. I mean, it's not all about hating muggles, in fact many of them don't! It's really only the extremists that promote muggle extermination and they've given the rest of the old Dark families a bad name – did you realize that? Most Dark families just follow an isolationist mentality. They don't want to kill all muggles, they just don't want to risk exposure. I really didn't realize all this and I feel so stupid for never having really investigated it before. I just took everything that people said at face value, and

I never do that! I'm so angry at myself for that... I just took people like Malfoy as the example of what all old pure-blood Dark magic families were like and just assumed it meant they were all ignorant bigots who were all about supremacist dogma and muggle-hating, but, it's not all about Dark Lords and torture curses, or entrails-expelling curses. There's this rich cultural heritage that goes back thousands of years, and it's all so fascinating and they just want to protect their history and traditions and are afraid that the magical ministries are going to outlaw everything they hold dear just because they're afraid of all the extremists, and –"

"Hermione!" Harry said rather loudly while holding up his hands and finally getting her to stop, but also drawing a curious look from Ginny across the room. Harry leaned in closer and kept his voice lower. "Do you want to offer me a tour of the house? Sirius really only took me up to the 3rd floor and just described what was in the rest of the house. We could talk somewhere with fewer ears."

Hermione nodded slowly for a moment before her eyes lit up and she let out a small, excited squeak. "Have you seen the library yet?" she asked, enthusiastically. Harry found himself grinning in amusement. Leave it to Hermione to get excited about a library. Despite this, he actually found himself rather curious and honestly evenexcited

about the thought of exploring the library of an ancient Dark family. He wondered if Sirius would let him take some of the books with him? He wouldn't doubt that Tom would absolutely

love

to go sifting through an old Dark wizarding family's library. He had once told Harry about his youth in Hogwarts when he was still a dirt-poor orphan and how he would win books off his rich dorm-mates with card games. They all had family libraries full of old books and had no appreciation for how valuable they were since they had always

just been there.

"No, I haven't seen it yet. How about you take me up there?"

She nodded enthusiastically and led Harry out of the drawing room with a quick word to the others, telling them that she was taking Harry to see the library, which none of the Weasley's seemed at all keen to follow, so none offered.

They climbed the stairs to the third landing and Hermione led Harry directly to the door that Sirius had earlier pointed out led to the library. One step inside and Harry felt his head go a bit fuzzy. There was a ridiculous amount of Dark magic in the air and it was almost inebriating. Harry found himself with a hazy grin plastered across his face for a moment before he got himself under control.

The air was thick with the musty scent of old parchment and ink, and the deep, powerful, taint of Dark magic. There were definitely some nasty books within these walls. The library itself was surprisingly large and Harry realized that it had to have had some sort of space expansion charm because it looked too big to fit within the size of the house as he knew it.

He took several slow steps forward, walking right past Hermione and taking in the impressive space with wide, awed eyes. He walked down several of the rows of bookcases, lightly running his fingertips over the spines of the books, feeling the delicious tingle that would shoot through him with great intensity whenever he brushed against one of the especially

Dark

books – the ones that were likely to curse you if you tried to open them with the wrong intentions. His eyes trailed over the titles aimlessly, and he found he recognized quite a few titles from Tom's library and from references in other books he'd read of Tom's. It was a remarkable library. He wished, desperately, that he could bring Tom here, and wondered if there was some way to maybe sneak 'Nick' in. Maybe at Yule? He certainly wasn't willing to spend his entire winter holiday in this house, but maybe he could visit for Christmas day and talk the Order into letting him bring 'Nick' with him. Would the Weasley's be spending the winter holidays here just like they'd spent the last month of summer?

"So... you don't exactly seem averse to it..." Hermione said, hesitantly, as she observed Harry's reverent gaze at the books – many of which were of a very questionable standing.

Harry turned to refocus on her, trying to recall exactly what she was talking about.

Oh, right...

"Dark magic, you mean?" he asked.

She nodded her head. "I didn't think you'd like it... I mean, Dark-anything is always associated with V-Voldemort and the Death Eaters. I was worried that you'd be instantly biased against it just like –"

"Just like the Weasley's?" Harry finished and Hermione ducked her head and nodded sheepishly. "Well, I can definitely say that I'm more open-minded to it than Ron will ever be. I don't think that the twins would be so close-minded about it though. They may be safe to talk to. Have they been spending any time in here?"

"I don't know," Hermione replied blankly.

"I wouldn't be surprised if they were. They're working on inventions for a joke shop they hope to open after they graduate and I can imagine several tomes in this library would be valuable to them..." Harry's words trailed off as he looked around the comfortable Dark place with a small smile on his face.

Hermione looked around and shivered lightly, frowning at the books. "I guess they would. I haven't seen them here though."

"I imagine they're being discreet. I'm sure Molly would pitch a right fit if she found any of her children reading books from here." Harry said with a chuckle.

Hermione took on an exasperated look and nodded in agreement. "I'm sure you've got that right." She paused and after a moment's hesitation she spoke again, "So why

aren't

you more averse to all this Dark magic stuff? I really would have expected you to be strongly against it..."

Harry shrugged. "I suppose my investigations into Dark affinities and Dark magic really started after I started working on my parselmage abilities last fall. I kept insisting to people that being a parseltongue didn't make me a Dark wizard and getting all uppity and defensive about it but... well, eventually I had to step out of denial-land and admit and come to terms with the fact that parselmagic

is

a form of Dark magic because it's a blood trait gained from being a descendant of Naga – a Dark creature race whose magic is inherently

Dark. But just because it's Dark doesn't mean it's

bad.

Which really got me to open my eyes to the fact that Dark does not equal evil, just like Light doesn't equal good. I mean, look at bloody

Dumbledore. He's the

 

Light Lord, but that certainly doesn't mean that he's the most morally superior man on the planet. Look at what he's done to me? Light and Dark are not the same as good and evil."

Hermione took in his words, nodding her head slowly before offering him a small, and slightly sad smile.

"Nothing is ever truly as simple as it seems when you're a child," Hermione said, sadly. "There's really no such thing as simple black and white."

Harry nodded in agreement and gave her a soft smile.

Harry and Hermione proceeded to talk for the next hour about their blossoming views on Dark magic; magical affinities in general, and the misconceptions propagated about Dark wizarding families and why that would be. Hermione couldn't understand how the old, powerful, Dark wizarding families could be suffering from prejudices when they were supposed to be so powerful, but Harry argued that their 'powerful standing' really was an old misconception; especially in Britain. He argued that the masses, which were mostly neutral in affinity, were the ones with the most power, but

they

were controlled by their fears. Those who desired control and who managed to get themselves into powerful positions had latched onto that fear and expanded upon it;

using

it to grow their own selfish desire for political power.

While Voldemort had fought for power through mostly terrorist acts of revolution, striking out against the established powerbase, others had gained strong footholds of power by manipulating the public to willingly support being oppressed, through fear tactics.

Those in power needed someone to point the finger at. Someone to blame for all the people's woes, and the victim in this case were the Dark wizards the same way a lot of Dark wizards pointed the finger at muggles for all their problems.

Hermione had said that Viktor and his family had said much the same thing and that it really did make a lot sense, even if it was absolutely horrible.

They were just about to draw to a close when Ginny popped her head in, looking for them and talking them into coming back to the drawing room. The three went back down the stairs to find only Ron there. The twins had, apparently, run off to their room to do some more of their secret experiments, and Ron was getting moody and annoying to be around without someone else to act as a buffer (thus, Ginny seeking out Harry and Hermione to save her from her brother's moody wrath.)

The four played a couple games of exploding snap before Harry stood up from the couch, stretched his back and grumbled about needing to stretch his legs. He made another slow trek around the drawing room and came to a stop before the large family tapestry that hung on one wall.

Ginny and Hermione joined him, followed by a reluctant Ron.

"The Black Family tree?" Ginny asked, looking at him curiously.

"Harry, you said your grandmum was a Black?" Hermione asked.

"That's right," Harry said, pointing his hand up to the name 'Dorea Black (Potter); 1920-1977', connected to Charlus Potter, and a thin line to the word 'One Son'.

"Because she was a female Black and married into another family, her son's name isn't included on the tapestry," Harry explained to Hermione who was looking at the tapestry with a bit of confusion. "If you look there –" Harry said, pointing at the line from Cygnus Black and Druella (Rosier) that listed three daughters, Bellatrix, Narcissa, and a burned spot where the third name was blasted off – "You'll notice that it lists the women and their husbands' names, but doesn't list the name of their kids."

Hermione suddenly gasped. "Lucius Malfoy?"

Harry chuckled. "Oh yeah, didn't I mention? I discovered this summer that I'm related to bloody Malfoy." Harry groaned playfully. "Yeah, so Narcissa Black married Lucius Malfoy and had 'One Son'. If you trail the tree back up, Narcissa's father is Cygus Black, whose father is Pollux Black, who's sister was Dorea Black, whose son was James Potter."

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed. "You're related to Malfoy!"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, he and I are cousins. But if you look at this thing you'll see that I'm related to a lot more than just him, although the others are more distant... heck, look here –" Harry walked over to one of the farther branches and pointed at the name 'Lucretia Black' who married Ignatius Prewett. "Prewett – isn't that your mum's maiden name?" Harry asked the two gingers. Ron's eyes went wide. "Merlin's Beard! Mum's aunt Lucretia was a Black?"

"Lucretia Black was Orion Black's sister, and Orion Black was Sirius's dad." Harry said making the two Gingers appear even more stunned.

"So does that make us cousins too?" Ron asked, looking at Harry with shock.

"Well, no... not really. I mean, you said that she was your mum's aunt?"

"Er... right. Ignatius was mum's uncle."

"Then you're not actually descended from her. You're legally related through marriage, but not through blood.You

don't have any Black blood in you, while I do. So,

legally,

we are,

distantly

related through a familial marriage, but not through any shared blood."

"Oh... I see," Ron mumbled still looking confused.

"Besides, even if you

were

descended from her, she was the daughter of Orion Black, who was from a totally different branch of the Black family than the one I'm connected to. Orion Black married Walburga Black and they had Sirius and Regulus. I'm more closely related to the side of the family that Walburga came from. You're related – although, only legally – to the side that Orion came from. See?" Harry said, pointing out on the tree how it all worked.

"Wait," Hermione said suddenly with dawning realization and a slightly pinched face. "Orion

Black

married Walburga

Black? But they were

cousins!"

"If you look closer, they weren't the only Blacks to do it," Harry said with a slightly amused smirk pointing at two other instances on the tree where a Black married a Black. Hermione did not look particularly impressed with this.

"So Harry," Ginny started, "how did you discover all this? You sounded like you already knew, and before you mentioned having already known about your relation to Malfoy."

"Over the summer I did a bunch of genealogy research. Mostly, I was looking up my mum's side, but while I was at it, I wrote to the London Branch of the Wizarding Genealogical Society and requested a copy of the Potter family tree, and after I saw that my grandmum was a Black, I wrote again and requested a copy of the Black family tree, to see if I was actually related to Sirius by blood. Which I am... which is actually pretty brilliant, but not really the point."

"You said you were looking up your mum's side?" Hermione asked.

Harry turned to her with bright eyes. "I was. And I discovered that her maternal great-grandmother was a squib who got disowned from a wizarding pureblood family and ended up having to live her life as a muggle."

Ginny gasped in excitement, Ron looked shocked, and Hermione just gaped at him.

"But... I thought your mum was a muggleborn?" Ron replied with a confused voice.

"From the reading and research I've been doing this summer, I don't think there's really any such thing as a true 'muggleborn'. Any so-called muggleborn is really just the first magical child in several generations of squibs." Harry explained. "There has to be an origin for the magic. It can't just spring up out of nowhere. Pure human's have no magic in them. They have to have blood from a magical source to make them magical; ancestors, even hundreds of generations back, who were magical creatures. Witches and Wizards came to be because humans had children with magical beings like dryads, pouka, nymphs, incubi, succubi, sidhe, harpies, veela, and nagas. My mum descended from a line that had, at some point long ago, bred with naga. It's where my parselmage abilities come from. Not because Voldemort supposedly

gave me some of his powers, like Dumbledore tried to tell me back in second year. I biologically inherited it from my mum's magical ancestors."

Hermione gasped. "You really think so, Harry? But your mum wasn't a parselmouth, was she?"

"No, but I think the magic was still too weak inside her to give her access to her naga bloodtraits. Just standard neutral magic. There was barely enough magic left in her blood just to make her a pretty decent witch, after several generations of breeding with muggles, let alone provide a powerful enough core to tap into her heredity creature magic. But since my dad was a pure-blood with a wide variety of different creature blood in his family tree, it was enough to provide me with a powerful enough core to tap into it. That's my theory anyway."

"But how can you be sure that you mum descended from a family that had naga blood?" Hermione asked.

"I looked them up. The family my ancestor came from were all parselmouths. The last of them died out about fifty years ago, so the family line is gone and dead."

"I wonder if you could legally claim decent from them," Hermione mused.

Harry shrugged. "I doubt it. I think they disowned and disinherited my ancestor the moment they were sure she was a squib. Not that they had anything left to their name that I could inherit anyway. The family died off, penniless, and any family treasures vanished with their deaths. Not that I really care about that. It's just neat knowing where I came from, you know?"

Hermione's eyes were glowing with intrigue and awe and she looked wistfully at the family tree on the wall before suddenly taking on a look of contemplation.

"You should look into your ancestors too, Hermione," Harry said with a gentle, encouraging smile.

She looked at him and nodded. "I think so too... I just don't know where to start."

"Well, like I said last year, for a fee the goblins can perform a blood inheritance test, but that will only tell you if you descend from someone that has an open vault with them. It wouldn't have worked for me since the family I descend from didn't have any money in Gringotts. I've heard of a ritual that's used to generate family trees, like this one –" Harry said, waving his hand at the large Black family tapestry on the wall, "so that it's self-updating and everything. With the proper spells, it will generate the last so-many generations on the tree automatically. I'm not entirely sure what's involved or necessary, but we can look it up. I'd be willing to bet that one of the books in the Black library would detail how it's done."

"Oh, Harry! That would be fantastic!"

– –

The rest of the afternoon was mostly uneventful. Dinner was once again, rather awkward and conversation between Sirius and Mrs. Weasley was clearly strained. Afterwards Harry followed Ron up to their now shared room and Harry removed his trunk from his pocket, tapped his wand on the top and unshrunk it and then shoved it against the foot of the tiny twin-sized bed that would be his for the next two nights. He grimaced at the thought of that before sighing heavily.

Ron opted to return to the drawing room in hopes of drawing the twins into a game of gobstones and Harry told him that he'd probably join them in about twenty minutes or so because he wanted to relax for a bit and sort through his trunk.

As soon as Ron had left and Harry was sure the ginger was back on the 2nd landing and in the drawing room, he pulled his cypress wand out of his trunk, cast an area silencing charm around his shoes, slipped the wand into his inner pocket and made his way out of the room, up the stairs to the 4th landing, and silently down the hall to Regulus' room. He took extra care to be as quiet as possible since Regulus' room was across the hall from Sirius' room, and Sirius and Lupin were both in there. In fact, Harry could hear the muffled sound of the two of them talking through the closed door.

He slipped through the door to Regulus' bedroom and closed it behind him without making a single noise. Before he even turned to face the room he could feel the strong presence of Dark magic in it. Of course the whole house was still saturated with Dark magic, but while Mrs. Weasley had succeeded in ridding the rest of the house of its precious artifacts and heirlooms, Regulus' room clearly still had numerous Dark objects

in it.

Harry turned and took in the room before him. The Slytherin colours of emerald and silver were everywhere, draping the bed, the walls and the windows. The Black family crest was painstakingly painted over the bed, along with its motto 'Toujours Pur'. Beneath this was a collection of yellow newspaper cuttings, all stuck together to make a ragged collage featuring news on various Death Eater attacks and rumors and speculation about Voldemort.

Against the wall to Harry's right was a study desk that was covered messily with papers, books and old quills, all covered in a thick layer of dust. Past that was a chest-high dresser that was covered with an assortment of old relics. It was from this direction that Harry sensed the most powerful of the Dark objects. He took a few steps closer and paused. He scrunched up his face with a mild air of confusion. Something felt...

familiar.

Harry wasn't sure how to put the sensation he felt into words, but something about the magic felt like

home. Which made absolutely no sense at all.

He walked over to the dresser and his hand hovered over the front of it for a moment before it was drawn to the 2nd drawer from the top. He pulled it open and discovered the drawer was filled with Dark treasures. Any clothes that may have once resided in the drawer had been removed to make room for them.

He examined the scattered collection of objects that lay in the drawer. There was a magnificent necklace of opals, a glass eyeball, a pair of rather evil looking carved wooden masks, a rusty spiked instrument of some sort, several ancient-looking rings, some earrings, a broken mirror and...

Harry sucked in a harsh breath as his eyes laid upon the source of the familiar magic that had called him this drawer. It was a silver locket on a long delicate chain. The locket itself featured an ornate jewel-encrusted S on the front, made to look like a snake. He could feel the magic thrumming through the locket in the rhythmic beat of a heart.

Tom's heart...

Harry's hand extended into the drawer, trembling slightly as he neared the object that Tom had once described to him.

Why was it here? Wasn't it supposed to be in some heavily guarded cave somewhere, surrounded by an army of inferi?

Finally his fingers grasped the delicate chain and he pulled it out of the drawer. He lowered the locket into his other palm and suddenly released a gush of breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding.

The locket was cold to the touch, and yet it somehow felt almost warm in his hand. Like that point where something is so cold that it almost feels hot. He could swear he felt the rhythmic beat within it against his hand. The swirling power of the piece of Tom's soul that was trapped within the tiny confines of the silver founder's heirloom was pleasant and soothing. Harry quickly found himself slipping the chain over his head and securing the locket under the front of his robes, hanging down beside his glamor ring that was still on a chain that was currently also around his neck.

The locket was cold against his chest, but the sensation of burning warmth quickly replaced it. It almost felt as if the heartbeat of the locket was in sync with his own. He could almost feel the magic of Tom's soul that was deep within himself, greeting the piece that was in the locket. But perhaps he was just imagining that in his head.

Harry glanced back at the drawer, but anything else of interest that remained within it paled in comparison to what he had just discovered so he closed the drawer and quickly slipped from the room to return to his and Ron's shared room on the second landing. The room was still empty and Harry quickly locked the door. He found himself standing in the center of the room almost frozen with shock. It took him a moment to shake himself of it and sit down on his bed. He closed his eyes, cleared his breathing and called out to Tom through their connection.

–

Voldemort was sitting at the head of the long table in the conference room of Riddle manor. Lucius Malfoy, Giles Vanity, Montgomery King, Clive Selwinn, and Augustus Rookwood were all sitting around him listening as Lucius gave his weekly report. These were the members of his Death Eaters that held high positions within the Ministry of Magic and he called them in at least once a week to report on their work and any new information that was pertinent to their cause. They also gave written reports, but he still preferred to have these meetings face to face since it always gave him a better idea of their real impressions on what was happening then could be conveyed in written reports.

Despite the importance of what was being discussed, he found himself distracted and disinterested. Which was bothersome and annoying. What was most annoying was knowing the reason for his distraction.

He missed Harry.

It was so absurd. Utterly ridiculous. It had been less than one day and he missed the boy. It wasn't as if he wouldn't be back in a few days. And he'd left the manor for nearly this long to go out and run errands or meet with people to work on alliances... He almost huffed out in frustration, but Dark Lords do not huff in front of their followers for no apparent reason. If he huffed in frustration while Lucius was talking the man would likely misinterpret it and think he had done something to displease him. In reality, he was hardly even paying attention to Lucius. His mind kept flitting back to his impromptu confession to Harry upon his departure.

He still wasn't sure what had possessed him to do such a thing. He

knew

he had fallen in love with the boy. He wouldn't deny that, and he knew that Harry knew it too. It was an unspoken understanding.

Harry had said the words to him a few times. Most often during sex. Harry even chanted it from time to time. His favorite was when Harry chanted it in parseltongue in that breathy voice...

He paused in his thoughts to regain control of himself. He nearly smiled. Bloody hell, what would his followers think of him if he let his emotions show on his face with them gathered here?

He let a small scowl slip onto his face before forcing back an impassive mask. It was nearly obscene the effect Harry had on him. Not nearly. It

was

obscene. And yet he had no desire to change anything about it. He just had to get control of himself. Harry would be back in a couple days and with the use of his time-turner, Harry would be able to be here every day and things could continue to progress smoothly.

Voldemort had just succeeded in refocusing his attention on his followers when he felt a familiar intrusion into his mind.

'Tom?'

He blinked but kept his face blank.

'Yes Harry? Is this important, I'm in the middle of a meeting?'

'Important? Yes.

Definitely

important.'

Harry replied and there was something to his tone that caused concern to bubble up in the Dark Lord's chest.

He held his hand up, cutting Lucius off mid-word and causing the other Death Eaters to all look at Voldemort with confusion and hesitation.

"Wait a moment, Lucius, something had just come to my attention." Voldemort said before looking, unfocused away.

'What is it, Harry?'

'You said that Slytherin's locket was one of your horcruxes, right?'

'Yes...'

'And you're positive that it's in some cave somewhere under a mountain of protections?"

'Yes, I'm positive. Harry, wh –"

'Can you think of any reason why it would be in the Black family home, instead?'

'Harry, what are you talking about?'

'It's here, Tom. Or rather, right now, it's around my neck.'

'You must be mistaken –'

"I'm not. It's still a horcrux. The piece of your soul is still inside it and it called me to it. I can feel it inside the locket right now.'

Voldemort felt a wave of mixed emotions roaring through him. Confusion and disbelief was the strongest of them, but anger and even a bit of fear was mixed in with them. How –

HOW –

was it possible for the locket to have been found, let alone moved?

And –

'The Order of the Phoenix... Dumbledore... you don't suppose –?"

'I have no idea, but I almost get the impression that no one realized it was here. Hermione told me that Mrs. Weasley had them all cleaning out the house and they were just throwing out every Dark artifact they found. Hermione and the family house elf had saved some of them and hid them in Regulus' room because the elf wouldn't let anyone in there to clean. It sounded like it would have gotten thrown out with the trash if she hadn't saved it.'

'Regulus' room?'

Voldemort replied before a memory flashed through his mind and he paused.

'Regulus' elf was the one I used to test the protections around locket,'

he recalled, suddenly.

'Was the elf's name Kreacher?'

'I honestly don't know what the little beast's name was. I left it there to die with the inferi.'

'Well what if it didn't stay there and die?'

'It couldn't have escaped.'

'Couldn't it have just 'popped' out?'

'It's impossible to apparate in or out of the cave. There are wards in place –'

'Yeah, but house elves can pop in and out of wizard wards, easy.'

Harry pointed out.

Voldemort felt himself freeze in place and he had to swallow the undignified groan that wanted to escape from his throat.

'Merlin, I was such a fool!'

'It's an easy thing to overlook.'

'No, it was a foolish thing to overlook! There's no telling how long the locket has been outside the protections of the cave... and in the Black family home... in the house Dumbledore has chosen to use as his headquarters! Circe, what are the chances...?'

'What are the chances that I would just randomly stumble across it? Pretty damn lucky, if you ask me.'

Harry said.

Voldemort mentally chuckled, but it was tinged with obvious exasperation.

'I swear, love, you're blood is made of felix felicis."

he paused and let out the smallest of sighs.

 

"Thank you for finding it.'

"Master?" Lucius' hesitant and slightly concerned voice cut through and Voldemort looked up and gave the blond aristocrat a sharp look and held up a finger to indicate him to wait.

'I need to return to the meeting love.'

'Of course. I'll bring the locket with me when I come back in two days and I'll keep it safe until then.'

'I know you will.'

Voldemort felt Harry's consciousness leave his mind and let out another small breath of air. He scowled down at the table for a moment as his mind processed what he had just discovered. For who knows how many years... and if Regulus was involved, it had to be at least fifteen years, since the man had disappeared... disappeared with absolutely no explanation. Perhaps he had fallen victim to the cave's protections? The elf could 'pop' out, but Regulus would not have been able to escape with the locket... In any case, the locket had been missing from it's safe place for at least fifteen years, and he had been completely ignorant of that fact.

He wondered suddenly if his faith in his other locations' protections could also be empty. Was it possible for any of the others to have been discovered or disturbed? The diary that he had left with Lucius – he paused and glared up at the blond who instantly paled and cowered a bit under the deathly glare of his Lord – and the diary had been destroyed. He had left the locket in the cave and if it weren't for Harry's bizarre, unnatural luck, it could have been lost. Thrown out with the trash by some idiotic blood-traitor witch, or worse, discovered by Dumbledore and destroyed.

The ring... the ring was hidden beneath the Gaunt's hovel in Little Hangleton. It was –

He froze. Dumbledore

knew

about Little Hangleton and the Riddles. Could he also know about the Gaunts? If he went to investigate it would he discover the ring?

He needed to check on his horcruxes.

He needed to

know

that they were still safe and intact. He could have Harry check on the diadem once he was back at Hogwarts, and once he was able to get his followers out of Azkaban he would have Bella check on the cup. There really was no chance that it would be missing since the Goblins loyalties lie with the customer and not the Ministry. They would never hand over the contents of a vault to the Ministry, even if the owner of the vault were incarcerated in Azkaban.

Still, he needed to

know.

He would go tomorrow and begin checking on them.

– –

The rest of Harry's evening was completely uneventful. He kept the locket around his neck with his ring, and kept his high collar fastened shut. After spending some time in the drawing room with the other teens, he and Hermione went to the Black library and started looking for any signs of a book that would describe how a family tree was generated.

They didn't have any luck, but they still had all day tomorrow to look. Finally Harry retired to his shared room, slipped into a pair of dark gray satin sleep pants, bid Ron goodnight, and lay in bed, until Ron's obnoxious snoring became loud enough that Harry was sure the ginger was out cold. He pulled his cypress wand out from under his pillow where he had slipped it earlier that night, and cast a two-way silence ward around his side of the room that would break if Ron got out of bed.

Relieved by the sudden decrease is ear-shattering noise Harry returned his wand to its hiding place, slipped into his mindscape and along the connection to Tom's mind. The other was preparing for bed and felt Harry's arrival. The pair conversed while Tom finished his preparations and then for a while longer after he had climbed into the bed. Tom told Harry of the meetings he had had that day and any things learned worth note. Tom also told him of his intentions to investigate the Gaunt shack to make sure the ring was still were it was supposed to be.

Finally they said their goodnights and Harry slipped from Tom's mind and returned to the dismal, discomfort of the tiny foreign bed. Nearly an hour passed and Harry was still trying in vain to sleep. Tom had finally drifted off to sleep – Harry could feel it through their connection – and Harry wasn't about to wake the other just because

he

was suffering from insomnia. Tom was comfortable and warm in their wonderful bed. Harry was on a lumpy, musty, ratty old mattress that was, until very recently, infested with doxies. It really was no wonder that Harry was having trouble sleeping. He didn't exactly anticipate anything better the following night either, and was glad that he only had to spend two nights in this bed.

No matter how much the deep Dark taint of the house comforted him, he still didn't like being in it. The Dark magic that existed in Riddle manor was younger – only having been introduced since Tom had taken residence in the house – but it was familiar and Harry missed it.

Harry sighed heavily and twisted onto his side, trying to get comfortable on the monstrosity that was pretending to be a mattress. Ron was still out cold across the room on his own lumpy bed. Harry could see the other boy's mouth open and close with what was undoubtedly very loud snoring and was grateful, for the nth time, for silencing charms, and that his trace was gone so he had no problems with casting them here.

Harry tried to clear his mind, but found himself thinking over his interactions with his old 'friends' from the previous day. Things really had gone generally well with the Weasley brood and Hermione. He had known that the gingers would be the hardest to do any of this with, and he was still going to have to make regular dips into Ron's mind – shudder the thought – to see if the jealous prat had ratted Harry out to his parents or to Dumbledore.

It would be inconvenient if Ron did, but it wouldn't be a huge detriment to Harry's plans. He hadn't told Ron that he had gone

Dark; only that he didn't trust or want to work with Dumbledore anymore. And if

that

got back to Dumbles or the senior Weasley's, Harry was still confident that he could work it to his advantage. That he could argue with them that if they wanted him to trust them that they should be honest with him and share information with him. They would either refuse to do so and he would have even more valid reasons to openly not trust them, or they

would

share info and he could use that against them. It was perfect.

And yet it didn't look like he had an awful lot to be concerned over since Ron had seemed surprisingly open to the web of lies Harry had spun for them. Harry found himself smirking into the darkness of the room.

Harry really didn't believe much of what he had told to them – nor what he had told to the Minister earlier that month. They were basically paranoid conspiracy theories, and even Harry – with all his deep seeded hatred of Dumbledore – realized that they were probably not entirely true – at least not to the extreme extent Harry had hinted at. It was highly unlikely that Dumbledore had been intentionally slipping Light magic into the curriculum with the intention of raising generations of Light wizards to serve in his own personal army. However, that was just the sort of paranoid concerns that would feed into Minister Fudge's easily manipulated little mind.

Yes

, the Hogwarts curriculum had been slowly introducing more and more Light magic into everyday practice, but it was unlikely that it was a part of some large insidious plot. Harry knew this. It still made for a very convincing argument when delivered well. And he could deliver it quite well.

He also didn't believe that Dumbledore frequently used Legilimency on the students of Hogwarts. He

did

believe that Dumbledore

had

been using it on

him. However, the other students... not so much. In fact, the fact that he hadn't read Hermione's mind during the meeting with her up in his office towards the end of last term just went to show that he probably avoided using it on students unless truly necessary. At the time he apparently hadn't thought the need was great enough to violate Hermione's privacy by delving into her thoughts.

He didn't doubt that Dumbledore had implanted the suggestion about Myrtle's bathroom, and the revelation that Dumbledore had visited the Weasley's the summer before first year was definitely interesting, but he didn't think Dumbles had made a regular habit of reading the mind of Harry's 'friends'. Although that could likely change now...

He knew he needed to teach some of them Occlumency. Hermione at the least. He intended to keep tabs on Ron's mind, so it wouldn't be very beneficial to teach the ginger idiot how to shield his mind, but he highly doubted that Ron had the propensity for it anyway.

Aside from the revelation that he didn't trust Dumbledore, Harry had no intentions of letting anything moresensitive

slip in Ron's presence, so hopefully it wouldn't be a big problem if Ron couldn't protect his mind from Dumbledore.

It was enough that Harry had planted the seeds of doubt in all of their minds. They were all going to be second-guessing and paying closer attention to Dumbledore's actions from here on out, and that was exactly what Harry wanted.

After all, Dumbledore does regularly do some rather questionable things, all on his own. People usually dismissed it as him 'being eccentric', or him 'being Dumbledore'. But now that the seeds of doubt had been planted, they would be less apt to just ignore it and more likely to look for deeper motives.

Harry shifted again and sighed, annoyed at his inability to sleep. He missed Tom. It was really that simple. Suddenly an idea sparked in his mind and Harry twisted around, leaned over the side of his bed and hissed the password to the third compartment of his trunk. He opened it enough to slip his hand inside and pulled out the locket. He had placed it in there so Ron wouldn't see him wearing it. He shut his trunk, got back into bed and placed the locket around his neck.

Instantly the familiar presence washed over him and he sighed contently.

This was exactly what he needed. Or at least, as close to it as he could hope to get at the moment.

The bed was still uncomfortable; the pillow smelled of dust and storage, and the bed was frustratingly small, but at least he didn't feel so alone in it anymore. Sure, he carried a piece of Tom with him at all times anyway, but he'd come to realize that the sliver of Tom's soul that had accidentally gotten lodged within him was considerably smaller than the pieces intentionally broken off for the horcruxes. Tom suspected it was one of the reasons that the piece of Tom within Harry was really only capable of such stilted and staccato conversation. And even that was limited to only when Harry went into his mindscape. His 'companion' no longer had the strength to come into his waking mind of its own will. That power had left it when the pieces of Tom's personality had returned to him through their link.

So it was reasonable that the power and strength of the horcrux in the locket would feel stronger. Less than ten minutes passed before Harry had completely slipped into slumber and when he woke the next morning, he felt completely rested.

–

Harry once again dressed in some fashionable modern-day wizard robes, since he found them far more appealing and comfortable than the traditional ones that, as far as he was concerned, looked more like frilly dresses than sensible male fashion. His attire had Ron's little green monster of envy silently rearing its ugly head behind his blue eyes as he watched Harry get dressed for the day. In the bathroom, Harry had used his cypress wand to cast a notice-me-not on both the locket and his glamor ring that he had once again hung around his neck on a chain, before he secured the wand in his disillusioned wrist holster. His holly wand was in his outer robe pocket just for show. He couldn't use it because it was summer and underaged wizards 'couldn't use magic' in the summer. But he knew in years past he would have kept it on him anyway, just out of habit and comfort, so he did so now just to keep up appearances.

Breakfast was comfortable enough since Sirius was apparently a late-sleeper and Mrs. Weasley was clearly in a much better mood without him present, and Mr. Weasley joined them, since it was a Saturday and he didn't have to work.

After breakfast Harry and Hermione went to the library to continue their quest for a spell or ritual to generate a family tree. Ginny said she'd probably join them later to help, while Ron just grumbled about how he refused to spend the last day of his summer holidays around books and went back to he and Harry's room.

Harry and Hermione had been going through the shelves of books for about an hour when Hermione opened

yet another

book that wailed and screamed at her and she slammed it shut in a frustrated huff.

"How are you doing it?" she moaned in exasperation and Harry blinked at her in confusion.

"Doing what?"

"You haven't opened a single book that screamed at you, or tried to bite you, or anything like that! Am I just unlucky and getting all the really nasty ones? Or do you know something I don't?"

"Ooh," Harry said with dawning comprehension and a light chuckle. "Nah, I can just sense it. Which ones to avoid, I mean."

Hermione scrunched up her face and looked confused. "What do you mean, you can sense it?"

"I sort of...

feel

magic in things. It started about a year ago and I've been slowly working on developing it ever since. I mean, I think I probably always had the ability, but I only really started to figure it out last fall."

"I think you've mentioned this before." Hermione said slowly with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Yeah, I think I may have... anyway, I can feel the magic in things. Like this house? It's crazy how much magic there is in everything. I mean, Hogwarts is saturated with magic, and it's

ancient, but it's mostly neutral magic with a little bit of mix here and there from things added by various headmasters and teachers over the centuries. But this house? This house is

all Dark. And it has seeped into everything. There's this thick taint of magic all over stuff, even if it's not enchanted at all itself, it's still managed to absorb some of the ambient Darkness... Anyway, the books that are particularly nasty just feel a lot more...

tainted

then the rest. I can feel which ones are kind of cursed, or are charmed to react to the wrong sorts of intentions. Plus..."

He trailed off hesitantly and Hermione looked at him impatiently. "Plus, what?"

"Well... I think you're also getting a lot more er...

negative

reactions from the books because of all your um... muggle blood." Harry said with an apologetic grimace.

Hermione huffed and folded her arms over her chest indignantly.

"I can point out what books to avoid, if you'd like." Harry offered.

Hermione sighed and eventually relented. Harry went down the row of books she was currently looking through and pulled each of the more dangerous books out an inch just to note where they were.

"You know Harry, it really is remarkable that you can

sense

magic like that. I've read of a few instances where really powerful wizards had an ability to do something like that, but it's supposed to be really rare."

"Yeah, so I've read."

–

An hour later and the pair of them were sitting in a pair of wing-back chairs with a pile of books on a small table between them, and a few more on the floor in front of them. Most of the books they'd pulled hadn't turned up anything of interest, or only mentioned or summarized the existence of rituals or spells, but not actually detailing how it was done.

Ginny came in and with a brief explanation from the other two of exactly what they were looking for, she started skimming through the books for anything useful. Harry wished he could just use his search spell and make it go a lot faster, but he wasn't willing to reveal to the other two that he could use magic outside of school, so he settled with doing it the hard way. It was nearly time for lunch when Harry finally found something truly useful.

It described

exactly

what to do to create a family tree on a tapestry. It was an incredibly complex process that included, among a few other things, brewing a potion that would take one full lunar cycle to complete, and required a few hard-to-acquire ingredients – although Harry was sure he could easily come by them as long as he didn't have to tell Hermione where he got them. Hermione would also need a sample of blood from each of her parents to determine which one was a squib and which one really was just a muggle. Fortunately it didn't require a large blood sample and there wasn't any worry about storing it or anything of that sort. It was as simple as Hermione mailing them two pieces of carefully prepared parchment, and each of them pricking their finger and placing a few dropped of blood on it before mailing them back. This was certainly nothing that her parents would refuse – at least she was convinced so. Especially after she told them that it was part of a genealogy thing.

The book detailed every step of the process, including all the variations a person could perform on the preparation process to achieve different results. Hermione wasn't planning on going all out and creating a big self-updating tapestry that would track all of her future descendants, or know which ones to exclude details depending on their gender, who they marry, and all that, so she didn't necessarily need many of the features described. What

she

cared about was going back on the tree as far as possible.

Unfortunately, that looked to be the most complex part. If she was starting a fresh tree that would start with her and stay up to date, it would be easy. Going back without any information would be harder. But still doable.

Hermione was definitely excited.

Harry stood from the group and offered to track down Sirius to ask permission for Hermione to keep the book. Hermione was grateful and said that she would gladly return the book once they were done with it, but Harry doubted that Sirius would really give a damn either way.

He left the library and was heading down the hall towards the stairs when he was suddenly overwhelmed with a torrent of emotions. Anger. Pure, unadulterated fury! Then dawning horror and a moment of true panic. Fear was tricking through him and he felt his knees grow weak and suddenly he was down on the floor, propping himself up with one hand while the other was clasped securely over his scar where a tremendous headache had sprouted in the midst of the emotional explosion.

Harry realized suddenly that he must have screamed out or something because Hermione and Ginny came running out of the library, quickly joined by Ron who came from his room. Harry was dizzy and felt the room spin a little as he was prodded by his 'friends' to turn and sit down on the floor with his back to the wall.

Tom needed him.

That was the only clear thought he could get through his muddled mind as he consciously ignored the concerned questions the group of teens were throwing at him. Someone called out in a loud voice and a moment later Sirius was standing over him, looking down with concern etched on his features.

Lupin's equally concerned face appeared a moment later over his shoulder, and then Mrs. Weasley.

Damn it! Damn damn damn!

He needed to get away from here. Away from these stupid people and get to Tom! But how the hell was he going to do that with the whole damn household hovering over him? They wouldn't leave his side now that they were all worried!

"I'm alright!" Harry said loudly, all of a sudden, pushing Mrs. Weasley's hand away rather bluntly and shakily standing to his feet. The group took a few steps back to give him room, all looking at him with worry in their eyes.

"Was it a vision?" Ron asked in a hoarse voice. "Of Y-You-Know-Who?"

Ginny sucked in a harsh breath and looked over at Ron with shock on her face before her gaze darted back to Harry; her eyes asking for confirmation.

Shit.

How was he going to play this? Just deny?

He could already tell from the look in Hermione's face that if he denied it, she wouldn't believe him.

Was there a way for him to use this? If there was, he couldn't think of a way at the moment. His mind was too muddled and overwhelmed. Tom's torrent of emotions were still coursing through him and they were mixing him all up. He couldn't think straight.

"Look, I... I need to lay down, I think." Harry said ducking his head and trying to push past the crowd and made his way down the hall towards his room. At which point, he recalled that he was sharing the damn room with Ron and Ron would probably try to follow him in there. Maybe he could claim exhaustion and pretend to sleep. Or just ask Ron for the space.

He shook his head, trying to clear it, but only managing to make himself feel even more dizzy. It had been ages since he'd been so overwhelmed by anything from Tom. Of course Tom hadn't experienced any emotions this strongly since their bond had formed. Harry was also startled that his scar had actually

hurt

a bit. It hadn't hurt at all in nearly a year.

Tom needs me

.

He grimaced. He couldn't think of any way to escape Grimmauld Place and get to Tom before September 1st. Not in person, anyway. But he could go to him through their link.

Harry reached the room and went inside, promptly closing it before anyone could follow. He could hear a few of them attempting to protest, but it was quickly given up... or at least he thought so until the door opened and in walked Sirius.

Harry sighed heavily as he sank down onto his bed.

"Are you alright, pup?" Sirius asked, walking over and pulling a chair to directly in front of where Harry was now sitting on the bed. "Ron mentioned a vision?"

Harry rolled his eyes a bit. "It's not the same but... it is Tom. Something's happened."

"What do you mean, 'something's happened'?

How can you tell?"

"It's complicated, Sirius. And I don't know what's happened yet, because I'm stuck here, and because I can't get a minute alone. I need to check on him and..." Harry huffed. "Can you maybe make sure they all stay out of here for a bit?"

Sirius frowned. "What are you going to do? You aren't going to try and go somewhere, are you? Believe me when I say, you can't portkey out of this house. My father layered every kind of protection imaginable on this house –"

"No, I'm not going anywhere. Not yet at least. I've got another way to get in contact with him. I just need some privacy. Can you help me?"

Sirius sighed and nodded his head. "Sure... what should I tell them?"

"Tell them I told you I've got a killer migraine and I'll talk to them all later."

"Fine."

Sirius stood up and returned the chair to the desk against the wall. He gave his godson one final look of concern before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. Harry waited for a moment before pulling out his cypress wand, locking the door, and casting a privacy ward around the room. He laid down on the bed, closed his eyes, and slid through the link.

'Tom? Are you there? What happened?'

Harry asked, and realized rather quickly that his mental voice sounded damn-near frantic. Of course, he

felt

frantic, so he was really only appropriate.

It took a moment before he got a response.

'I'm here...'

'What happened? I got this huge rush of emotions from you. Anger.. fear... even a bit of desperation. What's going on? I collapsed on the floor, it was so intense!'

'You collapsed? Are you alright?'

'I'm fine! What happened to you?'

'It's... not there.'

'What's not there?'

'The ring. The damn, bloody ring! It's not there!'

Harry felt his chest seize up. One of Tom's horcruxes was missing.

'How... I mean, do you... wha...'

Harry paused, trying to sort out his thoughts and ask a coherent question.

'Can you tell how long it's been gone? Who might have taken it?'

'I think that's probably the most infuriating part. I believe it was only taken very recently. It damn well could have been yesterday!'

'How can you tell?'

'All of the spells were only just recently dismantled. All of the magical signatures around the place was extremely fresh.'

'But who –'

Harry stopped before the question even escaped his mind. He already knew the answer.'Dumbledore.'

'Yes. Unquestionably. I could feel his magic there.'

'He wasn't just in Little Hangleton to investigate Riddle Manor 'disappearing'. He was also searching for the Gaunt house.'

'That is my assumption as well.'

Tom replied.

'My only consolation is that it would appear that he did not manage to go completely unscathed from my protections. There was evidence that he felt victim to at least one of the curses I placed on the ring. The extent of the damage, I cannot know for sure...'

Harry felt Tom release an almost defeated sigh.

'Do you think he'll know what it is?'

Harry asked.

'He very well may. Considering he was able to examine the diary after your second year, I would find it surprising if he hadn't at least suspected what it truly was.'

'You said that a horcrux is near impossible to destroy... will he know how?'

'It will likely take him time... I hope so, at least.'

'Will you know if it's destroyed?'

'I am unsure, Harry... I never knew the diary was destroyed. I always assumed I would be able to tell. That I would feel something like that.'

'You didn't have a body yet when the diary was destroyed...'

'True... true.'

'We can't let Dumbledore keep hold of the ring though... there's got to be something we can do!'

'We will have to tread carefully, but yes, we cannot leave it in his possession. His hands are the most dangerous that it could remain in. He will not allow it to remain intact for long.'

Harry paused, his mind deep in thought for a few minutes.

'If he knows about your horcruxes, it's imperative that we make sure the locket is put somewhere safe... will he be able to sense it? I mean... if I go to Hogwarts with it around my neck, will he be able to tell?'

'I doubt it, but I cannot guarantee it. If it was in the Black manor all this time, and Dumbledore has been using it as his headquarters without realizing that it's there, then I would assume he cannot sense it. Still, it is probably best if it does not remain with you once you return to the school.'

'I had expected to give it back to you anyway,'

Harry said.

'Yes... it is probably for the best that it not stay anywhere near Dumbledore, but I had honestly intended to let you continue to wear it.'

Harry found himself slightly startled, but also touched by that proclamation. Tom already trusted Harry with one piece of his soul, but to willingly give him another... Harry almost felt a bit sentimental about the whole thing and found a soft smile curling up his lips.

'You can wear it when at the manor,'

Tom continued.

'You could keep stored it in the time-turner room between your switches.'

Harry paused, still surprised that Tom wasn't insisting that it be stored somewhere much safer and behind a mountain of protections, especially considering that one of his horcruxes was known destroyed, and another was currently in the possession of Dumbledore, who no doubt would be doing everything in his power to destroy it as soon as he was able.

'Thank you...'

Harry found himself whispering over the link.

'Don't be ridiculous, Harry. There is no one else I would trust with it.'

Harry smiled at that.

'I'll do everything in my power to make sure the ring is recovered.'

Harry said suddenly.

'We'll see... I –'

Tom began but cut off abruptly.

'Someone has arrived at the manor. There are no meetings scheduled for today...'

Tom paused, and his mental voice remained silent for a moment. Harry waited, feeling slightly on edge.

'It's Severus. I'll contact you later.'

'Alright,'

Harry said, reluctantly.

'I'll talk to you later.'

'Bye, love.'

Harry found himself smiling again.

'Bye.'

– –

Disclaimer:

I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary:

Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta

Pass

by tannne

AN:

This chapter will get you all through the Grimmauld Place stuff. I'll be a bit before I continue with posting Part 2. I intend to post the next big batch around early December.

– –

Chapter 14

Severus Snape was not having a good day, and he suspected that it was only going to get a lot worse. He just

knew

it was. He wasn't even sure why. On one hand, it could easily be construed that the news he was going to be delivering to the Dark Lord could be considered

good

news. Despite this, he had the sinking feeling that something

bad

had happened.

Of course, as far as Dumbledore was concerned, and the wizarding Light in general, something bad

had

happened. But

thatwas the part that was likely the good news for the Dark.

Late the previous night, he had received an almost frantic firecall from the Headmaster, requesting his immediate assistance. He had flooed directly to Dumbledore's office to discover the man in the process of trying to counter one of the Darkest curses Severus had ever personally witnessed any man be afflicted with, and not instantly die. But this was Dumbledore he was dealing with, and he realized he shouldn't be surprised.

Despite all of Dumbledore's boundless knowledge and experience, the fact remained that Severus was far more knowledgeable when it came to Dark curses, and counter-curses. He had done everything in his power to fight against the curse, that had been centrally focused on the man's right hand because the stupid old fool had put on some sort of cursed ring. Severus had just barely managed to contain the curse in the hand and keep it from instantly spreading to the rest of Dumbledore's body, killing him then and there. But the curse was not gone. It was not destroyed or cured. The curse was still there... locked within the now shriveled and blackened hand. A curse that would slowly and painfully kill the ancient wizard.

Dumbledore's days were now numbered. This was tremendous news for the Dark, and yet... Severus could not help but worry that something bad was about to happen.

He apparated into the entry hall of the Dark sect's headquarters and paused, wondering where to check first for the Dark Lord. He was about to simply call one of the house elves to him, and ask it to contact his master for him, when he caught sight of the man in question descending the stairs, glaring at him.

The Dark Lord was

not

in a good mood. He could already tell, just from the man's aura and what little of his expression was distinguishable on his serpentine features.

Severus bowed low and spoke. "My Lord, I have important news."

The Dark Lord came to stand before Severus, glaring down at him for a moment before turning and making his way towards the long hall.

"Come, Severus." He said in a cold, high voice.

Severus quickly righted himself and followed. He was led to the conference room and the two entered. The Dark Lord took his seat at the head of the table and Severus sat across from him. A quick motion of Voldemort's long bony fingers, and an impatient expression was all Snape needed to quickly begin his tale.

He told the Dark Lord about being called to Dumbledore's office. About the curse, and having to work to counter it. He told him how he had contained it, but that it was not cured. He made it a point to emphasize that Dumbledore was truly as good as dead.

"How long do you suspect he has?" the Dark Lord asked, interrupting Severus' tale.

"I would wager he has no more than a year before the curse destroys him."

Voldemort nodded slowly and his eyes looked cold and calculating.

"The ring on his finger... did it appear in tact?"

"It... appeared to be... yes. The curse was gone from it, since it had transferred to Dumbledore himself and been neutralized on the original ring. He was still wearing it, even when I left."

The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed and Severus could feel the waves of fury emitting off the powerful Dark wizard that sat before him. The hair on his arms stood on end, and in that moment, he truly feared that he would get cursed, and he wasn't even sure why.

"I want you to try everything in your power to retrieve that ring for me Severusss," Voldemort said after a long, tense moment. "It is of tremendous value to me, do you understand? Dumbledore must

not

be allowed to destroy it!"

"Yes, m'lord," Severus said instantly.

"If at any point you see a difference in it... if it suddenly appears damaged or if he stops wearing it, I want you to inform me, or Harry, immediately."

Snape blinked, slightly stunned, and definitely bewildered as to what Potter would have to do with it, but he kept his curiosity to himself. He also couldn't help but note that the Dark Lord had called him 'Harry', and not 'Potter'.

"You will need to watch Dumbledore very closely from here on out, Severusss. Now that his days are numbered, he is likely to become desperate. His actions will be less predictable. Even

I

do not know what to expect from him now..."

Severus nodded slowly. "Yes, my Lord. I will not fail you."

"See that you don't."

– –

Harry had managed to dodge the questions of his fellow teens for the rest of that day by acting moody and grumbling about a migraine. He had asked Sirius about the book for Hermione. Sirius had scoffed and said Hermione could have it. He didn't give a damn about any of the books in the library and he would likely see them all burned, if it were up to him. Harry had glared at him and told him if he ever did that, Harry would be extraordinarily angry with him.

Sirius had laughed, but Harry had been quite serious.

After dinner Harry's 'friends' finally cornered him about what had happened earlier that morning, insisting that he be honest with them because they were his friends and he could

trust them. Harry had fought the urge to roll his eyes.

He finally told them that he really wasn't sure what had happened since he had only felt pain in his forehead and gotten hazy impressions of emotions. There had been no images to go with his scar pain, so it wasn't a vision. Just a massive migraine.

Oddly enough, it was almost the complete truth.

Hermione was the one to pick up on the 'impressions of emotions' part, and inquired further on that.

He sighed and told them that it was anger. A lot of anger. Again – almost entirely true.

The others were clearly concerned and kept shooting Harry worried glances. Ron was the first one to actually ask Harry if he thought that it was from 'You-Know-Who', and if this actually confirmed Dumbledore's suggestion that Voldemort was back.

Harry had just sighed and shrugged, insisting that he really didn't know.

– –

Harry managed to escape the constant presence of his 'friends' and slipped up to the 3rd landing again and made his way to Sirius' room. He knocked lightly and heard Remus' soft voice beckoning him in. He pushed the door open and peered in to find Remus sitting at a desk with a book in his lap, looking up curiously. A quick glance around told him that Sirius wasn't there.

"Sirius is up tending to Buckbeak, if that's who you're looking for," Remus Lupin said with a soft smile.

Harry just smiled back and shook his head. "Actually, I'm here looking for you."

Remus blinked. "For me?"

"Yes... do you have some time to talk? It's... well, it's important, and it's going to take a while to cover everything, too."

Remus sat up a bit straighter and set the book down on the desk. "Of course, Harry. What is it?"

Harry took a few steps in, turned back and closed the door while quietly hissing a parseltongue privacy ward that would prevent any eavesdropping, and alert him if anyone approached the door.

As he turned back he sat Remus's brow was furrowed and he was looking at Harry cautiously. Harry realized suddenly that Remus likely had heightened hearing as an effect of his lycanthropy. He took a few steps forward giving Remus an apologetic, but reassuring look as he pulled another chair forward and sat opposite Remus.

"You cast a spell," Remus stated cautiously. "I felt the... magic."

Harry distinctly heard the word left unsaid.

Dark.

The

Dark

magic.

"I did," Harry said slowly with a small nod. "It's parselmagic. With all the wards and protections around this house, under-aged magic can't really be detected by the Ministry. But even without that, my parselmagic tends to go unnoticed by my trace since it's wandless."

Remus' brow rose with mild surprise, but he didn't comment further. "You needed to talk about something?" he asked, instead.

Harry nodded his head and reached into his pocket and pulled out a small round orb. It was basically the same thing he'd used on Snape at the end of the last school term, although he had no intention of making use of a few of its features.

He looked at the orb in his palm hesitantly for a second before looking up at Remus. "Do you trust me?"

"What?" Remus blanched.

Harry held his hand out, offering the orb to Remus. "I have some things I want to reveal to you, Remus. You, Sirius, and my father were best friends. I've already told Sirius, and you deserve to know the truth as well, but I can't take risks right now. There's so much at stake and if the information I'm going to share with you gets into the wrong hands, I'm as good as dead. If you touch this orb, it will protect the information I am going to give you, in your mind. Will you do this for me?"

Remus looked stunned and his eyes drifted down to the small glass-like orb in Harry's hand. His brow furrowed as he looked at it intently for a moment. His eyes flickered back up to Harry's. "It's Dark magic, Harry..."

"I know. It won't hurt you. I won't use it to do anything harmful to you, I promise."

"What does it do, exactly?"

Harry sighed. "Quite a few things, but I'm not going to use most of its functions. The part I intend to use will protect the information you learn from the moment you touch the orb until I cancel the spell."

"Protect in what way?"

"Legilimency can't extract it from your mind, and truth serums can't force you to speak of it. Also... I have the option to revoke the knowledge."

"What does that mean?" Remus said, sitting up straighter and looking confused.

"If, at the end of our talk, I don't believe that you are handling the information well... I can remove it instantly. The information is enclosed by the magic of the orb. The orb can protect it, or it can dissolve it away and you won't remember me telling you anything."

"And you think this is a necessary precaution?"

"I do."

Remus sighed and carded his hand through his short, graying hair. "Alright... fine." Remus extended his hand and hesitated over the orb for the briefest of moments before taking it from Harry's grasp.

It glowed as soon as Remus took it and Harry felt the magic take hold.

Harry sighed and smiled at the aging werewolf. "Thank you. Okay, now I want you to understand that what I'm going to tell you is extremely hard to believe, and worst of all, I can't provide you with proof of what I'll claim. I showed Sirius memories in a pensieve, but I couldn't bring it with me, so we don't have the luxury here, and tomorrow I have to go back to Hogwarts... " Harry huffed a bit in annoyance.

"Okay, I'm just going to tell you what I've managed to piece together. Explaining to you all of the steps and discoveries I went through to gain all of this information would take too long and would be too confusing. Just believe me when I say that it took me nearly a year to figure out everything that I'm about to tell you, and that I

swear, I'm not lying, or making any of it up. I don't have proof, and as such, I acknowledge that you'll likely feel less inclined to believe it, but I swear to you that I am absolutely convinced that what I'm about to tell you is the truth."

Remus was looking concerned and wide-eyed. "Alright Harry. I'll listen with an open mind."

Harry grinned thankfully. "I really appreciate that, thanks." Harry took a deep breath as if to center himself and gain his strength before looking Remus in the eyes with determination.

"Nearly sixteen years ago, at the height of the first war, Dumbledore bore witness to a seer's prophecy. It said, 'The only one with the power to match the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... The Dark Lord will come for him and mark him as his equal. He will have two paths from which to chose. From one path, the End will fall upon us all. From the other, we shall be saved. The Dark Lord and his Equal will either rule together, or destroy each other.

For either to die, it must be at the hand of the other for neither can die while the other survives."

Harry paused and waited a moment as a wide-eyed and pale Remus took in his words. "After Dumbledore heard that prophecy he came to the obvious conclusion that it meant two possible paths lay before us. One path where a savior would be born that could defeat Voldemort, and another path were the Dark Lord's equal was about to be born, and would eventually join his side and make him unstoppable. Maybe you've realized this, and maybe you haven't, but Dumbledore is always working from the shadows to control and manipulate everything. He makes it seem that he's doing nothing at all, when in reality he's quietly controlling all of the chess pieces. He saw this prophecy as an opportunity to create the Light's savior. In an attempt to guarantee that the outcome he preferred came to pass, he staged an encounter with one of Voldemort's spies.

"He had the seer come back and meet with him again, but this time in a more public place – in the Hog's Head pub in Hogsmeade. He

imperiod

the seer and forced her to fake a prophecy, but an altered one."

Remus' eyes widened and he looked as if he were about to protest but Harry held up his hand to silence him.

"The seer's fake prophecy went like this," Harry continued,

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..."

Again, Harry waited for Remus to go over it in his head. "One of Voldemort's Death Eaters overheard a portion of this prophecy and believed that it was a true prophecy about his master. He would have overhead all of it, but was interrupted part way through. The point of this altered prophecy was to get Voldemort to

personally

go after this child. For him to

attack

the child. With the modified prophecy, the child was clearly a significant threat. Pure and simple. So Voldemort would attack the child. But according to the

real

prophecy, 'For either to die, it must be at the hand of the other for neither can die while the other survives.'

Dumbledore's hope was that if Voldemort attacked the child, he would destroy himself. It was a naïve hope, honestly..."

Harry sighed and shook his head. "It quickly became clear that the child the prophecy spoke of was most likely the child of James and Lily Potter, although the potential existed that it could have been Frank and Alice Longbottom."

Remus' eyes widened and his lips parted slightly, but he didn't speak.

"Dumbledore told my parents the fake prophecy. My father even told Sirius

about

the prophecy, but didn't tell him what it actually said, just the jist of it." Harry paused. "Did they tell you?"

Remus sighed and shook his head. "No... they never told me."

Harry nodded his head, having expected as much. "They were worried. There was a traitor in the Order, and you being a werewolf made them all suspect you." Harry snorted in mild disgust. "Light wizards would never truly trust a Dark creature..." he sighed and shook his head. "Dumbledore was the one who suggested to my parents that they should go under the fidelius charm. He even offered to cast it for them... which they

accepted." Harry paused and gave Remus a pointed look.

The werewolf frowned and his brow furrowed in thought.

"This is the part where I know many people would have trouble truly believing what I'm going to tell you," Harry said then, "you see, Remus... Dumbledore needed Voldemort to try and kill me. His whole plan had been leading to this. A direct, unencumbered encounter between myself, and Lord Voldemort. So he actually needed Voldemort to be able to get to me easily, but he also needed for there to be little to no resistance, and no chance that my parents could escape with me.

"The house was cut off from the floo network, and there were powerful anti-apparition and anti-portkey wards around the house. Erected by Dumbledore. The Fidelius was cast

by Dumbledore. Do you realize what that means, Remus? The person who casts the Fidelius

knows

who the secret keeper is. He sets it himself. Dumbledore

knew

it wasn't Sirius. He

knew

it was Pettigrew. In fact, I suspect that he even knew that Pettigrew was a Death Eater, and it was

he

who really put the idea into my dad and Sirius' head to switch to Peter. He

wanted

Voldemort to be able to waltz right into our home without any resistance, and that gave him the perfect opportunity to do just that."

"Harry..." Remus whispered, shaking his head slightly in disbelief.

"Dumbledore

handed us

to Voldemort on a silver platter. He was willing to sacrifice the lives of my parents, and of

me,

all for the

greater good

of ending the war and destroying Voldemort. And perhaps that may seem like a reasonable sacrifice, but it was

my life, damn it!" Harry growled. He took a deep breath to calm himself and continued.

"The thing is that Dumbledore's interpretation of the prophecy was incomplete and there were factors at work that he was ignorant of. Voldemort entered our home, killed my father, killed my mother, and shot the killing curse at me. I suspect that a combination of things played a role in my survival. A slew of coincidences that, on their own, wouldn't have been enough, but together, created an unexpected surge of magic that prevented Voldemort's killing curse from killing me and set the rest of the prophecies' events in motion.

"You see, Remus... my mum was related to Voldemort. They were basically cousins," Harry smirked and chuckled at Remus' stunned expression. "My mum's great-great grandmum was Voldemort's great aunt. My mum actually carried the blood of Slytherin in her veins. I also think that she had prepared a sacrificial blood ritual, in anticipation of Voldemort coming for me. They knew that the Dark Lord was coming for me, and were in hiding for several months before that Halloween when he came, so she had time to prepare for the worst case scenario.

"The ritual she used wouldn't normally protect against the killing curse... just about any other curse, but not the killing curse.Nothing

can block that... but the fact that it was a

blood

ritual, invoked powers from her Slytherin heritage, and reacted to the spells that Voldemort had performed in preparation for a very dark soul ritual... it reacted unexpectedly... that, was combined with the fact that her life was an actual, legitimate, sacrifice. You see, Voldemort wasn't going to kill her. He was willing to spare her life, so when she refused to stand aside, and was killed by him, it was a legitimate life-for-life sacrifice.

"So I lived, and Voldemort's body was destroyed. But the key here is that

I lived. I now had a mark on my forehead, and I lived. It was obvious to Dumbledore that the prophecy had only begun. It was not done, and as such, he knew that Voldemort was not truly dead either. If the real prophecy held true, then it meant that there was still the possibility that I could

choose

to join Voldemort, or I could

choose

to stand for the Light and sacrifice my life in order to destroy the Dark Lord.

"But he didn't trust a child with such an important role. He needed to manipulate my entire life to mold me into the type of person who would

choose

to be a martyr to the Light. He couldn't allow me to be raised by a Black because at the end of the day, Sirius was still a Dark wizard and Dumbledore would never fully trust him. He also knew that Sirius would have raised me to be a strong, self-sufficient wizard, and I would not be easily manipulated by Dumbledore then. So Dumbledore allowed Sirius to get sent away to Azkaban without a trial and left him there to

rot."

Remus' face was a mask of horrified disbelief, and barely contained fury.

"He needed me to be weak," Harry continued, "malleable, submissive, and desperate for any sort of praise or approval, so he left me with abusive, magic-hating muggles who destroyed my self confidence, and made me feel worthless and powerless. Completely ignorant of the magical world, it's politics, and history. A blank slate so that when I entered Hogwarts he could fill my head with his ideals and goals and mold me into the savior that he needed me to be. Since I entered Hogwarts, he's even used Legilimency on me to implant subliminal suggestions in my head, just to make sure I really would follow the path that

hehad chosen for me. The path that he set me on when he started this whole shitty thing."

Harry's voice had risen a bit throughout the whole rant, and he found himself snarling and sneering in disgust. He paused and took a few deep breaths to recover himself. Finally he spoke again in a deathly quiet voice.

"Well it's not

his choice, is it? It's

my

choice. And I refuse to be his pawn. I'm not some ignorant, beaten-down little boy. Not anymore. I'm a powerful wizard, Remus. I am my own man and I can make up my own damn mind."

Harry paused again and remained quiet as Remus' face went through several transitions as he processed everything. Finally some sort of dawning realization came to him and he looked at Harry with wide, almost horrified eyes.

"Are you suggesting that you intend to join Voldemort?" Remus whispered.

"Dumbledore is the reason my parents are dead, even if Voldemort cast the actual killing curse. It was war, Remus, and my parents chose to fight in it. They knew the risks. Plus, he would have never had any reason to personally target my parents if Dumbledore hadn't set the whole prophecy bullshit in motion.

Dumbledore

got us targeted.

Dumbledore

left Sirius to rot in Azkaban.

Dumbledore

left me with horrid abusive muggles, knowing how they would treat me.

Dumbledore

arranged for me to come face-to-face with Voldemort in my first year by luring him to the school with the Philosopher's Stone in hopes that we would go head-to-head and kill each other.

Dumbledore

allowed the students to be endangered and get petrified my entire second year in hopes that I could end up confronting Voldemort again, and left a twelve-year-old child to face a fifty-foot basilisk, all on his own!

Dumbledore

is the bane of my fucking existence,

not Voldemort!

As far as I'm concerned,

my enemyis Dumbledore!

Not Voldemort!"

"Voldemort is a murderer!" Remus gasped in horror.

"And Dumbledore isn't?" Harry snapped. "If anything he's worse because he tricks other people into committing murder

for himso he can keep his own soul untainted by murder. He manipulates other people into dirtying their hands while his stay apparently clean. He's a bastard, Remus! He's a lying, deceitful, manipulative, nasty old bastard! He wants to use me and throw me away, and allow my entire life to be utterly miserable until the point in time when I will fulfill my usefulness and destroy Dumbledore's biggest mistake."

"Dumbledore's mistake?" Remus whispered in confusion.

"Voldemort." Harry whispered softly. "He was raised by abusive muggles too, you know. A wizarding child, left to grow up with muggles who didn't understand him or his powerful accidental magic. Who thought he was evil because of the strange things he could make happen. Who beat him, and tried to exorcise his demons through horrific muggle religious rituals. And Dumbledore was the one who came and collected him when he turned eleven and was accepted to Hogwarts. Dumbledore knew how they treated him. He knew the horrors that he had to go back to each summer, and yet, he refused to help him. He didn't trust him. He could have done something about it, Remus. He could have saved the Dark Lord from becoming the miserable, bitter, empty monster that he became for so many dark and lonely years. And in the one moment, when Voldemort attempted to take another path – the

one, deciding moment

when he could have become something other than a Dark Lord, Dumbledore, once again, stood in his way and refused him because of his own paranoid, suspicious mind.

"Dumbledore's actions created the Dark Lord, and now his actions have created the Dark Lord's equal. I stand by Voldemort, Remus. That's my choice."

Remus gaped at him, stuck dumb and stunned, utterly. Several long minutes passed before Remus seemed to come to his senses. He swallowed thickly and took a shuddering breath.

"What about the part of the real prophecy that says one path will lead to the end? What if this path is the one that destroys the world?"

"I'm fairly sure it isn't. There's a whole other prophecy... much older and far grander. It seems connected to all this. I'm convinced that if I join Voldemort's side, we'll be working towards the right path. There's something coming, Remus. Something big. Dumbledore doesn't even realize it, but I truly do believe that his actions are only going to make things much much worse. He's blinded by his desire to see the best in everyone and his blindness will result in all of our deaths if something isn't done to stop him."

Remus stared at Harry with wide, stunned eyes for a long minute.

"You're not going to explain that, are you?"

Harry sighed. "Not yet... I'm sorry, but it's some fairly sensitive information."

Remus chuckled humorlessly and gave a long heavy sigh.

"All this stuff about Dumbledore, and you joining Voldemort – Sirius knows all of this?" Remus asked weakly, looking at the floor.

Harry nodded his head. "He does. Why do you think he's refused to join the Order again?"

Remus' head came up and he looked at Harry with wide eyes. "He hasn't joined Voldemort, has he?"

"No. We even gave him the opportunity to have Pettigrew handed over on a silver platter in exchange for him joining the Death Eaters, but in the end, I knew it wouldn't work out. Not for Sirius. He offered to follow me just out of loyalty and his duty as my godfather, but I knew I couldn't really ask that of him. So instead I simply asked that he remain neutral."

"And that's what you're asking of me?"

Harry looked at Remus for a long minute before sighing. "I suppose. Honestly, I can't understand why you stand by Dumbledore at all. I imagine it must be out of loyalty since it was his actions and protections that allowed you to get a wizarding education, despite your affliction. But in the end, Dumbledore is the

Light

Lord, and his duty is to the Light wizards, and the Light creatures. He has no respect, and owes nothing to the Dark creatures he is trying to enlist.

"Those werewolf packs he did manage to convince to follow him in the last war were left to their own devises once Voldemort fell. Dumbledore didn't follow through with any of the promises for equality or increased rights that he made them. Not one promise that he made was kept."

"He couldn't get anything through on his own," Remus defended, weakly. "He is only one man. He..."

"He is the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards! He defeated Grindlewald and received an Order of Merlin, first class! He has more respect and influence than any other single man in wizarding Europe, and has a hoard of powerful political allies! He could have done

something! He never had any intention of fighting for the rights of werewolves! He is a

Light

Lord, and werewolves are

Dark

creatures! He used them, and he's been using you!"

Remus's face once again looked defeated and broken. "You know the worst part of all this, Harry?" Remus asked, rhetorically.

"Hmm?"

"I think part of me already knew. Not... not all that about the prophecy, but I knew he wanted you for something. I knew that Sirius couldn't have been the one to betray your parents. It just

couldn't

have been him... but I did believe he had killed Peter and those muggles. Just the same, I wanted him to have a trial. I couldn't understand how Sirius could have been locked up without even being questioned! It wasn't right!

"And... and when I realized that Albus was sending you to live with Petunia... oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. I was horrified, and I tried to talk him out of it. I

tried

to explain that she was an awful woman and she had hated Lily. She had caused your mother so much grief... but he insisted that he'd taken measures to guarantee your safety with them. That Petunia would treat you as if you were her own son. Despite his guarantees, I still asked him if I could just take you. I even threatened to petition to the Ministry."

Harry's eyes grew wider as Remus talked. He could see how broken the man's face looked.

"But he... Merlin, I should have known something was horribly wrong... he

threatened

me, Harry. Not in so many words. Not in any obvious way, but the threat was definitely there. He said that he would have exposed my condition to the Ministry if I had tried to claim custody of you. To prevent it from having gone through. He said that it was far too important a piece of information for the Ministry to consider my custody application without knowing of it. So I gave up. I let you stay with those awful people, even though I knew, deep down, that it was a terrible idea.

"But I also wanted it to all be easy. For it to be true. That you really would be safe and loved there. I

wanted

it so badly, that I allowed myself to be pushed aside. And now... having read the interview you gave... knowing how they treated you. Oh Harry, I'm so sorry."

"You can't blame yourself, Remus. You did everything you could. I understand, and I certainly don't blame you." Harry said, in a reassuringly soft voice.

A heavy silence fell upon the room for a long minute before Remus let out a slow sigh.

"I've suspected that there was something bigger going on between you and Albus for a while now... especially during your third year when he allowed those dementors around the school. He claimed that he couldn't do anything about it; that he couldn't fight Fudge but..." Remus sighed and shook his head. "You know, he was the one who suggested I try teaching you the patronus. I thought he was mad for even suggesting it. Teaching a thirteen year old kid a spell like that..."

Harry's head shot up and his eyes widened slightly. "He knew I'd be practicing it all year long. That much time constantly practicing such an advanced Light spell... he

wanted

me to do it because he knew it would affect my affinity!" Harry exclaimed in a hushed voice.

Remus looked up with a slightly confused expression on his face.

"My magical affinity was

definitely

Light at the start of my fourth year," Harry explained. "Pure Light. But it was forced. It was an unnaturally acquired affinity. It was like that because of all the training with the patronus charm! Remus... do you understand what it means that Dumbledore is the Light Lord?"

Remus blinked and shook his head. "What it means? No. What do –"

"It's a position granted to him by Magic itself. It's a title that has to be won through a set of tremendously difficult trials that have to be completed in absolute secrecy. He had to have done it in his youth, many, many years ago. Voldemort did the same sort of thing when he decided to become the Dark Lord."

Remus gaped at Harry, but didn't interrupt.

"The thing is that the Lords of affiliated magic are tied to all wizards and creatures of their affinity. They are duty-bound to protect those of their affinity and to fight for their cause, but the wizards and creatures of their affinity are bound to their Lord as well. They are magically compelled to give their absolute loyalty to their Lord. If I had remained a Light wizard, I would have felt magically compelled to swear my loyalty to Dumbledore.

"It's the biggest reason that Dumbledore has never truly trusted your or Sirius. You, being a werewolf, naturally have a Dark affinity. Sirius has a Dark affinity because of his ancestry and his upbringing. Neither of you will ever be magically compelled to serve Dumbledore with the level of unwavering support and loyalty that he gets naturally from any Light wizards. Do you see? He allowed the Ministry to place dementors around Hogwarts knowing that they'd come after me. He did it so that I would feel the need to find a way to protect myself. I would be driven to learn the patronus charm and he instructed

you

to teach it to me. He wanted me doing it, so that my affinity would go Light and he'd get my loyalty!"

Remus' jaw had fallen wide open and his eyes were giant circles. Slowly he closed his mouth and looked away, unfocused, at the opposite wall.

"Merlin... it's just too much..."

Harry sighed. "I know... believe me. I know. So what will you do, Remus? Now that you know?"

"What would you have me do, Harry? I'm just one man and I'm not a very powerful one... I have no influence. I have nowhere else to go. I have nothing right now. Even if I don't like Dumbledore or what he's doing, I don't know what else I can do right now. Leave the Order, I suppose, but where do I go? I..."

"You are not 'just one man'; nor are you weak! You are a werewolf, Remus! The Lycans are a powerful race! It is not an affliction that you should be ashamed of! You have spent your entire life, surrounded by Light wizards who have destroyed your spirit and filled your head with self loathing, and Light agenda propaganda! You fear what you are so you deny it and hide from it. It only makes you suffer more!"

"Harry, you don't understand! It –"

"I understand, plenty, Remus! You're allowing yourself to be used by Dumbledore and the Order. I'm not saying that you should join Voldemort, but I truly do believe that you need to reconnect with what it really means to be a werewolf. Dumbledore has you going to visit the various lycan clans right now, right?"

Remus nodded his head hesitantly and Harry continued.

"Don't waste all your time there trying to convince them to join the Order's side, or remain neutral from Voldemort. Take advantage of the opportunity to get to know them. Learn about them. Embrace your inner wolf and see for yourself what life as a werewolf can mean for those who do not shun their true nature as you have your whole life.

That

is what I ask of you."

–

After a bit more discussion, the two finally ended their talk. Harry left Remus with his memories intact, but the power of the orb would prevent Remus from revealing anything that he and Harry had discussed with anyone else. Using the orb, he gave Remus permission to discuss what he had told him with Sirius, but no one else. If he tried to fight against the magic and reveal any of what Harry had told him to anyone else, the magical compulsion would seal his mouth shut and knock him unconscious.

Any new discussions or thoughts that related to this topic would be included in the magical web inside his mind, also protected from mental intrusion or truth serums, so any additional information revealed by Sirius would still be protected.

After leaving the room, Harry sought out Sirius, who was sitting up on the terrace of the room Buckbeak was staying in, staring up at the stars. He told Sirius that he had told Lupin and gave Sirius permission to discuss the things he had told Sirius with the other man. Finally, Harry retired to his and Ron's room and sighed, trying to clear his mind of all the things that had happened that day.

Shortly after that, Tom slipped into Harry's mind and filled him in on Severus' visit. Harry was shocked to learn that Dumbledore was actually

dying. The idea that Dumbledore had less than a year to live was strangely startling, and oddly enough, Harry wasn't sure how he felt about it.

He certainly wasn't

saddened

by the thought. Although, if he were being honest, he felt a bit cheated. It was awfully anticlimactic for the old Light Lord to go out in a slow painful death from a Dark curse.

But at least, he would die because of one of

Tom's

curses.

Still; definitely disappointed. Harry realized that he really had wanted to be the one to do it. The one to

end

Dumbledore. But still, he wasn't convinced that he

could

do it with his current skill level. Dumbledore was

Dumbledore, after all. Harry had anticipated having more time to prepare. That there would be some sort of epic battle in the end, where he could give some sort of dramatic monologue, rubbing his turn to the Dark side in the old bastard's face.

Which was really a rather naïve idea, if he was being honest with himself. After all, wasn't that now most villains met their ends in stories? Because they got lost in some idiotic monologue and allowed their opponent to get the upper-hand?

Still; he couldn't help but imagine it that way in his head. Gleefully picture the look on the damned fool's face as he realized the full extent of Harry's switch in loyalties...

But all his imagined scenarios involved Dumbledore on the ground, or on his knees after falling from some epic duel, and Harry had to admit that, despite all his tremendous advances in skill and power, he really had no idea how he would compare to Dumbledore... He knew he wasn't really ready yet – but could he possibly get ready during the year that remained until the damned old man died on his own from the stupid curse?

Harry scowled.

How anti-climactic.

Stupid old fool. Harry was honestly surprised that Dumbledore had been careless enough to put the ring on. It seemed obvious that it would be cursed. Dumbledore had, had to go through several layers of curses and protection spells before getting to the actual ring, so why would he suddenly get so sloppy and put the damn thing on?

It was just...

weird.

He was shocked that Dumbledore would

wear

one of Tom's horcruxes at all, if he was being honest with himself. He hoped that Dumbledore didn't make a habit of wearing the thing constantly. It would make it a lot harder to steal if the old bastard never took it off.

And he

had

to get it back. It was a piece of his Tom! He couldn't allow another piece of Tom's soul to get destroyed. He just couldn't!

– –

Disclaimer:

I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary:

Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta

Pass

tannne

AN:

Warning! The end of this chapter contains a sexual scene. It will be marked so if you're squeamish or something, you can skip it.

Happy Thanksgiving :) Here's an early surprise for you. May be two days before I post the next one. It hasn't come back from my beta yet.

– –

Chapter 15

The morning of September 1st was decidedly hectic. The Weasley's, it seemed, were biologically incapable of doing anything in a timely and organized manner. It also appeared that packing ahead of time was a foreign concept to the males of the family. Even the twins were scrambling.

Mr. Weasley had arranged for a couple of magically expanded cars from the Ministry to take them from Grimmauld Place to King's Cross station. Even with the vehicles expanded as they were, two cars were needed to accommodate not only Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, and Harry, but

also

the two Aurors, Kingsley and Tonks, Remus, Emmaline Vance, Sturgis Podmore, and a

large black dog.

Sirius had taken Harry aside back at Grimmauld Place early that morning and given him a gift that he said was to make up for his shoddy gift on Harry's birthday. It was a specially charmed mirror. He told Harry that it was part of a pair and that he had the other. He would keep it on him at all times, and if Harry ever needed to talk to him, all he had to do was look into the mirror and say his name.

Harry had stowed the mirror away in his trunk and given his godfather a hug. Now the man was in his animagus form and following as the large group hurried through King's Cross station towards the barrier that lead to Platform 9¾.

The group made it with only minutes to spare before the train was scheduled to depart at 11 o'clock, and their goodbyes had to be brief. Harry had knelt down and given Padfoot a hug and earned himself a slobbery lick on the side of his face in return. Harry shook Remus' hand and gave him a significant look. Remus had nodded his head slightly, but still looked a bit ill and unsettled.

The teens finished their farewells and boarded the train. The twins went off to find Lee Jordon, while the rest found an empty compartment to stow their trunks in, Hedwig's cage, and Hermione's kneazle-cat, Crookshanks. Ron pouted as he was left behind with the pets while Harry and Hermione bid him a quick goodbye so that they could go to the Prefect meeting.

Harry and Hermione made their way to the front of the train where the prefect's car was located, directly behind the train engine. Upon entering the car, Harry's eyes were drawn to Draco Malfoy, who was relaxing in an arrogant pose, beside Pansy Parkinson, Miles Harper and Chastity Warrington, the Slytherin 6th year prefects, and Adrian Pucey, one of the Slytherin 7th year prefects. Their eyes remained connected for an instant, and Harry even let a small smirk curl his lips before his eyes darted away and he pointedly ignored the Malfoy heir.

He and Hermione sat down beside Nathan Lubbock, one of the Gryffindor 7th year prefects. Hermione greeted Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein, the two Ravenclaw prefects for 5th year and Harry gave them a curt nod.

Cedric Diggory walked into the compartment then and Harry greeted him with a smile and a nod. Diggory was apparently the Head Boy that year, and Harry congratulated him on the position. Cedric gave him a warm smile in return and thanked him. Cedric then introduced him to Patricia Stimpson, a 7th year Ravenclaw who had been made Head Girl.

The meeting quickly got underway and the older prefects began to explain to the new 5th year prefects the duties they would be responsible for during the train ride to Hogsmeade. For the first half of the journey they would need to patrol the halls, stop any fights, and lend assistance to anyone who needed it. Cedric asked the eight 5th years if any of them knew the charm for expanding the train compartments, since that was one of the most commonly requested things during the train ride. Harry, Hermione, and Padma were the only ones who knew it. Draco scowled when he wasn't able to claim that he could do it.

Cedric then demonstrated the charm for the remaining 5th years, and told them if they still couldn't do it, and they came across a group that needed their compartment enlarged to make room for more people, to just find one of the older prefects.

The meeting didn't last too much longer. Patricia Stimpson finished up by telling them what they'd be expected to do after the Feast with the first years, and for their first rounds of the school that night, and then told them what time to show up for the first prefect meeting at school the following evening. Finally, they were all dismissed to start their shifts for patrolling the train.

It was nearly two hours before Harry and Hermione's patrol shift was finished and they were able to return to the compartment they had started out in hours prior. Harry slid the door open to find a disgruntled looking Ron sitting with his arms folded across his chest, sitting across from Ginny and a blond-haired girl that Harry only vaguely recognized, but did not know.

"Finally back, are you?" Ron spat sharply. Harry paused and gave Ron a hard look and raised a single eyebrow at him, daringly. Ron's eyes widened slightly for a moment before he ducked his head, slightly cowed. Harry had to swallow a smirk as he finished entering the compartment and sat down on the bench beside the blond girl while Hermione came in and sat beside Ron.

"Hey, Harry, Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed. "Um, this is Luna Lovegood. Luna, this is Harry Potter and Hermione Granger."

Harry turned to the blond girl and gave her a welcoming smile. She had very wide, pale-blue eyes that seemed to give her the constant appearance of being surprised. Her hair was dish-water blond and long, falling to just below her shoulders. At first, it appeared as if she were wearing a pair of earrings, made to look like radishes, but Harry quickly realized that she was wearingactual radishes

as earrings. To add to the curiousness of her appearance, he next realized that she had what looked like a cork on a piece of twine around her neck.

"It's nice to meet you," Harry said, offering her his hand. She took it, gave it a quick shake and smiled back dreamily.

"Nice to meet you as well."

Hermione, who was sitting a bit too far away to reasonably offer a handshake, simply nodded and said hello.

"Luna is in my year," Ginny explained. "She's in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes with me."

"Oh, I'll be in there with you lot this year," Harry said. "I just switched electives. I was taking Divination and Care of Magical Creatures, but I realized I'd get more benefit out of the others. McGonagall let me switch, but I have to go down a year so I'm not too far behind."

"That's interesting. Does it mean you are no longer taking Care of Magical Creatures?" Luna asked.

"Yeah, I didn't want to overload myself too much. Three electives just seemed a bit much for me right now."

"That's really too bad. I'm quite fond of Care." Luna said, still speaking in a rather airy, dreamy voice.

"So you're taking three electives then?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes." Luna said, nodding her head.

"Luna

is

a Ravenclaw," Ginny pointed out, as if that explained everything.

"Oh, are you? You know, part of me has always been surprised that Hermione didn't end up sorted into Ravenclaw." Harry said.

Hermione's head shot up and her eyes widened a bit. "Why would you say that?" she asked frowning slightly.

Harry just blinked at her, raised a single eyebrow and giving her an obvious look.

"What?" Hermione persisted.

Harry grinned and chuckled, shaking his head. "Nothing. Never mind. So, Luna, how do

you

like Ravenclaw? I've come to realize I never really socialized with many people from the other houses."

"I suppose it's nice. Although, my housemates seem to think I'm a bit odd, you know. Some people call me 'Loony' Lovegood, actually."

No one quite seemed to know how to reply to that. Ron snorted quietly under his breath, and Hermione jabbed him in the rib with her elbow.

Conversation eventually resumed when Ginny asked Hermione and Harry how the prefect meeting and their rounds were. As Ron began a discussion on Quidditch, Luna pulled out a newspaper, turned it upside down, and began to read. Harry tilted his head slightly and peered at it, attempting to read the cover.

"Oh,

The Quibbler," Harry said, realizing what it was. The house elves had brought in copies of The Quibbler a few times, but neither Harry nor Tom bothered to read it in any regular form, so they'd stopped bringing it and focused mainly on the Prophet.

Luna looked up and blinked at him owlishly.

"Do you read it?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Hermione.

"Of course not," said Hermione scathingly, before Harry could answer. "The Quibbler's rubbish, everyone knows that."

"Excuse me," said Luna; her voice had suddenly lost its dreamy quality. "My father's the editor."

"I - oh," Hermione said, looking embarrassed. "Well … it's got some interesting … I mean, it's quite …"

"I did read it a few times over the summer when the house elves brought in copies," Harry said quickly in an appeasing voice, trying to cut through the thick tension that had suddenly filled the compartment.

Luna turned her attention back to Harry and her eyes lost their cold glare. "Did you? Which issue was it?"

"Um... I recall an article on the useful magical properties of using Billywig parts for magical items, and another article on the sudden increase in the Snidget population in Northern Wales."

"Ah, that was July's issue," Luna said, the serene smile returning to her face.

"Right..."

"What on Earth is a Snidget? I've never even heard of them!" Hermione exclaimed, looking frustrated at apparently not knowing what they were talking about.

"Snidgets are small golden birds with fully rotational wings. It's completely round, covered in fluffy golden feathers, has a long, thin beak, and its eyes are bright red." Luna explained.

"They're actually what the Golden Snitch in Quidditch is based on," Harry explained and Hermione turned her glare on him. "Although, most think they're extinct..." he finished.

"Oh no, they're not extinct. In fact, their population is flourishing now that the Wookalars in the region have all fled and are no longer feeding on them." Luna replied.

"Wookalar?" Hermione exclaimed.

Their conversation continued in this vein until the announcement came through the train, informing the students that they would be arriving in Hogsmeade Station in about twenty minutes.

Hermione was thoroughly flustered by this point. She had argued and bickered with Luna, insisting that most of the creatures she talked about where nonsense, while Luna insisted quite persistently that they were not nonsense at all.

Harry, after a while, just sat back and watched with mild amusement.

Once the announcement was made, the guys left the compartment to allow the girls to change into their robes, and then the group switched. The train finally pulled up into Hogsmeade and all of the students disembarked, leaving their trunks and pets behind to be transported to the castle by the house elves.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna all made their way to one of the large carriages, lined up just beyond the platform. Harry paused as he came to the large, winged, skeletal horse that was at the head of the carriage. His hand came up, almost instinctively, drawn to the beautiful and yet also horrible, creature.

He brushed his hand over its leathery head, running his fingers through the surprisingly soft black mane on the back of its head.

"Hullo beautiful," Harry cooed to the majestic creature.

"So you can see them too?" Luna's airy voice cut in from behind him.

Harry blinked and looked back at her. "You can see them?" he asked, mildly surprised.

"See what? What are you doing, Harry?" Hermione asked coming up from behind him.

"I've been able to see them since my first day here," Luna answered Harry, pointedly ignoring Hermione.

"Who did you see die?" Harry asked in a soft voice as he dropped his hand from the Thestral and began to make his way towards the carriage with an increasingly flustered Hermione following behind them.

"My mother. She was a quite extraordinary witch, you know, but she did like to experiment and one of her spells went rather badly wrong one day. I was nine." Luna replied.

"I'm sorry," Harry said sincerely.

"Yes, it was rather horrible," said Luna conversationally. "I still feel very sad about it sometimes. But I've still got Dad. And anyway, it's not as though I'll never see Mum again, is it?"

Harry hummed noncommittally and climbed into the carriage followed by Luna and a disgruntled, glaring, Hermione.

"What

are

you two talking about?"

"The Thestrals, of course," Luna said in an obvious tone.

"The

what?"

"Thestrals pull the carriages," Harry said, as if that explained everything.

"Don't be silly Harry, nothing

pulls

the carriages! They're just charmed to move on their own or something." Hermione insisted.

"No, actually, they're pulled by Thestrals." Harry said in a slow voice, as if explaining something to a young child. This was probably the wrong approach to take because it only seemed to infuriate Hermione further.

"Are you pulling my leg? There's nothing there!" Hermione exclaimed, pointing at the front of the carriage where there seemed to be nothing but empty space to all but Harry and Luna.

"Only people who have seen death can see a Thestral. You've seriously never read about them? Hagrid has a herd of them that he raised himself. They're kept in the stables not far from his hut." Harry explained.

Hermione looked as if she were about to retort something, but suddenly came up short. She blinked again at the empty space and then looked back at Harry and Luna.

Ron and Ginny, who had chosen to remain silent and were now seated in the carriage beside Hermione, also seemed to suddenly have a dawning understanding in their eyes.

"Oh..." Hermione said, softly.

"While I can see the Thestrals that pull the carriages, I still can't see the Dobhar-chú that pull the boats the first years take across the lake," Luna said.

Hermione's mouth tightened into a thin line that reminded Harry of McGonagall. "And what exactly, are Dobhar-chú?" she asked in a clipped tone as she attempted to refrain from sounding angry or accusatory.

"They're water hounds of course. They originate from Ireland and look somewhat like an otter." Luna paused and looked back at Harry. "Can

you

see the Dobhar-chú?"

Harry blanched and sputtered slightly at Luna's rather

personal

question. Finally, he recovered and chuckled lightly as he ran his hand through his hair. "Er... yeah. Well, I would assume so anyway. I haven't exactly been over by the lake yet and I er... well, it only just happened this summer."

Hermione huffed in exasperation, folding her arms across her chest and shooting Harry an irritated look. "Okay, so

what

exactly allows a person to see these

Dobhar-chú,

then?"

"Only those who have engaged in sexual intercourse can see the Dobhar-chú, of course." Luna answered with a dreamy smile.

Hermione blanched, instantly going a bit pink. Ginny squeaked before shooting Harry a stunned, and yet also

amused

look. It seemed to take a Ron a moment longer than the rest to process the full implications of what had just been revealed. Harry could tell the very moment that realization finally dawned on the ginger because his face suddenly went as red as his hair and he gaped at Harry.

"Wait,

you

can see them? But that would mean..!"Ron choked out before Ginny smacked him on the shoulder and then turned back to Harry.

"Harry! Are you serious? So, it happened this summer? You and Nick..?"

Harry laughed and ducked his head sheepishly. "Well,

yeah... I mean, it was just me and Nick in the manor, alone with nothing but house-elves and Hedwig for company, for two solid months. You can't honestly believe that all we did was study the whole time?" He chuckled and smirked devilishly.

Hermione gasped and her hand flew up to her mouth. "You didn't!" she exclaimed.

Harry laughed and gave an unapologetic grin and shrug.

The carriage finally pulled up at the front steps of the castle and the group piled out of it. Hermione stood, looking hesitantly at the empty spot at the front of the carriage. Luna walked over, took Hermione's hand and guided it up until it came to rest on the Thestral's side. Hermione gasped in surprise at suddenly coming against a solid surface where her eyes told her there was nothing but empty space.

"Just because you cannot see something, does not mean it's not there." Luna said dreamily, giving Hermione a small smile before turning away and following the crowd inside the castle.

Harry and his 'friends' followed her lead and also made their way inside. Just as Harry was about to follow the others into the Great Hall, McGonagall called him aside and led him into an empty side-room.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked.

"I have your time-turner. I thought I ought to give it to you now so that you'll have it for classes tomorrow." McGonagall said, curtly.

Harry's eyes brightened a bit.

"Oh, great!"

"Yes well..." she reached into her robes pocket and pulled out a small hinged box and a pamphlet. "Here it is. The pamphlet has all of the information you will need to know how to use it, as well as the rules set about by the Ministry regarding what you can and

cannot

use it for. I trust you will handle this object responsibly?"

"Of course, Professor. Thank you for your assistance in this. I truly appreciate it."

McGonagall gave him a curt nod and dismissed him so that she could go deal with the first years.

Harry quickly made his way into the Great Hall and over to the Gryffindor table where he found Ron and Hermione waiting for him. Ginny was a bit further down, sitting with a couple of girls in her year. Hermione asked him what that was about but Harry dismissed her question by telling her that they could talk about it later. The hall was filled with excited chatter until the time finally came when McGonagall led the group of first years into the Great Hall, lined them up, and then placed the small stool and the Sorting Hat upon it just before the Head Table.

The small rip in the hat's front opened up, startling the tiny first years for a moment before it suddenly began to sing. Harry tuned out the song and opted instead to let his eyes move along the head table. His gaze found Thor and their eyes met for a moment as the two shared a quick, secret smirk. Next, Harry let his eyes travel to Snape who seemed to sense it because his eyes instantly snapped to Harry's. The dark man glowered at Harry and his upper lip even turned up a bit before he looked away.

Harry had to swallow a chuckle.

His eyes made another pass of the head table and for a moment, Harry only knew that something seemed missing when his eyes fell upon an unfamiliar face. There was a woman that Harry did not recognize sitting at the head table in...

in Hagrid's seat!

Harry frowned, wondering where the giant man was, and who the woman was who was filling his seat.

The sorting began and Harry's attention was drawn to it. He recognized the names of a few of them. He knew that at least three of them were children of current Death Eaters. One surprise happened when a young boy, that Harry knew was the younger brother of one of the new recruits, was sorted into Gryffindor. Too bad they wouldn't be old enough to be any use to their cause, but these kids were fortunate to be coming in during a year when they'd get a decent Defense Professor. Certainly better than Harry had to endure his first two years – although, admittedly, Quirrell was pathetic mostly to prevent anyone from ever suspecting him.

The sorting finished, Dumbledore stood and greeted them all with a large grandfatherly smile. Harry heard Hermione suddenly gasp beside him and his eyes were drawn to Dumbledore's blackened and shriveled hand.

"What happened to his hand?" Hermione said in a worried hush. The hall was filled with quiet whispers and worried mutterings, but Dumbledore seemed to be pointedly ignoring them.

Harry didn't respond to Hermione's panicked question either, but was instead intently focused on the ring that he could clearly see adorning the man's mangled hand. Reaching out with his senses, Harry could feel the gentle Dark presence that still inhabited the ring. Tom's soul was still in it. Dumbledore hadn't destroyed it yet. Harry let out a small sigh of relief, but still felt horribly tense knowing that his enemy was in possession of a piece of his Tom's soul.

Dumbledore continued on, ignoring the whispers, filling the hall, and simply welcomed them and with a flourish of his hands, causing the tables to suddenly fill with food and he bade them to enjoy the feast.

Harry quickly found himself the focus of a

lot

of questions from his fellow housemates. Most asking about the articles printed about him over the summer, but some of the girls seemed intent on focusing on Harry's love life instead and asked him an endless series of questions about 'Nick'. A few questioned him about his earring, to which he responded it was a birthday gift. Hermione, it seemed, had been dying to ask about the earring but hadn't found an appropriate opportunity before that point, and jumped on this one.

She asked him why he'd gotten his ear pierced, about the symbolism behind it and if he was sure he was even allowed to wear an earring in school since it possibly went against the dress code. Harry managed to push his way through her questions and pacify her concerns with a few dismissive comments.

Once the puddings were all finished, Dumbledore stood from his chair again, waved his wand and all of the food vanished from the tables leaving behind spotless, sparkling golden plates and cutlery. The hall instantly fell silent as all attention was focused on the headmaster.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. For those of you who are just joining us this year, I hope you are ready to begin your learning experience, and for those of you returning, I hope you all have enjoyed your summer holidays and taken advantage of the opportunity to empty your heads so that we may fill them up again.

"I would like to begin by introducing our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Rowle," Dumbledore paused and waved his hand in Thor's direction. Thor had on a stern, cold, mask and gave the students a curt nod. A rush of excited whispers came from the Slytherin tables. This seemed to catch Ron's attention because his eyes darted from the Slytherins to their new DADA teacher and back before he narrowed his eyes and scowled slightly. Hermione was frowning lightly and glanced over at Harry with a worried expression.

"Next, I would also like to introduce Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be filling in for Professor Hagrid for Care of Magical Creatures while Hagrid is away on personal business. He will likely be rejoining us for second term. Until, I hope you will all welcome Professor Grubbly-Plank."

Dumbledore continued with the standard announcements about the forbidden forest being forbidden, and about Filch wanting to remind the students that casting magic in the halls between classes is against the rules. Harry wondered why 'personal business' Hagrid could possibly be away on.

"Finally, I would like to take a moment and discuss something that I personally feel is of great importance," Dumbledore said, his voice shifting to a graver tone. "It is my belief that a great change is on the horizon. There are powerful forces at work in our world, and we all must be on alert. For many years, those who would wish to destroy our peaceful way of life have remained quiet, and their prolonged silence has allowed a sense of complacency to wash across our minds and the minds of those who govern our world.

"But there is Darkness in the shadows, and it seeks to use our stubborn blindness to pull the world right out from under us. We must not allow this to happen. We must all remain vigilant, and know when to act. Keep your eyes open and do not allow complacency to blind you when Darkness is staring you right in the face. We teachers and staff here will always be available to help those who seek our aid."

Dumbledore paused and looked out over the silent room and it's thick, heavy, atmosphere for a long minute. Finally, he clapped his hands together and suddenly his face was genial and smiling again.

"Enough of that. Now, pip, pip! Off to bed!"

Deafening screeching noises filled the air as the benches slid back across the rough stone floor, and the hall was instantly filled with the sounds of chattering voices.

"What do you suppose

that

was all about?" Ron whispered.

"Isn't it obvious?" Hermione said, exasperatedly.

"No," Ron shot back with an annoyed glare.

"He's talking about

Voldemort, Ron."

"Oh..."

Harry and Hermione quickly went over to help the other prefects in gathering up the first years, leaving Ron to huff in annoyance and quickly tag along with Dean and Seamus instead.

The Gryffindors made their way through the corridors, towards the Grand Staircase, up and across a few staircases that decided to move as soon as they'd gotten off, and up to the entrance of Gryffindor tower on the seventh floor. They explained about the portrait of the Fat Lady and the weekly passwords and then gave a few informative announcements to the group of eleven-year-olds before splitting them up by gender and directing them to their dormitories.

Harry was already exhausted after his long and boring day on the train, but it wasn't over yet. The Prefects still had to do their rounds and Harry intended to take advantage of it to slip out of the castle. Just before heading out, Harry ran up to the fifth-years dorm room and directly over to his bed where he found his trunk waiting for him. He opened it up and pulled out his invisibility cloak and marauder's map before stuffing them into the inner pocket of his robes. Next, he grabbed the locket from his parsel-warded third-compartment and slipped it around his neck.

He hurried down the stairs to find an impatient-looking Hermione, tapping her foot on the rug-covered floor. Harry gave her a sheepish grin before following her out the portrait hole and into the castle to do their rounds.

It took nearly twenty minutes before Harry found an opportunity to split away from Hermione. He made his way to the second floor, just down the hall from the Defense classroom, and to the statue of the one-eyed witch. He spoke the pass phrase,Descendium, and it moved aside. He climbed down and sprinted down the long winding tunnel that would lead to Hogsmeade. He didn't go all the way there though, since he really only needed to go as far as the end of the school's wards.

He felt the tingle across his skin as he crossed through them and instantly pulled the left sleeve up to reveal the old leather cuff portkey that Tom had given him what felt like ages ago, now.

A hissed

morsmordre

later, and Harry felt the tug behind his navel and the dizzying spinning of portkey travel. He landed in the entry hall of the manor, quickly strode over to the time-turner room and used it to go back the full twenty-four hours. While in there, he also removed the glamor ring from the chain he had around his neck and slipped it onto his finger.

When Harry exited the small closet-sized room, it was no longer the evening of September 1st, but instead the evening of August 31st. He paused for a moment, thinking that at that very moment his past self was sleeping in a lumpy little twin-sized bed at Grimmauld Place in London. It was a strange idea to grasp, even with all of the time-turner use he'd done the previous year. As soon as he exited the small closet, he found Tom standing there, waiting for him.

The two silently stared at each other for a brief moment before Harry took a few quick strides forward and wrapped his arms around the elder wizard's neck, and pulled him in, desperately close.

"Is it ridiculous that I missed you?" Harry whispered as he buried his face into Tom's neck.

Tom chuckled weakly and Harry could feel the strain over their link. Tom was still feeling the stress of having his horcrux in Dumbledore's possession and knowing it, made Harry's heart break a little, deep inside.

"If it's ridiculous, than I'm ridiculous as well," Tom whispered back.

Harry pulled back and looked up into Tom's brilliant red eyes with a soft smile on his face.

"Is anyone here?"

"No one."

Harry smiled. "Good."

"Let's go up to the study. Or are you too tired?"

"It's been a

long

day, but I'm fine for a bit longer." Harry said as the two began to climb the stairs and make their way towards the study.

The two entered the room, Tom sitting down in his high wing-backed chair and Harry sitting down on the lounge. He reached up and pulled the locket off from around his neck and handed it over.

Tom took it into his hand and heaved a long quiet sigh. Harry could feel a small bit of relief flood across their connection. Harry was sure that Tom was extremely anxious to reassure himself about the status of the rest of his remaining soul pieces, and having one of them returned to his hands was undoubtedly a relief.

"Thank you," Tom said quietly as he ran his hand over the surface of the locket.

"I saw the ring on Dumbledore's hand during the feast. I could still sense your energy from it so the horcrux is still intact." Harry said.

Tom nodded his head slowly, still looking down at the locket.

"I'm going to get it back," Harry said with determination. "I won't let him destroy it."

"Don't do anything rash, Harry." Tom said sharply, suddenly looking up at the younger wizard with a piercing gaze.

"But I

have

to ge–"

"You will do

nothing

that will risk exposing your position. Our plans are too important to risk blowing your cover this early. I am not willing to risk you."

"And I'm not willing to risk you!" Harry shot back.

"I am not at risk here. My other horcruxes will continue to guarantee my immortality should anything happen to the ring."

"How can you be okay with this? It's a piece of your

soul,

Tom! It's a piece of

you!"

"The horcruxes serve a purpose, Harry. They guarantee my immortality, and as long as one of them still exists, my continued existence is guaranteed. Ideally, I will always have more than one, and it is my desire to maintain a seven-way split, but I can certainly make do with what I've got for the time being. I still would prefer to reacquire the ring undamaged, but

it

is not as important as

you

are. And maintaining your cover while you are stuck in such a hostile and dangerous environment is far more important that recovering the ring."

Harry was shaking his head slowly but suddenly something Tom had said caught in his mind. "Are you actually considering making another to replace the destroyed diary?" Harry gasped.

Tom sat back and looked at Harry for a silent moment. "I'm considering it."

Harry was shaking his head again, more vigorously now. "No, Tom, please don't! I mean... I just don't know... it just seems to me like you're mutilating your soul with all this. I'll admit that I don't understand what exactly is involved in this whole horcrux thing, or what sort of long-term damage it does to you, but it can't be good."

"I'm fully aware of the risks Harry, you do not have to concern yourself with this."

"But I do! You're important to me Tom! I love you for Merlin's sake! You're... you're the most important person in the world to me, and the thought of you hurting yourself for this is just... it tears me up inside. And knowing that if someone like Dumbledore manages to get a hold of one of these objects and destroy it means that a piece of

your soul

is destroyed... I just..." Harry huffed out in frustration and roughly carded his hand through his hair. "I just don't like it, Tom. It worries me."

Tom looked at Harry for a very long, silent moment, with an unreadable expression on his face. Suddenly he stood from his chair, took two long strides forward and sat down beside Harry on the lounge. With a natural fluidity that only came with two people who had truly grown utterly comfortable with each other, Tom wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders, and Harry melted into Tom's side and buried his face into the elder wizard's neck.

"Don't worry yourself over this Harry," Tom said in a soft voice.

"I can't help it."

"I won't make any new horcruxes for the time being, alright?"

Harry nodded his head, keeping his face pressed against Tom's neck and shoulder. "What about the ring?" he mumbled.

"We'll go after it if an opportunity arises." Tom said gently before bringing his hands to rest on Harry's shoulders and pushing the teen a bit away from him so he could look into his bright green eyes. "I want you to promise me that you will not do anything reckless in attempt to retrieve it."

"Tom, I –"

"No, promise me!"

Harry held Tom's intense gaze for several long seconds before he sighed, sagged slightly and nodded his head. "I promise."

"Good."

"But I still need to try to do

something. I can't just sit back and not even

try."

Harry insisted desperately.

Tom nodded his head and looked, unfocused, across the room for a moment. "There is a spell I saw mentioned in one of Slytherin's parselmagic books you copied for me from the Chamber. I know that the spell in question is described in length in one of the other books that still resides within the Chamber. I had skimmed it once back when I was a student but that was just before Dumbledore began to suspect the location of the Chamber and my trips down there, so I was unable to frequently return after that."

"So you want me to get this book for you? What's the spell do?"

"From what I have gathered from the description, it is a very powerful stealth spell. It allows the parselmage to phase slightly out of normal space. It leaves them completely invisible to others, and allows them to pass through most walls and doors – although some highly powerful wards will still prevent their passage. You cannot directly interact with physical objects while phased, you will pass straight through them. In order to pick something up or move something, you would have to cancel the spell and unphase, thus revealing yourself. But it would still be incredibly useful for both spying, and for sneaking into places you wouldn't normally be able to enter."

"Like Dumbledore's office," Harry said with wide, excited eyes.

"Exactly." Tom said with a smirk. "Once you retrieve the book, you and I will work on learning the spell and you can practice during your days here at the manor when not in meetings or dealing with other matters. I also intend to try and create a replica of the ring that can be left as a substitute decoy."

"Won't Dumbledore notice that the decoy is not a horcrux though?"

"I have no doubt that all of Dumbledore's knowledge on horcruxes is purely hypothetical, and I doubt he ever had access to the same manuscripts that I came across in my journeys. In fact, I'm quite sure I know exactly which books he

did

have access to, and they would tell him very little as to what exactly to expect in response to destroying the horcrux's vessel. I'm convinced I can sufficiently simulate the reaction he would be expecting. I can recreate the same layers of protections that I applied to my horcruxes, only without the actual horcrux to protect. In the end, it may still fail at fully convincing him, but the possibility remains that it may work. If nothing else, it will at least buy us some time."

Harry nodded his head, feeling a bit better knowing that there was at least some sort of plan in the works.

Tom's hands came up and cupped Harry's face, tilting it upwards and peering down into Harry's eyes intensely. "You look absolutely exhausted." Tom remarked with a slightly concerned edge to his voice.

Harry shrugged one shoulder and averted his eyes slightly. "I'm fine," he mumbled.

Tom sighed and stood up, pulling Harry with him. "Let's retire to the bedroom. I suspect we could both use a good night's sleep."

Harry gave Tom a small smile and followed him out of the study, up the stairs and into their bedroom. Tom stood before Harry and began to work at removing the younger wizard's school robes. Releasing the clasp, and then working loose the red and gold striped tie, grimacing at it slightly and causing Harry to chuckle.

"Never thought you'd end up with a Gryffindor, did you?" Harry whispered in amusement.

Tom snorted and continued to disrobe the younger wizard. The black robes were soon removed, followed by the white button-down shirt beneath them.

*begin lemon*

Harry's hand stretched out and began to undo the small clasps that held together Tom's outer robes and then began to work at the buttons of his high, straight-necked, black silk shirt. Harry's shirt was off first and Tom's hands began to slowly and sensuously explore his pale flesh while Harry's breathing became shallow and he rushed a bit to finish his work on Tom's shirt. Finally, he pushed it back over Tom's shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor in a puddle of soft, fine, fabric.

Harry's eyes hungrily drank in the sight of Tom standing before him. His flesh was toned and sculpted, flawlessly. He wasn't overly muscled at all. He was just

perfect.

And he's all mine...

Harry thought to himself and a pleased smirk graced his lips.

Tom raised a single questioning eyebrow down at Harry; no doubt sensing the possessive nature of Harry's emotions over the link. Harry just smiled up at the man, wrapped his arms around Tom's neck and pulled himself up so that their lips could meet.

The kiss was slow and sensual at first, growing in depth and desire as their tongues began to battle for dominance. Harry usually allowed Tom to win these battles, but for some reason he didn't want to this time.

His hands began to explore Tom's pale chest while Tom's hands ghosted up and down Harry's back before going down and cupping Harry's rear. He pulled Harry close, melding them together and brushing their erections together. Harry groaned hungrily into Tom's mouth and his hands became more desperate as his need grew.

Harry pulled back suddenly, and Tom actually growled lightly at the sudden loss. Harry smirked up at him devilishly and began to walk backwards towards the bed.

"I want to try something a little different tonight," Harry whispered.

Tom's eyebrows rose in mild surprise, but it was quickly replaced with lustful curiosity.

"Is that so? And what exactly have you got in mind?" Tom asked, huskily.

Harry's grin widened and he wiggled his finger to draw Tom closer. His interest obviously sparked, Tom complied, coming to stand directly before Harry, who then guided him to turn around so he back was facing the bed.

With a sudden shove, Tom was pushed back onto the bed. His eyes widened minutely, but there was also an inferno of burning desire beginning to blaze behind them. Tom acquiesced as Harry pushed him so that he would scoot further back onto the bed, and raised his hips into the air as Harry began to remove his slacks and boxer-briefs.

Tom's erection sprung free and Harry felt his desire and arousal spike dramatically at the sight of it. Every part of Tom's body was beautiful, and Harry was of the opinion that his cock was one of the most enticing parts. Harry moaned slightly at the sight of the mostly clear precum leaking from the top and quickly moved to straddle the older wizard.

"You're still clothed," Tom growled as his hands came up and grabbed Harry's hips.

"All in good time," Harry responded, looking up and meeting Tom's eyes for a moment and smirking, despite the heavy desire clouding his face.

Tom narrowed his eyes but nodded his head.

Harry ducked his head and began to kiss, suck, and nip at every exposed inch of Tom's neck, collar, and chest. His circled his tongue around Tom's nipples, played with them, and nibbled his way down Tom's ribs, all while slowly grinding himself against Tom's exposed erection, earning him some utterly maddening and delicious sounds, growls, and hisses, in response. Finally, he worked his way down, shifting his whole body and taking Tom into his mouth. The man's member was so perfect. The thickness to length ratio was just right. It was ridiculous that Harry could feel so attracted to a single portion of Tom's anatomy, but it didn't bother him any. He knew Tom was quite fond of his, as well.

He swirled his tongue around it, playing with the front of the head, and then the slit before taking it all in again and hallowing out his cheeks. Up and down he went in a steady, and maddeningly slow, rhythm, for several minutes.

Enough foreplay,

Tom hissed with an obvious air of sexual frustration and impatience in his voice.

Harry nodded his head, vigorously, as he was finally ready to admit that his own intense arousal was growing extremely painful with need.

Harry released Tom from his mouth with a

popping

sound, backed up off the bed, and a moment later had divested himself of his pants.

He straddled Tom again, came up and kissed him deeply. Tom's hands came up and buried themselves in Harry's hair, pulling and holding him close at the same time. Their bare cocks ground against each other for a few moments, winding the two of them up even further, and making both of them moan out in desperation.

Harry pulled back, panting heavily and looked down at Tom. They were both heavy lidded and intensely aroused. Harry grinned and with a flick of his wrist, wandlessly summoned the lube jar, a trick he'd picked up from Tom.

He scooted back down so he was straddling Tom's legs and the elder wizard eyed him warily for a moment but did not say anything.

Harry dipped his fingers into the lube and began to coat Tom's cock. His eyes glance back up to meet with Tom's as he felt the tiniest prickle of relief travel over the link. He wondered for a moment if Tom ever would be willing to bottom for him, but pushed the thought aside as something to explore much, much later in their relationship.

Tom sat up slightly and reached for the jar, making Harry blink in surprise but he relinquished it. Tom coated his fingers, reached around and began to slowly prep Harry, more directly. The angle was poor for deep penetration, but it was more than enough stimulation considering how exceedingly aroused Harry already was. His back arched slightly and his head fell back on his shoulders as a low moan escaped his throat as he felt Tom's long agile fingers probing his insides and spreading the lubricant.

Finally, Harry let out an impatient groan of his own and pushed Tom back down onto the bed. The elder wizard looked up at him and smirked at the hunger in Harry's eyes.

Harry shifted himself higher, positioning Tom's member at his entrance before crashing down upon it, impaling himself. He called out in shock at the intense, glorious, sudden sensations of pleasure and pain that shot through him. Tom gasped slightly in pleasured shock as well, and his hands came to grip on each side of Harry's hips, guiding him up and down, and holding tightly as Harry began a quick rhythm.

The two were moaning and panting, and hissing quiet unintelligible words, as their pleasure grew exponentially, and they felt the powerful waves of their combined magic swirling around them.

Each peak of pleasure was more intense than the last. Each nerve was on fire. The coil, deep inside the base of Harry's gut was winding tighter and tighter, and his cock was rock solid, and so insanely sensitive. He continued to move up and down on Tom's member, his voice getting louder and more desperate with each sequential movement. Tom began thrusting his hips up in time with Harry's movement and the two were practically screaming in pleasure when Tom's hand released Harry's hip and grabbed hold of his straining member instead.

Two quick strokes and both of their worlds exploded with lights and pleasure. Wave after wave of jerking, spasms of bliss flooded their systems.

Harry felt his body jerking involuntarily for several moments before he collapsed onto Tom's chest, pinning his still throbbing cock between them, and twitching slightly with the aftershocks of his intense orgasm. Even cool, calm and collected, Tom, continued to shake for several minutes with the intensity of it all. A moment after everything had settled down, Harry felt and heard Tom sigh in contentment, and wrap his arms around Harry's shoulders. Tom shifted his hips and slid out of Harry's backside, causing the younger wizard to whimper slightly at the loss.

Tom held Harry there for a moment before flicking his hand and summoning his wand into it. With a few quick swishes, they were cleaned up and the covers that were beneath them suddenly vanished and reappeared over-top of them instead. Another wave of Tom's hand and the wand flew back to the bedside table and he used his now free hand to pull the covers up over Harry's shoulders.

Harry hummed happily and shifted his body so that he was only lying partially on Tom's side, with his head resting in the crook of Tom's neck.

"Love you, Tom," Harry mumbled sleepily.

Tom chuckled. "I love you too, Harry."

Harry opened his drooping eyes and rose his head just enough so that the two of them could meet eyes. He gave Tom a wide, appreciative, yet soft, smile that conveyed without words, just how grateful he was that Tom was finally willing to say it back.

Tom gave him a smile in return and bent his head down and gently kissed Harry's forehead.

"Go to sleep. You've had a long day." Tom ordered, softly.

Harry chuckled and let his head fall back onto Tom's shoulder. Moments later, he easily slipped into unconsciousness.

– –

Disclaimer:

I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary:

Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta

Pass

by tanne

AN:

– –

Chapter 16

September 1st at the manor passed far too quickly for Harry's tastes. It included one meeting with Voldemort and a small group of Death Eaters, and a training session with the Intermediate group that evening. Before he knew it, it was just after 10:30pm, which was just about the same time that Harry had began to sneak out of Hogwarts his first go at September 1st. Harry waited until the moment he felt the shift in the manor wards that signified that he had just portkeyed in. He stood at the top of the stairs and listened as his previous self hissed open the door to the time-turner room, and the soft click of the door shutting behind him. A moment later, he felt the presence of his earlier self vanish from the manor, and knew that he had just gone back 24-hours.

Harry then sighed and made his way down the stairs into the entry hall. He pulled the left sleeve of his school robes up, exposing the portkey, and activated it. A moment later, he found himself back in the Honeydukes tunnel and began to make his way back to the school, all the while muttering about how convoluted the process was, and wondering how he'd manage to keep track of it all, and maintain his sanity.

About ten minutes after re-entering the castle, he met back up with Hermione, and the two returned to Gryffindor Tower.

Harry entered the 5th year's dorm room and gave a heavy sigh at the sight of his bed. It wasn't a bad bed. It was leagues above the ratty thing he'd had to sleep on at Grimmauld Place. It was a double-sized, four-poster bed with beautiful red-velvet hangings, fine sheets, and overstuffed pillows and a thick, heavy, comforter. However, it wasn't

his

bed, and it didn't have Tom in it.

He didn't have the locket to sleep with anymore, and he knew he had to keep his mind mostly closed off from Tom simply to maintain his own sanity. Tom would be with his other self right about now, and he knew it would be pure torture to experience Tom's lust, desire, or pleasure, not to mention any other emotions, while he was trapped at Hogwarts.

It was something that he and Tom had discussed as a part of Harry living every day twice in two separate places. Such constant and drastic time manipulation could be risky if not handled delicately. Harry would need to keep himself completely cut off from Tom during his days at Hogwarts, and could never let any information about the future slip to Tom when he was in the manor. It was a precaution that needed to be taken for multiple reasons.

With heavy feet, Harry made his way over to his trunk, opened it, and pulled out some pajama pants.

His dorm mates were already all asleep – they also having been exhausted from the long day of traveling, and not having the responsibilities of a prefect to keep them up the extra hour. Harry climbed into bed, drew the hangings around his bed, and went to sleep.

–

Harry tried not to groan too loudly as he woke up in an empty bed. He tried to remind himself that this was still a thousand times preferable to waking up at Grimmauld place and that the following evening, he'd be back in bed with Tom.

He showered and then went through his standard bathroom routine, using several very handy charms Tom had taught him over the summer to magically shave, brush his teeth, and style his hair. It wasn't slicked back, but his long chin-length fringe was now styled up around his forehead and back behind his ears, while the rest lay loose, just beginning to brush his shoulders.

He removed his glasses and cleaned them on his robes before putting them back onto his face and pushing them slightly up his nose. He frowned at his reflection, debating for the nth time just getting rid of the damn things. Tom had never had poor eye sight so he had never, personally, had to investigate in any corrective eye magic, but he knew there were a couple different procedures that could achieve the goal. Harry had just been so busy that summer that he hadn't gotten around to it at all. Finally, he sighed and shoved the thought to the back of his head to deal with another time.

He exited the bathroom and re-entered his dorm room just as Ron was groggily waking up. He didn't yet know what his timetable would look like, but his book bag was feather light and had an expansion charm, so it was possible for him to actually take

all

of his class books with him, and since he had no desire to return to Gryffindor Tower between breakfast and his first class, he did just that.

He told Ron he was heading down and didn't wait for a response before leaving. He passed Hermione as he walked through the common room, and when it became obvious that he wasn't going to stand around waiting for Ron, she scurried after him.

The two made their way down to the Great Hall with minimal conversation. Harry really wasn't particularly interested in making small talk at the moment, and Hermione seemed to sense that.

After entering the hall and sitting down at the Gryffindor table, Harry eyed the pitcher of pumpkin juice in front of him and grimaced. Hermione began to pile a few bits of food onto her plate before pouring herself a cup of juice. She looked over at Harry with a questioning gaze as she made a motion with the juice pitcher, silently asking if she should pour him a glass as well. He shook his head as he pulled out a scrap of parchment and a charmed quill that didn't need an ink well. He scribbled something onto the parchment, waved his wand over it, and it vanished.

"Harry... what are you doing?" Hermione asked, looking at him with a bewildered expression.

Harry held up a finger to tell her to wait, and an instant later, a steaming pot of coffee and an empty mug appeared in front of him. He sighed in relief and smiled as he poured himself a cup and added some cream.

Hermione just blinked at him, dumbfounded.

"Harry, what was that?"

"I sent a request to the elves," Harry said with a small shrug as he took a slow sip from his creamy-looking coffee.

"Harry!" Hermione said in a scandalized tone. "It is not right to take advantage of them, when they're already terribly overworked and –"

"Hermione, do you even know anything about the origin of house elves?" Harry asked, cutting her off.

Hermione's brow furrowed and she opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off yet again by Professor McGonagall showing up and giving them each their schedules. Harry quickly began to read over his schedule while aimlessly stuffing a few forkfuls of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

Suddenly he heard a rather insistent-sounding 'eh-hem' from Hermione and looked up. She was giving him an impatient and expectant look.

"What?" Harry asked,

"House elves!" she growled.

"Oh! Right."

"What did you mean about the origin of house elves?" she asked.

"Well, I don't know a lot of the details, but I'm sure you could just

ask

one of them and they'll explain it in more detail... Anyway, the house elves we have today are descendants from a clan of elves that turned against their own kind and openly fought against the High Council of the Alder Elves during the Tartessian War. For betraying their own species and choosing to side with the humans, they were punished by the High Council by having their magic permanently bound to the human wizards they had sided with, and they were denied the opportunity to move on and relocate with the rest of the elves when they all left. The new race of 'house-elves'now and forever would have to serve a wizard master, or else their magic will slowly kill them. If they go without a master to serve for too long, they

die."

Hermione gasped. "That's awful!"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, kind of sucks to have to pay for the sins of your ancestors, but they've developed a culture around their plight. They

want

to serve wizards. As long as they're treated with respect, they thoroughly enjoy their jobs and their lives. That's why the house elves don't want to be set 'free'. If they're set free, that means their unbonded, and their magic will slowly start to kill them. Honestly, I worry a bit about Dobby and Winky. I think they're 'employed' at Hogwarts, but they're not bonded, so I don't think they're safe right now.

"But the Hogwarts house elves who are bonded all seem extremely happy with their lives here. They live to serve the students and it actually thrills them to receive requests. If you want to brighten up their day, attach a note to your empty plates or fold it through the prongs of your fork with a little 'thank you'. They'll probably be so overjoyed, they'll faint when they read it." Harry chuckled and began to eat a piece of bacon while returning his attention to his timetable.

Ron showed up a moment later and McGonagall came over and gave him his timetable.

"Ugh... History of Magic and then Potions on Monday mornings?" Ron groaned as he looked his over. "And Divination after lunch... which

you

don't have to worry about – bloody wanker..." Ron grumbled bitterly at Harry, who just smirked back. "Followed by Defense in the afternoon and then dinner."

Hermione seemed to get pulled out of her deep thoughts on the plight of house elves by Ron's words and she suddenly began looking over her timetable as well.

"Mine is the same, except, of course, instead of Divination, I've got Ancient Runes," Hermione said.

Harry hummed in response, but didn't describe his schedule to them. Harry's schedule wasn't

quite

the same as theirs for Monday. His would start with History as well, but for second block he had both Potions with his own year mates, and Ancient Runes with the 4th years. Both of these classes were at the same time, so he would have to use his student time-turner for that. After lunch, he had Arithmancy with the 4th years, and then Defense with Ron and Hermione. He was looking forward to Defense, since he knew Thor would undoubtedly be a brilliant teacher.

–

History was as mind-numbing as ever, and Harry spent most of the class plotting different ways he could get the worthless ghost of a professor sacked. He wondered if Tom knew any spells for banishing the man's soul from the plane of the living. Sort of forcing him to 'move on'. He knew Tom had dabbled in Necromancy in his twenties, but the man had really only gone so far as to learn how to reanimate corpses in order to make his own army of inferi, and hadn't bothered to go much further than that.

After History, Harry followed Ron and Hermione down to the dungeons, having decided to use his time-turner to go back to attend Runes after he was through with Snape's class, but before lunch.

As had come to be expected, the Gryffindors were once again taking Potions with the Slytherins. Harry's eyes met for only a brief moment with Draco's as the group of students stood gathered outside the door to the Potions classroom. Draco didn't quite seem to know what to make of him and quickly diverted his eyes as subtly as he could manage, and instead, continued to drawl on about something or another he'd done over the summer to Pansy Parkinson who seemed to be hanging onto his every word as if it were her lifeblood.

Harry snickered and turned back to face Ron and Hermione just as the door to the classroom was thrown open with a deafening

Bang!

and Snape stood there, sneering at the group of fifth years, disdainfully.

"Get in here," he hissed before spinning around and quickly striding back inside; his black robes billowing dramatically behind him. As he reached the front of the class, and the students began to pour in and find seats he quickly spat out, "Don't sit down yet!"

The students paused, and a couple who had already sat, stood back up, waiting with confused looks on their faces.

"This year the lot of you will each have an assigned partner." Snape began and suddenly the room was filled with whispered groans and murmurs, that were instantly cut off by a sharp glare from Snape. "You're partner will remain the same the entire term. You will be preparing more and more complicated and

dangerous

potions as you prepare for your OWLs, and it will be necessary that you come to know your partner's techniques, skill level, and

deficiencies. I will also make sure that for every despicable failure, there is at least one person in each group competent in the subtle arts of brewing. I do not want any catastrophes caused because

someone," at this point he glared at Neville Longbottom, "was too incompetent to follow simple instructions."

He turned slightly and grabbed a roll of parchment off his desk. "As I read your name, you will take your seat at a table with your assigned partner."

Snape quickly began to read through the list of names, and it became obvious – much to the horror of the Slytherins and the disgust of the Gryffindors – that each pair included one member from each house. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor. The only inconsistency with this was that he paired Hermione with Neville – apparently he wasn't willing to force any of his snakes to endure the horror that was being Neville Longbottom's partner for a whole year – and as a result of this, he also put Tracy Davis with Vincent Crabbe, clearly, much to Davis' disdain if her expression was anything to go by.

When Harry's name was called, it was immediately followed by Draco Malfoy.

By the look of surprise on Malfoy's face, he clearly did not know this was coming ahead of time. Harry wondered what exactly Snape's motives were for doing this, but suspected it was to give Harry a reasonable excuse should Harry and Draco ever be seen together for some reason, outside of classes. If anyone ever questioned Harry about why he was talking with Draco, and apparently,

not hexing him, he could always claim it was something to do with their Potions class.

For the sake of keeping up appearances, Harry grimaced and trudged over to his new table with an obvious air of disgust and frustration. Ron, who was partnered with Daphne Greengrass, gave Harry a sympathetic look.

The class actually passed without any serious incident. Hermione successfully managed to prevent Neville from blowing anything up, although by the end of the lesson she looked a bit frazzled and stressed. Harry had seen her just

barely

catch a couple of his almost-mistakes, narrowly avoiding catastrophe. Harry did not envy Hermione one bit.

He and Draco spoke to each other as little as possible during the class, and the two openly glared and/or sneered at each other for the sake of appearances. Draco seemed to easily slip back into their old relationship, obviously feeling much more comfortable with acting that way towards Harry than the sort of awkward-limbo their interactions had been in since Harry's shift in loyalties.

Finally, after an hour and a half, the class was over and Harry, Hermione and Ron left the classroom together. Ron began to rant and rave about something or another, while Hermione played the voice of reason and pointed out the flaws in his logic. While they were thoroughly distracted, Harry slipped away from them, into an empty dungeon room, and quickly used his time-turner to go back two hours. He made his way through the halls, up the grand staircase, and found his way to Professor Babbling's Ancient Runes classroom. He got there with about fifteen minutes to spare before class would start but the door was open and there wasn't a class already inside.

Harry made his way inside and found himself a seat. He pulled out the assigned textbook for the second section of Ancient Runes and began to skim the first chapter again to refresh his memory. He'd referenced this book a few times over the summer, but mostly he'd stuck with the books Tom had picked out. This book wasn't

bad

by any means, but he still felt that Tom's were better.

But Tom's were out of print, so he could certainly understand the teacher's choice to go with this book instead.

Before Harry even realized how much time had passed, the chair directly to his right was being pulled out and down sat Luna Lovegood. Harry raised his head from his book and blinked at the girl before giving her a small smile.

"Hello, Luna," Harry said.

"Hullo."

A moment later, Ginny came into the room and sat at the desk left of him, across the aisle.

"Hello, Harry," Ginny said, sporting a wide grin.

Harry smiled back. "Hi, Gin."

The class filled in quickly. It wasn't a large class. Only eleven students, counting Harry, spread out from all four houses. They were all shooting confused looks at Harry, and there was quite a bit of quiet whispering among the others as they pondered his presence, but no one seemed to have the guts to just come out and ask him why he was there.

Finally, the bells chimed throughout the castle, marking the start of class and Professor Bathsheda Babbling walked into the room and came to stand behind a podium she had set up at the front of the room beside a large wooden desk.

"Good morning, class," she said with a wide grin. "Welcome to your second year of Ancient Runes! I do hope that you haven't all forgotten everything I tried to teach you last year," she chuckled. "As I'm sure some of you have noticed, we have a new face in our class this year. Mr. Potter decided to change his electives, deciding that taking Ancient Runes would serve him better in life than simply taking Divination."

The smug look on her face made it clear that she didn't have a very high opinion of Sybil Trelawney's class either, and a couple of the students chuckled quietly.

"Mr. Potter self-studied Runes on his own and took a placement exam during the summer to prove he was up to spec to participate in the second section of this class, rather than go in with the third years. Please welcome him to our class. I'm sure we can all help make him feel at home."

Understanding dawned on everyone's faces as everything was explained to them, and soon enough Professor Babbling began lecturing on review from the previous term and any oddness of Harry's presence there was quickly forgotten.

Once class ended, Harry, Ginny, and Luna left to make their way to the Great Hall for Lunch, walking together, and discussing the assigned class work. Professor Babbling had given them all a syllabus describing her plans for the entire term, including a couple large group projects that Harry thought sounded interesting.

They were going to be creating some sort of magical objects from nonmagical objects, by inscribing them with the proper runes and casting permanent charms. It was up to the students to decide what their objects would be, or what they would end up doing. They still had about a month and a half before they would even have to start on the first one though.

The three walked into the Great Hall and Luna split off and made her way to the Ravenclaw table while Harry and Ginny went over to the Gryffindor table. They'd been sitting down for about a minute when Ron and Hermione walked in. Hermione did a bit of a double-take seeing Harry already sitting down, and then looking behind her in confusion.

"Harry? Wait, I thought you were..." she trailed off, confusion laced in her voice and her eyes. Harry just chuckled, wondering how long it would take her to connect the dots.

"Hey mate," Ron said, also looking a bit confused, but sitting down and soon becoming too focused on the food in front of him to actually question Harry.

Hermione didn't seem nearly as easily distracted, but she did slowly begin to put some food onto her plate, shooting curious glances at Harry and Ginny all the while. Harry and Ginny, however, just kept on going with their earlier discussion about what sort of object they could try to make. Finally, Ginny turned to Hermione with a look of sudden realization on her face.

"Oh! You're in your third year of Runes, right?" Ginny asked.

Hermione blinked and smiled. "Yes, it's one of my absolute favorite subjects."

"What sort of magical objects did you make last year?"

"Oh, well, I was paired with Sarah Fawcett of Ravenclaw for that and for our first magical object we took a quill and put in tiny inscriptions along the center that made it so it would never run out of ink and would automatically perform spelling corrections, which was actually far more complicated to accomplish then it seems like it should be. For the second object we had to make we actually sewed runes into our robes that would automatically resize them as we grew, make them impervious to stains, even from ink, and runes to prevent them from ever wrinkling."

"That's not bad at all..." Ginny said, humming appreciatively. "Harry, Luna, and I are grouping together for our projects and we've been discussing different ideas since class ended."

"Wait, how is that even possible?" Hermione asked, looking confused.

"We've got an odd number in the class now that Harry's joined, so the three of us were allowed to work together." Ginny answered.

"No, not that. I meant about the Runes class. When did you have class with Harry? He had History with us in first block and..." Hermione trailed off at the sharp look from Harry, and the slightly frantically waving hands from just beyond Ginny's view.

Hermione looked over at him with narrowed eyes. Harry huffed silently and reached down, pulling the chain that hung around his neck up just enough for the top of the time-turner to appear at his collar. Hermione's eyes opened and realization suddenly dawned on her. Her mouth opened for a moment before she snapped it shut and she gave a forced smile to Ginny to try and mask her almost slip.

"Never mind." Hermione said quickly. "I was just confused."

Ginny raised a single curious and confused eyebrow but shook her head, apparently having decided that Hermione was just being a bit barmy and disregarding the whole thing. Ron remained blissfully ignorant of the entire exchange, as he had been too focused on his food to pay them any mind.

–

Arithmancy with the forth years was during third block. Ron grumbled as he made his way up towards Trelawney's tower for Divination, and Hermione headed to her Ancient Runes class with the rest of the fifth years, while Harry and Ginny met back up with Luna again and the three of them headed to the Arithmancy classroom on the second floor.

The class passed without serious incident. Most of the people taking Arithmancy were the same ones in Runes, so they weren't quite so bewildered by Harry's presence there.

Again, the professor – Professor Vector – spent a moment to explain why Harry had joined their class, and then handed out syllabi's to everyone before spending half the class explaining how the rest of the year would progress. The first month would be revision and homework to practice the basic equations they'd all learned the previous year to make sure they hadn't gone and forgotten their fundamentals. After that, they would begin alternating between assignment worksheets of Arithmancy equations, and actual practical assignments, putting all that theory and maths into practice in common magical situations.

Arithmancy played a large role in spell creation, and second term would focus a lot on understanding the fundamentals of how that worked.

Harry was actually enthusiastic, despite the headache he had at the end of class from the sheer quantity of different theorems and equations he had to memorize.

–

After Arithmancy Harry had Defense and met up with Ron and Hermione on the way there. Ron spent the entire journey to the Defense classroom muttering and complaining about how barmy Trelawney was, and how he wished his mum would have let him drop the subject like Harry had. Hermione promptly pointed out that Harry hadn't just

dropped

Divination, he had picked up another class – a

harder

class – in its stead. Ron had scowled but continued to mutter quietly until they got into the Defense class and took their seats towards the front.

"So what do you think might be wrong with this one?" Ron whispered quietly once they'd gotten seated.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, exasperatedly.

"The Defense teacher. I mean, everyone knows the job's cursed. Hell even Moody, who looked like he was gonna be alright, ended up dying over the summer."

"Moody dying had nothing to do with him being the Defense professor." Hermione hissed.

"I don't know, 'Mione. They said he died from a heart attack, didn't they?" Ron continued. "Awfully weird for a wizard his age to die from a heart attack."

"He was an Auror for decades though," Harry pointed out. "He was a right mess from it too. He'd been hit with so many dark curses and spells that he'd lost a leg, his eye, most of his nose, and his face was so scarred and messed up you could hardly imagine what he looked like before. No doubt all that action he'd seen over the years wasn't exactly good for his health."

"Exactly," Hermione said, nodding her head.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Whatever. But you can't deny that the Defense position is cursed. First year we get Quirrell who actuallydies

at the end of term, and was possessed by

You-Know-Who. Second year we get that idiot, Lockhart, and at the end of the year he ends up obliviating himself. Third year we get Lupin, and while he's great an' all, by the end of the year his being a werewolf gets exposed to the public and now he can't get a job

anywhere. Forth we get Moody, and he was just plain

mad, and just after the end of term, he's found dead in his home from a heart attack!"

Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes, but didn't present a counter argument.

"Charlie and Bill say that all their defense teachers had it just as bad, so it's not like it started with us. This has been going on for

ages!"

Ron continued. "So what do you think will happen with this one?" Ron finished, smirking.

"Hopefully, nothing," a heavy, rough, voice emerged from behind them, causing Ron to jump and

squeak

lightly. Harry had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

Thorfinn Rowle walked in down the center aisle of the room and came to stand at the front where he had a single podium setup, atop a wide, low stage that filled the front portion of the classroom.

Harry took in Thor with a small grin. The man's appearance didn't exactly scream 'teacher' to him. Of course Thor's face had always sort of screamed 'drill sergeant' to Harry. He was wearing a set of professional looking gray robes on his large, stocky form. His pants looked like gray tweed, while his undershirt was a darker gray cotton with a high straight neck that looked somewhat odd considering the man had such a thick, short, neck. He had an open-front over robe on with long sleeves, and tails that only went down to about mid-hip instead of dragging all the way on the floor like most of the other teachers. Harry knew it was for mobility.

Admittedly, it was Thor's square face, strong jaw, and short, cropped, blond hair, that probably played the largest role in his 'drill sergeant' look. A quick glance around at his fellow students told Harry that they were all equally impressed and intimidated by the man's appearance.

"Good afternoon everyone. Welcome to OWL-level Magical Defense. I'm your new Professor, Thorfinn Rowle. You will refer to me as Professor Rowle. Not just

Rowle, as I'm sure some of you will feel inclined to do.

"I have the heavy task of making sure that the lot of you are actually up to expectations and properly prepared for taking your Defense OWLs in the spring. Taking into consideration the inconsistent nature of your previous education in this subject, I anticipate this being quite difficult. This class will not be easy. I will push you and work you to the bone, and I will expect your full focus and dedication, and that you truly put forth an effort. I cannot help you if you do not help yourself.

"Because of the importance of this subject, not only in your overall education, but also in life, I will not stand for any troublemakers in my class. Doing so is a disruption to the learning of your peers and is not only a disservice to yourself and disrespectful to me as your teacher, but also rude and inconsiderate to your fellow classmates who are actually trying to learn. Anyone who consistently fails to actually

try

in my class; who brings down the learning of everyone around them; or who constantly disrupts the lessons, will be given the boot. I don't have time to put up with you, and your fellow students shouldn't have to suffer because of you. Consider this your warning."

Thor paused in his speech and looked out over the room of silent students, all watching him with wide eyes.

"I will be doing something a bit unusual this school year in an attempt to get everyone forth year and up where they're supposed to be academically. I will be running two extracurricular classes. Defense clubs, of a sort. They will be optional and the advanced one will be by invitation only. They will be for those students who are truly passionate about mastering Defensive Magic, and who are willing and interested in sacrificing their personal time in order to further improve themselves.

"I will be spending the first two weeks of term observing all of my students to determine who needs the most assistance, and who are up to the proper level already to get invited to the advanced group."

Harry shot a brief side-along glance at Hermione and could see from her stiff back and the bright look in her eyes that she was desperate to prove that she was good enough to get invited to the exclusive, invitation-only, defense club. Harry knew she wouldn't be though, and wondered how flustered that was going to make her.

After that, Thor began to describe what exactly the Ministry expected OWL-level wizards to know, as far as defensive magic was concerned. Then he went on to explain what

he

thought they should already know by now, and what he intended for them to know by the end of the year.

A brief glance at the room's occupants was all that was necessary to tell that quite a few of them felt overwhelmed by all of this.

Thor lectured for a while before assigning them a reading and an essay due at their next class on Thursday.

–

Forth block ended at 4:30 in the afternoon, so Harry had two and a half hours until dinner. He spent it in the common room with his 'friends' working on the homework already assigned. Dinner, and the evening hours beyond it, passed in a blur and finally 9:30pm arrived and it was time for Harry and Hermione to do their prefect rounds. By 10:30pm, Harry was in the tunnel to the cellar of Honeydukes, just outside the castles wards. He activated the portkey and was transported to Riddle Manor. He went straight into the time-turner room and went back 24-hours.

Just as he arrived in the past, he felt his other self portkeying out and knew it was now safe to exit. He made his way up the stairs to the study where Tom was already waiting. The elder wizard smirked at him as he came over and sunk down heavily onto the lounge and heaved a relieved sigh as he began to loosen the remove his neck tie.

"How was your first day of classes?" Tom asked.

"Good... exhausting, but good. Thor did brilliantly," Harry added with a grin.

"Of course," Tom replied with a dismissive wave of his hand as if he would have never expected anything less.

Harry sighed again as he let his head fall back onto the back of the lounge and Tom resumed whatever he had been working on when Harry had entered the room.

"You know, I was thinking about this whole 'living every day twice' thing." Harry said after a few minutes of silence.

"Yes?" Tom asked, still focused on his work.

"Well, I'm actually going to be aging twice as fast as everyone around me, because of this. With all this time-turner use, I'm going to end up living a year in the span that everyone else only lives half one."

"That's correct. I actually did the math, and you're sixteenth birthday is going to land around mid February." Tom replied easily, still intently focused on his work, and his quill scratching away at some parchment.

Harry sat up straighter looking at Tom with slightly wide eyes.

"Wow... that's sort of weird. Having my birthday in February... Do you know exactly which day?"

"Well, if you had turned fifteen on July 31st, and lived every day from September first onwards twice, you would turn 15 on February 14th."

Harry's eyes bugged out slightly. "Valentine's Day?"

Tom chuckled. "Yes, funny that. However, I don't think you actually did turn 15 on July 31st. You turned 15 about a week prior to that because of all the time-turner use you made last school year. So I would place your sixteenth birthday around February 11th or 12th."

Harry nodded his head slowly, taking it in. "And if I keep up this living every day twice then, I'll actually be hitting seventeen next summer."

"Yes, it's unfortunate that it won't be legally recognized. Your trace would have disappeared when you actually,

biologicallyturned seventeen, this next summer, however your trace is already gone, so that is meaningless. You'll still have to wait until you turn seventeen on paper before the Ministry will recognize you as an adult, or grant you an apparition license."

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed. "Well, that's lame."

"Yes, it is."

Harry chuckled.

–

The rest of the week progressed in much the same vein as the first 'day' had. Harry only had two classes on Tuesdays. Charms and Herbology, both in the morning. Third and fourth blocks were both free periods for him, and he used that time to continue working on his homework. He had wanted to slip away and get down to the Chamber during that time, but Hermione had stuck to him like glue and he hadn't had the opportunity.

Wednesday he had a free during first, Runes again during second, and then during third block after lunch, he had both Arithmancy and Transfiguration, overlapping. He'd gone to Transfiguration with Ron and Hermione first, and then used his student-issue time-turner to go back and meet up with Ginny and Luna to attend Arithmancy. That evening, Harry had Astronomy, which actually cut into his prefect rounds, but ended at 10pm so it didn't interrupt his schedule to visit the manor.

Thursday he had Charms and Herbology again, and then Defense in the afternoon. Friday was History, Potions, and Transfiguration.

Each night at 10:30pm, Harry would slip away to the tunnel, portkey back to the manor, use the 24-hour time turner to go back, and relive that day with Tom at the manor.

His routine at the manor was almost identical to what it had been during the summer, and it was a real mind-trip to alternate back and forth between a day at school and then a day back at the manor. He wondered how long it would take him to grow accustomed to it, or if he would just go crazy first.

He attended meetings, helped with planning, and continued his work assisting with the training sessions in the evenings.

The first truly surprising thing happened on Friday afternoon when Harry was making his way to the Gryffindor Common Room for his free fourth period, and he was stopped in the hall by some unknown third year who handed him a rolled up piece of parchment.

Ron and Hermione were with him, and obviously expected to be let in on whatever he'd been given, which he found rather annoying, especially since he had no idea who it was from.

Still, he was sure that Thor wouldn't get a hold of him by having some random student deliver him a scroll...

Harry broke the seal and unrolled it, instantly recognizing the long slanted script.

"Who's it from?" Ron asked.

"It's from Dumbledore," Harry responded with narrowed eyes as he read it over.

"What does he want?" Hermione asked with an obvious air of worry in her voice.

Harry glanced up at her and gave her an appreciative smile, legitimately thankful that she was willing and able to take Harry's mistrust of the man seriously enough to let go of some of her unwavering respect for the headmaster.

"He wants me to come to his office tonight after dinner. Says he has some important information to share with me." Harry said, as he looked back down at the short letter.

"You think it's about You-Know-Who?" Ron whispered in an urgent sort of tone.

Harry just shrugged. "Don't know. Guess I'll just have to go and find out."

"Are you sure you'll be alright in there alone with him?" Hermione asked, still looking worried.

Harry smiled at her again. "I'm pretty sure I'll be fine. My Occlumency shields are really strong and if he tries to mess with my head any, I'll know right away. I'll just make sure not to accept any lemon drops or tea, and keep my guard up."

"What's wrong with the lemon drops or tea?" Ron asked with a bewildered expression.

Hermione, however looked horrified. "Do you think he would tamper with them?"

"I hear the lemon drops are soaked in a calming drought," Harry said with a dismissive shrug."

"Where'd you hear that?" Ron asked.

Harry couldn't tell them that Snape had been the one to tell him, but...

"Professor Moody mentioned it towards the end of last year. He was also the one who warned me that Snape and Dumbledore both were masters at Legilimency."

That explanation seemed to be sufficient for them because they didn't question him further on it. Harry spent the rest of the afternoon and dinner wondering as to just what Dumbledore could be planning for this little meeting of theirs, and was feeling incredibly anxious by the time 8pm had rolled around and it was time for him to head for the Headmaster's office.

The summons had included a postscript mentioning Dumbledore's fondness for liquorish wands, and Harry took that to mean that was the password to get past the gargoyle. And it was. The gargoyle jumped aside as soon as he'd said it and he quickly climbed the moving spiral staircase and knocked on door. Dumbledore called him inside and Harry entered the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

"Ah, Harry. Thank you for coming to see me on such short notice." Dumbledore said with a genial smile as he motioned to the chair opposite his desk and Harry came and sat down in it.

Harry's eyes traveled around the room in a quick sweeping motion, taking in any potential dangers, and finally landing on Dumbledore's desk and widening minutely at what he saw there.

A large, stone pensieve.

Dumbledore picked up a bowl of lemon drops from his desk. "Lemon drop?" he asked.

Harry's eyes went from the bowl, to the blackened hand holding it. "No thanks, sir. Um... can I ask you what happened to your hand?"

"Ah, yes..." Dumbledore said slowly as he set the bowl back down and retracted his hand. Harry's eyes followed it and the ring – thankfully, still intact – until it disappeared behind the desk. "While I have some very important things to tell you this evening, and I have every intention of answering what questions you will ask of me,

that

is a story for another time." Dumbledore said with a calm smile.

Harry nodded slowly, fighting the urge to scoff or sneer at the man and instead keeping his face mostly blank.

"Alright, Professor... can I ask what this is all about?"

"Yes, yes. Right to business, I suppose. It's probably for the best. I truly have put this off as long as I could..." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily while he twisted his beard absently with his good hand. "Just over four years ago, you asked me a question. You and I were in the hospital wing and you had just woken up from your rather unfortunate encounter with Voldemort and Professor Quirrell. You said that you wanted to know the

truth. A terrible and beautiful thing... I told you that I would answer your questions unless I had a very good reason not to, and at that time, I

did

feel I had a good reason not to answer the question that you ended up choosing to ask me. You had asked me why Voldemort would want to kill

you

in the first place. Yes?"

Harry's eyes widened slightly and he nodded his head. "That's correct, sir."

"I told you that when you were older – when you were

ready

– I would tell you. And, while I still hate to do this when you are still so young, I realize now that I simply cannot keep it from you any longer. I realize that the trust between us had grown weak and that you need a sign of faith from me. And as such, I am going to tell you, Harry. I will now answer your questions."

Harry forced himself to swallow a thick lump and took on a look of hesitant anticipation. He had a pretty good idea of what was coming, and tried to imagine how his

old

self would have reacted to it in order to put on a believable performance.

"First, I will have to begin my answer to your question with a story. About six months before you were even born, I was in the presence of a Seer at the exact moment that she made a Prophecy. Unfortunately, I was not the only one to witness her prophecy. The other person there was,

at that time, one of Voldemort's Death Eaters. Voldemort's spy only witnessed the first few lines of the prophecy, but it was enough for him to take it back to Voldemort, and for him to then to determine who the prophecy most likely spoke of."

Harry swallowed again and nodded his head, as if to prod Dumbledore to continue.

"Now, Harry, are you familiar at all with a pensieve?" Dumbledore as he motioned towards the large basin sitting on the desk before him with intricate symbols etched around the outer edge.

"Um, I've read about them," Harry said, looking at it hesitantly. "You can store memories in them, right?"

"Correct. Not just

store, but also

watch. In fact, you can quite literally

experience

it. Using this, you can personally witness the Prophecy, the same way that I witnessed it all those years ago."

Harry nodded his head heavily as he eyed the pensieve with trepidation.

"Will you join me for a trip to the past?" Dumbledore asked, standing to his feet and motioning towards the pensieve. Harry blinked and then jerked himself to his feet. Dumbledore pulled a small vial from his pocket and uncorked it. Then he poured a silvery liquid out of it and into the pensieve. He used his wand to swirl and mix the liquid memory in until it settled smoothly along the surface.

"Erm, okay. What do I do?" Harry asked, faking ignorance.

"You just place you face into the surface, like so," Dumbledore said, bending over and dipping his face into the silvery liquid. Harry quickly mimicked his actions and joined Dumbledore inside the pensieve. He was instantly overwhelmed with the sensation of falling a great distance. Without a moment's notice, he landed on his feet with a jerk. It was the same sensation one had when dreaming of falling and then suddenly waking.

He acted more shocked than he was. After all, he wasn't supposed to have experienced anything like this before. He intentionally let himself stumble a bit before centering his balance and looking around the space with a bewildered expression.

The pair of them was standing just outside the Hogshead pub and inn in Hogsmeade Village, late enough in the evening that it was quite dark out. A slightly younger-looking Dumbledore was walking down the road briskly and whistling a jaunty tune.

"Now before we enter the pub, I feel there is something of importance that I explain to you," the older Dumbledore explained to Harry. "You see, I had been searching for someone to fill the recently vacated post of Divination Professor at Hogwarts. A young witch by the name of Sybill Trelawney applied for the position and I had arranged to meet her here this night for a job interview."

Harry's eyes narrowed coldly at the blatant lie, but it was dim enough that Dumbledore couldn't see it.

"Now, if you will follow me inside," Dumbledore continued on, motioning with his hand just as his memory-self pulled open the door and stepped inside. Harry and Dumbledore followed behind him and spent the next twenty minutes observing the Prophecy memory from Dumbledore's point of view.

Having viewed the memory from Trelawney's own memories had been a different experience since her experience was clouded by the Imperius curse she had been placed under. Seeing the scene unfold from Dumbledore's point of view would give absolutely no indication that the entire thing had been staged. Had Harry not already known that this was all fake, and that a true Prophecy existed, but

this

was most definitely

not

it, he would have had no reason to second guess anything that he had witnessed.

When the entire memory had played out and they were officially done, Dumbledore pulled them both out of the memory and they suddenly found themselves once again standing in Dumbledore's office beside his desk.

Harry sat down heavily in the chair, presenting a mask of shocked disbelief.

Dumbledore sat down and gave Harry a sad, regretful, expression.

"I am so very sorry that this burden had fallen upon your shoulders, before you were even born."

"So this is why he came after me? You said that his spy only heard a bit of it?"

"Yes, Harry. Only the first couple of lines. 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies …'

But he did not hear the line after that. The line that stated 'the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not.'

I suspect that, had he heard that, he would have hesitated before coming after you so quickly."

Harry nodded his head slowly and kept his head bowed low and his eyes unfocused as if he was deep in thought and going over the lines of the Prophecy in his mind. In reality, deep inside, he was fuming and exerting a tremendous amount of will power to keep from screaming and raging at the manipulative old bastard sitting across the table from him.

"I suppose it all comes down to the last bit though, doesn't it?" Harry asked in a hard, flat tone.

"Ah, yes...

'either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives'."

Dumbledore recited in a low, grave, voice.

Harry flinched and bowed his head lower – mostly just to hide the hard, angry look in his eyes. "So I have to kill him then? Kill or be killed?"

Dumbledore heaved a heavy, defeated sigh and his face crumpled in despair. Harry's eyes narrowed as he looked up at his Headmaster, but he managed to keep the rest of his expression blank.

"Oh, dear boy... I truly am so,

very, very sorry..." Dumbledore said. "This is far too great a burden to carry upon your shoulders. And one that you most certainly should not try to carry alone. It is absolutely imperative that as few people as possible be aware of the full contents of the Prophecy because Voldemort still wishes to learn it's full contents, however I will concede that it would likely be high beneficial to you if you were able to share this with your friends. You must, however, impart to them just how important it is that this remains secret."

Harry blinked at Dumbledore. He was honestly surprised that the old coot was actually suggesting he tell Ron and Hermione.Ron

especially, since the guy was so insanely unreliable and prone to bouts of immature jealousy and swings of public opinion.

"You're suggesting that I can tell Ron and Hermione?" Harry asked, just to make sure he truly understood the man.

"If you desire to do so. I think it would help. As I said, this is a tremendous burden for someone as young as you are, and it would only create a greater weight of stress and likely drive a heavy wedge between you and your friends, if you felt you had to hide this from those closest to you."

Ah. So that was it.

A shared secret was a great way to bring people together. And, hiding a secret was a quick way to drive people apart. Dumbledore wanted a force that would help strengthen Harry's 'friendship' with Ron and Hermione. Inside, Harry smirked, suddenly.

"Can I tell Nick?" Harry asked, looking up at Dumbledore with hopeful, desperate eyes.

For an instant, Dumbledore's expression hardened, but it was instantly gone and the twinkle in his eyes returned. His grandfatherly smile was hesitant though. "I would ask that you think long and hard before you divulge this information to anyone, Harry. I know you have a great deal of trust and faith in your friend, but there are a great many things that we do not know about him."

"Actually, sir,

I

know a great deal about him. I trust him with my life. I trust him more than I trust anyone else."

"Are you sure that is wise, Harry? Placing such a great deal of trust in someone –"

"I'm sure." Harry cut him off, rather sharply, but kept his expression mostly polite.

Dumbledore sighed and nodded his head. "I just ask that you be careful."

"I am. Constant vigilance, right?"

Dumbledore smiled, but it didn't entirely reach his eyes. Inside, Harry smirked.

"So, if I'm like... the chosen one or something, am I going to get special training? I mean, if I'm supposed to defeat Voldemort, I'm going to seriously need to up my dueling skill. And, what do you suppose this 'power he knows not' could be? I mean, I don't think I've come across any special super-powers, so do we have some way of maybe figuring out –"

"Now, now, let's not get ahead of ourselves, my dear boy." Dumbledore said with that grandfatherly smile and a gently raised hand to cut Harry off. "As it just so happens, I have a theory as to what the power is that you possess that Voldemort has absolutely no knowledge of at all."

Harry blinked at him, legitimately wondering what nonsense Dumbledore was about to start spouting now.

"It is my belief, Harry, that the power that you possess that Voldemort knows not, is the power of

love,"Dumbledore said simply before sitting back in his chair with a calm, assured smile on his face.

Harry just stared at him blankly for a moment. "Love?" Harry echoed dully. "You think the power I have that will defeat Voldemort is...

Love."

"I do." Dumbledore said with a very confident smile.

Harry wasn't sure if he should hit his head on the desk, or just

laugh.

Of all the ludicrous...

"Ohh–kay... So uhm... how can you be so sure that he doesn't 'know love'? You said it back in my first year too. That it's a foreign concept to him, or something, but how can you be so sure? And, how would I even use something like that to vanquish him? It sounds a bit... er... barmy, actually."

"Ah, but love is truly a most remarkable and mysterious thing. It was love, I believe, that saved you that night when Voldemort first came to kill you. Your mother's love and her sacrifice saved you from his curse."

Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from pointing out that he was fairly sure it was a carefully performed dark blood ritual requiring a willing life sacrifice, combined with the fluke coincidence of his mum and Tom being related by blood that had saved him and most certainly not

love.

"And as for how I have come to know that Voldemort knows nothing of love – that would be years of experience, and having known him since he was a very young boy. This actually leads quite nicely into the next matter that I wish to discuss with you."

Harry sat up straighter in his chair, seemingly giving the man his full, rapt, attention. "Yes, sir?"

"I would ask that, in the coming months, you come to my office for – for lack of a better word – 'lessons'. What I wish to do is supply you with the information that I believe you will need in order to defeat Voldemort. Will you be willing to do this?"

"Of course, sir!" Harry exclaimed, eagerly nodding his head.

"Good, good! Well, I believe that I have kept you here long enough for tonight, and if I am not mistaken, I believe you still have your Prefect duties to attend to. I will send another note when I am ready to begin our

lessons, if that is alright with you?"

"Sure."

"Good. Alright then, Harry. I suppose we will call it a night. Off you go."

Harry blinked and gave a hesitant nod. "Alright, sir. Goodnight then."

"Goodnight, Harry."

Disclaimer:

I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary:

Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta

Pass

by tannne

AN:

Got another chapter for you. I've got chapters 18 and 19 about ready. 18 is already off to my beta while I've got to do my own proof-reading pass on 19 and then send it to her. I'll try and post 18 in a day or two.

– –

Chapter 17

Harry quickly went through his Prefect rounds before slipping out the Honeydukes tunnel and portkeying back to the manor just before 10:30pm. He went into the time-turner room, went back 24-hours, and raced up the stairs to the study, where he knew Tom would be waiting for him.

"Tom, you will

not

believe what happened today!" Harry exclaimed as he jogged in through the door and shut it behind him.

Tom looked up from his desk with hesitant curiosity in his eyes. "Oh, what happened?"

Harry collapsed heavily onto the lounge and Tom turned in his chair to face Harry and more fully give him his attention. Harry went on to tell him about receiving the scroll summoning him to Dumbledore's office later that evening and then went on to describe Dumbledore taking him into the pensieve to show Harry the fake Prophecy and the mountain of ridiculous crap he had then spouted about the power of 'love'.

"So he's going to be giving you lessons on how to defeat me?" Tom said with an obvious air of amusement to his voice. Harry snorted.

"Yeah, but somehow I don't imagine he's going to be teaching me dueling."

"I wonder what he's going to teach you..." Tom mused quietly.

"Seeing as how he's got less than a year to live, and he's supposedly going to giving me the 'information I need to defeat you', I bet it's going to be whatever he knows about your horcruxes," Harry said.

"Yes, I suspect you are right."

"Hey, you said that one of your horcruxes is in the Room of Requirement, right? Something of Ravenclaw?"

"Ravenclaw's Diadem, yes."

"I think I should retrieve it. I don't feel good knowing it's so close to Dumbledore."

Tom nodded his head, looking thoughtful. "Yes... that is probably best."

"I was planning to go down to the Chamber Saturday to get that book. After that, I can head into the Room of Requirement. Bring both of them that night. I can even use my student time-turner so that my Gryffindor 'friends' don't even notice I'm gone."

"Sounds like a valid plan."

Tom went on to describe exactly how Harry would find the Diadem as well as a refresher on where to look for the book that would detail the stealth parsel spell that would allow Harry to 'phase'.

Finally, the two decided to call it a night and headed to bed.

–

The next day at the manor passed too quickly for Harry's tastes. He had quickly come to realize he distinctly preferred his days at the manor to his days back at Hogwarts. It was Friday again, and that night was an advanced training session. Snape was in attendance, which Harry was almost surprised by, but he figured that Snape had probably managed to slip out of the castle unnoticed while he was in his meeting with Dumbledore watching the fake prophecy in the pensieve.

At just after 10:30 that night, Harry portkeyed back to Hogwarts, up to Gryffindor tower, and went to sleep. The next day, shortly after breakfast, Harry gave his Gryffindor 'friends' the slip by ducking into an alcove and pulling his invisibility cloak over his head while they were distracted. He rushed off to Myrtle's bathroom and made his way down into the Chamber for the first time that school year.

The horribly battered remains of the basilisk were still down there and he realized that he probably needed to banish what was left sometime soon. He wouldn't be training down there anymore so he didn't need it anymore. It had been great at taking the brunt of his spells back when he was teaching himself Dark Arts, but now he had his training sessions back at the manor, and if he ever did need to practice while at Hogwarts, he could just use the Room of Requirement, or shrink down one of the dummies that he and Tom had made and bring it down here.

He walked up and down the length of the snake's corpse, still amazed that it didn't reek of rotting flesh. The preservation charms on the Chamber truly were a wonder. He had utterly decimated quite a large chunk of the snake, but he had left its head untouched. He wondered suddenly if any of the bits and pieces left in there would still be usable for potions ingredients. The eyes were gone – having been gouged out by Fawkes back in his second year – but the mouth was still filled with sharp pointed teeth and fangs. The venom glands probably still held stores of venom too. It was worth looking into at some point.

Another potential project for the Chamber that he had thought up over his summer was to try and get a

new

basilisk down there. He had asked Tom at one point where one found a basilisk in the first place – wondering if they could capture one in the wild or something. Tom had informed him that you didn't 'find' a basilisk, you made one. It was even a fairly simple process. Theoretically, at least.

All you needed was a fertilized chicken egg, and a magical toad. You kept the chicken egg as a specified temperature, and made the toad sit on the egg from the moment it's laid, until it's hatched. Then, theoretically, a basilisk would hatch from the egg.

Harry had blinked at Tom, somewhat surprised, and had then asked Tom if he'd ever done it himself.

He had, in fact. The basilisk he'd created went with him in several of his travels during his late 20's, but at some point, keeping it with him had become too bothersome and he had left it in India.

So, Harry knew it was possible, and it was another thing that was worth looking into, but at the moment, he had other matters that needed attending to first.

He left the basilisk's corpse where it was and made his way towards the door and small tunnel that went into Slytherin's study. He began his search for the book Tom had mentioned, using the search spell that Tom's soul had taught him the previous winter when he was searching for a solution to surviving the second task.

Finally, he managed to find it and stuffed it into his bag before heading back up and out of the Chamber. Just before exiting the stairs, he pulled his invisibility cloak back over his head. He hissed the sink back into place as soon as he was out and quickly made his way through the school up to the seventh floor, and to the Room of Requirement. It only took him about three minutes to find the diadem. Not only did he have Tom's description of where to look, he could also

feel

the power and presence of his lover's soul, the closer he got to it.

He slipped it into his bag and left the room. He made his way back down to the alcove that he had ditched Ron and Hermione from and used his time-turner to go back to just as he slipped off. He waited until his past self had run off under his cloak before coming back out from the alcove and catching up with Ron and Hermione.

Mischief managed,

he thought to himself with a smirk.

–

It was about an hour later, while Harry's earlier self was still digging around the Chamber, that Harry and Hermione sat down at one of the study desks in the Gryffindor common room with the book borrowed from the Black library that detailed the steps involved in creating the family tree tapestry.

It wasn't a terribly complicated process, however it would prove to be time consuming. What's more, one of the stages was very time specific. It could only be performed at very specific times of the year.

The first potion would take just over one week to brew, and it was fairly basic in its function. It was simply a test that would determine if a person was a muggle or a squib. Hermione would have to take the brewed potion and soak two pieces of parchment in it and then send them off to her parents. Each of them would need to prick their fingers and put a drop of blood on their designated parchment. The drop of blood would stay red and then fade to brown, if it was just muggle blood. If it was the blood of a squib with even the faintest traces of magical descent, it would turn the whole parchment blue.

The reason it was important to determine which of Hermione's parents her magical descent came from was because the next potion was slightly different, depending on if you were following the maternal line, or the fraternal line.

It was important that they get this started right away and get the results back as soon as possible so that they could start brewing the second potion on time. The second potion – the most important one – took one full lunar cycle to brew and had to be started on either the Vernal Equinox or the

Autumnal

Equinox. Fortunately, the Autumnal Equinox was coming up.Unfortunately,

it was less than a month away. September 22nd was the Autumnal Equinox this year, and if Hermione hoped to get the results back from her parents in time, they had to get started on the first potion right away.

After having read through all of the steps involved in the whole process once, they reread and took notes over the first potion.

"We need centaury, hawthorn, burdock, blood root, fenugreek, prickly ash, valerian root, and sarsaparilla..." Harry read off as Hermione jotted it down in her notes. "We've got all of that in our standard kits except for the valerian root..."

Hermione looked up and frowned. "Do you think the apothecary in Hogsmeade would carry it?"

"Probably, but the first Hogsmeade weekend isn't until the end of September, which is obviously too late. We could sneak down sooner than that, of course –" Harry let his voice trail off.

Hermione's frown deepened. "I'd rather not have to sneak out. We're prefects now, we're supposed to set an example."

Harry chuckled and shrugged. "Well, as an alternative, we could just ask Professor Snape for some. I'd be willing to bet he's got some in his private stores."

Hermione's eyes widened. "I... suppose we could. Do you honestly think he'd give me some?" she asked hesitantly and with an obvious air of disbelief in her voice.

The corner of Harry's mouth turned up ever so slightly, but he managed to squash the urge to smirk.

"I'll ask him, how about that? If it doesn't work out, we'll see if any of the older years have any and if

that

doesn't work, we can visit Hogsmeade. Alternatively, you could use owl post..."

"You'll ask him?" she echoed, incredulously. "Harry, you don't have to do that. Besides, well... Professor Snape doesn't exactly... like you very much... Look, I'll probably just do the owl order option..." Hermione said with a dejected sigh.

"Hold on before you order it. Owl order will take about a week to get back and if we have to wait for it, it'll be cutting things really close. Let me try Snape first."

Hermione did

not

look convinced, but didn't argue any further.

"Alright, so the next thing we need to tackle is where to brew it." Hermione said "I don't exactly fancy making use of Myrtle's toilet again..."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, definitely not interested in that option. Hey, we could use one of the empty rooms down in the dungeons that the seventh years taking NEWT-level potions use towards the end of the year to do their long-term brewing."

"Yes, but Professor Snape would

never

let us use one of those, Harry."

"Remember last year when I was brewing a potion during the winter holidays in preparation for the second task? I got him to let me use one of the potion labs then. I'll just ask again."

"But that was for the Tournament. There's no valid excuse for me doing this at all. It's not a school-related project, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's an extracurricular potion, yes, but it's still practice, and this is certainly not a simple potion. Heck, maybe you can even get some sort of extra credit for the whole thing."

Hermione just looked at Harry with a blank face, and blinked at him several times. "Are we talking about the same Professor Snape?" Hermione finally asked.

Harry laughed, which really only seemed to confuse her further.

"Just let me worry about it."

–

A few minutes later, Harry left Hermione as she went up to her door to collect her own potion ingredients to make sure she had the other things she needed while Harry made his way out of Gryffindor's common room, down the grand staircase, down through the entrance hall then down into the dungeons and towards the potions classroom.

He pulled the Marauder's Map out of his pocket, activated it, and quickly skimmed it for Snape's name. He found him inside a room down in the dungeons that Harry was unfamiliar with and assumed was probably the man's personal quarters. He wandered down several poorly lit, cold stone passageways, following the map through the unfamiliar territory until he came to stop before a large portrait that guarded the entrance to the room the Snape was inside.

Harry cocked his head to the side slightly as he looked at the portrait. It was a very pale young woman with long pitch black hair tied back low, and braided down her back. She was sitting in a rocking chair beside a window, and leaning on one armrest, her hand propping up her chin, and staring wistfully out the window. It was a gentle scene, but also had a tinge of sadness to it, somehow.

Harry cleared his throat, but the girl continued to simply stare out the window.

"Excuse me," Harry said, and finally the girl blinked and lazily turned her head.

"What do

you

want?" she drawled.

"I'd like to speak to Professor Snape."

She heaved a huge sigh before reluctantly standing up.

"Just a moment," she said as she walked out of the picture frame. A moment later, she walked back in and sat back down. "He'll be out in a moment."

"Thank you," Harry said, but she didn't seem to be listening again as she resumed her wistful stare out the window.

Harry rolled his eyes and shifted from one foot to the next for a moment until the portrait swung open to reveal Severus Snape standing behind it, looking at him somewhat incredulously.

"What

are

you

doing here?" he hissed.

Harry just grinned. "I've come to ask a favor."

"A favor." Snape echoed flatly. "Well, out with it. What do you want?"

"I need some valerian root for a potion, but haven't got any. I was hoping you'd be willing to lend me some from your stores. I can replenish it later if need be. I'm also going to need a place to brew a potion for one week without worry of other students disturbing it, so I'll need to be able to lock the door. I was hoping to use one of the private brewing rooms the NEWT students get to use. And on September 22nd, I'll need to brew another potion, but the second one takes a full lunar cycle, so I'll need to use that room again for that."

Snape just blinked at him. "And

what

exactly do you need all of this for?"

"Is that really important?"Harry replied with a simple calm smile that Snape apparently found quite infuriating.

"Well, in case anyone

else

actually inquires as to what you're doing, what shall I tell them?" Snape said through clenched teeth.

"Shall we go in?" Harry asked, motioning towards the room behind Snape instead of answering his question.

Snape's face contorted harshly as he barely contained a snarl and a sharp retort. Instead he simply grimaced, stepped to the side and motioned Harry in. Harry stepped through the portrait hole and entered what turned out to be a fairly comfortable looking sitting room with a couch, several arm chairs, a small table, and a

lot

of book shelves.

Snape shut the door and turned to face Harry with an expectant and impatient expression on his face.

"I assume this room is properly warded?" Harry asked.

"Of course," Snape said indignantly.

"Alright. I'm working on Hermione," Harry started simply. "She's a potential threat if she starts getting too suspicious of my behavior and the motives behind my actions – especially once the Defense Clubs get into full swing in a couple weeks. I've already got her boyfriend, Viktor Krum, getting her to warm up to a lot of Dark wizard ideals, while I slowly chip away at her blind faith in Dumbledore, but I still needed something to keep her busy and distracted. I've gotten her started on this big ancestry research project. Getting her to find out which side of her family her magic comes from. We're brewing a potion that will determine if either her mother or father are actually squibs. Once we figure out which one of them her magic comes from, we're going to brew another potion that will be used along with a bunch of spells and a small ritual, to create a detailed family tapestry going back a number of generations. The whole thing will serve a couple valid purposes. One, I think it'll help connect her with wizarding roots if she is able to associate herself with her wizard ancestors, instead of only thinking of herself as 'muggleborn'. And of course, it will also keep her busy and keep her mind occupied with other things since both potions require daily maintenance."

By the time Harry had finished, Snape's eyes were quite wide, but his face was otherwise blank.

"And

this

is why you need to use one of the private brewing rooms? To keep Granger

distracted?"

"Yup. But you've got to admit that out of all of the Gyrffindors, she

is

the biggest risk to me. She's the most observant and she's also nosey as hell. As far as she's concerned, anything I'm up to is her business, even though it's not. I keep her distracted, I run less of a risk that she's going to start poking her nose into my business where it does not belong. The rest of the Gryffindors are too thick to really notice or care if I'm running off and disappearing all the time. It's not like I'm asking for much. The NEWT-level students don't start on their projects until second term and we'll be done with the room by then. And valerian root isn't expensive or all that hard to come by, it's just not used in any OWL-level potions so neither of us bought any."

Snape's lip curled up in obvious distaste, and he looked as if he were suddenly greatly pained. "Fine," he growled out.

He spun around and the portrait door flew open. "Well, come on then, Potter. I haven't got all day," Snape said sharply as he strode out into the hall. Harry just smiled smugly and followed behind.

A few moments later, they came to a stop at the entrance to Snape's private store room. The professor muttered a few spells under his breath as he took down the wards he placed over it to prevent thievery and then he stepped inside. He came back out a moment later with a small jar full of valerian roots and curtly handed it over.

Harry took it and gave a wide grin in return. "Thank you very much, Professor Snape," Harry said with a small air of amusement.

Snape glared at him with narrow, angry eyes and his lip curled into a tightly restrained sneer.

He quickly pushed past Harry, closing the store room door and re-warding it before briskly stalking down the corridor and coming to a stop in front of one of the private brewing rooms.

"You can use this one." Snape said curtly.

Harry opened the door and stuck his head in. "It'll do. Thanks."

Again, Snape looked as if he were slightly nauseated before he turned sharply away and began to head back towards his private room. Harry watched him go with an amused smirk gracing his face. It was amazing how much his attitude towards Snape had changed over the past two months. He found he didn't even hate the man anymore. But, that probably had a lot to do with the fact that their positions had almost completely reversed. Before, Snape had held all of the power, but now Harry was the one in control. It was a considerably more enjoyable position to be in. Not to mention, he found it exceedingly amusing to mess with the Potions Master.

– –

Harry returned to Hermione with the valerian roots and then escorted her and her supplies down to their new private brewing room. Hermione was understandably stunned that Harry had managed to succeed in acquiring the potion ingredient

andpermission to use the room. She asked how he'd managed it but he just smiled and simply replied that all he had done was ask nicely.

Obviously, Hermione seriously doubted this explanation, but Harry had just chuckled and shrugged.

Hermione began to setup her new workstation and had Harry add the water while she began preparing ingredients.

"Honestly, Harry... you seem to have a much different attitude regarding Professor Snape than you used to. It's... sort of confusing." Hermione hesitantly remarked while Harry set the cauldron over a conjured flame.

Harry paused and looked contemplative for a moment before turning back to face Hermione. "I learned some things about him this summer. So, I sort of understand where he's coming from a bit better. Honestly, what I learned about his motives and stuff actually makes him seem even more immature and bitter, but at the same time, I've sort of figured out how to push his buttons without getting in trouble for it." He finished with a devilish smirk.

"Harry!" Hermione said in a reprimanding voice. Then her expression shifted to confusion and her brow furrowed. "Wait... how could you... I..." She paused, clearly trying to work out in her mind how any of what Harry had just said made since. "How could you have learned about Professor Snape this summer?"

Harry chuckled.

"Well, there was Sirius, but I really only got confirmation from him... You know Professor Rowle?"

"The new Defense teacher? What about him?"

"He's been doing private tutoring for years. Both for home-schooled witches and wizards, and also for private extra lessons during summers. Anyway, he used to tutor Nick and he visited the manor over the summer. Not really giving lessons, just visiting as sort of a friendly thing."

Hermione blinked. "Wait, so you'd met him before school even started?"

Harry grinned and nodded. "Yup. Anyway, Professor Rowle sort of knew Snape – not really all that close or anything, but they do know each other a bit. Professor Rowle was two years under Professor Snape when they went to Hogwarts. So anyway, we were talking about Hogwarts Professors and Snape's name came up and I might have remarked that he tended to treat me rather poorly..." Harry's voice trailed off as Hermione gave him a

look

that told him she suspected just how Harry might have described Snape's treatment of him.

Harry chuckled and continued. "Anyway, Rowle told me that back when they were all in school, Snape really fancied my mum. He and my mum were best friends up until fifth year when she and Snape had a big row and my dad defended my mum. My dad and his friends – Sirius and Remus, obviously, and Pettigrew – they used to pick on Snape mercilessly. Rowle said it was because James Potter fancied my mum, but she wouldn't give him the time of day. She was always hanging out with a 'Slimy Slytherin git' named Snape instead – so the Marauders targeted Snape for most of their pranks. It was a really nasty rivalry. Worst of all, Snape's Gryffindor rival ended up getting the girl. After my dad defended my mum after the big row, she finally started to get close and become friends; eventually dating; eventually married. So Snape lost my mum to my dad because he messed up and called her a mudblood in a moment of anger, and I'm the physical manifestation of everything he could have had if he hadn't fucked up so bad."

"Harry!" Hermione said in a reprimanding hiss. Harry just chuckled. She paused and seemed to be going over what all he'd said. "So... well, that's a lot to think over and quite a story if it's true, but I don't see how that um, showed you how to 'push his buttons' and not get in trouble."

Harry grinned widely. "He

loved

my mum, Hermione. I think part of him still does. There's also this big guilt thing I think he's carrying around... it's complicated and maybe I'll explain it to you someday, but I think it's sort of private for him, and I know he'd be really angry if I started telling people about it. Anyway, I think the biggest problem between he and I was that he saw me as the second coming of James Potter. The man who tortured him and made his school life miserable for years, and whothen

took the woman he loved away from him. Obviously, comparing me to my father is entirely unfair, because I don't think I'm much like him at all. What I needed to do was remind him that Lily Evans was also my mum. I'm not just my dad." Harry have a simple dismissive shrug as if that was all there was to it.

Hermione blinked at him before looking thoughtful.

"You've really changed a lot, Harry."

It was Harry's turn to blink blankly at Hermione.

"It's just... well, I guess you put a lot more thought into things than you used to," Hermione explained, biting her lower lip. "You think about people's motives, instead of just looking at their actions and reacting."

"I like to think of it as having 'matured', not just 'changed'. It's like I said back at Grimmauld Place. I've come to understand the importance of politics and political maneuvering. Understanding people and their motives is a big part of all that. It makes it a lot easier to deal with people if you put a little thought into this stuff. I was always

reacting

to stuff without any real preparation before. I don't like scrambling around blindly. This works a lot better. Maybe I can even avoid getting into so many crazy messes if I keep this up."

Hermione gave him a small smile and shook her head. "Well, I hope so. You've had more than your fair share of crazy messes."

Harry chuckled. "That I have. Now let's get cracking on getting this potion started."

Hermione smiled and nodded her head.

– –

It was late Sunday evening and Severus was in Hogsmeade at the Three Broomsticks, apparently enjoying a small glass of Fire Whiskey, but actually waiting for the right time to leave. He had a meeting with the Dark Lord that evening, however, Dumbledore had to remain ignorant of this meeting so Severus' departure from the school grounds had to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

Finally, the time seemed right and he got up to leave. Minerva and Pomona were still there, talking animatedly about the first week of classes, and which of the new students in their houses looked the most interesting.

They called out their farewells to him as he left and he nodded his head curtly to them before making his way out of the pub and towards the path that lead up to the castle. Once he had gone just beyond the edge of the little wizarding village, but had not yet entered the school's wards, he pulled up the sleeve of his left arm, pointed his wand at his Dark Mark and activated the magic within it that would allow him to apparate into the Dark Lord's manor.

Once in the manor, he fluidly strode down the familiar hallway towards the conference room where he always had his private meetings with his Lord. He usually arrived a few minutes early – because that was always considerably preferable to showing up late – and would wait in the room until Lord Voldemort came down with his snake. However, Severus severely doubted that the 'snake' would be making an appearance tonight. If the snake

was

absent, that would confirm that it had, in fact, been Harry Potter, all alone. He still couldn't fathom

why

the Dark Lord had allowed Potter to observe all of their meetings. He didn't like the idea

at all, if he was being honest with himself.

He preferred the meetings between he and the Dark Lord remain just that – between

he and the Dark Lord. It wasn't like he expected his Lord to keep everything he relayed secret, but he still found that he distinctly preferred to have their meetings without an audience. The idea of the audience being

Potter

of all people had been especially unsettling.

When he entered the conference room, he came up short for a moment, finding that the room was not empty as it usually was when he arrived a few minutes early. The Dark Lord was sitting at the head of the table, apparently waiting for him. What was truly unnerving, though, was that he was not alone.

Evan Harris was sitting beside him.

Snape swallowed his stunned reaction and quickly strode inside, closing the door behind him, and then sitting down at the table, opposite the Dark Lord and his lover... er,

apprentice.

"I apologize for the wait, m'Lord," Snape said bowing his head slightly.

Voldemort raised his hand in a dismissive gesture and the meeting quickly got underway. A few minutes in the Dark Lord asked for a status update on anything pertaining to Dumbledore and the ring.

"He called me up to his office yesterday evening to discuss it, actually. He wanted my opinion and expertise in the realm of Dark artifacts." Severus said.

"What happened, precisely?" the Dark Lord asked with narrowed eyes.

"From what I could gather, the ring is more than just a ring..." Severus hesitated and glanced at the Dark Lord for a moment, wondering if he would be let in on any details that could explain what exactly was going on. The Dark Lord, however, did not offer up any information so he continued on. "There is something magically attached to the ring that he wishes to destroy. From what I can tell, he already knows a few methods that will destroy it, however he is hesitating to do so because all of the methods he knows would also destroy the ring itself. For some reason that he did not disclose to me, he does not wish to destroy the ring. It seems to hold some other significance to him and he is attempting to find a way to destroy whatever is attached to it without destroying the ring itself."

Harris was frowning deeply while the Dark Lord's face was mostly blank except for the furious storm that appeared to be raging behind his eyes. It sent a shiver down Severus' spine. He also realized in that moment that whatever was special about the ring, Harris seemed to be in-the-know.

"You said he wanted your opinion and expertise? What did he ask you?" the Dark Lord asked.

"He wanted my opinion on whether or not I believed that soaking an object in basilisk venom would be sufficient when usually one would need to impale or fracture the object first. He also wanted to know if I knew of any suppliers that had any basilisk venom available."

Voldemort's eyes flashed angrily. "You will do everything in your power to guarantee that he does not acquire any basilisk venom."

"Of course, my Lord."

"If at any point you get the indication that Dumbledore is about to make his move to destroy it, or if he comes to a meal and is no longer wearing it, I want you to inform Harry Potter, immediately. Is that understood, Severus?"

Severus blinked for a moment, still finding himself bewildered by this order but slowly nodded his head. "If you wish it, my Lord, it will be done."

Voldemort gave him a lingering, narrowed, glare. "Potter is in the possession of a student-issue time-turner this year. Should some sort of emergency action need to take place, he will be in the best position to accomplish the task."

Severus gave a curt nod to acknowledge that he understood his Lord's order and at least slightly understood the reasons behind it. He was fortunate that the Dark Lord had seen fit to explain anything at all, really.

It was also quite a shocking revelation that Potter had managed to get his grubby little hands on a time-turner. Probably used his fame and all those connections in the Ministry he seemed to have mysteriously developed over the summer to weasel his way into getting one.

As much as Severus hated the idea of Potter getting even

more

special treatment, he had to admit that it could be considerably useful for the Dark Lord's plans for Potter to have his own time-turner.

"I understand, my Lord. I will be sure to contact Potter right away should it appear that the ring is in eminent danger."

"Good. Now, let's move on to –"

And so the evening continued. Harris spoke up a few times to Severus, but mostly he remained quiet or leaned in close to the Dark Lord's side and whispered his observations directly to him. Severus simply tried his best to pretend the man just wasn't there. When he let himself actually

think

about the true nature of these two powerful wizards' relationship it made him flinch.

It was a bit strange observing their interactions though. Harris looked perfectly comfortable at the Dark Lord's side. Not at all disturbed by his appearance, or the way his voice tended to hiss, or his unsettling, high pitch. He wasn't disgusted or frightened, or even

intimidated

by the Dark Lord.

Severus tried to fight it, but he found his eyes lingering on the Dark Lord's physical appearance much more than he normally would. Observing the intricate details. His skin was thin, paper-like, but scaly textured. Some scales were small, while some where larger. The wide, thin neck that seemed to have a small, cobra-like hood going from his neck to his shoulders. His thin, overly hallow cheeks that exaggerated his sharp cheekbones, giving him a skeletal-like facial structure. His flat expanse where a nose should be, occupied by nothing but two thin slits for nostrils. His flat, lipless mouth. His sunken eyes sockets, and the small almost constantly narrowed eyes within. Their bright red color with slit pupils. The white, bald scaly head and two little nubs for ears. He was monstrous. Combine that with the obscenely powerful waves of Darkness always rolling off of the man and he was truly a terrifying creature.

Utterly frightening.

And this man – this

Evan Harris –

was fucking him. Severus shuddered... and not the good kind, either. But, he had to remind himself that, according to Dumbledore, the Dark Lord had the ability to look human as well. He had heard that the Dark Lord was a very handsome man in his youth – not that he really knew much of any information about who the man used to be or how exactly he had come to be the monstrous form that Severus now found sitting before him. Or, what would possibly possess him to become this... creature, when he had once supposedly been so handsome and charismatic.

He couldn't help but wonder how this man, Evan Harris, could possibly have come to find himself in a relationship with the Dark Lord. Was it simply a desire for power? He highly doubted the Dark Lord would open his bed to someone who merely sought to use him for power.

He knew that it was truly none of his business, nor was there any likelihood that he would ever be

told

exactly how the two of them had come together since the only ones who knew were the Dark Lord and Evan Harris himself and neither seemed particularly open about such details. Yet, Severus couldn't help his curiosity. It was just such a powerfully bewildering situation.

Severus wondered if there was anyone else who actually knew about the two of them being involved,

intimately. Dumbledore knew only because he had somehow stumbled upon the Dark Lord and Harris during a private moment, and Snape knew because of Dumbledore. But did any other Death Eaters know? For that matter... did anyone in the Order know? Dumbledore was extremely tight-lipped with his own secrets, but he had shared this information with Severus. Had he seen fit to share it with anyone else?

Severus tried to imagine out any possible reasons Dumbledore would have to revealing such a detail to anyone in the Order and couldn't really think of any. The Dark Lord was seen as an inhuman monster by the Order. Portraying him as a man capable of being in a romantic relationship with someone would only confuse this portrayal. Dumbledore had no desire to try and humanize the Dark Lord in the eyes of others. He was the enemy and that was where it stopped for them.

Severus suddenly wondered... Did Potter know? Was Potter aware that the Dark Lord had a lover? It was Severus' impression that Harris lived in the manor with the Dark Lord, and Potter had apparently lived in the manor all summer long.

He shook his head to try and clear it and refocus on the Dark Lord and the information he needed to finish relaying. His mind was far too convoluted with unimportant things. The relationship status of his Lord was

not his business, and he needed to stop thinking about it.

Severus was endlessly thankful when the meeting was finally over and he was able to leave the manor, and his disturbing thoughts behind.

– –

The days continued to pass for Harry. At the end of the second week of classes, which was actually nearly 4 weeks since the start of term for Harry thanks to his 'every-day-twice' lifestyle, Harry and Tom were finally ready to make an announcement to the Advanced group of Death Eaters. The group, that was currently made up of 23 Death Eaters, gathered in the ballroom as usual and waited for the Dark Lord to enter and for the training to begin. But this evening started differently than had become usual.

Voldemort strode in briskly with Evan Harris walking directly behind him. They came to stand at the head of the room and paused as the room fell silent.

"Starting with tonight's gathering, we will be meeting twice a week until the end of October, and our focus will shift from general preparation, to a far more specific set of training scenarios and goals. On the eve of Samhain, we shall attack the island prison of Azkaban." Voldemort said in a loud, clear, commanding, voice.

A few low mutters broke out in the hall but they were instantly silenced by a sharp glare.

"The Dementors have already sworn their allegiance to me and have agreed to show us no resistance. Once I break down the prison's wards, we will only have the Aurors and guards to contend with, and since the Ministry is so obscenely confident in their control of the Dementors, there are few of them stationed on the island, and only the lowest of their ranks are sent to there. The post is seen more often than not as a demotion or punishment since no one in their right mind would

want

to voluntarily spend so much time around Dementors. It should be a simple task for us to deal with the Aurors and retrieve our captured brethren, and free any additional prisoners who are willing to swear their allegiance to me and our cause, from the prison and return with them."

After a brief speech, Voldemort set the majority of those in the room to their standard training practices just to keep them busy, while he called a smaller group of 5 Death Eaters forward to speak with him. The smaller group was made up of the most skilled and basically, the highest ranking, of the Death Eaters. They were his 'Inner Circle', and they would be acting as generals and leading the others during the attack. They were Lucius Malfoy, Barty Crouch, William Pritchard, Delroy Nott, and Emmet Yaxley. Voldemort and 'Evan' went on to explain precisely what the plan was, what each step in attacking the prison would be, and what each of the inner circle members, and what those under their command, would be expected to do.

They broke up shortly and each of the inner circle 'generals' called their group of subordinates forward and began to relay their instructions and what training scenarios to practice in preparation. Despite the suggestion that the mission shouldn't be a challenge for the Death Eaters, no one was naive enough to believe that it would actually be easy. It was

Azkaban, after all, and no one had ever even dared to attack the prison before.

Snape was dismissed from the next month and a half of Advanced Training sessions since he would not be expected to participate in the prison break-in. Obviously, he was not to mention anything about the prison break-out to Dumbledore, and he was told to tell Dumbledore that he hadn't been summoned at all lately, and that he felt that the Dark Lord was keeping something big from him. That way he wouldn't be suspected when the break-out suddenly happened without any warning from Snape to the Order.

When the meeting was done, everyone was told the next time they were expected to appear at the manor and then dismissed.

–

During the following week of September, Harry and Tom spent a portion of each of their days together at Morhda Abbey, preparing it for the move there, and for the Death Eaters who would have to live there once they were retrieved from Azkaban.

The castle had a fair number of magical portraits spaced throughout it and Harry gathered them all up and relocated them into the west wing that he and Tom had decided to designate as their private wing. Most were put in the large drawing room on the second floor that held the Potter Family Tapestry and the portrait of Harrison Potter. Harry had also located a portrait of Charlus Potter and Dorea Potter (nee Black), and spent one whole afternoon just asking them questions.

Dorea was never kicked out of her family for her ideals, but she was never very popular amongst her siblings and cousins since she wasn't such a stickler for pureblood supremacy as the rest of them tended to be. Charlus was clearly a bit arrogant and was rather vocal in his very strong beliefs in the Light agenda. According to Harrison's portrait, his son had rebelled a bit against him during his school years and went very 'Pro-Light' for the sake of having a cause to call his own. It was during Grindlewald's war, and being 'Pro-Light, Anti-Dark wizards', was seen as a very brave, courageous, and 'Gryffindor' thing to do at the time. Harrison put much of it down to peer pressure and Charlus' desire to be accepted amongst his house mates in Gryffindor.

Harrison, as his brother, and his father before him, had always considered himself a moderate who leaned a bit more to the Dark, and many of his friends and business associates were people he had met during his time growing up in Slytherin House – which included Dorea's father Cygnus. Dorea considered herself a moderate as well, but stood by her husband Charlus, despite his boisterous dislike for anything Dark. They were all interesting people to talk to, even if Harry was quickly finding that he didn't particularly like Charlus much, but Harry was glad that he was finally getting an image in his mind of his family history outside the publicly accepted line that the Potters had always been some sort of legendary Light aligned family, so

of course, it made sense for them to produce the Light's 'savior'.

One of the older portraits Harry found in the manor was of a Jheames Potter, who was Harrison's great-great-grandfather. It was a very, very

old,

and very

small,

portrait that Harry had found in one of the bedrooms on the third floor in the eastern wing of the house. He had relocated it to the drawing room and hung it on the wall with several others he had recently collected.

The portrait hadn't spoken to Harry much at all, aside from telling him his name and helping Harry find his position on the family tapestry so Harry could understand his relation to the man. But some time later, while Harry was explaining some of the current wizarding world's politics and magical views to some of the other portraits he had gathered in the room, the portrait of Jheames had guffawed loudly when he had heard Harry mention that the wizarding public seemed to be under the impression that the Potters were some sort of Light scion family. When Harry had asked him what was so funny about that, Jheames had said it was funny because their family actually descended from one of the most powerful necromancer's families the world had every known, which made Tom look up instantly in interest and caused Harry to almost choke.

"Necromancers?" Harry had sputtered as soon as he'd recovered from his initial shock.

"Yes! The Peverells, boy! The Peverells!" Jheames said with his nose in the air. "Ignotus Peverell was your ancestor! Didn't you know?"

"Who's Ignotus Peverell?" Harry replied in confusion. This was obviously not the proper response because Jheames seemed to puff up in indignation.

"Who's Ignotus Peverell?

The youth these days! Don't know a thing of their own history! Downright dishonorable!"

Tom had come up to stand beside Harry and was looking on with narrowed eyes and the look of someone who was deep in thought. "Was this Ignotus Peverell related at all to a Cadmus Peverell?" Tom asked.

"Related? Of course they were related! They were brothers! Two of the three brothers. Ignotus, Cadmus, and Antioch! The only three wizards who could ever claim to have surpassed Death! The most powerful legendary necromancers to ever roam the Earth!" Jheames declared proudly.

Harry looked over at Tom. "Who's Cadmus Peverell?"

"An ancestor of mine, apparently." Tom said dryly.

"Wait, you mean we're related on

both

my mother's and father's sides?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Apparently so," Tom said with an amused smirk. "If I recall correctly from my own ancestry history research, during my youth, my great-great grandfather – a Gaunt, and descendant from the Slytherin line – married a woman who was the last descendant from the line of Cadmus Peverell. Cadmus' actual place in my family history was so many generations ago it was near impossible to trace the connection. The only reason I know of his name at all is because the

ring

that Dumbledore has stolen from me was passed down from a

Cadmus Peverell."

The portrait gasped. "You've found the ring?" Jheames whispered and his eyes were wide with awe.

Both Harry and Tom's attention instantly focused back on the portrait.

"What do you know of the ring?" Tom asked sharply.

"It's the resurrection stone! Cadmus' greatest achievement! Out of the three brothers Cadmus was the most achieved in the Black arts of death. A Necromancer of the highest caliber! Ignotus and Antioch both created powerful magical artifacts that allowed them to escape Death themselves, but Cadmus' ring defied Death utterly by actually reversing his power! The ability to revive the souls of those who have already passed into Death's icy grip!"

"Wait... the

ring

can bring back the dead?" Harry asked incredulously. "You said that Ignotus and Antioch created artifacts too? What were they?"

"Antioch was said to have created a wand so powerful that no one could ever defeat the wielder in a head-to-head duel. He called it the

Death Stick. It was supposedly made of elder wood and Thestral hair, but had so much more to it than that... as for our ancestor, boy... Ignotus created an invisibility cloak so powerful that even Death could not find you beneath it. A cloak that would never fade or weaken. I never tested it while I lived, but I heard that my own grandfather even hid beneath it and took a killing curse and yet he survived. Death was not able to find him to take his soul so he remained alive."

Harry choked on his own breath. Tom's eyes grew even wider and his face was actually slacked a bit with shock.

"The cloak has been passed down in our family for centuries. From father to eldest son." Jheames continued and then he paused and gave Harry a piercing look. "It hasn't been lost, has it, boy?"

"No. Ah... actually, I have it right here." Harry paused, went over to a love seat where he'd left his bag earlier and pulled the cloak out.

Tom was instantly by his side, suddenly far more interested in Harry's cloak than he had ever been before. Harry allowed Tom to take it to examine it closely. His brilliant eyes taking in every detail of the fine silvery material of the cloak's inner lining and then examining the invisible exterior. He waved his wand over it and began muttering spells and looking over the results of whatever detection spells he was casting.

Harry turned his attention back to Jheames's tiny portrait. "So these Peverell brothers were necromancers?"

"That they were, childe. Although I doubt many remember it that way these days. There was some ridiculous children's story written about their creations. The cloak, the stone, and the unbeatable wand. Made it out to sound like the items had been gifted to the brothers by Death, rather than they having been the creation of the brothers themselves."

"But they weren't gifts." Harry clarified.

"Of course not! The brothers created them! They were great, powerful, wizards! It takes an incredible level of brilliance and tremendous power to create such amazing magical artifacts as these. There are those people out there that would refuse to believe that any individual wizard could ever be capable of such a feat. They insist on giving the objects a truly omnipotent origin. 'Something so powerful would have had to be created by

Death'

or some such rot. No. No, boy. Our ancestor

createdthat cloak! You should keep it with you and always treasure just how incredible a thing it is. It is a symbol of just how

powerfula bloodline you descend from!"

Harry nodded his head dumbly as he looked back at Tom, still examining the cloak with intense interest.

A cloak that could protect the person beneath it from the killing curse? Was that even possible? Was there a way to test it?

Harry realized suddenly that there

was

a way to test it. Just put someone under the damn thing and shoot a killing curse at them. It could be anyone really. They could just go pick up some random muggle and test it that way, in fact. Or even an animal. He'd seen some geese in the lake...

"Kozy!" Harry called out, calling one of the more recently acquired house elves to him. The small young house elf appeared before him an instant later, bowing low and asking her master what he needed.

"Go fetch one of the geese I saw swimming on the lake. Don't kill it, but you can stun it." Harry said and Tom looked up at him as understanding flashed across his eyes.

"Yes master. Kozy will be fetching you a goosey right away, sir," the elf said bowing low again and quickly popping away.

"You intend to test it on a goose?" Tom asked, walking closer.

Harry shrugged. "Proof-of-theory test. If the goose dies, then it's probably just an old legend. If the goose lives, we can test it on something more advanced like a muggle or something."

Tom chuckled and then looked thoughtful. "Are you sure you're not worried about damaging the cloak?"

Harry paused and frowned. "Hmm... hadn't thought of that."

A moment later Kozy appeared holding a limp goose by the neck. "Master's goosey," the little elf said, giving a small curtsy.

"Thank you Kozy," Harry said dismissively.

"Is Masters needings anything elses from Kozy?"

"No, Kozy. You may go."

The little elf bowed and disappeared with a soft

pop.

Harry looked at the unconscious goose on the floor and then over at the cloak in Tom's hands and back again, frowning slightly. Finally he sighed and shrugged. "If it doesn't work, we won't try it again. The killing curse doesn't generally cause physical damage, right? It just releases the soul from the body."

"That is true," Tom said with a nod. "Do you wish to place it?" Tom asked offering the cloak to Harry. Harry took it and laid it over the unconscious goose on the floor. He returned to Tom's side, withdrew his cypress wand, aimed it at the spot on the floor where he knew the invisible goose was laying and calmly shot off a killing curse.

The green light flashed brightly and illuminated the drawing room for a moment before it impacted with seemingly

nothing

and was gone. Harry and Tom walked back over to the goose. Harry bent over and picked up the cloak, examining it's under lining for any signs of damage while Tom waved his wand over the bird. Harry glanced over as Tom cast an enervate and the goose's head began to wobble and lift off the ground. The bird looked thoroughly disoriented and when it tried to stand it fell over a few times.

Tom stunned it again and the two wizards looked at each other with wide, disbelieving, eyes before looking back down in awe at the cloak in Harry's hands.

"Bloody hell." Harry whispered.

His cloak could block the killing curse.

And apparently, Tom's ring could bring back the dead.

–

They kept the goose in a small pen in the cellar where Tom was in the process of setting up their future potions and work lab. Every day when they visited the Abbey to continue their work setting it and the rest of the castle up, they would observe the goose for any signs that it was going to either die, or recover. It continued to be disoriented for several days, but by the end of the week, it appeared to be in perfect health.

Jheames' portrait seemed rather smug when Harry had gone back up to the west wing drawing room on the second floor and informed him that the bird truly had survived. He said it was just a testament to the incredible power of their ancestor and his utter brilliance.

Tom had also spent some time trying to research the 'resurrection stone' that Jheames had mentioned. They realized rather quickly that this could be why Dumbledore was trying so hard to find a way to destroy the horcrux without harming the actual ring.

"You know, Tom... I was thinking," Harry mused one day while the pair was eating lunch back in the manor.

"Yes, love?" Tom asked absently.

"Well, Dumbledore had my father's cloak all those years while I was with the Dursleys. He said that he'd had borrowed it from my father so he could study it."

Tom looked up and silently told Harry to continue with his eyes.

"Dumbledore knows several very powerful disillusionment spells. He can make himself invisible without the need for an invisibility cloak, so he never needed it for anything like that. But what reason would he have to want to borrow it so he could 'study' it, unless he realized it wasn't just a normal demiguise cloak?"

"You think he knew what it was. That he knew it was the cloak from the legendary Peverell brothers?" Tom concluded.

"I think it's a very reasonable explanation. Which would mean that he knows about the Peverells, and thus, that he would probably also know about the ring."

Tom sat back in his chair and nodded. "It adds up. And Dumbledore seems the type to find value in a stone that can bring back the dead."

– –

Harry had spent his Hogwarts-days during that week since Jheames' revelation, closely observing Dumbledore whenever he had the chance. So far the man

always

wore the ring. Every meal, Dumbledore would sit at the head table with the ring firmly in place on his blackened, shriveled hand.

Every day, Harry would reach out subtly with his magic and check to make sure that Tom's soul was still intact inside the ring, and so far, much to his relief, it was.

– –

His first three weeks worth of time at Hogwarts wasn't something Harry would have considered difficult at all, however, it wasn't particularly interesting or challenging either – especially in comparison to his alternating days spent with Tom and the Death Eaters. While at Hogwarts, he forced himself to study ahead in all of his classes so he could keep his grades up. He no longer had his companion to whisper the answers to Snape's questions in class, and no amount of natural proficiency in practical magic helped him with classes like Potions, Arithmancy, Runes, History and Astronomy. He had to actually

study –

read his texts, and take proper notes – to maintain good performance in those subjects. Unlike Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense, which focused a lot more on practical demonstrations of magic – which he almost always mastered after just one attempt, or was already familiar with from his self-study and his training with Tom.

And while he wanted to be good at magic for his own personal reasons and benefit, he also found himself wanting to get the best marks he could in order to impress Tom. Tom was a genius, both magically and intellectually, and Harry didn't delude himself into thinking that he would ever completely match up to the man, but he still didn't want to disappoint him by having poor academic performance. This

was

his OWLs year, and he had high hopes that, despite all that Harry had going on, he would get Outstandings in every subject he was taking.

And so during his alternating days at Hogwarts, he spent most of his time, outside of classes, studying. Hermione loved it, of course. He was spending a

lot

of his time with her, in fact, thanks to both his studious attitude, and the fact that he had helped her with brewing the potion for her family tree project. They had finished it and sent the treated strips of parchment off to Hermione's parents. Harry had ended up having to distract Hermione with extra library and study time just to get her to settle down from all her nerves.

Ginny had helped a lot though with calming Hermione down, and thanks to Harry now taking two of his classes with her, Harry was spending even more time with the youngest Weasley than he had the previous year. Whenever in the library together, and Luna happened to pass by, she was invited to join them, making Harry's normal study group now comprised of three girls, and himself. Hermione had been a bit cold with the blond Ravenclaw in the beginning, and the two still tended to butt heads from time to time, but Harry had managed to establish a nice balance in the group and headed off most arguments before they started.

Ron, obviously, felt very out of place with them. He still had little-to-no interest in putting any serious effort into his academics, and it appeared he had hoped that Harry would have given up on his crazed 'pursuit of better grades' that he had developed the previous year because of the Tournament. Now there was no longer a tournament. No longer impending doom, or the looming threat of deadly creatures to motivate him. Surely Harry would return to normal, now? But obviously not. And Ron had quickly given up his continued attempts to drag Harry off to do more 'interesting' things, and left him to the girls.

He was, instead, spending a lot of his time with Dean and Seamus again. By the end of the third week of classes, Ron was sitting, almost exclusively, with the other two boys, and only occasionally coming to speak with Harry about specific things or to ask for help with some assignment he had forgotten about or put off until the last minute.

One of those 'fun and interesting' things that Ron still bothered to speak with Harry about was Quidditch try-outs, which were being held that coming weekend. Ron was incredibly eager, but also obviously nervous. He was going to be trying out for the only open spot on the team – Keeper. It had previously been held by Oliver Wood, the old captain. But Oliver had graduated the previous year, leaving his position now open to whoever could earn it.

The new captain of the team was Angelina Johnson, the most senior member of the team, being a seventh year, and one of the Chasers. She was holding tryouts that coming Sunday to fill the open spot, but also for some extra reserve team members in the case of anyone being sick, or injured during a game.

Harry found himself apathetic about it all, but tired not to let it be too obvious since both Ron, and Ginny were excited about the coming Quidditch season; not to mention most of their housemates – and they expected Harry to be excited as well. He wasn't, though. And in fact, Harry had quite enjoyed the previous three weeks of Hogwarts time without any worry about Quidditch practices to concern himself with, but he knew that as soon as the team had a Keeper, practices would start in earnest.

Just one more thing to add to his already overly-full plate.

– –

Disclaimer:

I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary:

Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta

Pass

by tannne

– –

Chapter 18

By September 18th, Hermione had gotten the two pieces of parchment back from her parents. It turned out that her mother was a squib while her father was just a muggle. Hermione had been incredibly excited to have this tangible evidence that she truly did descend from a magical lineage and that she hadn't just popped into existence as some sort of freakish anomaly.

Harry and Hermione already had all of the supplies for the second potion ready. There were only two ingredients differences between the maternal and fraternal versions of the tapestry potions, and now that they knew it was the maternal version they needed, they were all set to start brewing on the autumnal equinox on the 22nd of September.

That afternoon they had Defense class again, and Harry knew this was the day that Thor was going to officially announce the start of the Defense clubs. He had waited this long so that he could complete some additional observations of his own of the students, but also to give the student body as a whole some time to adjust being back in school. He'd put up a sheet that people who were interested in the club could sign. Most of them were going to end up in the 'Intermediate club'. All of the Slytherins had signed up, mostly because their parents had told them to, and the rest had been quietly nudged by their housemates. Most of

them

were headed for the 'Advanced club'.

Harry had stayed after Defense class on Monday to share some of his opinions and observations with Thor on the students who had signed up. He'd actually been a bit surprised by some of the names that had appeared on the sign-up sheet. The most surprising of them all was Neville Longbottom. Harry had to admit that even after sharing a dorm room with the quiet boy for more than four years, he barely knew him. Hardly anyone did, really. Neville was just the quiet, shy boy, who messed up in Potions, was terrified of Snape, and spent a lot of his free time in the greenhouses and talking with Professor Sprout.

Out of all of the classes that Neville wasn't very good at, his two worst were Potions and Defense. Harry didn't see Neville has actually having a strong interest in Defense as a subject, but he imagined that Neville probably signed up for the club because he felt he needed the extra tutoring in the subject.

Hermione had signed up for the club too, of course, and Harry knew she was eagerly expecting acceptance into the Advanced group. Harry had tried to remind her that, while she had always been good at answering questions and completing her essays with good marks, her practical performance of the material had always been a little iffy in their DADA classes. Defense had never been one of her top subjects, and was the

only

class that Harry had been able to get better results in, even before his magical reserves were released after he stopped suppressing Tom's soul the previous fall.

She had gotten a bit disgruntled with his suggestion that she might not be good enough for the advanced group but Harry had tried to placate her by pointing out he just didn't want her to get disappointed if things didn't go as she expected. She'd looked at him oddly for a moment but before she could question him further, Professor Rowle had entered the classroom and called the class to order.

"Today I wanted to officially announce the start of the Defense clubs," Professor Rowle started as the students settled into their desks and quieted down.

"Quite a few of you signed up to participate and I am very happy with all the interest I have gotten for this. Those who were selected for the Advanced group will be notified individually with specific instructions for the time and place of the meeting. Unless you receive one of these notices, simply come to the Intermediate group meeting that will be held Saturday afternoon from two o'clock until four. The club will be held in one of the larger, unused, classrooms. It's on the third floor, right-hand side. Four doors down after exiting the grand staircase, just before the turn-off into the Serpentine Corridor. Does anyone not know what room I'm talking about?"

He paused and looked around, but no one spoke up so he nodded and continued.

"Alright then. Now that that's out of the way, let's continue with the class then, shall we?"

And with that, Professor Rowle slipped back into the class work they'd begun discussing on Monday and there was no further discussion on the club.

Hermione anxiously kept a lookout for her notice for the Advanced club for the rest of Thursday, and all of Friday. When Saturday morning rolled around, she was clearly disgruntled at not having gotten it, and grudgingly followed Harry out of the Common Room and down to the third-floor classroom that the club meeting was being held in.

Of course, during all of these days, Harry had been doing his alternating back and forth between the manor and Hogwarts, so it had been six days, instead of three for him. After all this time, he'd slipped into a fairly comfortable routine and was even growing accustomed to how odd it was to be living twice as many days as everyone around him.

He was actually in an exceedingly good mood that morning because the previous night he and Tom had spent the night in their new bedroom in the Abbey for the first time. While they had been visiting the Abbey and working on preparing it for weeks, this was the first night they had actually slept there.

It still wasn't ready for the rest of the Death Eaters, but they were slowly making the transition themselves, and Harry was gradually becoming just as comfortable in the new castle as he had always felt in the manor. They had begun to move all of Tom's magically transfigured exercise equipment to a large parlour at the castle that they had expanded and transformed to suit the new purpose they needed. The Lab was almost done, the dungeon cells were coming along nicely, and all of the portraits had now been relocated to the West Wing and put into rooms there where they couldn't be accessed by any Death Eaters. The elves had successfully repaired and cleaned up all of the castle interior now, as well as resealing the windows and fixing any water damage from leakage. The elves were now focusing most of their efforts on the extensive gardens, even though Tom thought it was a bit unnecessary.

When they weren't fixing up the castle, or back at the manor holding a few Death Eater meetings, they were practicing the parselmagic phase spell. Harry was finding it to be an exceedingly difficult spell to get a handle on so far. It took a tremendous amount of his focus and he wondered how he could make it useable in any practical situation. Tom insisted that with practice it would become more natural and easier to perform. Harry only hoped he was right.

Harry's mind was so distracted by his thoughts and plans for the castle, the parsel spell, as well as his continued pondering on the revelations of his ancestor Jheames' portrait from the start of that week, that he bumped into Hermione's back as they came up to the group standing and waiting outside the closed classroom door.

Harry blinked, bringing his mind back to the present and letting his eyes roam over the large crowd.

He knew that Thor would be finishing the activation of the room's wards. Eight ward stones were placed in each of the corners of the room to create a temporary protective field from the school's Dark magic detection wards. Normally, lesser Dark spells performed within the school's wards would get logged but usually no alarms were sounded, however any higher-level Dark magic performed within the castle's walls would alert the Headmaster immediately. The ward stones were designed to prevent that. Of course, no high level Dark magic would be performed in the Intermediate group, but Harry knew that Thor wanted to get into the practice of having them set up for every 'club' meeting.

The ward stones would hold a charge long enough to prevent the castle wards from logging anything for a solid four hours. After that, they had to go through a simple recharging process to be used again. Recharging didn't take long, but they had to be deactivated while charging. Tom had developed the ward system and the stones, of course. It had been either that, or hold the club meetings in the Room of Requirement, which Harry and Tom had decided was simply not an option. They didn't want the whole of the student body to be aware of that particular treasured secret.

So ward stones it was.

The gathered group of students was quite large, and Harry wondered for a moment if the room would even be large enough to handle them all. It was probably the largest classroom in the school – which was why it was never used anymore since there were rarely classes large enough to warrant it – and yet, Harry wasn't sure if they'd have enough room inside to move freely with such a big group.

But he expected some of those who had shown up today would probably give up on the idea after they saw how grueling the 'club' would be, and not return again. Thor had no intention of having this experience be 'easy' or 'fun' for anyone. They wanted to weed out the weak, quickly.

Looking over the group, Harry saw that his expectations for who would be in attendance were mostly correct. The group was comprised of more Ravenclaws than anything else, although there was quite a fair number of Gryffindors. Ravenclaws had come for the opportunity for further academic expansion, while the Gryffindors were there because they wanted to learn to duel. Chances were high that once the Gryffindors realized how much

work

was going to be involved, many of them would lose interest.

The low turnout of Slytherin students, Harry knew, was really, because most of them had been put straight into the 'Advanced' group where they would skip any silly pretense about defensive magic, and go straight into Dark Arts instruction.

Suddenly the door to the classroom opened up and Professor Rowle stood there for a moment before standing to the side and gesturing the large group to come inside. As soon as everyone was in the large open room, he closed the doors and walked through the group to the head of the room.

There were no desks in the room, and the floor had been transfigured so that it was squishy, as if it were made of tumbling mats. Some of the students were bouncing slightly on the balls of their feet as they experimented with the floor, giggling and joking to each other playfully.

After waiting a minute for everyone to settle down Rowle cleared his throat.

"Welcome to the new Hogwarts Dueling and Defense Association. As I explained in my Defense classes, the purpose of this club is to try and make up for the pitiful defensive magic education you have all had access to up until this point. In class, I will do my best to make sure you all know the minimum necessary to fully succeed in your proficiency exams. In this club, I will make sure you actually know how to fight and defend yourselves, magically; have hands on experience doing so; and are prepared for any real-world situations that could arise that would demand the knowledge and ability to fight.

"This is not a club for fun," Rowle paused and looked out over the silent gathering of students with a piercing gaze. "You are not here to hang out with your friends. You are not here so that you have a free pass to start throwing stunners around. You will not be allowed to stay or be welcome to return, if you do not take this class seriously. Participating in the DDA will require a lot of hard work, dedication to the work, and personal commitment. I expect everyone who comes to this class to give it their all, or leave. This is not a part of the Hogwarts curriculum and no one is required to be here. I am not even being compensated for this; I am doing it on my own time. I do not owe you anything. I am already doing you a favor just by providing you with the opportunity to be here. If you do not take it seriously, or I don't feel that you are up to the task, you will leave. Am I understood?"

Quiet murmurs of 'Yes, sir,' could be heard throughout the large room.

"Good. Now, because this is a much larger group that I usually have to deal with in a class, I have arranged for a student-teacher to help me out. If you have questions, you can ask him and he will probably have an answer for you. If he tells you to do something, you will listen to him. If you are misbehaving, he can take points and I will back them up. Mr. Potter? Will you come to the front?"

Hermione blinked and her head whipped to the side as she gaped at Harry in surprise. He just smirked a bit and shrugged with an unapologetic grin as he quickly left her side and made his way to the front of the class.

"I'm sure everyone in here is at least passing familiar with Mr. Potter," Rowle said as Harry came to a stop, standing directly beside him. "Mr. Potter will be assisting me in running this club. I chose him because he proved to me that he possessed both the knowledge, practical experience, and leadership skills necessary to do the job. That means he has my complete faith and you should show him proper respect. Even those of you who are older than he is," Rowle said, pausing for a moment to give a pointed look at a group of seventh years that looked decidedly unhappy with the professor's last few statements.

"Now, as I'm sure you've all noticed, there are no desks in this room. There will be no essays due for this group, and no written assignments. I will, occasionally, ask that you read up on some subjects in your own free time, but I'm not going to quiz you or test you on it. It will be obvious to me whether or not you did the proper work by your performance. Mostly this group will focus on learning specific spells, and then practicing them in groups. In the beginning, we'll be working in pairs, but by the end of the year, I intend to set you into large groups to simulate larger battle situations. Real-life encounters with magical enemies will rarely be under so-called 'fair' circumstances. Being able to defend yourself, and escape from danger, when outnumbered is a vital skill and I intend to impart it on all of you.

"Now, before we really get started, I'm going to give you all a demonstration of the sort of duel I expect you all to be capable of fighting by the end of the year, if you are able to survive this group's grueling pace until the end."

With that he paused and turned to Harry who flicked his wrist and instantly had his holly wand in his hand. Rowle's wand was in his hand an instant later. The two took a few steps back from each other and bowed.

What followed was a relatively tame duel by all reasonable accounts. They only used spells that were going to be covered over the course of the DDA's lessons, as well as the basic defense spells covered up until 5th year. Or at least, the basic defense spells that

would

be covered up until 5th year if a consistent instruction was given.

While the duel was 'tame' they both used several mild Dark spells. Spells that weren't

obviously

Dark, but looked fairly impressive, all things considered. Harry noticed, as he sent a seemingly powerful purple jet of jagged light at Thor, that the man only barely managed to dodge, that several of the students looked on with apparent awe.

Harry and Thor ended the duel on a draw, neither actually disarming the other, but simply calling a truce. They then turned to the group of students and asked if there were any questions. Several of the seventh years eagerly asked about specific spells used that they had never seen or heard of before, to which Thor and Harry both answered with honest answers as to the names of each specified spell. A short time later, the room was split into two groups by skill – Thor took the seventh years and a couple sixth years to one side of the room, while Harry took the rest to the other. Each demonstrated a specific spell and its counter to their group and then set them to pairs to practice.

Harry walked around the group correcting form, pronunciation, and wand movement, while everyone attempted to either hex their partner, or block and counter the hex being aimed at them.

Hermione had ended up partnering with Neville, since Harry wasn't available as a partner and Ginny was paired up with Luna. Ron hadn't come because he wanted to get in some extra practice on the Quidditch pitch in preparation for the tryouts the following day. Harry could tell that Hermione was getting extraordinarily frustrated with Neville's inability to perform the spell, but was trying to be patient and not openly show her irritation.

Harry paused, cocked his head slightly to the side, and observed Neville as he struggled with his magic. Harry could see and

feelthe magic around Neville as he attempted to cast the spell, but it almost seemed as if it were ramming into some sort of blockage. Neville clearly had quite a bit of magical power inside him – Harry could sense it – but the boy didn't seem able to focus and control it at all.

Harry's attention focused in on Neville's wand and his eyes narrowed.

"Hey Neville?" Harry asked, coming up to him. Neville looked utterly dejected, and when Harry came over to him, he looked as if he were about to cry.

"Yeah, Harry?" Neville asked timidly.

"Is that your wand?" Harry asked.

Neville looked confused and nodded his head slowly. "Er... yeah. It's the same wand I've always had."

"Well, yeah, what I mean is, did it choose you, or is it a hand-me-down?"

"Oh," Neville replied with a dawning understanding in his eyes. "Well, it was my dad's wand, actually."

"You couldn't afford a new wand?" Harry asked, with mild incredulity.

"Er, not really, that wasn't the problem. My Gran said it was an honor for me to use my dad's wand so..."

Harry scoffed. "Family honor is no excuse for stunting your magic. You need a different wand, Nev. That thing doesn't work with you at all."

Neville's eyes went wide and he looked a bit horrified by the suggestion. "But I couldn't! Gran would never let me get another wand. Besides, how would I? I can't exactly leave school to go visit Diagon Alley, can I? And there aren't any stores that sell wands in Hogsmeade..."

Harry twisted up his mouth and looked thoughtful for a moment before it twisted into a smile. "I know just what to do. Hang around after the class is over and I'll take you somewhere. Okay?"

Neville looked unsure, but finally agreed. Hermione was giving Harry a questioning look, but didn't actually ask him while Neville was still there. Harry stepped away and resumed his observations of the rest of his group, occasionally going to groups that had managed to get a hang on the first spell, and demonstrating a second one for them to practice.

This continued for another hour before the first meeting of the DDA was drawn to a close and everyone was dismissed. Neville lingered behind, fidgeting nervously as he stood by the door, waiting as Harry finished talking with Professor Rowle about some things. Hermione stuck around too and walked over to Neville, trying to give him some advice to try and reassure him after his rather pathetic performance during the club meeting.

Finally, Harry walked over to Neville and Hermione, giving Neville a reassuring smile. "So, Nev – you ever been to Hogwarts' Lost and Found room?" Harry asked.

Neville blinked. "Lost and found room?" he echoed in confusion.

"I'll take that as a no." Harry said, chuckling. Even Hermione looked confused so Harry quickly went on to explain. "A friend who graduated from Hogwarts a while ago actually told me about it, so I'll admit that even I barely even realized it existed. I was really only aware of it because it's on this er...

map

of the school that I've got." Harry paused and gave Hermione a significant glance, and she quickly realized what he was talking about. "Anyway, I knew it existed before, but I'd never bothered going there, you know? So anyway, this friend of mine told me about it over the summer. The Lost and Found room is where the house elves sort and store all objects that are found left behind at the end of each school year. If an object has been in the Lost and Found room for more than seven years, it's free to anyone who wants it because it's assumed that whoever lost it has probably graduated and has missed out on the chance to claim their stuff.

"So," Harry paused, letting his words sink in, "my intention is to go there now, look through the boxes of wands, and see if any of them chose you. Are you game?"

"Boxes of wands?" Hermione exclaimed. "Are you saying that there are

wands

there?"

"Yup," Harry said with absolute certainty. "You've got to realize, Hermione. This room has the lost and found objects from literally

hundreds

of years of students. Do you really think that

no one

has ever lost a wand here?"

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. "I suppose it would eventually happen."

"It probably happens more than you realize. Anyway, let's go, shall we?"

Neville still looked rather unsure, but he followed Harry anyway. The three of them made their way down the corridor, up through the grand staircase, and down another corridor until Harry led them through a door that neither Hermione, nor Neville, had ever really paid attention to before.

Harry pulled it open and stepped through. Hermione and Neville stepped inside and both gaped in shock at the massive room they found before them. Rows upon rows of shelves were in lines behind a small desk with a house elf sitting at it. It looked up, squeaked in excitement and quickly scurried around the desk to stand before Harry.

"Young Masters!" it gasped in excitement. "How can Minnie be helpings yous? Yous be losing something, yes?"

"Actually," Harry said, smiling down at the little creature, "we haven't specifically lost anything, but I was wondering if my friend could go through the boxes of lost wands. His wand broke and he can't go out and buy a new one until the holidays. I suggested he check here to see if any of the abandoned wands would chose him, or be a close enough match for him to use it."

"Oh! Oh, of course! But yous know that you can't be taking any wandies that are being here less than seven years?"

"I know. So can we see them?"

The little creature bobbed her head excitedly before snapping her fingers. A moment later a large box dislodged itself from far back in one of the rows of shelving and flew through the air to come rest upon the elf's desk.

Harry walked over and shuffled his hand around inside it for a moment before looking back over his shoulder at Neville.

"Coming, Nev?" Harry asked with a smirk. Neville started out of his stunned stupor and hurried over to Harry's side.

The elf hovered for a moment, asking if there was anything else she could help them with. Harry told her no, for now, and thanked her for her help. Harry began guiding Neville through the process of testing the wands and Hermione took the opportunity to speak with the elf, 'Minnie', and ask her questions about elf history. The little elf got rather timid and reluctant, but answered some Hermione's questions anyway.

Neville went through each wand, one at a time, giving each a hesitant swish or flick with the continued prodding by Harry. About twenty minutes passed with no results and Neville was becoming increasingly disheartened. Harry tried to cheer him up by telling him just how long it took for him to find his wand at Ollivander's, but that didn't seem to really cheer Neville up much.

Another fifteen minutes passed, filled with rejected wands. The box of abandoned wand was still very full, but Harry suspected it was a magically expanded space inside. There were a

lot

of wands that had been lost over the last thousand years. Neville put his hand in to grab another wand and gasped suddenly.

Harry's head jerked up and he looked at Neville. "Find something?"

Neville swallowed thickly. "I thought I felt something, but I dropped the wand."

Harry chuckled and looked into the box. "Try to find it again."

Neville brushed his fingertips over all of the wands directly below his hand until he apparently found the wand he had just dropped. Hesitantly, he raised his hand, holding the wand in a loose grip and looking at it with wide, stunned eyes.

"What do you feel?" Harry asked in a hushed voice.

"It's..." Neville began to say, but his voice seemed to die in his throat.

"Totally different than holding your dad's wand, isn't it?" Harry asked with a smirk.

"It is," Neville whispered.

"Try casting a spell." Harry suggested, eagerly. Hermione's attention was back on the boys now and she looked equally anxious.

Neville held the wand tighter and looked at it. "What spell?" he asked, unsure.

Harry dug into his book bag and pulled out his potions textbook and set it down on one of the tables along the wall by the door. "Summon this book. You know the Accio charm, right?"

Neville paled considerably and shook his head. "I er... I know it. But it's never worked for me. I could never get anything to come to me. At most, they'd twitch a little."

"Well, then that's a perfect test. Summon the book." Harry encouraged.

Neville swallowed thickly again and nodded his head with a weak air of determination. He pointed the new wand at the book and said "Accio book!"

The book instantly flew up and across the small space. Neville yelped in surprise and ducked just in time for the book to go soaring over his head.

Harry laughed and pulled out his own wand to summon the book back from where ever it went flying. He caught it easily and stuck it back into his bag just as Neville was standing back up and looking back down at the wand in his hand with awe and shock.

"Great job, Nev!" Harry exclaimed with a grin.

"I can't believe I did it!" Neville gasped.

"That was fantastic, Neville!" Hermione exclaimed, beaming at him.

"See how big a difference it makes to have a wand your magic can actually connect with?" Harry asked, rhetorically. "I bet this will make a huge difference in classes."

Neville nodded his head slowly, still looking down at his new wand with disbelief.

"Can I see it, Nev?" Harry asked, pointing at the wand.

Neville blinked up at Harry for a moment before handing it over. "Oh, sure."

Harry waved his own wand over it, silently incanting the same spell that Tom had used all those months ago to determine what his cypress wand's properties were. Harry could see a magically generated display of information glow over the wand that no one but he could see. His brows rose slightly in surprise at what he saw.

"What is it?" Neville asked, sounding worried.

"It's yew and hair from an urisk's tail; twelve inches long. Obviously not an Ollivander wand since he doesn't use urisk hair," Harry answered.

"How can you tell what it is?" Hermione asked with interest.

"Simple detection spell. I'll teach it to you, if you want." Harry said with a shrug and Hermione responded with an eager nod.

"Yew and urisk hair..." Neville echoed with a bit of wonder in his voice as Harry handed the wand back.

Harry turned to the elf, Minnie, and thanked her for her help. She snapped her fingers and all of the wands flew back into the box, before she sent it flying back down the row of shelves where it came from.

The three left the Lost and Found room with Neville thanking Harry for all his help and Harry brushing it off. He cast a tempus and saw that it was nearing time for dinner. He would need to keep his meal short since he had to go help Thor set up for the Dark Arts club at 6:30. The 'club' would be meeting from seven until nine o'clock that evening, and Harry needed to be ready before anyone else showed up.

– –

During dinner, Harry just barely managed to dodge Hermione's questions about him being the assistant in the defense club, by insisting that they would discuss it later. He ate a quick meal before hurrying off to meet Thor for the Dar Arts club.

Thor was waiting for Harry in the room with the eight ward stones – newly recharged and ready for the class. Harry helped him place them in each corner of the large rectangular room and attach them, before activating them all in proper sequence. While Harry was finishing up that, Thor brought out the secrecy contract and set it on a table in the front-center of the room with a blood quill beside it.

In addition to the ward stones, the pair cast several layers of secrecy wards and privacy wards, and they had just finished casting all of the needed security precautions when it reached seven o'clock. Harry headed to the far end of the room, stood in a corner, cast a disillusionment spell over himself

and

pulled his invisibility cloak over his head.

Once Thor was sure that Harry was sufficiently concealed, he went over to the door and opened it up. A fair-sized group of students had already gathered there and they quickly made their way inside, once Thor had stood aside.

The space filled up, and at 7:05, Thor closed and sealed the door.

"Welcome, to all of you," Thor started as he walked over and stood beside the table with the contract. "I know that a great deal of you already have your suspicions as to the nature of this group. Quite a few of you are here solely because your parents instructed you to attend, and I know they have likely alluded to some things, and you've made your own assumptions from that. But before I can actually tell you the specifics of what we will be doing in this group, I must insist that everyone who is serious about participating

must

first and foremost be willing to sign this magical confidentiality contract."

He paused and looked out over the group as they murmured to each other, and several had very cautious or concerned expressions on their faces. Most of them were from old wizarding families and were very much aware of how dangerous a magical contract could be depending on the severity of the consequences for breaking it.

"This contract is for my protection as well as yours. It is a secrecy contract. Nothing that occurs in this room, during these lessons, can be discussed or written about, outside of these gatherings. No one who signs this contract will be able to relay anything about anyone else here, to anyone outside this group. The magic of this contract is monumentally powerful. It will not only prevent anyone from willfully revealing anyone else's actions or secrets, but it will stop anyone who might try to force the information from you. No one will be able to steal the knowledge through means of Legilimency, or even through the use of veritaserum. It is

that

powerful.

"With these measures in place, you will not feel the pressure to hold back or restrain yourself from fully taking advantage of this learning opportunity. This is going to be a place where you can learn and I want everyone to feel free and able to perform to their full potential without fear of being

tattled

on. Obviously, I also want these security measures in place for my own protection since I will be putting my own career and

freedom

on the line in order to teach you things that are not necessary approved by some people in power."

He paused again, allowing it all to sink in.

"Now, everyone here must sign this contract. If you do not feel comfortable doing that, then you should leave now."

Thor motioned to the contract on the table and stood to the side.

The group muttered quietly for a moment, most of them eyeing the contract with slight hesitation. Draco Malfoy was the first to move. He strode forward with his usual, confident swagger, and picked up the blood quill with a flourish and signed his name. He turned around to face the group with his chin up and a smirk on his lips before walking back out into the crowd. The other fifth year Slytherins immediately followed his example and each one walked up and signed their names to the contract. A line formed behind them and after about ten minutes had passed, everyone in the room had signed the contract.

Once it appeared that everyone was done, Thor walked over to the contract and tapped his wand on it while silently sending it the proper command. Two faint glows appeared in the room. One out in the midst of the crowd, and one in the corner where Harry was concealed. The group of students looked around in mild confusion. They parted and the one person in the crowd who was glowing was revealed.

"Mr. Simmons. It would appear you haven't signed the contract. Are you seriously interested in staying, or will you be leaving?" Thor asked in clipped tones as numerous people shot the Ravenclaw 6th year suspicious glares.

Simmons swallowed thickly before walking forward to the table, picking up the quill and pausing with it over the parchment as he took a moment to read over the text written at the top. Finally, he signed it, set the quill down and walked back to the crowd with his head stubbornly raised in the air.

"What was the other glow? Over there, in the corner?" one of the students called out as Thor came back over to stand beside the table again.

"That was the individual who will be my assistant for this class. We decided to wait to reveal his identity to you all until you had all signed the contract, and to wait for him to sign it until you could all witness it, to help assuage the concerns that I'm sure many of you will have."

Thor turned towards the corner that Harry had been standing in.

"Mr. Potter? Care to grace us all with your presence?"

A couple gasps escaped the mouths of a few students as Harry pulled off his cloak and canceled his disillusionment spell.

"What is

he

doing here?" someone yelled in angry voice, while several other loud and angry mutterings filled the room.

Harry walked forward confidently despite the outcries of anger and shock and signed his name on the contract. He turned around the faced the group with sharp eyes, not saying a word and yet managing to quiet the group of them anyway.

"The Dark Lord has returned," Harry said suddenly in a loud, authoritative voice, bringing few gasps and then absolute silence, instantly to the room. "And I stand with him." Harry continued and watched with mild amusement as several expressions of disbelief and incredulity graced the gathered student's faces.

Thor came up to Harry's side, pulled up his left sleeve and deactivated the glamour that kept his Dark Mark hidden. He held his arm into the air, displaying his mark for the room to see.

"I vouch for Potter." Thor spoke in his booming voice. "Despite what you all may have heard or read in the Prophet, he did not spend his summer with some mysterious

friend. He spent his summer living in the Dark Lord's headquarters, learning Dark magic, and attending Death Eater meetings and training sessions. Mr. Potter was personally trained by the Dark Lord, and is now willing to relay much of what he has learned to you... if you are willing to listen."

"Potter? With the Dark Lord?" someone exclaimed in obvious disbelief.

"But he's the Boy-Who-Lived!"

"He's Dumbledore's puppet!"

"It's a trick!"

"He's a spy!"

"It's true! I saw him there." Draco drawled in a loud, yet calm voice and all those around him quieted to look at him with wide, stunned eyes.

"What do you mean, you saw him there?" a seventh year Slytherin asked.

Draco smirked. "When my father took me to see the Dark Lord this summer, I spoke with Potter. He

was

living there. I attended a meeting with the Dark Lord,

and Potter was there."

Harry could tell that Draco had probably been

dying

to brag about having been to see the Dark Lord, and now that he was under the protection of the secrecy contract, he was finally free to do just that.

"You

were taken to the Dark Lord?" A disbelieving voice called out.

"Is the Dark Lord truly back?"

"But he's dead! How could he be back?"

"Not even the Dark Lord could come back from the dead!"

"You dare to doubt the Dark Lord?"

"He was never truly defeated! Only a fool would believe that the most powerful Dark Lord could –"

"Why would he allow

you

to attend a meeting with him? Let alone bloody

Potter?" One of the older students snarled to Draco.

"My father is one of his most trusted and loyal followers!" Draco spat back. "He

wanted to speak with me because he has plans for Hogwarts and He realized that I would be able to help him!"

"You're only a fifth year! You're not even qualified! Why would the Dark Lord trust a bloody

fifth year

with anything as important as –"

More angry voices rang throughout the hall as the arguing began anew, rising to a mind-numbing cacophony. Harry raised his wand hand into the air, shooting a powerful burst of Dark angry red light, surrounded by a black swirl of ooze-like mist that hit the ceiling, exploded in a powerful web-like shockwave that spread across the stone before fading away. The surge of magic shook the group so powerfully that several of those gathered fell to their knees, and the rest were stunned into silence.

The spell was

Dark. Powerfully

Dark, and no one there with a Dark affinity, could deny it or its power. The angry calls had silenced instantly, and those gathered were now looking on with a mixture of shock and disbelief at the one who had cast it.

"Next to none of you actually know me," Harry began to speak, breaking the heavy silence. "The

real

me. Of course, everyonethinks

they know me, but let me be the first to tell you that whatever you

think

you know about me? Forget it. I'll

tell

you who I am. I am a Dark wizard. I have killed. I have tortured. I stand by the Dark Lord and I will remain by his side through the coming war. I am a snake in the lion's den. I have the trust and the confidence of the leader of the Light, and am in a position to spy on the Dark Lord's enemies without being subjected to their suspicion. They, like many of you, truly believe that I am on the Light's side, but I

Am Not.

"This class will teach the Dark Arts. It is being taught by two wizards who have both sworn their absolute loyalty to the Dark Lord and his cause. This does not mean that you, by participating in this class, are required to join him after graduation. However, the fact remains that many of you have family members who have already taken the Dark Lord's mark. Upon graduation, quite a few of you are likely to follow in their footsteps. The Dark Lord has lent his personal assistance in this endeavor because he knows this. He would prefer that his future followers come to him already at least partially trained and prepared to take their place in the coming war.

"The contract that you all just signed, and that

I

just signed, was created by the Dark Lord himself. The ward stones that are currently placed in this room, preventing the Headmaster's wards from logging our spells, and reporting on our activities, were created and prepared by the Dark Lord. If anyone here is under the delusion that they could find some sort of loophole to get around the contract should the need arise –

know this!

Any willful attempts to circumvent the spells placed upon the contract to protect us and to protect

you –

willful attempts to

squeal

to the Headmaster, or the other Professors, or the Ministry – these attempts will get you

killed!

The consequences of breaking this contract are severe! The Dark Lord does not wish for his return to become public knowledge yet. He is preparing his followers in secret, but he is also trying to subtly infiltrate the Ministry so that his take-over will go through with as little resistance as possible. As such, he is not willing to risk all of that just because you wanted to brag to your friends, or because you got the idea in your head to try and blackmail someone, or because you thought you could boast and earn yourself some rep or respect by boasting."

Harry stopped and looked out over the room. The room was filled with stunned silence and many sets of large, startled eyes were focused right on him.

"If anyone here doesn't think they can handle the pressure, you should leave. Leave, and don't come back. If you don't think you can handle the workload, you should leave. We will be expecting you to perform beyond your best. You will give your all to this class, or you won't attend. This is a serious subject that we are teaching here.

This is the Dark Arts. We will be learning powerful and dangerous spells here. This is going to be serious business and there will be no tolerance of anyone fooling around. If you are going to stick around and continue to attend our meetings, then you will have to accept

my

leadership and myauthority. If you can handle the pressure, the responsibility, and accept learning from

me, then stay.

"Attending this class is an opportunity that you would be a fool to pass up. Not only the opportunity to learn the Dark Arts while in school, but the opportunity to learn from Professor Rowle; the opportunity to learn from

me."

Thor took the lead again and began to explain the plan for the class; what would be covered, and how often they would meet. They would have holding 'class' twice a week, in the evenings, for two hours.

Thor did a quick survey of how much actual exposure and practice in the Dark Arts the gathered students had. Some had been taught by their parents, or by privately hired tutors during the summer, but others only had a very fleeting familiarity with actually performing Dark spells. The group was split into two – the experienced students and the inexperienced ones. Thor took the inexperienced group to get them started since it was the first introduction of Dark magic that could be the most overwhelming, and required the most guidance.

Harry took the others and demonstrated a couple spells of varying degrees of difficulty. The gathered students seemed less than eager to follow him, and there were a few – mostly seventh-years – who were giving him a hard time.

One boy with an especially sharp tongue found himself on the other end of Harry's wand, and then quickly on the floor screaming as Harry threw a

Crucio

at him for about ten seconds.

The group stared in utter shock, but quite a few looked rather impressed.

"You should consider yourself lucky. I've held Death Eaters under that curse for

minutes

for less than what you just said." Harry spat at the shaking boy as he tried to pick himself up off the floor.

Harry sneered at him in mild disgust. "That your first time under the Cruciatus?" he asked in an airy voice. The boy looked up at Harry with an expression that seemed uncertain whether to be angry or to be terrified.

"What's your name?" Harry asked when he didn't get an answer to his last question.

"Nero Crockett," the boy said, finally getting to his feet and raising his head proudly into the air.

"Crockett? You related to Lennox Crockett?"

Crockett's eye twitched slightly. "He's my father."

"You're father's a fairly powerful wizard, Crockett. He's in the Dark Lord's Advanced group, did you know that? I've seen him duel. I've also seen him scream and writhe on the floor under the Dark Lord's Cruciatus when he repeatedly screwed up a spell and finally got on the Dark Lord's nerves, and I can guarantee that

His

Cruciatus would hurt a hell of a lot more and last a hell of a lot longer than what I just did to you."

Crockett paled and his eyes widened as he swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Do you intend to follow in your father's footsteps, Crockett? Will you be taking the Dark Mark? Will you fight for the Dark and help to restore our world to its proper glory?" Harry asked imperiously.

Crockett's chest puffed out slightly and he rose his head even more proudly into the air than before.

"I will," he said with a determined air.

"Then you need to learn to show proper respect for your betters. The Dark Lord would never stand for such cheek in his presence." Harry hissed menacingly.

Crockett's face flushed with anger, but his eyes were filled with fear and he gave Harry a curt nod.

Harry turned his gaze on the gathered students who were all watching the scene unfold with shock and awe.

"Back to work!" Harry bellowed sharply and everyone quickly returned to their dueling partners and practicing their spells.

– –

That night Harry had gone back to the manor as usual, used the time-turner to go back 24-hours and met up with Tom. He and Tom had quickly apparated to the Abbey and spent the night there as had become their new routine. With morning, the pair went through their morning workout, shower and breakfast before returning to the manor to deal with a couple Death Eater meetings.

For a couple weeks now, Harry had dedicated at least one hour each day he spent with Tom at the manor, to practicing the stealth parsel-phase spell that he had gotten from the book that Tom had, had him collect from the Chamber.

After a few weeks of practice, he was now successfully able to phase every time he tried it. The trick was holding it for any prolonged period of time. He wasn't yet good enough to do it without significant concentration, and the moment anything distracted him, he would unphase and become visible and solid again. Tom was learning it with him, which was a new experience for Harry since it always seemed as if the elder wizard already knew

everything.

It was interesting phasing at the same time that Tom did, since they phased into the same plane of alternate space. They could see and even touch each other while phased, but no one else could see them as long as they properly held their focus, and they could even pass through most solid objects.

Harry compared it to being like a ghost, but Tom insisted it was nothing like being a spirit at all. This comment had instantly set a pit into Harry's stomach, suddenly realizing how insensitive his comment had been considering the fact that Tom had been forced to exist as little more than a spirit for more than a decade.

He meekly apologized, but Tom brushed it off and told him he was being stupid and to stop it immediately, which brought a weak grin across Harry's lips.

At the end of the day, Harry portkeyed back to Hogwarts to spend his Saturday night in Gryffindor tower.

–

Disclaimer:

I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary:

Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta

Pass

tannne

AN:

Warning – this chapter contains a sex scene. It is marked so you can skip it.

So the major event that happens towards the end of this chapter? Totally unplanned. Lol. It just sort of happened. I was writing and suddenly it happened and I had to pause and look at it and go – well, damn, that was unexpected. Tom surprised even me with that one.

– –

Chapter 19

Harry and Hermione met in the common room very early Sunday morning and headed down to breakfast. After quickly eating some toast and bacon, the two continued down to the dungeons and into their private brewing room. They spent the next two hours setting up and preparing all of the ingredients for the complicated ancestry potion.

Carefully, Hermione began adding in various ingredients in the proper amounts and in the proper order. Small jars were set in prepared amounts to the side of the cauldron, each carefully labeled with the date and time they should be added, equally spanned out over the next month. The last ingredient to be added that morning was Hermione's own blood. She held the small athame dagger in one hand, blade a few centimeters from her palm, and shaking slightly with nerves. Harry's hand stretched out and gently grasped her shaking hand and steadied the blade.

Hermione took in a deep, calming breath and drew the sharp blade across her hand, cleanly splitting open her own flesh. She grimaced in pain and quickly held it out over the bubbling cauldron to let the blood drip down into the concoction. Harry pointed his wand at the cauldron and began a quiet chant in Latin. Tendrils of powerful Dark magic leaked from his wand, down into the potion, calming the angry boiling bubble into a fast-paced clockwise spin. The moment he finished speaking, the spinning liquid changed color from a deep purple muck, into a thin, steamy, yellow-white fluid with red swirls.

Hermione drew her hand back and Harry quickly pointed his wand at it and healed the cut with a simple

Episkey.

Hermione took in another deep breath and gave Harry a shaky smile before thanking him again for helping her with all this.

The two were done by the time lunch rolled around and they cleaned up what they could before locking the door to the private brewing room and making their way up to the Great Hall.

Ron and Ginny were both already there, sitting with the twins and talking animatedly about the Quidditch team tryouts that would be held right after lunch. Harry rolled his eyes a bit at their eagerness and Hermione grinned at him.

Harry sat with the group of them, but participated in the conversation very little. He was already

on

the team, and Angelina wasn't making the old team members re-tryout for their old positions. Being the team's Seeker, Harry hardly needed to go to the tryouts at all, but he knew everyone was expecting his participation, so he couldn't skip it.

"So, Harry –" Hermione had said as she turned away from the Weasley's as they got embroiled into a deep debate on Quidditch plays.

"Yes, Hermione?" Harry asked, looking up from his plate.

"Will you tell me now why you never told me about helping out Professor Rowle with the club?"

Harry blinked. "Oh er... well, partially, I think I wanted it to be a surprise." Harry said with an apologetic shrug. "I erm... was also a bit worried that you'd be upset."

"Why would I be upset?" she asked, looking hurt.

"Well, I was afraid that you'd think he was showing me preferential treatment because of who I am and because I met him over the summer. He only came to me and asked me if I would be interested in helping with the club a little over a week ago."

"Well, I hardly see it as preferential treatment. Besides, you only met him a few times over the summer, right?"

"Right."

"I know that some of our classmates were actually tutored by him every summer for years. If he was going to pick someone because they were a favorite student of his he could have easily picked one he'd known for years, but he didn't. He picked you. I know how much studying you did last year in prep for the tournament. You probably know more defensive spells than even the seventh years do. Plus, you've actually used defensive magic in real, life threatening situations. It's not just theoretical knowledge, you've had the opportunity to put into practical use. I don't doubt for a second, Harry, that you deserve the position."

Harry ducked his head in mock embarrassment or flattery and smiled bashfully. "Thanks."

Hermione sighed. "I was just a bit upset that you didn't tell me."

Harry shrugged, still keeping his head low. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I was a little worried because I knew you were expecting to get into the advanced group."

"Oh, Harry. I'm sorry if I made you feel pressured. I know I made a big deal about it last night, but I was just being stupid. I realize you probably had absolutely no say in who got into which group anyway."

"The Advanced group is really all seventh years, anyways. Mostly people who intend to be Aurors and such. It's really grueling, and almost all practical application. Dueling exercises and stuff. And while you're brilliant with all the knowledge about defense that you've got crammed inside that overly clever brain of yours, you're practical work in defense is..." Harry trailed off, giving Hermione a weak, apologetic grimace.

Hermione sigh, and then smiled at him. "You're right, Harry. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. You didn't know, and I really should have just told you."

The two returned to their eating for a minute before Hermione looked up again. "That was really brilliant what you did for Neville, by the way."

Harry smiled softly and shrugged. "I didn't really do anything. Besides, it's downright horrifying that his grandmother would impair and stunt his magical growth just because of a sentimental attachment to his dad's wand. Wands are incredibly picky and a magical core that can't connect properly with a wand, will develop poorly. She's been doing Neville a great disservice by insisting he use that wand."

Hermione frowned but nodded her head. Harry knew that Hermione didn't actually know any of the details about Neville's parents and she was probably incredibly curious since it was obvious that Harry

did

know. Harry was honestly a bit impressed that she didn't ask.

Finally, it was time for tryouts and Harry was dragged out to the pitch by the group of excited gingers. Hermione tagged along to watch from the stands. When Harry asked her if she was sure, she really wanted to attend, she pointed out that she had a book in her bag to read, so she wouldn't be

too

bored. Harry chuckled in response.

Ginny and Ron both had to use the school's Clean Sweep brooms, and Harry caught Ron eyeing his Firebolt with obvious envy, but Ron had quickly darted his eyes away when he caught sight of Harry looking at him.

The turn-out for the tryouts were fairly large since Angelina had announced that she was forming a reserve team that would also be trained and have a good chance of making it to the real team the following year when most of the current team had graduated. Because of this, anyone interested in just about any position was welcome to come tryout. All of the old team members, minus Oliver Wood, of course, were still there. Fred and George, now in their seventh and final year, were there as the team's beaters. Angelina Johnson, the captain, was a chaser, along with Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell. Katie Bell was a sixth year, but Angelina and Alicia were both seventh years. And of course, Harry, the only fifth year, was the team's seeker. The only truly open spot was that of keeper, which was what Ron was truly hoping for. A few others were trying out for the position as well, but Harry didn't think that

any

of them looked to have the proper build for it. Cormac McLaggen was probably the closest, and while Harry was quickly forming the opinion that McLaggen was an arrogant sod, he suspected the stupid git might be better suited for the position than Ron actually was.

After an hour of tryouts, and a keepers battle, Angelina gathered the old team members to 'compare notes' and opinions on who should make the reserve team, and who to chose for the Keeper position.

McLaggen and Ron had tied for saves in the end. Harry thought that McLaggen's form was better and he certainly had the confidence level for performing under pressure, however it was obvious that Harry wasn't the only one that had formed a poor opinion on the wizard's personality during the tryouts because in the end, Angelina picked Ron.

Three Gryffindors were chosen to be in the reserve team. Ginny would be a reserve chaser, and in the case of Harry being unable to perform, a reserve seeker. Two reserve beaters were selected. They were also fourth years, like Ginny. An Andrew Kirke and a Jack Sloper. As reserve members they weren't required to come to all of the team practices, but Angelina preferred it if they came to most.

While the tryouts had been, generally, a waste of time for Harry, he had come to realize something important while he flew around on his broom high over the pitch, observing the tryouts. Harry no longer had the proper build for a seeker. He could still do it, of course. It wasn't unheard of for a seeker to have some bulk on them, after all, however the smaller and sleeker the individual was, the better suited they were for the position since it demanded speed and agility above all else. Harry was no longer the scrawny, short, gangly youth he was even a year earlier. His use of the accelerant potion the previous year had added a considerable amount of bulk to his physique. His shoulders were wider and thus, less aerodynamic, and he was as a whole, much larger and heavier.

It made him realize that the practices would actually be at least slightly important in the coming months if he wanted to perform well during the actual games. He needed to relearn how to fly fast now that he had a considerably larger body.

When the tryouts were finally concluded, Harry hurried back inside the castle, thoroughly sick of the chill, and dreading the fact that it was only going to get colder. Flying on a broom in freezing sleet was definitely one of his least favorite activities, and if history was anything to go by, it was an activity that he would likely have to engage in often thanks to his position on the Quidditch team.

– –

The next two weeks – or four weeks, from Harry's perspective – seemed to pass rather quickly, all things considered. The plans and preparation training for the attack on Azkaban were coming along nicely. Tom was nearly finished with the wards around Morhda Abbey, and it would soon be ready for the Death Eaters to be informed of the move. Harry and Tom had continued to practice the parsel phase spell and were slowly making progress.

Tom and Harry had also completed construction of another group of training dummies that Harry had shrunk down and placed inside a space-expanded container, that he had then taken back to Hogwarts. The dummies were now being used in the bi-weekly Dark Arts Association, since the spells that he and Thor were teaching, the students were too dangerous for them to practice them on each other. Grouping up in pairs worked fine for the 'Dueling and Defense Association', or DDA, since most of them were working on stunners, and the most dangerous thing any of the higher years were using was an underpowered bludgeoning curse. However, this was definitely not the case for the 'Dark Arts Association', or DAA for short.

The DDA meetings only happened once a week, so Harry had only had two of those. Neville's performance in the second meeting was noticeably improved over the first week. In fact, his performance in all of his practical magic classes had improved. This didn't include Potions, however, and Hermione was still struggling to keep their potions from exploding, or going flat, during class.

Hermione simply could not stand for getting a zero for any class, and if their potion was banished by Snape, it meant a zero. Therefore, Hermione made it her focus in every potions class to make sure Snape never had any reason to do any such thing. It was stressful – doubly so since Hermione was trying to reassure Neville that she wasn't upset with him for holding her back in class.

Harry's other classes were going as expected. Arithmancy was actually becoming one of his favorite classes. What he was learning was also helping him to understand the work that Tom was currently completing with the wards around Morhda Abbey, and Harry had even been able to help a few times without direct guidance from Tom. Runes was also helping in that area, although they really weren't advanced enough in the subject for it to help him a lot with highly advanced warding magic.

His working with Ginny and Luna was going well. Both of them were also participating in the DDA meetings, and he often studied with them in the Library. Luna was definitely a strange one, but Harry was finding her quirky personality rather entertaining. She also said the strangest things sometimes. Half of what she said sounded utterly ridiculous, even to him, and yet there were other things she said that Harry

had

actually heard of and knew were bits of extremely obscure knowledge that had been lost through the ages to most wizards. It made him wonder about the other things she said and how much of it might actually be valid.

He was spending a lot of his non-class time in the library or Great Hall studying for all of his classes ahead of time, and he was managing top marks in most all of his subjects, even coming into direct competition with Hermione's grades in all of the classes they shared. Even the previous year, when he had first started his vastly improved class performance after stopping the unnecessary waste of magic, fighting Tom's soul, Harry's essays had still been subpar to Hermione's work. And during that time, Harry had had the occasional assistance of his Companion. Harry had developed an instinctual understanding of magic, and that helped a lot, but school work often required memorization of historical facts, theories, and knowledge of who developed what charm and why, and those were things he could only learn by reading the textbooks and studying. Now his improved class performance was all a result of his own efforts, and he found himself quite proud of his performance and success.

Snape had, had another meeting with Voldemort and 'Evan Harris' the week prior and during that time had told them that a staff meeting had just been held, and that during it several of the Professors had made mention of Harry's academic improvement to the Headmaster.

None of the teachers seemed to consider it or any of Harry's recent behavior a trait to worry about. In fact, they had remarked that Harry seemed to have come out of his shell considerably since his rather reclusive behavior the previous year. A few had noticed that Harry seemed to be talking with a lot of students from other years and houses, and that quite a few students had been seen approaching Harry with questions in the Library, and in the Great Hall, and even in classes.

Thor had then informed them all that Harry was acting as a sort of student teacher in his defense club and that Harry was proving to be a very skilled instructor. He suggested that the students were probably approaching Harry with their questions because they could already see that Harry was quite intelligent and powerful and that he could likely help them – which was true.

Snape had gone on to grudgingly admitted that Harry's performance in his class had also improved, although Snape quickly attributed it to Harry having been partnered up with Draco Malfoy in class.

Speaking of Draco, Harry's interactions with the Malfoy heir had becoming rather entertaining, to say the least. Somehow, during their Potion classes, the two had developed a playful but subtle sort of banter system. They still seemed to the rest of the world to be insulting each other, and yet to the two of them, they were really just teasing each other.

Draco's teasing Harry had been a far more gradual process, and had slowly developed in response to Harry teasing him, and prodding him into being a little more relaxed around him. It had taken a while to set in, but Draco finally seemed able to be himself around Harry. In fact, he was more 'himself' around Harry than he ever had been before and Harry found he actually rather liked this side of Draco. Their interactions in actual Potions and in any sort of public setting, still appeared to be that of rivals – albeit, rivals who were no longer violently at each other's throats – however their interactions were quite different in the safety of the Dark Arts Association meetings.

In the four DAA meetings that had taken place so far, Harry had quickly managed to gain the respect of all in attendance. Many were still clearly bewildered how Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, had turned into the person they were now exposed to on a bi-weekly basis, but they had come to accept that this person was obviously much more than any of them had ever suspected in the past.

Harry had done several mock duels with various members of the DAA to continue to prove himself to the group as well to demonstrate dueling techniques to those in attendance. He'd paired up with Draco once and spent the duel toying with Draco while skillfully and effortlessly avoiding everything Draco threw his way. He spent the duel taunting Draco, giving him pointers, and correcting Draco's form. Draco had snarked back at him, and Harry had merely chuckled in response. Oddly enough, instead of getting incredibly angry over this, Draco had started teasing Harry back. Things had merely grown from there.

Harry was quickly forming a comfortable relationship with several of the other DAA members. They were useful allies, but he also found himself far more comfortable socializing with them than he ever would have expected. They reminded him of the Death Eaters, but less serious, and of course, closer to his age. They were sort of his peers, although he was still far above any of them in skill and experience. Still, their presence was far easier to stand during his Hogwarts days than the Gryffindors, who often wore on his nerves.

Harry had been very successful at maintaining a very convincing facade around the Gryffindors, but oftentimes found their company mind numbing, and frequently wished for an escape from their ridiculous idiocy. Several times he'd considered sneaking down to the Slytherin common room to escape the noise that constantly filled the Gryffindor common room, but not

everySlytherin was in the DAA, so there would still be quite a group down there that would be shocked and bewildered by his appearance there. Not to mention, he wasn't under the security of the secrecy contract there.

So he just spent as much of his free time as possible in the library instead. He was even topping Hermione's old record for time spent in the library. Since he was there far more than was necessary for even his own class studying, it had become common for students from all the other houses to occasionally stop by his table and ask him questions. It was weird the first few times it happened. Harry wasn't even sure at what point he had become known as any sort of intellectual assistant. Hermione had told him that he was a very good teacher and made himself very approachable this year in the defense club, so people felt safe coming to him. It was unexpected, but he had to admit it could be useful. And so, he continued to make himself 'approachable' and put some effort into helping anyone who came to him.

During those weeks, he continued to reach out with his magic and check the ring on Dumbledore's hand at every meal and anytime he saw him anywhere else in the school. It had remained unchanged. It was still a horcrux, and still held a piece of Tom's soul. Dumbledore also

always

wore it, which was mildly frustrating. Even though Harry was making progress with the parsel phase spell, he still wouldn't be able to sneak in and steal the ring if Dumbledore never took the bloody thing off.

Another thing that had started during these two weeks was Quidditch practice. Harry had, however, managed to convince Angelina that Harry did not need to be there for every practice. She was holding practice twice a week, and one of them was scheduled at the same time as one of the DAA meetings. Harry had explained that he was student assisting in Professor Rowle's Advanced Defense Club and couldn't make it to every practice.

Fortunately, Seekers were not exactly team players. He was familiar with most of their plays and as long as he still attended one practice a week, he could stay up to date on any new ones they were practicing. Angelina had been a bit hesitant at first, but when Harry had suggested that if it was a huge problem, Ginny could just take over as Seeker, Angelina had exclaimed that there was no need to be hasty and that she would hate to lose Harry as their seeker. So she had allowed him to miss on half of the practices, so long as when it was the week before an actual game, he would put practice first and be willing to miss a club meeting or two. Harry was willing to accept that.

For the two practices that he had attended, Harry had spent most of the time cringing at Ron. The boy seemed almost bi-polar in his ability to perform. Sometimes he was almost brilliant and made some truly great saves. Other times he was like a bumbling orangutan on a flying stick. Nerves seemed to play a big role in Ron's performance and Harry could tell that Angelina was worried and possibly even second guessing her decision to pick Ron over McLaggan. McLaggan was a prat, but at least he was prat with consistent performance.

–

It was now mid-October and the Abbey was finally ready. The western wing of the castle now held any and every item that had been in the castle that could suggest who the castle had belonged to, while any and all traces of 'Potter' had been removed from the eastern wing where the Death Eaters would have free reign. The only way to get into the west wing was from a single double-doorway on the first floor just off the main entry hall and the large double doors were warded with a parsel pass-phrase. The house-elves could still pop anywhere in the house, of course, so it didn't stop them.

There were anti apparition wards around the entire castle. Harry and Tom were keyed into them so they could go anywhere freely, but the Death Eaters would only be able to apparate into the large entry hall at the front entrance of the castle. The wards prevented anyone who did not have the Dark Mark from apparating into the wards without express permission given by Harry or Tom. A Death Eater could apparate a single unmarked person in with them, but that person would be locked in the entry hall by a second layer of wards until Tom or Harry could personally allow their presence in the rest of the castle.

The castle was in the shape of a large U with the front entrance hall in the bottom center. Upon entering, you could either go forward, which would lead to a wall of glass doors that lead back outside to the back patio and the courtyard, and the gardens beyond. To each side were two short hallways with wide double-doors. The halls and doors to the left would take you to the east wing that would be open to all of the Death Eaters. Going to the right would head into the west wing that was Harry and Tom's private half of the large abbey.

Each side of the castle had its own spiral staircase connecting all of the floors together. From the East wing, if you took the stairs down, it would take you into the dungeons. It had eight individual holding cells and a large open torture room. On the first floor of the east wing was the kitchen, elf quarters, laundry, a large sitting room, a conference room, and a large dining room that the Death Eaters who would take up residence in the abbey would eat in.

Up the stairs to the second floor and you'd come upon a small hallway that lead to the large Banquet Hall where the training sessions and the mass meetings would be held. The second floor was also home to the smaller library that they would leave open for the Death Eaters to use. Second floor featured another, smaller meeting room, three bedrooms, and two bathrooms.

Third floor of the east wing was solely occupied by bedrooms and bathrooms.

On to the western wing. Taking the spiral stairs down would lead into a narrow hall with a warded door that would take you to the potions lab. Two small rooms came off of the lab, one a potion ingredient storeroom, and the other was a small bathroom so that neither would have to go all the way upstairs in the middle of lengthy brewing session or complicated magical object creation.

The first floor of the west wing most prominently featured the main library. It was very large filled with wall-to-wall bookcases as well as two rows of bookcases through the center. It also had its own fireplace, several tables, a couch and a few chairs for reading. Towards the front of the west wing, there was a music room that had an old grand piano in it. Harry had never even had the opportunity to touch a piano before. Tom had said that at some point he might show Harry a little, but the piano had never been one of his strengths. Harry had asked Tom if he knew how to play any other instruments and Tom had replied simply with 'violin.' and then quickly changed the subject.

A few of the other rooms in the first floor had once been classrooms back when the Abbey was a nunnery, but now they were mostly just extra furniture storage. The new time-turner closet had been set up on the first floor across from the music room and beside a large bathroom.

Up the spiral stairs to the second floor would lead to a plus-shaped junction. Two unused bedrooms, a bathroom, and a large room that Tom and Harry had set aside specifically for magical artifact storage filled the rooms on each of the corners of the intersection. Down the hall to the right led to the large office Tom and Harry had set up with two large desks, one for each Harry and Tom, a number of small bookcases, and a large fireplace. Taking the hall to the left led to the large drawing room where the Potter Family Tapestry resided, along with most of Harry's family member's portraits.

The third floor had the master bedroom with a large walk-in closet, and a connected master bath. Down the hall in the opposite direction were another small office, the gym, and another unused, smaller bedroom.

The unimportant rooms in the west wing were the least 'finished', but it was a pretty large castle with three floors worth of rooms. That was quite a lot for two people alone to use up. The eastern wing's rooms were all at least 'finished', however most of the bedrooms were fairly barren. A bed, dresser, wardrobe, and in some of the rooms, a closet. They figured that whoever took up residence in each room could flesh them out further to suit their own needs and desires.

The elf quarters currently had enough room for eight elves to live comfortably, although an additional two beds could be added easily since they were rather small, but since they currently only had six elves, it wasn't yet necessary. The elves themselves all seemed quite happy with the outcome of the abbey. They were proud of how far it had come in the last month and a half and were eager for their master's followers to come to the abbey so that they would have more wizards to serve.

One of the more significant modifications that Tom had made to the castle, was actually one of the least obvious. Being an ancient castle, it had no central ventilation system. Even after it had been remodeled by the Potters, it had been heated and cooled through magical means so any such muggle heating system was unnecessary. Tom had magically added in a system of space-expanded tunnels that connected much of the castle's rooms, both east and western wings, so that Nagini, and Harry in his sea krait form, could travel easily where ever they desired without having to deal with the doors.

Late that night at 11:00pm, so only a half hour after Harry had arrived at the manor for the night, Tom summoned

all

of the Death Eaters to the ballroom at Riddle Manor. This would be the meeting where the new castle would be announced. After this day, the manor would be locked down and even Harry and Tom would likely not return.

They gave the Death Eaters twenty minutes to gather after the initial summons since many would not have been prepared for this unexpected call. The group was standing in the crowded ballroom quietly talking amongst themselves, wondering what was going on.

Finally, Harry as Evan Harris and Voldemort entered the ballroom with their robes billowing behind them for dramatic effect. The pair came to stand at the head of the hall and looked out over the group of men and women in black robes and the occasional white mask.

"This gathering will be brief," Voldemort began looking out over the large group. Their recruiting efforts had never stopped and the ballroom was nearing maximum capacity. It was a good thing that the banquet hall in the abbey was larger. "I have gathered you all here tonight to inform you that we have completed work on a new headquarters. The next time you use your mark to apparate in for a meeting, it will take you to the new location rather than coming here.

"Our new headquarters is considerably larger than this manor and it has room to support those of our ranks that need a secure place to stay, away from the eyes and wands of the Ministry and its Aurors. The eastern wing of the castle will be freely open to any of you. It has several meeting rooms and a library that you will have access to for your missions. The castle has fourteen bedrooms in the eastern wing that I will make available to those who need them. The western wing is strictly off limits. If at any point you are in the castle and in need to contact either myself or Evan call upon one of the house elves."

Voldemort went on to explain a few more things before addressing a few specific groups that were supposed to be coming for meetings the following day, informing them exactly where to go upon arriving at the castle. He then called for Wormtail and for Barty to remain behind and dismissed the rest.

Once the room was cleared of everyone except for 'Evan', Voldemort, Barty, and Wormtail, Voldemort spoke again.

"Do either of you require a more secure place to live?" he asked.

Wormtail blinked owlishly and his mouth hung open for a moment while Barty's eyes simply widened in dawning understanding.

"My current living arrangements are a bit... unstable." Barty admitted.

Wormtail fidgeted and looked a bit uncomfortable.

"Well, Wormtail?" Voldemort drawled impatiently.

"I erm... my Lord... I have been erm... living mostly in my animagus form..."

Voldemort sneered and Harry rolled his eyes.

"I thought as much. Wormtail, you are a security risk and little more. You know far too much sensitive information to be roaming around free and practically defenseless where anyone with a rattrap or casting the

Hominum

Revilio

spell could catch you. We also know that Dumbledore's Order has been informed of your animagus form and are actively looking for you. If you came upon any one of them you would likely end up captured and I don't trust your ability to keep sensitive information to yourself under pressure of certain potions or Dumbledore's mind magic."

Wormtail looked a bit incensed at the suggestion that he was 'defenseless', but his annoyance was quickly cowed into submissive terror when the Dark Lord glared at him.

"If you were to get caught or even

seen

and recognized, it could cause a tremendous amount of trouble. As much as I disliked your company here in the manor, I see little alternative but to have you come live in the abbey. At least it's large enough that I will rarely have to deal with you personally. Barty, you are also welcome to come live there as well. We have a staff of house elves that will provide three meals a day as well as basic housekeeping."

"Thank you, my Lord. That is most gracious of you and I humbly accept. I am curious... the 'abbey', you called it?" Barty asked.

Voldemort grimaced slightly and Harry smirked before speaking. "The new headquarters' name is Morhda Abbey. It's a rather large castle. Belonged to my family, actually. We've been fixing it up since September."

"Your

family?" Barty asked back with raised eyebrows and a spark of amusement in his eyes. Harry smirked. Wormtail just looked confused. He was the only one in the group that didn't know that Evan Harris was actually Harry Potter.

"Now that that is settled, shall we be going? The two of you can follow and I shall have the elves direct you to your rooms. You can then leave and return to collect your own belongings." Voldemort said to Wormtail and Barty.

The two Death Eaters thanked him and bowed. Then they followed Harry and Voldemort as they left the ballroom and returned to the entrance hall. Voldemort ordered Wormtail to expose his left forearm and he pressed his wand to the cowering man's Dark Mark. Wormtail flinched and whimpered deep in his throat for a moment until the Dark Lord retracted his wand.

Harry noticed that during the interaction, Barty had flinched slightly and twitched his left hand. Tom had just reset

all

of the Death Eaters marks to now apparate them to Morhda Abbey instead of Riddle Manor.

"Your marks will now take you to the abbey." Voldemort said simply before he turned to 'Evan', the pair nodded silently at each other, and then quickly disappeared with two soft cracks.

Barty and Wormtail each pressed their own wands to their marks and apparated. The two Death Eaters appeared in a large, spacious entry hall. Behind them were the main doors. To each side was a short bit of hallway before coming to a wall with wide double-doors, and directly in front of them was a wall of glass doors leading out to a stone patio, steps, and a courtyard only faintly illuminated by magical lights.

'Evan' and the Dark Lord were standing a few feet away from them, speaking quietly to each other. Voldemort nodded at Harry before turning back to the other two men. "Barty, Evan will show you around.

Grader!" he called out.

A moment later a waist-tall, gangly-looking house elf appeared. "Yes, Master?"

"Lead Wormtail to the green room on the third floor." Voldemort ordered dismissively.

"Yes master!" the elf said excitedly before turning and looking expectantly at the short, fat, balding man. "Right this way, Mr. Wormy!"

Wormtail grimaced at the name and hesitated for only a moment before quickly hurrying after the excited elf.

They went through the double-doors on the left that lead to the east wing and Harry turned to Barty.

"Well, you've got your pick of the rooms. We just gave the smallest one to 'Wormy'." Harry said with a chuckle.

"I'll be in the office." Voldemort said as he turned towards the doors on the right.

"Alright, I'll be up in a bit." Harry called after him. Voldemort quietly hissed the password to open the doors to the western wing and disappeared inside. Harry turned back to Barty and grinned. "There're only two bedrooms on the second floor. They're both a decent size, but they share a bathroom. Third floor has most of the bedrooms, and a few of them are larger or have big closets, but none of them have private baths. One of them has its own fireplace, but it's not hooked up to the floo network."

Barty blinked at him before he shook his head and chuckled. "How about you just take me up there and I have a look at them?"

Harry grinned. "Sure."

They went to the left and headed through the same double-doors that Grader had led Wormtail through a few minutes earlier. As they walked, Harry pointed to various doors and explained what they were.

"Through that door is the sitting room. Good table for poker, some couches, a few bookcases, although there's not much in there right now. Through there is the kitchen." They turned to the right and kept going. "Through that door," Harry said, point to his right, "is the largest conference room we set up. Can hold ten people comfortably. There's another conference room on the second floor, and a smaller meeting hall as well."

After passing it, they came to a small hallway that turned right from the one they were in. They paused there for a moment. "If we kept going down this hall, at the end is the dining room. You can go there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The elves will let you know when they'll be serving food. The elf quarters are also down here." He turned into the small hallway and at the end they entered the tower where the spiral stairs were located.

"If you went down, you'd get to the dungeons. We setup eight heavily warded cells, and one fair-sized

playroom." Harry said, with a wicked grin that caused Barty to raise a single eyebrow before he grinned and chuckled. The two headed up the stairs and Harry continued the tour.

"Down at the end of this hall," Harry said, pointing to their left after they exited the stairs, "is the Banquet Hall where we'll be holding the training sessions. We've already got all of the training dummies set up in there. If you turn right from there and go to the end, you'll find the library. We have a bigger one in the western wing with a larger selection, but it's our private stash and we're not about to leave that open for just anyone to take from. Anyway, here're the two bedrooms..."

The tour continued on for a while longer as Harry continued onto the third floor, pointed out which door went to the 'green room' that they'd assigned Wormtail, and gave Barty the basic rundown of the eastern wing of the abbey.

Barty chuckled lightly to himself after Harry had finished describing finding a portrait of one of his ancestors in the room they were currently in, and some interesting details the woman had told him about when she had personally decorated the room about a century earlier.

"What's funny?" Harry asked, turning back to Barty.

"I was just thinking about how absurd it is that a bunch of Death Eaters are going to be rooming in an ancient

Potter

castle." Barty said, smirking.

Harry laughed. "It's really not that absurd. People seem to have this idea in their heads that the Potters are some old Light family, but they're not."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. Apparently the strong alignment with the Light is fairly recent. My dad and granddad were both staunch Light wizards, but before them, most Potters were neutral, or even Dark."

"For real?" Barty exclaimed, clearly surprised.

"Yeah. My Great-grandfather, Harrison Potter – the one I was named after, I might add," Harry snickered, "was a

Slytherin!

His brother was a Ravenclaw."

"No way!" Barty laughed.

"Yeah. My granddad, Charlus Potter, grew up here, but left as soon as he graduated Hogwarts and apparently hardly ever came back, even to visit his parents. He was a very opinionated

Light

wizard. Hated anything to do with the Dark and raised his son the same way. It's no wonder my father was so easily manipulated by Dumbledore and was so eager to join up with the Order."

"Your father was manipulated by Dumbledore?" Barty asked and then chuckled to himself. "Not that I'm surprised really. I don't think that anyone who works closely for the old coot

doesn't

get manipulated, I just wasn't aware there was a specific story."

Harry snorted. "Oh yes. Interesting tidbit of information. My grandfather, Charlus Potter, retained full control over the Potter Family Vaults up until his death, which was only two years before my parents died. He may have been a Light wizard, and he supported Dumbledore's politics, but he did not support being fiscally

irresponsible

with the family fortune. He wouldn't let my dad

touch

the family money or properties, and left stipulations in his will with the goblins not to let my father spend more than 2% of the total in the vault each year except for a few very specific emergency situations.

"When I first saw the paperwork behind all this, I wondered why he would do that, but the goblins couldn't give me any explanations. I asked the portrait of Charlus Potter about it and it turns out that my father had his own personal account since a very young age with a very,

very

sizable sum of money in it. He gave away nearly

all

of it to Dumbledore to help 'fund the war'." Harry scoffed.

"Dumbledore managed to convince my dad to 'donate' hundreds of thousands of galleons, so he was practically broke when we had to go into hiding. The house in Godric's Hollow where I was born and grew up? It's

tiny. Out of all the properties that I inherited, it's the absolute smallest with less than 2,000 square feet, total. And even it was paid for as a gift from my grandmum to my parents when they got married.

"But that's just the money side of things." Harry continued. "There's also the fact that Dumbledore tricked my parents with this huge false prophecy he concocted. Lied to them, point blank, about me and what his Seer supposedly saw about me and my involvement with the Dark Lord. The whole thing was really just to lure the Dark Lord into a trap. He used me as bait, tricked my parents into a false sense of security by performing their Fidelius charm, but talking them into using Wormtail as the secret keeper, even though he probably knew that Pettigrew had taken the Dark Mark. He wanted us to be sitting ducks for when the Dark Lord showed up to off me. He threw us away." Harry huffed and shook his head. "The man is a dirty bastard, and my father was a fool to follow him."

"Well, you certainly have your fair share of reasons to hate the man." Barty remarked.

Harry snorted. "You have no idea."

– –

Harry climbed between the black satin sheets and the heavy comforter and sighed happily and he cocooned himself in the warm blankets. He heard Tom's deep chuckle from across the room as the elder wizard came out from the bathroom draped in nothing but a lightweight black silk over-robe.

"Don't you look comfortable." Tom remarked. Harry just grinned at him, causing Tom to shake his head and chuckle. "You're in an awfully good mood. Any particular reason?" Tom asked as he began to near the bed.

"I think I'm just glad that we're officially done with the move." Harry said with a one-shoulder shrug as he rolled onto his back and stretched his arms up over his head. "It's sort of weird, because, I mean – we've been sleeping here in this room for a while now, but tonight it feels like it's finally official. That this is now one-hundred-percent

our

home."

Tom smiled and nodded his head softly in understanding. "So does that mean that the manor wasn't 'ours'?"

Harry's mouth twisted a bit. "Well... maybe. I mean, it felt really good there this summer. I felt more at home there than I had ever felt anywhere else, but it wasn't

ours, per se. It was still

yours. I feel like we made this castle inhabitable

together. It's filled with both of our things and we worked together to make this a home for us. Plus, I know that part of you disliked the manor because it belonged to your muggle father."

Tom grimaced for a moment before looking back at Harry and grinning. "You're right. And I am glad to put that place behind me, completely."

Harry smiled and then pushed himself up onto his elbows while he patted the spot beside him. "Are you going to just stand there and keep me waiting, or are you going to get over here and fuck me?"

Tom scoffed, but couldn't entirely subdue the grin threatening to curl up his lips. "Impertinent brat."

"Of course." Harry replied, smirking, playfully.

Tom reached up, undid the clasp and pushed the loose over-robe he was wearing off his shoulders, allowing it to pool onto the floor at his feet. Harry's eyes widened minutely before his lids drooped heavily with desire. Tom smirked back triumphantly at the lust he felt coming off the younger wizard in waves in response to his nude form on full display for Harry's hungry eyes.

"Dear Circe, Tom... you are so bloody beautiful." Harry whispered with an air of awe to his husky voice.

"Beautiful, am I? No, love,

you

are the one that's beautiful. My own personal Adonis. Youth, perfected in form. Flesh sculpted by a master craftsman." Tom said as he walked over to the bed and pulled the comforter back, exposing a nude Harry beneath it. Harry gasped slightly at the sudden exposure to the cooler air of the room.

"An Adonis, am I?" Harry replied in a slightly teasing voice, once he'd recovered from the shock. "I thought my

youth

made you uncomfortable?"

"It was never truly your age that worried me. I suppose if I am being honest, my largest concern was that others would think I was some sort of pedophile. But I know I'm not. It has never been your youth that I am attracted to. It's

you. To hell with the rest of the world. I am a Dark Lord and I do not give a damn what anyone else

thinks. Didn't you ask me once why I would allow the opinion of other's matter to me in this, when I had never bothered to give a damn about them in any other regard?"

Harry chuckled weakly and fell back completely against his pillow as Tom straddled his waist and leaned over, placing each of his hands on either side of Harry's head. Their naked groins rubbed against each other and Harry moaned quietly as a shock of pleasure washed over him.

"I think I may have said something like that a time or two." Harry said with a breathy voice as Tom's head lowered and his lips pressed gently against Harry's.

Tom pulled back a few inches and the two locked eyes. "I love you so damn much, Harry, it's absurd. The tremendous extent to which things have changed, is astounding. A year ago, I hardly even had a body, if you can even call that homunculus a body at all. My entire existence was about hate. Hate and vengeance overwhelmed even my desire to return to my

Task. I held a depth of loathing for you greater than the deepest chasms of the oceans. I blamed you and Dumbledore for all my woes and my decade of suffering as a spirit, and yet now I can't imagine living a day without you by my side. You've given me the ability to step away from pure hate and feel love for the first time in my wretched, selfish, egocentric life. You

saved

me, Harry. You did not just give me a body back, you gave me a life I never thought I would have."

Harry stared up at Tom, dumbstruck by the sudden, unexpected confession. "Tom..." Harry whispered, unsure what to even say.

"Shh... Harry..." Tom paused for a moment before looking back with determination. "I wish to announce you to the Death Eaters as my Consort."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You... wha... I... Consort? What exactly does that mean? A consort is like a... a spouse, right? Tom are... are you asking me to

marry

you?"

Tom's head fell down slightly as he grinned and chuckled lightly. "I suppose so." He looked back up and his face was light and soft. His ruby eyes seemed to be warring between that legitimately happy shine that was only ever for Harry, and hesitant worry. Tom pushed himself up onto his knees, still straddling Harry's waist and Harry pushed himself up onto his elbows.

Harry's eyes went down and he couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that they were still naked, and both of them were still at least partially aroused. The position they were in was probably not one often used for marriage proposals. But then again, what the hell did Harry know about such things? "Aren't you supposed to be down on one knee or something?" Harry asked, joking to cover his sudden nerves.

Tom rolled his eyes and gave Harry a crooked grin. "You should know by now I am far from traditional. Although I suppose I was not currently expecting anything so formal as a ceremony or vows. Unless you specifically want that, of course. I thought that perhaps we might engage in something of the sort later on. Maybe after you've finished Hogwarts. Or perhaps when you actually become of age which I estimate will likely be this coming summer, given your continued time-turner use."

Harry blinked at Tom, still somewhat dumbstruck by all of this just appearing, seemingly out of nowhere. "So what brought this on? And... I hate to admit this, but I really don't know anything about what the term 'Consort' specifically means. What exactly...?" Harry's voice trailed off unsure.

"It would be a declaration to my followers that you are my equal and are to be treated with respect and absolute deference. That you have the same level of authority over them that I do. I know that at least a few of the Death Eaters – especially a few of those that we will be recovering from Azkaban – will likely have trouble accepting any authority an 'apprentice' could possibly hold over them. However my

Consort

is another matter."

"But what about the Death Eaters who know that Harry Potter and Evan Harris are one and the same? They'll realize that you and I are... you know.

Involved. Are you sure you're okay with that?"

Tom snorted mildly and rolled his eyes. "Only Barty and Thorfinn know, and I believe they are both trustworthy enough to know the truth. I know you're quite fond of both of them. Even the others who are aware of 'Harry Potter' having joined my side, are unaware of your connection to 'Evan Harris'."

Harry nodded slowly. "So... a

consort?"

"Consort is the term usually used for the spouse of a monarch or a deity."

Harry laughed. "Your ego..." he trailed off, teasingly, earning him a playful bop on the head.

"Brat."

"A brat that you apparently want to

marry." Harry teased before looking thoughtful. "This is really for real?" he asked suddenly.

Tom's face softened and he looked more vulnerable than Harry had ever seen him before. "If you are uncomfortable with the idea, Harry, you can say no."

Harry and Tom locked eyes and stared into each other's depths for a long moment. One of Harry's hands came up slowly and his fingers threaded into Tom's soft black hair, pulling him down and gently pressing their lips together.

"You're absurd, Tom. Of course it's a yes," Harry whispered a moment later as their lips parted only enough for Harry to speak. "I love you. I am yours now, and forever. You're a part of me. Quite literally." Harry chuckled. "You've nestled your way deep inside me, and I'll never let you go. If you're honestly willing to let the Death Eaters know what we mean to each other... how could I say no to that?"

Tom got a triumphant gleam in his eyes, but it was overpowered by the sense of pure elation and happiness Harry could sense over their bond.

"Together, you and I will be unstoppable." Tom said and he came down and claimed Harry's lips with a fierce intensity. Harry moaned into Tom's mouth and his hands came up, wrapping around Tom's back and neck.

Tom ground his hips against Harry's for a moment, eliciting another pleasured moan, and Harry found himself instinctively arching his back and trying to bring himself closer to the glorious friction.

Tom pulled away again, a bit breathless and looking down at the younger wizard with a fiercely elated gleam in his eyes and an excited smile on his face. He looked so youthful in that moment that Harry was actually startled out of his deep lustful haze.

"We're going to do it, Harry. I just know that with you by my side, I'll succeed. We'll dismantle the pathetic excuse for a government those of magic have to rely upon right now and rebuild something great! We'll restore the greatness our kind once had, but make it even better. A world worthy of the wonders and power of magic. And we'll protect our kind from whatever insanity the muggles will bring down upon us."

Harry stared up at Tom, a bit awestruck by the fierce determination in Tom's voice and the utter confidence the man seemed to possess in that moment. Slowly Harry's expression softened into a smile and he nodded his head. "We will."

Tom's eyes locked with Harry's again and his expression took on a wicked gleam. "I am going to utterly ravage you, Harry."

Harry's eyes widened a bit. "Is that a promise or a threat?"

*Lemon Warning*

Tom laughed loudly before crashing down and attacking Harry's lips with his own. The response was more than enthusiastic and moments later the two where moaning and writhing against each other, desperately racing towards their mutual goal.

The jar of lube was wandlessly summoned and Harry was prepared while Tom made love to his cock with his mouth. Finally, there was penetration. Harry was folded nearly in half with his feet up over Tom's shoulders while the elder set a heavy pace.

"Oh Merlin! There! Right there! Oh! Oh fuck!" Harry screamed as Tom thrust deeply into him, panting and hissing incoherently in pleasure.

§Ssso tight... sssooo fucking beautiful. My Harry... Mine forever...§,

Tom hissed between heavy pants and thrust. "Say your mine, Harry." Tom said suddenly, speaking in English again.

"I'm yours!" Harry screamed out, instantly. "Oh fuck, Tom. Just... don't stop... don't... oh Merlin... there! Right...

fuck... there!"

"Ahh!"

Tom called out as Harry's muscles clenched tightly around him and the powerful wave of pure pleasure from Harry's completion washed across the link, instantly triggering his own powerful ejaculation.

The two shook and shuddered in each other's tight embrace for a moment before the shock waves died away and Tom collapsed onto Harry's chest. His softening cock slipped out of Harry and the younger wizard slipped his legs free and laid flat on his back, softly panting while Tom rested his entire body on top of him.

*/Lemon*

Tom hummed in happiness and Harry felt the utter contentment the man was feeling and basked gloriously in the feeling. That he had filled Tom with that feeling was one of his most gratifying achievements.

"So if we were to get married, would I take your last name?" Harry asked, jokingly.

Tom chuckled and shifted his body so that he was now lying directly beside Harry so that he wouldn't crush him. "Harry Riddle? Merlin, the thought hadn't even crossed my mind."

Harry snickered and turned onto his side and stretched his arm across Tom's torso. "There's some magic ritual that some of the older family do where the woman's name is changed, magically, right? And all documents referring to her legal name are automatically updated? Can you imagine the reaction that would happen if we did that? If, suddenly, my name in all the school documents changed to Harry Riddle?"

Tom snorted. "Dumbledore might die right then and there of a heart attack."

Harry laughed. "Yeah... although he's probably the only one who would understand the significance, since no one else really knows your real name."

"It's quite likely that McGonagall knows my real name. She and I attended Hogwarts at the same time, after all. She was two years ahead of me, though." The two were quiet for a calm minute before Tom spoke again. "All joking aside... would you actually want to take my name?"

Harry hummed in thought. "You know... I think so. At least, I would at some point. I know right now it would complicate our plans too much."

Tom nodded. "It would."

"So when were you thinking of announcing me to the minions as your consort?"

Tom snorted at the term 'minions'. "I'm not sure yet. I'll have to think of the best time. Whether I should wait until after we have recovered those from Azkaban or if I should announce your position to the others before hand... I'll think about it."

Harry nodded his head and then yawned.

"It's late. Let's go to sleep." Tom said and Harry nodded his head and hummed in agreement. A flick of Tom's wrist and a bit of wandless magic was all that was needed to turn the light off from the bathroom, cutting off the only light that had been illuminating the dim room, and washing the pair in darkness.

"G'night, Tom." Harry mumbled as he buried his face into Tom's chest.

"Good night, love." Tom replied, placing a kiss on Harry's forehead.

– –

AN: So like I said at the start of the chapter – Tom's 'proposal' was totally unplanned in my outline. I was writing the scene and out of nowhere, Tom suddenly insisted that he wanted to propose. I actually set the story aside for a day while I debated deleting the last few pages and sticking to my plan, or reworking my plan to incorporate this unexpected development. In the end, I decided to keep it. So, there you have it. Hah.

So this is chapter 19. Chapter 20 is off to my beta already. Chapter 21 will be heading off to her shortly as well. It may be a bit of a pause (like 3 or 4 days more) before Chapter 22 is ready. I've decided I need to rewrite a chunk of it because I'm just not happy with it. But after that, will be another big break while I write more of the story.

. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary:

Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta

Pass

by tannne

AN:

– –

Chapter 20

It was now the morning of the second Friday in October, October the 12th. There was a Defense and Dueling Association meeting that evening after dinner and Harry was mildly looking forward to it. Harry had History that morning, then Potions, and then Transfiguration after lunch. After that, he had a free period that he would actually be spending with Thor, assisting in one of his Defense classes. It was something he had started a few weeks earlier since he had a free block that none of his friends had.

Harry had no class at the end of Friday, but Hermione had Arithmancy, and Ron had Divination. Ginny and Luna both had classes as well. So, Harry visited Thor and sat in on his fourth year Defense class. It was a mix of Slytherins and Ravenclaws, and it was actually a fun class to observe and help with. Thor had already taken to covering a few mild Dark spells with the group. They were all defensive spells, rather than offensive spells, but they were still

Dark

and most definitely not in the textbook.

Thor had supplied them all with supplemental reading packets he had prepared himself, and had the ward stones in place, in the defense classroom as an extra precaution.

It was obvious to Harry and Thor that some of the students realized exactly what sort of spells they were practicing, but the ones who

noticed

were also the ones who appreciated it the most and weren't about to go telling anyone. The rest of the students were blissfully ignorant of the Darker nature of the spells they had practiced, as none of them seemed any more violent or dangerous than any of the other classes they practiced in any of their classes.

–

The plan for that evening's Dueling and Defense Association meeting involved Thor introducing the first truly Dark, offensive spell for the group to practice. It was going to be a delicate experiment. First and foremost, to see if anyone would call them on the affinity of the spell, but also to see who in the class was actually able to cast it.

Harry's mind was so focused on what was going to be happening at the

end

of the day, that he was, admittedly, a bit distracted as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast that morning. He sat down at the Gryffindor table beside Hermione and across from Ron and began to pile food onto his plate with a sleepy, unfocused expression on his face. He was brought out of his morning haze by the sound of Hermione gasping beside him.

Harry turned his head and blinked owlishly at the girl who had her face utterly buried in the Daily Prophet.

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"Harry! Look at this!" Hermione exclaimed as she moved a few dishes out of the way and smoothed the paper out between them. It was open to page two and a large headline at the top center read 'New Study Proposes Radical ideas on the Origin of Magic in Muggleborns!'

Harry had to fight to school his expression and keep the smirk off his lips. He'd wondered when this would finally make the Prophet.

A new study that has been published simultaneously in the 'Journal of Magical Genealogical Study', and 'Trends in Magical Genealogy' entitled 'The Annihilation of the Muggleborn Myth'. The study, led by

Professor Phoebus Penrose of the

Royal Academy for the Advancement of Magics, claims that the idea of any magical person descending entirely from non-magical muggles is impossible. The study states that every muggleborn witch or wizard who participated in the study was, in reality, the descendant of a squib cast out from a magical family. The study states that all people with magic have to have a magical person somewhere in their family tree. That it is, in fact, impossible for a person with only muggle ancestors to

develop spontaneously

the ability to use magic.

The article went on from there, describing a few more of the claims the study made, and then going into the reactions of a few noteworthy individuals who were interviewed for their opinion. Among those to give their reactions, were quite a few politically powerful purebloods who one would instantly expect to denounce such claims. However, none of them did. They all sang the praises of the study and said that this information needed to be more closely examined and that there were deep repercussions to come if such findings were to be true.

Hermione seemed exceptionally shocked when Lucius Malfoy was quoted as showing his support of further investigation into the study's findings. Ron's face seemed to turn red and pucker up with indignation at that. It seemed his instinct was to instantly distrust anything that a Malfoy put their support behind, but Ron shocked Harry with a display of marginal intelligence, when the ginger refrained from speaking against the article as it became blatantly obvious that Hermione was so excited by it.

One of the people quoted in the article said that the old families should each make an effort to track down any squibs that might have come from their lines and see if they had any descendents who were actively magical. That any so-called 'muggleborns' who were determined to be members of old wizarding families should be welcomed back and taught the traditions of their families. Anything to promote the muggleborns being fully included into magical society so that they don't feel the need to escape back into the muggle world and produce magically weaker offspring by marrying muggles.

Another section then went on to quote some of Professor Pheobus Penrose's paper about how too much muggle blood introduction into the family tree eventually results in weakened witches and wizards. If a squib manages to produce a magical heir, that heir should be instantly welcomed back to prevent any further contamination by muggle blood.

This part was even

more

heavily agreed with by Malfoy and several other old pureblood wizards, and at

this

part, Ron's self-control finally slipped and he made a few snide remarks. Hermione had given him a sharp glare at that and he had instantly shut up.

Ginny had come over to see what the big deal was and had ended up reading over their shoulders. After a bit of discussion, Ginny's attention seemed drawn away from the main article and she frowned as she read one of the smaller articles in the lower left-hand corner of the page.

'Ministry Hit-Wizard Found Dead in his Home at age 58'

Alastor Gumboil, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's Hit-Wizard division, was found dead in his home yesterday by one of his friends and co-workers who came to check on him when he was absent from work for two days in a row.

Mr. Gumboil was taken to St. Mungo's for a full investigation into what caused his unexpected death. In what turns out to be quite the scandal, it appears that Mr. Gumboil was partaking in illegal potions of the mind-altering sort, and managed to take one potion too many, bringing about his untimely demise.

Mr. Gumboil has been succeeded by Albert Runcorn who will now assume the position of Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Hit-Wizard Division.

Harry noticed where Ginny's gaze had shifted to and quickly skimmed over the article as well. Once again, he had to fight off the smirk that threatened to spread across his face.

He would have to congratulate Runcorn on his promotion at the next meeting he had with him at the Abbey, he thought with a mental snicker.

"Hey, Ron?" Ginny said, looking up from the paper.

"Yeah?" Ron replied around a mouth full of food. Ginny grimaced at her brother, but continued.

"Wasn't dad friends with Alastor Gumboil?"

Ron frowned and his face pinched a bit as if he were trying really hard to remember something. Finally, he just shrugged and made a non-committal noise around another mouth-full of food.

"I 'unno?" he managed to mumble out.

Ginny huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Alastor Gumboil?" Hermione asked, looking at Ginny with mild confusion.

Ginny pointed to the article and Hermione quickly read it.

Discussion of the articles eventually had to be cut short when breakfast ended and they all had to head off to their classes.

– –

That evening Harry cut out of dinner early and headed up, into the large classroom that was used for the two 'defense' clubs. Thor was already there, getting the ward stones ready, and Harry quickly set to assisting him.

Just before 7 o'clock, the students began to arrive from dinner and gathered in the room. Among them were Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville. Most of the students who were prefects also attended the meeting – although the Slytherin and two of the Ravenclaw prefects were actually in the DAA instead of the DDA – and Harry had become rather friendly with all of the other prefects thanks to the prefect meetings he attended every week.

Harry went over and chatted lightly with Hermione and the others while they waited for everyone to arrive, and several other students came up to Harry and asked him various questions. Some were about the previous DDA lesson, while others were simply questions about general class work. Spells they had trouble getting to work for them, or magical theories that they couldn't quite grasp.

"You know Harry – I know that at one point you were thinking of being an Auror, but I have to say, I think you'd make a wonderful teacher," Hermione observed after a Hufflepuff fifth year left to rejoin her friend on the other side of the room.

Harry turned and blinked at Hermione before ducking his head a bit and shrugging. "I might not mind that... eventually." Harry murmured after a moment. That was when Thor blew a sharp whistle with his fingers in his mouth to draw everyone's attention to the head of the class and quiet them all down.

"Gotta go," Harry said quickly to his friends before he trotted up to the front of the class.

Thor quickly got the meeting underway by reviewing some of the dueling spells they had discussed in the last meeting and asking a few random people in the room to state their observations on the benefits and deficiencies of several different dueling styles they had discussed and Thor had instructed them all to read up on.

"There are three new offensive spells that I am going to teach you all today in this lesson," Thor said in his booming voice. "You may not all be able to cast all three of them. Some of you may only manage one of them, and that's alright. Not everyone has the aptitude to perform every spell ever created. They are all of about the same level and difficulty to perform, they're just different sorts of spells."

Thor began to pace slowly across the front of the room like he always did when he got deep into lecture mode and Harry just stood off to the side and watched with a small smile on his face. He really admired the man, if he was being honest with himself. Thor was a good dueler – although Harry knew he could best him if he had to – but mostly Thor was a good teacher. He had slipped into the role of teaching large groups fairly easily – especially considering that, all of his teaching experience prior to this had been with far smaller groups. Usually one-on-one.

Thor went on to describe the three spells. One was an offensive Light spell. It made the opponent lightheaded and giddy and caused them to feel like all of their woes were gone. They would lose all desire to fight because, as far as they were concerned, everything was right with the world and there was no need for violence. It was actually a fairly tricky spell to pull off. Its downside was that it only lasted for about half a minute at the most – during that time, you would be best served to restrain them through some other means, like a body bind jinx, or a petrifying curse. It was the perfect example of an offensive light spell since, if successful, it would usually end a conflict without any violence. The opponent would just give up. In fact, most offensive Light spells were forms of mind manipulation. It was no wonder the Light Lord was so accomplished at messing with people's minds.

The second spell was an offensive Neutral spell. It was a spell that, if you hit your mark, would cause your opponent to be spun around quite quickly several turns, causing dizziness, and binding their legs in an invisible sort of magical rope, and then cause them to fall over.

The third spell was an offensive Dark spell. Harry and Thor had decided to do this first foray into exposure to Dark Magic this way so that no one could come straight out and accuse them of introducing

just

Dark magic. They could claim an unbiased stance since they were introducing a spell from each affinity. The added advantage was that they could see which students in the group got the Light spell to work the fastest and easiest, and know that it was

those

students that, they would need to be most cautious about.

The Dark spell being taught that day was sort of a counterpoint to the Light spell. It would cause utter despair in your opponent. Hopelessness would fill your opponent for about half a minute if you were able to put enough power into the spell. It would cause your opponent to no longer see any value in fighting you because they would know and fully accept that they were going to lose no matter what they did, and they would simply give up.

It was surprisingly uncommon for a Dark spell to work this way. It took Thor a bit to track down a spell of appropriate difficulty that, would be a non-violent counterpart to the Light spell they had chosen to use. Most offensive Dark spells resorted to some sort of physical damage because it was far more permanent and reliable. A person skilled at all in Occlumency could prevent either of these two Light and Dark spells from working. Of course, Occlumency was a far rarer skill among Light wizards. Dark wizarding family, in contrast, often began teaching the skill to their children as soon as they reached age 13. Some would accuse them of being paranoid and not trusting people. Dark wizards, however, would insist they were simply being cautious and intelligent.

Thor went through the proper incantations and wand movements with the group and had them all practice it in front of him while in a row so that he could make sure they were performing the movements correctly before he let them lose to work with their partners practicing performing the spells.

Harry and Thor both kept their eyes open and keenly observed the group as they began to try casting the three spells.

From Harry's viewpoint, he could see all of the Gryffindors very clearly, as well as Luna, who was practicing with Ginny. On her first try, Luna had Ginny giggling dreamily before the ginger girl sat down onto the floor, laid back and looked up at the ceiling sighing happily and letting her wand roll away.

Okay, so Luna was clearly capable of Light magic with very little effort.

Hermione seemed to be trying the Light spell first as well, but she had an utterly frustrated scowl on her face as she continued to perform the wand movements and the incantation correctly, but just couldn't get the spell to cast. Ron was her partner and he was trying it as well as getting no response. Hermione continued to try with no success, but as Ron continued his efforts, Hermione's eyes suddenly glazed over a bit and a serene smile spread across her lips. Ron looked stunned when he realized that he had actually cast the spell successfully before

Hermione

had.

During all of this, Luna had canceled her successful spell on Ginny and allowed her to continue practicing the spell. It was difficult to tell exactly when Ginny's spell had actually worked on Luna since her normal expression was remarkably similar to the one induced by the spell, but according to Luna, Ginny

had

gotten the spell to work. The pair of them then went onto the Neutral spell, and both were both able to spin the other once or twice within three times of trying the spell, although neither had induced the tornado-like spin, or the bound legs yet.

Harry observed Neville's progress and saw the boy glowing with pride as he managed the Neutral spell perfectly on his third try, against Su Li – a Ravenclaw in their year. Neville smiled widely over at Harry who gave him an encouraging nod of his head.

Ron tried and marginally succeeded in making Hermione a bit hazy and giddy a couple times more before the two of them both switched to the neutral spell. Hermione managed it successfully on her forth try and some of her confidence seemed restored. Ron managed to make Hermione spin a few times, and managed to induce some dizziness, but never fully managed the binding aspect of the spell.

Harry paid particular attention when he saw that Ginny and Luna were moving on to the Dark spell. Again, Luna managed it fairly quickly. Not as quick as the Light spell, but she undoubtedly succeeded in casting it.

Interesting...

Ginny looked terribly depressed, dropped her wand, and tears began to stream down her cheeks. Luna canceled the spell and waited a moment while Ginny recovered herself.

He continued to watch the pair as Ginny attempted casting the spell on Luna. He was rather surprised when she seemed to have success on her third attempt. It wasn't quite as dramatic as Luna's success, but she had clearly managed the spell to some extent.

Harry kept his eyes open and observed everyone else as well. Since success meant having a terribly depressed partner, it wasn't difficult to pick out which students were succeeding with the Dark spell. Harry made a mental note of each and every one who had completely managed it, as well as who had gotten partial results. He also observed the reactions of those casting the Dark spell with success.

He could see a gleam in the eyes of those who had successfully cast the spell on their first try, and he wondered how many of them were casting a Dark spell for the first time. For those with the natural disposition for Dark magic, casting it for the first time could fill them with a powerful rush. A feeling of awe, excitement, or rightness. It varied from person to person.

In contrast, Harry noticed that quite a few of the people who had easily succeeded with the Light spell, seemed visibly ill or at least uncomfortable with casting the Dark spell. It went against their affinity, and would never quite feel

right

for them.

Neville and Su Li both seemed to be struggling with the Dark Spell. Both had managed to make the other look a bit forlorn, but neither had achieved the full power of the spell.

Harry's attention was drawn back to Ron and Hermione when he noticed that the pair were about to try the Dark spell. Hermione leveled her wand at Ron, said the incantation, perfectly performed the wand movement, and sent the spell flying. Ron's face instantly crumpled into a mask of utter despair. His knees buckled and he sunk to the floor, moaning about how hopeless everything was, and beginning to number off all of the stresses currently hanging over his head. He seemed especially convinced that he was going to perform horribly in the next Quidditch match.

Hermione looked stunned. But more than that, Harry noticed that her eyes were alight with wonder. And yet her eyes looked a bit heavy lidded and Harry could see her hand tremble slightly as it clasped her wand. Casting the spell had clearly affected her deeply.

Her shock over the way casting the spell had felt, seemed to leave her suddenly as her attention was drawn to Ron, still whimpering on the floor. She gasped in shock at his obviously distraught state and quickly moved her wand to

finite

the spell.

Harry watched all this with considerable intrigue and a highly peaked interest.

Hermione was clearly inclined towards a Dark affinity.

Interesting...

– –

After returning to the abbey, going back 24-hours with the time turner and then spending a comfortable, well-rested night with Tom, Harry and the Dark Lord found themselves in the large conference room on the first floor with a group of Death Eaters who all worked in the Ministry.

"First off, congratulations are in order to you Runcorn," Voldemort said with a wicked smirk. "I am quite pleased with your success in procuring the head of the Hit-Wizard division."

"Thank you, my Lord," Runcorn said, bowing his head low. As he rose back to his full height, sitting in his chair, he looked quite pleased with himself.

"Do you have anything to report on the process?"

"Everything went smoothly, my Lord. No one suspects foul play at all. His death is already being shoved under the rug."

Voldemort nodded his head and gave Runcorn an approving smirk. "Lucius, what do you have to report?" Voldemort said as he leaned back slightly in his regal high-backed chair that sat directly besides Harry's, at the head of the long conference table. Tom's chair was slightly larger, and a bit more ornate, but only marginally so, and Harry's chair was still clearly nicer than the ones the Death Eaters themselves sat in. It gave a subtle, yet clear message to any sitting in the room.

"My Lord," Lucius began with a slight bow of his head, "I have learned that Fudge has managed to successfully pass a new decree regarding Hogwarts that can likely work in our favor."

"Go on," Voldemort said with a slight wave of his hand.

"Fudge has initiated an inquisition in to the quality of education our children are receiving at Hogwarts. He has assigned one of his advisors the position of 'High Inquisitor of Education', and she will be visiting the school and observing all of the current staff and classes for deficiencies. It seems that the intention is that by the end of it, she will be sacking a fair number of the current faculty members."

The corner of Harry's mouth twitched into a smirk. "If we manage to take proper advantage of this situation, we might even manage to get more of our people inside the school as staff members." Harry remarked and Voldemort nodded.

"We shall investigate which of our numbers would be most qualified to fill any of the posts and which will not draw Dumbledore's attention upon themselves." Voldemort said.

"There's no doubt in my mind that Binns will get the boot," Harry said, looking thoughtful. "Having one our people in the position of History teacher could be extremely beneficial. I've also heard that the witch they've got teaching muggle studies is a bit daft. Loves muggles to death, but knows next to nothing about them. Some pureblood muggle lover who is blinded by her fascination by them. If we can get this 'High Inquisitor' to give her the boot, putting one of our people in that spot could be a real boon."

Voldemort nodded and looked pleased. "Lucius, who is it that Fudge has assigned the task? What do you know of her?"

"Her name is Dolores Umbridge and she is one of the under secretaries to Cornelius. The woman is a rather vile toad of a witch, but her views are not terribly far off from our own and she is easily manipulated. She is incredibly faithful to the Minister, and seems to be of the mind that Albus Dumbledore is a menace to society and should be removed from the school. I imagine she will be useful."

"Good. Keep me informed of any advances in the situation."

"Yes, My Lord," Lucius said with another low bow of his head.

"Macnair, report." Voldemort said addressing Walden Macnair, who was sitting directly to Lucius' left.

"Yes, sir," Macnair said, with a quick curt bow of his head. "Cuthbert Mockridge of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures is working on a new bill that he and several others are planning to support and promote during the next legislative session of the Wizengamot. The bill would further cripple the rights of Dark creatures and make it a criminal act for a witch or wizard to knowingly bare children with a Dark creature, while promoting any relations with a number of listed Light races."

Voldemort's eyes flashed red and his teeth clenched as an angry hissing sound escaped from between his teeth. Several of the Death Eaters in the room visibly paled or flinched in response. "Kill him and destroy all his work on the bill." Voldemort ordered immediately. "If you cannot achieve it without being caught, work with any of the other Death Eaters necessary to complete the task. Try to do it without drawing unwanted attention, however, the first priority is to stop the man and his work before the next session. It's only two weeks away, so you haven't much time."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Do not disappoint me, Macnair," Voldemort said in a quiet, high-pitched, warning tone.

Macnair paled and nodded his head quickly.

"Jeno, report!" Voldemort said sharply to the next Death Eater in line.

"My Lord, I have good news," Jeno Vass said with a hesitant, but excited voice. Jeno Vass was one of the younger Death Eaters. He was an Auror and worked for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. However, Jeno was in his first year and his family didn't have any political sway or powerful contacts, so Jeno had to work through his first year in the Aurors as a guard at Azkaban. Even though Jeno was normally in the Intermediate training group, he had been included in the planning for the Azkaban attack along with the Advanced group.

"Yes, Jeno?"

"Yesterday Samuel McKinnon, Amelia Bone's second-in-command of the Auror Division, came to the island for his monthly inspection of Azkaban. He and I were completely alone in one of the meeting rooms and he had his back to me. He set his wand down on the table so he could clean his glasses, and was completely off his guard. I took advantage of the opportunity and successfully put him under the Imperius."

Voldemort's hairless brows rose higher into his forehead. "While I am pleased by the outcome, I must express my concerns. How many times have you successfully cast an imperious before? Have you ever held one in place for an extended period of time? Your position could be jeopardized if he were to fight his way out from under your control."

"I've succeeded in my personal training numerous times. I'll admit I've never held one for an extended period, but there haven't been any complications so far. He returns to the prison once a month, and I estimate he will likely return to the island immediately following the attack on Azkaban, so I'll have numerous opportunities to renew the curse every time he comes."

Voldemort nodded his head. "Very well. Keep me up to date. I'll notify you whenever I have any specific tasks that we wish for Mr. McKinnon to perform for us."

The meeting went on for a bit longer as each of the Death Eaters gave their reports, and Voldemort gave each of them any new needed tasks.

– –

The following day at Hogwarts was Saturday, the 13th of October. There was a Gryffindor team Quidditch practice Saturday afternoon and a DAA meeting on Sunday afternoon. Harry was caught up, and in fact,

ahead, on all of his reading and assignments, so aside from those two tasks, his weekend at school seemed to be totally free.

Saturday afternoon, as he was leaving the pitch with Ron and Ginny, trailing behind him, a third-year came jogging up to him and handed him a small, tightly bound, scroll of parchment. Harry pocketed it until they got to the common room where the group was greeted by Hermione and Neville. Hermione seemed to be attempting to help tutor Neville in Potions. As Harry sat down on one of the overstuffed couches, he could hear Hermione attempting to use references from Herbology – a subject that Neville was very comfortable with – to help him understand Potions.

Harry sighed and shook his head, thankful that he was spending his potion lessons with Draco and

not

Neville, and quickly began to untie the small bit of twine that was holding the roll of parchment together.

Harry's eyes widened as he instantly recognized the long, slanted writing as Dumbledore's. It was another summons to the headmaster's office for a private 'lesson'. Harry frowned down at it, wondering what the hell Dumbledore could be planning. The last time Harry had been called to Dumbledore's office, the old coot had shown him a pensive memory of the fake prophecy. He had said that he wanted to continue to meet with Harry, although Harry had admittedly, sort of forgotten all about it. So what would this meeting entail?

Harry checked his watch. Dinner was in about a half hour, and the letter asked Harry to come to Dumbledore's office at 7:30pm.

Harry sighed with a slight air of impatience before turning to head up the stairs. Ron called after him, asking him where he was going, and Harry just said he was going to change and grab a book or something to read. Ron had rolled his eyes, muttering quietly under his breath as he turned towards one of the tables that currently had Dean, Seamus, and Lavender Brown perched around it, starting up a game of gobstones.

–

"Harry, you seem awfully distracted, is something the matter?" Hermione asked as the group sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall and began to fill their plates with food. Harry frowned and sighed before fishing the rolled up parchment out of his robes pocket and handing it over.

After his last 'private lesson' with Dumbledore, Hermione and Ron had both grilled him as to what had happened. Harry had used the excuse that Dumbledore had asked him not to reveal what he'd been shown, simply because he had yet to decide how he was going to handle his two Gryffindor 'friends' and the whole prophecy mess. He certainly wasn't going to tell either of them Dumbledore's false prophecy, but he had no reasonable excuse yet to explain why he would know it was false, or how he could possibly know what the real one was. Plus, neither of his friends had gotten proficient enough in Occlumency to guard such delicate information, so there was simply no legitimate option to share it anyway.

Hermione had been studying Occlumency, of course, from a book that Harry had lent her, but Ron – as expected – simply lacked the patience or dedication to learn the challenging skill. He had chosen, instead, to simply avoid eye contact with Dumbledore or Snape. Harry sometimes felt that Ron was being a bit

obvious

about the whole thing, but Ron was basically the fundamental stereotype of what a Gryffindor should be, and you really couldn't expect a true Gryffindor to understand subtly or cunning.

After reading over the scroll, Hermione looked back up at Harry with wide eyes. "Do you know what he's going to be teaching you?" Hermione asked in a hushed voice that really only served in drawing Ron's previously oblivious interest.

Harry shook his head and shrugged. "No clue. He didn't really explain any of his plans, even during the last one."

"And you really can't tell us what he showed you last time?" Hermione asked with a slightly pleading tone to her voice and a small frown.

Harry let out another heavy sigh. "I'm sorry Hermione. I need to know more about what's really going on before I feel comfortable talking about it. Maybe things will be clearer after tonight."

Hermione looked disappointed, but didn't argue any further and Harry was able to get back to his meal.

At 7:25pm, Harry left the Great Hall and quickly began to climb the stairs, making his way towards the headmaster's office on the seventh floor.

He reached the gargoyle, spoke the password that had been 'hinted' at in his summons, and quickly made his way up the spiral staircase and into Dumbledore's office. The elderly Headmaster was sitting in his chair with that infuriating genial smile on his face, complete with twinkling eyes. His pensive was, once again, placed upon his desk, clearly ready to be used by the pair of them for this 'lesson'.

"Ah, welcome Harry. Thank you for coming to see me today on such short notice," Dumbledore said, folding his hands on his desk.

"It's quite alright, sir," Harry said, in a voice that he forced to sound timid and unsure. "Is um... is this more about the prophecy that you told me last time? About how I'm supposed to defeat Voldemort?"

"It is my hope that what I am going to show you today is one thing among others that will eventually help you in accomplishing your goal of defeating Voldemort," Dumbledore said in a rather annoying evasive way.

Harry took on the air of a worried youth and nodded his head with a look of grim determination.

"Now, before I start, Harry, I want you to know that we will be leaving the firm ground of fact and venturing in the rocky territory of conjecture and guess work. I will be showing you memories from several different sources during our visits. The memory that I wish to show you tonight belonged to a man by the name of Bob Ogden. He was gracious enough to voluntarily provide me with this memory some years ago. I wish for us to both witness it first and after that, we can discuss what we've seen."

"Okay, sir." Harry said with a nod.

"Good, good." Dumbledore said with a smile as he stood and uncorked a small vile on his desk and poured it into the pensieve. A few moments later and both Dumbledore and Harry were entering the pensieve. Harry was overwhelmed by the sudden feeling of falling, and then the instant sensation of standing perfectly still.

He blinked owlishly to find that he was standing on a strangely familiar country lane bordered by high, tangled hedgerows, beneath a bright summer sky. Some ten feet in front of he and Dumbledore stood a short, plump man wearing enormously thick glasses that reduced his eyes to mole-like specks. He was reading a wooden signpost that was sticking out of the brambles on the left-hand side of the road.

He was also wearing the strange assortment of clothes so often chosen by inexperienced wizards trying to look like Muggles: in this case, a frock coat and spats over a striped one-piece bathing costume. Before Harry had time to do more than register his bizarre appearance, however, the wizard had set off at a brisk walk down the lane.

As he passed the wooden sign, Harry looked up at its two arms. The one pointing back the way they had come read: Great Hangleton, 5 miles. The arm pointing after the wizard said Little Hangleton, 1 mile. Harry suddenly realized precisely why this little dirt path looked so familiar, and Harry instantly found himself far more curious about the memory than he was some minutes earlier.

Harry and Dumbledore continued to follow the short fat man with nothing to see but the hedgerows, the wide blue sky overhead and the swishing, frock-coated figure ahead. Then the lane curved to the left and fell away, sloping steeply down a hillside, so that they had a sudden, unexpected view of a whole valley laid out in front of them. Harry could see Little Hangleton below, nestled between two steep hills, its church and graveyard clearly visible. Across the valley, set on the opposite hillside, was the oh-so-familiar manor house he had called home so very recently, surrounded by a wide expanse of velvety green lawn. It was strange seeing Riddle Manor looking so pristine and well kept. Even though Tom had fixed the place up quite a lot, most of his renovations were exclusive to the interior so Harry was more accustomed to the outside of the manor looking extremely decrepit.

Little Hangleton itself also looked strange to his eyes and Harry wondered suddenly just how long ago this memory took place.

He wondered if Little Hangleton was their destination, or if perhaps the manor was, but a sinking feeling inside him told him that their destination was most likely an entirely different, and far more humble home than the large, impressive, Riddle manor. He soon discovered that his suspicions were correct as the lane curved to the right and when they rounded the corner, it was to see the very edge of the wizard's frock coat vanishing through a gap in the hedge.

Harry and Dumbledore followed him onto a narrow dirt track bordered by higher and wilder hedgerows than those they had left behind. The path was crooked, rocky, and potholed, sloping downhill like the last one, and it seemed to be heading for a patch of dark trees a little below them. Sure enough, the track soon opened up at the copse, and Harry came to a halt behind the wizard, who had stopped and drawn his wand.

Despite the cloudless sky, the old trees ahead cast deep, dark, cool shadows, and it was a few seconds before Harry's eyes discerned the building half-hidden amongst the tangle of trunks. It was the Gaunt house. Not that Harry had ever actually seen it in person, but Tom had described it to him, and he knew this was the correct location for it. The fact that there was a dead snake nailed to the door was also a dead giveaway. Suddenly, one of the windows was thrown open with a clatter, and a thin trickle of steam or smoke issued from it, as though somebody was cooking.

The wizard moved forward quietly and, it seemed to Harry, rather cautiously. Then there was a rustle and a crack, and a man in rags dropped from the nearest tree, landing on his feet right in front of the wizard, who leapt backward so fast he stood on the tails of his frock coat and stumbled.

§You're not welcome.§

The man standing before them had thick hair so matted with dirt it could have been any color. Several of his teeth were missing. His eyes were small and dark and stared in opposite directions. He might have looked comical, but he did not; the effect was frightening, and Harry could not blame the wizard for backing away several more paces before he spoke.

"Er — good morning. I'm from the Ministry of Magic —"

§You're not welcome.§

"Er — I'm sorry — I don't understand you," said the wizard nervously.

For a moment, Harry thought the wizard was being extremely dim; the stranger, who Harry was fairly certain was Morfin Gaunt, was making himself very clear in Harry's opinion, particularly as he was brandishing a wand in one hand and a short and rather bloody knife in the other. But then realization hit him, the slight hissing at the end of the phrase. Of course, the Ministry wizard didn't understand him; Morfin was speaking parseltongue! That explained why he hadn't realized it before, to him it sounded like regular English and he and Tom slipped in and out of it so often and so easily that he often didn't even notice it when it happened. However, if he really made an effort he could distinguish the slight hissing. Morfin was now advancing on the Ministry wizard, knife in one hand, wand in the other.

"Now, look —" the wizard began, but too late: There was a bang, and the wizard was on the ground, clutching his nose, while a nasty yellowish goo squirted from between his fingers.

"Morfin!" said a loud voice.

An elderly man had come hurrying out of the cottage, banging the door behind him so that the dead snake swung pathetically. This man was shorter than Morfin, and oddly proportioned; his shoulders were very broad and his arms overlong, which, with his bright brown eyes, short scrubby hair, and wrinkled face, gave him the look of a powerful, aged monkey. Harry knew instantly that this man had to be Marvolo Gaunt – Tom's grandfather. Marvolo came to a halt beside Morfin, who was now cackling with laughter at the sight of the wizard on the ground.

"Ministry, is it?" said Marvolo, looking down at the wizard.

"Correct! I'm Mr. Ogden," said the wizard angrily, dabbing his face. "And you, I take it, are Mr. Gaunt?"

"S'right," said Marvolo. "Got you in the face, did he?"

"Yes, he did!" snapped Ogden.

"Should've made your presence known, shouldn't you?" said Marvolo aggressively. "This is private property. Can't just walk in here and not expect my son to defend himself."

"Defend himself against what, man?" said Ogden, clambering back to his feet.

"Busybodies. Intruders! Muggles and filth," retorted Gaunt.

Ogden

pointed his wand at his own nose, which was still issuing large amounts of what looked like yellow pus, and the flow stopped at once.

The memory continued from there. Ogden and the two Gaunts argued with Marvolo and Morfin engaging in some conversation in parseltongue, much to Ogden's obvious displeasure. Harry had to fight the smirk when he realized that he was able to understand significant portions of this memory that even Dumbledore himself couldn't.

Finally, Ogden insisted upon going into the house. It seemed that the Ministry had sent them some sort of warning and notice that Morfin needed to appear at the Ministry for a trail since he had been detected assaulting a muggle with magic.

The house seemed to contain three tiny rooms. Two doors led off the main room, which served as kitchen and living room combined. Morfin sat down in a chair and began to hiss to a live adder in parseltongue. Harry heard a noise coming from the portion of the open room that was made up of the kitchen space and was startled to find a rather sad and ragged looking girl there. This had to be Merope. This was Tom's mother.

Marvolo began to speak with Mr. Ogden again about the charges the Ministry was trying to bring against Morfin. At some point Merope managed to drop and break a large kettle, at which point Marvolo bellowed angrily at the girl and accused her of being a squib when she failed to mend the kettle with magic. Ogden saved her the trouble and used his wand to mend it for her.

The arguing between Marvolo and Ogden continued as Ogden tried to explain that Morfin had been summoned for a hearing.

"It is a summons to the Ministry for a hearing —"

"Summons! Summons? Who do you think you are, summoning my son anywhere?"

"I'm Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad," said Ogden.

"And you think we're scum, do you?" screamed Marvolo, advancing on Ogden now, with a dirty yellow-nailed finger pointing at his chest. "Scum who'll come running when the Ministry tells 'em to? Do you know who you're talking to, you filthy little Mudblood, do you?"

"I was under the impression that I was speaking to Mr. Gaunt," said Ogden, looking wary, but standing his ground.

"That's right!" roared Marvolo. For a moment, Harry thought Marvolo was making an obscene hand gesture at the Ministry wizard, but then realized that he was showing Ogden the black-stoned ring he was wearing on his middle finger, waving it before Harry's own eyes and causing him to gasp.

Dumbledore seemed to notice Harry's recognition, but did not remark on it.

"See this? See this? Know what it is? Know where it came from? Centuries it's been in our family, that's how far back we go, and pureblood all the way! Know how much I've been offered for this, with the Peverell coat of arms engraved on the stone?"

"I've really no idea," said Ogden, blinking as the ring sailed within an inch of his nose, "and it's quite beside the point, Mr. Gaunt. Your son has committed —"

With a howl of rage, Gaunt ran toward his daughter. For a split second, Harry thought he was going to throttle her as his hand flew to her throat; next moment, he was dragging her toward Ogden by a chain around her neck.

"See this?" he bellowed at Ogden, shaking a heavy locket at him, while Merope spluttered and gasped for breath.

Harry had to stifle the gasp that tried to escape form between his lips when he got a good look at the locket. It was the very same locket he had recovered from Grimmauld place and given to Tom a month and a half prior. Tom had told him the story of how he had taken it from an old witch who had bought it from Borgin, who had in turn, bought it for 'a pittance' from some ragged, desperate-looking witch many years earlier. But this was truly proof that the locket had once belonged to Tom's mother.

"I see it, I see it!" said Ogden hastily.

"Slytherins!" yelled Gaunt. "Salazar Slytherin's! We're his last living descendants, what do you say to that, eh?"

"Mr. Gaunt, your daughter!" said Ogden in alarm, but Gaunt had already released Merope; she staggered away from him, back to her corner, massaging her neck and gulping for air.

"So!" said Gaunt triumphantly, as though he had just proved a complicated point beyond all possible dispute. "Don't you go talking to us as if we're dirt on your shoes! Generations of purebloods, wizards all — more than you can say, I don't doubt!"

And he spat on the floor at Ogden's feet. Morfin cackled again. Merope, huddled beside the window, her head bowed and her face hidden by her lank hair, said nothing.

More arguing commenced and was only broken when the sounds of horses, and voices trailed in through the kitchen window. It quickly became clear to Harry that the voices from outside belonged to a pair of muggles – the very same muggle that Morfin was accused of having attacked. A muggle named

Tom.

Merope looked torn between wanting to run out and watch the owner of the voice, and wanting to cower somewhere in terror. Morfin began to hiss to Marvolo that Merope fancied the muggle and that was why he had attacked the man – to teach his stupid filthy sister a lesson.

Marvolo exploded at poor Merope and more insanity quickly ensued. As Marvolo attempted to attack Merope, Ogden intervened and shot his own spell at the elder Gaunt. Morfin quickly joined the fray, brandishing his knife and throwing hexes indiscriminately from his wand.

Ogden

quickly ran for his life and Harry and Dumbledore followed the wizard to not lose the image of Ogden's memory while Merope's screams echoed in his ears.

The wizard hurtled up the path and erupted onto the main lane, his arms over his head, where he collided with the glossy chestnut horse ridden by a very handsome, dark-haired young man. Both he and the pretty girl riding beside him on a gray horse roared with laughter at the sight of Ogden, who bounced off the horse's flank and set off again, his frock coat flying, covered from head to foot in dust, running pell-mell up the lane.

Harry found himself stunned as he looked upon the handsome muggle man who was still laughing at Ogden. Those happy, mirth-filled eyes were exactly like Tom's... only they were a dark brown instead of the ruby red Harry was used to.

His features were just like Tom's as well. So very similar. It was definitely obvious that Tom took after his father almost solely – which was a good thing because poor Merope was not exactly a very pretty woman.

The memory began to fade out and Harry felt himself being pulled back to reality. A moment later he found himself sitting in the chair opposite Dumbledore's desk again, feeling mildly disoriented.

Harry looked up owlishly to find Dumbledore smiling down at him expectantly. Harry blinked at his headmaster as he quickly began to wrack his brain for some idea of how he would have reacted to this memory had he not known what he knew.

"Do you know what happened to the girl, sir?" Harry asked, realizing that Dumbledore would most likely expect him to show a certain level of concern for the girl.

"Oh, she survived," said Dumbledore, reseating himself behind his desk. "Ogden apparated back to the Ministry and returned with reinforcements fifteen minutes later. Morfin and his father attempted to fight, but both were overpowered, removed from the cottage and subsequently convicted by the Wizengamot. Morfin, who already had a record of muggle attacks, was sentenced to three years in Azkaban. Marvolo, who had injured several Ministry employees in addition to Ogden, received six months."

"Marvolo... as in Tom Marvolo Riddle?" Harry asked, seeing this as a good opportunity to move things along to what was more obviously the point of all this.

"That's right, I'm glad to see you're keeping up. The old man was Voldemort's grandfather," said Dumbledore. "Marvolo, his son Morfin and his daughter Merope were the last of the Gaunts, a very ancient wizarding family noted for a vein of instability and violence that flourished through the generations due to their habit of marrying their own cousins. Lack of sense coupled with a great liking for grandeur meant that the family gold was squandered several generations before Marvolo was born. He, as you saw, was left in squalor and poverty, with a very nasty temper, a fantastic amount of arrogance and pride, and a couple of family heirlooms that he treasured just as much as his son and rather more than his daughter."

"So Merope was … was Voldemort's mother?" Harry asked, continuing to move things along.

"Yes, she was," answered Dumbledore. "And it happens that we also had a glimpse of Voldemort's father. I wonder whether you noticed?"

Harry nodded. "The man on the horse? The muggle Morfin attacked?"

"Very good indeed," beamed Dumbledore. "Yes, that was Tom Riddle Sr, the handsome muggle who used to ride past the Gaunt cottage and for whom Merope Gaunt cherished, secret passion."

"And they ended up married?" asked Harry, feeling honestly curious as to how this had actually come to pass. He wondered suddenly how much of this Tom actually knew.

"I think you are forgetting that Merope was a witch," said Dumbledore. "I do not believe that her magical powers appeared to their best advantage when she was being terrorized by her father. Once Marvolo and Morfin were safely in Azkaban, once she was alone and free for the first time in her life , then, I am sure, she was able to give full reign to her abilities and plot her escape from the desperate life she had led for eighteen years. Can you not think of any measure Merope could have taken to make Tom Riddle forget his muggle companion, and fall in love with her instead?"

"Amortentia," said Harry. "Or the Imperius curse?"

"Very good. Personally, I am inclined to think that she used a love potion. I am sure it would have seemed more romantic to her and I do not think it would have been too difficult, some hot day, when Riddle was riding alone, to persuade him to take a drink of water. In any case, within the few months after the scene we have just witnessed, the village of Little Hangleton enjoyed a tremendous scandal. You can imagine the gossip it caused when the squire's son ran off with the tramp's daughter Merope.

"But the villagers' shock was nothing to Marvolo's. He returned from Azkaban, expecting to find his daughter dutifully awaiting his return with a hot meal on his table. Instead, he found a clear inch of dust and her note of farewell, explaining what she had done.

"From all that I have been able to discover, he never mentioned her name or existence from that time forth. The shock of her desertion may have contributed to his early death or perhaps he had simply never learned to feed himself. Azkaban had greatly weakened Marvolo and he did not live to see Morfin return to the cottage."

"And Merope? She died, didn't she? Wasn't Voldemort brought up in an orphanage?"

"Yes, indeed," said Dumbledore. "We must do a certain amount of guessing here, although I do not think it is difficult to deduce what happened. You see, within a few month of their runaway marriage, Tom Riddle Sr. returned to the manor house in Little Hangleton without his wife. The rumor flew around the neighborhood that he was talking of being 'hoodwinked' and 'taken in'. What he meant, I am sure, is that he had been under an enchantment that had now lifted, though I daresay he did not dare use those precise words for fear of being thought insane. When they heard what he was saying however the villagers guessed that Merope had lied to Tom Riddle, pretending that she was going to have his baby, and that he married her for this reason."

"But she did have his baby."

"Yes, but not until a year after they were married. Tom Riddle left her while she was still pregnant."

"Why? Did the potion stop working?"

"Again, this is guesswork," said Dumbledore, "but I believe that Merope, who was deeply in love with her husband, could not bear to continue enslaving him by magical means- I believe that she made the choice to stop giving him the potion. Perhaps, besotted as she was, she had convinced herself that by now, he would have fallen in love with her in return. Perhaps she thought he would stay for the baby's sake. If so, she was wrong on both counts. He left her, never saw her again, and never troubled to discover what became of his son."

"So he abandoned her, even though she was pregnant?" Harry remarked angrily.

Dumbledore sighed and nodded his head. "That he did. However, one can not entirely blame him for having left after being put under the effects of a powerful potion and not understanding what had happened."

"Even if he left

her, he shouldn't have just abandoned his own child," Harry remarked bitterly, feeling a rather powerful anger welling deep inside him on Tom's behalf.

"Ah yes... there is no telling what our history could have looked like if Tom Riddle Sr. had stayed behind long enough to ensure the safety and well-being of his son." Dumbledore said with a heavy sigh. "But there are some other portions of the memory that I wish to draw your attention to, Harry. There were two artifacts in this memory that have a significance that will become clear in later visits. Do you remember the locket that Merope was wearing?"

Harry frowned and nodded slowly as if he were having trouble remembering. "Yes... Marvolo Gaunt said that it belonged to Slytherin, right?"

"That is correct, Harry. Now there was one other artifact –"

"The ring!" Harry exclaimed and his eyes instantly fell onto the ring that Dumbledore himself was still wearing on his mangled hand. "Sir! It's the same one, isn't it? The one you have on your hand?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened as if he were surprised that Harry had actually made this connection, before he quickly schooled his expression and smiled kindly. "You are right again, Harry. Yes, this ring is the very same ring that we saw in that memory."

"Will you tell me the significance of that ring now, then?" Harry asked, sounding hopeful.

"Ah... not just yet, Harry. We still have other things to cover first before we can get onto the true significance of this ring."

Harry frowned slightly, but inside he was fuming. "Alright, sir." Harry let out a small sigh and tried to control and subdue his emotions and school his features completely. "Sir, I'm curious... this memory is interesting and all, but what good could it possibly do in helping me defeat Voldemort?"

"Ah, that is a very valid question to ask. The answer to which, will become more apparent in later meetings. Now, it is getting quite late and I know if I don't let you go soon, you will be late for your prefect duties."

Harry blinked. "Wait, that's it?"

"For tonight – yes. I will send you another note when I am ready to show you the next set of memories."

Harry kept his expression blank but the anger was only growing stronger deep inside him. This man was truly infuriating. What an obscenely stupid waste of time. It was obvious where Dumbledore was trying to go with this. It was all about what objects Tom had chosen for his horcruxes, but Harry wondered why Dumbledore felt possessed to show him these little memories instead of simply tell him what he thought the objects were. He couldn't help but wonder if Dumbledore actually knew what

allof the other horcruxes were.

"Okay... thank you, sir." Harry mumbled as he stood up, bid Dumbledore goodnight and quickly left the office

– –

That night after returning to the abbey and going back 24-hours, Harry lay in bed telling Tom about all that he had seen. Tom's face had taken on a stunned mask as Harry described the memory of Tom's mother and father. Tom had been rather quite after that and Harry could feel a rumble of confused emotions simmering across the link.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked tentatively as Tom climbed into bed.

Tom frowned, knitting his eyebrows together for a moment. "Yes..." he said slowly. "It's... odd. I hadn't really thought much of any of them in a very long time. If anything, what you told me only adds additional validation to my actions during my youth."

"You mean when you went to Little Hangleton and killed them all?"

"Well, technically I did not kill Morfin – although I almost wish I had... I merely framed him for the murder of the muggles. He died in Azkaban. And Marvolo had already died years before I ever got there."

Harry nodded his head. He was lying on his side with his arm up, folded at the elbow and propping his head up on the heel of his palm. Tom turned onto his side and met Harry's intense green eyes. They merely stared at each other for a long moment before Tom sighed.

"Honestly, Harry, I'm not really sure what I'm feeling at the moment. It's rather... confusing." He chuckled humorlessly and sighed again. "My emotions never used to be this complicated. I blame it entirely on you."

Harry smiled weakly. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Tom chuckled and smiled reassuringly at Harry. "A good thing."

"Good."

Disclaimer:

I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary:

Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta

Pass

tannne

AN:

I really like this chapter. Most specifically, I really like the end of it. The next chapter will include the break-in at Azkaban.

– –

Chapter 21

The next day held some significance for the two of them because they spent most of the day down in the lab adding the finishing touches to the fake Peverell ring. Tom had spent weeks completing the complex layering of spells to create the illusion that it was a horcrux.

He had used pensieve memories in order to recreate a duplicate of the ring itself, and to simulate the unique magical signature he remembered the ring having before he had added his own soul to it. It had been an arduous process, but it was finally done.

They conjured a very small wooden box and placed the ring inside it. Harry then slipped it into his pocket with the intention ofalways

keeping it with him so that he would be ready the instant any opportunity presented itself for him to switch it with the real ring.

– –

Monday morning at Hogwarts arrived and Harry quickly tucked into his breakfast. When the post owls began to arrive, an unfamiliar barn owl swooped down in front of Hermione clutching a thick, rolled-up magazine-looking thing. Hermione squealed slightly with excitement and quickly removed the owl's burden before giving it a piece of bacon.

The 'magazine' turned out to be that month's copy of the 'Journal of Magical Genealogical Study'. It was one of the wizarding journals that, Professor Phoebus Penrose had published her paper,

'The Annihilation of the Muggleborn Myth',in. Hermione, apparently, had owl-ordered for a copy of the journal and had been waiting eagerly for it ever since.

Hermione quickly forgot all about her breakfast as she instantly began to flip through the journal in search of the article. Harry was amused, if not a bit stunned, that Hermione continued to read it, even through History of Magic. History was a throwaway class, and everyone knew that – except for Hermione. She

always

paid attention in that class. So to see her actually blowing it off was a sign of just how interested she was in what she was reading.

–

The rest of the day went normally up until dinner. As Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and two of Ginny's dorm mates, were entering the Great Hall, they were met with the sight of an unfamiliar presence at the Head Table with the rest of the Professors. There seemed to be an obvious air of displeasure among the Professors, as quite a few were holding very tight expressions, or openly frowning at the intruder

"Wonder who that is," Ginny said, glancing up at the Head Table as the group sat down at the Gryffindor table.

Harry glanced up, taking on an air of curious confusion. The intruder was a short, squat woman wearing far too much pink. It was easy to guess who she was. When Lucius had described her as a 'toad', Harry hadn't realized that the man had meant it literally, for she truly did resemble a bullfrog.

Harry shrugged. "Dunno," he said as he focused on the plates of food in front of him, and sorting out just what he wanted to eat.

About a half hour into the meal, when the Great Hall was at its fullest, a tinkling sound of silverware tapping against a glass goblet could be heard echoing loudly through the great hall. The sound was magically amplified, so there was no chance of anyone missing it. The din of noise quieted almost instantly and all eyes went up to the Head Table where Dumbledore was standing up.

"I have an announcement to make," Dumbledore called out once everyone had quieted down. "Hogwarts will be playing host to a guest for the coming weeks. Dolores Umbridge, the Senior Undersecretary of Minister Cornelius Fudge will be joining us in her new capacity as Educational High Inquisitor. She will be sitting in on many of your classes. Please do make her feel welcome during her stay with us."

Dumbledore began to sit back down and the entire hall just stared at him with confusion and a bit of shock. Clearly, no one quite knew what to make of this recent development.

Just as Dumbledore was about to reclaim his seat, a high-pitched voice sounded from the seat beside him, at the pink toad woman stood up.

"Hem-Hem... Thank you, headmaster, for those kind words of welcome. The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of a vital importance. Although each headmaster has brought something new to this...

historic

school, progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged. Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected and prune practices that ought to be... prohibited.

"The Ministry of Magic has, in recent months, become increasingly aware of the falling standards of education here at Hogwarts. I have been appointed by the Minister himself to make sure that the unsatisfactory teachers are removed from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and replaced with Professors capable of providing you with the high standard of education expected from such a highly acclaimed magical institution. You all deserve the best education that you can get, and I am here to guarantee that happens."

With that, she gave a sadistically sugary smile and sat back down.

The hall was dead silent for a minute before a rush of hushed conversation surged forth. The professors were even more openly frowning now and a few looked very nervous, while the students didn't seem quite to know what to make of everything.

"What do you think this means?" Ginny asked the Gryffindors all seated near her.

Hermione was frowning the most. "It means that the Ministry is trying to interfere at Hogwarts."

"Is that really so bad, though?" Harry asked, quietly.

Hermione looked at him with an air of surprise. "Of course it is! Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, it was because of the Minister that we got Professor Rowle in, wasn't it? And he's doing a fantastic job."

"What?" Ron exclaimed, looking surprised.

"Didn't you know?" Harry asked. "Dumbledore couldn't find anyone willing to fill the post of Defense teacher. Fudge stepped in and selected Professor Rowle to take the job."

Even Hermione looked surprised. "I didn't know that."

"I mean... maybe it seems a bit harsh, but you've got to admit that there are a few staff members who really do need to be sacked." Harry said.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.

"What? Oh, come on, Hermione... Professor Binns? You seriously think that

he

is the best we could possibly have for a History Professor? He's

dead, for Merlin's sake. And, thanks to him, hardly anyone has gone all the way through to NEWT level History in literally

decades.

History is an important subject, and yet no one gives a damn about it because Binns is such a rotten teacher."

Hermione looked considerably torn between reprimanding Harry for disrespecting a teacher, and grudgingly agreeing with him.

"It's because the magical world is so eager to forget the past that all these ignorant beliefs about muggleborns exist today. If people were better capable of remembering our own history, people would know exactly where magic originated and how witches and wizards came to exist. But they don't remember, so all these lies spout up and it fuels the bigots who are looking for a group to hate and blame for their problems."

Hermione frowned and looked thoughtful for a minute. "Well... if we were able to get a really good History teacher, that

wouldprobably be really nice..."

"Yeah, and what about Trelawney?" Ron added in. "I certainly wouldn't mind if

she

got the boot."

Hermione didn't even bother acting scandalized at that and Harry smirked.

"So you see... this

could

be a good thing." Harry said.

Hermione sighed and shrugged. "I suppose..."

– –

The following week seemed to progressing horrifyingly slow and Harry was definitely glad for his alternating days at the abbey to save his sanity from the utter frustration of his days at Hogwarts.

Dolores Umbridge was truly nasty woman. Her sugary, high-pitched voice, combined with her barely disguised disdain for anything and everything she didn't entirely approve of, was quickly grating on Harry's nerves. What was

really

driving him mad, however, was the way the rest of his classmates were reacting to the stupid cow.

The Slytherins were mostly treating her with indifference, or were sucking up to her with glorious success. The Gryffindors were not that smart, however. It seemed that they lived to get on the woman's bad side. It had become apparent very quickly on Tuesday that High Inquisitor Umbridge had been granted the power to give and take house points, as well as assign detentions with Filch, even though she wasn't an actual teacher.

The Gryffindors, almost as a whole, as well as a number of other students – mostly Hufflepuffs – saw her presence in the school as an unwarranted attack from the Ministry, into matters that weren't their business in the first place. And it was an attack that they needed to defend themselves against.

And so, despite the potential good that could come out of her presence, the majority of the students that Harry was surrounded by on a daily basis, could do nothing but bitch and moan about the woman –

constantly. The most annoying part was that everyone seemed to expect

Harry

to do something. They were always looking at him, expectantly, whenever she did something they found exceptionally outrageous. Like they were just waiting for him to blow up at the woman, defending the honor of Hogwarts and Dumbledore. But maintaining his cover wasn't reason enough for him to intentionally get on the woman's bad side. He was no idiot. So he stayed quiet.

Harry was getting entirely sick of his classmates expectations and their behavior. He wished that they'd all find a new subject to go on and on about, because their constant whining about Umbridge was wearing on his last nerve. His housemates were being a bunch of hot-headed, morons, who couldn't look two inches past their own noses to see the benefits this would have for them in the long run. Instead choosing to cause themselves a huge headache by constantly butting heads with a woman who had authority over them, and more than enough desire to use that authority to make all of their lives miserable.

Thursday night, after having to endure an

hour

of non-stop bitching and griping by Ron, Seamus, Dean, the Twins, Lee Jordon, and two sixth years Harry only vaguely knew, Harry lost the last grip of his patience and left the common room, barely containing the sharp annoyed words he wanted to throw at the group of stupid Gryffindors.

It was 8:30pm, so there was still some time before Harry had to begin his prefect duties. He ducked into an alcove and pulled out the Marauder's Map. His eyes scanned the map as he tried to think of some secluded hole that he could escape to for a while to get away from his housemates. Suddenly his eyes were drawn to the name

Draco Malfoy, standing alone along one of the ramparts that stretched along the portion of the castle that stretched between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor towers.

His curiosity peaked, Harry made his way there. A few minutes later, Harry found himself pushing open a heavy wooden door and bracing himself against the frigid chill of the night air. He pulled his cloak tighter against himself and began walking along, keeping close to the battlements to block the wind as much as possible.

"Potter?" Draco's familiar voice sounded with an obvious air of surprise. Harry looked down and grinned at what he saw. Malfoy was sitting down with his back leaning against the battlements, and a muggle cigarette hanging loosely from between his lips.

"Hullo Draco," Harry said, speeding up his pace a bit and coming to stand next to Draco. "Mind if I sit?"

Draco blinked in surprise but quickly recovered and nodded his head. "Sure."

Harry quickly sat down and instantly noticed that Draco had cast some area charms to block the wind and warm the area up some. He sighed in relief as the bitter cold disappeared to be replaced by reasonably warm, still, air.

"What are you doing here?" Draco asked after a moment.

Harry shrugged. "Had to escape the Gryffindors. Their endless bitching was getting on my last nerve and I was afraid if I stuck around much longer I would explode and blow my cover."

Draco raised a single brow in mild surprise before he grinned and snickered lightly. "I would think you'd be used to them by now. You

have

had to live with nothing but Gryffindors for the last four years at school. Hell, you used to be

one of them."

"Used

to be, being the key word. And being accustomed to being around them doesn't mean they don't drive me up the wall.. Plus, I spent the last summer surrounded by the Dark Lord and a bunch of Death Eaters. It's a fairly significant contrast, and personally? I prefer the Death Eaters."

Draco chuckled and shook his head slightly. They were quite for another minute as Draco pulled in a long drag from his cigarette.

"So you smoke?" Harry asked.

"Yes..." Draco hesitated for a moment before smirking. "You want one?" Draco asked, digging the pack out of his robe's inner vest pocket.

"Yeah, sure." Harry said, accepting one of the thin cigarettes. He placed it between his lips and lit the tip with his wand. He took in a long slow drag before blowing the smoke out slowly and heaving a long sigh of relief.

Draco watched the entire process with obvious surprise. "This is clearly not your first cigarette," he observed.

Harry laughed lightly and took another drag. "About half way through July I started bumming smokes off the Dark Lord whenever he lit up."

Draco choked and looked at Harry with utter incredulity. "Are you joking?"

Harry laughed. "Nope. Not at all."

"The Dark Lord smokes... and he let you bum cigarettes off him?" Draco echoed, incredulously.

Harry grinned and nodded his head, amused with Draco's reaction. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Yes." Draco replied instantly, earning him another laugh from Harry.

Draco continued to stare at Harry, looking at him as if he were desperately trying to work something out in his head. Harry chose to just ignore it and wait for Draco to gather his thoughts. Instead, he continued to sit there and relax while he finished off the cigarette.

"These are really good cigarettes," Harry remarked after a moment.

"Er... yes, they are. They're magically improved. I get them from a wizard supplier. Charmed so as not to cause all those nasty side effects like lung disease the muggles deal with, but still provide the same sort of buzz. Father insisted that if I was going to do it at all, that I at least get these."

Harry nodded his head in approval and looked down at the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger with renewed respect.

"You really

lived

with him, all summer?" Draco asked suddenly.

"The Dark Lord? Yes, Draco. I was pretty sure we'd already established that." Harry replied.

"Well... what I mean is... how much exposure did you get to him, exactly? I mean, I suppose I thought you just lived in some room at his manor and never really came out or interacted with the Death Eaters. But you make it sound like you interacted with them a lot. Father and Severus were

both

shocked to learn that you'd lived there all summer. I get that you were in that snake form of yours, but..." Draco's voice trailed off with a tinge of frustration.

"I was under a glamour for most of it, actually." Harry replied with a bored tone.

"A glamour?"

"Yeah. I went around most all of the summer pretending to be just another Death Eater. I attended all of the training meetings that the others attended. The Dark Lord also gave me personal lessons before that."

"You really did get personal lessons?" Draco exclaimed with obvious awe and jealousy breaking through his normally stoic mask.

"Yup. It was really brilliant."

"Does Severus or anyone else know who you were? I mean, when you were glamoured?"

"Thor and Barty both know, but Snape doesn't."

"Why them and not Severus?"

Harry shrugged. "Severus always hated me. I mean, we get on a lot better now than we used to be, but I'm still far from being his favorite person. I got pretty friendly with both Barty and Thor this summer, so I felt comfortable telling them. Barty was there for the Dark Lord's resurrection, actually."

"Wow... and Barty was actually Professor Moody last year, right?"

"Yup."

"So... okay, you spent time with Professor Rowle and Barty Crouch, but how much time did you actually spend with... withHim?

With the Dark Lord?"

"Uhm... well... a lot, actually." Harry said slowly as he wondered how much he should say.

"A lot? Seriously? Did he... did he ever curse you?"

Harry frowned. "Well... in our training sessions,

sure. Loads of times. But I assume you're asking if he ever punished me with a Crucio or something, right?"

"Right."

"Then no. He's never crucio'd me for punishment." Harry answered with a one-shouldered shrug.

"Never?"

"Never."

"That's hard for me to believe." Draco said, looking skeptical.

Harry shrugged again. "It's true. He and I actually get on pretty well."

"Now that is

really

hard for me to believe." Draco said giving Harry a flat, disbelieving look.

Harry laughed. "You'd be surprised just how much he and I have in common. Plus, I think he likes having someone besides Nagini to speak to in parseltongue."

"Nagini?"

"His snake."

"Oh..."

The two slid back into silence and Draco pulled out another couple cigarettes and offered one to Harry who took it appreciatively.

"So are you going back to his manor next summer?" Draco asked.

"He's not using the manor anymore."

"Huh?"

"The manor that we were using when you came over the summer? Dumbledore found it. He couldn't get through the wards, but it would only be a matter of time, so we left it. The Dark Lord is using an old castle now, and yes – I will be going back next summer. I intend to go back for the Yule holidays as well, but Dumbledore might try to stick his nose in my business and try to dictate where I can go. I'll have to wait and determine the best course of action to take once I know what he tries to do."

"You're going to spend Yule with the Dark Lord?" Draco asked, looking stunned.

"We

are

related. You're supposed to spend the holidays with family, right?"

Draco blinked. "I'd almost forgotten about that... Merlin, that's weird..." Draco shook his head to clear it and took another drag. "So you mentioned a castle? It sounds like you've been there."

"Yup. I have." Harry paused for a moment before mentally shrugging. "I actually own it."

"You

own it?"

"Yeah. It belonged to the Potters and I inherited it."

"You own a

castle?"

Harry smirked. "You know, the Potters have almost as much money as the Malfoys do. Problem is that it has stagnated in the last couple decades because there hasn't been anyone actively managing the investments. It's just been sitting around collecting interest. Some of the businesses my family owned significant stock in have gone under, while some others have flourished."

Draco scoffed in shock. "If you've got so much money, why have you dressed like a bloody pauper all these years?"

Harry chuckled weakly. "I mostly didn't know about it – the money I mean. I saw my trust vault for the first time when I was eleven and thought that was it. I had no idea that there was a family vault

too, and definitely didn't have any idea that I owned any

properties. I think Dumbledore probably took steps to try and guarantee that I wouldn't go asking questions and learning more about my family heritage than he deemed appropriate. I'm sure the last thing he wanted was me learning that the wizard I was actually named after – my great-grandfather Harrison Potter – was a

Slytherin. Or that I'm actually

related to you. He didn't want me to realize that I actually had familial ties with living, breathing wizards out there. Especially since every familial tie I've got is with a Dark wizard." Harry ended with a bitter chuckle.

"I thought all Potters were Gryffindors?" Draco exclaimed.

"Nope. Harrison Potter was a Slytherin. His brother Daniel Potter was a Ravenclaw. Their father, Heathcliff Potter, was also a Slytherin, while his sister was a Hufflepuff. The Potters were historically all over the place. Every house in Hogwarts has had a number of Potters in it. My dad and grandfather were both Gryffindors and were both outspoken Light wizards, but before them, the Potters were mostly moderates."

"I... didn't know that." Draco replied a bit dumbstruck.

"I'm sure Dumbledore has eagerly helped to spread the idea of the Potters as a historically Light family since he wants to propagate the idea that the Boy-Who-Lived is loyal to only him." Harry sneered and rolled his eyes.

Draco snorted and Harry couldn't help but shoot the blond a highly amused look at the Malfoy heir making such an undignified noise.

"Well, he's clearly misinformed if he thinks you're loyal to only him." Draco drawled.

Harry sniggered and took another drag.

After a minute of quiet chuckling, the pair slipped into easy silence again.

"You're a good teacher, you know that?" Draco said, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Huh?"

"The Dark Arts classes. You're really good at teaching."

"Oh. Thanks. I learned from the best."

Draco gave a curt nod.

"The Slytherins are really starting to respect you."

Harry nodded slowly and grinned lightly. "Good."

"It's weird. The younger ones – the ones who don't know what's really going on yet? Whenever one of them tries to talk bad about you in the common room, one of the older years always comes over and shuts them up."

"There are going to end up starting rumors if they keep that up." Harry said, frowning slightly.

"We're

Slytherins, Potter, not bloody

Gryffindors.

They know better than to let rumors like that get outside the house."

Harry nodded slowly and finished off his cigarette.

"You come here often to smoke?" Harry asked, shifting the subject.

"Often enough. Usually before my prefect rounds."

"Mind if I join you more often?"

Draco looked at Harry for a minute before nodding his head. "Fine."

Harry grinned.

"But you need to get your own damn cigarettes. The Dark Lord may let you bum off him all the time, but

I

won't."

Harry laughed and shrugged. "Well, I can certainly afford it. But I don't really know where to get them. You said something about a magical supplier, so do you owl order yours or something?"

"Yeah, I'll get you information of where I get them from."

"Thanks," Harry said chuckling. He heaved a reluctant sigh and finally pushed himself up to his feet. "Well, it's been fun, Draco. Definitely better company than I was dealing with before."

"I would certainly hope so," Draco drawled, tipping his nose into the air snootily and earning him another chuckled from Harry.

"Thanks for the smokes." Harry took a step forward and left the barrier of Draco's warming charm and shivered. He pulled his robes tightly around him, bid Draco goodbye, and walked briskly back down towards the door that led back into the castle..

– –

The next day Harry helped Hermione with the final steps to her family tapestry potion. It was officially finished, however they were still missing one key ingredient before they could complete the needed ritual and actually make the family tree tapestry. What they needed, was the tapestry itself. Rather, the large piece of fabric that would hold the family tree on it.

The tapestry had to be made on a magical loom and constructed of specially charmed threads. It was expensive and had to be custom ordered. When Hermione had gotten the first quote back on how much it would cost, she had been devastated because she didn't think she could possibly ask her parents to send her that much money for it. Harry had then insisted that he was more than willing to pay for it.

When Hermione refused, Harry pointed out that her birthday had been in mid September, and he hadn't gotten her a gift this year. The tapestry was now officially to be considered her late birthday gift and that he would be terribly hurt if she turned down his present.

She had scowled at him and told him he was playing dirty, but Harry had just smiled sweetly back and filled out the order form with the information for billing his vault.

This had all taken place about two weeks prior. The tapestry fabric had an estimated completion date and arrival of mid-November.

They spent their free afternoon period putting the potion into a fairly large container and sealing the lid. They cast a set of specified stasis charms on it to preserve the potion until it was time to actually apply it to the tapestry, and then left for dinner.

– –

The weekend before Halloween was a Hogsmeade weekend. Back in the last week of August when the Order had picked Harry up at the Leaky Cauldron, and Tom, as 'Nicodemus', had said that he would come to visit for the Hogsmeade trip before Halloween, Harry hadn't

honestly

thought he meant it. He assumed it was just sort of 'for show' for the Order members. Surely Tom didn't actually intend to come to Hogsmeade when it was filled to the brim with Hogwarts students and staff...?

Apparently he did.

But then again, Tom had come to Hogwarts itself in August to accompany Harry for his proficiency tests, and had a nice little chat with Dumbledore while at it, so Harry realized that he shouldn't really be that surprised.

Harry exited the doors of the castle and headed towards the path that would lead down to Hogsmeade, following behind Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville, who Hermione had insisted on inviting despite Ron's response of 'What? You want to invite Neville?

Why?' which had only earned him a glare from Hermione.

Harry felt an odd sense of trepidation. His 'friends' already knew that Nicodemus was supposed to meet him in Hogsmeade, and they were all expecting to be introduced to his boyfriend. It was... weird. Obviously, none of them would realize who it was they were actually meeting, but it still seemed exceedingly odd to be introducing the group of Gryffindors (and one Ravenclaw) to the Dark Lord in the guise of a teenager.

It seemed almost surreal. A strange collision between two of his normally very separate worlds. He wasn't even totally sure how to act around Tom at the same time as his school 'friends'. And, what if he slipped up and called him 'Tom' instead of 'Nick'? This seemed an especially valid concern considering that Ginny was going to be there.

Tom himself did not have access to the memories that his soul from the diary had experienced with Ginny, but Ginny very much still remembered the 9-months of her life that had been consumed by Tom's diary.

Harry wondered sometimes how much the diary-Tom had told Ginny about himself. If he was ever honest with her, or if it was all just a deception because he needed her. Harry wondered if Ginny would recognize Tom if she saw him without his Nicodemus glamour. He wasn't sure if Ginny had even

seen

Tom. Harry had seen the non-corporeal manifestation of Tom's horcrux, but the only reason it had been able to start forming a body was because it was tapping Ginny's magic. Harry didn't know if Ginny had been conscious or aware for any of it.

Harry also didn't know if Tom had ever taken Ginny into one of the diary's memories, like he had with Harry and the memory of him 'catching Hagrid' with his acromantula. It was entirely possible that they had only ever conversed through writing back and forth in the book. He really didn't know. He often wished he could just ask her, but knew that was risky. It was undoubtedly still a tender subject for Ginny, and he would have to come up with some reason why he was suddenly asking her about it, when it had been over three years since the incident and he'd never once brought it up before.

Harry shook his head of those thoughts as the group passed Filch at the gates and began to head down the path towards the village. Hermione and Ginny were discussing Arithmancy. Ginny was having some trouble with something and Hermione was always more than eager to discuss her favorite class. And since she was a year ahead of him and Ginny, Hermione had a bit of advantage on the subject. Rom seemed to be sulking, as he was walking beside Luna, who was staring dreamily off into the distance.

Harry skipped a bit quicker a few steps to catch up with the others and tried to start a mindless conversation with Ron to appease the ginger's bad mood. Discussions turned to some of the twin's latest antics. They'd made a lot of progress in their prank products and had recently started hiring test subjects from amongst their housemates. Anyone desperate for some extra cash in anticipation of the Hogsmeade weekend, could earn themselves a couple galleons by subjecting themselves, willingly, to some of the twin's prank products for testing.

Harry had been quite amused knowing that it were his winnings from the Tri-wizard Tournament that were paying for the self-inflicted suffering of his housemates. After seeing Colin Creevey racing to the loo and staying there for nearly an hour after ingesting some of the Twin's product 'puking pasties' he had decided that giving up his winnings had been totally worth it.

The group finally reached Hogsmeade and headed for the Three Broomsticks where Harry was supposed to meet 'Nick'. The group stepped inside the crowded pub and Harry quickly scanned the tables. His eyes were drawn to the familiar magical energy that he would recognize anywhere, no matter how strictly concealed Tom had it at the moment.

His lips turned up at the sight of his lover, despite the nerves he'd been feeling earlier. Since Harry was keyed into Tom's glamour ring, when he looked upon the elder wizard, he only saw his true appearance, rather than the illusion that his friends and everyone else in the bar saw. Harry's feet quickly took him over towards Tom, who had claimed a corner booth in preparation for Harry and his friend's arrival.

As Harry drew closer, Tom slid out and stood up, sporting a relaxed happy expression. Before Harry even knew what he was doing, he'd slipped into Tom's embrace and the two were kissing. He certainly hadn't planned it, and he'd seen Tom the prior evening, so it wasn't as if he were starved for affection, but it simply felt natural to kiss the man upon greeting.

Harry pulled away when he felt the desire to escalate their activities beginning to stir in the pit of his belly. He had to let out a slow breath to recenter himself, and Tom chuckled as he looked down at Harry with a mixture of amusement and desire in his sparkling eyes. Harry looked up and rolled his eyes at Tom's amusement.

"I missed you," Tom said and Harry smiled while ducking his head shyly for effect.

"Missed you too." He pushed himself forward again and pressed a quick kiss to Tom's lips before stepping back and turning to look at his friends.

Ron was looking away, seemingly rather embarrassed and uncomfortable with what he'd just witnessed. Hermione's eyes were rather wide, but she was smiling. Ginny was grinning widely and giggling. Luna had her head cocked slightly to one side and smiled serenely at him, while Neville was blushing...

a lot.

"Uh, sorry. Erm, guys – this is Nicodemus Tomaras, or just Nick. Nick, this is Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville." Harry said as he motioned to each of his friends.

"It's a pleasure to finally get to meet Harry's friends, in person," Tom said, giving them his most charming cheshire cat smile. He even went so far as to take each of the girl's hands, one-by-one, bowing over them, and placing a kiss on their knuckles.

As he did this to Hermione, Ron got a bit red-faced and began to scowl at him. The girls all seemed to enjoy it, however. Ginny, and

even Hermione,

had giggled at the gesture, while Luna had just given him a bright, brilliant, smile.

The group quickly slid into the booth and Harry's friends began their interrogation. Harry had found himself feeling rather mortified or just simply irritated beyond reason, at some of the questions they had asked 'Nick'. Most were relatively harmless, but some were rather personal.

Of course, the vast majority of the answers they got in return were lies, but Tom was good at lying. He weaved his fake persona perfectly, and quickly had all of Harry's friends charmed, save Ron, who had never really stopped scowling at him after he had kissed Hermione's hand.

Harry found it rather amusing, but also realized that he was rather desperately hopeful that he wouldn't be present when Ron finally came to realize that Hermione was still engaged in a long-distant relationship with Viktor Krum. Hermione, who had continued writing letters back and forth with the Bulgarian seeker, all year, had done a commendable job so far of keeping Ron utterly in the dark. But Harry knew that at some point, it was going to blow up in Hermione's face.

He noticed that Tom seemed to be meeting Ginny's eyes a bit more than was normal and felt slight tendrils of magic subtly moving between them. Harry frowned in confusion for a moment as he wondered what was going on. Ginny seemed entirely oblivious to whatever was going on. Harry realized that part of the magic was a subtle compulsion spell to meet Tom's eyes, and from there it was easy to guess what bit of magic Tom was doing. He was reading Ginny's memories.

Harry realized that Tom, no doubt, was just as curious as to what sorts of interactions his diary horcrux had had with this girl. It really only made sense that Tom would make use of this opportunity to try and learn more about what had happened between them. Harry made a mental note to ask Tom what he'd found out, later. Harry had considered using legilimency on Ginny himself, but he'd lent her a book on Occlumency too, and had been hesitant to try it since then. Tom, however, was a master of his craft, and Harry had no doubts that if anyone could slip by unnoticed, it was him.

After the group had downed two rounds of butter beers, and had a plate of biscuits, Ginny gave Hermione a loaded look, to which Hermione silently nodded. Harry caught the interaction out of the corner of his eye and wondered what they were up to. A moment later, it became clear, as Hermione began to make excuses and dragged a reluctant Ron away, while Ginny did the same with a confused-looking Neville and subtly reminding Luna that she had wanted to visit Schrivenshaft's.

They were giving Harry and Nick some 'alone' time. Harry grinned and chuckled at the 'thoughtful effort' his friends were making. They all left, except for Luna, who lingered behind for a moment. As soon as Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were gone, Luna turned back and looked at Tom with her head cocked slightly to the side again. Then she turned to Harry.

"Harry, were you aware that your friend is using a full-body glamour?" Luna asked in a simple conversational tone.

Harry sputtered slightly and blinked at Luna. Tom's eyes widened and he simply stared at the strange blond girl who, up until that moment, he had found mildly amusing, and little more.

"Wha... excuse me?" Harry asked.

"Your friend," Luna said and pointed at Tom. "He's using a glamour."

Harry's jaw floundered slightly for a moment before he recovered. He suddenly looked serious and pulled Luna down into the booth across from him. He pulled out his wand and discreetly cast a privacy ward around them.

"I actually

am

aware of that, Luna," Harry said cautiously. "But I have to admit, I'm exceedingly curious as to how

you

could tell. Even Dumbledore couldn't see through Nick's glamour."

"Oh, that's not very surprising. There are a lot of things that the headmaster doesn't see, as I'm sure you've noticed."

Again, Harry found himself speechless. Tom was also rather bewildered by this strange girl and chose to wait and observe her more before making final judgment. At the moment, it was obvious that she could tell he had a glamour, but it was not yet clear if she could see

through

it.

"Luna..." Harry began once he'd collected himself again. "I... it's really important that no one realize that Nick is using a glamour. Can you promise me that you won't tell anyone? Not even Ginny."

"That's fine Harry. I didn't intend to tell anyone. It's rather unlikely that anyone would believe me anyway," she replied with a simple smile in that unsettlingly honest way of hers.

"Er, okay. Good, I suppose." Harry replied and, honestly, it was probably true. Most people instantly dismissed everything that came out of Luna's mouth. Suddenly Harry had another thought occur to him. "Luna?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Are there a lot of

other

things that you can see, besides glamours, that other people don't see?" Harry asked.

Luna tilted her head to the side again, looking thoughtful and humming quietly to herself. "Yes, I suppose there is. I can see the Wrackspurts, for example. And Nargles. No one else will even believe they're there."

"Wait, you can

see

Wrackspurts?" Tom interjected, suddenly sounding both stunned and excited. Harry's head jerked to the side and he looked at Tom with stunned confusion.

Luna's eyes lit up with excited joy. "Yes, I can," she exclaimed while nodding her head enthusiastically. Clearly thrilled to have finally found another person who knew what Wrackspurts actually were.

Tom openly gaped at her a little for a moment before he spoke again. "Do you have Alder Elf blood in your line?"

She smiled dreamily and nodded her head. "I do."

"Do you have The Memories?" Tom asked eagerly.

Her face shifted to an apologetic smile and she shook her head. "Only a very little bit. After I come of age, I will gain more."

Harry looked back and forth between the two of them with annoyed confusion plastered on his face. "What

are

you two talking about?"

"Do either of your parents have The Memories?" Tom persisted, still focused intently on Luna and seeming to ignore Harry at the moment.

Again, Luna's expression softened with apology and a tinge of sadness. "No. My mother had them, but she died several years ago."

Tom's eager face fell and he leaned back in his seat with an obvious air of disappointment.

"Are you going to answer me,

now?" Harry asked, giving Tom a pointed look, that seemed to come off as more of an annoyed pout.

Tom chuckled, which caused Harry's expression to shift into a scowl.

"She has the blood of the High Elves in her," Tom said and Harry continued to scowl while raising a single eyebrow as if to say 'I'd already figured that much out for myself, thanks'. "The elves had hereditary memory," Tom went on to explain. "They passed some of their knowledge down to each successive generation, and even those that were descendents from a marriage with muggles or other wizards and witches, still retained the ability – albeit to a somewhat lesser extent than their pureblooded elf cousins."

Harry's expression shifted to a more serious and thoughtful one. "What sort of knowledge is passed down, exactly?"

Tom's gaze shifted towards Luna and she smiled back. "Quite a lot, really." Luna began in an easy, conversational tone. "The Memories contain most of the elven history. Their customs and rituals. Their magics and their understanding of the world and the creatures in it. Although the amount of knowledge retained grows smaller with each generation. Because of this, much of it has been recorded in my family's books, so that we don't lose all of it."

Tom's eyes suddenly lit back up with renewed interest and hope. "Really? You have the elven histories recorded in books? Can I read them?"

Luna gave Tom a surprisingly piercing look; her eyes suddenly losing their dreamy quality. She stared at him long and hard for several minutes. Tom did not fidget under her strange gaze because Tom

did not fidget. Harry had to admit he was impressed with how Tom was able to sit there being scrutinized by her for so long without reacting in some way.

Finally, Luna spoke again. "Years ago, my mother told me that someday I would meet a wizard who would want to see our books."

Harry blinked. "Was your mother a Seer or something?"

"She Saw things that others could not see, just as I See things sometimes." Luna replied cryptically.

"Will you let me see them? Your books?" Tom persisted, clearly determined to get his hands on these books. Harry suddenly worried for Luna's health if she were to refuse him.

"Only if you tell me who you really are." Luna replied.

"What makes you think I'm not who I say I am?" Tom replied smoothly.

"You mean other than the fact that you're using a full-body glamour?" Luna asked, rhetorically.

Tom smirked. "Touche."

"I know you are not who you claim to be, because of what my mother told me when I was a girl." Luna said.

"And what, exactly, did your mother tell you?" Tom asked.

"That someday, one of the Lords of magic would need our knowledge, and that it would be my task to give it to him."

Tom's aristocratic eyebrows rose into his forehead and Harry's eyes went wide.

"Is that so?" Tom asked, slowly, taking on a calculating look.

"I must admit, I'm only slightly surprised to find

you

with Harry, and most of that surprise is merely with the nature of your relationship."

Harry frowned in confusion. "Wait, what? Only

slightly

surprised?"

"It's not terribly surprising that you would be with the Dark Lord, considering how very Dark your aura became over the course of the last year. So for that, I'm not surprised at all." Luna said simply and shrugged, giving Harry an easy, dreamy smile.

Harry gaped at her like a dying fish.

"You clearly seem to already know who I am. Why do you insist that I tell you?" Tom asked then.

"I do not know, I simply believe."

Tom looked blankly at her for a moment before responding. "Well, your belief is correct." His posture straightened and he took on an air of self-importance. "I am the Dark Lord Voldemort."

"And you love Harry?" Luna asked, clearly unphased by the confirmation of Tom's real identity.

Tom seemed a bit taken aback by being so bluntly asked such a personal question but recovered quickly. He turned his head and looked at Harry and his gaze softened almost instantly with affection that could not truly be faked. "Yes, I do."

Luna smiled widely. "You can read my books."

Tom looked back at her with surprise in his eyes. He had obviously expected more of a struggle than that.

"Only I can remove them from the vault my mother left for me," Luna continued to say. "I can go to Gringotts over the winter holidays and fetch them. I'll give them to Harry and he can give them to you. You may make copies, but I would appreciate it if you would give the originals back."

"That would be... most appreciated." Tom replied, still somewhat taken aback by the odd girl and her unpredictable behavior.

Luna smiled widely again and her expression took on that dreamy quality again. "It was very interesting meeting you, Mr. Voldemort. I'll let you and Harry get back to your date now," she said as she began to slide out of the booth.

Harry almost choked at Luna calling Tom, 'Mr. Voldemort', and even Tom seemed a bit stunned by it. Neither one of them commented on the 'date' remark either.

"Er, yeah..." Harry stumbled over his words for a moment. "You... you'll keep all of this to yourself, of course, yeah?"

"Oh, of course." Luna said with a happy nod of her head.

"Um... good."

"Have fun." Luna said cheerfully before turning and leaving the crowded pub.

Harry and Tom stared after her, both equally stunned.

"Is she always like that?" Tom asked.

Harry chuckled weakly. "Yup." He turned back to face Tom, sitting beside him in the booth. "So what's the deal with these books?"

– –

Disclaimer:

I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary:

Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta

Pass

by tannne

AN:

This is going to be it for a while. Sorry it's not exactly a good stopping place. I'll try and post another chapter in week or two just so that I can leave you all with more conclusion or something, but after that, there's going to be a big wait while I write another 200-ish pages. Once they're done, I'll post them in a big batch, just like last time.

It took me exactly

 

two months to write 200 pages last time, so you can expect a similar wait again. It may be a bit longer this time since I've got the Holidays to contend with in December, and we're entering crunch mode at work in preparation for a big demo that's due in January.

– –

Chapter 22

It turned out that Tom didn't have any specific exceptions as to what would be contained within the books. He merely saw them as a potential treasure trove of ancient and powerful magical knowledge.

The High Elves had never been much one for sharing their magical knowledge with witches and wizards. They also didn't write much of it down – or they simply took all of their books with them when they left.

Luna's remarks about what her mother had 'Seen' in relation to the Dark Lord 'needing their knowledge' and it being Luna's 'task' to help him, appeared noteworthy, though. The words seemed rather prophetic in nature, and gave both of them pause.

However, it did very little good to dwell on the issue now since they wouldn't be able to get the books until the winter holidays.

–

Harry and Tom had ended up spending several hours in Hogsmeade together before Tom returned to the abbey. Harry went about the rest of his day like any other Saturday spent at Hogwarts and that night after his nightly smoke with Draco, and his prefect rounds, Harry returned to the abbey as well and used the time-turner to go back 24-hours.

It was difficult not to mention anything about the coming day to Tom since Tom hadn't yet lived through the Hogsmeade visit. But Harry held his tongue and never mentioned a thing about Luna to Tom the entire night or next morning. When Tom left the castle to go to Hogsmeade, Harry realized how utterly bizarre his life was, that Tom was currently leaving him alone in the castle in order to go have a date with his other self from twenty-four hours prior.

All of this excessive time-turner use was likely to drive him barmy before this year was up.

Now having several hours to kill and very little to do, Harry set to doing something he'd been meaning to do for about a week now, but had been hesitant enough that he kept talking himself out of it. He still wasn't convinced it was the wisest thing to do, but he knew it needed to happen.

So Harry dug into his bag and pulled out the two-way mirror that Sirius had given him just before leaving Grimmauld Place on the morning of September the 1st. Harry hadn't actually used it yet, and part of him felt bad for that.

He and Sirius had exchanged two letters over the past almost two months, but they had been very simple and short.

Harry sat down cross-legged on his and Tom's king-sized bed and held the mirror in his lap. Finally, he looked into the mirror and called out Sirius' name.

Several minutes passed with no response. Harry was about to just give it up and consider trying again later when the mirror suddenly warmed up a bit and Sirius' wet and disheveled face appeared in the mirror.

"Harry? Harry?" Sirius exclaimed.

"Hey, Sirius. Yes, it's me. Are you alright?"

"Oh yeah. I just got out of the shower. Had no idea how long ago you had tried to activate the mirror. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I er... actually I wanted to warn you about something. Have you got a minute to talk?"

"Warn me?" Sirius echoed as his brows knitted together with worry. Harry could see Sirius shifting around and sitting down with the mirror held in front of him.

"Yes. Um... something

big

is going to happen on Halloween night." Harry said after giving Sirius a moment to get situated.

"Big?" Sirius asked, looking even more concerned than before.

"Yes. Definitely big. And after it happens, I'm afraid the Ministry might tighten a lot of their security, as well as increase the number of Aurors they've got roaming about. I wanted to make sure you'd be somewhat prepared for that. You'll probably need to lay low for a while."

"You're talking about some sort of Death Eater attack, aren't you?" Sirius asked, gravely.

"Yes."

Sirius sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his face roughly.

"Sirius?" Harry continued, regaining the older wizard's attention. "It might be a good idea to have an alibi with some of the other Order members or something. I don't know if any of them are doubting the whole 'you're not really a Death Eater' thing, especially considering your refusal to actively join the Order again, but I imagine that there could be a few of them that might suspect you were actually a part of this attack."

Sirius frowned. "I don't exactly associate with a lot of the Order members on any regular basis. If I suddenly showed up on one of their doorsteps, just in time to have an alibi for a Death Eater attack, it might look suspicious."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I was thinking that too. Hey, that Auror, Tonks is your cousin, right?"

"Yeah, she is. She's Andromeda's girl."

"Did you ever... I don't know – spend the holidays with them? Like, maybe you could spend this Halloween with them? You could use some excuse like, you not wanting to be alone on the anniversary of the attack on me and my parents, not to mention that it was also the event, that caused you to go after Pettigrew and end up in Azkaban. You could say you're afraid you might drink yourself into a stupor or something if you're alone. Sounds convincing to me, at least."

Sirius snorted humorlessly. "It's not too far off, actually..."

Harry sighed softly and ran his hair through his hair. "Are you doing alright, Sirius?"

Sirius barked out a sharp laugh, and looked away from the mirror. He was quiet for a moment before sighing and looking back at Harry. "I'm fine, pup. Really. You don't have to worry about me."

Harry nodded with a bit of resignation. "Have you spoken with Remus lately?"

"No. Haven't heard from him since he went back to the lycan pack."

"So are you still at that rented muggle flat?"

"Yup."

"...Okay."

Conversation was stilted and Harry finally let out a slightly frustrated huff.

"Do you think you'll go to Tonks or to Andromeda?"

Sirius sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his face again. "Yeah... I suppose I'll try for that. Nymphadora may be working that night, but being with her parents would be enough of an alibi for the Order."

"Good. Good."

"So... er, don't you have classes?" Sirius asked after a minute.

"I'm fine, but I suppose I should probably go soon."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Right..."

"Okay, so uhm..."

"Right. I'll call you again sometime?" Harry said, feeling exceedingly uncomfortable.

"Yeah, that's good." Sirius nodded.

"Let me know if things get sticky for you. I've got a place you could stay that the Ministry could never find you at."

"Are you talking about Voldemort's hide-out?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Technically, yes. Voldemort is using it as his base now. But you could stay separate from any Death Eaters."

"Yeah... probably not, Harry."

Harry huffed. "Fine. But keep it in mind."

"Sure, sure."

"Alright. See you later, Sirius."

"Goodbye, pup."

– –

Harry felt Tom apparate back to the castle an hour later. He was now sitting at his desk in his and Tom's shared office. They each had their own desk, and a few bookshelves. The room also had a nice-sized fireplace that could be hooked up to the floo network, but was currently sealed.

Harry closed the book he had been reading and set it on his desk as he waited for his lover to make his way there. A minute later Tom walked through the door and shot Harry an amused smile.

"That friend of yours is quite a character." Tom said as he hung his cloak on a hook near the door.

Harry chuckled. "Luna? Yes. That she is..."

Tom made his way to his own desk and began to sort through some of his papers.

"Hey, Tom?"

"Yes, love?"

"I was meaning to ask you; you used Legilimency on Ginny, didn't you?"

"Yes," Tom replied simply.

"I'm assuming you were looking at her memories from her first year, right? Her interactions with the diary?"

"You assume correctly. I found some rather interesting things, actually."

"Oh? Care to elaborate?"

"It would seem my younger self got her deeply questioning some of her family's beliefs and ideals. Their stance on the war and their unwavering faith in Dumbledore. However, she had mostly shoved all of those doubts and thoughts to the back of her mind after the incident with the basilisk. The thing is that it would seem that

you

have got her questioning everything all over again. Bringing up old doubts."

"I have?" Harry blinked in slight surprise, but feeling a small sense of accomplishment at receiving confirmation that some of his efforts really were taking hold.

"Yes. It would seem quite a few of the things you've said to your little Gryffindor friends in relationship to the venerable headmaster's trustworthiness has made her start to recall all the doubts and questions she had formed during her first year and she has begun to wonder if, perhaps,

I was right." Tom ended with a smug grin.

Harry chuckled. "Well, that's convenient for me."

"Yes, although it seems to be building some sort of conflict within her. She seemed rather tormented by the thought that she's beginning to agree with anything my diary told her. The idea of agreeing with anything that had come from the mind of the

Dark Lord

is rather unsettling to her."

Harry snorted.

"She also is afraid that she is betraying you by having such thoughts. It's quite a mess inside her, actually."

Harry frowned. "I hadn't noticed there was anything wrong with Ginny at all..."

"She seems rather accomplished at masking and hiding her true feelings and her stresses. Oh, there was another fascinating bit of information I gleamed from her mind –"

"What?" Harry asked when Tom just smirked.

"The sorting hat wanted to put her in Slytherin." Tom said with an amused gleam in his eyes."

"What? Really?" Harry asked with a laugh. "A Weasley in Slytherin? Merlin! That would have been hilarious!"

"Yes, quite. She has tried to convince herself that it was solely because she had already been writing in the diary for a month at that point, and I was simply affecting her, but she had doubts buried deep inside. It's one of her greatest insecurities, amusingly enough."

"Yeah... who knows how her family would have reacted if that had happened." Harry mused.

"Quite. From her memory, the moment the hat suggested it, she nearly went into a panic. She begged the hat to put her in Gryffindor instead."

"I don't doubt that at all. Hmm... Well, this is certainly something to think over. Maybe I'll have a heart-to-heart with Ginny. Confide in her what the hat had wanted to do with me."

"You think you can bring her over?" Tom asked skeptically.

Harry shrugged. "Don't know, but I see little harm in continuing to fuel her doubts about the Light."

Tom chuckled and stood up, walking over to Harry and bending down to meet his lips.

"I do so love to see your devious side." Tom said with a smirk as he pulled back.

Harry gave him a wicked grin before reaching up to loop his hands around Tom's neck and pull the elder wizard back down for a much deeper kiss.

– –

Because of how Harry's 'every-day-twice' schedule worked, he would be living through October 31st at Hogwarts first, and then go back twenty-four hours and living it again with Tom and the Death Eaters. He knew there was next to no chance that word of the Azkaban breakout would reach the school on the 31st though. Still, he couldn't help but spend the day of Halloween filled with anxiety and tension.

His friends took it as his normal annual concern and paranoia, since bad things always tended to happen on Halloween. Harry had even pointed this out to Tom as a reason for them

not

to do the breakout on this day, since he seemed to have perpetual bad-luck when this particular holiday was concerned. He thought that even Tom had a history of a few rather bad things occurring on this particular day. Halloween was the night that Tom had lost his body in 1981, and the troll incident back in '91 hadn't exactly worked out well either.

Tom however, was adamant about the date. Samhain was one of the nights that the Dark magic was most powerful and potent, and the Light was at its weakest. He pointed out that Harry's 'luck' had seemed so cursed for this particular date because, at that time, Harry had been working

against

the Dark, so it was only natural.

Harry had sighed and given in. All he could do was hope everything worked out well.

Halloween fell on a Thursday this year, and Harry went through his normal routine for any regular Thursday. Dinner, however, was a special feast with a fully decked-out Great Hall.

There were carved jack-o-lanterns and thousands of candles floating through the air, high above the tables, and flocks of tiny black bats fluttered through the air.

Harry had noticed in past years that the Slytherins, and some of the other students from old magic families would often scowl at the jack-o-lanterns and he had always wondered why. He was no longer ignorant to the reasons behind their irritation. Jack-o-lanterns were a muggle tradition. Wizards had no history of ever partaking in this particular holiday practice. At least, not until Albus Dumbledore became headmaster.

It was a measure taken to try and make the muggleborn students more 'comfortable', but many of the old families saw it as one more level of insult. All of the old magic traditions that were practiced on Samhain were all but gone from Hogwarts. Only to be replaced with excessive sweets and carved pumpkins.

The previous night at Hogwarts, while talking with Draco, the Malfoy heir had scoffed at the festivities the Headmaster always insisted upon and remarked that next, the students would be all dressing up in ridiculous purchased costumes and begging sweets from their professors all day in classes.

Harry found himself annoyed at the festivities as well. Making the muggleborns comfortable was one thing, but doing so at the sacrifice of their own traditions and culture was unacceptable.

He had to fight with himself through the feast to keep the scowl off his face. Fortunately, Hermione and Ginny seemed to think that Harry's foul mood was entirely based on the reminder of his parents' death, and gave him space.

After the feast, and his prefect duties, Harry escaped through the Honeydukes passage and apparated to the castle. He rarely bothered with the portkey these days since he was finally becoming accustomed to apparition and it made him slightly less dizzy than the portkey since he had more direct control over it himself.

He used Tom's time-turner and made his way back, twenty-four hours in time. It was now Wednesday night and he joined Tom in some last minute planning for the attack that would take place the next night. Late into the night, the pair retired to bed, exhausted and both a little anxious for the following day's important activities.

–

The following day arrived and Harry, Tom, the house-elves and Barty spent the afternoon setting up the courtyard just outside the entry hall for the festivities that would take place before the actual attack.

It was Samhain, and Tom had refused to allow the day pass without the proper traditions being addressed. He also insisted that now that Harry was a Dark wizard, it was important that he learn about their customs and partook in the customs of their people. Harry couldn't argue with that, and was honestly rather interested in the whole event anyway.

That evening at six o'clock the Death Eaters began to arrive en mass and gather in the courtyard. They were

all

supposed to attend this event, although there were a few exceptions that were made. Snape and Rowle being two very obvious examples since they couldn't leave Hogwarts.

Once the festivities were finished, most of the guests would leave and only those Death Eaters who were to participate in the attack would remain.

In addition to the Death Eaters themselves, those who desired to do so were allowed to bring their spouses. The event wasn't a Death Eater meeting, per se, and as such, most were clothed in fine formal robes, rather than the solid black Death Eater robes, and only a very few – those who were more paranoid than the rest about maintaining the secret of their identity – had chosen to wear their masks.

The large courtyard was framed on three sides by the castle itself and the far end opened up to the walled gardens. It was at the far end that two large bon fires had been erected. They were long straight lines, side-by-side with a path cutting between them. Several feet before them, Voldemort came to stand with Harry by his side. He raised his hand into the air signaling for the attention of the gathered witches and wizards and they instantly began to quiet and focused entirely on him.

Excited whispering and reverent stares could be seen from the spouses that had, prior to this point, not yet seen proof of the Dark Lord's return, with their own eyes. They looked upon him with a mixture of fear and reverence, and the whispering was quickly silenced as he lowered his hand.

"Welcome my fellow Dark witches and wizards. I thank you all for coming this evening to join us in celebrating this important day with me and my faithful followers. Tonight marks the festival of Samhain. Oiche Shamhna. The

Feila na Marbh

– the Festival of the Dead.

"Today marks the end of the Light's reign during the year and the beginning of the power of the

Dark! Tonight we burn the sacred flames and we shall pass through them, cleansing ourselves of the taint of the Light and imbuing ourselves with the power of the Darkness! Strengthening our minds, bodies, and our magic and giving us the power to continue the fight for our rights and for the restoration of the power and respect that we deserve!

"We are the

Darkness!

We

hold the true power! The ignorant masses of the wizarding world have laid idle, comfortable in their delusional world of safety while they slowly destroy themselves and our world, and leave us vulnerable to the ever growing threat of the muggles!"

Tom paused and looked out over the large gathered crowd that was enraptured by his speech.

"They would believe us defeated!" he continued. "They think us gone, and that they have won! In the coming year, we shall remind them that we are far from being gone, and it is

they,who will lose in the end! We are not weak, and we will not be squashed into obscurity by their foolish ideals and their willingness to throw away everything that makes us witches and wizards for the sake of assimilating the feeble, detestable, culture of muggles!

"I have returned to you now to resume my noble work. To lead us to the victory that we all desire. Tonight marks the beginning of our return to power. But before that, we shall celebrate! For tonight is a great night! A monumental occasion of great significance and it must be observed appropriately. Join me, my fellow Dark wizards and witches, as I celebrate this night, the way it was meant to be celebrated!"

The crowd cheered at this and the Dark Lord surveyed the gathered group with a smug, accomplished grin. He turned to Harry and smiled before turning back to the gathered Death Eaters and their spouses.

"I am the Dark Lord. I possess powers that I earned through great trials that I completed in my youth. Powers that were granted to me by Magic itself. I have led the Dark for many years, and quite a few of you served me faithfully in the last war, and for that, I am

thankful. Through unfortunate means, my progress was put on hold for a decade due mostly to the actions of my only true nemesis, the Light Lord – Albus Dumbledore. But my time has come again. I would not be defeated by

Deathso easily! We resume our war in secret and someday very soon, the rest of the world will know of my return and that we have stood up to fight for our rights once again!

"Tonight, as is the tradition of our ancestors, we shall all pass through the sacred flames that lay behind me. Many of you shall make this journey with your beloved by your side. This is a night for remembering the dead and showing them honor, but also for appreciating our lives and the lives, that we will make for ourselves in the future. Lives set out before us, still yet to be lived. Lives of those we care about, that we wish to protect. Many of you fight against the established government of our world not for yourselves, but for those that you care for. For you spouses. For your children. It is the future that we fight for. You fight for your life, as well as for the person or persons that you wish to spend that life with.

"This truly is a great night for celebration and for the first step that we shall take to resume our war. It is this night that I have also chosen to make an announcement of my own. For tonight, I will make this journey through the cleansing fire not alone, but with my chosen companion. Tonight I announce to you all, my

Consort."

Quiet murmurs and hushed whispers filled the gathered crowed and quite a few faces displayed open surprise, or downrightshock

at the statement. Harry felt his nerves in the base of his stomach, but kept his expression passive.

"Many of you have come to know him as my apprentice. You have known him as Evan Harris. But today, I introduce you to him as my Consort. My equal in all the ways that matter! A tremendously powerful wizard, whose contribution to our cause will expedite our victory, and grow our base of power with tremendous force!

"From this day forth, he shall be known to you, and to the rest of the wizarding world as Lord Raiodamorte! You shall address him with the same level of respect and deference that you would show to me, and one day soon, when this war truly erupts, the wizarding world will tremble at the mere mention of his name, and shall fear to speak it, just as they all fear and would never

dare

to speak mine!

"I present to you, my chosen consort, and your new Lord!"

The Dark Lord stepped sideways a bit and brought his arm out in a wide sweeping motion towards Harry. Harry stepped forward with an air of power and confidence as he surveyed the crowd. Many looked utterly stunned, but all quickly pushed past their surprise and erupted in applause, knowing that only bad things would happen if they did not.

A mere few minutes later, the ceremonial cleansing ritual began. All lights in the castle died instantly with a flick of the Dark Lord's wand, leaving only the two large bon fires to illuminate the dark courtyard. Quiet, ancient, chanting was begun by the oldest of the group and a long procession was formed. Together, with their arms linked, Tom to the right and Harry to his left, the pair walked first through the narrow path between the two walls of flame.

It was tradition that couples who passed through the flames together would embrace and share a kiss after emerging from the end. The pair finished their journey through the flames and the bright burning wall of fire turned blue from heat and magic. Harry felt the rush of magic coursing through both he and Tom at the same time and felt nearly lightheaded from the intensity of it.

The level of excitement and energy that coursed through him in that moment was powerful enough to overwhelm his nerves and he turned to Tom, seeing past the man's guise as Lord Voldemort. The bald, pale white head with paper-like scaled skin and visible blue veins melted away from Harry's vision, and he could only see the man he loved. The man who had once harbored a small bit of fear, deep inside him, about allowing the revelation of his sexual preference to ever get out to his followers, but who now stood before a group of nearly two hundred witches and wizards and declared Harry to be his.

Harry's arms looped themselves around Voldemort's neck without a moment's hesitation and the two wizards kissed. It wasn't a deep kiss, but the power of the magics around them was like fuel to the fire and Harry found it difficult to part from the other man.

Finally, he pulled away and stared up into the familiar red eyes that never changed, no matter which form his lover was in, and smiled. The Dark Lord smiled back, and Harry nearly laughed at seeing the expression grace the face of his lover's snake-like guise. Harry wasn't sure he'd ever seen Tom smile like that while in this form. He was quite sure that had any of the Death Eaters been close enough to see it clearly, they would have fainted from shock.

The two turned to face back to the fire and the waiting procession on the other side. They each gave a small nod of their heads to the fire, and to indicate the others to follow before turning and walking the path around the large bon fires to stand at the side.

It took an hour for the ritual to be completed and everyone in attendance to have passed through the purification fires. Afterwards, everyone was ushered inside and up to the second floor. The house elves served a feast in the banquet hall and Harry was faced with participating in his first social gathering with Death Eaters that had nothing at all to do with training or planning.

There was alcohol served, but any Death Eaters who were to participate in the attack on the prison later that night were forbidden from partaking in any. Half the hall was filled with tables while the other half was open for mingling and dancing while traditional wizarding ballroom music magically filled the hall.

After eating a wonderful meal, the mingling and dancing began in earnest. Harry and Tom sat at a table, all to themselves on a slightly raised dais at the head of the room. Many of the Death Eaters came to the table to introduce their spouses to the Dark Lord, and to thank him for hosting the festival and banquet. It was during these introductions that Harry found himself referred to as 'My Lord' for the first time. Many of the Death Eaters who approached greeted the pair of them as 'My Lords', but when Harry was specifically, individually referred to with the label, he found he rather liked it. It was strange, but at the same time, filled him with a smug sense of accomplishment and power.

Voldemort gave him a knowing glance as he sensed Harry's emotions over the link and smirked at him.

None of them used his new name, just as none of them would ever dare to say 'Voldemort'. Harry had wondered what exactly the point was to making a name that no one would be allowed to use, but Tom had felt it was important. The name had actually been his idea almost entirely. ' Raiodamorte' was similar to 'Voldemort' in many ways. It was Portuguese, while Tom's chosen moniker was French. Voldemort was an anagram, but it also meant Flight of Death. Harry's was not an anagram, but it did have a significant meaning. 'Lightening Death' – which he thought was a bit obvious, honestly, but Tom had brushed off his concerns.

At one point, while Voldemort was speaking with one of the Death Eaters, Barty came over and gave Harry a pointed look. He let his eyes go from the Dark Lord, back to Harry, and then his eyebrows rose in silent questioning. Harry felt his cheeks heat up a bit and he had to fight against the urge to duck his head sheepishly. He could not appear

bashful

in front of all of his and Voldemort's followers. Most certainly not, after having just been announced the hour earlier.

Barty seemed to end with another look that said 'we

will

be talking about this later', and Harry had nodded in silent acknowledgment.

It was nearly 9 o'clock when all of the introductions and the bowing, and the thanks had finally dwindled away. Voldemort stood and Harry looked up at him curiously, unsure what the elder wizard was doing. Voldemort merely offered his hand out, beckoning Harry to follow. He did so with a slight air of reluctance as he sensed a bit of mischievous intent leak over through the bond.

"I seem to recall Barty mentioning that you put on quite an impressive show of dancing last year during the Yule Ball." Voldemort remarked airily as he began to lead Harry away from their table and towards the dance floor.

Harry blinked with dawning shock at what was about to happen.

"You want to dance?" He asked with a tinge of incredulous disbelief.

"Is that a problem?" Voldemort shot back with a smirk.

Harry's eyes darted out to the crowds of gathered witches and wizards before looking back at his lover.

"I just wonder how many of the minions will faint if they see you

dancing.

I think they already got a pretty huge shock just with being faced with the idea of you having a consort."

"They witnessed us kiss and no one passed out. They can certainly survive seeing us dance."

Harry chuckled weakly and shrugged. "Fine. I'm game."

Voldemort snickered quietly under his breath and led Harry out onto the dance floor. The Death Eaters and their spouses cleared the way for them, and the chatter in the hall quieted dramatically as more and more of those gathered realized

who

was making their way to the ballroom floor.

The next song began to play in the great hall and Voldemort took the lead with a fluid grace. It took Harry a few moments to grow accustomed to being led around the dance floor, since he had learned to be the one doing the leading. But the adjustment came easily to him and he quickly fell into the comfortable rhythm of the music and Voldemort's strong arms. He lost himself in the music and in Voldemort's familiar eyes.

He found himself laughing when his partner actually dipped him, and then pulled him back up and twirled the two of them across the floor. He truly was shocked that the other man was willing to let himself go so freely in front of his followers. Willing to appear so

human

to them. Tom had always considered appearing 'human' in front of them as showing weakness. As long as he appeared inhuman, he appeared omnipotent. Powerful above anything a mere human wizard could be. But in this moment, it was more important to him that he was with Harry. That his followers know that this young wizard in his arms was important to him.

Harry had never entirely agreed with Tom's concerns about appearing human. While he agreed that coming off as super-human and as something great and tremendous to be feared, reduced the chances that some would try to overthrow or contest his power, Harry also felt that it made him less approachable. To be feared was one thing, and Harry appreciated the very great value in it, but to be

respected

and admired was also important. Sometimes Harry truly thought that if Tom allowed himself to be seen as more human, that more people would willingly follow him.

He and Tom had discussed it several times and even Harry wasn't entirely sure where he stood on the issue. He figured that it really needed to be some sort of middle ground. There was no perfect solution.

The dance ended, but the pair didn't leave the dance floor. They shifted into the next one without a missed beat and the others in the hall soon resumed their own dances as well. Eyes still tended to linger on the pair of Lords, but people seemed willing to accept the odd event that was happening before them and keep going.

By ten, the festivities were brought to a close and all of those but the ones who were to partake in the attack left the abbey. Voldemort had given some traditional closing word to the guests just before they all departed, and thanked them again for attending. Everyone who remained behind was given time to change and then regathered in the banquet hall that was now cleared of tables thanks to the quick work of the house elves.

Everyone was separated into their individual units to be debriefed one last time by their squad leaders. Finally, everyone was ready and they gathered in front of the Dark Lord and his new young consort, beside him.

"We have been planning tonight's attack for a month. I have great confidence in all of you that this night will be a great success for us!" Voldemort began. "We shall finally recover those of our numbers who have, in their loyalty and service to me, been captured and incarcerated by the enemy. With the power we hold, we shall crush those guarding the prison with ease and gain the freedom of those trapped within the walls of Azkaban! We will likely gain even more to our cause while at it.

"We've covered the plan for weeks and I expect you all to perform to your absolute best. I shall bring down the prison's wards. Lord Raiodamorte shall lead the group that brings down the front gate! Watch for the signal and proceed as planned. Tonight shall be a great night, and when we are done, the Ministry will feel its first sting of defeat of many to come!

"We leave for Azkaban!"

With a wave of his hand, the anti-apparition wards around the banquet hall, and the infirmary were lowered and cracks filled the air as everyone began to disapparate. A moment later, the group of nearly fifty men and women reappeared on the very edge of the shore of Azkaban Island.

– –

Harry stood at the head of the group, just before the warded gates of Azkaban. Voldemort was quite a bit further away, near one of the key ward stones finishing up his work at bringing them down.

He was truly the most highly skilled wardbreaker there, so he was the only one who could do it. He was aided in his efforts by some very useful insider information thanks to their agents in the department of magical law enforcement, and Jeno Vass. Despite the inside info, it was still a difficult task to accomplish. Wards were tricky business, and the wards of Azkaban were some of the oldest and most powerful in magical Britain.

Harry felt the moment the wards were ripped down, and the designated Death Eater warding team instantly threw up their own set of anti-apparition, and anti-floo wards to prevent any of the guards or Aurors from escaping. With a triumphant smirk on his lips, Harry raised his fist into the air, opened his palm and moved it forward. The inner circle 'generals' each gestured to their individual units and the group as a whole moved forward.

A moment later, they heard yelling in the distance and several Aurors appeared from the gatehouse, apparently bewildered by the sudden shift in the prison's wards.

Their eyes widened comically as they saw the large group of black-clad wizards with white masks approaching them. More yelling was heard, and one of the Aurors disappeared back into the gatehouse. Most likely attempting to call for reinforcements.

Guards appeared at the end of the path from the prison and began to make their way down the road towards the Aurors at the gatehouse.

Harry's wand instantly trained on one of the Aurors and a green jet of light shot out from it. It hit the man square in the chest and he fell to the ground in a heap. Harry was almost stunned at how sickeningly easy that had been. The man had been utterly unprepared. Some

Auror.

The one who had been standing beside him, did not seem nearly as stupid or eager to die and quickly began shooting off curses of his own at the approaching group of wizards. Battle quickly ensued as the Death Eaters engaged the Aurors and guards. Green lights lit up the air, intermingled with a wide assortment of other colors and the glowing gold of shield charms.

Harry sent a severing curse at the ankle of one of the Aurors who kept conjuring mirrors to block the killing curses. The man yelped at having been caught off guard and stumbled. An orange body bind curse caught him the next moment and he felt to the ground unable to move. Harry walked right over the man and continued past as the Death Eater forces continued to push their opposition into retreat.

The guards were calling out for the Dementors, but no backup seemed to be coming. Finally, a group of the black-clad horrifying beasts emerged from the prison, and hope seemed to gleam in the eyes of the Ministry workers. Harry's smirk grew wider as he saw their hope morph into dawning horror as the Dementors stood aside and allowed one of the Death Eater contingents into the prison, unimpeded.

Their horror only grew exponentially as they saw Harry levitate a couple of the bound Aurors towards the group of Dementors. Offering them down-payment for their services.

–

Harry was leading one of the units through the main body of the ancient wizarding prison towards one of the upper-most floors. There were no Death Eaters held captive here, but some of the wizarding world's most dangerous and magically powerful wizards

were

here. These were wizards who the government feared more than others. Many of them here had earned themselves life sentences.

Harry and his contingent of Death Eaters gathered in the long corridor lined with cell doors, while a few of the Dementors gathered at one end of the hallway and waited there, hungrily. Tom had promised them any prisoners from this ward that refused to join him. Many were powerful and strong-willed. If they refused to join Voldemort's side, the possibility remained that they could become a hindrance in the future. Harry heard the faintest echo of his mother's screaming voice and quickly shook his head, fighting to clear the feelings of despair and the chill of fear that was slowly seeping into his skin.

The Dementors had stayed back as the Death Eaters breached the prison. But standing aside did not negate the waves of crushing despair that radiated from them at all times, and it was quickly affecting some of the Death Eaters.

It had been a while since Harry had cast a Patronus. He had hesitated in casting it in front of the Death Eaters during the training sessions, since his stag Patronus was known among some circles and there was no telling who all knew of it at this point. But, he finally decided that it was more important to get their job done quickly than avoiding questions regarding his Patronus.

He could see that the other Death Eaters around him were having even more trouble with the Dementor's presence than he was so he pointed his wand down the hall at the Dementors gathered there, and brought forth the memory of Tom, standing with him in the courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron, telling him that he loved him. With a small smile upon his lips, he called out "Expecto Patronum!"

Out of his wand shot, not a stag, but a

snake!

It was an enormous snake. Even larger than Nagini, and even larger than Harry himself was in his Sea Krait form. The snake Patronus landed and slithered across the floor to coil on the ground in front of the Dementors. It posed ready to strike and extended its hood. It was apparently a cobra of some sort. The Dementors recoiled from it, pushing back against the wall.

The cold feeling of despair that had filled the air, quickly vanished and the masked Death Eaters all looked grateful at the reprieve. Harry noted that a few looked rather impressed that he'd managed the spell. Being such a powerful Light spell, not many of them were capable of it. They quickly set to unlocking each of the cell doors and identifying which of the prisoners actually had enough of their minds left intact to listen to their offer.

The ones that passed the first inspection were dragged from their cells and lined up in front of Harry. Everyone of the intruders was in black robes with white Death Eater masks, save for Harry who was wearing his silver half-mask, and it didn't take a genius or even a very sane man, to figure out that something

big

was going on in the prison.

The eight men and two women who were lined up before him were all staring up at the group of wizards with a mixture of fear, resignation, or

hope. Harry was almost surprised that anyone who had spent any prolonged period of time in this place had any hope left in them. The bonus of recruiting some people from this part of the prison was that not all of these people had been here all that long. All of the Death Eaters they were rescuing had been here at least a decade. Some of these prisoners had only been here a year or two and hadn't gone quite as mad yet.

He began to pace back and forth before the group earning their undivided attention.

"I am sure I do not need to tell the lot of you who we are." Harry began. "The Dark Lord has returned! Right now, the rest of our forces are busy freeing those of our numbers who have been imprisoned here. The Dark Lord himself is

here! Hepersonally

tore down the wards of Azkaban, single-handed! We have the loyalty of the Dementors! The Aurors and guards of the Ministry that were stationed here were mere child's play for us! I am here, before you, to offer you an opportunity. You have two choices. Your first choice;

 

join us.

Become one of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters and aid us in our revolution! Aid us in our war and we shall bring the Ministry down to its knees! We seek to restore the Dark to our proper place in magical society. A position of power and respect! To restore and protect our traditions, and our rights!"

"And if we refuse?" One haggard, yet proud, looking wizard asked.

"Then we leave you here." Harry said simply. "However, with the Ministry no longer in control of the Dementors, they will have free reign to feed to their black heart's content. Anyone left behind today, will likely have their soul devoured within the hour of our departure."

He paused and gave them all a hard cold stare. They all paled as his words fully impacted them.

It did not take long for the group of Azkaban prisoners to agree to take the Dark Lord's mark and join the Death Eaters. Only two refused, and Harry realized that neither one had any sense of Darkness to them. He guessed they likely had Light affinities, so it was best they stayed behind anyway.

Harry signaled his team to head back towards the prison's main staircase. Several of them were now supporting the sickly prisoners, while a few prisoners who had far too much pride for such a thing, despite their weakened state, ambled along on their own.

Harry waited until the group had exited out the door before he called back his Patronus, that had taken up the post of patrolling back and forth along the end of the corridor to hold off the Dementors. He flicked his wand and cast a simple finite to end the spell. As soon as the giant cobra disappeared, the Dementors sprung forward, and came to stop about six feet away from where Harry stood. He pointed his wand to the cell with the two Light wizards who had refused their offer.

"Them first."

He could almost feel the hungry glee of the horrendous Dark creatures as they descended upon the cell. Just as Harry was exiting through the large heavy door, he heard the screams of the two men begin.

– –

On the second floor of Morhda Abbey, on the opposite end of the hallway from the entrance to the Banquet Hall, was an infirmary. It had originally been one of the master bedrooms, so it was a larger room than most. It was now filled with twin-sized cots, and each and every bed was currently occupied by a sickly witch or wizard.

They had three Death Eaters who were trained healers, and one licensed mediwitch. All were in the abbey that night to help tend to the Azkaban escapees. They were also attending to any of the Death Eaters who had sustained injuries during the attack. Fortunately, very few had been hit, and even those wounds weren't that bad. They had been patched up quickly and dismissed after some closing words from Voldemort on how pleased he was with how smoothly the entire mission had gone.

Not a single Auror or guard from Azkaban had survived the attack, so there were no witnesses to report back exactly what had happened, or how. Many were killed during the actual battle. Any Aurors that were captured alive were given to the Dementors as payment for their services.

The ones that had been kissed had then been killed and had their bodies destroyed through magical means, so there was no evidence that of the Dementors role in the attack. Ideally, Tom wanted the Ministry to believe that they still had control over the Dark creatures, and continue to use them in the prison.

That way if any of his followers were captured again at some point in the future, and he ended up having to launch another attack upon the prison, it wouldn't be a problem.

The attack hadn't even started until 10:30pm, which was the time that Harry usually returned to Hogwarts each night. When he re-entered the abbey it was already past one in the morning and he could feel the slight magical vibration in the wards the signified that his other self, from 24-hours in the future, was in the abbey already. Most likely waiting in his and Tom's bedroom. Perhaps, even already asleep, although he doubted as much. He would probably wait up for Tom.

He helped to organize the healers and a couple Death Eaters who were to spend the night, and then switch shifts, to observe the unmarked prisoners who had agreed to join, in exchange for their freedom from the prison. Barty was also going to help relocate some of the Death Eaters into their own rooms as soon as the healers okay'd the move, since the infirmary was

verycrowded at this point.

Finally, just after 2am, Harry bid Tom goodnight and apparated back to the Hogsmeade tunnel and slipped back into Hogwarts. He used his student time-turner to go back just after 10am. He hung around under his invisibility cloak until 10:30, and then he went and met up with Hermione, as they did every night once they were finished with their rounds. They returned to the common room before parting ways at the stairs to the dorms. Harry collapsed into his bed, exhausted from his extremely long night.

The attack had gone flawlessly and exactly to plan. He had done his fair share of battling, but their forces had quickly overwhelmed the Aurors and guards. Mostly, he realized, he was exhausted from exposure to so many Dementors, all confined in such an isolated space.

As he let himself begin to drift off to sleep, his mind wandered back to his Patronus. How strange that it had changed... He'd never heard of a Patronus suddenly being different, although he admittedly, had never really bothered to read up on Patronuses. He'd learned about them from Lupin directly, and had relied entirely on his professor's instruction without ever bothering to do any research on his own. Stupid, yes, but that was just the sort of student he'd been in his third year.

He hadn't read up on them during the last year or so because the Patronus was a Light spell and he simply hadn't bothered to do much reading on

Light

magics. He decided to look into it later and see if it meant something. It was probably related to his affinity change or something... But, he would have to be cautious about casting the spell around anyone at Hogwarts from here on out. If Ron, Hermione, or Dumbledore were to see that his Patronus had changed to a giant snake, it would definitely raise some red flags.

Fortunately, he rarely had any cause to cast the spell around school. None of the members of the Dueling and Defense Association were ready for such an advanced spell, and they had more important things to cover in the Dark Arts Association – not to mention teaching that group a Light spell would be counter-productive to their overall goal.

He finally drifted off to sleep wondering what the next morning would bring.

– –

Harry had established a habit of getting up earlier than any of his housemates. Sometimes he would wait in the common room for Hermione – who was often also an early riser – but sometimes he would simply head straight down to the Great Hall and his 'friends' would slowly trickle in as they each got up.

While sitting in the Great Hall, Harry's breakfast was frequently interrupted by people from other houses coming to ask him questions about defense and occasionally other subjects. As long as he got up early enough, he stayed in the great hall for the entire two hours of breakfast He spent most of his time there reading, or answering questions, or chatting easily with a wide variety of students.

Ron seemed to be having the hardest time getting accustomed to Harry's very different, inter-house social endeavors, and more often than not during the last few weeks, he simply sat with Seamus, Dean, Lavender, and Parvati. Harry noticed that, from time to time, Ron would look over at him with a sad, longing expression that would quickly get covered up by a disgruntled scowl or a sigh. Ron was clearly beginning to realize that he and Harry were drifting apart, but had no idea what to do about it. Harry had little interest in going the extra mile to bridge the gap when he had far too many more important things to tackle.

This morning was progressing as had become normal. Harry had gone straight to the Great Hall after getting up and going through his morning bathroom ablutions. Hermione had showed up in the great hall about fifteen minutes after he had. When she arrived, she found Harry sitting there with a couple books closed on the table in front of his plate of eggs, toast, and a thin ham steak, and surrounded by a group of students. During the first hour of breakfast, the great hall tended to remain mostly sparse in population. Since fewer students were present, fewer people cared if people from other houses sat at the wrong tables. When Hermione showed up, Harry was sitting across from a fourth-year Ravenclaw girl, a pair of fifth year Hufflepuffs, a sixth year Ravenclaw and her friend, another sixth year, but from Slytherin, and past them, was Cedric Diggory, Head Boy from Hufflepuff.

Hermione didn't give the sight a second thought because it had actually become quite common – although the group of visitors cycled and seemed different almost every day. The first time a Slytherin had actually sat down, everyone else at the Gryffindor table had stared and looked as if the Bloody Barron had just flown past. They all looked at Harry as if they expected him to send the Slytherin away, but he hadn't. In fact, he'd treated the Slytherin just as he treated any other student coming up to ask him for help. Harry's pointed refusal to react to his housemate's shock had resulted in the group slowly slipping back into their own conversations and meals.

At this moment, Harry seemed to be in the middle of explaining some sort of offensive magical spell theory to those gathered around him, and Cedric was helping. The fourth year, who was probably in over her head, looked the most confused, and was actually scribbling down notes as Harry spoke. The sixth years from Ravenclaw and Slytherin seemed eager to debate some theoretical aspect behind the origin of the spell, and the fifth years were asking Harry if he had any idea how the spell was originally invented in the first place.

Hermione quickly loaded up her plate and leaned in, trying to catch up and quickly finding herself interested in the conversation as well.

When Ron showed up, he grimaced at the odd group, rolled his eyes, and headed straight over the other end of the table with his group of friends that didn't intimidate and frustrate him so much.

As the second and more heavily populated hour of breakfast arrived, Harry's table companions all made their ways over to their own tables to actually eat breakfast. It was at that point that the post owls arrived. Harry's eyes subtly followed the sight of an owl approaching Hermione with a copy of the Daily Prophet in its talons.

Harry leaned back in his seat a bit with one of his books now open in his lap while he lazily ate a piece of bacon, playing oblivious as Hermione paid the owl and unfolded the paper.

Silently, he counted down in his mind from the moment Hermione flattened the paper, to the moment she gasped in shock.

Harry's head jerked up and he feigned concern.

"What is it?" he asked.

Hermione's eyes were glued to the paper, but she quickly pushed the plates and goblets that sat between them aside and slid the paper closer to him.

There, in huge print across the top of the paper read,

'MASS AZKABAN BREAKOUT! More than Thirty Prisoners Missing, 13 Ministry Aurors and Guards Missing, 12 Found Dead!'

The number of thirty prisoners freed sounded awfully impressive. The reality was that they had only taken 19 prisoners with them. The rest of the 'missing prisoners' were payment to the Dementors for their loyalty and service. Anyone, prisoner or guard, who had received the Dementor's kiss had been then killed and transfigured into rocks and tossed into the ocean, or their bodies had been blasted to dust. They'd left the bodies of any of the Aurors felled by the killing curse, or some other curse, behind to receive a burial.

Harry looked appropriately horrified at what he saw on the paper before him and quickly set to reading the article along with Hermione. At this point, he could hear the terrified mutterings and gasps of numerous other people in the hall.

About two paragraphs into the article, Harry's frown became real. It appeared that the Ministry was pinning the blame as to who was behind the breakout, on Sirius Black. It was suggesting that, since the man had experience with breaking out of Azkaban, he was the most likely candidate for the person who staged this breakout as well. It was fortunate in the regard that there wasn't even a

mention

of 'You-Know-Who' anywhere in the article, let alone giving weight to any suggestions that he could have returned or have anything to do with the break-out. Still, Harry was annoyed that his godfather was going to be under even more heat because of this. Not that he hadn't suspected it could happen. It was why he'd warned Sirius, after all.

Statements from Fudge and several other authorities in the Ministry assured the public that they were ramping up security and that patrols of Aurors and hit wizards would be stationed at all major wizarding villages and major businesses, and that search teams were already working on tracking down the escapees.

The second page featured photos of every one of the prisoners who were missing from Azkaban, as well as an even larger re-print of Sirius' wanted poster.

The escapees who were known Death Eaters were listed first. They were Antonin Dolohov, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, Mikhail Mulciber, Lenox Cecil, Caius Travers, Marcia Altard, Marcus Bainard, and Leo Rogers. Harry hadn't yet memorized what the names of the eight prisoners from the high security ward he'd acquired the previous night were. He would have to make sure figure out which ones they were and get files started on each of them.

Beneath each of the prisoners' animated photos was a small blurb about what crimes they'd been incarcerated for. Harry's eyes fell upon the Lestranges for a moment before they darted cautiously over to Neville, sitting a bit further down, and across the table from him. To say that the boy looked ill, was putting it mildly. His face seemed to be warring with itself. Unsure whether to look nauseous, or furious. Harry's frown deepened. It seemed unlikely that Harry could keep Neville neutral in this conflict. But then again, Harry was sleeping with the man who killed his parents, so who knew? Clearly anything with possible.

Harry let his eyes travel to the Head Table next. Dumbledore was sitting there and was frowning, deeply. McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick all looked equally concerned. Snape was keeping his blank mask up with considerable success. Thor was making it look as if he were displeased, and was frowning thoughtfully. Harry's eyes met with his for an instant and the corner of Thor's mouth turned up in a subtle smirk before his mask was restored.

Thor hadn't been at the meeting so he had not yet heard about Harry's status as Consort. Barty

had

been there, of course, and when the two had briefly talked in the infirmary after the attack, Barty had once again made note to Harry that they would be discussing recent developments in the near future. Harry wasn't sure when the next meeting Thor would be having with the other Death Eaters would be, since he was mostly kept separate to maintain his cover. He knew he was probably going to have to tell the man himself about his change in status, soon. He was anticipating an awkward situation and wasn't looking forward to the conversation at all.

Next Harry let his eyes trail over to the Slytherin table. Most of the older students were doing a commendable job of not reacting at all. The younger ones weren't skilled enough at maintaining their public reactions yet to completely mask their excitement. He knew that one of the sixth years was Marcia Altard's niece, and that Mulciber's son was a seventh year, although he was enrolled under his mother's maiden name.

Harry couldn't help but notice quite a few Gryffindors glaring angrily at the Slytherin table. He sighed. It would never really end. There would always be a divide in their world. Us against them. Old feuds would never really die. But it wasn't his goal to fix that aspect of their society. He wasn't stupid or deluded enough to think he could accomplish such a blissfully stupid, ideological goal. His goal was switching the balance of control for a while – ideally a

long

while – until things were a bit more even, and taking advantage of their control to try and correct some of the more grievous mistakes while the problem of the muggles' 'End of Days' was addressed.

The Light had been in control for far too long. And they were completely fucking everything up. They didn't even see how badly they'd screwed up. They'd lost the right to keep ruling. It was the Dark's turn now.

Once he and Tom had seized control of the British wizarding government, they could finally begin to tackle some of the larger problems. It was only a matter of time now...

Harry's eyes landed on Draco, who looked up and responded with a raised, questioning eyebrow. Harry gave the blond a wide smirk for the briefest of moments before wiping it away. Draco smirked back and appeared to chuckle quietly before he turned to face Blaise Zabini who was sitting beside him.

"Arrogant, pompous git," Harry heard Ginny mutter from the other side of Hermione. He glanced over at her and saw her gaze trailing back to the Slytherin table, and glaring at Malfoy.

"Hmm?" Harry responded, feigning ignorance.

"Malfoy. He's so smug about this. Look how pleased he looks." she scoffed.

"Isn't Bellatrix Lestrange his aunt?" Harry asked.

"Is she?" Hermione asked, surprised.

Harry nodded his head. "Yeah, she's Narcissa's sister. Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Andromeda Black were all daughters of Cygnus Black. They're Sirius' cousins. Andromeda Black is Tonks' mum. You remember – that Auror with the pink hair?"

Hermione and Ginny's jaws dropped open.

"No way! Tonks is Malfoy's cousin?" Ginny gasped.

Harry chuckled weakly and shrugged.

"But I

like

Tonks!" Ginny said with a mild whine.

Harry laughed. "And I like Sirius. You can't judge a person by their family. Heck, look at Percy."

Ginny grimaced and sat down, a bit deflated.

"Well,

we

know that this breakout had nothing to do with.." Hermione began to say but paused and glanced around for a moment before whispering, "Sirius." She sighed and folded the paper closed. "Can we assume it's safe to say that this was really orchestrated by V... by V-voldemort?"

Ginny flinched a bit at the name.

Harry sighed and shrugged. "Who knows. But yeah... probably."

"How can people be so blind?" Hermione huffed in frustration. "They're just living in denial! Deluded themselves, thinking that he's gone, when he's not. We could be using this time to prepare, but we're not!"

"I know from Fred and George, when they managed to listen in on some of the Order meetings over the summer, that Dumbledore has been trying to convince the Minister that You-Know-Who is back, but Fudge refuses to believe it." Ginny said. "This just proves how bad off he is. He's so desperate to point the blame at anything besides You-Know-Who that he's saying that one escaped prisoner could break back in, and free thirty others and kill off twenty-five trained Aurors and guards. It's just stupid."

"I wonder how they managed it though," Hermione said in a thoughtful voice. "I mean, what about the Dementors?"

"The Dementors sided with You-Know-Who in the first war." Ginny said with a nod. "I bet they

let

him in Azkaban."

"That's probably why so many of the Aurors and guards were 'missing'." Harry said, knowing that if he didn't contribute to the conversation at all, it would look odd.

"What do you mean?" Ginny asked, looking confused.

"Anyone that's missing was probably kissed. But they didn't want any evidence left lying around that could incriminate the Dementors for betrayal, so they killed them and destroyed all of those bodies."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "That makes sense," she whispered, looking rather horrified.

"Wait, you don't mean to say that the Ministry is actually going to keep the Dementors in Azkaban?" Ginny exclaimed.

Hermione nodded her head quickly. "They are! It says so, right here," she said as he pointed to one of the paragraphs in the front-page article. Ginny leaned in and quickly re-read it.

"Those idiots!" she growled as she slumped back into her seat. "And the Ministry is being so willfully blind in all of this that they'd probably keep the Dementors around even if another breakout happened five months from now!"

"Even if Dumbledore went to them about it, it probably wouldn't do any good." Hermione said with a defeated groan.

Harry nodded his head, with a mixture of sympathy and outrage on his face.

After a moment's pause, Hermione turned her attention, fully, on Harry. "Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I know you said it was all supposed to be secret, but is there anything from those meetings you've had with Dumbledore that is... I don't know...

relevant

with all of this?""

"Yeah, Harry – can you tell us

anything

about what he's teaching you? Is it all dueling or defense, or something else?" Ginny asked.

"Oh. Actually, it's nothing like that at all. He's sort of giving me... intelligence, I guess."

"Intelligence?" Hermione echoed.

"About Voldemort. Memories that Dumbledore has collected in his search to understand the man and stuff. Trying to find a weakness, I guess. I'm not really sure."

"But why is he showing

you

this stuff?" Ginny asked, looking a bit confused.

Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He'd managed to dodge this topic before now, but wasn't sure how much longer he could manage it.

"It's not something I can talk about in the Great Hall. But let me just say that the reasons that Dumbledore has given me, don't entirely convince me. I mean, given my past history with the man, I'm not particularly inclined to believe what he tells me, at face value."

The two girls nodded their heads gravely, and shared a meaningful look for a moment.

Harry looked at his wristwatch, widened his eyes in surprise a bit and quickly began to stuff his books and things into his bag.

"Class is soon, we'd better get going Hermione."

Hermione gasped, noting the time as well and quickly began to pack up her own things. Harry glanced down the table and saw that Ron was engaged in a rather heated talk with Dean, Seamus, Lavender, and Parvati. They all appeared to be rather riled up, undoubtedly about the Azkaban breakout. Harry realized that he was going to have to keep an eye on Ron to make sure he didn't do anything stupid, like try to start a row with some of the Slytherins in the halls or something.

He and Hermione bid Ginny goodbye – she had a free period so didn't have to rush – and made their way down the table to Neville and then to Ron and their other year-mates, reminding them of the time. They also quickly packed up their things. They all had History first period so they all walked together. Ron instantly set onto Harry to get him to back him up. Apparently, Ron had insisted to Seamus and the others that it wasn't Sirius Black, who was behind the breakout, but rather, You-Know-Who, himself. Seamus had insisted that Ron was a lunatic.

Harry had elbowed Ron in the ribs and whispered a harsh reminder that they weren't supposed to do anything that might clue people into the fact that they knew Sirius. If it got out that any of them knew anything about Sirius Black, the Ministry could try and question them about it. Ron's eyes had gone wide with realization and he'd hung his head with embarrassment and a bit of shame. Harry had huffed and simply walked faster to get to Binns' class.

– –

Disclaimer:

I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary:

Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

Beta

Pass

tannne

AN:

another chapter for you all. woo.

– –

Chapter 23

At lunch, Harry escaped his friends to go up to his dorm room and make use of his two-way mirror to contact Sirius. He was honestly worried about the man and wanted to make sure he was doing alright.

Harry had put the mirror into his school bag and carried it with him just in case some sort of emergency came up, so once he'd gotten up to his room, he pulled it out, sat in the center of his bed while drawing the hangings closed and spelling a privacy spell around him.

He said Sirius' name into the mirror and waited anxiously for a response. It took a couple minutes but finally Sirius' face appeared in the reflection.

"Hey, Sirius," Harry said with a relieved sigh.

Sirius gave Harry a pointed look. "You

could

have warned me, you know."

Harry gave the other a sheepish grin and shrugged. "It was probably best you stayed as ignorant of things as possible."

Sirius barked out a humorless laugh.

"So did you visit the Tonks' last night?" Harry asked, anxiously.

Sirius sighed and nodded his head. "I did. Andy and I caught up on old times. Dora wasn't there, because she was on some sort of assignment at the Ministry. Guarding something around the Department of Mysteries or something. Sounded odd to me. Anyway, I spent the evening with Ted and Andy, so I suppose that's a reliable enough alibi."

Harry let out another slightly relieved sigh and nodded his head in approval. "Good. I'm glad that the Order, at least, isn't going to think you had anything to do with this."

"Yeah, but

you

did." Sirius said with a pointed look. "How much did you know about what was going to happen?"

"Everything," Harry said with an unapologetic shrug.

"Everything? So you knew they were going to murder a bunch of Aurors and guards?"

"Casualties of war." Harry responded easily.

Sirius scoffed and shook his head. "How can you be so cold, Harry?"

"It's a revolution, Sirius, and revolutions don't happen without some bloodshed."

Sirius' response was closer to a bark than a laugh. "A revolution? Where do you get this crap? Voldemort?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. "Whatever, Sirius. Look, I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Are you safe where you're currently hidden? Are there good wards there? The Ministry is trying to peg this break-out on you, so they're seriously upping their attempts to find you."

Sirius grimaced. "I suppose I'm not in the safest of places..."

Harry groaned slightly. "You need to go somewhere safe, Sirius! Things are really unstable right now, and I don't know if even

Icould do anything to postpone you getting kissed if you got caught right now."

"I'm not going to Grimmauld Place," Sirius said, indignantly.

"If you won't go to Grimmauld Place, what about going to an old Potter property instead?"

Sirius' eyes lit up slightly with interest.

"An old Potter property?" He echoed, curiously.

"Did my dad or grandad ever tell you about a castle in Ireland called Morhda Abbey?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I do think I remember Charlus mentioning a place by that name... said he grew up there."

"That's right," Harry said, nodding. "It's a huge castle and it's under a mountain of powerful wards. You'd be absolutely safe there and I've got six house elves on staff, so you'd get three meals a day and your laundry done and everything."

Sirius laughed slightly. "Merlin, Harry! When did you do all this? Six house elves? What do you need that for?"

Harry paused and gave Sirius an innocent, but hesitant smile. "Well, the house isn't exactly empty at the moment."

Sirius' expression darkened. "Who is there, Harry?"

"Well... you'd get to see you

dear

cousin again..."

"Oh hell!"

"For that matter, I think that Narcissa is going over there today to help the mediwitch and the healers, so it'd be a regular family reunion!"

"No! No, no no no!"

"Oh,

come on, Sirius! You'd be safe there, and you won't have to

stay. Just go there until some of the heat has died down!"

"I am not staying with a bunch of bloody Death Eaters! Merlin, Harry! I can't believe that you would be using your great-grandfather's castle to house a bunch of stinking murderers!"

"I spoken with the portrait of Charlus's father, Harrison, and he is quite proud of what I've done with the abbey,

 

thank-you-very-much. And he agrees with what I'm doing with housing the Death Eaters there."

Sirius scoffed.

"He was a Slytherin, you know! He went to school with Cygnus Black – er, not your uncle Cygnus, but your great-grandfather Cygnus. Dorea's father."

Sirius blinked and then screwed up his face as if he were trying hard to remember something long forgotten. "You know, I think Charlus might of mentioned that once... So Harrison Potter has a portrait in the abbey?"

"Yeah. So does Charlus, actually. And

loads

of other Potters. Anyway, you could sequester yourself away from all of the Death Eaters if you really wanted to. You wouldn't have to interact with any of them at all. The castle is huge. I suppose if you werereally

dead set on staying away from the lot of them, you could stay in the west wing of the abbey. Tom and I have that separated off for our use only, so none of the Death Eaters are even allowed in there. But that would mean you'd be living in the same wing as me and the Dark Lord."

Sirius blanched a bit, but then he frowned. "What do you mean

you? You can't be staying there, you're at Hogwarts! Or are you just talking about the Christmas holidays coming up?"

"No... not exactly. I mean... I'm sort of leading a double life, I guess."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Sirius asked hesitantly.

"I'm living every day twice by using a twenty-four hour time-turner every night. I live a day at Hogwarts, then I re-live that same day, at the abbey. So if you went to the abbey right now, I'd be there. Like

right now. You could go there and find another me, while this version of me is sitting here in Hogwarts."

Sirius' eyes widened. "That's... that's

insane. Why would you

do

that?"

Harry laughed. "I've got a lot of stuff to do."

"Wait... Harry, please tell me that you weren't actually part of the attack on Azkaban?"

"Can't tell you that, Sirius."

"Oh, Merlin! Harry, you're

fifteen!"

"So? Because of all my time-turner use, I'll be sixteen in February, and seventeen by next summer."

Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes. "That doesn't change the fact that

right now

you're fifteen. A fifteen year old shouldn't be doing shit like this! You should be worried about homework, dating and Quidditch, not breaking a bunch of bloody murderers out of prison! You shouldn't be trying to plan a bloody

revolution."

Harry guffawed. "I may be fifteen, but it's been a long time since I was anything even

resembling

a child! The world forced me to grow up fast, so I did. It was grow up, or die. I grew up. I could have chosen to run away from all this. To just bury my head in the sand and pretend the world outside didn't exist and sit around while Dumbledore manipulated my entire life and set me up to bloody kill myself for his distorted idea of a 'greater good'. My childhood was taken away from me before I was even born. The moment Dumbledore orchestrated a false prophecy and set an avalanche of events in motion with the intent of molding me into his own personal weapon and a martyr. I had no childhood because I was left with abusive, hateful muggles that treated me like shit.

This

is my taking control of the madness around me! I would rather be in control and growing up too fast, than deluding myself and dying young!"

Sirius flinched back as if slapped. Harry sighed heavily and rubbed his free hand over his face. "But anyway, Sirius. I want you to seriously consider this. Moving into the Abbey I mean," Harry said in a softer voice. "Please, come stay at the Abbey? Just for a little while."

Sirius heaved a heavy sigh. "I'll think about it. I've got some things to take care of first."

"Please

be careful, Sirius."

"Which one of us is the adult here?"

"I don't know, you tell me?"

Sirius snorted.

"Can I send you an owl? I'll send you a portkey so you can come to the abbey."

"Didn't you already give me a portkey last spring?"

"Yeah, but it'll just take you to the old manor and that's not being used anymore and it's been completely sealed off. I don't think that portkey would even work anymore."

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, sure. Send an owl, but don't use Hedwig. She's a bit easy to recognize."

"Alright. Anyway, I've got to go. I'm missing lunch and the others are going to wonder what's taking me so long."

"Okay, pup. Take care of yourself."

"You too, Sirius. Be safe."

"Will do."

– –

Harry pushed the heavy wooden door open and squinted his eyes against the harsh cold wind. He huffed slightly as he pulled his cloak tighter around him and hurried along the rampart, hugging the battlement to reduce the exposure to the wind. He quickly came up to where Draco was already sitting and slid down to sit on the cold stone, sighing in relief as he slipped inside Draco's protective wind-blocking and warming charms, and privacy wards.

Draco was eyeing him expectantly, and his expression quickly grew impatient as Harry spent a minute pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his bag and lighting it with his wand. He sucked in a long drag before letting it out slowly with a heaving sigh.

"Merlin, I needed that," Harry said with a relieved grown.

"Mordred's balls, Harry! I'm dying here! I've waited all day to talk about this! Hurry up and spill you bleedin' idiot!" Draco exclaimed suddenly, and Harry's eyes went wide with shock and then considerable amusement.

He snorted, trying to contain his amusement for a moment before the damn broke and he guffawed before breaking out into near-hysterical laughter.

"What... did you... just say?" Harry managed to get out between his uncontrollable chuckles.

"Shut up, you prat! I'm serious! I'm

dying

to know what happened!" Draco snapped back, his cheeks reddening slightly in mild embarrassment.

"There's not much to say, Draco," Harry said as his chuckles finally subsided. "We broke into Azkaban, killed a bunch of Aurors and guards and let the Dementor's kiss the rest. We got the prisoners we wanted and recruited a few more, then we left."

"Oh,

come on!

You're skimming over all the good parts!" Draco whined. "I can't believe that you got to go!"

"I can't believe I

told you

that I got to go." Harry grumbled, still slightly annoyed at himself for letting that slip to Draco a few nights prior.

But he had to admit to himself that a big part of him had

wanted

to slip. He was sort of developing a – dare he say it? –friendship

with the blond. It was nice to have someone his own age that he could actually tell things. He had Barty back at the Abbey for the days he was there, but Barty was a figurehead in his 'post-dark' life. He'd known Draco since he started Hogwarts – although, their relationship had been anything but amicable during that time.

He had been more honest with Sirius than most, and it was always a relief to talk to his godfather and not have to hold everything back, but he and Sirius had strongly opposing views on politics and the like, so, while he could be honest with Sirius, he didn't exactly feel like he could truly confide in the man, or get much support or understanding. It was nice being able to be honest and confide certain details about his life in others from time to time, and while he could tell Tom anything and everything, he still longed for that connection he once had with his Gryffindor friends.

It was almost odd to think he was developing that with Draco Malfoy of all people.

"Merlin, I wish I could have gone," Draco said in a jealous tone.

Harry snorted. "You just

think

you wish that. It was pretty awful really."

"Did anyone get hurt? I mean, on

our

side." Draco asked and Harry was almost surprised to hear a tinge of concern in his voice.

Harry chuckled. "No, not really. A few lesser wounds were received on our end of things, but nothing serious. Obviously, your father was unscathed. No way he'd have gotten injured by any of those pathetic guards. The Ministry was really stupid with their handling of the prison. They assumed that the Dementors were enough and any humans stationed there as guards were inconsequential. The only wizards ever assigned to Azkaban are lackeys, rookies, incompetents, or people who managed to piss off someone higher-up. None of them could duel worth a damn. It was pretty easy, really."

"Then what was so awful about it?"

"Well, the Dementors might be on our side and they gladly stood back while we took the place, but they were still

there. Youdo

remember our third year, don't you? Not exactly the most pleasant creatures to be around."

"You didn't do anything embarrassing, like faint, did you?" Draco asked with a teasing smirk.

Harry guffawed, looking insulted. "Do I look like I would faint from a bloody Dementor?"

"You did it before," Draco said smugly, goading Harry. "Twice."

"That was two and a half

years

ago. I also managed to get rid of over a hundred of the bloody things with a

single

Patronusat the end of my third year. I'm beyond fainting in the presence of Dementors now,

thank-you-very-much."

"You're lying. You can cast a Patronus? A hundred Dementors?" Draco exclaimed, in disbelief.

"Yeah, sure. I spent most of my third year learning the bloody spell from Professor Lupin. Dumbledore put him up to it, actually. I think he was hoping that it would turn my affinity Light. It actually did for a bit, but it was forced, and since I'm still young and my core is still developing, and I'd gone a whole summer without performing any magic at all afterwards,

and

started messing with so much Dark stuff the next year, it wasn't hard to switch it back the other way. Being a parseltongue, descended from the Gaunts, Slytherins and Peverells on my mum's side, and some Blacks as well as all the mixing the Potters have done over the centuries,

as well as

a few other factors, really left my body far more easily inclined towards a Dark affinity anyway."

"Can you still cast it? The Patronus, I mean? Even though your affinity is Dark now?"

"Yeah, sure. Did it last night, actually. I'm sure you can imagine why. You know... a prison full of Dementors is usually good motivation for properly casting an anti-Dementor shield."

"Even though they weren't fighting you?"

"You've been near Dementors," Harry said, "just being

near

them is enough to make a person feel sick. Depressed, cold, miserable, hopeless... it's awful. And worst of all, it was affecting the other Death Eaters and making their work sloppy. Having a Patronus up blocks all those effects. It doesn't just hold the Dementor back, it also holds back all of the effects of being near them."

Draco nodded his head, looking fascinated. "I want to see it."

"See what?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Your Patronus," Draco drawled while rolling his eyes at Harry being so slow on the uptake.

Harry blinked. "Oh... Well, I suppose." Harry pulled out his holly wand – his cypress wand was currently stowed in his bag with his glamour ring, sitting beside him – aimed his wand down the rampart and brought forth the memory of dancing with Tom at the Samhain festival. A smile curled his lips and he easily performed the wand movement as he spoke the incantation.

White mist billowed from his wand, quickly taking the form of a large cobra that slithered around the stone floor and earning a gasp from Draco, before turning around and looking at the two teens expectantly. It reared his head up and extended the hood, hissing at the blond and causing him to jump slightly – to which Harry snickered – before the Patronus dissipated into a cloud of misty vapor and completely disappeared.

"Bloody hell! You can even perform advanced

Light

spells well! Damn it, Harry. I really do hate you." Draco said with a mixture of awe, jealousy, and annoyance in his voice.

Harry burst out laughing. "Thanks," he said. "Although, that's really the only

advanced

Light spell I know, so I wouldn't exactly say that sets any precedence."

"Yeah, whatever." Draco said, rolling his eyes. "So, you said you used a time-turner so that you could be at the Hogwarts Halloween feast at the same time as going on this Azkaban thing – but how did you get to there? To the Dark Lord's castle – or

your

castle... whatever. And to Azkaban? You're not marked, right?"

"No, I'm not marked. That would be too risky." Harry paused and pulled up the left sleeve of his robes, exposing his unmarred forearm for Draco to see, but also revealing the wide leather cuff still strapped to his bicep. "I do have this, though," Harry said, pointing to the cuff. "It's a portkey that will take me directly to the Dark Lord. It also gets warm if he wants to summon me."

"Brilliant," Draco whispered as he looked at it with awe.

"But I didn't actually use it – I usually don't need to anymore, since I can just apparate there."

"But you're underage! How can you apparate and not get caught?"

"My Trace is gone. The Dark Lord removed it last spring." Harry said with a smug grin.

"It can be removed?"

"Yeah, it was a pretty easy ritual, actually. I can probably get the details for it from the Dark Lord if you'd like. It's why I was able to practice magic all summer long without ever getting caught."

"I figured you were just behind really good wards."

"That too, but it's still better to be safe than sorry."

Draco smirked and rolled his eyes. "Well, the wards at Malfoy Manor are capable of preventing the Ministry's Trace from detecting when I perform magic, but it

would

be nice to be able to use my magic where ever I went..." Draco drawled.

Harry chuckled. "I'll see about getting you a copy of the ritual."

Draco smirked at Harry and gave him a curt nod.

The two lapsed into silence for a few minutes as they resumed smoking. "I'm curious, Harry..." Draco began slowly and Harry turned his attention to the blond. "Did you see the prisoners – the Death Eaters, rescued from the prison, I mean. Were any of them... sane?"

"They were pretty out of it, and I didn't have a lot of direct interactions with any of them. Mostly I was with the team that went and acquired a few new recruits from one of the other wings."

"Oh," Draco said, with a nod and a far off look in his eyes.

"You want me to check on your aunt and uncles? I'm going back tonight."

Draco's head turned and he looked at Harry with wide eyes. "You are? Really?"

"Yeah I..." Harry paused and twisted his face a little before mentally shrugging. Oddly enough? He sort of trusted Draco. And he knew that the only person the blond might tell this was his father and Harry wasn't really worried if Lucius found out. Draco would be careful. He wasn't stupid. And as an added bonus, Draco was already quite accomplished with Occlumency. "Honestly? I go every night."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes. I've got access to a twenty-four hour time-turner and have used it to re-live every day since September first. I live a day here at Hogwarts, then go back twenty-four hours and live the day all over again, but with the Dark Lord."

"Bloody hell! That's ludicrous! Surly you're not so important to his plans that he wants you around that much?"

Harry laughed and shrugged.

"Doesn't that get confusing?" Draco asked.

Harry barked a laugh. "Yes. Yes it does. But I've gotten used to it. Been doing it four months now, so I'd better be used to it."

"Four months? You said Septe... oh. So instead of two months since term started, it's been four for you? Circe, that would be maddening! How can you stand it?"

"It's really not that hard. Gives me lots of extra time to get everything done – of course I've got loads more going on than most people, so I need it."

"I imagine. So you're still going to all the Death Eater meetings? And you do it all under a glamour?"

"Right."

"And my father and the others still have no idea that you're there?" Draco asked rhetorically before snickering quietly and shaking his head. "Merlin, if they realized that they were fighting side-by-side with Harry-bloody-Potter."

Harry chuckled. "I

know."

They were quiet again for a moment before Harry turned back to Draco. "So... your aunt?"

"Right... yes, I think I'd like to know."

"You're mum is supposed to be there in the morning, actually. Lucius said that she'd be coming to help the mediwitch and healers with looking after the escapees."

Draco coughed a bit on his cigarette smoke. "Is your secret alter-ego on a first-name basis with my father?" He asked with a mixture of incredulity and amusement.

Harry grinned. "Maybe."

"What name does Father know you by?" Draco asked with a curious sparkle to his eyes.

Harry laughed. "No way. If I told you and you told him, he'd likely have a bloody heart attack."

"Oh, come on, Harry!" Draco whined, and Harry found that entirely amusing.

Harry continued to chuckle and shook his head. "No. Maybe I'll tell you further down the line, but not right now."

Draco rolled his eyes, huffed, and took an indignant drag from his cigarette. Harry just chuckled more.

"So, have you ever met your aunt?" Harry asked.

"When I was a baby, I'm sure," Draco sneered, rolling his eyes. "I was only about a year and a half old when she got put in Azkaban."

"Right, good point. What about your other aunt?"

"Other Aunt?"

"Yeah, Andromeda. The one that married a muggleborn."

Draco sneered again, only with far more disgust than the playful sneers of earlier.

"Oh,

her."

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. "Merlin, Draco, don't be such a ponce."

"What did you call me?"

"A

ponce. Honestly, you'd really hate your own aunt, just because she married a muggleborn?"

"He's nothing but a poor, filthy mudblood." Draco said, sticking his nose into the air, snootily.

Harry snorted. "Have you read any of those articles about muggleborn in the Prophet lately? Your father was even quoted in that story the other week. What was it called? 'The Annihilation of the Muggleborn Myth,'

I believe."

Draco frowned, "Yes, I read it. It's just stupid propaganda. Rhetoric for the ignorant masses."

"Actually, it's

true.

And if we can get all of the muggleborns back in the magic world, they'll stop breeding with muggles. It's the muggles that we need to stay the hell away from, not the so-called 'muggleborn'. They're still magical. They're still

us."

"Do you spew this tripe in front of the Dark Lord?"

"He 'spews' it, in front of

me, actually. He's the one I first heard about all the creature blood origin stuff, from."

"If it's what the Dark Lord believes, how come I'd never heard anything like that before, then?"

"In the early days it was easier for him to get followers and respect by sticking with the dogma all the old Dark families of Britain already followed. It was Grindlewald's line during the second muggle world war, when the German wizard was allied with Hitler. The Dark Lord was using it as well only to gain the loyalty of everyone who followed Grindlewald up until he got defeated. But now he's already got respect of the Dark wizards. Plus, everyone sees that he was powerful enough to not

die, or at least, not

stay dead, so there's sort of that shock and awe thing added to it. He's not wasting so much energy trying to form his initial base. He's

got

his base. What he's got to focus on now is winning the actual war with as few complications as possible.

"The fact of the matter is that the neutral wizards won't easily follow someone they think is a psychotic murdering bastard. If he can win over the neutrals on some issues, it'll mean less resistance for him. Neutrals are mostly halfbloods, or purebloods of lesser families with no political standing. Or they're

Muggleborn.

They usually don't give a damn about how many generations back they can claim 'pure' magical blood. But they

can

still appreciate the concern over losing our magic by thinning our blood further, and losing our traditions and sacrificing our culture for the sake of 'progress'. Or giving up the old ways in order to make the muggleborn more comfortable, or by having our ideals washed away by people who want to modernize to keep up with the muggles and their messed up society.

"The less exposure we have to the muggles the better. They're doomed anyway. But we really can't exile all our muggleborns because if we did that, then the muggles might stumble across them and start to figure out that

we're here too

and take us all down with them.

We can't deal with the muggles yet because we're too divided and there're just too damn many of them. Best way to avoid the problem is to bring the muggleborn back into our society and cut ourselves off from the muggles, completely."

"Why bother bringing them into our society?" Draco said with a sneer. "We should just kill the lot of them off. They're just filthy blood anyway. Even if they are descended from squibs of pureblood families, they've still bred with muggles. Too much muggle blood in them. They'd just contaminate our lines with their filth."

"We can't kill them all off because of that point I made earlier about wanting to woo the neutrals." Harry said, rolling his eyes. "If we come off as a bunch of psychotic murdering crazies out for genocide, no one outside the old Dark families will follow us. Besides, I see little need to kill the mudbloods off. They can still be useful members of society and some of them are still magically powerful. The ones that have too much muggle blood and are too magically weak can just be sterilized. They can adopt any magical orphans out there if they want kids."

"Sterilized? Well, that's an idea, I suppose. But I don't see how any of them could be 'magically powerful' at all since they're descended from

squibs

and

muggles."

"Yeah, but you've

seen

for yourself that some muggleborns can still be magically powerful. Look at Hermione? She may not be a magical powerhouse, but she's brilliant and you'd be hard pressed to find a spell she can't perform. I'm actually in the works of figuring out her magical ancestry. I'd bet you ten galleons she's descended from an old Dark family."

Draco scoffed. "Granger, from a Dark family? How ludicrous. I'll take that bet. What are you doing to figure out her ancestry?"

Harry chuckled. "She and I have brewed a potion and ordered a blank tapestry. We're going to perform the ritual in a couple weeks when it arrives to generate the actual family tree on it. So I guess we'll know for sure then."

"Hmph," Draco coughed out, rolling his eyes.

"But anyway, back to the argument of muggleborns being inherently weaker. Studies prove that one or two generations of lesser blood can sometimes bring new life to an old bloodline. Revitalize it. Add a little genetic diversity into the soup. It's when you start getting three and four generations of breeding with muggles that you start to get problems. Weak magic, and more squibs."

"The Dark Lord really buys into the tripe?" Draco asked with a disbelieving sneer.

Harry snickered and then bit his lip. "Promise not to tell anyone what I'm about to tell you?"

"Harry, you know I won't tell

anyone

any of the stuff you tell me. I thought we'd already covered this?"

"Yeah, I know, but this one is kind of... well, the Dark Lord doesn't really like this getting around."

Draco's eyes lit up with increased curiosity. "Yes, yes, I promise. What is it?" he asked, impatiently.

"His father was a muggle."

Draco blinked. "Who's father?"

"The Dark Lord."

Draco's eyes widened and his face slacked, comically. Harry smirked and snickered quietly.

"You're lying."

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Honest truth. Swear it."

"Bullocks!"

"No, I really do swear it's the truth! And if you ever wanted proof that a single introduction of some fresh blood can revitalize an old, dying pureblood line, and result in a seriously powerful wizard, he's that proof. The last line of descendants from Salazar Slytherin was a pathetic bunch. It's

really

sad how they'd degenerated through the centuries. I think I mentioned to you, they were called the Gaunts? My mum descended from a squib from their line. I saw some pensieve memories of the last of them and they were a nasty sight. But this one, rich, handsome muggle caught the eye of the last Gaunt witch. She snatched him up with a love potion, and bam! You've got the most powerful, brilliant, wizard to come along in hundreds of years. Fortunately, he inherited his muggle father's looks, because the Gaunts were a right awful sight to behold. Far too much inbreeding in that family. They did awful things to themselves in the idiotic effort to remain

pure."

"You're really serious?"

"Honest truth."

"Merlin..." Draco breathed in shock.

"Not a word to anyone!"

"Of course not!" Draco shot back, defensively. "No one would ever believe me, anyway."

Harry chuckled.

Draco screwed up his face in thought for a moment and Harry couldn't help but smile, when he thought about how comfortable Draco had become around him, if he was actually allowing his emotions to display on his face without feeling the need to completely mask them.

"What did you mean by 'it's a good thing he took after his father's looks'? I mean... well, he doesn't exactly look...

human."

"Oh, that." Harry paused, debating internally for a moment. He'd already told Draco that Tom's father was a muggle; it seemed minor to reveal the other thing... "That's actually a serpentine transformation," Harry finally answered.

"What?"

"Well, I told you towards the end of summer that my ability to turn into a snake is a parselmagic spell – a serpentine transformation. There are lots of different forms that a parselmage can learn, and the way the Dark Lord looks in front of everyone else? That's one of them. But he can turn it off and look human whenever he wants. When he's human, he's really incredibly handsome."

"Really? Wow..." Draco breathed and Harry could see the awe in the blond's eyes.

Quiet lapsed again for a moment and Harry could tell Draco wanted to ask another question.

"If his father was a muggle, why does he hate them so much?" Draco finally asked. "I mean... how could he end up leading the wizards in the last war on a crusade to wipe them all out?"

"Well, he was orphaned. His stupid muggle father abandoned his mum after she let the love potion wear off because she deluded herself into believing he would love her back, or stay for the baby. She died just after childbirth, so he was raised an orphan."

"How do you

know

all this?" Draco asked incredulously.

"He told me. Are you forgetting again how he and I are related?"

"Yeah, but even if you're related, I have a hard time believing that he'd just

tell

you things like this. It's awfully personal, and not exactly the sort of things he'd want to get out."

"True. True." Harry conceded. "We're... close. But anyway, he basically grew up

hating

muggles. He was raised in a muggle orphanage and was treated terribly by them. So he certainly had plenty of hate for them, all on his own. Not really enough for genocide, but muggles were the easiest scapegoat to use, and easiest rhetoric to form in order to gather loyal and enthusiastic followers back after Grindlewald fell, and he was recruiting his own army. The Dark sect was already deeply resentful, and fearful, of muggles for the damage the Great Wars had brought to them, and the muggleborn for the extra risk of exposure they brought to our doorsteps, so it was what he used to gain support. He didn't even have to really

believe

it all himself, he just needed followers and that was how he got them."

"And now that's changed?"

"Like I said, he's already a name. Everyone knows how powerful and dangerous he is. Even after he's been gone more than a decade, people are still afraid to say his name! He doesn't need to build a following from the ground up. And even the purebloods aren't as resentful of the muggles at this point as they are resentful of the Light. The Light party in control of the government is the one bending over backwards to placate the muggleborns and make them feel welcome and all that rubbish. Spineless wizards who are scared shitless of anything even remotely Dark so they outlaw everything. The old families blame the muggles and muggleborn for it, but even more so, the Light wizards in control who enacted the laws. They're the enemy right now, and even the Neutrals can see that the Light power base is going overboard on some things, or not doing enough with other things. Win over the Neutrals and we've got this thing in the bag."

"And the Death Eaters are okay with this switch in goals? Not attacking muggles anymore? They're okay with that?" Draco asked.

"Sure there are some that aren't too happy, but they're more afraid of the Dark Lord than they are angry over the switch in targets. And most of them can see the logic in the switch too. It's not like the Dark Lord has totally forgotten about the muggle problem. He's still going to address that, but not until after we've got control over Britain."

"I can't believe that he'd let you in on all his plans."

Harry just shrugged.

They chatted for a little bit longer before it was time for them to go on their Prefect rounds, when they parted ways.

– –

Disclaimer:

I am not JKRowling. I do not own Harry Potter. This is a work of fanfiction and no profit is being made. It is a for-fun endeavor and no infringement is intended.

Summary:

Dark!Harry, Slash, HP/LV, Rated M, Dumbledore Bashing

AN:

this doesn't mean that I have a nice big batch of chapters ready to post. Sorry. In fact, I've been rather blocked on this story, and I do apologize for that. I think I'm going to try to refocus on it again in a week or two, but I figured I'd give you what I've got at this point.

Added note – this chapter has not been through a beta pass yet... I haven't really even done much of a proof-reading pass either, so there's probably more typos than usual.

– –

Chapter 24

Harry spent a couple hours in his and Tom's bedroom reading while he waited for his past self and his lover to come back from Azkaban with the Death Eaters. He felt the wards alert him when everyone began returning to the abbey, and sat reading for another hour after that waiting until he could tell that his other self had left the abbey. By that time, Harry's eyes were drooping and he was fighting the need to sleep, but was determined to stay up until Tom went to bed.

He left his and Tom's room, slipping his glamour ring on as he walked, and made his way through the west wing to the first floor, through the entry hall, into the east wing, and up to the infirmary where he knew Tom was. He had with him a self-inking quill and one of his bound notebooks so he could make note of any of the things he would need to be addressing the next day in regards to the new still-unmarked escapee recruits.

He strode into the infirmary and saw Tom, or rather,

Voldemort, standing off to the side by Barty and the two Death Eaters who were assigned to guard the unmarked escapees for the night. Voldemort's head rose and as their eyes met he smirked.

"Welcome back, love," Voldemort said with a vicious smirk and Harry grinned widely. A small thrill shot through him at being called that in front of any of the Death Eaters. Part of him still had trouble believing that the Death Eaters now knew the nature of he and Tom's relationship. Even though they still didn't realize

who

exactly Harry really was, this was still one step closer to really being

out.

Harry couldn't help but notice the wide-eyed double-take one of the guard Death Eaters did in response to Voldemort's greeting to 'Evan'. The other hid his reaction better, but his brows still rose into his hairline a bit and his eyes danced between Harry and the Dark Lord with something akin to shock. They'd been at the festival, seen the two kiss, and dance later in the banquet hall, but it was no doubt still difficult to truly grasp the concept of their Lord being in a romantic relationship with anyone. He didn't exactly come off as a loving person when with his Death Eaters.

One of the very few people who

did

know who Harry really was, was presently giving him another pointed

look. Barty was standing beside the two guard Death Eaters and looking at Harry with an air of curious amusement. Harry dodged his gaze and refocused on the Dark Lord.

"How were the...

reactions?"

Voldemort asked with a smirk, Harry knew he was referring to how the the Prophet and the populace of Hogwarts had reacted the morning the attack had been announced – something which Harry had experienced even though it hadn't actually happened yet –

stupid, confusing, time travel...

Harry snickered. "Amusing."

"I'll bet. You'll tell me more later."

"Of course."

Harry continued striding forward and looked around the packed room, focusing on the side of the room that held only the unmarked escapees. "Do we know any of their names yet?"

Barty stepped forward and pointed at the first cot. "That one is Louie de la Pole. Next is Terance Deverux, then Eli Ferrers, Silas Fairfax, Tate Dudley, we don't know her name yet, she passed out the second we put her on a bed and the healer doesn't want to risk waking her yet. Next is Elijah Herbert, Silvia Fiennes, and Jackson Montague."

Harry was writing in his notebook while Barty spoke and nodded his head when he was done. "Good. I'll go through the prisoner files we got from Vass on the high security ward and pick out the ones we got." He looked over at Voldemort. "Are we going to mark them in the morning?"

"Healer Bohun suggests waiting at least twenty-four hours so that some of the nutrient and healing potions can take effect and they're more stabilized." Voldemort said with an air of disinterest. "I require full consciousness and absolute willingness to mark my followers, so I will wait."

Harry glanced over at Barty with a silent nod for him to continue his report. "They're better off than

our

group," Barty said, "since most of them have only been in there a couple years, but they're still pretty bad off. That place... it's not easy to get over in just a single night."

Harry nodded his head, seeing the flash of pain cross through the wizard's eyes.

"How are the Lestranges?" Harry asked, knowing that Barty had been close to all of them, and also asking on Draco's behalf.

Barty grimaced. "We'll have a better idea in a day or two. The Healer has put all of our people into a healing coma. They'll be out for a couple days."

Harry nodded his head and made a few more notes in his book. He turned and looked at Voldemort and could tell his partner was a bit weary. Not that anyone else would be able to tell; the Dark Lord hid it well. But Harry knew the elder wizard was probably exhausted. Taking down those wards had not been a cakewalk, despite how easy Voldemort made it look.

"Is there anything else we need to attend to tonight?" He asked Voldemort. The Dark Lord let out a barely perceptible sigh.

"I have two things I need to address, but it won't take long. Meet me in our chambers." Voldemort said to Harry before turning to the Healer who had just come in from the storage closet, said a few final instructions before turning and leaving.

Harry sighed and was about to leave as well when he felt Barty's hand lightly grasp his upper arm. He turned and looked at Barty with a tired expression. "I'm pretty tired, Barty. We'll talk in the morning, yeah?"

Barty chuckled quietly. "You bet your arse, we'll talk," he said quietly under his breath so that no one else in the room would hear. "I cannot believe you didn't tell me!"

Harry turned back and smirked, unapologetically.

"Does Thor know?" Barty asked.

Harry's expression turned sheepish at that point and he shook his head. "No. He doesn't have a clue. Since he wasn't here for Samhain, he doesn't even know about the whole consort thing yet. Neither does Severus."

"Merlin, I wish I could be there when you tell him...

either

of them," Barty whispered, snickering. Harry grimaced.

"I'm not exactly looking forward to it. How do you think Thor will take it?"

"Hell if I know. He's a hard guy to predict. I'm mostly wishing I could watch

you

as you tell him. It's so rare I get to see you squirm."

Harry sneered playfully at Barty, causing the man to guffaw slightly and drawing semi-stunned looks from the two Death Eaters on guard duty. Harry rolled his eyes and pulled Barty further away from the others in the room.

Barty was still snickering.

"What's so funny?"

"That sneer just reminded me of Malfoy," Barty said, still chuckling.

"Lucius?" Harry asked.

Barty nodded.

"I guess it makes sense... I have been spending a bit too much time in Draco's company."

"Ah, yes, your forays into friendship with the mini-Malfoy."

"It's better than spending time with any of the bloody Gryffindors. They're driving me batty."

"Yes,

I know. You complain about them

daily.

I can only imagine. Damn glad I wasn't sorted into that house."

Harry snorted. "You? In Gryffindor. Merlin, I can't even imagine that. Although, honestly, I can see you getting on well enough with the Weasley twins."

Barty scoffed. "Those two menaces? They drove me up the wall in class."

Harry chuckled. "Sometimes I forget that you had to teach them."

"I sure as hell won't ever forget." Barty said with a joking grimace. "They kept trying to test the limits of Moody's magical eye."

Harry laughed, drawing the attention of the two guards and the healer, who all seemed stunned by it and quickly diverted their eyes when Harry looked over at them and gave them pointed glares.

Barty snorted. "You're a

Lord

now. Can't be seen joking around by the minions, I suppose?" Barty teased.

"Pfft. Lord or no, I'm not changing my actions that much around you or Thor. Besides, I like teasing some of you... playing with Severus is always amusing. And in any case, unlike Tom, I don't have any issues with being seen as

human." Harry said quietly, rolling his eyes.

"It's

Tom

now, is it?" Barty said in a quiet, but teasing voice as he nudged Harry in the ribs with his elbow. "He lets you call him by his old name? I thought he never let

anyone

use it."

Harry mentally scolded himself for the slip, but also found himself wondering if Barty had already known that the Dark Lord's name was Tom. Harry chuckled, as the perfect response to Barty's teasing came to mind. "Of course I call him by his name. Do you think I call out 'Voldemort!'

when we're in bed?"

Barty blanched and Harry laughed at his reaction.

"You two are really...?"

"Yes.

Really."

Barty grimaced again and Harry rolled his eyes. "You know he doesn't always look like that. I mean,

you saw

what he really looks like. Back when he was resurrected."

"Ah, I had wondered if he could go back. Ever since that first meeting where I brought Sev to the manor, I've only ever seen him with his old face."

"Of course he can look however he wants, but his human face is still his real face. He can switch between his real face and the serpentine one at will. It's like a switch for him."

"Well that's a relief, for you. And now that I think about it, he really was quite a looker. Our Lord was truly a handsome man in his youth."

"He still is. He just uses the snake face to instill fear and respect. He's got this idea in his head that if the Death Eaters saw him as human they wouldn't follow him. Which is ridiculous because he's amazing and powerful and brilliant, and none of the changes just because he looks different." Harry rolled his eyes slightly. "He almost never uses his Voldemort guise when we're in the western wing, since no one but us and the house elves can get in there."

Barty nodded his head in understanding, but looked a bit awestruck.

"So how long has this been going on?" Barty asked finally as the pair of them exited the infirmary.

"I thought we were going to talk in the morning?" Harry asked with a tired, and slightly annoyed look.

"This is a big castle. I'll walk you to the entrance hall."

Harry chuckled and shook his head before finally sighing in defeat. "Since spring. We'd been sort of... getting closer, even before I moved in to his manor over the summer, but I suppose it was during the summer when things got really serious."

"You're

really

sleeping with him?" Barty whispered with a mixture of awe and incredulity.

Harry paused in his stride and looked at Barty. He rose a single eyebrow at the older wizard. "Bit of a personal question, don't you think? Besides I think I made that fairly clear a moment ago."

Barty just smirked and gave him an unapologetic shrug. Harry knew he would never be this brazen if Voldemort were actually around, but he and Barty had developed a comfortable relationship over the months, and had only grown closer during the last month while Barty was living in the abbey. And honestly, Harry was glad that Barty wasn't suddenly treating him differently, given his new position as 'Lord' and Consort.

Harry rolled his eyes, shook his head and resumed his strides down the hall, turning into the small corridor that led to the staircase. Barty jogged to catch up, chuckling quietly under his breath.

"So?" Barty asked as the two began to descend the spiral stairs.

Harry looked at him curiously. "So, what?"

"What's it like to shag the most powerful wizard alive?" Barty asked with a mixture of reverence, and humor.

Harry coughed out a laugh. "Did you seriously just ask me that?"

"Yes, I did, and I want an answer."

"Well, you're not getting it!"

"Oh,

come on, Harry!"

"Barty!

Watch what you call me, while in the bloody castle!" Harry hissed as his eyes darted up and down the stairs, and he quickly reached out with his magic to make sure no one was around.

"Bullocks! Sorry, bad slip there."

"No, kidding!" Harry growled. "It's not just us and Wormtail in the abbey anymore. There's going to be a whole mess of Death Eaters living here after this, so no more 'Harry'. Got it?"

Barty ducked his head, sheepishly, honestly feeling a bit stupid for the slip. Fortunately, most all of the Death Eaters from the raid had gone home already, and all of those rescued from Azkaban were asleep or in a magical coma. The two resumed their journey down the stairs in silence for a moment.

"I apologize, my Lord," Barty said, and Harry found himself grimacing at the new monicker for the first time. It was one thing to have all of the Death Eaters calling him that, but it was weird for Barty to do it.

"You don't have to call me that either – well, not unless we're in a meeting, obviously. Evan is fine."

Barty smiled slightly and perked up a bit as the two continued to walk down the winding staircase.

"You're really not going to tell me anything about your sex life?" Barty asked with a tinge of mock hurt and disappointment in his voice. Harry turned around and glared at the now grinning Barty Crouch, through narrowed eyes.

"I don't kiss and tell," Harry settled for as he turned away from that damn playful smirk. Barty was weird like that sometimes. Harry sometimes wondered if the guy were bi-polar. He could be perfectly serious one minute and then turn into a playful, teasing, git the next. It really was a considerable contrast from the Moody persona he had portrayed during Harry's previous school year.

"Oh, I bet that some part of you has been

dying

to gush about your bedroom escapades with the Dark Lord. And who else, besides me, can you do it with? I really don't see you talking about this with

Thor. Great bloke, but I really don't see him as the sort to enjoy raunchy gossip."

Harry barked out another laugh. "What do you think the Dark Lord would do if he knew you were trying to get me to talk about our sex life? I know you're not a sadist, and

no one

enjoys being on the receiving end of the Dark Lord's

Crucio."

"I'm only offering what I think you need."

"And what is that?"

Barty shrugged and grinned. "A friend."

Harry halted completely in his steps and blinked at Barty with an air of surprise. "What?"

"I'm not blind. I see you nearly every day – or rather, every-other-day, for you – and I've listened to you bitch and moan about those bloody Gryffindors for months."

"What are you getting at?"

"Feel free to curse me if I'm wrong –

my Lord –" he added with a cheeky grin that earned him a hard glare from Harry, "but I think that being around all your old friends and having to play nice with them is just reminding you that you don't have them anymore.

Friends, I mean.

Pretending

to be friends, but not actually being able to rely on them the way a person relies on, and confides in, their friends, is crap. We all need friends. I know I miss my old friends. I miss Reg, and I've missed Bella, Rudolphus, and Rabastan. It's obviously why you've been getting friendly with mini-Malfoy. It's also why you've never treated me like you treat the rest of the Death Eaters."

Harry looked at Barty with an unreadable expression for several long seconds as he thought over the older man's words. He would admit that he'd connected with Barty a lot, and really did treat the man differently than any of the others. Barty was, in reality, quite a bit older than Harry, but having been locked away in Azkaban for a year, and then spending about a decade under the imperious curse had stunted his mental development. He really wasn't any more emotionally developed than Harry was. Harry realized in that moment that, aside from Tom, Barty and Draco were the closest things he had to actual friends, with Thor coming in next, although he was more like a friend-like mentor since the man was older,

and

he was actually emotionally and mentally developed enough to act his age.

Did he really miss having friends?

Yes. That was an stupid question. He wasn't going to lie to himself. Honestly, it was probably the most substantial reason he was trying as hard as he was to quietly woo his old friends over to the other side. Having Ginny, or the twins, or Hermione join the Dark wouldn't actually help the war efforts any. None of them had any real influence or power, and even if they chose to fight for the Light, it was unlikely that any of them could contribute any real defense, so even taking them out of the equation by making them neutral didn't make a difference.

But part of Harry really did want to bring some of his friends with him. Harry almost growled at himself in annoyance.

Even after the way they'd all abandoned him, time and again...

He sighed. At least he wasn't deluded enough to want to bring Ron along. Ron was a lost cause and Harry knew that.

But he really did miss having friends. He missed having people he could confide all his secrets to, aside from Tom. He

did

want to have someone that he could gush to about Tom...

and their sex life.

Barty was right. He really

did

want to tell someone about his life with Tom. He really did want to consider Barty a friend.

And Draco. How weird. Did he want to tell Draco the whole truth? Honestly? Yes... he did. But part of him didn't. Or perhaps he was just wary of doing so. In any case, telling Draco would have to wait.

He looked up into the other man's eyes and found Barty smiling back at him. He rolled his own eyes, huffed quietly and resumed going down the stairs.

"You just want to be counted among my

friends, because I'm a

Lord

now," Harry said, teasingly.

"I

was

a Slytherin." Barty teased back. "It's all about putting yourself into the best position of power and influence, and taking advantage of it."

Harry snorted.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and Harry exited into the main corridor.

"Are you just going to ignore my offer? No reply at all? I offer you my friendship and you don't even honor me with a response?" Barty asked as they rounded the corner and headed towards the large double doors that would take them into the entrance hall.

"You aren't really so insecure that you actually need me to give you a response, are you?"

"Of course not!"

"Well, I think you know the answer."

"So we're friends?" Barty asked and Harry paused and looked at him with mild bewilderment.

"You're very weird for a Slytherin." Harry remarked after a moment.

Barty chuckled and looked sheepish for a moment. "Want to hear one of my deepest, darkest, secrets?"

Harry's brows rose into his forehead. "Er... sure."

"The bloody sorting hat considered putting me in Hufflepuff."

Harry choked on thin air before guffawing loudly. "What?" he exclaimed through his laughter.

"The damn thing said I was incredibly loyal and not afraid of hard work. I nearly fell off the bleedin' stool."

"Did you ask it to put you in Slytherin instead?"

"Didn't have to

ask

it anything. It said I

could

have gone to Hufflepuff, but that I had more cunning in me, and was too sneaky for the badger house, in the end."

"Merlin, Barty! How bizarre a thought that is. You in

Hufflepuff." Harry said, shaking his head and chuckling.

"Yeah, I shudder to think how I would have turned out if it had gone the other way. I never would have been best mates with Regulus. Never would have gotten close to Bella – even though she was five years ahead of me. But she

never

would have associated with a bloody Puff."

Harry's laughter ended instantly and his eyes widened with realization. "Wait, the 'Reg' you've always mentioned was

Regulus?As in Regulus Black? Sirius's younger brother?"

"Yeah, didn't I mention that at some point?"

"If you did, I must have missed it. Did you ever meet Sirius?"

"A few times, yeah. Reg and I were in the same year at Hogwarts – two years under Sirius, Severus, Lucius, and Narcissa, and five years under Bella, Rudolphus and Rebastan."

"How did you get close with Bellatrix, anyway?" Harry asked, honestly curious.

"Reg was her favorite cousin, for obvious reasons, and she dotted upon him like mad when he started Hogwarts. Since he and I were close, it sort of rubbed off. Plus I am sort of a distant cousin to both of them. My grandmother was a Black, you see."

"Oh! Merlin, you're right! Charis Black married a Casper Crouch! I noticed that a while back and totally forgot to ask you about it. So Casper Crouch was your grandfather, then?"

"That's right. One of the Dark Lord's early financial supporters after Grindlewald was defeated, which was one of the reasons my father was so openly anti-Dark magic. He was trying to distance himself from our Dark family ties for political reason." Barty sneered with obvious disgust in his expression.

"Your father was a bloody wanker. Sent Sirius off without a trial, and sent off his own son to that hellhole."

"The only reason he got me out was because it was my mum's dying wish." Barty said with a sigh. "She was dying anyway and begged him to make the switch."

"And even after he gets you out, he makes you spend a

decade

under a mind control curse. It's unforgivable, what he did!"

Barty snorted humorlessly. "Did I ever thank you for finishing him off?"

"Er.. no. Honestly I had wondered how you handled that... It doesn't bother you?"

"The only part of it that bothers me was that I wasn't able to do it myself." Barty spat coldly.

Harry nodded in understanding and the two passed into the entry hall and strode across the open grand space to the opposite doors that led into the west wing.

"Well, this is where we part." Harry said, giving Barty a small soft smile.

Barty nodded. "Right you are. Will my Lords be joining the lesser people for lunch tomorrow in the dining room?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Don't know yet. I imagine tomorrow will be busy. Goodnight, Barty."

"'Night."

– –

When Harry entered their bedroom, Tom was already there and in the process of undressing. Harry grinned and let his eyes linger over his lovers form as the man stripped down to nothing but those snug, formfitting boxer briefs he wore.

Tom obviously felt Harry's gaze because he turned around and smirked back, knowingly. He strode towards Harry and began to help him with removing his robes.

"It has been

quite

a day," Tom said in a quite voice, but a smug accomplished grin spread it's way across his face.

Harry laughed lightly. "That's for sure. Although, for me, it was yesterday."

"True, true. The plans went off without a hitch. We have retrieved my old followers, and acquired new recruits, and on top of all that, all of my followers now know that you are

mine." Tom ended in a low, possessive voice that sent a shudder up his spine, and a surge of Tom's delicious Dark power that made Harry slightly light headed.

Harry let out a slow, shuddering breath, looking at Tom with slightly lidded eyes, loving the elated, greedy look in the elder wizards eyes.

"Not everyone knows. Snape and Thor don't. And once the Azkaban escapees are all conscious, they'll need to be informed as well."

Tom brushed his words off. "It's not a concern. They will all learn soon enough. The fact remains that it is now known amongstalmost all

of the Death Eaters that I have a claim on you. That you are to be revered and respected. Treated as my equal."

Tom finished removing Harry's robes and shirt and sat down on the end of the bed. Harry smiled down at him and allowed his lover to disrobe him. He loved watching Tom's long, slender fingers, as they worked the button on his trousers and slowly pulled down the zipper. Tom looked up at him with hunger in his bright red eyes as his hands slid to Harry's hips and his thumbs hooked around the belt loops there and tugged downward. Harry's pants slid off his narrow hips and fell to the floor.

"You wanted me to tell you about the reactions to tomorrow's news?" Harry asked in a breathy voice.

Tom shook his head. "You can tell me in the morning." He leaned in and pressed his lips just below Harry's naval. Harry's breath hitched as jolt of pleasure shot through his gut at the feel of Tom's warm breath, and the nearness of Tom's mouth to his already painfully erect member.

Tom leaned back, grinning up at Harry smugly, and Harry grinned right back. A quick bit of maneuvering later, and both had removed their boxers, leaving the two completely nude. Tom sat back down on the bed and scooted back a bit, motioning for Harry to straddle him. Harry climbed onto the bed, placing his knees on each side of the elder man and was quickly pulled down by a forceful hand placed behind his neck.

Harry moaned into Tom's mouth as their lips crashed together and he felt the possessive need that was churning through Tom and across their link. Tom's free hand went down and gripped Harry's hip, pulling their pelvises flush against each other and bring them each some much needed, glorious friction.

Tom's hand that had been at his neck shifted into his hair and fisted his hair tightly. Tom's hips came up, starting a rhythm that Harry quickly met, grinding their hips together.

"Mmmm... oh... oh..."

"Yes...

Oh fuck, Harry..."

"Merlin, Tom! Uuoh!" Harry moaned out as Tom pulled again on his hair, separating their lips.

Tom's hand left Harry's hip and came up to his mouth where he licked his palm quickly before slipping his hand back down between them and gripping both of their cocks together.

Harry called out and whimpered wonderfully. He thrust his hips, pumping both of their cocks into Tom's hand and bringing the both of them closer still to that glorious release. But suddenly Tom was pushing Harry off and flipping him over onto his back.

He straddled Harry then and attacked his mouth and neck. Licking his chest and nipples, all the while, resuming their earlier position, only now with Tom in control. After a few minutes of this, he had Harry writhing in torturous euphoria and a puddle of need and desire.

"Please Tom... Please," Harry panted as his back arched up, pressing his cock into Tom's hand and against Tom's own rock hard member. "I need you... I... more... in me. Now!"

Tom chuckled slightly, but it was breathy and heavy with his own desperate desire. "As you wish, my love," Tom whispered in Harry's ear as he let his talented tongue trace over the lobe, and the spade earring there.

He wandlessly summoned the lube and quickly set to preparing Harry who was calling out nonsense and practically shaking with the intensity of his desire to be filled.

Tom brought Harry's legs up over his shoulders and forcefully plowed into his young, nimble lover.

"Uugh! Gods... you're still so tight. Even after all these months..." Tom ground out as his body was wracked with bliss.

Harry grinned smugly despite the near-painful stretching that always greeted the first plunge of the night. "Magical healing factor, I suppose," he breathed out. "Who knows – maybe I'll always be tight for you."

Tom groaned out and his head collapsed down onto Harry's chest and he hummed hungrily. "Wouldn't that be lovely," he breathed through a sly grin.

"Yes... sure... lovely. Come on, Tom. Fuck me already."

"Cheeky brat." Tom chuckled and pulled out slightly before plunging back in again harshly.

Harry called out in shock and in pleasure.

Tom set a quick, rough pace, rocking the entire bed and bringing Harry to the point where he was screaming profanities and clawing at Tom's back by the time the pair came, simultaneously; each ones own individual pleasure echoing across the link and amplifying the other's.

Tom heaved a satisfied sigh as he slid down onto the bed beside Harry, who almost instantly nuzzled his way into Tom's side.

Tom waved his hand, bringing the blankets up and covering them. He wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulder and held him tightly against him.

"Mine," he whispered in a satisfied, possessive growl.

Harry chuckled and just snuggled in closer in response. "And you're mine."

– –

It was early the next morning – November 1st – and Lucius Malfoy was growing very impatient as he paced back and forth through the entrance hall of his home. His wife was dallying, and he couldn't wait much longer for her. He had to apparate her to the Dark Lord's castle, because only a person baring the Dark Lord's mark could apparate in through the wards, but he also needed to get to the Ministry. He had important things to do today. The Ministry would no doubt be in an uproar in reaction to the events of the previous night's attack on Azkaban, and he needed to manage and properly direct the Minister's panic.

While he stood, waiting impatiently in the entrance hall for his wife to finally finish with whatever it was she was doing, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to the previous night. When the Dark Lord had first announced that he would be holding a Samhain Festival at the castle, he had been a bit surprised, but also greatly pleased. In the early years of the last war, the Dark Lord had held such events, but such celebrations had fallen to the wayside in the later years. Lucius had been even more surprised, but also quite pleased, to learn that spouses and trusted adult family members were welcome to attend the event.

It was like a hint that things might actually return to the old ways. Where the Dark Lord was more than just a leader in a revolution, but also a figurehead in their traditions, culture, and rituals. It caused a powerful, excited bubble of anticipation to build in Lucius' chest.

Then his mind wandered to the

other

shocking revelation of the previous night. The Dark Lord's consort. Even after all these months, Lucius still didn't know much about Evan Harris. He'd done some light digging out of his own curiosity and could find no reference to anyone by the name that met the man he'd come to know as the Dark Lord's apprentice. He assumed, thusly, that it was most likely an assumed name, although it made Lucius that much more curious as to who the man really was.

The wizard was fairly young from what he could tell. Maybe somewhere around twenty – not that he would judge the Dark Lord's choice – in fact Lucius could imagine having a youthful consort could be quite a boon. Evan Harris was clearly a powerful and skilled enough wizard to earn his position at the Dark Lord's side. Lucius had seen the man duel in the advanced training sessions and their training leading up to the attack on Azkaban. He had felt the man's powerful magic aura.

Seen

with his own eyes the level of skill the young man possessed. He was truly an impressive wizard, and if the Dark Lord wanted to take the young man as his own, he would never dare to question such a thing.

It was still shocking, though. He had to admit, part of him had a very difficult time seeing the Dark Lord as a person who would feel romantic affection for anyone, or ever be willing to display anything resembling tenderness. But that belief had been shattered with what he had witnessed during the ritual, and the dance later the previous evening.

When the announcement about the Dark Lord's new consort had first been made, Lucius had wondered if it were just a power play. If it was a partnership based on convenience and power as had long been common among the powerful and influential pureblood families, but then he had seen the two together. The kiss they had shared after passing through the ritual cleansing fire; and the dancing later... The dancing had shown him for sure that there was far more to the relationship of the Dark Lord and Evan Harris than power or political maneuvering. The Dark Lord had been...

tender

with Harris. Gentle caresses, honestsmiles –

the Dark Lord at

smiled!

And it wasn't a sadistic or gleeful smile, it was a warm, caring smile.

As shocking as it had been to witness such a display from his Lord, it somehow left him feeling... excited? Hopeful? He wasn't even sure. He was happy – which was probably odd. Happy for his Lord? Yes... and no. That wasn't entirely it. He

was

happy for the Dark Lord; happy that the man had managed to find

love

– because it was clear from the look in the man's normally frightening red eyes that he was in love.

Lucius considered himself lucky. So many of his peers had married for power or convenience. Arranged marriages for the sake of their families and their bloodlines. Marriages devoid of any real affection. However Lucius truly loved his wife. He had courted Narcissa during their last year at Hogwarts and had been overjoyed that his father and her father both approved of their match.

However, he was not simply happy for the Dark Lord, having found love. He was also eager to see what sort of changes this would continue to bring to his Lord and their cause. He had already seen a dramatic shift in strategy and goals from the previous war. The Dark Lord was more sane this time; more focused. His plans and tactics weren't nearly as violent, and he was more concerned with winning the war with as little conflict and as few deaths, than he was with simply crushing the opposition utterly and making them suffer.

Lucius would admit that in his youth he had eagerly followed the Dark Lord and had even enjoyed the violence, but he had perhaps mellowed a bit with age. He had more than a decade of experience with careful political maneuvering, and had grown accustomed to a comfortable, stable, life and time spent raising a son that he desperately loved. With such experiences now under his belt, the violence he once relished was no longer quite so appealing.

This Evan Harris had been by his Lord's side since before Lucius and the other Death Eaters had even been summoned to return. Harris had apparently played some crucial role in the Dark Lord having returned to bodily form. Harris was always treated differently. The way they spoke to each other; the body language they used in each others presence; the nearness they often had to each other... now that he thought back on what he had witnessed of the two of them, he realized that they had likely been involved intimately this entire time he had known Harris.

Perhaps it was this young man that had brought many of the changes he had seen in his Lord? If he was, Lucius had only thanks to give the young wizard.

Lucius wondered about him though. He had a very,

very

difficult time, imagining anyone being in an intimate relationship with the Dark Lord. Evan Harris was a good looking young man. With as much power as he possessed, he could likely have any partner he desired. Obviously this was true, since he had managed to gain the interest of the most powerful wizard alive. And while Lucius revered the Dark Lord deeply, he couldn't help but mentally cringe at the thought of the man being intimate with someone... and the way he

looked...

But then he thought back to the previous night. It wasn't nearly as shocking as he would have expected it to be – seeing the Dark Lord in all his horrific glory,

kissing

Harris. With his features softened with uncharacteristic tenderness, it

almost

wasn't disturbing.

Almost.

Lucius turned and gave an annoyed, impatient huff and Narcissa finally rushed into the room, apologizing for taking so long, but she couldn't find something or other because one of the elves and misplaced it. She had a bag with her that included her own kit of medical supplies and potions. She was anxious to see her sister. He knew that. Her shoulders were tense and her brow was creased with nervous worry. It was uncharacteristic for his wife to so openly show her dismay and he knew it was a sign of just how worried she was.

Lucius sighed and walked over to his wife, resting one of his hands on her shoulder while bringing the other up and threading it gently down through her silken golden locks. He leaned in close and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. They shared a look that said more than any words and she gave him a worried, but grateful smile.

He wrapped his arm around hers and a moment later they vanished from the hall with a

crack.

– – – –

AN: review reply:

To TamPup91 -

- You have Private Messaging disabled in your preferences, so I couldn't respond to your questions. Don't know if you'll see this here or not, but I'll answer.

Q1what the heck is Dream of Doll?

- This is in reference to the 'what I think what would make cool wizard robes' image I posted on my author profile. Dream of Doll is a Korean company that makes BJD (Ball-Jointed-Dolls). BJDs are very popular among asian countries and especially in Japan. They are very very VERY EXPENSIVE. People go crazy for customizing the things, doing custom 'face-ups' (painted make-up, etc.) and making custom costumes. I like the Dream of Doll site because they have such original and awesome costumes for their dolls. My sister-in-law actually used to own a couple of these dolls. While I find them astetically awesome, I would never own one because they are soo insanely expensive.

Q2Will Bleeding Darkness have MPREG?

- No, it won't. I've got no qualms with mpreg in some stories, but I'm not going there with this one. If a child was ever involved in this story it would be in an epilogue and it would most likely be an adopted orphan, but I don't have any plans at all for a child to ever be introduced into their relationship.

AN: First off – an Unfortunate Notice:

For those that do not follow my forum, I'll post the notice here as well:

Breeding Darkness, and Rebirth are officially on Haitus.

I apologize, but real life has gotten in the way of my writing. In addition to that unfortunate fact is the simple reality that I've completely lost interest in both of the stories.

My real life is a very full, and stressful, chaotic mess, and I write to escape from that stress.

Writing is my fun-hobby and I do it for myself.

If it's no longer fun, and becomes a chore, then there is seriously no point in doing it. Unfortunately Breeding Darkness has become a chore because I really don't like it anymore. I get that lots of people

do

like it... but I don't. And I just can't write a story I don't like anymore.

So, while I appreciate that a lot of other people really enjoy these stories and there are some that would say I have a commitment to my readers to keep going, I'm afraid that at the moment, both stories will go onto the shelf for a while, if not permanently. I do not have the will, nor the desire, to keep going on either.

I do, in fact, know where I'd take Breeding Darkness - so it really is not a matter of writers block. I've got it planned out and outlined for quite a bit further into the story, I just don't like the story anymore. I don't

want

to keep writing it.

And as for Rebirth - it was always a slightly aimless plotbunny. In it's case, I legitimately don't know where to take it now. I've got no vision in my head of where the story is going anymore.

*shrugs*

So - I'm sorry. I really am. But like I said - this is my happy-place and my escape from stress. I refuse to allow it to generate more, unnecessary stress in my life, so I'm doing this for my own mental health.

This doesn't mean I'm not writing anymore. You wouldn't believe how many plotbunnies I've started over the last couple months during my limited freetime - generally during my lunch breaks from work. I think that one of them even got to be around 30 pages before I closed the doc file and dismissed it to the pile of dead bunny corpses. If I actually get a story that seems to be sticking, I might post it, but I'll probably wait a good long while to make sure I'm not just going to lose interest in it and drop it like all the others. So... like, at least 200 pages before anything gets posted.

Once again, I am sorry.

What follows is what I had sitting around, incomplete and unposted:

– – ~ # # ~ – –

Chapter 25 (incomplete)

Harry walked into the infirmary with his bound parchment notebook and an auto inking quill. He'd gone through the files on each of their 'new recruits' and had made a list of questions that he intended to ask them in person. He went over to the healer who was currently on duty and asked her about everyone current status.

After a brief discussion, he noticed someone else enter the infirmary out of his peripheral vision and turned to look. It was Narcissa Malfoy. She paused at the entrance for a moment before she turned to the only person in the room that she actually cared about. Her sister.

Narcissa quickly made her way directly to Bellatrix's bed and set a bag she was carrying down on the chair beside her bed. She bent over her and delicately brushed her fingers over the sallow, sunken features of the sleeping woman. Harry observed her silently from across the room for a moment. She was clearly trying to hide her emotions, and yet she was also obviously affected by the emaciated state of her sister.

The healer asked Harry permission to go over to Narcissa and he nodded his ascent. The healer quickly strode over and began to speak with the aristocratic blond witch and Harry took that time to begin to speak with a few of the new recruits who were currently conscious. It was a mixed batch. The only really consistent thing between them was that they were all thankful to be the hell away from Azkaban.

Their case files were a varied mix. Some were more detailed than others, and he took a moment with each one to clear up some details on why exactly they were sent to prison. He wasn't the least bit surprised when two of them actually insisted they'd never even done the crime they'd committed. Whether this was true or not, Harry didn't really know, or necessarily even care. That is usually how it works in prison, right? Most people plead innocence no matter what? Still – given what happened to his godfather, Harry wasn't about to instantly dismiss their claims to innocence.

From what he could tell, one of them had been more of a political enemy and was toss into Azkaban on a collection of technicalities in order to get rid of him. The man seemed intelligent and had potential.

Finally Harry found himself with no one left to speak with and looked across the room to find Narcissa sitting in a chair beside her sister's bed, reading a book. Harry closed his notebook and tucked it under his arm before calmly striding across the room and coming to a stop at the side of Bellatrix's bed, opposite where Narcissa was currently sitting. She looked up at the movement with slightly wide eyes for a moment before schooling her expression and bowing her head.

"My Lord," she spoke softly.

He

still

was not used to that...

"Lady Malfoy," he replied with a slight incline of his head before looking down at the unconscious witch. "How is your sister?"

"The healer has her in a medically induced sleep so that the potions can heal her body faster," Narcissa said while sitting primly in her chair.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "We are working on recruiting a wizard who specializes in mind healing and has experience with rehabilitating prisoners who have had to spend a few years in Azkaban. It's not quite the same as the considerable duration that your sister has been exposed to the dementors, but he will hopefully help in speeding up the recovery of those who suffered the greatest for their loyalty."

"That is a relief to hear, my Lord. Thank you," Narcissa replied quietly bowing her head again.

"Your husband has served the Dark Lord well and he has shown me great respect even when I was considered little more than an apprentice. He performed his duties beyond expectations during the raid on Azkaban. The Dark Lord and I are very pleased with your family. You have shown great loyalty and have aided in the cause, even to the detriment of family. Your actions will not be forgotten or ignored."

She looked up with slightly wide eyes before allowing a small smile to grace her thin lips and bowing her head again. "Thank you for your praise, my Lord. You are most gracious."

"Will you be returning often to lend aid in the infirmary? I imagine you would like to keep an eye on your sister during her recovery?"

"I will return as often as I am able. Lucius is not always available to bring me –"

"I will key you into the wards. It's an inconvenience to both of you to rely on your husband's Mark to grant you entry," Harry said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Harry closed his eyes tilted his head to the side, reaching out with his magic to tap into the wards surrounding the abbey. Once he was sure he had a hold of it he opened his eyes to look at Narcissa and held his hand out in offering. "Give me your hand."

She stood quickly and made her way around the bed. She tentatively placed a shaking hand into Harry's. He touched her magic just enough to lock her signature into the wards so they would permit her entry.

"You are keyed in," he said simply as he dropped her hand.

"Thank you my Lord," she said a little breathless with surprise. Her eyes shone with curiosity and she clearly wanted to ask him a question but was refraining.

Harry smirked slightly. "You may speak freely," he said, prodding her to ask her question.

"I – I apologize, my Lord, I am simply surprised that you have access to the wards," she said, lowering her head to the end.

"This is one of my family homed, actually. However the Dark Lord has full control of the wards as well, as would be expected."

"Your home?" she echoed with obvious surprise.

"Yes," Harry replied simply.

"I see. Well, what I have seen of it so far is beautiful."

"I'm glad. I'll have to show you around sometime. I put a great deal of effort into preparing it when we decided to open it up and use it for our headquarters."

"That is most gracious of you, my Lord," she said, almost gushing and Harry barely held in a chuckle that wished to escape him.

Harry finally gave her a final nod and shifted his notebook again. "I will leave you to your vigil. I have things I must attend to."

"Of course. It was a pleasure speaking with you."

"The pleasure was all mine, I assure you," Harry said with a simple bow of his head before heading out of the Infirmary.

– – – – – – –

AN: And that's where I stopped. That was a few months ago... Again, I apologize, but this is just how it is. What follows are the notes/plans I had for where the story would go up until the Yule Holidays would begin.

– – – – – –

Umbridge sits in on classes. She's in on their History class and someone (Hermione, probably) asks her about the Break-in. Umbridge at first, insists that it has nothing to do with the matter at hand. Hermione persists. Asks about the possibility of Voldemort being behind the break-out. Umbridge becomes furious and absolutely refutes any possibility that the Dark Lord had returned.

She resumes her assessment of Binns. By the end of the week, Binns is given the boot.

–

Hagrid returns to school, rather battered. He has Gwarp with him.

–

Snape comes to the abbey for the first time. He's there for a meeting with the Dark Lord, but is about 40 minutes early. He encounters Lucius there and the two slip into one of the empty rooms to talk. Lucius exclaims his shock over discovering that the Dark Lord has taken Harris as his Consort. Snape wasn't present at that meeting, so he hadn't heard yet and is

shocked

by this revelation.

He tells Lucius what Dumbledore had told him about having encountered the Dark Lord with Harris in a compromising situation, and that was why Snape had known about it before. Also confides in Lucius that Dumbledore said he'd seen the Dark Lord looking young and very much

human

again.

Finally, it's time for Snape's meeting with the Dark Lord. He makes his way into the conference room, only to find himself walking into the room, already occupied by the Dark Lord and Evan Harris engaged in a rather heated kiss.

Snape turns to leave as soon as the shock wears off, but is stopped and called back in.

Voldemort informs Snape of the official change in Evan's status. He also tells him that he is allowed to inform Dumbledore of this revelation, since it would look odd if Dumbledore were to learn of it from some other source and Snape had not told him.

–

Encounter with Bellatrix at the Abbey.

I still haven't decided how this should go...

–

During dinner at Hogwarts the next day, Professor Lennox Crockett is introduced by Umbridge as their new History of Magic professor. The staff table doesn't look particularly pleased. Umbridge had a wide, toad-like smirk. The Slytherins look thrilled and whisper amongst themselves excitedly, while several congratulate Nero Crockett (7th year Slytherin). The student body as a whole doesn't seem to know exactly what to think, especially since everyone openly acknowledges that Binns was an utterly pathetic teacher.

–

First Quidditch match of the season. Ron fails epically and Slytherin is up by 120 points when Harry manages to catch the snitch.

–

Harry has discussion with Ginny. Apologizes for never asking her if she was okay after the chamber mess. Admits to her that when he was sorted, the hat wanted to put him in Slytherin.

–

Harry and Hermione go back to the Room of Requirement to work on the Hereditary Family Tree. The potion is done. They place it in a wide, rectangular vat and soak a large blank tapestry in the potion. It has to soak for twenty minutes and during that time, Harry and Hermione talk. Hermione fidgets a bit before confronting Harry on the fact that she knows some of the spells he and Professor Rowle have been teaching in the intermediate Defence Association club are Dark and asks him about that.

Harry unabashedly admits to knowing about it. Points out that in Charms they've been performing xxxxx spell, and it's a Light affinity spell, and Flitwick hasn't mentioned that to them at all. Nor is it mentioned in their books that it and others are affiliated spells.

Next Hermione asks Harry his opinion on the breakout, and on Voldemort's return. Prods Harry, pointing out that Harry has been distinctly avoiding talking about Voldemort all term so far. Harry hesitates and looks into Hermione's eyes. He slips into her mind as stealthily as he can manage and suddenly realizes that Hermione is fishing to see if she can speak to Harry openly about some things that have been nagging at her lately. She feels like Harry – as the only one of her friends who has shown any openness to the Dark – is the only one who

might

be open to what she's been thinking, but Harry being

Harry

has her questioning this.

Harry realizes that Krum's been doing his job nicely. Hermione has started to pay attention to some of the Dark Sect's reasons and motives behind their attempted revolt against the Light-run power. She desperately wants someone else to talk to and bounce ideas off of, but since Harry is against Voldemort, and Voldemort is the one who is basically leading the Dark, she's terrified of loosing her friend.

Harry pulls out and Hermione's eyes are wide and she looks a bit horrified. She realizes that he was probably in her head.

Harry gives her a reassuring smile, apologizes for intruding upon her privacy, but he had to be sure before he came clean. He admits to her that he's been questioning a lot of things lately, and admits that he too has come to come to understand and empathize with the Dark's motives.

She's relieved. Says she was so worried that she would lose him over this.

Finally they pull the tapestry out of the vat, hang it up to dry on a clothes line sort of thing. Harry casts a drying spell and then they begin a blood ritual to start the actual family tree forming. Hermione has to cut her palm with a ceremonial dagger and then wipe the blood off onto the tapestry. Next they chant in Latin and cast a final spell. The tree slowly begins to materialize on the tapestry, starting with Hermione's name at the very bottom, working it's way up through her mother's line, to her grandparents. Her grandfather was listed as a muggle, and grandmother was a squib.

Her brother was Buckley Pritchard. Buckley Pritchard's son is William Pritchard who is a Death Eater and who had a son named Graham Pritchard – who is a 3rd year Slytherin.

Harry laughs and exclaims that this explains why she's been doing so good with the Dark spells in their DA classes. Hermione doesn't seem to get it, Harry points out that the Prichards, Harkiss', Gamps, and Harpers (all listed in her tree) are

all

Dark pureblood families. He also points out to her that Graham Pritchard is a Slytherin at Hogwarts right now. He thinks he's a 2nd or 3rd year and mentions that he may have even met William Pritchard, although doesn't tell her where from.

Before they go, Harry copies a smaller version of the tapestry and takes it with him.

–

Harry gets a letter from Remus. He says he's been with one of the largest werewolf packs in Britain for the past couple months and hasn't been able to write before then. Tells Harry that he gave him a lot to think about when they talked back in August, and going back to the packs with a different viewpoint and the willingness to be open and accepting about what and who he is has made a world of difference.

Says he still doesn't know what to think about the war, but has come to terms with the fact that Dumbledore is not truly what he seems to be, and that he is simply not willing to blindly follow him any longer. He wants to fight for the rights of those like him, and knows that he simply cannot do that if he sides with the Light. At the same time, he doesn't approve of Voldemort's tactics and violence, nor does he approve of Voldemort's alliance with Fenrir Grayback.

–

During next Intermediate Death Eater Training session at the Abbey, 'Even' observes William Pritchard. After a bit, he takes the man aside. Tells him that one of Rowle's students at Hogwarts had been showing a lot of promise in the Dark Arts, however she was a "muggleborn". A hereditary test was conducted recently and it turned out that she was related to the Pritchards. He shows Pritchard the shrunk-down copy of the tapestry. Pritchard seems torn between being curiously interested and being irked at the connection to a muggleborn. Evan points out that she's the top in her year and is considered one of the most powerful young witches at Hogwarts, not to mention the promise she's shown in the Dark Arts. Pritchard seems to puff up a bit at that, and then asks why he's being told all this.

Evan informs him that it is the Dark Lord's goal to try and grow their base among the wizarding youth to reduce the counter force after they take over the Ministry. They have the Slytherin's easy, but gaining support among the other houses is much harder; especially the Gryffindors. Granger is a Gryffindor, and growing their base there would be beneficial.

Pritchard seems to remember something at that point and suddenly recalls that he'd heard the girl's name before. That she was described as being one of Harry Potter's friends. Evan just smirks.

He tells Pritchard that if the girl makes the effort to contact him that he should reply kindly and try to bring her openly into his family. That he should also inform his son to offer the girl a hand of friendship should he be approached. Tells Pritchard that Rowle is going to encourage her to contact him, so it should happen sometime in the near future.

Pritchard agrees.

–

The next day during Breakfast, Hermione gasps when she gets the Daily Prophet and shows it to Harry. It reports that Sirius Black was spotted by Aurors, a chase, and small battle ensued but Black escaped. The reporter makes a bit of a fuss about the Ministry's incompetency and their inability to apprehend the escaped criminals. The news unnerves Harry and he decides to use the mirror to contact Sirius again as soon as possible, asking again that the man come to stay in his house.

About 10 minutes later, Snape comes over, sneers disdainfully down at Harry and makes some sort of disparaging remark, while subtly slipping him a piece of parchment. Harry reads it and the note says that Dumbledore did not currently have the ring on his finger.

Harry makes an excuse and leaves the breakfast table. He makes a dash for Dumbledore's office. Before getting there, he casts the Parselmagic phase shift spell and walks right through the gargoyle and climbs up the staircase, through the door, and begins frantically searching the office.

After being in there for only a minute, he suddenly hears the sound of the spiral staircase shifting and in walks Dumbledore andBill Weasley. He stays phased and waits. Dumbledore tells Bill that he is working on a very important project that may decide the fate of the Light in the inevitable conflict. He tells Bill that he cannot directly influence Bill in this matter, but that there is a book on his desk that he thinks the young wizard might find enlightening. It takes Bill a bit to catch on, but he eventually takes the book while Dumbledore is pointedly looking at the wall, ignoring him.

Before Bill leaves Dumbledore asks for his opinion on a matter that the curse breaker might have some knowledge on. Bill seems shocked that Dumbledore could possibly need to ask

him

for magical knowledge and says he'll help in any way he can.

Dumbledore says that he has an object that can only be destroyed by a few rare things, one being fiendfyre, the other being basilisk venom. Fiendfyre would completely destroy the object though, and he was hoping for it to remain mostly in tact. The problem was that his attempts to acquire any basilisk venom had thus far failed. He had recently realized, however, that he had a goblin-made weapon that had come in contact with basilisk venom at one point.

He said to Bill that it was his understanding that Goblin-made weapons absorbed the magical attributes of any powerful substance they into contact with, so, theoretically, the sword would have taken on the magical properties of basilisk venom. He asks if Bill would agree that the sword might now be capable of destroying the curse without physically destroying the object?

Bill looks thoughtful but finally agrees that that sounds right and if the cursed object would normally only be destroyed by basilisk venom, a goblin-made weapon that had come into contact with basilisk venom should be able to destroy the curse as well.

Dumbledore thanks him for his opinion and for his time and tells him farewell. He walks Bill out to the door and waits for a moment until you could hear the sound of the gargoyle at the base of the stairs moving back into place.

Harry is still there, phased, and watches in horror as Dumbledore takes the ring out of the warded desk drawer, sets it on top of his desk and then goes over and removes Gryffindor's sword from a case on the wall. He's about to take the sword to the ring when a small dinging alarm sounds and Dumbledore looks up. He frowns and sets the sword down on the desk and hurriedly leaves his office. Harry quickly unphases, runs over and grabs the ring and leaves the fake behind. He rephases and runs from the office. -Something will probably need to be done about the paintings witnessing this?-

In the hall outside Dumbledore's office, Peeves is running wild, tossing dung bombs left and right and crashing through the rows of armor lining the walls, causing a tremendous ruckus.

As Harry tries to make his way down the hall through all the insanity, he senses

himself

in the hall. He gets dizzy for a second before quickly running into a deserted classroom and waiting for a few minutes. He realizes that he must have used his time-turner to create a distraction that lured Dumbledore out of his office.

Harry wonders again why Dumbledore was so insistent on not destroying the ring, but only the horcrux, and wonders just

whatthe ring really was. As far as Tom knew, it was just a family heirloom, although in the memory Dumbledore had shown him, Marvolo Gaunt had said it was from the 'Peverell' family. He takes the ring back to Tom.

He also tells Tom about Dumbledore not-so-subtly leaving a book for Bill Weasley. Voldemort looks thoughtful and slightly angry. Mutters about Dumbledore 'cheating'. Harry asks Tom to explain; Tom tells Harry about how one goes about becoming a Lord of magic. That there are measures in place to try and prevent a Lord from choosing his successor. That Dumbledore is clearly trying to bypass them by providing certain wizards he deems appropriate with the information they would need to follow the path. He suspects that Dumbledore has probably approached several different wizards and given them all the same information since, in the end, it is Magic that deems who is and who is not acceptable, any applicants will have to face the trails, and many will likely be rejected. He suspects that Dumbledore fears there being no Light Lord in place during the war since his death is impending. Normally there are periods of time between Lords, but Dumbledore is clearly trying to circumvent the natural flow of things.

–

Harry tries to use the mirror to contact Sirius but he doesn't answer it. Harry tries several more times and gets rather worried. He sends a letter off, hoping that maybe Hedwig can get a hold of Sirius. He sends a small bottle cap that he makes into a portkey. Tells Sirius in the letter that the Portkey will take him to a warded room within Mohrda Abbey.

–

Harry talks Hermione into approaching Graham Pritchard, asking him to accompany her to Hogsmeade, the last Hogsmeade weekend before the winter holidays. She comes back to Harry later, excited, telling him that Graham was really nice and agreed to go to Hogsmeade with her so they could talk.

Afterwards Hermione gets together with Harry and is really excited about her talk with Graham. Says she's going to write to Graham's father, William and that he's going to give her some information on their family history. Harry says he's happy for her.

–

Meeting with a DE from Ministry – Department of Mysteries? He informs Voldemort that the Order seems to be setting guards to watch/observe Dept of Mysteries. One man was apprehended trying to break into the hall of prophecy. He's in St. Mungos.

Hall of Prophecy bit sparks Tom and Harry's curiosity. Asks for further details.

Afterwards, they wonder why Dumbledore would bother trying to protect the prophecy there when Tom has already told the man that he knows that the prophecy is fake. They realize/wonder if perhaps the copy that's held at the Ministry is a copy of the

real

prophecy.

–

Harry is standing in a corridor looking over the map when the Twins come up to him. They tell him that they want to talk with him about something important in private.

They go to an empty classroom and Harry wards it for privacy.

The twins tell Harry that they've been doing a lot of thinking about what Harry told them all at Grimmauld Place back at the end of August. That they think that Dumbledore might have done that subliminal message implanting thing to them at some point. That they think it might have been Dumbledore' mind-manipulations that made them hand the marauder's map over to Harry back in his 3rd year. When he needed to sneak out of the castle they could have simply told him where the secret passages were. They had no reason, and honestly, no desire, to part with the map. Now that they know that it belonged to Harry's dad and his friends, they admit that it's rightfully Harry's and don't want it back – they're just saying. At the time, they had no logical reason for handing it over and it's something that's been bothering them a bit for a while.

–

Early December, Umbridge returns for another round of 'class observations' and one week before the end of term she announces that Trelawney is fired and that after 1st term exams are complete, the Divination teacher will be replaced. Dumbledore protects Trelawney from getting kicked out of the castle and allows her to remain living in the castle. He brings in Firenze to teach Divination before the Ministry had the opportunity to appoint someone of their own choosing.

–

December 19th – one day before the end of term – Harry gets another summons from Dumbledore. Dumbledore brings up that Harry's name isn't down for those staying at the castle that year and asks Harry where he's planning to spend his holidays. Harry tells him that he'll be staying with Nick and he's already gotten permission from the Dursley's.

Dumbledore asks Harry if he would be willing to stay at Grimmauld Place instead, and even offers to allow Nick to come as well. Harry thanks him for the offer, but says he would much rather just stay at Nick's home.

Dumbledore pushes and finally Harry just cuts him off and flat refuses.

Dumbledore sighs heavily but gives in and asks Harry if he would be willing to join him for another trip into the pensieve. Harry agrees and they watch the memory of Tom Riddle at age 11 when Dumbledore came to visit him at the orphanage, informing him that he was a wizard.

Harry is entranced with observing Tom's younger self, but manages to refrain from displaying it outwardly.

–

First day of the winter holidays, Harry and all his friends get into the carriages, ride them down to Hogsmeade, and board the Hogwarts Express. On the train, Harry and Hermione have to do prefect duty first. Afterwards, they return to the compartment to find Ron looking bored while Ginny talks enthusiastically with a serene Luna Lovegood.

–

'Nick' is waiting for Harry at King's Cross. After he says goodbye to his friends, Nick side-along apparates Harry for appearances sake, and the two return to Mohrda Abbey.

–

the next day Sirius portkeys in. He's battered and it turns out he's just had another close-call with some aurors. Harry summons one of the DE's that's a skilled healer who works at St. Mungos. The woman is a bit shocked to see Sirius Black there since the DE's were all under the impression that the man hadn't actually been one of them, but quickly sets to work.