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Chapter Text

It was a well-known fact to all his friends that Eridan Ampora believed in magic. He was a reclusive fellow, even to his moirail, shutting himself for days, maybe weeks, inside his giant warship hive, studying the magical arts. The only times he ever came out was the occasional lusus hunt for Feferi's lusus and the odd FLARP challenge from Vriska, but that became increasingly rare as the perigees passed. Other than that, he stayed in his hive, reading and hoping to somehow gain the ability to perform the magical arts.

At least, that's what everyone else thought.

Six sweep old Eridan carefully patters down the stairs of his hive, down to the depths that went beneath the ship itself and into the island it was beached on. The stone walls turned smooth as he descended, with only the white glow from the tip of Ahab's Crosshairs to guide him. Soon enough strange markings in an alien language started covering the walls, and lanterns that burned without oil cast a strange green glow on the young troll as he pushed onwards. The stairs then leveled out and Eridan was met with a large chamber of some sort, lit by lanterns with grey flames instead. The chamber was completely empty, sans one this that stood out.

A stone archway with a tattered veil stood in the center of the large, echoing chamber. Words in the same alien language were etched in the grey stone of the archway. While the arch's presence in an underground cavern was strange enough, Eridan could also make out whispers from the other side, though he did not know what they were saying. While Eridan could walk around the archway, the whispers would only come from one side. He had put his hand in from the front and realized that it did not go to the other side, but when he reached from the other way it did. But this didn't bother the seadweller in the slightest. Instead, he uncapchalogged his husktop and began to type out more notes as he inspected it. Eridan had been doing this since he found it half a sweep ago, and was trying to learn what the inscriptions actually meant.

He could only translate the word 'Magic', which was written on the walls many times and the arch only once. Though the aliens' method of writing was peculiar, when he realized to pattern, as instead of the Alternian way of writing letter from right to left and from the bottom up, the alien inscriptions were written from right to left and top to bottom. Eridan just shook his head at these strange alien antics and continued typing. After a while he got up to stretch his cramped legs and headed to the back of the chamber.

Pushing in a brick, the violet blooded troll stood back as a portion of the wall swung open to reveal a secret room. This room was smaller, the size of a large respiteblock, but held a few chairs. Each chair was occupied by a skeleton, clothed in colored robes. Eridan had found them lying in the chamber, and decided to put them in the small room to study them. They were definitely aliens, as although they were bipedal, like trolls, their bones were much denser, but not as strong. Each hand contained four fingers and an opposable thumb, in comparison to a troll's three fingers and thumb. Their teeth were square (and, unlike the seadwellers, had only one row), and their claws were thin and flimsy. The skulls were devoid of horns, which frightened Eridan a little, how were they to sense their surroundings with only five senses? Eridan had fun typing down these facts, and found even more interesting things in the robe pockets of these aliens.

Each alien had a wooden stick that could only be a wand, and the small troll relished in studying them, and in some pockets he even found alien scrawling on strange, thick paper that reminded him of Lusus hide. Glass phials of different shapes and sizes, holding strange liquids, and feathery quills of varying color and size were all gathered and put on the shelves that Eridan had put up to hold these items. During his inquisitive exploring, Eridan had also realized that some pockets were larger on the inside when he pulled out what looked like a stylized black cleaning branch that held alien letters and numbers. The cleaning branch actually floated, and the troll accidentally flew around the chamber when he was holding it. Eridan was also fond of the rings that he found in the robe pockets, which he took to wearing himself. Putting them on was interesting, as he felt the rings 'bond' to him (if that made any sense, which it really didn't, thought Eridan) when he did so.

Then there was the stone with a few inscriptions that didn't match the alien's writing pattern. They looked to be troll identification symbols, and Eridan was a little spooked as he found the zig-zag lines of his own identification symbol. He didn't really know what it did, so it sat on its own little shelf for further research. There was also a vial that Eridan knew immediately was blood, but it was strange. It was a lighter color of the rust bloods, almost scarlet, and surely not a color he'd ever seen as blood before, sans the legendary Sufferer. There was also the plethora of gold, solver, and bronze coins that were in small beast skin pouches. The troll had moved them, piled high, into his hive, but he was thinking of just capchalogging the lot, because his free space was dwindling.

All these items pulsed with an energy Eridan could only think was Magic. It made his heart leap at the thought. He had tried to use the wands that he found, but he accidentally blew up a chair the first time he waved one and therefore decided that it was a bad idea. After that he tore a few of the wands apart, dissecting them and found that they all had strange objects in the middle. One had an orange, fiery feather, two had a silver hair and another had a heartstring. It was the heartstring that blew up on him, so he usually kept his distance on that one. So Eridan tried to make his own, using the woods from his home planet and whittling them to a similar likeness, trying the objects out in the hollow centers, but to no avail. All he ended up with was a pile of wands that didn't work.

Now, Eridan patted one of the skulls, and traced his finger on one of the shelves. He wrapped his scarf (deep blue and light blue/silver, it actually was in one of the alien's pockets, he treasured it dearly) a little tighter around himself. Taking one of the wands that were still left intact, he cautiously waved it a little. One of the skeleton's chairs lost another leg and Eridan groaned. Sighing, he placed it back on the shelf, dejected. He walked out of the room, closing the wall and recapchalogged his husktop. Picking up Ahab's Crosshairs, Eridan made his way back to his hive, vowing to come back tomorrow. Once he got back to his respiteblock, Eridan capchalogged Ahab's Crosshairs, and curled up in a violet plush chair with a good military history textbook.

That was, until a pinging noise disrupted him. Rolling his eyes, Eridan took out his husktop and opened Trollian.

Oh did that Serket get on his nerves. He hated her, and he was starting to see that it wasn't the 'waxing black' he thought it was. No, Eridan was starting to understand that the hate that gripped his heart was just annoyance at such a self-centered, self-absorbed troll who bothered people for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Seahorsedad seemed to pick up on his charge's displeasure, and nuzzled his custodian. Eridan gave his lusus a sigh and patted the floating white seahorse on the head, scratching behind the fins to placate him.

Attempting to do something productive, the violet blooded seadweller started to sort his respiteblock out. Books went back onto the shelves, clothes were folded and put away, and maps were rolled up and placed back where they belonged. There was still, however, no room. Eridan growled at the piles of coins, and decided that if he was going to keep them around, might as well be in the smallest space possible. So, he took the bottomless hide pouch from his desk drawer and started to fill the bag with the offending currency. Soon enough the bag still felt as light as before and his room had a ton of extra space. Eridan grinned to himself as his lusus just sighed and shook his head. Shaking the bag, Eridan frowned. He reached into the bag and it felt empty. Thinking to himself about getting the coins out, he suddenly felt the presence of the coins around his fingers. His eyes narrowed, and thought of only three coins, one of each metal. He pulled his hand back and lo and behold, that's what he had in his hand.

A maniacal grin spread across Eridan's face as he practically flew down the stairs back to the room behind the chamber, which he had dubbed 'the Lab', with his exasperated lusus trailing behind.

Meanwhile, on the true 'other side' of the archway, a battle was being fought. This was in a place that didn't even share the same universe, never mind the same galaxy. No, this battle was taking place in a spiral galaxy, on a small blue and green planet the inhabitants called Earth. Specifically, it was taking place in a continent called Europe, in a country called England, underneath the place the magical population of Britain called the Ministry of Magic, inside the Department of Mysteries.

Curses were flying from every which way as the Death Eaters fought the Order of the Phoenix, which had been tipped off by Severus Snape. Harry Potter was clutching a sphere with mist inside, trying to defend himself from Lucius Malfoy. The long haired blond pureblood was knocked off his feet by a well-placed Stunner by Sirius Black, whom had once again jumped in just in time. Harry grinned at his godfather, and together they flung Stunners and jinxes that were trying to compete with Cruciatus and Killing curses. What they didn't see happening was that Bellatrix Lestrange had herded the dog animagus in front of the Veil, so when Harry tried to yell out to Sirius, it was too late. All they could do was watch Sirius fall through the Veil, with Bellatrix cackling as she thought her cousin was now dead.

Chapter Text

It was always so fascinating, these aliens. But even Eridan had to admit, while he was a researcher, he was not an archeologist. That was Megido's department, and he didn't want to reveal his little secret just yet. Was it selfish? Of course, but he knew that any troll would probably destroy half the items in his Lab simply because they didn't look practical. Sitting at the desk, which was situated just under some shelves on the left hand side of the Lab, Eridan once again inspected the stone that held his identification symbol, along with some others, wondering what its purpose was. Tapping it did nothing, neither did waving it, and Eridan was NOT going to try those wands again. Frustrated, he glared at the skeletons that were still sitting in their chairs. Because of his limited knowledge of the alien language, he had hit a wall with his research.

But what he did deduce with his research intrigued him to no end. Apparently the arch was built long before transportalizers were invented, so the arch seemed to be the ancient variant of it. Dualscar had traveled to a far-off planet somewhere, and they had established a trading agreement. The arch was built with both ancient Alternian technology and this odd alien magic. Eridan had found that Dualscar's journal hinted at this, but to keep confidentiality, was never explicitly described. This rather irked the young seadweller, because Dualscar never actually described the aliens. All that was ever said about them was that they were "short land-dwelling fleshbags" or the odd "taller annoying land-dwelling fleshbags". What Eridan could gather was that the shorter variety spoke a basterdised version of Alternian, but to Eridan's chagrin none of the alien skeletons he had wrote in this language.

Eridan let out a small sigh. All he needed was a live sample. He needed to somehow procure a living version of these fleshy aliens, but how on Alternia and her two moons is he going to manage that?

"Come on, you can do better than that!"

Yes, Sirius knew he was in a really bad situation at the moment. Yes, he knew that he was being a cocky Gryffindor. Yes, he knew that his cousin, who was glaring at him in anger, was undeniably insane. The question is, did Sirius care.

The answer is a resounding NOPE. However, what Sirius probably didn't realize was that he was standing right in front of the Veil. If he had known this, then he probably wouldn't have been so brave.

Because when Sirius was a young auror, he was given a case of all the men and women who had ever fallen in. Every single one of them walked in with their wand in hand and different objects that could lead them back to the Department of Mysteries. None had ever come out. They tried yelling, summoning, throwing in ropes but to no avail. Nobody ever stepped out and their voices never penetrated the Veil.

The Unspeakables had a different project, however. They had realized long ago that the Veil had strange markings in an unknown runic design that none of them had ever seen the likes of. The closest they got to a match was Gobbledygook, the language of the Goblins, but even then, there wasn't much to go by. Even with all their research, they couldn't figure out what the Veil is or where it leads. All they knew was, once you go in, you never come out. Many have speculated that the Veil is the barrier between life and death. This turned out to be the soundest theory, so it was widely accepted as the truth by most wizards, including Sirius Black and Bellatrix Lestrange.

So it was only when he was hit by a Disarming Spell of all things, because Bellatrix knew all he needed was a little push and he'd be gone forever, did Sirius Black show any sign of horror and surprise. He felt himself fall into the Veil as his cousin cackled in mad glee and Harry screamed his name. He gripped his wand tighter, not ready for Death, he won't go down without a fight.

There it was. The slight change in the air, the shift of energies, only felt by the small feeler hairs that are on a troll's horns. Like insects, a troll's horns act like an antennae, but instead of compensating for five senses, the horns can detect energy, aura, emotion, and basic intent. One would never be able to sneak up on a troll, nor would anyone be able to lie to a troll. The horns would pick up everything. What humans wish for in a sixth sense, the troll has. Which is why Eridan, who grew up with six senses, was horrified with the lack of horns, because they really are vital organs.

They detected the shift in magic as the curtains on the arch suddenly fluttered violently, so when a large, peach skinned…thing…came tumbling out of the arch, Eridan was already there and waiting, with Ahab's Crosshairs out and ready for danger. For a brief moment, the troll had heard cackling, and someone screaming out the word Sirius, before this creature fell into the chamber. Cautious violet eyes watched as the creature stood up, and it made a weak attempt to look around. As it did so, Eridan scanned its features.

This creature did fit the "fleshbag" moniker, as it has this light pink squishy looking skin that seemed to have no basic exoskeleton and, Eridan noted in horror, it lacked any sort of horn. Its ears were rounded at the top, which meant that it was a land-dweller, unlike the slightly folded point of a troll. Looking down at the hands, Eridan gleefully noticed the presence of five fingers, how fascinating! This was the live specimen he was looking for!

It was at this point that the alien turned toward the seadweller's direction, promptly widened its eyes (which were silver in the iris and the sclera was actually WHITE) and pulled a stick in his direction. Eridan's eyes widened. It was a wand! This alien was magical! However, his horns detected that this alien was on guard, and was ready to do harm. So the young violet blood flattened his earfins against his head and bared his teeth, growling. The alien seemed to note this, as well as the fact that there was indeed a VERY large gun pointed at his chest, and lowered his wand a fraction.

Eridan lowered his rifle a little, now just staring curiously at the alien facing him. It had to be an adult, and yet it looked rather scraggly, was it a stray? His earfins flared out again, and it seemed to intrigue the alien. At the current moment, both were at an impasse, neither wanting to lower their weapons in case the other struck them. Diplomacy was his only option at this point.

"If you put awway your wweapons I'll put awway mine."

The alien looked at him confused and now even more on guard, which made Eridan want to facepalm. Alien, right. The troll realized that there was a language barrier between them. Both figures stood there, not knowing what to do, until the seadweller gave a sigh. Looks like he'll have to take his chances. He capchalogged his rifle and put his palms up toward the alien, a universal signal for peace and ceasefire. The alien now dropped most of its weariness and relief pulsed around it. It put the wand up its sleeve and they both just stared at each other, at a loss for the next step.

Sirius honestly thought that he was done for when he was pushed through the Veil. Now he was very sure that he was alive, from the pain of the spell, but he was very confused. It seemed that while the Veil did not lead to the afterlife, it did lead SOMEWHERE. He stood up and scanned his surroundings, noting that he was in a chamber of some sort. As Sirius was about to explore, he turned to his other side to come face to face with a creature that was pointing a large blue object at his face, the tip glowing a brilliant white. He could actually feel the compressed energy flowing in the object, and if it were released…Sirius drew his wand.

This was apparently the wrong thing to do, because the creature just got agitated and growled at him and oh Merlin what sharp teeth it had. He looked at the creature, then at the gun, and realized that being a Gryffindor at this particular moment would not be a good idea at ALL. He lowered his wand and it lowered its…energy thing. It stared at him as if he were some animal to be studied, and let out a series of growls and clicks and purrs. Oh Merlin what did it just say. The creature actually rolled its eyes at him, before its gun suddenly DISAPPEARED INTO THIN AIR and it raised its hands in peace. Sirius let out a sigh of relief and put his wand back in his holster.

He took this time to study the creature, which honestly creeped him out a little bit. Because while it was most definitely NOT human, it was wearing muggle attire. A purple cape with a large cowl flowed around a black longsleeve that for some reason had a violet Aquarius symbol on it, and the black and blue striped pants reminded him of one of those muggle pirate movies that Lily once exposed them to, (because that's what a Marauder was, of course) and violet and blue sneakers. Part of its wavy raven colored hair was dyed violet, and it was brushed in a way so that it took on a lightning shape. The scarf that it had wrapped around its necked was horrifyingly like the Ravenclaw scarf, which briefly made Sirius wonder where on Earth it got that from. A pair of strangely shaped glassed were perched on the bridge of the creatures nose, and were it only for the attire, Sirius would have thought it was a muggle with weird fashion tastes, but the creature was far from human.

It was covered in grey skin that was far too smooth, as if it had an extra layer on top, and Sirius realized that it reminded him of the chitin exoskeleton of an insect. His eyes travelled to the creature's ears, which were actually…fins? Was it some sort of mermaid? Unnaturally glowing violet irises stared at him; the whites of its eyes were some sort of yellow that had a soft glow on its own. Black lips reminded him once again of those pesky merpeople that dwelled in the Hogwarts lake, and when the creature blinked he caught the almost imperceptible delayed shift that signaled the fact that this thing had two eyelids. A large pair of lightning shaped horns that had the color scheme of candy corn (or at least, close enough) grew from the top of its head. The creature had honest to Merlin claws, which were slightly curved and very, very sharp. It was the claws that made Sirius note the lack of a pinky on either hand. He also noted the rings, and he had the nagging feeling that he recognized some of them, but he couldn't pinpoint how.

"What are you?" he said, unknowingly.

A small trill came from the creature's lips, and it opened its mouth to say something in its weird language.

"I can't understand you. Wwe'll havve to wwork communication out some other wway."

Since Sirius had no idea what the creature was saying, all he could notice was that it had two rows of very sharp teeth. His eyes widened at that, and could only groan at the fact that he didn't know whether or not the creature wanted to kill him or not. Neither seemed to understand the other's language, so what was he supposed to do? It was then that Lily's science fiction movies popped into mind. He licked his lips, thinking. Well, why not? He doesn't really have much to lose…

Sirius put up his right hand, splitting his fingers into two sides. He then pointed to himself.

"Sirius."

The creature tilted its head, before carefully attempting the mimic the gesture. It then pointed to itself.

"Eridan."

Eridan. So that's the creature's name? Sirius processed this name before slowly reaching his hand out to it.

"Hello."

Eridan looked at the hand, then at Sirius, then back at the hand. It licked its lips in what Sirius hoped was nervousness (long violet tongue, oh was Sirius creeped out), and shook his hand.

"Greetins."

Sirius hoped Eridan said hello as well.

So what the voice screamed earlier was this alien's name. Sirius. Fascinating. Perhaps there was still some hope in learning more about this creature, and why it was here. At this thought, Eridan glanced at the arch, only to realize that the archway had suddenly become solid. Without any warning, he walked over to the archway, feeling the closed stone curtains. The symbols around the archway seemed to glow a little, but it fizzed out for some reason.

Sirius had followed after, and was now staring at the closed arch, its eyes looking as if it were having some sort of mental breakdown.

"…Sirius?"

Sirius was currently having a mental breakdown.

The Veil was closed, the curtains had closed and had turned to stone. What was worse, is that Eridan's reaction to this fact meant that it had no idea what was going on either. That's when Sirius noticed the engraving on the arch.

Department of Mysteries, Britain's Ministry of Magic, Earth

Sirius didn't know what was worse, the fact that the words were in English and clearly stated that it KNEW where it lead to (which in turn means the inscriptions on the other side of the Veil must be in Eridan's language) or the fact that it implies that Sirius was not, in fact, on Earth anymore. Somehow the Veil lead to another planet altogether, and that scared Sirius. What sort of magic was capable of this?

How could he get back home?

"…Sirius?"

Hearing his name, the dog animagus jumped up, and snapped his head toward the speaker. It was Eridan, who was looking down at its feet. Sirius saw the worried expression on its face, and he walked up to the creature. It was at that moment when Sirius stood towering over the creature did he realize how YOUNG Eridan was. It could only be around thirteen, and Eridan's mannerisms briefly reminded Sirius of Harry.

Harry…

He was probably freaking out back at home, and everybody probably thought he was dead. Clenching his fists, Sirius closed his eyes. No, he was getting out of here, and he's pretty sure Eridan would help him with that. Speaking of which, the creature was tugging his sleeve. When he looked down, Eridan pulled a little harder, backing up, before letting go and walking toward one end of the large chamber. A brick on the wall was pushed in to reveal another room, and when Sirius took a look inside, his jaw dropped in horror.

Four wizard skeletons were draped onto chairs, long ago wasted away in this chamber, probably. Eridan must have discovered them like this, but it was still frightening to see corpses just lying around like this. Another tug on his sleeve by Eridan directed him toward the shelves that lined the walls. Potions, wands, quills, parchments, all which must have come from the robe pockets of these dead wizards, were place in a systematic order along the shared space. With a nod from Eridan, Sirius investigated what the creature had looted (well not really, these must have been dead for a long time, he shivered at that. The picture of these people dying of starvation because there was no exit horrified him) and realized that the parchment had writing on it.

Carefully he took one of the scraps down, and began to read. It was the records of an Unspeakable, who was investigating the Veil. At first it was formal, but it became more frenzied as the wizard realized that there was no exit, and that he could not Apparate. It ended with the wizard saying that nobody should ever come through the Veil, as it must have been some sort of torture device. Sirius read through another one, which was actually a witch, whose parchment contained a will, stating that she had no next of kin and therefore whoever finds this keeps all of her belongings. He paled when he saw that the signature read 'Heidi Ravenclaw" and glanced at Eridan, who was sitting in a muggle wheelie chair with its elbows on its knees and its hands tucked beneath its chin. It was then that he noticed the Ravenclaw ring on Eridan's finger, and looked at the scarf around its neck, and put the three pieces together.

Groaning internally, he went through the other parchments which were a similar mix of the first letter and the will. Seeing nothing more of help, Sirius put them back on the shelf, knocking over a stone that was in the space next to it. This made Sirius freeze, and picked up the small read stone. It was engraved with many runes, and pulsed with stored magic. Recognizing it, the Black grinned. He turned around to face Eridan, who was still watching him, and held up the stone. This only made Eridan tilt his head in confusion, before the violet eyes widened as Sirius pulled out his wand and tapped the stone, muttering an incantation under his breath. The stone glowed a little, before changing color from red to blue. Sirius grinned as he placed the stone in the crevice of his ear. This stone was a godsend.

Now it was Eridan's turn to be confused. What had Sirius done to the stone? Why was it blue? Why was it in its ear? It was then that Sirius spoke in his alien language, and Eridan sighed exasperatedly.

"Brilliant."

"Look, neither of us can understand the other besides our names. Sayin anythin in your alien language is not really goin to help much."

To Eridan's surprise, Sirius chuckled, and started laughing before taking the stone out of his ear (with the voice and the laugh, Eridan supposed Sirius was a male). He then made to give it to Eridan, and motioned for him to put it in the crevice of his earfin. Eridan complied with one eyebrow raised high.

"I don't see how this helps."

Sirius moved to the earfin that had the stone in it, and spoke.

"Do you understand me now?"

Eridan gave a yelp and jumped back and stared at Sirius in shock. The alien repeated himself again.

"Do…you…understand…me…now?"

Eridan let the words, Alternian in the earfin with the stone and Sirius's native tongue in the other, and their implications sink in for a moment. The stone could translate foreign speech, which was very useful, but only one of them could use it at a time. Since Eridan had already been studying the alien language for a while, it would be easier for him to pick up on the alien language instead of Sirius trying to learn Alternian. Having a near-photographic memory helps in this case, even if Serket hated the fact that she couldn't dupe him twice the same way.

"Und…er…stand…you…noww…" Eridan articulated, hoping those were the right pronunciations.

Sirius blinked once, twice.

"Say that again?"

"Again…Understand you noww. Sirius." Yep, Eridan just spoke English.

Sirius gave the boy (Eridan sounds like a boy…right?, he thought) a large grin.

"Wow kiddo, you learn fast!"

Eridan gave him a sharp-toothed smile in return.

"This will make things SO much easier! Man I love magic!" Sirius said, pumping a fist into the air, before frowning. Did he break the Statute of Secrecy? Is that even possible here? Why is he worrying?

"Sirius…?" Eridan asked quietly, before the animagus put both hands on the kid's shoulders.

"Did you know about magic? Before me? Hell, do you even count in the Statute of Secrecy?"

"I…knoww… about… magic. Before you." Sirius sighed in relief, before he noticed Eridan's nervous gaze.

"What's wrong, kiddo?"

"I…learn magic?" Sirius furrowed his brows at that, Eridan wanted to learn magic?

"You've never been taught magic?"

Eridan shook his head.

"Do you have magic?"

Eridan looked at him, confused. He then scrunched up his face, trying to think, before huffing and taking the stone out of his ear…fin…thing, then offered it back to Sirius who put it back in his ear.

"No one on Alternia, as I knoww of, does magic. In fact, I had to learn through books that it even existed. Most of the other trolls laugh at me because they believve it doesn't exist. I wwant to learn magic because it feels RIGHT. There's somethin about it that makes me feel…I belong…"

Sirius stared at Eridan, processing what the kid said. While his heart went out to the poor kid, if there really was no magic in his planet, it was going to be very tough telling the kid that he can't do magic. Other than that, Sirius had just gained more information about his whereabouts. The planet he was on is called Alternia, and the race Eridan belonged to are called…trolls? Sirius looked Eridan over, then thought back to the Mountain Trolls back on Earth. There was a very stark different between the two, and Eridan seemed incredibly intelligent, even for a youngster like him.

Which was why it was going to be painful telling Eridan that he wasn't magical, and if he was, there was no way Sirius would be able to tell the troll that for sure. Unless…

He picked the stone out of his ear and gave it to Eridan again, who popped it back into his ear/fin.

"Have you used any of those wands?"

Eridan grimaced.

"Wwands…" he then made a noise like an explosion, and pointed to one of the chair legs.

However, Sirius smiled. If Eridan was not magical, then the wands would have done nothing, but it was evident that the troll had at least some amount of magic in him.

"Then, kid, you can learn magic, if you choose to come back with me."

Eridan's fevered nodding made Sirius grin harder, but then the troll stopped.

"Come back…wwith you…" then pointed to the archway, which was still blocked.

"If we can find out how to get out, you'll help me, right?"

"I'll help you. Right."

Chapter Text

Learning fast on this alien language (of which the language is called 'English' and the alien race called 'humans') turned out to be a lifesaver when it came to talking with Sirius. The adult human had lots insight into Earth customs. Well, that's not entirely true, but he does know the customs of the very few that reside in a small area of Earth, which instead of having one ruling matriarch like Her Imperious Condescension over the entire planet, is split up into many different areas and is controlled by a patriarchal system. The minority of Magical Britain apparently don't like the rest of Britain because of 'impure blood'. Eridan had asked Sirius what blood color they had and he looked at the troll strangely before saying 'red'. When asked about the non-magicals (called muggles, according to Sirius) he was met with the same answer. Sirius also told the young troll that everyone had the same red blood color.

This horrified Eridan, who immediately began to explain the Hemospectrum and why that was more logical than the human's own prejudice that couldn't even be seen. Sirius was actually really curious about the Hemospectrum and sat through Eridan's entire lecture, held in his respiteblock (which Sirius told Eridan that on Earth it was called a 'bedroom') with many colorful charts and explanations. Somehow this lead to a discussion on blood color properties, which Eridan had studied extensively when he still played FLARP, and the scientific reasons why the Hemospectrum existed.

"You see, Sirius." Eridan started, as if he were teaching, "The higher you are in the Hemospectrum, genetically, the longer your avverage lifespan wwill be. My calculated lifespan, bein a vviolet blood, wwould be a minimum of a twenty-three thousand Alternian swweeps, wwhich, punchin in my convverter is about… fifty Earth millennia." Sirius whistled.

"So how old are you now then?"

"Six swweeps, wwhich is…" he looks at his converter, something he had punched in after asking Sirius how his race views time, "exactly thirteen human years."

"Ah, so I was right. If you went to Hogwarts, you'd be in your third year."

"Howw many years does one study at Hogwwarts?"

"Seven years. It's bloody amazing!"

"Really?" Eridan said, always excited about learning about a Magic School, and propped his arms on the desk table.

"Yeah... oh hey, my godson Harry should just be starting his fifth year. I'll introduce the two of you when we get back!"

"That sounds wwonderful."

Now that Eridan knew English fluently (honestly, the speed he picked it up at just using a Translation Stone was, well, inhuman), the troll's personality started to bleed into his words as the younger alien became comfortable with Sirius's presence. However, it gave the animagus something else to ponder over.

The way Eridan spoke and articulated his words sounded oddly familiar, but he couldn't put a finger on whom. Though, to be honest, the strange accent Eridan had made it more difficult to pin it down. But the way the troll sometimes slowly drawled out words for emphasis or his short bursts of dry sarcasm were making him rack his head because he knew that someone else behaved the same way. There were also the mannerisms, the way his cape billowed as he walked and the way he carried himself with aristocric ease, all pointed to someone but Sirius couldn't remember who. Oh well, he'll figure it out later, he thought to himself.

Eridan's bedroom (respiteblock?) was pretty big, and was filled with bookshelves with large tomes and huge maps of different areas surrounding his house (hive?). It was all a deep teal, but the wood seemed natural, uncolored, and nothing like the wood on Earth. Being on another planet altogether was really jarring, and he was grateful Eridan chose to pick up on English instead of pushing Sirius to learn Alternian. That would have been a nightmare, as Sirius was taught French at an early age but still could only say some really nasty curse words.

It was then that a giant floating white seahorse entered the room, causing Sirius to have to rub his eyes in order to make sure he was seeing that right. If it weren't for the fact that the thing was undoubtedly opaque and had a violet saddle and reigns, the Wizard could have mistaken it for a Patronus.

"...By the wway you're starin at Skyhorse, I assume humans don't havve Lusii?" Eridan drawled, a smirk on his face as Sirius realized his mouth was hanging wide open.

"What's a Lusii?"

"Wwell, Lusii is plural, Lusus is singular. All trolls havve a Lusus. They're alwways pure wwhite beasts that take care of a troll after the grub manages to pass all the trials of the breedin cavverns. Lusii are a troll's caretaker for life, and mine is Skyhorse ovver here."

"…So it's…your dad?"

"Wwhat, perchance, is a dad?"

"The…male that…created you."

"Wwhat?"

"Do you have parents?"

"Wwhat are parents?"

Oh Merlin, what had he gotten himself into now?

An hour or so had passed by as Sirius managed to explain that humans were a mammalian race that reproduced with one male and one female, who took care of their offspring. Sirius was very flustered by this for some reason, and was blushing bright red as he stammered through a human's mating process. Eridan scientifically responded in kind with troll reproduction which merely required troll genetic material, buckets, Imperial Drones and the Mother Grub. It was now the six sweep old's turn to get flustered when he explained the uses of the buckets, and Sirius loudly said that he would never see buckets the same way ever again before muttering about 'Obliviating' himself.

When Sirius asked about lunch, seeing the sun high in the sky, Eridan had to explain to Sirius that trolls were nocturnal but even then only went outside during certain hours. When asked why, the small troll took him to a window (which was heavily tinted) to see the effects that the Alternian Sun had on the planet. He saw Sirius shiver as they watched steam rise at a horrifying pace, one fish got too close to the surface and was cooked by the sun's harsh rays. Sirius actually gasped at this, and Eridan gave him a wry smirk.

"To be honest, the landdwwellers havve it wworse, they get Shadoww Droppers."

"What are those?"

"Trolls are nocturnal, yes? So wwe don't go outside. "

The ship's sensors picked up the fish's demise and a net was deployed with the fish inside.

"There are monsters on Alternia that are undead, and therefore can wwithstand the sun's rays. They cast a shadoww on the land, therefore are called Shadoww Droppers."

Eridan closed the curtains (even with the tint the sun was still painfully bright) and beckoned Sirius into the Meal Block (the kitchen, Sirius remarked) and handed him a nutrition plateau of fish and fruits and some grubmeat, which the man happily ate.

Sirius happily tucked into this alien food, which wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. While the meat and the fish tasted similar to Earth's, the fruits were a different story altogether. Some looked the same and tasted similar, but all were undoubtedly sweeter, as if someone added two spoonfuls of sugar into the flesh of it. The one he held in his hand which looked like a peach was juicy and tasted a lot like a peachy honey. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Eridan take some food out of his refrigerator (or thermal hull, according to the troll later) and sit down next to him. Sirius thought for a moment about what was wrong with this picture, and then put two and two together.

"Hey, if you're nocturnal, why aren't you asleep?"

Eridan looked at him and blinked twice, very slowly, before biting his lip.

"I don't sleep vvery wwell. As a seadwweller, I can understand the wwhispers of Gl'bgolyb, the Emissary to the Horrorterrors. Most trolls can't, so the sopor can calm them dowwn to the point of no nightmares. But seadwwellers hear her call, and her wwords speak of horrible, horrible thins."

Sirius stared at Eridan, and realized that he had dark rings under his eyes.

"Why don't you just kill it then?"

"Kill Gl'bgolyb? No, that would doom us all. She is the Empress and the Heiress's Lusus. The only wway to keep her wwhispers to a minimum is to feed her evvery two perigees or so. A perigee is about a human month, I believve. Wwhen her vvoice gets louder, all of us feel it. If it is too loud, her psychic Vvast Glub wwould kill all life on Alternia and her twwo Moons."

"So who feeds her then?"

Eridan actually gave a dry chuckle.

"Usually, it's the Heiress's job to feed her Lusus."

"So why doesn't she?"

"Because she refuses to hunt, to kill. You havve to understand, Gl'bgolyb feeds on Lusii, so she wwould havve to kill another troll's caretaker. She, of morals unknowwn to trollkind, refuses to keep that burden of knowwin that she had directly orphaned another troll. So she convvinced another troll hunt for her regularly."

Sirius paled. Killing parents to save the planet? This society sounded really messed up.

"So in order to keep the planet safe, someone has to become an orphan to feed a giant monster underneath the sea? Every two months?" Eridan nodded slowly.

"That sounds about right."

Sirius felt sick to his stomach. There was someone out there, killing a troll's parents (or at least a parent equivalent), for the good of the planet. He couldn't even imagine what this person would be like, having to live with that on their mind, or if they just didn't care. Suddenly a picture of Voldemort popped in his head, killing Harry's parents. Sirius clenched his fists, he knew that the circumstances were different here, but he couldn't get the image of a troll Voldemort going around and slaying Lusii. An image of a large, dark, looming figure with a crazed smile appeared in his head and made Sirius shiver.

"That's horrible! If your Heiress doesn't want to, then who's conscience is hard enough, or who's bloodthirsty and cruel enough, to do that?!"

Eridan stared at Sirius, eyes calculating. For a split second, his pupils became narrow, vertical slits, predatory, before saying one word.

"Me."

Sirius felt his blood freeze at that one word.

"I…what?"

"I take Skyhorse and I hunt Lusii every twwo perigees or so to make sure Fef's Lusus is fed. It is in my blood, my Legacy, my ancestor wwasn't called Orphaner Dualscar for nothin." He spoke in the same careful, drawling voice as before.

Sirius stared at Eridan. A kid was responsible for the safety of the entire planet, to which apparently had two moons that would add up to the mass of Earth?

"Why doesn't an adult handle this?"

"Alright," Eridan sighed, taking his glasses off and rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Let me explain to you how troll society wworks. This planet is entirely inhabited by young trolls only. Once a troll becomes an adult, they are wwhisked awway to the Empress's Army, nevver to return again. This leavves us to take care of Alternia, wwhich has a dyin sun and an ovverpopulation of trolls. On Alternia, it is normal to kill each other and their Lusus. Hell, Vvris feeds her spider Lusus other trolls. Wwe play FLARP, wwhich stands for Fatal Livve Action Role-Play and it is completely common for trolls to die playin. And then there's cullin, wwhere if you don't followw all of the Empress's rules, you die. It's common to see a hivve repurposed because the prevvious hivve dwweller wwas culled. The Imperial Drones are merciless. In fact, if they kneww I had you, I wwould be culled for not givvin you up to the authorities, wwere I not a vviolet blood."

He had said this very slowly, like talking to a child that didn't understand they were in trouble. It took Sirius a few minutes to process Eridan's words, before leaning back in his chair in shock.

"Wow. You trolls are bloody crazy." Eridan chuckled at this and got up to pour the two of them something to drink.

"Perhaps from a human vviewwpoint, but in the end wwe are merely different. I'm sure humans wwill behavve in wways I cannot comprehend either."

He offered the mug to Sirius, who took it gratefully and took a sip. It tasted like a very sweet, creamy tea, but held some strange nutty aftertaste as well.

"What is this, by the way?"

"Some grubjuice from the store, wwhy?"

"Never had anything like it, that's all."

"Fascinatin." Eridan drawled out, "You wwould think you wwere on another planet or somethin."

There it was again. That sense of familiarity that Sirius couldn't place. Eridan reminded him of someone but he couldn't think of whom.

There was one thing Eridan was sure both him and Sirius could agree on.

Aliens were weird.

Honestly, it was if he'd never seen a recupracoon in his life! After a while of strange babbling about how "weird it was to bathe in slime", Sirius eventually explained to Eridan that humans slept in things called 'beds'. Sirius then explained what it looked like, what it was made of, and why people slept in it. Eridan just blinked blankly, as it sounded strange to be comfortable unsubmerged in sopor slime. Eventually the troll ended up taking out some blankets usually used for feels jams (the wand pile was way too painful for that) and laid them out on a pile.

That's when Sirius did something that made Eridan jump.

One second the human was there, and then the next had a large black barkbeast where he once stood, which leapt into the pile of blankets. Eridan stood there, shocked at what he just saw. The barkbeast turned to Eridan and gave a sheepish look, before it transformed back into Sirius.

"Er… Sorry kid, forgot that you didn't know about animagi…"

It took Sirius five minutes to explain what an animagus was, and another hour to detail how to do it. Eridan was cautioned not to do it until they got to Hogwarts, but for now the troll marveled at how truly amazing magic could be. After that, Sirius settled into his blanket pile and Eridan attempted to get some sleep too. He would need all the energy to deal with the human as well as figure a way to reopen that arch, so he changed into his sleeping clothes, which were just a violet pair of swimming trunks, and climbed into his recupracoon for the day.

Sirius woke up groggily, not having any idea where he was. He realized he was lying on some nice, soft blankets as Padfoot, but that was about it. His memory still foggy, he got up, stretched, and decided to explore his surroundings. His nose then butted with something large and…purple? There were holes in this big thing, which seemed to contain some glowing green slime, and it had a large opening on the top. Confused, Padfoot stuck his nose inside the large opening, trying to find out what the thing was.

All of a sudden something rose out of the slime. It had large orange-yellow horns and yellow and violet eyes that held a pupil that was simply a vertical slit. The creature from the slime snarled, showing very sharp teeth. Padfoot yelped and fell to the floor belly up, and suddenly the memories of the day before caught up to him. Harry and the Dementor attack in Privet Drive, a pending trial for that, the Department of Mysteries, falling through the Veil, Alternia, Eridan… ERIDAN. Oh Merlin…

Eridan's pupils were now a normal circle shape, and had an amused smirk on his face and a raised eyebrow as he stared down at Sirius, his arms propped, folded, on the rim of the recupracoon. He was shaking slightly, until…

The troll burst into laughter. Sirius rolled his doggy eyes and got up back on all fours, shaking his head of the leftover slime that had fallen on his nose. This ended up with Padfoot sneezing, and that just made Eridan laugh even harder.

"So you don't only take the shape of a barkbeast, you behavve like on as wwell?"

Padfoot changed back into Sirius and stood up to stare eye to eye with the young troll. He wasn't laughing anymore, but Eridan still had that Merlin forsaken smirk on his face.

"I'll have you know that I was named after the star Sirius, also known as the Dog Star."

"That…just provves to me that you really are a wwild animal. Maybe I should start callin you 'Mutt' instead?"

Sirius groaned and rolled his eyes, a large smile on his face. Eridan blinked before climbing out of the recupracoon, and walking into his…Sirius forgot what trolls called the bathroom. Screw it, Eridan's learning Earth lingo anyway. The young seadweller called out behind him.

"You might wwant to decide wwhether or not you wwant to come wwith me today."

"Why? Where are you going?"

"Lusus huntin. If I'm goin to be awway for a wwhile, then I need to make sure Gl'bgolyb is fed before I go." Sirius grimaced.

"I…don't know…" Eridan walked back into his bedroom, fully dressed.

"You can ride Skyhorse wwith me and then you can see Alternia for yourself. I wwonder if it's any different to Earth… Plus you might evven meet my moirail."

"What's a moirail?"

Judging by the evil, razor-toothed smile Eridan was now sporting, he really shouldn't have asked.

Eridan learned one very interesting thing about humans.

They only considered the Matespriteship Quadrant as Romance. In fact, they didn't even have the complex quadrant romance system. Although there were situations where the quadrants could be used, it wasn't considered romance. Eridan had a really fun time explaining to Sirius of the Spade, the Diamond, and the Club, and the uses of all three. Sirius, for the most part, was actually really interested in what he had to say, the most interested he's ever been on one of his explanations.

"And so you have, what, a Kismesis and a Moirail?"

"Vvris isn't my Kismesis anymore. Wwe slowwly broke that off."

"Why? Didn't you hate each other?"

"I hate her guts, but to the point wwhere I wwould gladly feed her and her Lusus to Gl'bgolyb and laugh wwhile she dies. She's annoyin, bitchy, self-centered, megalomanic, and completely out for her owwn gain. In short and in your human slur - fuck no."

"And your Moirail?"

"Fef is the Heiress, wwhich is wwhy you'll probably be able to meet her today, if you wwant."

"Won't she, you know, cull me or something?"

"I believve she's more human-levvel compassionate than troll harshness, unlike her still livvin ancestor."

"Alright, I'll go then."

Sirius was used to flying on a broom, and if he could do that on Alternia, he would. Forgetting about its bloodthirsty, dominant, insect-based race and its messed up society and monsters, Alternia was… breathtakingly bizarre.

Since it was nighttime, the planet's two huge moons shone brilliantly beneath a grey sky, one a lime green and the other pink, and looking closely the pink moon had a small orb orbiting it as well. The clouds changed from shades of pink to shades of blue. Slowly the sky itself changed colors from its original grey to a blue he'd never seen on the sky on Earth to a beautiful purple. The land below had yellow-brown sand before they went deeper into the mainland, to the flat fields of the deepest jade he had ever seen. All sorts of strange buildings were scattered everywhere, all with different colors. Instead of having four-paned windows, each window had twelve panes. Most of the windows held different colored light, and he could see some of the white figures of the different Lusii below. Then Eridan took Skyhorse deep into the Alternian forests, and Sirius gasped in amazement. The grass was still the same green but the trees. The trees had bark that ranged from teal to sky blue and the leaves a deep magenta.

As Sirius marveled at this, Eridan had taken his rifle out of thin air and had begun searching for game. Suddenly they heard a rustle of leaves, and both people on the flying seahorse snapped their heads toward the sound. Sirius noticed Eridan's earfins had flattened once again, and his pupils had become narrow slits.

A large snake leaped from the trees towards them, jaws wide. Sirius noted it had four venomous fangs and three eyes, as well as three tails.

Blam.

Eridan fired his gun, and his aim was perfect. Sirius had to cover his eyes as the blinding white light embodied the actual tip to a diameter the size of Eridan's head and body, firing through the Lusus. Olive green blood poured from the large gaping fatal wound the snake Lusus now sported, before the entire body disappeared. Sirius looked at Eridan, wide eyed.

"I'll explain the capchalog modus later. For noww let's just finish this job." He said tiredly.

Two hours and five Lusii later, they were flying over the sea again. Sirius was now very glad he had not done anything to make Eridan think of firing that thing at his face when he first came through the Veil. He realized that it had only been around fourteen hours since he got to Alternia, but it seemed almost a lifetime ago. Grey clouds mingled with pitch black clouds over the deep blue ocean. At intervals, pink lighting would flash down into the sea. It was a thrill that Sirius took in as they weaved through the clouds until they got to what looked like an empty patch of calm sea. Suddenly all the hunted Lusii appeared out of thin air and fell into the sea, sending a wave upwards that they barely dodged.

"Feeeeeeef! I'vve got food for your Lusus!"

A few moments they were met with complete silence, with only the rolling waves. It was only after fifteen minutes had passed did something happen. Bubbles formed on the surface of the water, then a head popped out, then a torso, then feet, until Sirius saw a female troll that was riding a white seaHORSE Lusus, complete with front hooves, a whale's tail, and a bowtie in its mane. The troll had bushy brown hair not unlike Harry's booky friend, but a jet black like Eridan's. Her horns were a different shape too, they shot up straight and curved away from each other slightly. She wore a golden tiara with a fuchsia gem in the center and a white Pisces symbol inscribed in it, along with a gold choker and several loose necklaces of varying color. Fuchsia goggles were wrapped around fuchsia and orange eyes, which sparkled with mirth and life. Gold cuffs and bangles adorned her wrists and ankles, and she wore fuchsia swimming shoes. A black tank top with a fuchsia Pisces sign sat above a pink, green, and blue skirt. She had the same black lips and fins like Eridan, only now Sirius could see the gills that stood on either side of her neck. The female seadwelling troll smiled, her grin filled with sharp teeth and yet Sirius could tell it was just a friendly smile.

"Sirius, I wwould like you to meet my Moirail. This is Feferi Peixes, the Heiress to the Crowwn and the Keeper of Gl'bgolyb."

Chapter Text

The three of them had gone back to Eridan's hive, considering that Sirius couldn't breathe underwater and Feferi didn't want to accidentally drown the poor man within minutes of meeting him. Feferi was more than happy to comply and made herself at home as they sat in his respiteblock, plopping into one of his more cushiony chairs like she had so many times before, observing intently at Sirius's every move. Sirius was doing the same with unhidden amusement, and was muttering something about Feferi reminding him of a bookworm. Soon conversation started as both parties started firing questions. Eridan, being the only one to speak both English and Alternian, was stuck on translation duty.

"Hey Eridan, how does her hair say normal after she just came out of the water?"

")(ey -Eridan, w)(at is )(e? )(e doesn't )(ave any gills!"

"What did she just say? Oh, my wand? Sure, she can have a look…"

"O)( wow! I can't B-ELI-EV-E you were rig)(t about magic! You go buoy!"

Eventually Sirius took the stage, describing Earth, England, and Hogwarts. Because only one person was speaking, Feferi was given the translation stone and both trolls listened enraptured at Sirius's tales of light blue skies and one pale cream moon, tiny yet always there. He spoke of astronomy, what the troll identification symbols meant there, what the names of those were, how they were used in Runes. They saw Sirius's stormy grey eyes look far away and yet so very alive as he talked about his escapades with his old school friends, and the name they had together. The dog human wistfully recalled the tales of Padfoot the grim, Prongs the stag, Wormtail the traitorous rat, and Moony the werewolf. They were explained, after Sirius noted their confusion when he said the word 'werewolf', about humans being bitten by creatures and turning into half human – half snarlbeast hybrids during the full moon, then they were explained why people were afraid of those, then why killing others was such a big deal, then Sirius had to explain why culling was immoral and laughing when Feferi shot a sheepish Eridan a smug look, before smiling as both trolls argued that it was rather unfair for werewolves to be treated as such.

The three of them sat in comfortable silence after that, sipping at some refreshing grubjuice before Peixes went back to staring at Sirius curiously, noticing the relaxed atmosphere that she knew was incredibly uncommon when Eridan was included. Her moirail looked at her worriedly before Feferi motioned that she wanted to speak, so the stone was handed over to Sirius.

"By t)(e way Sirius, w)(at's you're blood color?" Feferi asked the human, who looked at her unsurprised.

"I've got bright red blood, like everyone else on my planet." When Eridan translated this with a frown, Feferi's jaw dropped.

"R-E-ELY?!" Confused, Sirius stared at her but before he could say anything in his defense the female troll's head snapped to Eridan.

"And )(e's a land-dweller?" Eridan nodded.

"And you didn't try to cull )(im?" Eridan shook his head as Sirius's eyes widened.

"And you treated )(im equally?" Another silent nod.

"And you bot)( )(ave been civil to eac)( ot)(er?" Both Sirius and Eridan nodded.

Feferi launched herself at Eridan, wrapping her arms tightly around him. Sirius blinked in surprise as Eridan just sighed inaudibly and returned the hug. He knew what she as going to say…

"O)( -Eridan! I'm so PROUD of you!"

"Wait, what?"

"I knew we could knock down that genocidal instinct of yours!"

"Eridan's…genocidal!"

"All t)(ose doom mac)(ines to krill t)(e land-dwellers, you must've stopped t)(ose!"

"Doom machine to kill… Oh Merlin…"

"And no prejudice against )(is blood! Oh, I'm so )(appy you've decided not to go around krilling people randomly anymore!"

"Eridan…what…?"

Feferi chose to break the hug at this point to address Sirius, who was looking at Eridan with a mixture of horror and fear. She cleared her throat.

"Seaing as you came to Alternia recently, you don't reely know -Eridan's )(istory. Sit down and we shell tell you OUR stories now!"

Sirius nodded numbly as he listened to the stories of FLARP, Feferi's impending crown, and life with her dear moirail. He learned about a troll that was bloodthirsty and prejudiced about everyone and everything, about the doom machines that he built for another vile troll named Vriska (Feferi squealing when Eridan told her that he was done with Serket for good), about all those who cowered under the might of Ahab's Crosshairs.

"Wwhat you saww tonight wwas barely a fraction of wwhat the rifle is truly capable of. I needed a carcass, not a pile of incinerated ash."

The animagus listened in enraptured horror about the stories of the Signless, the Grand Highblood, Her Imperious Condescension, and what little was known about Orphaner Dualscar. Recollections of cullings, of the ginormous Imperial Drones, of the caverns that young wrigglers must surpass in order to live, the vicious lifestyle that was terrifyingly Spartan. He was shown how they protected themselves, the horns that could detect emotion, lies, danger, and intent, their eyes that could see even in the darkest of places, sharp teeth and claws that could tear leather (it was confirmed that Eridan, being a violet blood, was the only one with two sets of teeth, Feferi only had one), bones that were lighter yet so much more durable because of its similar properties to sturdy cartilage which made them far more flexible, and soft chitin that cover their body which could harden in a split second. All these natural bodily defenses that made humans look like vulnerable worms.

Honestly, if Feferi was talking about millions of these creatures as adults with technology beyond human understanding, Earth was doomed if the Empress ever set her sights in conquering their solar system. With defenses like that, magic was almost…useless. These kids were thirteen and already they knew how to kill! It was truly daunting, what a different world Alternia was. Looking back, he was lucky that Eridan had found him, and for some reason didn't kill him right out. If it were any other troll, he'd be dead before he knew it.

"…Sirius?"

Eridan's voice broke Sirius out of his thoughts, the small troll holding a worried expression that Feferi seemed to find immense joy and pride in.

"Fef said she'll comb through her records to see if she can find anythin that might help us open the arch again."

"Oh…good…"

Sirius gave a strained smile. This was a lot to take in…

"Sirius, you don't havve to be afraid of me. I'm not suddenly goin to go genocidal on you."

"Thanks kiddo, that helps."

"Aaaaw, I knew you were a good person deep down inside!"

"FEF!"

Well, Sirius thought to himself, at least they still act like little kids…

He suddenly felt a vibration inside his robe pocket. The only thing he had that vibrated was…oh. Seeing the look on his face, Eridan just nodded. Excusing himself, Feferi was still grinning like a maniac and Eridan's face was still flushed with embarrassment as she poked fun at him, Sirius went outside and fished out the vibrating object – his mirror.

Now this wasn't an ordinary mirror, no. This was a two-way mirror that he and James had invented. Sirius have given one to Harry for a fifteenth birthday present and thanked whatever deity was out there that not only had he had the sense to give one to Harry, but also for remembering to bring his along. Sure enough a muffled, familiar voice emanated from the mirror.

"Sirius Black! Sirius Black!" Hearing the plea in Harry's voice, the dog animagus waited no time to connect the mirrors.

"Harry Potter!"

The mirror's image changed, showing the haggard face of a teenage boy with raven black hair. Emerald eyes widened in surprise and relief.

"Sirius!"

"Prongslet!" Harry looked so happy, but then his features turned suspicious.

"Wait…what did you give me as a present in third year?" The question didn't surprise Sirius at all, and replied.

"Your Firebolt, pup! Merlin, it's good to see you!"

"It's good to see you to Sirius!" Harry's face dropped a little.

"What's wrong?"

"Everyone thinks you're dead. I mean, the Veil passes through life and…ARE you dead?"

"No, pup, not dead! Very much alive, and I've made a big discovery!"

"The Veil doesn't lead to death?"

"Well, it could, but not for me!"

"Wait, what?"

"It leads to another PLANET, Harry! And it's so…so strange!"

"Another PLANET?!"

"Yeah, the aliens here call themselves 'trolls' but they don't look anything like the trolls back home. I met one and surprisingly he didn't try to kill me and now we're friends. He's trying to help me now!"

"And I thought I had the strangest luck…"

"It runs in your blood, Prongslet! The Marauder Legacy!"

"Yeah…I'm so glad you're alive…"

"So am I, Harry, so am I…"

"When do you think you'll be back?"

"We're working on it, pup, we're working on it."

"At least I can tell the others you're alive and well."

"You bet your galleons I am! So don't mope, okay? Uncle Padfoot will be back before you know it!"

"I'll keep that in mind… My trial for the Dementors is tomorrow, do you think you'll be back by then?"

"I'll do my best! Who knows, maybe luck will strike again! I'll message you on this when I find a way back, alright?"

"Sounds brilliant to me…Mrs. Weasley is calling and I can hear Ron and Hermione. I'll be back later."

"Alright Prongslet, take care."

"You too Padfoot, I'll see you later."

"See you later…"

After that, Sirius was back to looking at his own reflection. He sighed, he wondered if he could convince Eridan to speed up the search.

"I'll try my best to find a wway to open the arch."

Sirius almost jumped two feet in the air when he heard the sudden voice.

"How…how long were you listening?"

"You gave Harry a…Firebolt in his third year, your human friends think you're dead, you told Harry that the Vveil is the Archwway, and that he shouldn't mope, your luck runs in your little friend group, Harry has a trial for Dementors tomorroww, and his human caretakers wwere callin him."

"So, everything."

Eridan just smirked as he leaned on the doorframe, it was still infuriatingly familiar.

After Feferi had left, wishing Eridan luck and telling him to troll her when he found a way, Eridan drilled Sirius on his situation back on Earth. Eridan listened with folded hands about Voldemort and the War, and that Harry was in the middle of all this. His violet eyes shimmered.

"Can I help?"

"What? Eridan, no offense, but no matter how dangerous, you're still a kid and I don't want to see you hurt."

"I also happen to be a learned military tactician, so havvin me onboard wwould be an asset."

"You're a what?"

"A military tactician. I knoww howw to fight a wwar. Also, if you'vve forgotten already, I too am a genocidal sociopath hell bet on destroyin those I feel are lowwer than me."

"Yeah, but you stopped."

"I still havve the mindset, and wwith my train of thought I wwould be better at predictin this Vvoldemort's next movve."

"Fine…" Sirius sighed, and Eridan smirked.

Eridan then led Sirius back down to the chamber with the archway, before stopping when Sirius froze. His head was turned to the inscriptions on the wall. The young troll internally groaned in frustration. He could understand human speech, but their writing was still foreign. Eridan stood back as the adult human read the writing, going down a few steps to read the full message.

"So that's why it's here…"

"Pardon?"

"It says here, 'To wvhom it may concern, this is a path forged to trade wvith a wvorld unknowvn to many. To my descendant, if you are reading this, it means you are ready to go to this newv wvorld. Earth is vwery different from Alternia, and the short fleshbags knowvn as goblins wvill guide you. They wvere our trading partners before humans, wvizards, decided to use this powver against me. I havwe sealed the Passage, if any Earthlings come in, they wvill not get out unless you permit them to. If you decide to continue my legacy, then go through the Passage and meet your destiny. Once it has been opened, it wvill not close unless you permit it to. This is the true powvers of our line. Wve hold something that is not troll, but because wve are troll this makes us gods to the Earthling fleshbags, use this knowvledge wvisely. The powver can be called, channeled through Ahab's Crosshairs. Learn to wvield it as the Earthlings do. Hail the Empress, Orphaner Dualscar'."

Eridan blinked once, twice, slowly.

"Say that again?"

Sirius repeated the message Dualscar had left for his descendant as Eridan dutifully typed it down on his husktop. After doing so, he recapchalogged the husktop and turned back to an openmouthed Sirius.

"I though wwe wwere goin to find out about the 'Passage'?"

"That can wait because THAT THING JUST WENT INTO THIN AIR!"

Eridan sighed, and decided that to prevent the poor human from having a panic attack, he might as well explain the Sylladex. Over dinner, of course.

Sirius gaped over his food as Eridan explained a technology he didn't even know was possible.

"So wwe havve these cards that can hold anythin, and the wway they are arranged and retrievved depends on wwhat Fetch Modus you havve. These capchalog cards are kept in the deck, but again can be summoned by wwhatevver Fetch Modus you chose. Mine, for example, is a simple one because I realized early on that confusin or complex ones just to be 'fun' are completely impractical, so I havve the Element Modus. The items are arranged by type, use, and size and I summon an item by callin its name or sign. Most of the time it's a directed thought, but to showw you I'll demonstrate out loud. Calcium."

His husktop appeared in his hands, before it disappeared.

"The Sylladex is tied to your mind and your mind only. Only you call access it, but you can change Modii wwhenevver you wwant. The Sylladex manifests as this,"

He pulls out a little slab of metal with buttons.

"But it doesn't havve to. The cards are stored in here, in a pocket of paradox space wwithin the cards. As long as it can be considered a single unit, it can be stored wwithin one card. The amount of cards I havve is set, as I havve the Element Modus, givvin me around one hundred and eighteen slots to juggle around, wwhich is good, don't get me wwrong, it's more than most, a cheat wway so to speak…

The technology originated around twwenty swweeps ago, so fairly neww in comparison to the wwhole of Alternian history. Evvery troll has one, givven to them by their Lusus once they're old enough to use it, so I greww up wwith it."

Pocketing the slab again, Eridan fell silent and waited until Sirius started to break from his stupor, his mouth still agape and staring at the young troll in awe. After a few seconds, Eridan just rolled his eyes and sneered.

"If you wwant to catch flies in your mouth, by all means continue to gape."

That snapped the human out of his shock, and Sirius immediately looked sheepish as he once again dug into his food.

"Sorry, it's just a lot to keep up with."

"I understand, but that doesn't mean you should constantly act like a lollygaggin idiot wwhile doin so."

"Gah, I swear you remind me of someone back on Earth!"

"And wwho is that?"

"I don't know! I've got it in the back of my mind…"

"Suppressed memory?"

"What?"

"You probably can't remember because your subconscious doesn't wwant you too. The truth may be too horrible for your feeble human psyche." Eridan deadpanned.

"Oh now you're just getting smart with me."

"I am alwways smart wwith others, wwhat's the point of actin like a dunderhead?"

"Okay, now I know I've heard that somewhere before!"

"Again, it's probably a suppressed memory."

"Ugh…"

Dinner was finished between friendly banter, even though the nagging feeling of familiarity was stronger than ever now. Afterwards they headed to Eridan's 'book collection', which turned out to be a library that put Hogwarts to absolute shame. When asked about it, Eridan shrugged and told Sirius that when not fighting for survival, a troll has a lot of time on their hands. School was a foreign concept, apparently, only told in far off lands of storybooks, which would explain why the troll was so excited for school. Still, it stuck out to Sirius that the boy wasn't too sociable, but then again, neither was Harry when they first met, under those questionable circumstances. Research ended up with Sirius giving Eridan a crash course on reading and writing English, which proved to be even simpler than speaking it because the troll was trying to decipher it for two years. Apparently Eridan had practically memorized half his library but kept them around because 'readin wwas fun'. The animagus could only shake his head and wonder how long it would take for the troll and Hermione to become friends.

Currently Sirius was thinking love at first sight.

Sirius watched in amusement as Eridan whisked out his husktop and started to decipher what his ancestor had left, and sighed. While it was good to have an absolute brainiac like Eridan to help him with things that were beyond his comprehension, 'patience' wasn't really in any Black family dictionary, no matter how cursed. Part of him wanted to go NOW, the other part, the sensible part, knew that it could very well take YEARS to figure out how to get back-

"I'vve got it!"

Oh, apparently not. The impatient part of Sirius Black rejoiced at this. He crossed the library to find Eridan holding that Merlin forsaken harpoon rifle with a very nasty glint in his eye.

"What is it, kiddo?"

"The powwer Dualscar wwas talkin about. I must be Magic. My line can wwield magic, and the wway to access it…Ahab's Crosshairs. After doin some research on it, I'vve found that Dualscar got it from an unknowwn source, most likely a collaboration wwith wwizards. Wwhich means the blast it produces is actually it channeling my magic into a large, concentrated beam."

"So in short, your gun is a weaponized wand."

"Precisely! Wwhich wwould explain wwhy those wwands dowwnstairs exploded, I ovverloaded them!"

"So all you have to do is use the gun as a wand and we can pass through the Veil?"

"In theory, yes."

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's try it out!"

Sirius practically raced down the stairs to the chamber, with Eridan tagging along behind him. He was so giddy, and so happy that it had taken an impossibly short time to figure out. Hey, maybe the kid was just lucky, maybe the Marauder's luck has once again shined down upon this old dog. Once they reached the Veil, Eridan called back his rifle and turned to Sirius.

"Howw do wwizards open things like this?"

"Well, if I could, I would do this." Sirius took out his wand and tapped it on the stone curtains, "Patefio."

Nothing happened, which was expected, but…

Eridan tapped the stone curtain with the tip of his rifle. "Patefio."

This time, the stone curtains softened, becoming the familiar fluttering fabric that both of them knew so well. Sirius let out a large whoop of joy while Eridan just grinned like a maniac. From what the young troll had gleaned from his research and relayed to Sirius, the Veil wouldn't completely connect until Eridan went through.

"…Wwe should wwait before goin through."

"Why?"

"Both of us havve had a long day. Best to rest to face the next step of life's advventure, no? Besides, your godson has a trial, wwhy not tell him of our progress so you can meet up tomorroww?"

"Point taken. What are you going to do?"

"Tie up some…loose ends. I wwill be gone for an indiscernible amount of time, though I havve done my duties to last half a swweep, approximately a human year. I need a quick wway to get back though, hold on…"

Eridan touched the Veil and it (surprise, surprise) disappeared into thin air. The troll held a triumphant grin at this. Immediately Sirius caught onto his train of thought. Snatch up the Veil so nobody but him could use it, the last thing the kid needed was grown wizards trashing his home in the name of research. Sirius watched as Eridan 'uncapchalogged' the Veil, putting it back into its original place. Man, this technology was amazing! As if reading his mind, Eridan turned to face him.

"If you wwant, wwe could go and buy some extra Sylladexes for you and your friends."

"You can buy those?!"

"Sylladexes can break after years of use, plus its alwways good foresight to keep a backup. Howw many do you think wwe'll need?"

"The Order is pretty big…"

"Twwenty-Four pack it is…"

"…Good enough. Are you sure though."

"Sirius, in case you'vve forgotten, I'm a seadwweller, wwhich on Alternia is synonymous wwith 'Filthy fuckin Rich' to the point wwhere I could probably buy half the moon and still havve spare change."

"Merlin… Alright, if you're sure…"

"I might as wwell, I need to get supplies anywways."

"Why supplies? My home is well stocked…"

"Sirius. This is a matter of intergalactic research. I learn from your culture and you can learn from mine. So anythin that you don't havve, I wwill get to educate you poor monkey fleshlins."

"Owch Eridan, harsh much?"

"Harshness and correctness usually followw hand in hand."

"Prat."

"Landdwweller."

Turns out there were a lot of similarities between a muggle supermarket and an Alternian supermarket, including the stock. Only things like native foods and beverages made in in the cart, as Sirius marveled at how surreal this experience truly was. It also seemed to be fate, as Eridan just happened to bump into the final puzzle piece in Sirius's comparisons to the golden trio.

"WELL LOOK WHO FINALLY DECIDED TO GRACE US WITH HIS FUCKING ROYAL PRESENCE."

Standing in front of Eridan was a much shorter troll, which looked quite different from the seadweller. His horns were small and nubby, and he was wearing a black turtleneck with a grey cancer symbol, with grey slacks and black shoes. The yelling troll's ears were pointy, like a forest elf or centaur, and lacked the finned protrusions that Eridan and Feferi had. Black hair (apparently all trolls had black hair, according to Eridan, go figure) was cut vaguely short and messy, reminded Sirius of Harry (or James). He had slightly blunter teeth and grey eyes.

"Hello Kar. Howw are you?"

"FAN FUCKING TASTIC, THANK YOU FOR ASKING." The shorter troll then seemed to notice Sirius's presence.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF FUCK IS THAT?!"

"A human, Kar. An alien. Wwho happens to share a unique trait that wwe both knoww you havve." 'Kar's eyes widened, seemingly knowing what Eridan was hinting at.

"NO FUCKING WAY."

"Oh, but havve you considered… yes wway?"

"DON'T GET SMART WITH ME AMPORA."

Ampora, must be Eridan's last name…

"Just sayin, Kar. Remember that, ah, project I wwas wworkin on? He fell through that. And noww I'm goin wwith him to study human culture."

"I SHOULD PROBABLY GO WITH YOU. YOU KNOW, BECAUSE NO MATTER HOW ANNOYING YOU CAN BE, YOU'RE STILL MY FRIEND."

"That's kind of you Kar. If you wwant, I can let you in at a later date, catch up on wwhat I found out."

"I'LL BE WAITING FOR YOUR EVER PRESENT VIOLET COLORED TEXT TO GRACE MY SCREEN SOMETIME THEN. BUT FOR NOW, I HAVE A DATE WITH ONE OF MY NEW TREASURES."

"Rom-com?"

"YOU BET YOUR SEA SALT FILLED GILLS, SEE YOU LATER ERIDAN."

"Bye, Kar."

After the brief exchange (Sirius was grateful he decided that bringing along the stone was a good idea) both trolls parted ways, 'Kar' walking out of the store and Eridan dragging Sirius further in.

"So who was he?"

"Karkat Vvantas, a good friend of mine."

"What was the similarity that he seemed to be so shocked at?"

"Blood color. Kar has crimson red blood, like you humans."

"And you didn't…cull him?"

"I decided our friendship wwas more important than the little fact that he's a mutantblood."

"Glad to know I wasn't that only one spared your genocidal wrath."

"I make exceptions from time to time. Not often, though. You're just one of the lucky ones."

"Thank you, oh so great killer of all things, I bow to you."

"Vvery funny Sirius."

Shopping after that didn't take very long, and soon the two were back on Skyhorse hivebound with supplies that mostly included objects of Alternian culture and a 24-pack of Sylladexes, and Sirius decided that was close enough. With the way that Karkat spoke, it vaguely reminded him of the youngest Weasley boy, Ron (though to be fair, if Molly ever caught anyone saying anything worse than 'dang', she'd give them an earful). It really did seem to fit together, in a way. This warped version of the golden trio manifested within three close friend trolls, at least to Sirius.

As soon as they reached the warship, Eridan scuttled away to prepare his voyage to another planet, which included messaging Feferi. Taking this as the best time to do so, Sirius took out his mirror.

"Harry Potter."

Harry Potter was having a very bad day. The keyword here is 'was'. At first, it seemed horrible when he woke up at an unholy hour in the morning at 12 Grimmauld Place, having a vivid nightmare about the kidnapping of Neville and Luna in the Ministry of Magic. Sneaking out with Ron and Hermione he managed to find the two in the Department of Mysteries, Stunned but unharmed. This didn't last long when Harry finally found what Voldemort was trying to make him find through his dreams, the Prophecy. That's when all the Death Eaters jumped out from their hiding places in a surprise party of death and ambushed the five teens. They fought with everything they had, then the Order came, and then Sirius fell into the Veil and everyone thought he was dead. The Prophecy orb broke and when he tried to question Dumbledore about it the old man STILL wouldn't talk to him! Without the knowledge of whatever the HELL was going on because not only was he up for trial for defending his cousin from a Dementor attack in Surrey, but NOBODY would tell him ANYTHING! Piled up with Sirius's apparent death and you got one VERY angsty Harry Potter.

Fortunately when he stopped up to Sirius's room with a storm cloud of angry aura hovering over him (everyone parted to give him way, he looked absolutely murderous) Harry found the parcel Sirius gave him for his birthday. The mirror was set to one that Sirius had and in a desperate attempt at denying his godfather's death, he shouted into the mirror.

That's when the miracle happened. Sirius was ALIVE and well and one ANOTHER PLANET. If it weren't for the great relief of having his godfather alive he would have questioned the poor man's sanity but honestly, everyone said the Veil lead to the afterlife, why not another planet?

So now Harry was having a rather good day, and when Hermione and Ron cautiously walked up the stairs to get Harry for dinner, fully expecting a full on hissy fit, they were met with the sight of a grinning Boy Who Lived.

"Harry…?" Hermione tentatively started before staring at him in shock.

"Harry, mate, are you alright?" Ron asked slowly, with made Harry grin wider and pull the two into a big hug.

"Alright? I'm more than alright! I feel fantastic!"

"Harry, you don't have to hide your hurt from us, Sirius's death was…" Hermione started before she was interrupted by Harry.

"But that's the thing! Sirius isn't dead! He's alive, and trying to get back!" Both of their eyes widened.

"Harry… you're not pulling our leg, are you?" Ron said in the same slow voice as before.

"No, no… but it does sound weird, doesn't it? I mean, who would have thought that the Veil lead to another PLANET?" Harry was met with looks of shock and denial, but interlocked their arms.

"Come on, let's go to dinner!"

It was needless to say that the tense atmosphere that the Order was expecting from Harry disappeared as soon as they saw the grin on his face. They, like Ron and Hermione, just stared at this strange person that looked like the Harry that was angry and hour ago, but definitely was smiling as if he won the lottery.

"…Cub?" came the tentative whisper of Remus.

"Sirius. Sirius is alive."

That did it. The kitchen erupted into commotion at this, but Dumbledore raised his hand and everyone fell silent.

"That is a rather interesting statement, but before we interrogate Mr. Potter, let us eat first?"

As if to prove him right, some low rumbles emanated from a few Order members as the Golden Trio sat with their two new members, Neville and Luna. The Weasley Twins were looking at Harry as if he was mad, but you could see to hope in their eyes. Remus was trying to believe Harry, but without proof it felt impossible, he saw Sirius got through the Veil, didn't it lead to the afterlife?

Discussion turned to Harry's upcoming trial, and the plan on how to convince the Wizengamot that Harry was innocent. They had a sound plan of Unbreakable Vows and Vertaserum, and Harry felt like everything was finally going right in comparison to the past few days. After dinner was over, everyone gathered around Harry to listen to what he had to say. When he did so, everyone tried to argue with him, how it was impossible because nobody ever came out of the Veil, how there was never any contact, how Harry might just be in denial.

A familiar voice rang out from the mirror in Harry's pocket, a voice that belonged to the very man they were trying to convince Harry that he was dead.

"Harry Potter."

Chapter Text

"Sirius Black."

Once again Sirius was graced with the sight of his godson, who looked rather haggard yet a million times better than he did when he was first contacted. Peering at the background, Sirius surmised that Harry must be in the kitchen, before the image sifted as the mirror was passed to someone else. It was Moony! A little worse for wear, but it was probably close to a full moon. His amber eyes conveyed distrust, suspicion, and hope.

"Sirius, what got you in detention first thing fourth year?" Sirius groaned at that question.

"For the last time Moony, I didn't do it! I was framed by Peeves I swear! I would never, EVER do something like that to you – I don't even LIKE oranges!"

The laugh that bubbled from Remus at an answer that could only have been given by one Sirius Orion Black was like music to Sirius's ears as he watched the werewolf lose the distrust from his face and replaced it with relief. He could also hear a couple of other chuckles, including Harry's, at the answer he had given. Lupin wiped away a stray tear that came out of his eye.

"It's good to see you alive, Padfoot. We all thought you were a goner…"

"Hey! I'm made of sterner stuff! It takes more than a little stone archway with tattered curtains to beat me! I mean did you see what I did to the curtains in the west wing hallway?"

"Yes Padfoot, we did. Molly was not amused but I must agree the replacements are much more inviting. Kreacher had a hissy fit."

"Not surprised at all! Anyways, Prongslet, Moony, I have something to tell you…er…well…all of you." Sirius said sheepishly as he noted the people in the background.

"…You're not coming back?" Harry ground out with gritted teeth and clenched fists.

"Actually, I'll be coming back tomorrow! The little alien bugger was fast with his research."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Said little alien bugger wants to go to Hogwarts, that's what."

"…oh."

"Yeah, he's got magic and everything, and he feels a little out of place here…"

It was then that Moony levitated the mirror so that Sirius could see everyone gathered at the kitchen table. There were the Order members and the Weasley children and Harry and Hermione and… Longbottom and Lovegood? Oh right, they were at the Battle at the Department of Mysteries… Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, as if this entire situation amused him.

"And how old is your little alien friend?" asked the genial Headmaster.

"He's thirteen, and learns faster than Remus on a chocolate rush. Three hours and he's already picked up English without ever hearing it before. Teaching him the first two years would be a breeze."

"I don't know about this, wouldn't he be a little suspicious?"

"Please, he's been a great help and is the only reason I'm alive right now! And…I promised him…"

"Black…never make promises that you know you can't keep, especially to those you just met! Where is your CONSTANT VIGILANCE?!" Sirius winced at Moody's tone.

"I know, I know. But he's just a kid! Okay, not JUST a kid…"

"What do you mean by that, Padfoot?"

"Kid's a genius, and… well… you'll have to meet him for yourself if you really want to know I guess. He's hard to explain…"

"You just want us to let him in here, don't you?" Mad-Eye snarled out.

"Well, he needs to open the passageway through, he can come in and out any time. I'm asking if he can join us and… go to Hogwarts." Dumbledore put a hand on Moody's shoulder.

"I don't see why he could not attend. Though certain precautions must be in place, but it is nothing we cannot handle. I am rather curious about this little alien friend of yours, as extraterrestrials are…unheard of." Sirius smiled widely at that.

"Brilliant!"

"Yes, though what time tomorrow do you plan on…dropping by?"

"I think it might be sometime late afternoon…"

"Ah, we shall attempt to meet you right after young Harry's trial then!"

"Sounds great to me!"

"Good, good! Now, I am in the assumption that sleep is in order. You shall contact us when you are ready, of course?" Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling madly, and Sirius cracked another doggy grin before saluting.

"Yes sir!"

"Then we shall bid each other goodnight."

"Goodnight Padfoot." Remus whispered, smiling softly.

"Goodnight Sirius!" Harry said, grinning.

"Goodnight Mr. Black!"

Once again the mirror returned its reflective form, and Sirius pocketed it with a sigh. He turned around to see Eridan sitting cross-legged on one of his chairs, with a single eyebrow raised.

"Little alien bugger? Really noww?"

"Oh come on, it's true! You're little, you're an alien, and trolls are insects based! It was genius!"

"Mmhhm. Keep tellin yourself that, Sirius. Wwhatevver you say."

"Oi! Sarcasm alert!"

"I'm quite sure I knoww wwhen I'm bein sarcastic."

"That's what I- aaaargh!"

"Ah, yes. Please wwatch your step on those."

"Little too late there, kid."

Eridan was still sitting on his chair, picking up some books and maps and game boxes, capchalogging them with ease. It took all of an hour to teach Sirius how to work it, and Eridan had the feeling that this was the quickest the man had learned anything in his life. Sirius rapidly denied this and babbled on about Quiddich and Broomsticks (that explained the black cleaning branch he found looting those skeletons…) which led Eridan to show him the 'broomstick' that he had…acquired. This led to a rant about how the thing was an antique and still in near-mint condition.

The troll wasn't too sure he would be a good flier, most of the time it was just him riding Skyhorse, and that was a different story altogether. Eridan half listened to Sirius as he enabled his security systems to his husktop, in case of an attack. There were always attempts made on his life, though the violet blood was more concerned with his hive being totaled.

That happened, once, and that was why he got the security system in the first place. Damn Serket. Why do you think it broke in the first place? It used to be a working warship before!

"So how long until we leave for Earth?"

"Givve me…half an hour."

"Alright."

As if it was waiting for Sirius the entire time, the human's magic mirror buzzed again. Sirius looked at Eridan expectantly and the troll shooed him away, rolling his eyes. This earned him a mock hurt expression before the only adult he's actually ever met bounced out of the room to give the news to his Godson. Funny. Eridan thought that Harry was a little more mature than the actual adult caretaker. Go figure. Leave it to humans to be confusing and nonsensical, he supposed. The seadweller grinned. Studying there, with them, was going to be so much fun, he just knew it!

Whistling to Seahorsedad, Eridan went to check the lasers on his ship. Hopefully Captor and Zahhak came through, but he wasn't one to doubt their work. After all, Equius was a perfectionist when it came to his mechanics, and duping a highblood would have gone against his principles. Captor was a different story. He was Karkat's friend, but even Eridan could tell that Feferi was gaining some sort of flush crush on him. This made it a little tense whenever the two met, but eventually they fell into the deal of 'you don't tread on me and I don't tread on you'. Besides, he and Megido were a pair, but it didn't help the niggling feeling in his horns of what could have been. It's not that he would be jealous, he was pale for his moirail and he would find another way to evade the drones (copious amounts of lasers, perhaps?), it was that if Sollux ever broke her emotional blood pusher, he would be a very dead mustard blood. However, Eridan had commissioned Sollux to help him with the technical workings of the security system, bribing the kid with a rather costly game grub that the psionic had his eyes one. Well, pricey for a lowblood. So Eridan hoped and reasoned that this system would help him defend his hive while he was away, the cameras, lasers, and other hidden goodies could all be accessed via his husktop, which worked through Paradox Space.

Take that, you lousy fools.

Not that they didn't have reason to kill him. After all, it was mostly because he killed their Lusii that they even considered pursuing him. It was just a little stupid, going against a known killer like that who is actually doing it for the good of the planet. But alas, some people were either too overcome with grief or too stupid to realize just who they were dealing with. Eridan always put a stop to this. Efficiently. Ruthlessly. The carcasses were still donated to Vriska, as it would be a waste of good troll meat to do otherwise. Hopefully while he was on Earth he wouldn't have to do anything like this, as they seem to hold life, especially a child's, in a strange protective hold that he had never seen before.

That was all part of learning the society of a different species, and Eridan couldn't wait. He giddily tested the hidden speakers and receivers while Sirius finished up talking with his Godson, wondering what Earth was like all the while.

Harry thought that going into the Ministry the first time was annoying. It turned out the second time around was far worse. In fact, to what he was dealing with today, Harry would have preferred the Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. At night, when no one else was there.

Why?

Bureaucrats.

In the daytime, the Ministry of Magic was full of them. And as Mr. Weasley led Harry through the confusing twists and turns of the place, Harry took note of the type of people he passed by. With narrowed emerald eyes he took in their expressions and mannerisms as he was dragged through paperwork upon paperwork upon paperwork until he felt he was going to be sick, Mr. Weasley throwing him knowing looks. Everything had to be in a particular fashion, signed in a particular quill. The worst part was that Harry had to read all of what he was signing, and even found some rather nasty things that he would have otherwise missed if he hadn't. Damn Ministry, trying to wheedle and rob everything… legal theft, that's all it seemed to be. Everything was less legible in parchment and ink, can't they just swallow their pureblood pride and switch to something more reasonable? Like computers? Typewriters? Something other than this madness!

An hour passed and they managed to get all their paperwork in order. Harry and Mr. Weasley caught an elevator (elevators, sure, but not paper? Backwards, all of them) to Mr. Weasley's office. After exchanging pleasantries with some colleagues, learning about wizarding offices, and finding out that the Ministry had changed his time and place for the hearing to an actual courtroom instead of Amelia Bone's office, Harry was part angry and the Ministry and relieved that he had the foresight to arrive two hours early. Now with the time change, the two of them had ten minutes to get to Courtroom Ten.

Which happened to be on the same level as the Department of Mysteries. Things were just getting better and better, weren't they? After weaving their way to the iron and wood doors that could only be Courtroom Ten, Mr. Weasley bade Harry good luck.

"You're not coming with me?" Harry asked, nervous and perplexed.

"I can't. I'm not allowed to. All I can say is good luck, Harry." Mr. Weasley replied tiredly.

Harry nodded to the man and checked his watch (cracked, Dudley threw it against the wall when he rejected it) to find that he had five minutes left. Taking a deep breath, Harry collected his thoughts. Now was not the time to act like a Gryffindor, what he needed to be was the Slytherin the Sorting Hat wanted him to be, the cunning child he was before Hogwarts, doing anything and saying anything to get out of trouble. What did he have that could be used as a weapon against them? Logic was preferred, but it seemed that Wizarding logic was far different than normal logic. It wouldn't hurt to give it a try though, especially with Sirius coming back.

He walked in through the large doors and was immediately hit with a sense of déjà vu. Oh right, this was the Courtroom the Lestranges were tried in. Why was he here then? This wasn't the worst thing he's done, perhaps they were just trying to make him a scapegoat? Man, if that was the case, Fudge really was an absolute idiot. In the crowd of hooded, dark figures that stood imposingly above him (what was this, a cult?), Harry picked out those that he knew, Cornelius Fudge, the one in the monocle was probably Amelia Bones, Percy was there, probably to take notes. They nodded to each other, still tentative friends after Harry and he played therapist on each other and spewed out problems during second year, both Percy and Harry left with a better understanding of the other after that and still kept sporadic contact.

It was a surprise, however, when Dumbledore made an appearance. Harry was almost certain the man was doing everything in his power to ignore the Boy Who Lived. Though, to be fair, Dumbledore was avoiding his gaze. Minister Fudge took out a long piece of parchment and began to read off of it in an imperious voice.

"The charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately, and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge, produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on August the second at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offense under paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under section thirteen of the International Confederation of Wizards' Statute of Secrecy."

"You are Harry James Potter, of number four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" Fudge said, glaring at Harry over the top of his parchment.

"Yes, sir." It wasn't as if he hadn't been to court hearings before, going into Juvie was preferable to living in Privet Drive.

"You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?"

"Yes, sir." His face remained impassive, knowing full well that complaining now would make him look guilty.

"And yet you conjured a Patronus on the night of the second of August?"

"Yes, sir." He saw a couple of eyebrows rise at this, oh this was going to be interesting.

"Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside school while you are under the age of seventeen?"

"Yes, sir." There was some shifting around.

"Knowing that you were in an area full of Muggles?"

"Yes, sir." Ms. Bones looked like she was about to speak up.

"Fully aware that you were in close proximity to a Muggle at the time?"

"Yes-" It was then that Ms. Bones cut across in a booming voice.

"You produced a fully-fledged Patronus?" Harry smirked, bingo.

"Yes, miss."

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"A- what?" said Harry, confused.

"Your Patronus had a clearly defined form? I mean to say, it was more than vapor or smoke?"

"Yes, miss. It's a stag, always a stag." Okay, where was she going with this - oh right.

"Always?" boomed Madam Bones. "You have produced a Patronus before now?"

"Yes, miss. Since third year."

"You learned this at school?"

"Yes, miss. Professor Lupin taught me in my third year, because of the-"

"Impressive," said Madam Bones, staring down at him, "a true Patronus at that age . . . very impressive indeed." Harry smiled up at her good-naturedly and bowed.

"Why thank you, miss, I do try." When in doubt, do the Riddle.

"It's not a question of how impressive the magic was," said Fudge testily. "In fact, the more impressive the worse it is, I would have thought, given that the boy did it in plain view of a Muggle!"

Ah, now it was his turn to formulate a rebuttal. He mustered up all his Slytherin cunning and spoke in a firm voice.

"If I am permitted to speak sir, that muggle was my cousin, Dudley, of whom I lived with and therefore knew about magic. Also, I had no choice but to cast a Patronus, as we were being pursued by two Dementors."

The silence was all Harry needed to hear to see that his point had gone across.

"Dementors?" said Madam Bones after a moment, "What do you mean, boy?"

"Ah," said Fudge again, smirking unpleasantly as he looked around at the Wizengamot, as though inviting them to share the joke. "Yes. Yes, I thought we'd be hearing something like this."

"Dementors in Little Whinging?" Madam Bones said in tones of great surprise. "I don't understand —"

"Don't you, Amelia?" said Fudge, still smirking. "Let me explain. He's been thinking it through and decided Dementors would make a very nice little cover story, very nice indeed. Muggles can't see Dementors, can they, boy? Highly convenient, highly convenient . . . so it's just your word and no witnesses. . . ."

"Just my word, sir? There are many ways a wizard can be determined if they are lying or not. Pensieve, Vertaserum, an Oath? If you want the truth, take it and see that I am not lying." Harry quipped in a cold voice.

Oh dear, he was starting to act like Tom.

Dumbledore seemed to think so as well, as Harry saw the man flinch out of the corner of his eye. Curious, he was just acting after all, and who better to emulate than the most charismatic Slytherin of all? Harry decided to ponder on Dumbledore's behavior later. Not while the show was going on, because Harry was frighteningly enjoying Fudge's flustering.

"Er…Well…Things like that could be lied about…"

Madame Bones, however, was having none of Fudge's…fudging.

"Your reasoning is sound, Mr. Potter. Care to take an Oath?"

Harry nodded, raised his wand and thanked Sirius for teaching him this before the Department of Mysteries incident.

"I, Harry James Potter, Vow on my magic that the act of casting the Patronus on August the second at twenty-three minutes past nine was in an act of self-defense against the mortal dangers that two Dementors posed to me and my muggle cousin Dudley. So mote it be."

When the light of the Vow died down, everyone had fallen silent, with Fudge gripping the woodwork so hard Harry was sure he was going to get splinters. Madame Bones and a few others raised an eyebrow at Harry, waiting. Harry smirked, and raised his wand once again.

"Expecto Patronum!"

The white stag that burst from his wand left the Wizengamot oohing and aahing. Several of them actually started to clap. One whistled and Harry winked at them. Madame Bones' lips quirked into a smile at the display, before booming out (it had to be a Sonorus Charm helping her with that).

"Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?"

A large amount of hands went in the air, including Amelia Bones herself. Seeing the vast amount (definitely more than half) left him grinning like a loon (he probably was one by now, wasn't he?).

"And those in favor of conviction?"

Fudge's hand shot up, no surprise there, along with half a dozen others. Then there was the woman sitting next to him, his right hand woman. Harry quirked an eyebrow at Percy and discreetly motioned toward the woman, which caused the Court Stenographer to grimace. Not a good one, then. It showed. If toads could be people, it would be this…bitch. That condescending smile was grinding on his nerves more than Malfoy's does, and it was wide and, well, toady. She actually had a little black bow in her hair, and it gave Harry the impression that she was like a slug trying desperately to be a butterfly and failing miserably. Those beady eyes didn't help, they were more calculating than Fudge's and he felt a shiver run up his spine.

Darn it, Potter senses are going haywire, this one's trouble.

Nevertheless, he was definitely cleared of all charges (take that you two faced politician you) and Harry watched in unhidden amusement as Fudge looked around, saw that he was in minority, and turned a shade of red that put Ron's ears to shame.

"Very well, very well . . . cleared of all charges." he said with thinly suppressed rage.

He honestly looked like a cherry walnut. Harry hated those things. So he gave the Minister a brilliant smile. Harry gave one to Dumbledore as well, but the man didn't see it as he had silently swept out of the room with a concerned look on his face. Oh, well, couldn't please the world. He found himself in frightening clarity as he realized he was starting to not care what people thought about him. Why should he? Nobody, sans his friends plus/including the entire Weasley family, really understood him anyway. Though to be fair, the Order of the Phoenix (except Mundungus, the thieving bastard) seemed like nice people, and it was only this year that Dumbledore was pulling something like this…

Leaning back into the chair he sat on with a sigh, Harry watched as the Wizengamot members slowly filed out. When the majority trickled out and he was sure no one was going to see him, Harry pulled out the mirror.

"Sirius Black." he whispered.

"Harry Potter." came the voice on the other side.

"Sssssh. I'm still in the Ministry courtroom. Trial's over."

"That's good…what's the verdict?" Sirius whispered back.

"Cleared of all charges. All I had to do was tell the truth, I didn't really do anything against the law….just against the Minister, apparently."

"Well, you know Minister folk... Anyways, good news! I'll be coming through the Veil in half an hour, meet me there, yeah?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world. It's only been a day and I miss you already."

"I know, Pup, I know. You'll be seeing me soon though! I'll see you then, Harry!"

"See you then, Sirius."

The connection was severed and Harry pocketed the mirror.

Striding out of the courtroom and into the hallway, Harry met up with Mr. Weasley. Percy walked towards them, briefly giving them a glance and a wink that was imperceptible to anyone watching them, before moving forwards to his next destination. To say Arthur was surprised was an understatement, and the happiness and hope was evident in the man's eyes. Before he could say anything , however, Harry spoke in a hushed voice.

"Cleared of all charges. I'll tell you later. Sirius called. He's coming out of the Veil in half an hour." Mr. Weasley nodded, before grinning from ear to ear.

"Let's go to my office then, still have to fix up those animated toilets!"

Harry laughed along with Arthur as they headed up to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to meet with Shacklebolt and tell him the news. However, neither of them was aware that someone was listening from behind the courtroom doors.

With a toady smirk, Dolores Umbridge processed the information that she had just over heard from the precious Boy Who Lived, plotting to herself. So Sirius Black, known criminal fugitive was going to be coming out of the Veil in less than half an hour? It looked like she needed to gather the Wizengamot again, along with say, twenty Dementors? That should be enough, yes. Oh, Black wasn't getting away with this one, and after the stunt Potter pulled today, she hoped to watch him as his precious Godfather was finally given justice. In the form of a Dementor's Kiss.

Umbridge trotted along, giddy with anticipation. She just had to inform the Minister!

It was fun, really, learning about the misuse of muggle artifacts. In fact, Harry's presence, along with his knowledge of the muggle world, helped Mr. Weasley and his co-workers greatly. What these people needed was more Muggleborns on the team, some people who actually understood what was happening. Oh wait, they were too prejudiced to hire them, the gits. Shacklebolt even mentioned something called 'firelegs', which ended up with Harry laughing on the floor at the miswording of 'firearms'.

"Look, Mr. Shacklebolt, Mr. Weasley, the best way to remember the name is to remember its use. A firearm is a muggle weapon that uses gunpowder. Since we…they…don't have wands they use these metal chambers with different parts and nozzles. You 'shoot' things…yes, like an arrow, except these things are really fast and can easily penetrate metal! There is a small explosion in the chamber, which is the fire part, but fire also means shooting as well. And then, you use your arms to hold them and use your fingers to pull the trigger. Fire. Arms. Firearms. Simple. See?"

To say the two of them were surprised would be an understatement. Oh well, you can't help but learn some things in juvie, really…

"Hey Harry, we better get moving, Sirius is scheduled to arrive in a little while. Don't want to be late."

So Mr. Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Harry weaved through the crowds, on their way to the Department of Mysteries when they were met with a grim faced Percy Weasley. Without letting them get a word in, he unrolled the parchment he was clutching in his hands and read in a slightly shaking voice.

"You are hereby required to attend the execution of Sirius Orion Black in the Veil Chamber…"

Percy read on but Harry couldn't focus. No… after all this, someone had overheard? It seemed the third Weasley son had finished reading the parchment and was sadly gazing at the raven haired boy.

"H-how?"

"I was rather surprised when Senior Undersecretary Delores Umbridge told me to gather everyone in the Wizengamot I could find, and lastly you, in order for Mr. Black to receive 'what he deserves'. I really hope you have your Patronus ready, she's called in an entire score of Dementors."

"A…a score? That's overkill! A normal execution only needs one…" Mr. Weasley was in shock.

"They're trying to get to me, and if I warn Sirius then who knows who would be targeted next…"

"Well, you are supposed to be the last of the 'guests', so I'm here to escort you down to the Veil Chamber."

"Yeah…"

"I'm sorry, Harry…"

"Not your fault, Percy, don't get down on yourself."

The four of them briskly walked through the Department of Mysteries, each having their own memories of the incident of which Sirius was lost to the Veil. Now he was coming out and none of them were sure if he could survive this time, not with twenty Dementors waiting for him at the entrance. They passed the ground where Voldemort and Dumbledore had fought, past the room of the swimming brains, and into the Chamber of the Veil, or just the Veil Chamber.

It was very different from when he had been here before, fighting Death Eaters and trying to prevent them from getting the Prophecy. Almost every Wizengamot member was there, sitting in the raised seating area that surrounded this place like the archaic execution courtroom it was. Madame Bones was there, looking righteously angry, while Umbridge and Fudge sat at the center podium with malicious grins on their faces. Harry pushed down the urge to glare at them, and let Percy lead them to their seats amongst the other Wizengamot members. Most were confused, others angry, and others grinning at this 'justice' that they themselves didn't understand. But that wasn't what Harry was worried about as the teen cast his eyes to where the Veil stood silently.

There, circling the Veil, were twenty Dementors. While there were Patronii scattered around to protect the other occupants, there was nothing to protect Sirius. The poor man was battered mind and spirit as it was, facing a score of Dementors would render the man impossible to cast a Patronus. Even if Harry could do it, he would be charged with aiding a criminal. There had to be another way…

Harry had been backed into a corner, and he knew it. Sinking in his seat, he watched as Umbridge ordered biscuits for the show. Those evil, evil people dare make a light lunch out of his Godfather's execution. He really hoped for a miracle at this point, there was no other option that wouldn't cause serious political consequences, even though Madame Bones looked as if she wanted to arrest her two superiors on the spot. Fudge was smiling again as he coughed and banged a gavel.

"The Wizengamot is now in session for the execution of murderer and Death Eater Sirius Orion Black, who is responsible for the death of the Potters and has escaped Azkaban. According to sources," he smirked pointedly at Harry, "he will emerge from the Veil any minute, and hence will be sentenced to death by a Dementor's Kiss."

Oh Sirius, Harry thought, it's going to take a real miracle to get us out of this one.

Chapter Text

"Are you sure this is going to work?" asked Sirius for about the fifteenth time.

"Yes, Sirius, for the last time I am positivve that wwe wwill arrivve at the other side safely after I connect the Arch to the Vveil, completin the Passage. The only thin I'm concerned about is wwhat might be on the other end." Eridan replied exasperatedly, checking his husktop notes again.

"The Veil Chamber used to be an execution courtroom, before the Unspeakables decided to study it. Of course, that's because everyone thought that the other side of the Veil was, errrr, the other side…" Sirius trailed off nervously, scratching the back of his head.

"I don't understand wwhat you mean by that."

Other side? Of course there was another side, it couldn't just lead to nothing!

"Other Side… you know… the Afterlife?"

"Wwhat's an afterlife?"

"Well, that's where people go when they die. Some call it Heaven, others call it Hell…"

"Oh. That."

"Yeah. That."

They plodded down the stairs in relative silence. Not uncomfortable silence, more of an excited silence because Sirius was going home and Eridan was learning MAGIC and SCIENCE at the exact same time. There was definitely a spring to his step, his face carefully devoid of emotion but his eyes glittering in excitement. He still couldn't believe that he was going to another planet, to learn magic, and study aliens, and to learn magic, and fight a war.

Did he mention learning magic? Maybe just one more time, for good measure.

Sirius lagged behind Eridan, who was surprisingly faster (he's an adult, shouldn't they have more dexterity than this?) than the human (maybe the race as a whole was just evolutionarily weaker?) and panted as the young troll easily made it to the Arch without so much as changing his breathing pattern. Sirius, however, reached the Arch a few seconds later, panting for breath.

"Wow kiddo *huff* you sure *puff* run fast…"

"No, you humans are just sloww."

The human just rolled his eyes at him. Eridan shrugged. The faces you get for being right… Sirius then turned confused and looked around, as if searching for something.

"Hey, wait a second, isn't your Da- Lusus coming with us?" Eridan snorted.

"Of course he is. But wwhat idiot wwould havve his Lusus out wwhere anyone could attack? Not me!"

"So…where is he then?"

"Sylladex."

"Bu-but, he's a living creature!"

"Paradox Space, Sirius, time and space don't exist. It's like bein frozen in place wwithout any drawwbacks."

"So you've…"

"Yes, noww can wwe continue this at a later date? I thought you wanted to go home."

"I do!"

"That's wwhat I thought."

Sirius huffed and Eridan smirked. The young troll stepped up in front of the Arch, whose curtains were as hard as stone.

"You closed it?"

"If wwe wweren't goin there for a wwhile, then wwhat's the point of leavvin it open for anythin to just wwaltz in here?"

"…Point taken."

Eridan's three fingered hands brushed against the stone curtains, watching as the English carvings (which he now understood) fill with violet light before fizzling out again. That led him to a rather insane idea. Placing his hands against the sides of the Arch, Eridan called upon the power he now knew was inside of him, thrumming through his veins, his mind, his very soul, and spoke in a tone that held no room for denial.

"Open."

This time, the light did not disappear. On the contrary, it filled all the letters with and even stringer violet light, so bright it started to look like pure white. The stone curtains melted into slightly tattered, fluttering fabric, but Eridan wasn't going to stop there.

"Reconnect the Passage."

All at once, the inside of the Arch grew bright, the shifting mist beyond it going haywire as the letters began to change, rearrange, and become something else. Eridan closed his eyes as he sensed the surprise and awe practically radiating off Sirius, who took a step back and moved to shield his eyes from the blinding light. Then he heard it. Voices. Clear, concise voices. Some speaking in English, other Alternian, and some in a bastardized version of his mother tongue. Agreements of trade, exchanged between interplanetary species, being made before his ears. A gruff Alternian voice was speaking with aristocric ease, and Eridan realized that this was the voice of his ancestor, Dualscar. Slowly but surely, a ringing sound was coming from the Arch, getting louder and louder until both human and troll could barely stand it.

Then it all went silent, and the light died as if it never had been. Tentatively, Eridan cracked open an eye. The Arch proudly stood, the white mist floating inside it felt more inviting, welcome. Dragging his gaze upwards, the young troll saw in inscriptions had changed, not in context, but in language. It now proudly sported the destination in Alternian, instead of English, and Eridan couldn't help but smile in amazement and pride.

"It's done…wwe can go through…"

Sirius looked as if he were close to tears. The two of them neared the Arch and realized it could only fit one person at a time. One of them would have to go in first. Sirius was about to take the lead, when Eridan's horns picked up something horribly wrong.

COLDFEARDESPAIRHURTPAINHATESORROW

"Sirius don't go in there."

The way Eridan had said this made the human halt in his tracks. When Sirius turned to look at the troll, his earfins were already low and pressed against his head, his pupils tiny vertical slits, and his teeth bared.

"What's wrong?"

Eridan growled lowly.

"There's somethin on the other side…somethin really bad."

So bad, he felt his exoskeleton itching to harden, to protect.

"I'm goin in first. I'll tell you wwhen it's safe to come out."

Without letting Sirius get a word in edgewise, the troll summoned his trusty laser rifle and leapt into the Arch.

Harry was gripping his seat in absolute worry. It was almost time for Sirius to arrive but… was it even safe for him to come back? The Dementors were starting to get even jitterier than they usually were, and were constantly flying towards the face of the Veil before gliding back into their little ring. It was honestly horrifying to watch. Umbridge had ordered some tea to go with the biscuits, and now she and Fudge were making this a tea party. The entertainment? His Godfather's demise. He sighed, and prayed to whatever deity may hear him to grant him this one impossible miracle.

That's when the Veil had started glowing.

It started with the misty, smoky opening, and then reached the stone outer archway and the strange runic inscriptions on it. The people in the room started to scream in surprise at the sudden phenomena. Soon the light grew so bright that they all had to shield their eyes. Harry, quickly thinking, changed his glasses into tinted shades and squinted to see what on Earth was going on. Peering closer, he could see ghostly figures talking. Some of them were wizards and witches talking in English, others were Goblins talking in their native tongue, but the figure that really stood out was the towering figure that looked human, but from what Harry could see had strange horns in the shape of lightning bolts. He spoke in a gruff manner in a language similar to the ones the goblins were speaking. They seemed to be working out some kind of agreement, but before he could get a closer look, Harry was assaulted by a loud ringing noise. The politicians began screaming louder as they held their hands tightly around their ears and had their eyes closed tight.

Then suddenly, it all disappeared.

Murmuring broke out from the crowds. Things like 'What the bloody hell was that?!' and 'This never happened before' and 'I'm not paid enough to deal with this' filled the room. Even the Dementors were momentarily paralyzed by…whatever had just happened and were haltingly floating inside of their usual smooth gliding.

"What just happened?" Harry whispered to Mr. Weasley as he rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't imagining things.

Arthur could only shake his head dumbly and sit stiffly in his seat. Shacklebolt let out a shuddered sigh.

"Nothing like this has ever happened before. Whatever Black has done, it's all completely new."

Everyone started to get back into their seats when someone (Percy) pointed at the Veil.

"Look! The writing's changed!"

Indeed it did. Instead of holding an inscription in a strange runic language, the carvings on the Veil now stated something in clear, concise English.

WarshipHive of Ampora, Isle Dualscar, Alternia

WarshipHive? What in Merlin's name was a WarshipHive? It didn't sound very nice, but if Harry was right, then the Veil must lead to this…Warship Hive. Harry really hoped Sirius knew what he was doing, because there was still no sign of him and the Dementors were back to circling the Veil, if still a little shaky.

Dementors. Shaky. Take Karma you floating corpse things!

Quickly the Patronii were cast again, but after the…weird light show, most couldn't get theirs back up, so Harry cast his own to protect the people in his area. Fudge was red faced in anger, probably because he hadn't expected this either, but Umbridge's mouth was stretched in a sickly sweet grin that looked like she had just soiled herself. Still a little twitchy, Fudge began to bang the gavel again, and told everyone in the chamber that the court was still in session (BE QUIET! BLACK COULD COME AT ANY MOMENT!) before plopping down in his seat with a huff, glaring at Harry, who in turn glared back.

By this point the Dementors had gone back to their little ring, swoop, ring formation, and Harry groaned. He had hoped that the light show would have bore some fruit but apparently nothing much had happened. But who was that strange creature, and what was he doing here?

A low, almost imperceptible growl emanated from the Veil. Harry snapped his head to the fluttering, tattered curtains so fast he almost got whiplash. Apparently the Dementors picked up on it as well, because a few had swooped into the entrance. Fudge took this as a sign that Sirius was coming out, and leaned forward in his seat, a wicked smirk on his face. Harry gripped the edge of his seat, damn those Ministry Policies for taking away his wand…

For a moment, the only sound in the chamber came from the Dementor's frosty breathes as three of them came almost face to face with the edge of the Veil. Oh no, Sirius was doomed the minute he walked out, no one could cast a spell that fast…

Blam.

A beam of pure white light shot out of the Veil, blinding the entire chamber momentarily. What could only be described as the screams of a thousand damned souls pierced their ears as the back wall of the chamber cracked under the pressure. When the light stopped, Harry noticed a small figure standing in front of the Veil. Unfortunately, even with his Seeker eyesight, he could only catch a small violet and blue blur. Whoever this person was, they were fast. It was then that Harry noticed that there were only fifteen Dementors flying around. Looking at the ground, the Gryffindor Seeker spotted the remains of two Dementors, while the rest of the floor was covered with a fine gray ash. Turning his head to the wall, he noted the damage of what the light had done. It was blasted open, debris littered the bottom of the giant hole that now stood there.

The worst part of all this?

Everything the white light had hit, including the Dementor remains, were still smoking.

"Impossible…" Shacklebolt whispered in awe, "Even a blasting curse wouldn't have affected that wall... And the Dementors...how..."

Suddenly it was if someone had hit the panic button. Politicians screamed and ducked under their chairs and the Dementors screeched with an emotion that was never seen in them before.

Fear. Absolute, primal fear.

After all, this was probably the first time anyone, including the Dementors themselves, had seen a Dementor killed. The floating creatures went into a craze, but before they could find their comrades' murderer…

Blam. Blam. Blam.

The moment Eridan jumped through the Arch, he went into military mode. It distanced him from feeling anything, so when he was met with three rotten, ugly faces the second he got to the other side, he fired away.

Blam.

Twenty became Fifteen.

He heard a collective gasp, and ran for cover. As he weaved through the bottom of the place, Eridan surmised from his surroundings that he was in a chamber. Judging from the gavel that sat on the pedestal near a wrinkly, cowering human, the troll also deducted that he was in a Justice Hall, in the middle of the trial. It was then that more of those things started to come after him, so Eridan hardened his exoskeleton and fired again, his aim true.

Blam.

Fifteen became Ten.

A bloodthirsty smile donned his face, not that anyone could see him as he weaved below the pandemonium happening in the seats above him, and aimed again. Time to show them why he was called 'Fish Hitler' by his FLARP peers.

Blam.

Ten became Nine. The creatures started to congregate and scatter wildly, afraid and angry. Eridan pulled the trigger.

Blam.

Nine quickly became Six. Those things like to go in groups don't they? Oh well, easy pickings it is. And here he hoped for some fun…

Blam.

Six became Four, the remainder screeching almost as loud as a seadweller taking in Seaspeak above water. The screaming from the humans above seemed to be competing with these things, should he silence them too?

Blam.

Four became Two. Two very afraid rotten floaty things with tattered garments. Maryam would have flipped her shit if she were here.

Blam.

Two became One. The last remaining one was screeching in sheer terror. His horns could sense the fear emanating off it strongly as he prowled up to it. Seeing itself outnumbered, it backed away. Eridan, however, did not relent. He was genocidal, and genocide meant a specific group targeted and eliminated. Genocide meant cruelty. Genocide meant death.

Genocide meant no survivors.

Backed into a corner, the thing actually whimpered in fright. There was something there that was stronger than it, far more powerful than anything this planet ever had. Eyeless sockets gazed into violet eyes, before it was met with the sight of a white crystal, the glowing white energy gathering in its tip. Eridan pulled the trigger.

Blam.

One became Zero.

What in Merlin's name did he just witness?

Twenty Dementors, all lying dead on the stone floor of the Veil Chamber. Some corpses, some completely turned to ash. No survivors, none, not one. During the last one's demise, Harry caught sight of the person who killed them all, before the room was engulfed in the light of the blue rifle's blast once more. A screech of pure fear, pure terror, and yet it did not reach Harry's heart. He knew the moment it expired, feeling the room warm up a little more, like it was doing as each passing Dementor had dropped.

They were left in total silence after that.

People started to pick themselves up from their hiding places, letting out shuddering breathes and breathing deeply. Harry cast his gaze to Fudge and Umbridge, who were sporting looks of unhidden terror. While he didn't care for what they felt, he could understand. You order twenty Dementors to kill a criminal. They are all blown to ash by something that is most likely not Black and somehow is powerful enough not only to kill Dementors, but blow clear holes in the chamber as well. Though to Harry, it served them right.

All eyes turned to the figure, but since it was far below the seats in the chamber, all they could clearly see was the swishing violet cape and the large dark blue rifle they held. The figure seemed to look around before heading to the Veil's entrance, before sticking their free arm in. When the arm came back out, it was holding the arm of one healthy looking Sirius Black, who was confused yet grinning like a loon.

"Sirius!"

Suddenly the chamber went into an uproar, with some officials (including Fudge and Umbridge, those foul, loathsome, evil cockroaches) firing spells at his Godfather. In the blink of an eye, the mystery person (who, Harry noted, was much shorter than Sirius) blasted his rifle again, causing the ceiling the shudder and start to fall. This was definitely a sign to start leaving, and soon there was a mad rush to get out of the chamber as the stone started to fall from the ceiling, almost crushing a rather unfortunate wizard with puffy robes. Percy also ran out, but not before smiling and giving a wink to his father, Harry, and Kingsley. In the midst of the screaming and fleeing crowds, Amelia Bones briskly walked out, her head held high, nodding curtly at Harry once before making her way out.

The stone ceiling was now shuddering violently, and looked it was about to cave in. Sirius was starting to make his way over to where the three of them were, but the Dementor Killer had waltzed back up to the Veil and reached out for it. One second the Veil was standing there, as imposing as always. The next second, it had disappeared into thin air, as if it never existed in the first place. Harry didn't have time to gape as the ceiling finally started to give way, huge chunks smashing at where the Veil had stood just a few seconds ago. Tugging on a gobsmacked Mr. Weasley, Harry called out.

"Let's get out of here!"

This seemed to wake Kingsley and Arthur from their shocked stupor, and the five of them made their way out just as the rest of the ceiling met the floors with a resounding 'crash, bang, crunch'. Shacklebolt managed to drag them to a safer area, the empty courtroom that was a few doors away from the Veil Chamber that had almost never been used, and placed a few security charms to make sure no one could overhear them this time.

The moment he was assured that they were safe, Sirius engulfed Harry in a bear hug. Crushing? Yes. Welcome? Definitely. Harry let out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.

"I'm so happy you're back…" Sirius chuckled.

"So am I, Prongslet, so am I."

Shacklebolt cleared his throat, and the sentimental moment was over. The two of them broke apart and faced the Auror, who looked like he was trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle.

"If you would mind helping us, Sirius, I want to get some answers. What in Merlin's name did you bring from the other side of the Veil?!"

"I would like to know as well." Mr. Weasley added, "What I just witnessed was…frightening to say the least…" Sirius stared at them, confused.

"So he blew up a couple of walls and the ceiling, James and I did much worse when we were at school!" Harry's eyes widened at this. Did he not see the Dementors?

"…So you didn't…see what happened?" If it were possible, Sirius looked even more confused.

"What do you mean?" Sighing to himself, Harry began to explain.

"Sirius, the Minister had set up an execution for you. Before the weird light show and the whole 'blow up the room' fiasco, there was an ENTIRE SCORE OF DEMENTORS waiting for you to come out!"

"Dementors? I didn't see any Dementors! Scared them off, did you?" Sirius joked, but his smile dropped as he viewed the ashen faces up his Godson and fellow Order members.

"No, Sirius," said Mr. Weasley softly, shaking his head numbly, "They didn't flee. They're dead."

This time it was Sirius who began to pale drastically.

"Dead? But…but…how?!"

"That's what we want to know." explained Shacklebolt.

Silence reigned for a few seconds between the four frightened wizards before a voice rang out from the corner. A vaguely high pitched accented voice, one that that Harry had never heard before, spoke in a vaguely curious yet slightly miffed manner.

"Is there a problem wwith them bein dead? Forgivve me, but they didn't seem like somethin wworth savvin. Wwere they endangered to your planet or somethin?"

All at once, four heads whipped to the source of the sound. What Harry saw was the strangest sight of his life. Grey skin (no, not skin, there was some sort of natural armor there) with fins and sharp teeth. The creature had the same horns as the one during the Veil's light show, and Harry figured that the similarity was enough for them to be related in some way. However, his clothes were definitely more muggle, even though the cape was a little over the top, and he even had a pair of black hipster framed glasses. And one thing was for sure, this creature was either a short adult or very young. The way it carried itself had Harry leaning towards the former, but it had a youthful face, like a child's.

Sirius scratched the back of his head in an apologetic manner.

"Ah…sorry…I forgot in the excitement that you went through first." The creature huffed at that.

"You still didn't answwer my question. Wwhat is so bad about killin these 'Dementors'?"

"Well...errr...what's the best way to put it? Oh yeah. Kiddo, one does not simply KILL a Dementor." The creature put his hands on his hips, leaned forward and sneered, exposing his sharp teeth.

"Wwell, wwhy not? They wwere there to kill you, wwhy not revverse the roles?" To break up what was looking to be a rather long argument, Harry coughed into his hand.

"Erm…sorry…but who are you?" Harry asked, making Sirius stiffen and jump into action.

"Right. Eridan, this is Kingsley Shacklebolt, he's a Member of the Order and a right good Auror too…you remember what those are right? Brilliant! This is Arthur Weasley, he's also a Member of the Order, his youngest child, Ginny, is about a year older than you. And this, this is my Godson, Harry Potter."

He then turned to the three of them.

"Right. This is Eridan Ampora. He's the little alien bugger I've been telling you about. He's from a planet called Alternia, which is completely different from Earth, and he's here to learn Magic, Earth Culture, and help fight old Snake Face."

Eridan extended his hand to them.

"A pleasure to meet you." Eridan scrutinized Kingsley, "Why do you have a different skin pigment than the others?" Sirius facepalmed.

"Right. Earth lesson one. Humans had different skin colors, kinda like you Trolls have different blood colors."

"Oh…"

"Trolls? Blood colors? It will be an experience working with you!" Mr. Weasley said brightly as the two shook hands, before noticing Eridan's strange hand structure, "Merlin, three fingers and a thumb…claws…fascinating…"

"Says the creature wwith an extra digit on each hand…" Eridan retorted with humor before turning to Harry and smiling.

His eyes then traveled up towards his scar and his demeanor changed.

What used to be normal, circular pupils thinned into frightening vertical slits. The fins on the sides of his head lowered and flattened towards his skull. Black lips pulled back to show the extra row of sharp teeth as the alien actually started to growl at him. Then the same rifle that he killed the Dementors with appeared out of thin air, into his hands. Soon Harry found himself face to face with the glowing crystal that was ready to blow him into ashes.

"E-Eridan? What's going on?"

So humans have different hair colors and skin colors? Curious, and all so fascinating! Eridan turned to greet the third and, according to Sirius, the most important individual. Harry Potter, his Godson. Physically, if you took away the difference of age and race, he and the human teen did not look all that different, except Harry had a lightening shaped scar…

The moment his eyes came in contact with the scar, his horns went haywire once more. As he peered closer and closer, the figure before his started to distort as his eyes picked up the malicious thing inside.

HATEANGERKILLMAIMDESTROYTORTURE

Blood red eyes that held an anger and hatred that not even Karkat (what a softie on the inside) possessed, bone white skin and a smile that Eridan had only seen in the mirror. But the aura coming from this abomination in waves was suffocating, because its very existence was wrong. It sent him back on guard.

"Parasite…"

His earfins twitched as he heard it whisper back, speaking of 'mudbloods' and 'traitors' which would have been understandable but this was a Parasite.

He's heard of these things, if only in story. Some lowbloods from the ancient Rebellion days, prolonging their 'life' by attempting to split their souls and using the split parts as anchors to the mortal realm. Weak, cowardly trolls, who latched parts of their very essence into objects using their psychic abilities. Worse yet, there were those that latched the pieces onto highbloods, absorbing their vessel's own life essence as nourishment.

Those were dark times on Alternia. One that is never mentioned except in old, archaic books.

How did a human manage to create a Parasite? And why? The knowledge of how to create one was practically wiped off the planet millions of sweeps ago! Not only that, but the Empress before Her Imperious Condescension had all written knowledge of those things burned. Anyone holding any knowledge of the Parasites were culled on site, Hemospectrum be damned. With is why Eridan never talked about the tome that lied inside his library, the one he opened once and never did again.

His fingers twitched, and soon the comforting presence of Ahab's Crosshairs materialized into his hands. Eridan lifted the nozzle, taking aim. Killing it was all he could think of.

Kill…kill the Parasite…

"E-Eridan? What's going on?"

Eridan snapped out of his murderous trance, his pupils rounding as he recapchalogged his rifle and stared into the fearful emerald eyes of Harry Potter, who was pale with fear.

"Are you awware there is a Parasite residin in your head?" he asked bluntly, pointing at the scar that he refused to look at again.

"Parasite? In my scar?"

"I shall take that as a 'no' then. Howw humans managed to create those abominations is beyond me." Eridan glared at the ground with crossed arms, resisting the temptation to see it again.

"Wha…?"

"Looks like you know something we don't kid, but I think it'll be better to explain it to all of us at once. Back to headquarters then?" Sirius asked meekly, trying to break the tension.

Arthur Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt were standing there, pale and afraid, glancing at Eridan as if he were the monster.

Well, he was a monster according to Sirius' human morality, but that's not the point!

"Sirius, no offense, but this…alien...troll…killed twenty Dementors without even trying and just pulled his weapon on Harry. Is he really safe enough to bring into the Order?"

"If you can bear a Parasite and its vvessel, you can handle me." Eridan deadpanned.

"Look, I don't know what the bloody hell you're talking about, but how about the two of us make a deal, okay? I don't attack you, you don't attack me. What do you say?" sighed Harry, who tentatively held his hand out to the young troll.

"Sounds fair. Wwe havve a deal, Harry." he replied, taking the hand.

Their eyes met, and each of them saw the other reflected inside. Two damaged souls pushed into a society of War. While there were striking differences both physically and mentally, there was definitely some crushing similarities that couldn't be ignored. And in these parts one can find understanding in the other, and right now, if there was truly a War raging on this wretched planet, then right now understanding is what they needed. Eridan hoped they could get past the differences first, as he could see he was going to have a problem helping the humans see his point of view. Harry in particular may be more receptive, but his human morality might stop him from doing certain things that Eridan would have done without missing a beat.

They both looked down for a moment, each of them in their own thoughts and musings. Suddenly, a clatter of objects fell to the floor, and Eridan and Harry immediately knelt down on the floor, yelling simultaneously in frustration.

"Argh! My glasses!"

Well, there was one similarity that couldn't be ignored. See? Progress.

Eridan's little outburst shook Sirius up a bit, along with the fact that the kid actually managed to kill a score of Dementors without batting an eye, but both his Godson and his alien friend already were trying to find common ground. There was quite a bit, even physically with the glasses and the raven black hair and the lightening shaped objects on their heads, but Sirius still had that niggling feeling that Harry was not who Eridan reminded the dog animagus of. It was there, in the back of his mind, and as the five of them were beginning to leave their little hideaway, the troll took one look and smirked, bloody smirked at him and mouthed out 'suppressed memory'.

This caused Sirius to sigh and shake his head. No matter how frightening Eridan can be sometimes with his foreign troll violence, he was still a little kid. A snarky, sarcastic, genocidal, bloodthirsty little kid, but a little kid nonetheless.

However, he was also an alien little kid. While Sirius could walk on a muggle street and not be cast a second glance, Eridan would attract attention for sure. After all, he's not really something you would see every day, and the last thing they needed while getting back to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was unwanted attention. Sirius thought for a minute. Well, he didn't know if Disillusioning would be such a good thing, as he could easy lose track of the fast little alien bugger…

"Harry, do you have your Cloak on you?"

"Yeah, I always keep it on me in case of emergency. Why do you ask?"

"What do you think people will say about a grey-skinned, horned child with a big cape walking down the street in the middle of London?"

"…Point taken."

Harry took out his Invisibility Cloak from his jacket pocket and carefully presented it to Eridan, whose eyes had lighted up and were practically twinkling like Dumbledore's from the excitement. His hands shivered as he took the silvery fabric.

"It almost feel like the surface of the ocean…amazin…" Eridan's hands lightly stroked the hems.

"It's my Invisibility Cloak, it used to belong to my dad." Harry was a little uncomfortable saying the last half of the sentence, but the troll just inclined his head.

"Fascinatin. Can I ask about it later?" At this, Harry shrugged.

"Sure, I guess." If it were possible, Eridan looked even more excited.

"Wwonderful."

The small alien wrapped the cloak around himself, carefully making sure that the sharp tips of his claws and horns didn't catch on the fabric. Quickly, Sirius took his now-invisible hand to make sure he wasn't going anywhere. Arthur pulled out an old shoe.

"This Portkey will get us a block from home. Ready?" They each took hold of a part of the shoe.

"Eridan, please hold onto the shoe, it'll feel a little weird while travelling, but you have to make sure to not let go until I say so, okay?"

"Wwe are usin a shoe to do wwhat, exactly?"

"Well, humans don't have your Transporto-thingys so you're going to have to deal with a Portkey. I think Remus would be more than happy to explain to you what it is, but for now just do as I say, okay?"

"Vvery wwell."

Well, that went better than expected, since Sirius was certain Eridan was not the type of person to take orders from anyone. Maybe it was the excitement of learning all this new stuff. Seemed likely enough.

"Alright everyone, hold on tight!"

And they were off.

Chapter Text

"Alright everyone, hold on tight!"

As soon as Arthur Weasley said this, Eridan felt a tug at the center of his stomach, as if someone was trying to hook into his gut with some sort of energy. Soon he felt himself being pulled by his stomach as the world around him spun, changing faster than he could watch. He had an iron grip on both the Cloak and the shoe, momentarily letting go of Sirius's hand. Though he felt the rockiness of the ride he did not feel sick - sweeps of seafaring would do that to a person. Instead, his unhindered-by-spinning-transportation-device mind ('always be on guard' rang through his mind from all those sweeps of playing FLARP) marveled at the sights and sounds and colors that were changing around him. He hazarded a glance at his human travel buddies, and smirked when he saw that their faces had varying levels of discomfort written all over them.

With a burst of energy, they landed in a trash-infested area between two concrete dwellings, which was probably an alleyway, but it was so DIRTY. Newspapers littered the streets, as well as odd bits of glass, and the place smelled faintly of uncleaned biological waste byproduct. It was absolutely despicable, Eridan thought, to see a habitat so uncared for by its inhabitants. Anyone on Alternia caught dirtying a city was culled on the spot, and Eridan was beginning to think that maybe the culling method wasn't so bad after all, if this species had this level of disrespect for their own habitat. The troll wrinkled his nose at the thought, unseen by the others as he was still under the Invisibility Cloak.

"Is everyone alright?" came the voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Yeah, I think so." said the voice of the Parasite ves- Harry.

"Right as rain over here!" came the relatively chipper voice of Arthur Weasley.

"No problem here…Eridan you can let go of the shoe now." Sirius said, his eyes passing over the invisible troll a couple of times before watching as the shoe dropped like dead weight before his eyes.

"Are wwe just goin to…leavve the shoe here?" Eridan asked quietly, earning several strange faces and a shrug from Sirius.

"Yeah. Also hold onto me, I don't want to lose you…Thank you. Now, the shoe isn't a portkey anymore, so we can just leave it without causing someone to randomly transport somewhere."

"I understand that but…you wwould just…litter?" Harry snorted at his answer.

"You killed twenty Dementors and you're worried about some street rubbish?"

"Yes. Because this kind of offense wwould get you culled back home." Sirius paled at his words.

"Culled? For…littering?"

"Wwhere they stood, usually. It's an offense to desecrate one's owwn habitat."

"I don't understand what he's talking about…" Harry muttered.

"Let's talk about this after we get back to headquarters. Eridan, make sure the Cloak stays on, we don't want anyone to see you." said Shacklebolt.

A pat was all Eridan did to signal that he had understood. The five of them walked in a tight group, and the violet blood marveled at how obscure human society was. Other than the fact that the place was absolutely filthy, the buildings themselves were rather surreal. Windows had only four panes in a square or rectangular shape, and the shops held vibrant colors of all shades, obviously they did not have a Hemospectrum to control what color were and were no allowed to be displayed. Benches that were most certainly made of wood grew in a naturally brown color, and the trees he had passed had barks that were of the same shade. Eridan marveled at the leaves, which were a kaleidoscope of colors. Some were a deep green, while others were turning yellow and red and brown, falling to the ground at the gentlest of winds.

Watching the pedestrians, Eridan tried to grasp the social hierarchy, but he could find no sense. They all bled the same color, and yet the troll witnessed as shabby humans begged for money, for food, for shelter (couldn't they occupy an empty hive?). Eridan thought skin color might have had something to do with it, but that too was proven wrong.

Though whatever society they have created for themselves aside, the young troll had to admit, humans were a fascinating species biologically. Their eyes never matched the color of their blood, with browns, hazels, blues, greens, silvers, and yet they were not as glowing bright like a trolls. Hair was naturally seen in not only the raven black of a troll's, but also in shades of brown and yellow, while some human dyed their hair artificially into another color altogether. They relied purely on intuition to help them through trials that trolls could do in a heartbeat because of the addition of horns.

As they passed a couple more buildings, Arthur Weasley remarked that they were almost there. Eridan patted his response absentmindedly as he continued to survey his surroundings.

What made the place more surreal was how many…adults were there. Growing up on a planet that never had any fully grown members of one's species made seeing so many just walking around an interesting experience. They were everywhere, some even with small wrigglers (children?) in their arms or holding hands. The small humans looked so…ignorant of the world around them, as they were led by their older counterparts everywhere they went. Eridan watched as one small human waddled to the side of the street, only to be snatched up and scolded by his adult human Lusus. No sense of one's surroundings, were human wrigglers really that weak and absentminded? Was it their seemingly sheltered lifestyle that made them like this? The troll looked back at the struggling child in her custodian's arms. What was worse? Raised to be a soldier as soon as one was hatched, or coddled into oblivion? Were the rules they implemented themselves by their own society weakening humans as a race? Eridan couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like, born and raised as a human. How different would he have been, how would he have perceived the world…from a human's point of view? Human morality was a strange concept, one that Eridan wasn't sure he'll be able to understand, simply because the conditions of both planets were drastically different.

Eridan's fins twitched as he felt the human's apprehension and expectant auras rise. They must have arrived at their headquarters for the vigilante group that Sirius was a part of, the Order of the Flaming Cluckbeast…Phoenix. The four humans and troll stopped in front of a decrepit hive complex, before Kingsley handed the seadweller a note in the same hide material that he had found in the pockets of those skeletons.

"Read quickly and memorize."

Nodding, Eridan's eyes scanned the note.

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

Grimmauld Place huh? What kind of a- oh. Grimmauld Place. Grim old place. Ha ha. Very funny. It seems humans had an odd sense of humor, one that required naming their homes as puns. Eridan rolled his eyes underneath the Cloak and handed the note back to Shacklebolt, who used his wand to light it on fire. The troll grinned at the display of magic, unseen by his human companions.

"Now, think about what you've just memorized."

Eridan looked to one building. Number eleven. He looked to the one next to it. Number thirteen. So number twelve would be…in between? A battered door emerged out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed swiftly by dirty walls and grimy windows. It pushed between the two walls that were once connected to each other, the inhabitants of numbers thirteen and eleven not even noticing the movement. In a couple of seconds, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was now standing in front of the group in all its…dilapidated glory. The front door's black paint was shabby and scratched, and the silver door knocker was in the form of a twisted serpent. Every single brick seemed to be covered in grime and mold.

For once, however, Eridan ignored the sorry state of which the house appeared to be in, focusing more on the fact that it was a MAGIC house that just MAGICALLY appeared when he thought the address. This was it, it was really happening. Eridan had gone to another planet, and he was going to study and learn about the one thing he was always looking for, no matter how many trolls discouraged him of its nonexistence. Magic was real, and he just saw it right before his eyes. He was going to see other wizards and even get to fight in a war. This was the best opportunity the troll could have ever hoped for. Oh, the possibilities…

It was a good thing he was under the Cloak, or else the humans around him would have been frightened of the sharp-toothed grin that his face was donning, as well as the gleam in his eyes.

Harry felt a shiver run down his spine, and stared in the general area of where he knew the alien was hiding under his Invisibility Cloak. An alien that was a particularly dangerous individual. What were they called again? Trolls, right? How funny, Eridan looked and acted nothing like the Troll he fought against during his first year at Hogwarts. He was too small, too intellectual, too refined. The alien spoke with an eloquence and callousness he had only heard from one other person, while normal Earth Trolls just grunted and wandered. If one were to compare the two, they would see drastic differences. While the first Troll was larger, had more muscle mass and was undeniably smelly and difficult to fight, Eridan posed a much larger threat to the average wizard. The bloody sod killed twenty Dementors and practically yawned about it! But, at first sight, Eridan was just a kid. Nothing like the effect meeting an Earth Troll would have. If Hermione and Ron and even Dumbledore were to find out that Sirius had brought home a Troll, things would go downhill really fast simply because of their image of a pre-existing creature with the same species name.

A sudden idea popped inside the Boy Who Lived mind, and he weaved over to where he knew Eridan was standing. Putting his palms together, Harry whispered to the troll, not knowing if the alien troll had better hearing than a humans or not.

"Hey, Eridan. Do you mind doing a little favor for me?" He didn't need to see the troll to know that the bloke was raising a single eyebrow.

"And wwhat wwould the favvor be, exactly?"

"Don't take off the Cloak when we go inside. Stay hidden."

"Wwhy should I?"

"Well you see, here on Earth we have creatures called Trolls as well. They're nothing like you though. Big and stupid and smelly. So I was thinking, if I announced that Sirius brought a Troll home, the rest of the Order would go nuts, because they would think you were like an Earth Troll."

"You wwant me to stay hidden just so you can cause chaos wwithin your group? Wwhat havve they done to incur such wwrath?"

"They didn't tell me anything while I was left to rot at my relative's place for 'safety's sake'. Dumbledore is avoiding me and won't tell me what's wrong. People are looking to me as some sort of secret weapon that must be kept safe at all costs, and yet everyone wants to keep me in the dark about a war I know I need to fight. That's what they did."

"That's despicable. In a wwar, no information can be wwithheld. It costs livves, and it costs chances. Alright, I'll stay under here, as long as you let me help you wwith your wwar. If wwhat I'vve gathered from both Sirius and yourself are correct, they'll put me under the same treatment that you are gettin."

"You've got yourself a deal."

Harry nodded to Eridan before they were ushered into the Order's Headquarters. As Sirius, Kingsley, and Arthur moved ahead to speak with the rest of the Order, Harry held his arm out, signaling for Eridan to stop where he was, just behind the door to the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, Harry went inside and observed from the side, waiting for someone to notice his presence.

He watched as Sirius walked into the kitchen, and was engulfed in a hug by Remus, who had tears of joy in his eyes.

"Welcome home, Padfoot." Sirius patted Remus on the back.

"It's good to be home, Moony."

When they broke the hug, the Order took it as their cue to sit the poor dog animagus down for an interrogation. Harry decided at this point to spare his Godfather the barrage of questions that Moody would most definitely be firing (haha, gun joke near a rifle carrying, Dementor killing alien…) and coughed softly into his hand.

Immediately he felt himself being hugged from a rather frazzled Hermione, an expectant Ron, a serene Luna, a grinning Ginny, a smiling Neville, and a cackling Fred and George.

"So? What's the verdict?" asked Neville.

"Cleared of all charges!" replied Harry, beaming.

They all let out a simultaneous whoop, except for Hermione who breathed out a sigh of relief, and Luna who just gave Harry another one of her faraway smiles.

"I knew it!" yelled Ron, punching the air. "You always get away with stuff!"

"They were bound to clear you," said Hermione, "There was no case against you, none at all…"

"Everyone seems quite relieved, though, considering they all knew I'd get off," said Harry, grinning like a loon.

Fred, George, Neville and Ginny began a kind of war dance and chanted over and over.

"Harry got off, Harry got off, Sirius is back and Harry got off!"

Harry couldn't help but grin wider at his friend's antics, while the rest of the Order, Molly Weasley especially, tried to calm them down. But this was to no avail, the four of them would not stop their chanting, and soon enough Ron and Luna had joined their circle of war dancing as well, chanting.

This seemed to cause the rest of the Order to groan, but Harry cast a sidelong glance at Sirius, Shacklebolt and Mr. Weasley. Their faces were contorted into expressions of confusion as their eyes darted everywhere. Ah, they must be looking for Eridan.

Speaking of which…

Harry cleared his throat. Instantly his friends stopped in their war dance mid-step, and froze in place where they were. The adults in the room stared at him expectantly, and the three adults that had been with Harry in the Ministry glanced at him nervously.

"Everyone, I have some interesting news for you all! It is not about my trial, but about the mock trial Fudge tried to hold for Sirius as he came back through the Veil!"

Murmurs broke out amongst the adults of the Order, but Hermione was having none of that, knowing her magnet-for-trouble friend well enough to know when he was building up to something.

"Harry…what happened…" was all she could sigh out.

"I'm glad you asked Hermione!" Harry said with a smile, earning groans from his friends at his falsely 'cheery' attitude which he only used when talking about something highly dangerous in a light tone.

"Fudge and his toady crony named Umbridge decided to hold an execution for Sirius after they got wind of his arrival. They sent in twenty Dementors to do their dirty work, but something came out of the Veil first! Before anyone knew it, all the Dementors were dead, and the walls of the chamber were crumbling. The news is, a Troll came out from the Veil, and it killed the Dementors like it was nothing! And do you know what else? It's in the house. Right now!"

For a few seconds, everyone was completely silent. Harry held a triumphant smirk on his face, while Sirius and the others' faces were incredibly pale. The rest of the Order looked to them for validation, and the faces of everyone in the room, sans Harry, turned a rather watery grey color as the three of them stiffly nodded. Sirius was shooting Harry looks of 'what were you thinking' and 'well if you put it that way' while Shacklebolt and Mr. Weasley mirrored each other's expressions of 'dear Merlin what have we done'.

Moody stood up from his seat in the kitchen.

"Well, we better get to finding the Troll that is now loose in the headquarters. Everyone split up and look for it, and remember, CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

At once everyone split up into groups, frantically looking for a Troll. When Harry went to 'help', he found himself ushered, along with the rest of his friends, into his shared bedroom by Mrs. Weasley.

"Mrs. Weasley, it'll be fine! Hermione, Ron and I defeated a Troll back in first year!"

"You shouldn't have had to! So you children are staying in here, where it's safe while we find that dangerous Troll!"

Before Harry could say another word, Mrs. Weasley shut the door behind her, set up a temporary Anti-Apparation Ward (much to the Twins' chagrin), and locked the door from the outside. Hermione took out her wand and tried to undo it, but it was no use, they were stuck in here. They all heaved a sigh.

"I wish they wouldn't treat us like little kids, we can take care of ourselves…"

"Harry, you were serious about the Troll, right?" asked Ron apprehensively.

"Yeah, kind of. But the Troll they're trying to find is much smarter than any Troll on Earth."

"Then they're going…" started Fred.

"To have difficulty finding it." finished George.

"We should be out there, helping!" shouted Ginny, pumping her fist in the air.

"Well, he isn't much of a threat to me now. He's kind of nice, actually."

"You talked to the Troll?" questioned an incredulous Hermione.

"He's an alien, Hermione, their race is just called Trolls. They're more like us than they are like the Trolls here."

"Huh…I wonder what this Troll is like then. I'm kind of hoping that they won't find him now." murmured Neville.

"I think we'll all be the best of friends." said Luna.

"Yeah, that's if we can find the Troll in the first place!" exclaimed Ron indignantly, "How can we find him if we're stuck in here?"

"Simple," remarked a rather familiar voice, "I'm stuck in here wwith you."

Watching underneath the Cloak, Eridan scrutinized the members of the so-called Order of the Phoenix. Naturally, he assumed that because this was not an official meeting, not all the members were actually present. Still, what he saw was a little disappointing.

There was a man sitting in one of the chairs who seemed like he didn't really want to be there, and had an aura of cowardice. It was obvious that he wouldn't last three seconds on Alternia, even though he was a full grown adult. Then there was the woman, a little round but had a very caring face. Her hair was bright red, and by the way she and Arthur Weasley were looking at each other, she was most likely the man's Matesprit. An aura of worry and care and…something very foreign oozed out of her, and Eridan's horns tried to pinpoint this strange new emotion.

There was another, much older man sitting at the end of the table, his face was scarred, burnt, and disfigured even among humans. A cobalt eyeball that was hooked onto a patch was held in place over where Eridan assumed the older adult had lost an eye whizzed in its socket, always searching its surrounding. He excreted an overpowering aura of paranoia, and yet his outside visage was rather calm. This man was definitely the oldest one in the room, and the most likely to survive Alternia's harsher conditions. He could probably live there relatively easy, Eridan mused, though for how long was the question.

The last unknown human adult was embracing Sirius in a hug. Were they Moirails? They certainly acted like it. Eridan's fins twitched as his horns picked up the aura of this one. He must be the human that could turn into a snarlbeast. What were they called? Werewolves? Either way, even if he could turn into a vicious beast for one night every month, the man didn't look very aggressive at all. Eridan still put him on his mental watch list anyways, just to be safe.

Then there were the younger humans, closer to his age.

The two older ones were honestly starting to creep him out. Why? They were almost completely identical. It was at this point that Eridan had to remind himself that humans were, in fact, mammals. Mammals have the ability to birth children on their own, so they could have multiple offspring from the same birthgiver. Unlike trolls, who hatch from eggs and are therefore completely individual, mammal offspring contain similarities from both their male and female birth counter parts called siblings. There was also a phenomenon where there could be identical siblings which came out of the birther in the same day. This phenomena was currently being exemplified by the chanting twins dancing in a circle. Looking closer, Eridan could make out differences between the two, mostly because the freckle patterns near the bridge of their noses were not identical, one had a distinct congregation of dots near the bridge of his nose while the other had a more scattered pattern all across the midsection of his face. These differences, however, were not very visible if you didn't look for it, as it was easy to just get confused in their frighteningly good synchronization.

The two remaining red haired children must be the twins' siblings, one boy and a slightly younger girl. While they weren't identical, there were definitely similarities. The girl danced with her twin brothers, chanting the same things over and over again. Eridan watched amused as her not-twin brother joined them as well, along with a round faced boy who was broadly grinning and a blonde haired girl with the faraway look. A frazzled brunette with messy hair that reminded Eridan of his bubbly Moirail seemed to sigh at these antics. Even so, it was obvious she was relieved at the verdict given of Harry's trial outcome.

Eridan hazarded a glance at the two humans (that weren't Sirius) that escorted him to this place. Their eyes were darting everywhere, were they trying to find him? How thoughtful, but he wasn't coming out from under this just yet. Harry turned around with a brief smirk that only the troll saw as he cleared his throat. The violet blooded thirteen year old watched with a raised eyebrow as he began to describe him in the worst light he probably could think of. Internally, Eridan snorted. From what he could gather, these Earth trolls were more annoying nuisances than they were an actual threat, at least from his point of view. An Alternian troll, never mind Eridan himself, was a far greater threat to humanity than some bumbling giant beast with the same species name.

The humans in the room, however, did not share this sentiment. Eridan felt their fear and horror come off of them in waves, and clamped his mouth shut to prevent himself from laughing aloud as he regarded all their faces. The blood drained from their faces as each human in the room, sans the strange blonde haired girl and the scarred old human with the whizzing eye, stared at Harry with horror written all over their faces. Personally, it was completely hilarious.

The whizzing eye man stood up and barked some orders. There was a flurry of movement as each human began to search for him. Weaving his way into the kitchen without bumping into anything, Eridan watched as the younger humans were herded into a room up the stairs. The small troll soundlessly followed after, curious what was going on. He slipped into the room in between the haggard girl and a protesting Harry. Looking around, Eridan saw some strange furniture including quite a few wooden fixtures that held some sort of strange, springy objects with large pieces of fabric draped on top. Noticing some of the humans flopping onto them with a huff, the troll surmised that these things must be those recupracoon replacements that Sirius called 'beds'. Silently, Eridan leaned against the far wall as the older red haired woman told them to stay put 'where it was safe' while they looked for a 'dangerous troll'. He really wanted to laugh at the irony of all these children locked in the same room as said troll.

Silly, silly humans.

Eridan watched them banter for a while, until the younger red headed boy threw up his hands in exasperation.

"Yeah, that's if we can find the Troll in the first place! How can we find him if we're stuck in here?"

Well, now was the best time to reveal himself, he supposed.

"Simple, I'm stuck in here wwith you."

His words were like an electric shock as every head there turned to the space which he occupied. Eridan's horns picked up the shock, surprise and even a dash of fear and excitement amongst the human children. Harry slowly approached him, a smile on his face.

"Eridan? How did you get in here?" He snorted, much to the surprise of the other children in the room.

"I followwed you, and slipped in wwhile you wwere fightin wwith the older red haired lady. I'm startin to think that this coddlin is wwhat makes your race wweak."

"Hey!" the red haired girl shouted, indignant.

"Oh the irony," said the brown haired, round faced boy, "We were put in here to be safe from the troll, and now we're trapped in here with said troll."

"How are you invisible? Are you under a Disillusion Charm? What do you look like? How are trolls this smart?" the bushy haired girl fired at a breakneck pace.

"Hermione breathe!" shouted the younger red head, and the newly named Hermione snapped her jaw shut immediately as her face turned a bright red.

"Relax, Ron, she's just excited." the round faced boy said, laughing, and soon the newly named Ron followed Hermione's lead and his face turned as bright of a red as his hair.

Harry held out his hand to Eridan.

"Speaking of which, can I have my Cloak back?"

"Of course."

Eridan shrugged off the Cloak and heard a collective gasp. Each of them was looking at him with wide eyes as he handed over the Cloak back to its rightful owner. He turned to address them and cleared his throat.

"Ah, yes, greetins. I am Eridan Ampora, a troll from the planet Alternia. The Archwway wwhich you humans called the Vveil lead to a passagewway to my home planet, underneath my hivve. I accompanied your comrade Sirius to Earth to learn about humans and their culture, and of course, to learn magic. Pleased to meet you."

He held out his hand but everyone was too shocked to take it. They merely stared at him as they took in his appearance. Harry, who had walked to stand next to the troll, was grinning widely.

Ron's female sibling then put both hands over her mouth as that familiar foreign emotion, the same one coming from her birthgiver, came off of her. Soon Hermione and the blonde girl shared the same aura. It was Eridan's turn to get confused. Why were they not scared? What was this emotion?

Why were they staring at him like a Lusus would its new wriggler?

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaw!" the females said simultaneously.

Suddenly he felt himself engulfed on all sides by not only the girls, but the twins as well.

"He's like…" said the scattered freckled twin.

"An ickle firstie!" finished the nose freckled twin.

"Or, you know, Harry in his third year." Ron quipped, smirking.

"Oi!"

"It's true. You've always looked younger than you really were. Back in first year I would have pegged you for a nine year old." The round faced boy shrugged.

"He's so cute!" said the blonde girl, smiling serenely as she pinched his cheek.

"Aw look at his big eyes, how could you say no?" the red haired girl said in a strange voice.

What was going on?

Unfortunately, his confused expression only made them coo louder as they hugged him close, sometimes rocking him.

"Harry…Wwhat. Is. Goin. On."

"Well, from the looks of it, they have thrown out the fact that you are a dangerous person and only see the little alien kid that you are. You, my friend, are being coddled. Welcome to Earth, Eridan."

"Hey look at these horns! They kind of look like your scar Harry!" Ron exclaimed, and began to move to touch them.

Eridan's hand shifted quickly and his fingers clasped around the boy's wrist.

"Don't touch my horns." was the curt order, to which Ron pulled his hand back and frowned.

"Why not?" he asked, confused.

"They're…sensitivve. Just. Don't." Eridan ground out, his cheeks coloring violet.

"Okay, got it. No touching the horns." placated Ron.

"Or the fins." added the troll.

"Or the fins…fins?!"

They're eyes wandered to his earfins, which he flapped a little to show them that yes, he had fins attached to his ears. This just made the twins coo at him.

"Aw!" said one, putting both hands on his cheeks.

"He's just a…" said the other, mirroring his twin.

"Cute…"

"Wittle…"

"Mermaid!" they finished together.

"Except he killed twenty Dementors." Harry supplied.

"Oh, come on Harry, look at him! He seems harmless enough!" Hermione tutted.

"Yeah, I don't see the dangerous Dementor killer anywhere here." Ron added.

Eridan's eye twitched. Never in his life has he ever been in such a situation where he was considered 'harmless'. He was Eridan fucking Ampora for Empress's sake, the feared Lusii killer, Fish Hitler, the descendant of the dreaded Orphaner Dualscar. No one (other than Fef, of course) has ever called him cute.

He didn't like this in the slightest.

Slowly he backed away from the humans, who displayed their confusion. Blinking at them slowly, once, twice, three times, Eridan wondered what he could do to regain his fearsome image. Killing or maiming was out of the question, since he was supposed to be fighting alongside them in this war against a sociopathic, genocidal maniac…

Oh wait, he was one of those as well.

This gave him a sudden idea. Flaring his earfins, Eridan widened his eyes, his pupils turning into narrow slits as he grinned in a fashion that he usually only reserved for FLARP games. You know, the 'I'm going to kill you slowly, painfully as you watch your loved ones being tortured and I laugh and have myself another cookie' smile and the 'I'm totally going to burn down this village and enjoy it' grin. Because of the nature of said grin, Eridan's interlocking narrow sharp teeth came on display.

The looks of horror at this brought joy to his blood pusher.

Harry just rolled his eyes at the Troll, considering that he witnessed Eridan doing much worse than just smiling like a psychopath.

"You know, you smile the same way Lord Noseless does." Everybody nodded at this with pale faces.

Eridan's face changed back into his blank frown, rolling his yellow and violet eyes.

"Wwell I wwasn't exactly the epitome of kindness myself." the Troll said with a shrug.

"Yeah but you don't kill people for the sake of killing, or because you think that one type of person is lesser than another!" Ginny exclaimed.

Eridan only raised an eyebrow at this. Was he implying that…?

"Wwanna bet?"

There was a few seconds of uncomfortable silence after that, which was broken by Eridan.

"Gettin worked up ovver killin. Humans are strange…"

Those words didn't really comfort Harry very much, neither did the other snippets of where Eridan came from did. It seemed really harsh, Spartan even, and the Boy Who Lived wondered what it was really like to live in a place like that? Earth wasn't the nicest place, but could the place Eridan came from be worse?

"Hey Eridan, if you think it's weird for us to be worked up over killing people, how do Trolls react? What was it like living on your home planet?"

The way the Troll's eyes brightened when he said that made Eridan really looked like a little kid that was just asked if they wanted to talk about the drawing they made. He walked over to the bed and sat on it, and to everyone's amusement bounced on it a few times (something told Harry that he had never seen a bed before) before turning to them. Eridan suddenly stared down at them with a smirk.

"Alright, get comfy evveryone. I'm goin to tell you about life on Alternia. If you havve any questions, wwait until the end of a section, I don't wwant to lose track of the tale. Noww…"

Harry didn't know how long they were there, locked in his shared room with his friends and a genocidal fish troll, but frankly he didn't care. The world that Eridan described was in equal counts amazing, bizarre and horrifying. At regular intervals Hermione would ask questions, and sometimes conversation would become philosophical and scientific as they each hashed out the similarities and differences between Alternia and Earth.

Luna seemed to get a kick out of the fact it had two moons, with one moon having its own moon as well. Ron listened in a rapt attention Harry didn't even know he was capable of at the stories of wars and battle tactics (though looking back, battle tactics and chess tactics worked hand in hand in a lot of situations), and even remarked on a few decisions made. For some reason, Eridan was grinning widely as he and Ron discussed this and everyone, including (to Harry's surprise) Hermione, had no idea what the two were talking about. Neville marveled at the descriptions of jade green grass and entire forests of blue trees and magenta leaves.

Fred and George bounced excitedly as Eridan recounted his friends, and trying to think up of their own 'identification symbols'. This actually lead to Hermione asking suspiciously about Eridan's friend's identification symbol, and after he recounted them all, held up a slip of paper that showed the twelve signs of the zodiac. Ginny found it funny that their friendship was already written in the stars for thousands of years, with Luna readily agreeing in her own, strange way.

Harry himself absorbed the ways of defense that trolls had, and suddenly felt less alone when Eridan told them that trolls didn't have parents, as they were insects based and were taken care of by their Lusus. This lead to them questioning the troll on his own Lusus, which prompted Eridan to materialize a giant floating white seahorse out of thin air, causing them to first jump at the sudden appearance and laugh as they realized how similar a Lusus was to a Patronus.

After meeting Skyhorse, Eridan explained the Sylladex, and passed out one to each of them. When asked about his foresight, the troll admitted that Sirius had mentioned how much it would come in handy if each Order member had a secret boost. It placated the when he also explained that once the Sylladex is set to an individual, only the individual could see or use it. Handy in case someone ever tried to steal it. When Neville asked if there was any way to steal and use a Sylladex, Eridan stared him hard in the eye and replied with 'over their dead body'.

They were then taught about the Fetch Modus, which everyone got a kick out of picking, and practically cheered when they were explained the Strife Specibus. Eridan demonstrated using his rifle, making it appear and disappear without saying anything or waving a wand. It was the general consensus in the room that this was handier than magic, even though Eridan was still adamant on learning magic.

This lead to each of the teens recounting their years of Hogwarts, but once they reached second year, Eridan's face turned impassive, incredibly cold. It was the same face that Harry saw right before the troll became hostile, and discreetly reached for his wand. He didn't have to worry, however, because all Eridan did was lean forward and pierce Ginny with a stare that Harry only ever saw when Professor Snape was looking at a student's potion.

"Miss Wweasley, please explain to me again wwhat Tom Riddle's diary did again."

Chapter Text

"So let me surmise wwhat wwe havve gathered here:

Your human custodians wwill not let you fight, evven though this is more your Wwar than it is theirs. Furthermore, they havve been wwithholdin information from you to make sure you aren't able to fight. In sense, they are still treatin you like little wwrigglers that can't fend for themselvves. Wwhich leads us to this.

I havve reason to believve that none of you need to rely on these adults if all they are goin to do is hold you back, and that you already havve all the clues to figure out certain thins that they're tryin to hade from you."

After hearing all their adventures, Eridan's visage had turned into one of a General. Every bit of information they told him seemed to be relevant to some other thing that was happening, and honestly Harry was becoming a little confused. Instead of explaining his thought process, the troll was having them think of all the 'evidence' they had 'gathered' throughout their years at Hogwarts to piece together what the Order was trying to withhold from them.

It wasn't going so well.

Eridan rubbed his temples and sighed at the rest of the inhabitants of the room. They were stuck here for quite a while, and Harry was beginning to wonder when they would give up looking for the troll. Once again, Eridan repeated the evidence, this time stressing certain parts.

"Look, Ginny had Tom Riddle's diary, wwhich claimed to be a memory. Howwevver, it is knowwn that memories can't possess people, wwhich it did. Fast forwward to noww, Harry has a Parasite livvin in his scar, wwhich he got from Tome Riddle attackin him all those swweeps ago."

At this, Neville raised his hand.

"You said that term a couple of times already, but something tells me that you trolls have a different meaning for the word 'Parasite'."

Eridan seemed to blink slowly at this, before his face contorted, like he didn't want to talk about it. He seemed to have an inner battle with himself, a few seconds passing until he slumped against the wall tiredly, sighing.

"A vvery long time ago on Alternia, in a time that my ancestor's ancestor wwas livvin, there wwas a wwar between the lowwbloods and that time's Empress. Wwith their superior psychic abilities some lowwbloods, fearing their short lifespans, split parts of their soul, their vvery livvin essence, and placed them in vvessels. Most of the time, these vvessels wwere nonlivvin objects, but some of the lowwbloods latched their soul shards onto highbloods. These shards wwould start to absorb the essence of the highblood, until they died and the shard wwas returned to the lowwblood it belonged to, their lifespan now as long as the highblood they stole it from. My ancestor's ancestor called them Parasites."

"So then, you think that Tom Riddle made Parasites to prolong his own lifespan?" Ron questioned.

"It would make sense, the diary did try to kill me by absorbing all my magic and creating his own body." Ginny pointed out.

"Usually lowwbloods wwere smart enough to stop at one Parasite, howwevver I havve reason to believve that Tom Riddle has made more than that." Eridan added, staring pointedly at Harry.

Harry's hand went straight to his scar, and recalled what Eridan had said when the little troll first laid eyes on it, not to mention he called Harry a 'Parasite Vessel'. Slowly his mind started to put the pieces into place. The connection with Voldemort. How he could sense his presence. How he could see what Voldemort was doing through his dreams. The message in the Department of Mysteries. Why Dumbledore was avoiding him. It all made sense. A shard of Voldemort's soul was in his scar.

"So…how do you get rid of these…Parasites?" the Boy Who Lived asked, slightly shaken at the revelation he just had.

The way Eridan smiled made Harry realize that the alien had been waiting for Harry to finally come to that particular conclusion. His smile dropped when he started to explain.

"My ancestor's ancestor wwas my namesake, Eridanus the Purifier. He studied the Parasites wwhen they became wwidely used in the rebellion. Because of his extensive research, he wwas able to formulate a number wways, and wwas appointed by the Empress to purify those wwith Parasites, as wwell as inanimate Parasite Vvessels. One wway was by the vvenom of a noww extinct giant slitherbeast species, another wwas by sentient fires. Obivviously this lead to a feww problems, because the only wway he wwas able to find to free a highblood from a Parasite wwas death."

Death.

In order for Voldemort to be destroyed, Harry had to die. It wasn't a coincidence, was it? The way he was treated at the Dursley's, the Order's inaction with training them for the next war, the trials he had to go through every year. Dumbledore had lined Harry up to be killed by Voldemort like…like a pig for slaughter!

"Is…is there any other way to destroy a Parasite without killing the Vessel?" His voice was quivering.

"For humans? No. There wwas another wway described, but it had to do wwith those from an old lineage, and somethin about harvvestin the powwer of 'the descendants of wwrathful angels'. I wwould need to…read the book the Purifier wwrote again. I didn't get that far wwhen I last came across it."

"Do you think you could check it again? I'll help!" Hermione perked up, wanting to help and also curious about the book Eridan had mentioned.

"I wwould havve to teach you Alternian for that, considerin that it's written in my first language."

"Please? I want to help! I was wondering how you were so fluent, so Alternian must be what was on the Veil before it changed, right? Maybe we can work together, to try and find out how to get the Parasite out of Harry's scar!" Eridan regarded her carefully, and then slowly nodded.

"If you are wwillin to learn, I'll attempt to teach you, alright?" Hermione squealed and hugged the small troll, almost knocking his large glasses down.

"Thank you Eridan! I won't let you down, I promise!" Cautiously he circled his arms around her.

"I…don't doubt it."

When they broke apart, Eridan turned to Harry, purposefully looking into his eyes and not his scar.

"You knoww… back on Alternia, only the Jadebloods had that particular shade of green. They're kind is a vversatile one, considerin they are destined to reside underground carin for the Mother Grub wwhen they come of age. Adaptable in many a circumstance, hardy, sticks to their blood push- hearts, evven wwhen they knoww their fates. I don't doubt that you are the same." Harry smiled..

Suddenly Eridan's earfin twitched, like a rabbit's when they hear something.

"Someone is comin, they must havve givven up on their search."

All of the room's occupants turned to the locked door, and soon they heard the sound of footsteps thumping their way upstairs. Eridan calmly walked over to one of the beds and sat behind it, out of sight. Harry rolled his eyes at that, like that was going to hide him from Mad Eye's…. mad eye. The air around them pulsed ever so slightly as the wards at the door were being undone, and they all waited with a baited breath as the locked clicked open, and the doorknob turned…

Sirius was very confused. While he knew Eridan had the capability to be elusive even without Harry's Invisibility Cloak, nobody could be this elusive. He checked the kitchen area again, sometimes whispering the alien's name under his breath to no avail. Molly had ushered the teens (non-members of the Order, really, they were old enough to take care of themselves by now, considering all they've been through) up the stairs and into one of their shared rooms. Sirius rolled his eyes at that, but he knew better than to go against a Molly in 'Mother Mode'. Although, the Azkaban-addled wizard wondered if there ever was a time that he hadn't seen Molly in that mindset.

He was tired, he was hungry, but most of all he was frustrated. Why?

They had been searching for around five hours.

It was almost time for dinner, and the rest of the Order was going to be arriving for another meeting after that. If Eridan wasn't found until then, they were going to have to explain that there was an invisible troll loose inside the Headquarters, and that would cause more panic than there was now. Mundungus practically fled the place when he finally wrapped his head around Harry's little speech, and made for the Floo only to be grabbed by a ticked off Alastor.

Speaking of which…

Going into the living room, he met with Arthur and Kingsley, both of whom were being interrogated by Alastor on the troll's behavioral habits. The way he spoke, Sirius thought he was talking about an Earth Troll…oh. That must have been what the others were trying to find this entire time. Considering that an Earth Troll wasn't hard to find (it was like misplacing Hagrid, it just didn't happen) as one merely had to follow the trail of destruction and the horrid stench that their kind was notorious of, using those methods to find Eridan were…laughable.

Although the follow the trail of destruction did have its merits if Eridan decided to use the Black Family Heirlooms as target practice for his insanely powerful alien rifle.

Sirius gave the two stricken men an apologetic glance, which didn't go unnoticed by Paranoid Auror Master Alastor. Dear Merlin he wasn't a wet-behind-the-ears Auror trainee anymore, but somehow Moody always made him feel that way. Now he was cornered by his old mentor, but before the barrage of questions could form out of the grizzled man's mouth, the Floo flared.

Out stepped Minerva McGonagall, Albus Dumbledore, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge, Emmeline Vance, and Hestia Jones, all talking about something in hushed tones. When they saw Sirius, they walked over and gave their congratulations for surviving the Veil. Albus lingered for a little with Minerva, giving the dog animagus a proud smile, as if to say that he was proud of Sirius for braving the unknown. He glanced up at the clock that stood on the far end of the living room, and sighed. It was seven, time for the unofficial meeting to begin, as well as dinner. The Floo flared again, and his little metamorphmagus cousin Nymphadora Tonks stepped into the room with a large grin on her face, before subsequently tripping on her own foot and falling on the floor in an ungraceful thud. Sirius chuckled a little before giving his hand to help hoist her up.

The newly arrived members of the Order scanned the room confused, as Molly was frantically glancing upwards at intervals, Remus was doing similar and seemed to jump at every odd noise, sniffing the air, Moody's eye was whizzing in its eye more than usual, Mundungus appeared to have soiled his pants, and Arthur and Kingsley were as white as ghosts.

"Did we miss something?" Dumbledore asked genially with a twinkle in his eye.

"Black," Moody started, snarling and pointing at the sheepish Sirius, "has led a troll into the Headquarters. Currently its invisible and we are still trying to locate it."

"We should have kept a better eye on him," Arthur muttered, still pale faced, "I saw that thing kill twenty Dementors and I…I didn't question how dangerous it could be until Harry said so-"

"Hold on…" Tonks interrupted, "Did you say the troll killed twenty Dementors?"

The other members of the Order had started to mutter amongst themselves, and McGonagall had her lips pressed in a thin line.

"Saw it with my own eyes. Never before had I seen a Dementor feel fear, scream, and blasted into a pile of ash all in a few seconds. It was truly a horrifying experience." Kingsley replied slowly.

Panic started to spread through the room, like Sirius predicted, but before it could turn into full blown chaos, Dumbledore emitted a few sparks from his wand. Immediately everyone stopped what they were doing, and stared at him in silence, waiting at attention.

"So let us summarize what we have learned," he started, eyes twinkling, "Mr. Black is back from the Veil, and has brought a friend with him. A troll friend that can destroy Dementors, but a friend nonetheless. He is…invisible at the moment? Yes, however, Sirius, can you assure us that he is not a direct threat at the moment?"

"Well, he won't attack you unless you attack him first, so no…"

"Then we have nothing to worry about." Dumbledore answered, "We will find him in time. For now, I believe dinner is in order."

"I'll go get the children then," Molly pipped up with from the back room.

They all nodded in agreement and turned to walk into the kitchen, having their own little conversations. Remus jogged up to Sirius and looked at him questioningly.

"So…your partner from the Veil is…vaguely harmless?"

"Extremely vaguely." Sirius said with a certainty that made the werewolf facepalm.

"This is going to be a long night…"

Sirius could only give his old friend a lopsided grin.

Then the Floo fared once more, and out stepped the last person that Sirius wanted to see in a million years, besides the Ministry sods that tried to kill him hours ago.

"Well, it looks like the Mutt is back from the dead." drawled a familiar voice.

"Hello to you too, Snivillus." Sirius sneered back at the newcomer.

"I may have overheard something from the other side of the Floo, something about you letting loose a troll inside the headquarters? Tsk, tsk, Mr. Black, and I thought you would have learned not to do such things since our Hogwarts days." Sirius's eye twitched, but not because of Snape's words.

It was because that tone and infliction was too bloody familiar for his liking.

"Now, now you two. Remember, old hatchets must be buried for us to work together." Remus sang out, mimicking Dumbledore's words.

"I don't have a hatchet Moony, that's why I brought a cleaver." Sirius proclaimed proudly.

"I brought a chainsaw." Snape drawled sarcastically.

"Well I brought a…what's a chainsaw?"

Snivillus opened his mouth to reply, but was silenced by the deafening scream that penetrated the air. A scream that without a doubt came from Molly Weasley. Within a split second everyone had their wands at the ready, and was standing at attention at the foot of the stairs.

"Molly!" Arthur shouted, "Are you alright?"

There was thumping of someone descending the stairs, and without knowing, everyone was holding their breath, until Mrs. Weasley's voice rang out in the dusty air.

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK, HOW DARE YOU WITHOLD INFORMATION FROM US!"

"I…wha?" was all Sirius could manage.

"Molly?" Arthur sputtered.

"I THOUGHT WE WERE LOOKING FOR A GIANT, SMELLY MONSTER! I WAS NOT AWARE THAT THE TROLL HARRY HAD MENTIONED…" Molly descended the steps with something distinctly violet colored cradled in her arms, "WAS AN ADORABLE UNDERWEIGHT LITTLE CREATURE!"

Molly Weasley was holding Eridan in her arms like one would a puppy or a baby, and the poor kid had a deer-in-the-headlights expression of confusion plastered on his face, making his eyes wider and more childlike than they usually were. More thumping resounded from upstairs as the teens made their way down, and their faces betrayed their amusement at Eridan's current predicament, barely holding in their laughter as Molly went to nuzzle him like a baby.

"Wwhat are you doin. Matriarch of the hivvehold I implore you to please put me dowwn. I'm six, I can vvery wwell take care of myself."

Without even attempting to let the troll down, Molly carried him all the way to the kitchen, before setting him down on a 'free' chair to be examined by the rest of the Order, much to the alien's chagrin. The Order members all took their seats around the dinner table as Mrs. Weasley started to dish out her large-portioned meals. Snape sat on Eridan's left, while Harry sat next to Sirius, on Eridan's right. The latter was still snickering to Eridan's expense as the pink haired Auror leaned over to where the grey-skinned seadweller sat.

"Aaaaw look at him. He's just a wittle baby!" Tonks cooed.

"Wwhy is everyone usin that vvoice? Do human females become mentally impaired as soon as they lay eyes on me or somethin? Wwhat is wwith that strange emotion they're puttin out?"

Sirius tried and failed to hold back his laughter, before a thought sobered him. Leaning on his hands while his elbows were propped on the table, the dog animagus came to an upsetting conclusion. Some of the Order glanced at him worriedly as they filled their plates up with Molly's rich food. As soon as Mrs. Weasley herself sat at the table, McGonagall decided to break his brooding.

"Mr. Black, care to share why you are in such a somber mood?"

"It's nothing really, I just came to a conclusion that I find depressing." McGonagall raised an eyebrow at this.

"And what conclusion is that, Mr. Black?"

Sirius heard what she said, but he kept his eyes fixated on the subject of his thoughts, who was questioning Harry on each dish being presented to him. The small troll was towered on both ends by his godson and childhood enemy, and it just brought to mind how bloody young he was, and yet he acted rather mature in human standards, but that was the point. Eridan was an alien, and the circumstances of his upbringing orbited around that fact, including around a rather somber thought.

It started with what Eridan had told him about having a Lusus instead of actual parents, and Sirius realized something very sad. Having a Lusus filled the job of a caretaker, but having an actual parent was completely different. Trolls, Sirius realized, lived a very lonely life. They were always an only child, raised by barely sentient animals, and were born to be soldiers for a crusade that they didn't truly understand. A troll never experienced what a father figure was like, someone to support them and to look up to. All they had were their ancestors, but not only are they deceased, they have been so for thousands of years. While Harry grew up as an orphan, even he had Sirius, Remus, Mr. Weasley or even Dumbledore and Hagrid to act like a father (no matter how terrible Hagrid was at parenthood, it was still evident that Harry did look up to Hagrid, both physically and metaphorically) and Sirius had both Dumbledore and James's own father. Eridan only had his Skyhorse (which to be honest, was just like a smarter seahorse Buckbeak) and his ancestor (someone he only read about and knew through his journals, he doesn't even know what Dualscar looked like). And then there was the complete lack of motherly affection, something Sirius himself only had from James's wonderful mother and even McGonagall to some extent, and Harry was practically one of Molly's own brood in her eyes. But Eridan? Eridan had nothing like that, and because it was just an accepted part of his society, they wouldn't be able to comprehend that type of affection if faced with it.

Sirius had realized that the strange emotion that Eridan was talking about was Motherly Affection, something completely foreign and unheard of for the violet blooded troll. Of course he didn't understand what was going when Molly held him like a baby, he'd never experienced anything like it! Of course he would be weirded out by people cooing over him, as a troll he lived alone on an enormous empty warship with nothing but books and a giant floating white seahorse for company! Without any semblance of an actual parent or sibling, and sporadic friends and a Spartan upbringing, it had led Sirius to come to a single, disheartening conclusion.

Trolls had no actual concept of what a 'family' was.

"Sirius?"

He saw that Eridan was staring at him curiously now, as well as everyone around the table. Something wet rolled down his cheek, and Sirius raised a tentative hand to his face, and realized that he was honest to Merlin crying.

"It's nothing…nothing…" Remus gave him a look that meant 'spill the beans or so help me I will rip the bag open myself' and Sirius gulped, "Again it was just a realization I had…"

His silvery blue eyes bored into the glowing purple that were staring at him confused. Making a quick decision, Sirius cleared his throat.

"Before anything else, I would like to make a toast." Everyone at the table was staring at him like he had grown a second head, but he ignored them as he stood up with his glass of pumpkin juice, raising it high, "I would like a toast in honor of being on this wonderful planet we called home, even if we are driven into war, even if we are fighting for our lives, even if some of us fall, the bonds between us will let us go in the fight strong. To the Order, to the family we have made for each other."

Smiles broke out among the group along with the clinking of glasses and murmurs of 'to family', and Sirius even caught an upward twitch on Snape's regular scowl as Dumbledore tapped his goblet of pumpkin juice with his own glass of water. The only one not smiling was Eridan, whose face was screwed up as if he were trying to figure out a particularly difficult puzzle.

"Come on, Eridan, raise your glass, we consider you family too, you know!" Harry laughed as he offered his own glass to the small troll.

Said troll blinked slowly a few times, his face becoming blanker than it was before yet still holding the same confusion. He put both his hands together, steepling his fingers, glaring at them as the cogs almost seemed to visibly turn in his head. Everyone had turned to him in confusion, but some of them were brushing it off, probably because they had only just met him and thought that he just didn't consider himself a part of them yet.

It was Eridan's turn to look up at Sirius, his eyes boring into the man, as if looking for an answer that he knows he'll never understand.

"Wwhat in the Empress's name is a 'family'?"

Sirius expected this, he really did, but that didn't stop the tears from flowing down his cheeks.

Eridan didn't understand why Sirius was crying, or why Harry had a look of dawning understanding and horror written on his face. He would have been more worried if it weren't for the fact that the troll was still trying to understand that single, and apparently very powerful and important, word that they were uttering over and over. So he asked Sirius, and now he was watching an adult break down into tears.

"Of course." Hermione breathed out, eyes widening before turning to Eridan, "Trolls wouldn't have any concept of what a family is. Even if we explained it to you… You wouldn't… Oh Merlin…"

Now Eridan was really confused. Was this 'family' thing that important? He believed that he got along quite well without this strange concept that Sirius, Hermione, and even some of the other teens were tearing over. He huffed and rolled his eyes.

"I highly doubt me not graspin this 'family' concept is that big of a deal."

"Eri…Eridan…" Sirius said as he tried to compose himself, "That strange emotion that you couldn't pinpoint, that's a mother's love…but you wouldn't…you wouldn't know that…"

"Trolls don't have parents…not even parent figures…no father, no mother, no siblings, they wouldn't understand…" Harry whispered.

His eye twitched as he heard a gasp from the oldest red haired woman (Molly, right?) and a rush as she began to hug him, the emotion he now knew as 'mother's love' rolling out of her in waves. Stiffening, he pushed her away.

"Please let go of me."

For some reason that made her cry too.

Well then, a few hours into it and he was already making humans cry without knowing why. Turning to the other side of the room, (purposefully ignoring the living, breathing fashion disaster that was at the end of the table past the man sitting next to the troll) Eridan scrutinized the man sitting next to him.

For one thing, he was rather tall, towering over Eridan a little more than Sirius did. If he were a troll, he would probably have black blood (which didn't really exist, but still) because of the sheer amount of the color he was cloaked with. Obsidian eyes below obsidian hair, and cloaked with an obsidian robe, this man cut to be an imposing figure. His figures were steepled in front of him as he watched the emotional cryfest on the other side of the room. Eridan jerked a thumb over to where he was looking.

"Are they alwways like that?"

Thankfully, the dark clothed man just smirked.

"More or less."

Oh thank the Empress, he was doing something right. Offering a hand to the man, Eridan grinned slightly.

"Eridan Ampora. I'm a troll from the planet Alternia, to wwhich your Vveil led to. I followwed him out to learn about humans, Earth, and Magic, wwhich Alternia doesn't have."

The tall man raised an eyebrow and regarded Eridan carefully, before slowly shaking his hand.

"Severus Snape. Perhaps you are the saving grace with the horror of Black coming back through the Veil. I am the Potions Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which you will be attending to learn magic."

For once since he was here, Eridan felt a sense of familiarity at the fact that out of all the humans seated here, he was the one most similar to an Alternian troll. Raven black hair, eyes that matched the color of his clothing, and the callousness that Eridan had been accustomed to for all those sweeps from his own self-reflection.

"So it's official then? I wwill be attendin your Hogwwarts?" Severus gave a curt nod as an answer.

"Indeed. Headmaster Dumbledore," the living fashion disaster (Kanaya would have had an aneurysm) waved back from his seat jovially, his bright blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon shaped glasses, "Has allowed for you to come, however going as you are may not be a good idea."

"So wwhat wwould I havve to do then?"

"You would have to attend under the guise of a human. Unfortunately, the Ministry is poking its nose into the school's affairs, and their appointed Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor does not particularly like anything that is not human. Already Hagrid, our resident half-giant, and Professor Flitwick, who is the Charms Professor and has Goblin blood, have been singled by her in our first Staff Meeting."

"I see… So howw wwould you manage to make me look human? Wwe may havve similarities but…" Eridan motioned to his horns.

"A potion should suffice, it will give you the guise of a human, but unfortunately it is only in appearance. Any…inhuman abilities you may have will not be compromised."

"Alright, that sounds fair…" Eridan said, letting out a breath when he was assured that he would still be able to keep his heightened senses, even if everyone else (including himself) wouldn't be able to see it.

Conversation with Severus was, unlike Sirius, rather enlightening. After confirming what Sirius had told Eridan about Hogwarts, Severus explained the way the school worked in more detail in between intervals of identifying what the troll was eating (Eridan was really confused at what 'Lasagna' and 'Pasta' was). This included the subjects taught, the House system, and Eridan's summer study expectations.

"Since you will be starting third year, you will have to learn the units taught in the previous two first. I have been elected to remedy you on Potions, hopefully you're not a dunderheads like the other students I teach." Severus sneered when he said the last part.

"If I could grasp your language wwithin a feww hours, somethin as similar to chemistry shouldn't be too difficult to grasp."

"We shall see."

Dinner progressed as normal, considering that there was a small, albeit deadly, alien sitting at the table with them. He was having conversation on the other side of the table as Hermione and Sirius started to debate on how they could introduce the concept of family to Eridan. Harry, on the other hand, was discussing the pros and cons of having an honest to Merlin alien at the school (because let's face it, Harry knew when to let go of a subject, Eridan doesn't know about family? Fine with him) with Luna, Neville, Ron, Ginny and the Twins. At intervals McGonagall would jump in with certain precautionary measures they were taking and how Eridan would be disguised as a human, so the topic switched to the old reliable.

House Betting.

"Slytherin. I'm positive he's going into Slytherin." Ginny put in, "He's cunning and ambitious and a bit too much like *cough*Dungeon Bat*cough* to not be in Slytherin."

"True..." started George.

"But…" picked up Fred.

"He's..."

"Kind of…"

"Obsessed…"

"With…"

"Learning."

"So Ravenclaw then?" Harry thought aloud.

"Maybe Gryffindor, because coming on your own to a different planet is really brave." Ron pointed out.

"Maybe, but he's not the type to value it, bravery is probably a survival trait back on Alternia." Neville pointed out.

"Technically, you could say that about all the Houses though. To survive on Alternia, one would need the bravery of a Gryffindor to face the dangers that just come from living there, the cunning and ambition of a Slytherin to live another day, the hard working mentality, the loyalty, and the dedication of a Hufflepuff to make sure your friends or Lusus doesn't die, and the wit and intelligence of a Ravenclaw to outsmart your enemies. In a sense, it's a necessity to embody all those traits." Ginny piped up, and the group fell silent.

"She's got…" muttered Fred, before taking another bite of lasagna.

"A point there." finished George, who took another forkful from Hermione's plate as she was too engrossed in her own conversation with Sirius to notice that her dinner was slowly being stolen by the Weasley Twins.

"But think about it, everyone holds at least some aspect from each House, we are multi-faceted people, but it's always the trait that stands out the most." Harry said, and silence enveloped the group for a while.

"Then we know where he will go." Luna said dreamily, "I wonder if there are nargles where he's from."

Speaking of Eridan, the group turned around to see what he was doing, only to find him talking to Snape of all people, discussing the subjects at Hogwarts with the man as if they were long lost cousins. The strangest part of the sight was the fact that the Potions Professor had a faint upturned corner of his mouth as he conversed with the bright little troll, which is the closest thing Harry had seen on the man resembling a genuine smile.

On the other side of Snape sat Dumbledore, who refused to meet his eyes. While he knew why the man was doing so, it still brought a pang of sadness in Harry's heart. Hopefully after the Parasite was removed Dumbledore will go back to the way he was. Sighing to himself he contemplated something that was slightly disturbing. Trolls (even if they were 'lowbloods') were only able to make one Parasite, but already they have confirmed that Voldemort has made at least two. It was the 'at least' part that worried him. A man who literally named himself 'Flight From Death' would take his pursuit of immortality seriously, so he could have made more. If Harry could see Voldemort through the Dark Wizard's eyes because he had a piece of his soul inside his scar, could it also be said that he could look through the eyes of other soul pieces? If so, then Harry was certain that the snake that bit Mr. Weasley was a Parasite as well.

That made three soul pieces, but a nagging feeling made Harry believe that Voldemort wouldn't stop at three. How many he actually made, Harry wasn't sure. All he knew is that it was just more information that he didn't know, information that Dumbledore and the Order was keeping from him. He knew he shouldn't resent them, after all they were still just treating Harry and the others like children, but it was hard.

Harry never had a childhood, not since he was dropped on the doorstep of Number Four Privet Drive.

The Boy Who Lived mused at the fact that he had more similarities to the troll sitting next to him than he originally thought. In a sense, Harry could jokingly assume that Hedwig would be his 'Lusus', as she took care of him as best as an owl could and had completely white feathers.

A stifled gasp came from the side, and Harry turned to see his godfather with a horrified look on his face, staring at the interaction between Snape and Eridan.

Sirius was broken from his in-depth conversation with Hermione by Remus, who elbowed him and chuckled, pointing to the other side of the table.

"Look out Padfoot, I think you might have just lost your alien friend to the dark side."

Curious on what in Merlin's name the werewolf was talking about, Sirius turned his head.

He really shouldn't have.

There, talking calmly to Eridan, was none other than his most hated childhood enemy in his Hogwarts years and beyond, Marauder Hit List Villain Number One, the slimy, slithering, greasy dungeon bat Snivillus. Sirius almost chocked on his dinner.

"You…" he strangled out, half-glaring at Snape and successfully gaining their attention, "You…and…and him…talking…"

Their faces went blank simultaneously, and folded their arms at the same time.

"Obviously."

"Obvviously."

It was said in the same bored tone, the same infliction, the same way. Their synchronized movements almost put the Weasley Twins to shame.

At that moment, everything fell into place.

"Why does Sirius look like he's about to have a mental breakdown?"

A hand waved across his face, but the dog animagus paid it no heed.

"Should we poke him with a stick?"

"I don't know, he looks like he's about to snap."

The mannerisms, the personality, the way they both billow their capes and cloak, the sneering, the vocabulary, the braininess. They were so similar it burned, and soon only one word played in Sirius's head.

"No…"

"Uh, Sirius?"

"Nononononononononononononono after all this the one person you were reminding me of had to be Snape! How could I have been so blind?!"

"Padfoot, you're overreacting."

To prove Remus wrong, Sirius dramatically fell backwards on his chair to the ground before going into a fetal position and rolling on the floor.

"Noooooooooooooooooo…" he whispered to himself as a single tear fell to the ground.

By this point almost everyone was laughing their heads off at Sirius's reaction to something they had figured out within minutes of meeting Eridan, and even the troll in question started to smirk. Hopping from his place on the chair, he trotted over to the dramatically crying Sirius, who stared up at him. Leaning down, he gave Sirius another smirk.

"Wwell, your reaction just provves that I wwas right."

This caused a few murmurs of confusion amongst the people sitting at the table, those who weren't still laughing that is.

"What do you mean?" Remus asked curiously.

Sirius saw Eridan give him a vicious grin, before the troll opened his sharp toothed mouth.

"Suppressed Memory."

The groan of annoyance that came from the floor made almost everyone start laughing at the crying Black once more, though Sirius barely registered Harry ask Eridan one more thing.

"What do you mean by 'suppressed memory'?"

"Oh nothin. Just an inside joke betwween us, that's all."

Chapter Text

"This is an outrage!"

"No it is not little one, you are far too young to attend an official Order meeting, so up you go with the others!"

"Ridiculous! I'vve killed your laughably wweak Dementors and this is wwhat I get? Wwhat happened to fearin me?"

"You are still a child Mr. Ampora, now go!"

It was suffice to say that Eridan Ampora was not in a good mood. With all the panic the humans had gone through to find him, the fear of having a faceless Dementor killing troll in their midst, the second they found out he was a child they began to treat him like some helpless wriggler. Who were they to judge him like he wasn't a capable killer, like he couldn't reduce them to ashes before they could even process the words 'genocidal maniac'? For Empress's sake, he kills the troll equivalent of a human parent as his occupancy, and these humans think that they were going to pull this one on him? Treating him like he couldn't even sit in on one simple Order meeting because he was 'too young'?

What a colossal pile of festering, fetid, foul, and utterly fictitious equine excrement.

Nevertheless, he complied with the hivehold matriarch, all the while barely holding in the homicidal thoughts that threatened to bubble to the surface. While marching back up to the room with the other non-adult humans, all of whom were in a similar mind state of discontent to Eridan himself, the troll took the time to calm down and look at the situation rationally. The violet blooded seadweller expected this from the humans since Harry's explanation of why he and the others were barred from attending the meeting as well, and the gears were turning in his think pan of how to use this rift between the adults and those in Wriggler Quarantine to his advantage. From what Eridan could gather, the human adults most definitely had information that they considered too classified to show children. In this sense, the troll can derive that what they were discussing had to do with specific battle tactics of the War. What specifically, they would have to discover later, and was something that Eridan would have to work around. Oh well, with his tactical skills, paired with Ron's own strategical prowess, could probably come up with a far better plan than whatever the glub they were planning on the floor below. So for now the path of least resistance was to research on a subject the adults were doing absolutely nothing about - Voldemort's Parasites.

Once they were all gathered into the room, Molly Weasley shut the door behind her and Eridan felt the multitudes of locking spells wash over the door, trapping all the teens inside once more with little chance of escape. A calmer, more collected Eridan turned to the rest of the occupants in the room, noting their sour expressions, and cleared his throat. Immediately their heads whipped around to face the grey-skinned alien.

"Is there a wway to make this room private?" was his first question, which was quickly answered by a determined Hermione Granger.

Hermione nodded in response, taking out her wand and waving it in complex patterns, muttering under her breath. Eridan felt the magic she was invoking into the room through his horns, sensing as the spells sunk into the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the window and the door. A slight shiver ran down his cartilage spine as he smiled. Magic really was a wonderful thing, and he couldn't wait to learn it.

"That should give us enough privacy." the bushy-haired girl sighed out.

"Excellent."

The grin he sported, which had scared the teens just hours before, now elicited mad grins from everyone in the room. Eridan leapt up on one of the tables in an attempt to make himself taller.

"The Order of the Flamin Cluckbeast," a few chuckled at this, "is hidin some information from us, correct?"

He was answered with nods of affirmation.

"Then is it also, in return, fair that wwe pursue our owwn projects, and keep the knowwledge to ourselvves? Wwe havve made a breakthrough wwith discovverin the Parasites wwithin five hours of meetin each other, and I am certain that the more wwe go on our owwn, wwithout the adults, wwe could make wwavves in our research, more than they could in this single meetin.

Wwe havve the advvantage, it is us."

"So what now?" asked Ron, who had once again taken a seat on the strange human contraption known as a 'bed'.

"Havve you made sure that no one wwill interfere?" Hermione nodded, causing Eridan to grin widely, "Then let's go."

"Um, Eridan?" Neville started, prompting the troll to face him.

"Yes, Nevv?" Neville blinked a few times at the nickname, but continued.

"Where are we going?"

This caused the violet blooded seadweller's grin to grow wider.

"I'm vvery glad you asked."

Eridan ushered the teens to the edge of the room, their backs against the locked door, and pushed some of the beds to the side walls. This left a rather large open area in the middle of the room. The human teens stood there, mystified at the seadweller's actions, but stayed where they were. Eventually the troll strode and stood in front of them with a smirk. Before they could open their mouths to ask him any questions, Eridan uncapchalogged the Veil from his Sylladex, letting it stand imposingly in the center of the room as if it were always there, always meant to be there. This sudden appearance of the stone arch caused some gasps of awe to resonate in the room.

"Wwe…" he motioned to the Veil, his violet cape billowing dramatically, "Are goin to Alternia."

"Alternia?" Harry choked out, "Your home planet?"

"Only to gather books, of course," Eridan said, "but yes. I may need your help, and I don't think any of you wwould wwant to miss a chance to see wwhat another planet is like, no? Wwe should be back in an hour."

None of them could argue with that logic, and Harry was pretty sure that none of them wanted to be left here while the rest got to explore an alien planet. Harry shared a glance with his friends, and they all seemed rather hyped up to go.

"Alright then," the Boy Who Lived stated, licking his dry lips, "let's go."

One by one, they walked into the Veil, led by Eridan. Harry was the last to go through, as he wanted to make sure everyone got through the stone archway first. When he finally stepped through, he found himself in a large chamber, lit with lanterns with grey flames. Looking around, Harry found the rest of the group investigating the chamber as well. On the back wall was a separate room, which Eridan beckoned them into. Harry blanched at the skeletons sitting on teal wooden chairs, but then noticed the magical items placed on the shelves.

"Wow," Ron commented, "You loot really well."

He got hit upside the head by Hermione.

"Ron!"

"Sorry…" Ron replied sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

"It's fine, he's right. I knoww wwhat to take durin a loot. It's a compliment, really."

Luna was reading some of the parchments that were lying on the shelves while Neville started to explain to Eridan what some of the objects did. They were interrupted by the white haired girl when she tapped the troll's shoulder and smiled at him dreamily, before clasping one of his hands into both of her own.

"You're the Heir of Ravenclaw…" she stated with a faraway voice, finger rubbing over the deep blue ring on his own finger, "…I think you'll make a wonderful Lord Ravenclaw, as well as your lineage of Lord Ampora."

Eridan blinked at her in confusion, while the rest of the teens turned to gape at her. Heir of Ravenclaw? Well, Harry thought, it was certainly better than being called Heir of Slytherin. He filed the information away for a later date, and decided to investigate the potions lined on the shelves. If he was right in guessing their contents (though it was really Snape's expertise), he could identify a vial of Polyjuice, a vial of Unicorn blood, a vial that looked to have Dragon blood, and a vial of human blood. There were some other potions that Harry could guess at, but he wasn't too confident in anything potions related.

Eventually they finished exploring what Eridan told them he called 'The Lab', and the troll lead them up the stone stairs (the writing on the wall was in English, but some of the words had extra letters…) to his 'hive'.

It was amazing. The ceilings were tall, almost as tall as Hogwarts, and the room they were in rivalled the size of the Great Hall itself. An incredibly ornate crystal chandelier hung from the center, casting a slightly violet glow on everything. Bookcases that were filled with tomes, maps, and other papers were so tall that Harry was quite sure the room held more books than the Hogwarts Library, and that was saying something. Cozy violet chairs with small tables next to them were scattered along the room.

"This is my personal readin and book storin block. This is wwhere the book wwe need is. Please feel free to browwse wwhile I get it, just don't break anythin. And Herm? The papers I wwas doin on Alternian and Earth English translation is on that table ovver there."

Eridan pointed to one of the tables, where Hermione quickly scuttled to, before he uncapcha…something-ed his Lusus, flying to one of the high shelves near the ceiling.

"Amazing…" Hermione breathed out, looking through the papers, "These are incredibly comprehensive notes. With a bit of practice, we could get it in no time!"

"Good." started Fred, flipping through one of the tomes and staring at the pictures of what looked like heavily armored trolls in battle.

"Because if we could…" carried on George, peering over Fred's shoulder to look at one of the images that depicted a very brutal burning of a troll with nubby horns and scarlet blood, his wrists clasped above him in iron cuffs as his chest bloomed with blood from the wounds that arrows had made.

"Speak a language…" Fred continued, flipped to another page with the alien writing.

"That can't be translated by magic…" George said, viewing another illustration of a swordfight between a pirate looking troll with cobalt blood and a teal and scarlet wearing troll with pointy horns.

The teal wearing (teal blooded, even?) troll was wearing scarlet pointed glasses, and had a large red eyed white dragon behind her.

"Then we could…" Fred skipped to another random page as he spoke.

"Discuss plans during school…" George stopped Fred at one page, which depicted what looked like the troll from the light show at the Veil, in all his violet glory, kneeling before a monstrous troll with tall spiral horns and clown makeup gone wrong.

The humongous troll was wearing black and dark purple stripes, and his white makeup made him look like he was in a cult that belonged to clowns that worshiped Death. He reminded Harry of the Death Eaters.

"And no one else would understand us." They finished together, and closed the book with a 'snap' for effect.

"That sounds like a good idea," Ron commented, "It would also give us an advantage over the Order."

"And we could actually get something done instead of waiting around in our rooms while the 'adults' make the 'big decisions'." Ginny added.

"We could actually fight this war properly." sighed out Harry and Neville simultaneously, causing them to grin slightly at each other.

It was then that they heard a soft whinny come from above them. The white seahorse descended gracefully from the high ceiling to where the teens were standing, with Eridan holding a large, slightly battered tome in his hands.

"Found it. Wwe havve a feww minutes to spare, so wwhy don't wwe head back?"

The teens all nodded in agreement. Eridan turned to face Fred, who still had the tome in his hands, and smiled.

"The Manuscripts of Ancient-Modern Alternia, includin the Disciple's Scripture. Good Choice."

They made their way back down into the chamber. Along the way Eridan took them on a detour to see more of the warship he called home, and even let them catch a glimpse at what the planet was like outside. The sky was a dark purple, and the stars, so foreign and unfamiliar, were shining bright. It was then that the teens noticed the moons, and Luna gave out a chiming laugh as she pointed to them through the strangely shaped windows. One moon was a lime green, and was far larger than their pale moon back home, and the other one was even larger, having a more magenta hue. Peering closer, Harry also saw a much smaller moon orbiting the pink moon. Both large moons were currently in a waxing crescent. It was all so beautifully bizarre, and the emerald eyed teen had to remind himself that this was the place Eridan called home, this was home to billions, maybe more, other trolls that inhabited this planet. What else was different about Alternia? Turning to the troll, who was capchalogging his Lusus once more, Harry had another thought.

What else was different about trolls?

Harry supposed he'll just have to find out.

When the Order went to fetch the teens for bed, they were met with a curious sight. Ron and Eridan were in an intense round of chess, with the other teens cheering for either one side or another. Both the human and the troll were tied for the win, and for once with a game involving the youngest Weasley boy, it was going to be a close match. The red haired boy moved his knight forward, taking Eridan's rook, but Eridan just smirked as he moved his pawn to the end of the board, changing it into a queen.

"Checkmate."

Everyone was suddenly silent. For once, it was Ron on the losing side, and the teen gaped at the smirking troll, before grinning widely.

"That was probably the best game I've played, even if I lost." Harry snorted at this.

"That's because you usually beat us within a ten minute time frame, mate."

A cough from Mrs. Weasley alerted them that it was time for bed, and Eridan was pulled aside.

"I know that's it's been a rather long day for you, dear, but until the Order deems you as completely safe, you will be sleeping in a separate room." Eridan just shrugged.

"Fine wwith me, I already brought wwhat I needed anywways."

He was lead to a small room with a bed, and promptly removed the human sleeping contraption. When Molly Weasley asked why, he told her that trolls didn't sleep on beds, and proceeded to uncapchalog his recupracoon. The teens stared at it, much like Sirius did when he first saw it, and asked Eridan how it worked.

It took a few minutes to explain how trolls slept in cocoons filled with green sopor slime, which was breathable and actually dissolved before it could choke or block the airways. Eridan also explained that a troll's second eyelid (they seemed to be awed at the mere fact that he had a second set of eyelids) was slightly transparent so that they could see inside the slime without the sopor getting into their eyes. Then there were the woes of the sopor slime, mainly how difficult it was to wash off normal clothes and the fact that purposefully ingesting it made you stoned. None of the teens minded the extra minutes spent there, since it was just so interesting to hear about sleeping in a cocoon full of slime, apparently. Eridan thought that they got worked up over the simplest things.

However, it was even more amusing (yet slightly embarrassing) when he walked out in his swimming trunks, ready for the night. The girls squealed and picked him up, much to his displeasure, and started to go off about different parts of his body. First it was his earfins, which were much more noticeable without the scarf blocking their view, to the gills on the sides of his neck and upper torso, to his grub scars (the circle shaped scars left from where the middle pair of grub legs fell off during the troll's chrysalis stage), to his larger-than-a-human's eyes, to his feet. Honestly, how was he supposed to know that their feet were different?

The girls actually started their strange cooing when they saw his feet, of which the balls of his feet were much larger, letting the troll raise to his hackles to run faster. They only had three toes, and a seadweller like Eridan had thin webbing between each. But the reason why they were cooing was because of his paw-pads, the velvety pads that helped keep traction on the ground for running. He had one beneath each toe and covering the balls of his feet. The girls kept rubbing it and cooing at how much he was like a puppy or a kitten and it was really freaking him out.

It was when the boys started to do it as well when Eridan decided to abscond to his room.

Closing the door, the violet blooded troll let out a small sigh. It really had been a hectic day, but it was educating, and fascinating beyond belief, so he wasn't complaining. Humans were strange creatures, moreso than Eridan had anticipated. Their morals were based off of mammals and so they had definitions for things that he had never even heard of, though he was positive that if he were exposed to it long enough, maybe he would start to understand.

Tomorrow was another day, and according to Severus, it was the day they started to help him catch up on a sweep's worth of magical training. First they would go shopping for his wand, and then the lessons would start. He would have Transfiguration with Minerva McGonagall, Potions with Severus Snape, Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic with Remus Lupin, Flying with Sirius (whose last name, Eridan found out, was Black), Herbology with Neville Longbottom, Charms with Luna Lovegood, and for any other study he was to consult either a Professor or Hermione Granger. All of the subjects sounded absolutely intriguing, and Eridan couldn't wait to get started. He remembered the deal he had made with Snape, and would be sure not to let him down, not to let any of them down.

As he sunk into his recupracoon and let the sopor drag him downwards into sleep, the violet blooded troll decided that following a human to his home planet to learn magic and fight a war against a genocidal maniac was one of the best decisions he had ever made, and he couldn't wait until he actually started using magic.

Eridan was up rather early in the morning, far too excited to go back to sleep after knowing the plans for the day. Fortunately, as he went downstairs to eat at the table, he was met with yet another early riser.

"Good Morning, Mr. Ampora."

"Good Mornin, Professor Snape."

As Severus took some Earth fruits and placed them in a bowl, Eridan uncapchalogged a small thermal hull. Taking out some Alternian fruits, he set them on nutrition plateau that he got from the cabinet above the sink. Severus regarded them curiously, and they stared at each other for a little while. Soundlessly, the two of them pushed their respective dishes to the other, and began to study the fruits that came from another planet.

"So wwhat are these…vviolet…?"

"Plums. What are these tan round ones?"

"Peachoney. Wwhat's these strange lookin red ones?"

"Strawberries. What..."

This went on for a little while, each discussing the different climates of their planets, and tasting the fruits. Eridan almost gagged on the strawberries because he thought they weren't sweet enough, and Severus made a face when he took a bite out of a fruit that folded out like a flower (it was far too sweet). It was explained to the Potions Master a troll's love for sweet foods, to which Severus drew similarities to nectar-drinking insects, which also preferred sweets substances. This lead to a discussion on the evolution of both mammals and insects, and how two completely different species managed to become strikingly similar as they walked into the living room, sitting together on a couch. Talk turned to Potions after that, and Severus explained to the bright little alien on the one he'd have to drink to maintain a human disguise.

"Considering that we will most likely buy your wand today, you will have to drink the potion. It's a diluted version, so it will only last ten hours. The concentrated version will last approximately a week, and will be administered by myself, understood?"

"Yes." Eridan said with a nod.

Severus pulled out a vial from his robe pocket, letting the small troll examine the contents. It was a bright scarlet, but had a kind of mirror-like sheen, similar to mercury. With two fingers he took the vial.

"You will need to drink it before you leave. Furthermore, we have no idea what your alibi would be until we know what your human guise will look it. Black wanted to claim you as his son, but if you look nothing like him, then the idea would be completely ludicrous." At the mention of Sirius, Snape had grimaced to himself.

"You don't like Sirius much, I take it?" Snape sneered at this.

"We despise each other." Eridan suppressed a wicked grin.

"Could you say that you twwo wwere mortal enemies, compete rivvals?" Severus seemed surprised at the question, as if his description was on target.

"…More or less. Why do you ask?" This time the small seadweller couldn't suppress the smirk that spread on his face.

"Nothin. No reason. Not until I havve more information, that is." Severus rolled his eyes at Eridan's smirk.

"We are far too much alike for comfort. It makes me wonder if your human guise will be similar to me as well."

"Only one wway to find out." Eridan replied with a shrug, uncapping the vial and downing the contents.

A choking gasp escaped his lips and a hand flew to his throat.

"Fuck!" he swore in Alternian.

It was as if he had swallowed liquid fire, or lava, or condensed sunlight. Every fiber of his being burned. His horns felt like they were frying, before he lost the feeling of their comforting weight. However, he could still sense the amusement rolling off of Severus as the potion took effect. Eridan's eyeballs shrunk slightly, and he felt his fins and eartips contract. Sharp interlocking teeth burned into square enamel, his long tongue shortening to the point where he couldn't properly see it. Then his gills started to melt into his skin, even though he could still feel the water drops in the air. Claws transformed into flimsy human fingernails, and Eridan's hands burned as a fourth finger shot out for each one. His feet shrunk slightly, his toes shrinking to make way for two more digits on either side, and his pads became nonexistent. Eridan now clutched the arm of the couch as the rest of his body burned, his exoskeleton melting into nothingness, his grey epidermis becoming that strange fleshy substance that stained pale, similar to Severus and Harry.

Then, the pain stopped.

Eridan turned to face Severus, who was merely staring at him with a single eyebrow raised. The human-disguised troll tilted his head in question, and Severus's lip seemed to do a little dance between quirking upwards in amusement and downwards to a scowl. A small wave of disapproval came from the man. Silently, Snape stood up, and beckoned Eridan to follow. He ended up leading the small troll to a large standing mirror.

Oh Empress.

Just like he thought, Eridan had pale human skin, like he had never had any sunlight in his life. His sclera was now white, but his irises were thankfully still carrying their violet hue (mentally comparing himself to the humans, he also noted that his eyes still appeared to be larger, so even if his eyes were narrow like Severus's, they would still appear childlike). Freckles dotted his face, much more prominent than they were as a troll, and now he had normal colored lips with a single row of white, square teeth. Tilting his head to the side, Eridan stuck his tongue out to find it fatter with a bright pink hue. Picking up a pinky between his shorter forefinger and thumb, he examined the extra digit at eye level. Absentmindedly he also took off a ring from his middle finger and placed it on the newest appendage. There, that was better.

Looking upwards, he noticed that his hair stayed the same, but he was still uncomfortable not seeing his horns. Speaking of which, without the horns, the cowl of his cape made him look slightly ridiculous, so he capchalogged it.

Without his fangs, claws horns, exoskeleton, and basically anything that marked him as a troll, Eridan realized that he did indeed appear to be some sort of helpless child. Fixing his large glasses, which had been knocked askew by his reaction to the potion, Eridan peered at his new guise once more. With the pale skin, thin toned figure, large glasses, and raven hair, he looked quite a bit like a certain jadeblood eyed human. Severus must have picked up on this similarity, which was probably the root of the man's disapproval. Eridan put his palms together and touched the tips of his forefingers to his lips.

He watched his reflection stare right back at him, and didn't notice as one of the rings cut into his lip. It was only when he tasted blood that he jerked his fingers back. There, on his lip, was blood. Blood that was still his normal violet hue. Internally Eridan let out a large sigh of relief. He may have been alright with disguising as a human, but his blood color defined who he was, and losing that would have been exceptionally distressing. Licking the blood up, he put pressure on the small wound until it bound up.

"You heal rather rapidly."

"Maybe you humans heal extremely slowwly." Eridan quipped, trying to make sense of this stranger in the mirror.

"I take it you are a bit disorientated with your new form?"

"I can adapt, just knowwin that it's temporary helps. Bein a human forevver, evven as a disguise, wwould be dreadful."

Severus decided at this point to glance at a clock hanging off the wall.

"It is still somewhat early, everyone else will probably not wake until around eight o'clock, so shall we get started on your potions training? You won't need a wand for that." Eridan simply nodded in reply.

Time to prove to the man he wasn't as big of an idiot as Severus thought he was.

Severus really shouldn't have doubted that an alien which learned a foreign language (with previous study on the written and with the use of a Translation Stone, but nonetheless) in a matter of hours would be able to understand potions without a problem simply because he had previous knowledge on the concept of chemistry. The alien child actually completed the two years of potions knowledge (the practical would have to wait until later, for now the theories would have to do) within three hours (though Severus had lent Eridan his own first, second, and third year textbooks, which had his notes scribbled on the margins). So now, here they were, studying the third year textbook on the couch. It was refreshing to talk to someone in this dratted dilapidated household, which belonged to the most impulsive man he had ever met, that was actually intellectually capable of holding complex theoretical conversations.

So refreshing that, for once, Severus hadn't realized that at some point, Eridan had drifted off to sleep, and was leaning against him. When he finally noticed, he simply stopped talking, closed the textbook, took out a novel, and began to read.

This was how Molly found them when she finally awoke to cook the household her famously delicious breakfast, passing by quietly as to not disturb the wondrous miracle that was Severus Tobias Snape acting like a parent. She did, however, take a double-take when she realized that Eridan looked human, before her eyes landed on the empty vial on the table. Ah, he must have taken Severus's potion then. No matter how much he argued against the fact, the boy's position right now told Molly all she needed to know. Eridan was still a child, a dangerous, murderous child, but a child nonetheless, and Molly always took care of her children. Always made sure they were well fed, well cared for, and safe. She wanted to hold onto the last one for as long as possible, and the war was not making it any easier. What mother would let her children fight while she still could? The red haired matron shook herself of those thoughts, and turned back to the sight on the couch.

He looked so adorably cute curled up next to the usually irate Potions Master, and Molly fervently wished that she had one of those Muggle cameras that Arthur was always ranting about. Oh well, Molly thought to herself as she began to prepare the ingredients for a breakfast for many, perhaps she could convince Albus to let her use the Pensieve.

Cracking the eggs and whisking them in a bowl, she cautiously checked the grandfather clock that the Order had made a copy of for her. Molly knew she couldn't shield her babies forever, she knew that they were growing to be strong people, but her heart skipped a beat every time she found out they were out risking their lives again. It hurt to think that one day, she may hear that they had died, sacrificing themselves.

Fabian and Gideon were welcomed home as heroes, lying still, lifeless, in their wooden coffins. Molly would have given almost anything to have had her brothers stay home, alive and well, instead of dying in the war.

She poured the milk, the butter, and the flour into the bowl, and started to mix them together with a large wooden spoon. Last night, when they were in the Order meeting, out of the corner of her eye, she saw it. The hands of the clock for Fred, George, Ronald and Ginny moved from 'Home' to 'Away' and Molly was absolutely terrified. A few minutes before the meeting concluded, the hands had moved back to the 'Home' position, and she internally gave a large sigh of relief.

Pouring the batter onto well-oiled frying pans, Molly absentmindedly checked the clock again. She dared not confront them on their outing, because they needed freedom, air to breathe away from their parents. She just wished that they wouldn't do it so often, in the middle of a war. They were her children, and how could she protect them if they were away?

And now she felt the same strain when she looked at Harry, who was like a son to her, Neville and Luna, whose parents were indisposed, and most recently the little alien boy that was sleeping on the couch, the one that never had a family.

Perhaps that's why he and Severus got along so well, neither truly had a family, and unlike Sirius, did not seek out another. They simply grew up rapidly, became colder, harsher, treating the world as if it were a constant battlefield. But when they found a kindred spirit… Well, those results can be seen quite clear, Molly thought to herself as she glanced at the two on the couch, smiling.

The smell of pancakes wafted into the air, and Molly counted the seconds before the first footfalls from upstairs resounded above her.

Eridan woke up with a jolt as his ears detected large amounts of noise. This is what saved him from embarrassment as he jumped down off the couch before anyone could see him vulnerable like that. His cheeks tinged violet as he gave an apologetic glace to Severus, but the Potions Professor just waved it off. The smell of pancakes (yes, Alternia had pancakes) wafted through his cartilaginous nub and he pattered into the kitchen, where he was met with a smile from the hivehold matriarch.

"Pancakes, dear?"

He blinked in surprise. She didn't comment on his now-human form, perhaps she was used to magic so much that some things flew over her head? Nevertheless, he nodded in affirmation, and she placed a plate of fresh pancakes in front of him, along with a container of dark honey-colored tree sap.

As he poured the sap onto his pancakes, Eridan was met with the sight of a gaggle of sleepy, bed headed humans. They gratefully accepted the plates from Molly Weasley, sitting down at the table to eat. It took ten minutes for one of them to finally note his existence.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" was Ron Weasley's groggy eloquent query.

This caused the rest of the humans to face him in confusion. At this point, Severus decided to make his entrance, giving his thanks to the red haired woman before nonchalantly sitting next to him. Giving a small smirk, Severus said in a smooth voice.

"Greetings again, Mr. Ampora."

A sleepy Sirius Black snapped into focus, wide eyes scanning Eridan's form up and down.

"E-Eridan?!"

"Yes?" the troll drawled.

"Y-You…you're…"

"I took the potion early so that you adults could find some sort of backstory for me early. So noww I look human." He gestured to himself.

Sirius was still in shock at what he was seeing, and frankly, so was everyone else.

"Aww," came the voice of the pink haired girl, Tonks, "he's even cuter than he was last night!"

Eridan banged his head against the kitchen table, which made the breakfast goers roar in laughter.

Chapter Text

"Now, repeat it again."

"My name is Eridanus Caligula Ampora-Black, offsprin of Sirius Orion Black and my 'half-blood' mother Mary Emma Ampora. I wwas bein tutored at home in magic, and wwas cut off from the rest of the wworld because my mother wwas afraid my father wwould find out he had a son. Noww that Sirius Black is on the run, she sent me to Hogwwarts for protection."

"Perfect."

"Question."

"Yes, Mr. Ampora?"

"Wwhy am I Sirius's son? And wwhy the wwhole 'Eridanus' thin? My name is Eridan, if you havven't noticed. Furthermore, if Sirius had already broken into Hogwwarts, wwhy wwould my 'mother' think it wwas safe for me to go?"

The sidelong glance Sirius was given by Remus told Harry exactly why Eridan was posing as his son.

"Because Sirius in his younger days was… wild to put it mildly. I myself wouldn't be surprised if he ended up having a son somewhere. Also, this gives you leeway to keep most of your name. Eridan is a name completely unheard of on Earth, and a muggle certainly wouldn't use it for their child, but Eridanus is a constellation."

"And that matters… wwhy?"

"It is tradition for the Black family to name their children after stars, constellations, or other celestial bodies. This ties in with you being Sirius's son, a Black who's known to, er…"

"I get it, he pailed evveryone in sight."

Sirius choked on his tea. Sputters and coughs sounded from the teens and Harry tried not to break out laughing.

"I'm going to pretend I know what that means and continue. For your last point, that's a very good question."

"You could say that she's becoming a little mad lately." Harry offered with a grin, twirling his finger around his ear and watching the frown on Eridan's face deepen.

"So my fictional mother is doin a pirouette off the fuckin handle and I'm goin to the boardin school because it's evven more dangerous to be around her at this time."

The deadpan voice and Eridan's almost pouty glare was almost too much. Tonks was right, he really did look cuter as a human. Take away the claws, the teeth and the horns, Eridan looked a lot like Harry did in his third year. No wonder Mrs. Weasley wanted to coddle him. However, the problem was, Eridan wasn't just a normal human. He was a troll, an alien, a really dangerous alien. Granted, he and Harry had a truce now, but the emerald eyed teen had seen what the seadweller could do, and the last thing he wanted to do was get on Troll Voldemort's bad side. Equally so, Harry was excited on what Eridan was going to do once they get to Hogwarts. After all, you couldn't just put a leash on a genocidal sociopath.

If you could, well, Voldemort wouldn't have existed now, wouldn't he?

"Yeah Eridan, basically." Harry chuckled out.

"Is this alibi okay for you, Mr. Ampora?" Eridan huffed at Shacklebolt's not-question.

"It's…doable. I'vve heard wworse."

He sounded impatient, the troll probably wanted to get out of Grimmauld Place to get his school things. You know, wand, quills, parchment, potions ingredients, and some other things that Harry had already forgotten about. They were going to get him new school textbooks, but Eridan had already gotten attached to Snape's old Potions textbook and Hermione's third year textbooks (no seriously, he was hugging the tomes as if they were teddy bears, it was kind of disturbing seeing that on someone that wasn't Hermione) that they really needn't have bothered even entertaining the thought.

So here they were now, getting ready to go to Diagon Alley to pick up their supplies, while Kingsley Shacklebolt drilled Eridan on his alibi. Harry was quite sure that Sirius had something to do with Eridan masquerading as his son, by the smirk of triumph that he sent Snape's way. He knew a rivalry when he saw it, and nothing good can come from one with both Sirius Black and Severus Snape. Before he could dwell on the subject any further, Eridan growled in frustration.

"What's wrong, kiddo?" Sirius asked the apparently struggling troll.

"Wwhy are robes this difficult to put on!?" ground out Eridan, fiddling with the clasp to no avail.

"You've…" stared George, circling the human disguised seadweller.

"Got it on…" carried on Fred, who took the cloak off of Eridan.

"Backwards." they finished in unison, putting the cloak on the right way, and the small alien rolled his eyes at their antics, giving them a short 'thank-you' for helping him.

"You know, the cloak still looks a tad large on him." Tonks commented, "Do you have anything smaller?"

"Unfortunately, everything else was too small for him," replied Mr. Weasley, "The one we've got now is the best fit. Not everything has to be perfect, you know."

"True," added Hermione, "But don't most purebloods have a thing for perfection? I highly doubt that even with the Black name Eridan will be well-received."

Harry never thought of that. Purebloods did have the tendency to dress impeccably, so why not have it be some strange, unspoken rule? The behavior of people like Malfoy would make much more sense if one were to imply these methods of gauging social standing. As they pondered over what they should do, Mrs. Weasley came downstairs with something in her arms. It was a small black cloak, with the Black crest on it.

"This is…" Sirius started, but the sentence died in his mouth.

"…Your old robes, I know dear. I thought that since it wasn't really worn that often," she gave a pointed look at the grim animagus, "that little Eridan could get some use out of it."

"Wwho are you callin 'little'?" the troll squeaked indignantly.

"I think that's a wonderful idea, Molly." Dumbledore said, coming into the kitchen with a cup of tea in his hands, avoiding Harry's gaze.

Mrs. Weasley beamed at the compliment.

"A fantastic alibi as well, though I do have a small question. Why 'Mary Emma' Ampora? Is there a purpose or was it chosen simply at random?" Dumbledore asked, and the wizards in the room shrugged.

"Eridan was the one that chose the name, so maybe it means something to him."

When Dumbledore turned to the aforementioned troll, Eridan smirked.

"It's an…inside joke. One of my friends is the closest to bein 'motherly' as a troll could get, so I made a reference to her. Makes it easier to remember."

"Oh is that so? I would like to meet her one of these days." Dumbledore said, smiling genially.

Eridan chuckled darkly at this.

"Trust me wwhen I say it wwould be best if you of all people did not come into contact wwith Kanaya Maryam."

Eridan knew by now that nothing in the Wizarding World was what it seemed, but when he was shown the entrance to this supposed 'Diagon Alley', he was rather unimpressed.

"Wwhat in the name of the undefinable and sagacious members of the Horrorterror's Inner Ring is this?"

"I told you this would be interesting!"

The Leaky Cauldron, as the humans called the place, was the most unkempt, shambolic place he had ever laid eyes on. There was more grime on the bar-top than there was on the windows of 12 Grimmauld Place, and that was saying something. It was dirty, dingy, and dusty, and Eridan was certain that had this been Alternia, the owner would have been culled publicly to show what an absolute disgrace to hygiene he was. This was the entrance to the area where he must purchase his goods? The human-troll wrinkled his nose at the thought. He really hoped the bar was just a front.

He was led into the back area, where all the trash seemed to be located in one single corner. A brick wall blocked their path to anywhere else, but Eridan noticed that some bricks were more worn than others. So there was a hidden entrance then, clever. Mr. Weasley stepped forward and taped the worn bricks in an order that Eridan memorized for later (you know… just in case) and the wall started to shake. Eridan watched in unhidden awe as the bricks began to systematically move and snap into each other, forming a large arched passageway to what laid beyond.

And what laid beyond was a sight Eridan couldn't even comprehend.

The sheer amount of people dressed in robes was almost painful to watch as humans bustled, pushed, shoved, and weaved their way to wherever their destination was. Some wore pointy hats, others had odd patterns on their robes. Cobblestone paths guided the way where the Alley branched out, ageless and strong against the many feet that trampled on it constantly. The buildings that held shops were nothing like anything on Alternia, as instead of the geometrical shapes that were usually made of concrete for an Alternian store, these were mostly wood and brick and metal, bent into ornate shapes that were incredibly artistic. Some humans were standing outside holding their wares, shouting prices or advertising their goods, others were carrying beasthide bags as if they had no weight, and some were haggling the street vendors.

It was strange, it was loud, it was…colorful. Never before had Eridan seen such color mixed together to form an array of shades like this. Most buildings in Alternia, and the inhabitants within, were always just varying shades of grey. Eridan didn't mind that, it was all the seadweller ever knew. Colors meant things to trolls. It meant social standing and identification. But humans didn't have such a thing. Their blood was always red, and even that wasn't important. Humans had the luxury of painting their building in green, yellow, black, red, blue without any repercussions whatsoever, having the shades mash together like a Subjugglator gone wild. It was chaotic and undeniably beautiful.

"Is he alright?"

"Let him have his moment, I don't think he's ever seen anything like it."

This snapped the troll out of his stupor, who turned to look at his group. They all had matching grins.

"Well? What do you think?"

"It's amazin…" was all Eridan could say.

At this point, they all split up into smaller groups, with Severus handling Eridan to give the troll a better alibi. After all, a professor showing around a transfer student wasn't all that uncommon. Therefore they all parted ways and Eridan was led by the hand further into the jungle that was Diagon Alley. Even so, the small seadweller realized that they were going on the straight path towards a rather impressive marble building that stood at the end of the center pathway.

"We shall be stopping at Gringotts first, as we will need to get your funds in check. Sirius has placed you as one of his heirs, so we will most likely be withdrawing from the Black Family Vault. A word of caution however, Mr. Ampora, the bank is handled, run, and guarded by an Earth race called Goblins. They are prideful and vicious race, and will treat you right only if you give them respect as well." supplied Severus as they neared the white building and its burnished bronze doors.

"Sounds like trolls, nothing I can't handle." Eridan whispered back, his head lowered so that to an outsider listener he was simply mumbling a nervous reply.

When they got closer, Eridan managed to make out the details on the door, as well as the newly titled Goblins that stood on either side of the entrance, wearing uniforms of scarlet and gold. They were rather short, only coming to Eridan's torso, and had a militaristic gleam in their eye that Eridan had seen on every troll, including himself. They were still fleshy beings, but they seemed to hold a higher intelligence than the humans did. This brought to mind the 'short flesh bags' that Dualscar had talked about with his trading agreements, and wondered if his ancestor was referring to these Goblins. It seemed incredibly likely. As they passed the set of bronze doors the Goblin bowed to them, not in respect but in polite greeting.

Next came a pair of shimmering silver doors, and had an engraved message upon them.

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

Clever use of rhyme and prose, all neatly organized in a delightful warning for anyone who passes through. Eridan liked them already. The two Goblins that were standing guard there bowed to them, but made no move to open the doors. Instead, Severus opened it himself, with his human-looking charge trailing behind. However, when Eridan passed the Goblins this time, he heard a short gasp, and suddenly he was bombarded by waves of wonder and reverence. Turning around, the two Goblins (as well as the ones from the bronze door) were staring at him in awe. Immediately he leveled his shoulders and gave him his normal Violet Blood gaze. This time, all four Goblins bowed, not just in politeness, but in respect. Eridan simply nodded once before rejoining his guide.

What the troll was met with was a vast marble hall. About a hundred more Goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, and examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more Goblins were showing humans in and out of these. Yet when he stepped in, he could feel all their eyes on him. Then, to his surprise, he heard them speak in what he assumed was their native tongue. This wouldn't have surprised him if it weren't for the fact that their language, despite being from another planet altogether, was strikingly like Alternian. In fact, with a little improvised thought, Eridan could actually pick out what they were saying.

"Could it be?"

"It must be, don't you feel his power?"

"This must be the Orphaner Dualscar's descendent."

"Does that human have any idea who he is in the presence of?"

Curious, so the Goblins revered his ancestor, did they? Judging by the fact that they spoke a bastardized version of Alternian, and Alternian was by far the older language, then Dualscar might have been one of the Goblins first contacts. If Eridan's deduction was correct (and let's be honest, it usually was) then Dualscar must have helped jumpstart the Goblin race, or even the Magical World as a whole. Being the descendant of someone like that was daunting, but only slightly. After all, he was a Highblood.

Severus seemed to pay no heed to the staring Goblins, but the customers did. Their angry mutters on who he was and why the Goblins were regarding him in such a way made Eridan want to smirk viciously. The troll joined Severus at one of the available counters, gazing at the Goblin behind it imperially. This time Severus discreetly glanced around, noticed by only Eridan himself, and turned back to the Goblin in front of him, excreting a small sense of confusion. Silently the Goblin, whose name according to bronze nametag was named Ragnok, rose from his seat.

"Follow me, descendant of Dualscar the Orphaner. Your human guide may follow."

Eridan noiselessly followed after the Goblin, beckoning Severus to do the same. They were led into sweeping corridors that Goblins were filing in and out of, only stopping to stare at the human-disguised troll as they passed. The troll kept his imperious gaze as he followed Ragnok to wherever the Goblin intended to take him. Even though his instincts told him that everything was perfectly safe, Eridan's experience and paranoia caused him to keep part of his conscious thought on his Strife Specibus, just in case. They made their way so far into the building that the walls turned from white marble into stones not unlike the ones that made up the Archway Chamber back on Alternia.

Eventually they reached another large set of double doors, made of a very dark metal. Ragnok stepped in front of it and dragged a single claw (oh, Eridan was beginning to miss the feel of his claws already, even though he knew they were there) down the front of the tall slabs. Immediately Eridan picked up on the flush of magic that felt much more like home than the magic of the humans flow around him and past him. It was then that the Goblin turned to Severus, who was no doubt mildly confused about the situation.

"Only the Descendant of Dualscar the Orphaner should go through these doors. Stay here."

Severus and Eridan shared a look and nodded in unison, with the human stepping away from the door as Ragnok put his palm into an indentation within the metal. Without even a squeak of the hinges, the two giant doors opened all on their own, and the Goblin led them inside.

Eridan found himself in an office that seemed to follow most of the rules for a highblood's office, with its decorations and piles of treasure (though to be fair, he knew a high-end midblood that decorated quite the same way). A large desk made of the same wood as most of the Alternian forests sat near the end of the office, and the Goblin sitting behind it seemed to know it too by the way he was caressing the top of it as his eyes bore into Eridan's own violet irises.

The Goblin behind the desk looked very old indeed, and Eridan absentmindedly wondered if he was old enough to have met his ancestor all those many sweeps ago. Ragnok bowed to the mystery Goblin, and turned to address Eridan.

"Descendant of Dualscar the Orphaner, this is Gringrit the Knowing, the great great grandson of Gringotts, who was the founder of this bank and Dualscar the Orphaner's partner in trades between Earth and Alternia."

Gringrit nodded sagely at Ragnok, who bowed politely and ducked out of the office, joining Severus outside. It was then that the wizened Goblin turned to Eridan, motioning for the troll to sit down on the guest seat. The seadweller gave the rather comfortable looking violet chair a critical eye before cautiously sitting down. As soon as he did, he felt even more magic was over him. Glancing down at himself, Eridan observed that he was once again a troll. He raised a single eyebrow at Gringrit.

"Your disguise will resume as soon as you leave this room, Descendant of Dualscar the Orphaner." Spoke Gringrit in perfect Alternian, "I am honored to be in your presence. It is the duty of my clan to watch over the accounts of your bloodline. I must say, Dualscar was not joking when he told me descendants were splitting images of their ancestors, you look just like him without those glasses."

"That is vvery kind of you to say, and I also graciously thank you for speakin in the proper fashion. Your Goblin vversion sounds far too coarse for my likin." Gringrit chuckled at Eridan's distaste.

"Ah yes, us Goblins had taken to your Alternian language and chose to make it our own, with a few altercations of course. It was your ancestor who taught us the language that was far more practical than the one we were using at the time. Your ancestor did many things, not only for the Goblin Race, but for the Magical World as a whole. His magical power was unmatched, and I can sense that you are the same way. Which brings us to why you are here. I assume you want to know what he has left within the vaults on Earth?"

"But of course. My ancestor wwas nothin but secretivve about his life, only mentionin Earth vvaguely and its inhabitants evven more so. I also knoww, howwevver, that he wwas as paranoid as I am, so he must havve left quite a bit behind on Earth so that no troll could steal it."

"Clever, very clever indeed," said Gringrit with a vicious grin, "I so do enjoy non-human charges, they are just so much more intelligent. Yes, he left quite the hoard behind, but our magic made sure to keep it secure and safe."

Gringrit took out a roll of empty parchment from his desk and placed it on the table, smoothing it out. He then took out a silver dagger and proceeded to hand it over to Eridan.

"This is a specially treated parchment used for bloodline inheritance. To access your vaults you will have to place three drops of blood onto the parchment."

Eridan took the knife and pricked his finger, making sure three drops of his royal violet blood landed onto the parchment. As he did so, he watched as Gringrit marveled at the shade of violet, and the troll had to remind himself that the only blood the Goblin would have seen would have been red. After the three drops dripped into the parchment, Eridan stuck the finger in his mouth, putting pressure to seal the small wound. The blood sunk into the empty parchment, and for a few seconds it stayed blank. Then suddenly, violet ink in the same shade as his blood started to flow onto the parchment, organizing itself into writing.

Heir: Eridan Ampora

Race: Alternian Troll (Seadweller, Violet Blood)

Inherited House Vaults: Ampora (birthright), Ravenclaw (possessor of House Ring through last will of Heidi Ravenclaw, descendant of Rowena Ravenclaw), Peverell (possessor of House Ring through last will of William Peverell, descendant of Antioch Peverell), Black (through the naming of Sirius Black, last heir of the Black Line)

"Well this is rather interesting, I was expecting the first one, obviously, but Ravenclaw and Peverell? How curious… Ah well, the parchment does not lie. Congratulations, Lord Ampora, you are the heir to four of the oldest and greatest lines in Earth history. To open a vault, simply use the House Ring as the key, there should be an indentation for it."

Gringrit opened a drawer behind his desk once more, this one had so many protection magicks that Eridan's horns felt the buzz from where he was sitting.

"Here. This is the ring for House Ampora. I am sure you will wear it with pride."

"Indeed I wwill." Eridan answered, taking the ring (which was gold with his identification symbol marked out in amethysts) and giving the old Goblin a polite bow, "I wwill be off noww, good day to you, Gringrit."

"And to you, Lord Ampora."

With that, Eridan turned around and strode out of the office, feeling the magic of the room slide off of him and, as the old Goblin had assured, his human disguise was once more in place by the time he left the double metal doors. Severus was waiting patiently by the door, as was Ragnok, and none of them said a word as the three of them walked away. Eridan fiddled with the new ring on the middle finger on his right hand, deciding to check out the vaults later. For now, all he needed was the strange magical human currency. While getting items from inside the vaults sounded appealing, Eridan's better reasoning shone through. There will always be time for that, but right now his disguise was for a limited time and he couldn't take too many chances.

"Vvault of Ampora, if you wwill." Eridan commanded the Goblin.

They were led to what look to be a rickety cart on a lone track. Ragnok motioned for them to get inside, and when they were all stowed inside the mine cart, the Goblin pulled a lever and the archaic metal rolling contraption shot down into the insanity below. The speed that they were going at reminded Eridan of roller coasters, and his seafaring days prevented him from even the mere idea that he might get sick on the ride. They travelled deeper into the caverns, going further than any of the other vaults. Eridan expected this, as he mused that Dualscar might have been one of the banks first customers.

The cart rolled to a stop at what appeared to be the end of the tracks, and Eridan looked at the vault they had come to in barely disguised awe. The imposing doors on the Ampora Vault was larger than even the door to Gringrit's office, and was heavily studded with all kinds of defenses on its violet panels. Like the old Goblin had said, there was a small indentation on one of the doors and Eridan swiftly launched himself out of the cart with the ease of dismounting his Lusus, pressing the ring against the indentation. Immediately the doors opened majestically, and Eridan was greeted to a sight that he was sure would have rendered Serket catatonic. The vault was incredibly vast, probably the same size as his WarshipHive back on Alternia. Mountains of the same bronze, silver, and gold coins that cluttered his hive were stacked so neatly that Eridan didn't dare touch them, and the gems and other artifacts were all organized by size and color in an impeccable fashion.

Eridan was just about to leave the vault (he already had the money from his hive in his Sylladex, why take any more?) when he caught sight of something near the left hand side. Bookshelves, filled with tomes of all sorts. It was then that the small troll threw any reason out the window to investigate this goldmine of knowledge. As he scanned the amazingly preserved books, one of the covers caught his eye.

The Angels of Aquarius: The True Power of the Ampora Line by Eridanus the Purifier

Another one by the Purifier? This might be something to help with the Parasite research, he thought, so Eridan immediately capchalogged it. He was about to resume exploring the tomes when Eridan heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. Severus was standing near the entrance with a single eyebrow raised, causing the troll to roll his eyes and walk out of the vault, the doors closing behind him.

"We still have the rest of Diagon Alley to see, Mr. Ampora, let's not waste too much time at Gringotts shall we?" Severus told the seadweller with his lips quirked upwards.

"Vvery true. Let's go then."

After a short cart trip back to the main Gringotts floor (Severus's face was starting to turn green) the duo bade farewell to Ragnok and headed out of the bank. Once again Eridan was exposed to the sights and sounds of the Alley, and the Potions Master simply rolled his eyes and took the human-troll by the wrist to get to their first destination. Severus dragged the starry-eyed violet bloods in a stationary shop, where they bought parchment and ink, with Eridan getting a violet quill (and several extras, just in case the flimsy squackbeast feathered writing implements broke on him). Along the way, the dour Potions Master explained the eccentricities of Wizarding currency.

"The gold coin is called a Galleon, it is the largest denomination of currency used. The bronze coins are called Knuts, and they are the smallest denomination. The silver ones are called Sickles."

At the mention of the silver coin's name, Eridan's mind jumped to the other meaning of sickle, and the troll couldn't help but think of a certain mutant-blooded sickle-wielding troll who wore silver contacts. How was he faring on Alternia? Did he tell anyone else about Eridan's voyage to another planet? If so, would they care? What was Fef doing? Her Lusus would be fine until the end of the Earth year, he supposed, so she wouldn't need him until then. He wondered if any of them missed him at all.

"…Twenty nine Knuts are worth a Sickle, and seventeen Sickles are worth a Galleon… are you listening to me, Mr. Ampora?"

Severus's voice snapped the violet-blooded troll out of his reverie.

"Yes, I memorized it all, Professor." he replied with a nod.

"Very good, then you can repeat it to me." Severus said with a raised eyebrow.

"Knuts are bronze, Sickles are slivver, Galleons are gold. There are twenty nine Knuts in a Sickle and sevventeen Sickles in a Galleon." Eridan reiterated with a smirk.

The Potions Professor simply rolled his eyes and dragged the small alien in disguise their next destination, which just happened to be a place called Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Like any clothing shop should be, it was filled with robes and fabrics and accessories, all spread apart so that the consumer could see the wares properly. Eridan appraised the shop with what Karkat liked to call his 'fashion police' eye, and nodded to himself. It was decent enough, and even Maryam might have approved, though she probably would have suggested varying the shades a little more.

Miss Malkin was a rather squat human, all dressed in mauve. She smiled genuinely as she walked up to them, but her eyes widened in confusion when they landed on Eridan.

"Mr. Potter, is that you?" she asked with a baffled look on her face.

"No, though they do bear resemblance don't they?" answered Severus smoothly, "This is Eridanus Ampora, bastard son of Sirius Black. However, as you can see, the man has made the boy his heir. His mother has decided after two years of privately tutoring him that it would be in Mr. Ampora's best interests to attend Hogwarts."

"Ah, Mr. Black, I should have known." Madame Malkin tutted good naturally with a tinge of sorrow in her voice, "He was a ruffian, that one. Still haven't caught him yet, have they?"

"Unfortunately." Severus replied.

"Alright, well, I don't think you're here for a mere chat. Why don't you hop onto one of those stools and I'll get to measuring you, Mr. Ampora."

"Thank you, Madame." Eridan said before doing as he was told.

For some reason his answer made her giggle, and Eridan felt that stupid 'mother's love' emotion come off of her.

"Oh, so polite and adorable! Such a wide eyed angel! He doesn't act much like his father now, does he? What a precious, innocent child, is he going into first year?" Madame Malkin asked Severus.

"No, he is thirteen, and will therefore be placed into third year." the man replied, amusement rolling off of him.

"Thirteen?" Madame Malkin gasped in shock and turned back to Eridan, pinning the fabric to its proper length, "My, you look so young! Keep that innocence while it lasts, child, it's a big world ahead of you!"

"Yes, Madame." Eridan said quietly, even though he wanted to retort the fact that she was probably more innocent than he ever was.

"Oh yes, definitely going to be a heartbreaker when you grow up, child, your father may have been a bad man, but in his younger years he was quite the charming boy!" she squealed, before lowering her voice to a level that if Eridan weren't a troll he wouldn't have heard, "though that is probably the reason why you are even here today."

Eridan stood patiently as she finished up her measurements. Outwardly he was the epitome of an innocent little boy, but his mind was stewing. How dare she speak as if she knew everything about him! He was Eridan Ampora, Orphaner for the Heiress and Genocidal Tactician! He had more blood on his hands than most of the humans in this place, and six sweeps old was most certainly not a childish time! In four more sweeps he will be taken away to join the Empress's Intergalactic Army, fighting and conquering in the name of Her Imperious Condescension! The nerve of this human, if only she knew what he was, then perhaps she would have been so…motherly. After all, didn't he apparently bear a close resemblance to their evil Dark Lord?

Finally the human seamstress finished her measurements, and Eridan was allowed to hop off the stool. He was told that the robes would be ready in two hours, and to come back and pick them up sometime then. The violet blooded seadweller quickly left the shop and its owner, Severus smirking next to him at the unspoken irony.

Next stop was the Apothecary, and neither Eridan nor Severus would admit afterwards how much fun they had gathering supplies not only for Eridan, but for Severus's private stores. The shop owner greeted the professor like an old friend, and they talked animatedly (or as animated as Snape could possible get) about some new stock and ingredients. The small troll listened to their conversation as he strolled around the shop, examining all the ingredients. His eyes almost bugged out of his sockets when he saw a jar labeled 'Troll Eyes' and had to remind himself that trolls were a completely different species on Earth. When he returned to the front desk, Severus had purchased all the supplies needed with the pouch Eridan had given to him (the beasthide one which held the coins Eridan had dumped inside to clean his room on Alternia) and marveled at the glass phials that would eventually hold some interesting concoctions in the future. When they had left the shop, almost an hour had passed.

Next came Flourish and Blotts, which Severus originally wasn't going to enter, but the moment he had told the disguised alien that it was a book shop, he had no other choice. It was roughly half the size of Eridan's book room at home, and even though the troll didn't get any textbooks, books on hexes, jinxes, magical creatures, wizarding culture, obscure magical arts, magical fiction, and history books joined his collection. The cashier had been practically vibrating in joy when he finally rung up all of them, and Eridan had matched the man's excitement when he walked out of the store tailed by an exasperated and amused Severus.

The trunk shop was the final stop before they had to get back to Madame Malkin's, and at first Eridan wanted to protest.

"I'vve got my Sylladex, I don't need a trunk."

"Not having a truck would be rather suspicious, don't you think? Besides, a trunk might be able to free up some space from your Sylladex, since you could simply call out the trunk and get the extra contents out, couldn't you?"

"That's exploitation of the Lawws of Paradox Space!" Eridan almost exclaimed, "Wwhy didn't I think of that?!"

In the end, Eridan decided to humor the teenagers back at Grimmauld Place and bought a custom trunk with twelve compartments, with a circle of the twelve zodiacs placed on the top with matching colors. Each compartment was accessed by tapping its corresponding symbol with his finger. The trunk maker was baffled as to why the symbols had to be a certain way and a certain color, but she wrote it off as the boy being a little eccentric. However, the creepy grin the child had went she had finished made a chill run down her spine, and she wondered if it was a good idea to have catered to the little boy's whims. Knowing Sirius Black, the boy's father, the answer would have been a resounding no.

Madame Malkin's was not empty the second time they entered. A young man around the same age as Harry was, his hair as silver as Luna's. However his expression of 'higher than thou', which reminded him of a certain spidertroll, conveyed that he was like neither comparisons.

"…some extra dress robes. Yes, they have to be done by the end of today. I don't care about cost, I'm Draco Malfoy!"

Eridan calmly walked up to where Madame Malkin was arguing with the pale haired human.

"Excuse me, Madame, I'm here for my robes." he said in a polite voice, causing both humans to turn to him.

"Oh yes, I'll get them right away! Wait here little one." exclaimed Madame Malkin before rushing to the back of the store, leaving the disguised troll with the other human, who sneered down a t him.

"Who do you think you are, interrupting me like that? Do you have any idea who I am you little whelp?"

"That will be enough, Draco." Severus said from behind Eridan, "This is Eridanus Ampora-Black. He is Black's spawn and is heir to House Black. He will be attending Hogwarts as a third year." Draco's eyes widened.

"You can't be serious! Him? Lord Black? I'd like to see a bastard child like him survive in Hogwarts!"

"I can and I wwill, Malfoy." Eridan said suddenly, his face back into his imperious mask, "And talkin bad about me might get you in trouble dowwn the road, trust me."

Violet eyes met icy blue, before their impromptu staring match was broken by Madame Malkin running back with Eridan's robes in her hands.

"Here you are, dear, all ready to go! I shall see you when you need more!"

Eridan took the robes with a quick, polite thank-you to the female human, and turned to Draco.

"Remember my wwords, Malfoy. Don't mess wwith me, you wwill regret it."

His icy tone seemed to do the trick, as fear crossed to teen's eyes before he shivered slightly. Though perhaps he did it a little too well, he thought, because both Madame Malkin and Severus had the same expression as Draco. Silence descended on the four individuals as Severus and Eridan took their leave. Even though the man's face was blank, even bored, Eridan could sense the fear that Severus excreted.

"You are afraid of somethin." the troll whispered in a low voice, and Severus's eyes widened a fraction.

"How did you know?" he whispered back.

"Trolls can sense intent and emotion, that's wwhat our horns are for. Noww spit it out, wwhy are you afraid?"

This time Eridan felt a rising level of apprehension in the man, and Severus muttered some incantations under his breath.

"There is a very evil man in this country that is cruel, cold, and ruthless. He did copious amounts of damage in the Wizarding World, and was so feared that very few even dare to speak his name. Back at Madame Malkin's you reminded us of that same man."

"Oh, you're talkin about Lord Noseless. I knoww I'm like him, that's part of the reason I wwould be an asset in your fight. I am also a genocidal sociopath that murders because I belivved they wwere lowwer than me. This is not news to me."

Severus made an odd choking sound.

"I am going to ignore the slight on the Dark Lord's name and go to the more important question. You knew?"

"But of course. Fightin in this wwar wwill givve me a chance to sate my bloodthirsty nature wwhilst learnin about magic. I, unlike you humans, havve no qualms wwhen it comes to killin thins."

"I see…" Severus sighed out, "It seems I have underestimated you, I will attempt not to do so in the future."

The Potions Master stopped at their final destination for the day, which happened to be the one Eridan had been looking forward to: Ollivander's Wand Shop. Severus cancelled the privacy charms before they entered. When the small troll opened the door, he was greeted to the sight of rows upon rows of wands neatly tucked into boxes, each having its own special layer of fine dust. Tingles ran up and down Eridan's unseen horns, the ambient magic around the place teeming with little voices.

"Well, well, what have we here?"

The whispery voice of Ollivander behind Eridan made Eridan spin around on his heel sharply, eyes wide.

"You are not from here, are you, little alien?"

"Wwha-?" Ollivander chuckled at Eridan's shock.

"Do not fret, little troll, I will keep your secret." said the old wandmaker before turning to Severus.

"Ah yes, and Severus Snape. Ebony, ten and a half inches, a unicorn hair from a rather kindhearted female, an interesting combination. I hope it has served you well?"

Severus only nodded silently. Ollivander turned back to Eridan.

"I assume you are here for a wand, but I believe you already have one bonded to you. After all, no wand on Earth would be able to withstand the sheer amount of power that you trolls possess. It took my great great great Grandfather and quite a few goblins to come up with a wand suited to your ancestor, only to have it transformed into a true weapon. Apparently wands would not have been a suitable look back on Alternia, am I correct?"

"Yes…" Eridan sighed as he remembered his friends' reaction to his wand pile, "But I don't havve a wwand, or else I wwouldn't be here."

"No, I'm quite sure you do have a wand, you simply just don't see it as one. You see, the wand made for your great ancestor was created for a dual purpose. One as a wand, and one as a weapon. It was the most powerful magical focus in existence, almost as legendary as the fabled Elder wand. Your ancestor always kept it with him ever since he received it, and I know that it was passed down to you."

"The most powwerful focus…of course…" Eridan said to himself, his eyes widening. "That wwas wwhy I wwas able to use it to open the Archwway…" he uncapchalogged what he now knew was his wand from the very start, his ticket into the magical world.

Ahab's Crosshairs.

"Yes, yes, that's the one. Still was able to tap into the focus to fire his own magic at his enemies. The Amporas had the most powerful magical core in any living being, a light so great it could purify even the foulest of magicks. It was the Purifier who commissioned for Ahab's Crosshairs, handed down to the Orphaner, and now to you. I must say, from the memories my own ancestor had left, you bear a striking resemblance to the Purifier. Must be the glasses, I suppose."

"So howw do I make this a wwand?" Eridan asked with wide eyes, looking at his rifle in a new light.

"Concentrate, feel your magic, and it will obey."

Eridan nodded more to himself than the wandmaker, and closed his eyes. This most likely had the same abilities as a Switch Weapon, like Kanaya's Chainsaw/Lipstick. If it was then all he needed to do was…

The air shifted slightly as the rifle transformed into its first form. It was almost pure white, like light concentrated into a solid shape. It had the shaft and crystal focus like its rifle form, and the grip was in the shape of a white seahorse, its tail curled tightly like its brother design on the blue rifle. Two small round amethysts were on either side of the grip, becoming the eyes of the seahorse. He waved it above his head, making an arc. Purple mist followed the tip, fading away as it flowed downward.

Ollivander motioned for him to see it, and when Eridan handed the wand over, he turned it over as if it were made of precious glass.

"Amazing," he whispered breathlessly, "Made not with any wood, but the bone of an angel's wing, given willingly and buffered with two amethysts, eleven inches, no more, no less. Core of violet blood, the blood of the Purifier, also given willingly. This truly is a masterpiece. I believe that it has served you for many years as a weapon, and now it will serve you still as a wand. What was Ahab's Crosshairs is now Angel's Wrath, and I am sure that those who cross you will feel it. You are truly meant for greatness, Mr. Ampora, your past and your present say just as much. There is nothing for you to buy here, so I will bid you adieu. And thank you for the opportunity to witness such a brilliant sight."

Angel's Wrath was handed back to its owner, who capchalogged it immediately. Both wandmaker and troll bowed to each other, before the troll and his speechless chaperon left the store in stunned silence.

Chapter Text

With the addition of a genocidal alien that could now preform magic, life became exciting for one Harry James Potter. For one thing, the troll had a knack for getting rid of things that he didn't like. Anything annoying, particularly loud or disturbing got blasted with his rifle-turned-wand (Angel's Wrath was surprisingly powerful, and Harry was ready to dump the responsibility of killing Lord Moldyshorts over to the Dementor killing thirteen year old). This included a large swarm of doxies, a cursed music box, three boggarts and some tacky charmed fish heads that Sirius had in his room.

None of these compared to the wrath that the grey-skinned mermaid extraterrestrial incurred on the portrait of one Walburga Black. Every time Eridan had walked passed, the woman would screech about letting creatures that were beneath the might of House Black in her home. She screamed even harder when the troll presented her with the Black House ring on his finger, as well as the Ravenclaw House ring. From then on, no two people despised the other quite like those two, and Harry eagerly awaited the day that Eridan let all hell loose.

This came three days after the troll had returned from Diagon Alley, already proficient in all subjects in first year.

Walburga Black was cursing him for walking around with a book from the Black library.

"YOU FOUL, DESPICABLE CREATURE! GET OUT OF THIS NOBLE AND PURE HOUSE! I DEMAND YOU AS LADY BLACK TO TAKE YOUR FILTHY PAWS OFF OF THE BLACK FAMILY BOOKS! YOU ARE NOT WORTHY ENOUGH TO EVEN LOOK AT THEM YOU BEAST BLOODED CRETIN!"

Harry had seen Eridan's eye twitch, and bounced on his heels. Please just blast her, he thought, please just turn her into a small pile of ash. Instead, Eridan whirled around and grabbed Harry by the wrist, storming out of the hallway with a blank look on his face. When he walked into the kitchen, everyone present stopped what they were doing and stared at the stormy faced troll.

"Nevv, do you havve those earmuffs used for plantin those screamin baby plants?"

"You mean the Mandrakes? Yeah, I have several." Neville replied, confused, "Why?"

"Do you havve enough for evveryone in this hivve, excludin me."

Harry looked around. There was only him, Eridan, Neville, Ginny, Ron, Luna, Fred, George, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, Remus, and Sirius in Grimmauld Place. Everyone else was out at work, or on some sort of secret Order Mission.

"Yeah… I think I do… why?" Neville answered.

"He wants to out-scream the Banshee Lady." Luna replied serenely.

"He wants to what now?" Sirius asked, perplexed.

"The Lady screams loud, but he can scream louder." Luna answered as if it were the simplest concept in the world.

Everyone turned to stare at Eridan.

"Is she right, Eridan?" Sirius asked the troll.

"More or less." he replied with a small shrug, "I'll be givven her a taste of her owwn medicine wwith my owwn brand of sadism."

"And this is going to be so bad that we have to use Mandrake Earmuffs?" Remus questioned with both of his eyebrows raised.

"I don't wwant you to hear the thins I wwill be sayin." Eridan replied, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

That got Harry intrigued. When Eridan avoided someone's gaze, it usually meant that he was about to do something bad, bad by even his own twisted standards.

"Eridan, no offense, but while your curse words can get colorful, it's nothing we can't handle." Ginny remarked with her arms crossed.

"Yeah," added Fred, "and let me tell you…"

"You can get pretty colorful with your vocabulary." finished George.

"Mate, I have to carry around a dictionary to understand half the words you yell out," Ron pointed out, "And besides, learning curse words is really fun- ow! Mum!"

Eridan still had his head lowered when Ron recovered from the hit upside the head he received from his mother, much to the amusement of everyone else in the room.

"They're curse wwords to a different degree, and they really shouldn't be uttered wwhere mortal ears can hear. The earmuffs are a precaution. A seadwweller has a powwer unlike any landdewwller, and I don't wwant you all hurt as collateral damage."

"Where mortal ears can hear?" Hermione repeated perplexedly, "Eridan, it sounds like you're going to be preforming some sort of Dark Ritual."

"The wwords uttered by the Horrorterrors are far wworse than some Dark Ritual." Eridan replied solemnly, "So you better get those earmuffs Nevv, and don't forget to give one to Kreacher too."

With that and a swish of his cape, Eridan prowled back into the hallway where Walburga was still screeching.

Neville got up from his seat and practically ran to where his trunk laid, taking out the earmuffs and passing them around to everyone. Harry called for Kreacher who, after hearing that it was an order from the fellow non-human, had graciously obliged to putting on the noise cancelling implements.

A few seconds later, and a shrieking voice not unlike the mermaid's song above water during the Second Task rang out, only this time Harry could barely hear it, could barely understand the strange gurgling language Eridan was speaking. He only knew the foreboding sense of doom that was crushing down on his psyche, a feeling that was similar, but not like that of a Dementor's aura. A Dementor was actually preferred to what was happening to his mind at that moment, and Harry glanced around the room to see ashen faces clearly displaying their horror. Their hands were clamped over their muffs, as if making sure they didn't fall of was a matter of life or death. The feeling of fear and foreboding wouldn't leave his mind as Harry felt something out of the corner of his very conscious start whispering. The whispering voices started to get louder and louder, and even though Harry couldn't understand the words, he knew that they spoke of horrible things that have been done, and worse things yet to come.

There was a part of him in the back of his mind that he didn't know, which cowered in fright and the emerald eyed teen could sense it shivering. Something told Harry that the part that was shivering was actually the Parasite, and lashed out at it with his magic. The parasite shuddered, but didn't move from where it was. Harry lashed out again, and something gave way. The parasite gave what Harry could have sworn was a low moan, before trying to shimmy its way further into Harry's mind, away from the whispers. He internally glared at the infernal thing, and imagined a steel cage to trap the parasite in. Lo and behold, a steel box enclosed over the shard of his worst enemy, and Harry felt a sense of triumph. Even though this wasn't expected, he would have to thank Eridan for speaking in that weird 'Horrorterror' language of his.

After a moment, the feeling of fear and doom ceased, and the oppressive air in the room (when had that gotten there?) dissipated. Looking around the room, he saw everyone take off their muffs with relieved looks on their faces.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered lowly, "he wasn't kidding when he said it was going to be bad…"

"I don't even want to know what would have happened if we hadn't put on those earmuffs…" murmured Ginny.

At that point, Eridan had entered the room and surveyed its occupants. When everyone gave him small smiles, the alien troll sighed visibly in relief.

"I'vve finished wwhat I needed to do, she wwon't be botherin us. Evver." stated Eridan with his 'genocide grin' as the teens had taken to calling the creepy Voldemort grin that the troll sported.

"What happened to her?" Sirius asked curiously.

"Wwhy don't you go and see?" replied Eridan with a smirk before leaving to study his textbooks once more.

Slowly, one by one, each occupant of the kitchen gingerly entered the hallway. For once, it was completely silent, with not even the tell-tale snores that signaled that the blasted painting was sleeping. When they got to her portrait, they all had to stifle a gasp.

There was Walburga Black, sitting quietly in her frame, looking at someplace far away with wide eyes. Her face only had one emotion portrayed, absolute horror. Not the horror when you are scared by a ghost, or even the horror of having your close family tortured in front of you. This was the type of horror that was seen on people who had just escaped the brink of horrid nightmares that weren't nightmares, but realms of darkness and void that called to all in the end, whispering, waiting…

"Bloody hell," Sirius whispered at the same time as the Weasley males.

"Mistress?" Kreacher called out tentatively.

Walburga turned her head ever so slowly, as if the movement tired her, and looked down at the House Elf. Harry watched as tears welled in her grey eyes, genuine tears that a child would shed after a particularly horrible nightmare, and the woman began to sob softly.

"What have I done?" Harry thought he heard her whisper.

When Kreature called out to her again, she did not respond, she merely continued to sob softly.

"I wonder what she heard." Ginny thought aloud.

"Me too, but in all honesty do you really want to know?" Harry asked in reply.

Everybody shook their heads in a resolute 'no'.

"I know it's probably not nice to say, but I think I like her better like this." Rom mumbled.

Sirius nodded silently in agreement.

"And we have yet another reason, plus an example, of why getting on that guy's bad side is a horrible idea." Neville muttered.

It was suffice to say that Eridan surpassed the expectations of those who did not know him in regards to his ability to learn. A week had passed since his visit to Diagon Alley, and the small troll had learned everything up to the third year, which is the grade the humans told him he would be attending.

Minerva McGonagall (the shade of green and her slight mothering tendencies reminded him of a certain jadeblood) was now going over the electives that he would be able to choose from, and was for some strange reason exasperated when Eridan had told her that he wanted to attend all of them.

"Miss Granger had done that in her own third year, and she became exhausted halfway through the year!" she argued, rubbing her temples furiously as she repeated her argument for the tenth time.

"Herm is a human. I'm a troll. I can handle this." Eridan retorted with a sniff.

"Some classes are at the same time, Mr. Ampora. You would have to use a Time Turner at least twice a day, and while you have covered the subjects of the previous two years the classes you will attend will have large amounts of homework." McGonagall warned.

"I am used to large amounts of paperwwork. Besides, wwhat kind of a person wwould I be if I refused evven a single subject?"

"A sane one." he heard her grumble under her breath, "Alright, I will let you take all the available electives, but don't say that I didn't warn you, Mr. Ampora."

"Thank you." Eridan replied with a smirk.

When he exited the room, he was greeted by an ensemble of curious teens.

"So," Ron said in a casual tone that wasn't fooling anyone, "What did you choose?"

"All of them." Eridan answered with a shrug.

"I knew it!" Ron exclaimed with a shout, pumping his fist into the air and holding out his arm excitedly to a pouting Nymphadora Tonks, "Pay up!"

To Tonks' credit, she did not whine as she handed over five Galleons to the red-haired teen, who raised the coins above his head as the group of Weasleys began to sing Eridan praises. Eridan, already used to their antics, simply rolled his eyes and began to converse with an excited Hermione.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll do just fine in all the subjects but I do have to warn you that Divination is not as useful as the pamphlet described…"

Eridan learned quite a bit from the girl's rambles, who explained her plights with the amount of work that turned out to be too much for the studious human to handle. Hermione assured her that he could easily finish the workload as he had studied diligently all that week on the two years.

"…we will be completing our OWLs this year, obviously I'm hoping to get all Os but I was wondering if you could help me in motivating the others…"

The troll didn't have the heart to tell Hermione (or any of the humans for that matter) that he had spent most of his waking moments not actually studying his courses, which he used to do early in the mornings, but was researching for the impending War.

"…S.P.E.W. isn't going as well as I hoped, and now that you're here I've been re-evaluating my campaign and I've got a couple of ideas that I want to run past you later…"

More importantly, on the peculiar Parasite that Harry told him resided in a steel box in the green-eyed teen's head. The Purifier, unlike the Orphaner, was incredibly detailed and concise with his explanations, and Eridan was getting used to reading the straightforward leave-no-gory-detail-behind method of writing. He wasn't uncomfortable with the writing because of this aspect, but simply because the only troll he knew with that type of frankness was Eridan himself. As he read the tomes his great ancestor had written, Eridan's image of the Purifier (aided by the descriptions of both Ollivander and Gringrit) became an older version of himself.

It was starting to scare him a little.

"…do you have time later today to go over your notes on Alternian-English translation? I'm trying to get the phonics right and I'm having some trouble on some of the more complex sounds…"

He was close to finding the so-called 'Power of the Angels', including references to 'Hope' in a way that made it seem like a tangible energy and an apparent being called the 'Prince of Hope'. Sometimes it appeared that the Purifier was referring to himself as the Prince, and in other parts it was clear he was speaking of someone else. This was the part that confused him greatly, as the Purifier also spoke of himself as having a past and a future self.

"…I've been hearing rumors about the new Defense Professor and I wonder if she's going to actually be that good of a teacher, so I've been studying on my own what we should be learning for the OWLs so that I can offer tutoring for the others just in case she turns out to be horrible…"

Sometimes it felt like the Purifier was talking about Eridan himself as the separate part.

"…it would be awful if she was another terrible professor… Eridan? Eridan are you listening to me?"

"Yes Herm, I am." Eridan replied, "Don't mind me, I can mentally multitask. I'm sure I wwill be fine wwith my owwn subjects, your human learnin speed is rather sluggish.

I wwill help you in motivvatin the others but you can only lead a hoovvebeast to wwater, you can't make it drink. Likewwise, if they don't wwant to study, you can't force them. The same goes for your campaign, I wwould suggest talkin to the other elvves at Hogwwarts before doin something drastic. For all wwe knoww they might be happy wwith their current situation.

As for the translation, human vvocal chords are not the same as a troll's so I don't expect the sounds to be exact. If wwe can get them to be close enough, then it should still be understandable.

The Defense Professor wwill most likely be a wwaste of space from wwhat I'vve heard, so your caution wwould not be unfounded."

Hermione blinked rapidly.

"I'm…actually impressed. Usually people get lost in my ramblings by now…" she said with a slight frown.

"I havve a Moirail that is fond of shootin questions a mile a minute. It comes from experience. Don't wworry Herm, it's not an ovverall bad thin to share wwith someone wwhat you knoww, you just need to be patient wwith them, just as they wwill learn to be patient wwith you." Eridan replied with a smile.

Hermione smiled brilliantly back.

Harry was currently incredulously sitting down across from Dumbledore, who was still avoiding his gaze, in the kitchen during the final week of the summer holidays. He had just gotten the shock of his life (well, not really, but it was really surprising) when the Hogwarts owls came in with a Gryffindor Prefect Badge for both Hermione and …Ron. At first Harry was surprised, and apparently, so was Ron. Nevertheless, everyone congratulated the red-haired teen on getting the position, even though Harry felt like he was cheated out of something important as he walked down to dinner. Then Dumbledore wanted to have a private chat with him, just the two of them, which made Harry's guard go up.

And now? Well…

"Sorry Professor, but you want me to do what now?"

"Keep an eye on our strange new friend, Harry. I don't trust him very much. While Sirius is a kindhearted soul just like your father, I couldn't help but notice our little alien friend gravitating towards some of the Darker books in the Black Library. The reason you were not picked as a prefect was because this is to be your duty instead."

"You want me to be Eridan's babysitter?"

"I think both of us know that Mr. Ampora has a maturity beyond his age, and I fear it might lead him astray. Guide him in Hogwarts, teach him the ways of our planet, the Light ways."

"I will, Sir."

"I commend you on taking on this task, my boy. Oh well, off you trot! I shall see you at Hogwarts!"

With that, Dumbledore excused the emerald eyed teen from the room. As he walked back to his shared room in a much better mood, he couldn't help but wonder if the leader of the Light knew what he was getting into. In the situation the teen wizard found himself in, he was being treated as the capable adult and Eridan was being treated as the naïve child who just needs help finding the right path through the woods.

Harry wondered if the man knew just how dangerous Eridan was, Dark or Light magic aside. Dumbledore was judging the troll by human means, something that Harry learned rather quickly was a bad idea. If he had to pin Eridan as something, looking simply at his personality and magical ability, then they were currently housing another Dark Lord within the bowels of the Order. Eridan singlehandedly killed twenty Dementors and dozens of cursed objects, permanently traumatized the Black matriarch, had no problem with killing his own race or sentient beings (even if they were children or parents), had a genocidal streak miles wide, and could probably march up to Voldemort and the poor noseless sod would soil his trousers where he stood.

The Boy-Who-Lived understood that Eridan Ampora was an incredibly dangerous thirteen-year-old, and nothing he could do could curb any of the homicidal thoughts that the alien may or may not have. In fact, if Harry was the one in charge of keeping an eye on the insane yet somehow loveable seadwelling troll, then he would simply sit back and watch as the finned sadist went about destroying every obstacle in his path.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend, after all.

Besides, unlike Dumbledore, Eridan was actively and openly trying to help him. No secrets, no bullshit, just cold, hard facts on what he was doing and why. Harry liked this approach, it was refreshing compared to the secret Order meetings that decided his fate without him.

"Hey Harry."

Harry had just opened the door to his shared room to find Eridan sitting on the emerald eyed teen's bed holding the now familiar large tome with a serious expression.

"Oh, hey Eridan. What's going on? Did you find out how to get rid of the Parasite without killing me yet?"

At this, the troll shook his head.

"No, not yet, but I havve come across somethin interestin that I wwant to try." Harry blinked.

"What do you want to try?" In response Eridan flipped to a particular page in the tome, showing the teen what appeared to be a diagram of a soul, a parasite, and a link between them.

"Here it says that a Parasite can sense its Maker better than the Maker sensin the Parasite. I wwonder if someone wwith a Parasite could sense other Parasite if they so choose to. Wwant to test the hypothesis? It might hurt, but I really don't know." Eridan explained in a matter-of-fact tone.

See? Blunt, to the point, no skirting around the subject.

"Uh, yeah… But how?" Harry asked the seadweller, confused.

"I'm goin to havve to need you to focus on the presence in the box. Sense its energy, its makeup, then expand your search to your surroundins. Can you try that?" At this, Harry tilted his head to the side.

"This is like the meditation you wanted me to do, right?" Eridan smiled at the teen with his narrow, sharp teeth.

Surprisingly, the teeth didn't bother him anymore, nor did the fins or the exoskeleton. He simply got used to the dangerous alien who had for some reason chose to help and not harm.

"That is correct."

Harry climbed onto his bed next to Eridan, crossed his legs, and closed his eyes. Concentrating, the young wizard found his mindspace once more, and carefully inspected the creepy Parasite inside the box. It was a dark mass of…stuff… that vaguely reminded Harry of the wraith Voldemort he dealt with in his first year. Then he heard Voldemort's thoughts whispering in his mind.

KILLMAIMDESTORYTORTUREDEATH

Wow, this guy wasn't sane anymore, was he? Not surprising at all, Harry thought darkly as he glared at the writhing Parasite. Well, enough looking at the one he know about, let's see what else he could do. Harry focused on his awareness and coaxed it to spread outside his own mind, trying to find something similar. A few seconds later, he felt the presence of another Parasite.

And it was in the house, right now.

Eridan followed the sprinting Harry Potter with an almost feral look in his eyes. Apparently there was a Parasite residing in the hivehold, and it wasn't the running teen in front of him. Harry led the small troll down the stairs, past some confused Order members in the living room, to an area that Eridan had only visited a couple of times.

Kreacher's Room.

He knocked on the door stiffly, and the old house elf opened it slowly.

"What can Kreacher do for…oh Master Eridan! How can Kreacher help you and…Master Potter?" Kreacher sneered out Harry's name.

"Wwe are here because there is a Parasite of a maniacal Dark Lord inside your room. Do you, perchance, knoww wwhere it is?" Eridan asked the elf with his violet eyes glowing menacingly.

The elf's large eyes widened even more.

"Could it be…could it be that Master Eridan be talking about Master Regulus's locket?"

"Who's Master Regulus?" Harry asked, perplexed.

Kreacher looked as if he were about to die of horror.

"That Blood-Traitor Sirius never told Masters Potter and Eridan who Master Regulus was? But Master Regulus was…how DARE Master Sirius…!"

So Sirius knew who this Regulus person was? Were they related? Bad history? Did the man die?

"Kreacher, just tell us wwho he is and be done wwith it." Eridan said, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.

Kreacher breathed in deeply, as if trying to hold back tears.

"Master Regulus was Master Sirius's younger brother..."

"Yeah, he joined the Death Eaters and died when he was only eighteen. That's what happens when you decide to listen to mummy dearest." growled a voice behind them.

"Sirius? What are you doing here?" Harry asked in shock at the fact that the man seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.

"I heard you two were talking to Kreacher about Regulus and couldn't help but throw in my own two Knuts on the subject." Sirius replies with a careless shrug, but Eridan's horns did not detect any carelessness coming off the man.

Instead, there were large amounts anger, sorrow, and guilt.

"He lovingly talked about our evil maniacal snake like he was a god. And then one day he was just offed. Figures, the coward had it coming for all his choices." Sirius grumbled out.

"MASTER REGULUS WAS BRAVER THAN BLOOD TRAITOR SIRIUS COULD EVER BE!" Kreacher screeched out almost hysterically, "MASTER SIRIUS HAS NO IDEA WHAT MASTER REGULUS HAD DONE IN HIS FINAL MOMENTS!"

Sirius, usually quick to retort, was cowed into silence.

"What did he do?" was what he whispered after a few seconds of silence.

Kreacher huffed, folded his arms, and looked away.

"Kreacher," Eridan started, "If this has anythin to do wwith the locket, wwhich I assume has a Parasite in it, then you are goin to need to tell us this. Wwhat is this locket and wwhat does it have to do wwith Regulus?"

The elf was quiet for a moment, drained from when he shouted at Sirius, before he curled up into a ball on the floor and started rocking back and forth. Soon, tears started to run down Kreacher's face.

"Master Sirius ran away, good riddance, for he was a bad boy and broke my Mistress's heart with his lawless ways." both elf and human glared at each other for a moment before Kreacher continued, "But Master Regulus had proper order. He knew what was due to the name of Black and the dignity of his pure blood. For years he talked of the Dark Lord, who was going to bring the wizards out of hiding to rule the Muggles and the Muggleborns… and when he was sixteen years old, Master Regulus joined the Dark Lord. So proud, so proud, so happy to serve… And one day, a year after he joined, Master Regulus came down to the kitchen to see Kreacher. Master Regulus always liked Kreacher. And Master Regulus said… he said… "

Kreacher started to rock harder.

"… he said that the Dark Lord required an elf."

"Lord Evil Git of all people was reduced to using an elf?" Sirius asked with a sneer, but Kreacher paid the man no heed.

Eridan, however, raised an eyebrow at the man.

"Oh yes, and Master Regulus had volunteered Kreacher. It was an honor, said Master Regulus, an honor for him and for Kreacher, who must be sure to do whatever the Dark Lord ordered him to do… and then to c-come home."

At this point, the poor elf broke into sobs.

"So Kreacher went to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord did not tell Kreacher what they were to do, but took Kreacher with him to a cave beside the sea. And beyond the cave was a cavern, and in the cavern was a great black lake…"

"A black lake in a cave near the sea. Isn't that foreboding?" Sirius grumbled from beneath his breath, but Eridan could tell that the older human was becoming afraid.

"…There was a boat…" the elf's eyes looked haunted, ""There was a b-basin full of potion on the island. The D-Dark Lord made Kreacher drink it… "

The elf quaked from head to foot.

"Kreacher drank, and as he drank he saw terrible thing … Kreacher's insides burned … Kreacher cried for Master Regulus to save him, he cried for his Mistress Black, but the Dark Lord only laughed… He made Kreacher drink all the potion… He dropped a locket into the empty basin… He filled it with more potion."

That sounded rather…painful. Eridan looked at his two companions, both were paler than usual and waves of guilt and pity flowed from them.

"And then the Dark Lord sailed away, leaving Kreacher on the island… "Kreacher needed water, he crawled to the island's edge and he drank from the black lake . . . and hands, dead hands, came out of the water and dragged Kreacher under the surface…"

"Howw did you escape?" Eridan asked, intrigued with his hands steepled under his chin.

"Master Regulus told Kreacher to come back. Kreacher was told to come home, so Kreacher came home…" the elf said simply.

"And wwhat happened after?" Eridan asked silkily, coaxing the elf to continue.

"Master Regulus was very worried, very worried," croaked Kreacher, "Master Regulus told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. And then… it was a little while later… Master Regulus came to find Kreacher in his cupboard one night, and Master Regulus was strange, not as he usually was, disturbed in his mind, Kreacher could tell… and he asked Kreacher to take him to the cave, the cave where Kreacher had gone with the Dark Lord…"

"No…" Sirius whispered breathlessly.

"M-Master Regulus took from his pocket a locket like the one the Dark Lord had," mumbled Kreacher, tears pouring down either side of his snoutlike nose, "And he told Kreacher to take it and, when the basin was empty, to switch the lockets…"

"No…" Sirius whispered again, a little louder this time.

Kreacher wasn't doing much better, the house elf was sobbing as he spoke his next words.

"And he ordered…Kreacher to leave…without him. And he told Kreacher…to go home…and never to tell my Mistress…what he had done…but to destroy… the first locket. And he drank…all the potion…and Kreacher swapped the lockets…and watched… as Master Regulus…was dragged beneath the water…and…"

"NO!" Sirius practically roared out, "My brother…oh…Reggie…" he slumped to the floor in a heap, "I've failed you…"

Eridan almost backpedaled at the sudden surge of emotions. Harry immediately went to go and embrace his Godfather, and Eridan awkwardly wrapped his arms around both the sobbing elf and the wailing human. After a few minutes passed, the crying stopped, and Eridan resumed his interrogation.

"So you receivved the locket from Regulus and attempted to destroy it, I presume." Kreacher nodded.

"Nothing Kreacher did made any mark upon it," moaned the elf, "Kreacher tried everything, everything he knew, but nothing, nothing would work… So many powerful spells upon the casing, Kreacher was sure the way to destroy it was to get inside it, but it would not open… Kreacher punished himself, he tried again, he punished himself, he tried again. Kreacher failed to obey orders, Kreacher could not destroy the locket! And his Mistress was mad with grief, because Master Regulus had disappeared and Kreacher could not tell her what had happened, no, because Master Regulus had f-f-forbidden him to tell any of the f-f-family what happened in the c-cave…"

"So noww you havve it stored in your room until you find a wway to destroy it, am I correct?" Once more, the elf nodded weakly.

"B-But Kreacher still has not found a way to destroy it… Kreacher tried!" he was about to break into sobs again when Eridan put a hand on the elf's shoulders.

"But you see, Kreacher, that is wwhy I am here right noww. To destroy it."

"Master Eridan knows how to destroy the locket?" Kreacher asked with a glint of hope in his eyes.

"Yes, noww if wwe could hurry up, I wwould like to terminate it before they call us for dinner."

Eridan was sure he had never seen the elf run that fast in the duration of his stay. While waiting patiently (or as patient as he could be at that moment) outside the door for Kreacher, the troll turned to Sirius. The human was a mess, silent tears streaming from his eyes. Eridan uncapchalogged a box of tissues and handed it to the first human he had ever come into contact with. Sirius took the box with a grateful nod of his head.

"Think of this as your apology, and a partial avvengin." Eridan said calmly just as Kreacher came out from his room holding out a small locket.

That was definitely a Parasite. Eridan could see the same foul energy ooze from the small object, whispering its words of malice. The troll sneered at the locket and pulled out Angel's Wrath.

"Put it on the ground and stand back." Kreacher did as Eridan ordered, stepping as far away from the locket as he could with wide eyes that were brimming with hope.

Eridan pointed his wand at the locket and concentrated, feeling the familiar energy gather at the wand's tip. This need not any wand movement or incantation. It was just like firing his rifle. His pupils became slits and he smiled maniacally. Behind him, he felt his friends (both human and elf) tremble in fear (what were they afraid of? The locket will be destroyed soon).

"Die."

As soon as he spoke those words, the energy gathered at the tip blasted into the locket, just like the white beam of Ahab's Crosshairs. The locket opened, and a black, oozing mass started to float out. Started. As soon as it left the confines of the locket, it was incinerated in the beam of pure energy unlike any magic seen on the Earth. The mass gave out a primal howl, writhing as it was reduced to nothing, its corrupted red eyes purified by the beam of white. When Eridan stopped the beam of energy, it was if there never was a locket in the first place, with only the charred floor as a reminder of what had been done. Eridan lowered his wand and placed back in the holster in his sleeve (Alastor Moody had gifted it to him a week before, with a reminder to be on CONSTANT VIGILANCE).

"The locket's gone…Kreacher has carried out Master Regulus's final order to Kreacher…" the house elf whispered, staring at the smoking floor before breaking into tears of joy and relief.

This time, Sirius joined his elf, and both previously hated enemies hugged each other as they rejoiced in this one small act of vengeance for the life of Regulus Black.

They were all gathered together in their room. Eridan's recupracoon had been moved in with the other boys, and all of them were chattering animatedly.

"This is it, tomorrow's the big day." Ron said with a grin.

"We're going back to Hogwarts." Harry breathed out, joy evident in his voice.

"Or going for the first time." Neville pointed out before turning and smiling at Eridan, "Excited?"

"You havve no idea." Eridan replied, hanging from inside his recupracoon, the soothing sopor already making his eyes droop.

This made the boys laugh a little, before Harry's mood became serious.

"Oh yeah, I'll tell you guys tonight and then fill the girls in tomorrow. We found another Parasite before dinner."

A round of muttering passed through the room.

"Another Parasite? Here?" Ron asked with wide eyes, "What happened to it?"

"I killed it." Eridan replied bluntly.

A few snickers of 'of course Eridan would kill it' resounded in the quiet room.

"And that's not all." Harry stated, earning the attention of everyone in the room, "But it was stolen from Lord Noseless by Regulus Black, Sirius's younger brother. He died to make sure that the thing could be destroyed. So, we've decided that in honor of him, we are going to form an official group to kill these Parasites to rid the world of that git forever, and call it Regulus's Legacy. All in favor?"

It took a little while for Harry's short speech to sink in, but when it did, all the room's inhabitants slowly raised their hands.

And on that last night of August, the new members of Regulus's Legacy all descended into a determined slumber.

Chapter Text

Alternia Interlude - Feferi Peixes

It had been a while since Eridan had gone with Sirius to the alien's home planet, Feferi mused as she 'culled' a few more cuttlefish back into their pretty little cages. She couldn't help but feel a little jealous a the fact that he had gone on an adventure to a planet far away, but then again, she was to be Empress one day and when the time came she could travel as far as she wanted to.

Earth just sounded so much fun. Eridan and Feferi had spoken sparsely since he left through Trollian, and the things he would tell her about the alien planet awed and intrigued her so much. And the pictures he would take without the humans knowing... it all looked so surreal. A mish mash of colors that didn't signify blood or status, only color for color's sake. A mosaic of different shades that held no blood meaning, just color and colors combined. And the aliens...the humans... they all looked so different and strange and wonderful. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to be in the middle of that, experiencing it for herself...

The sunlight glittered from above, harmless to her as her abode was so deep underwater the harsh rays only made the water comfortably warm. She heard from Eridan the sun on Earth was nearly as hot or as old as Alternia's and Feferi wondered what it would be like to bask in the sunlight at midday. Absentmindedly she took a cuttlefish in her arms and stroked it's soft, slimy surface. All this thinking about where Eridan had gone eased her fears about him being okay, but amplified her desire to be there, with him, experiencing it for herself. Perhaps when things settle there and he's more familiar with Earth customs, she could go there to, to see the alien plant for herself.

The Heiress swum outside of her castle hive, and made her way towards an island that only held a broken warship. She knew Eridan wasn't there, but for some reason it made her feel closer to where she knew the entrance to the strange planet was, where he was currently exploring. Webbed paw-feet kicked the water, propelling her to Eridan's empty hive.

She missed her Moirail dearly, even with his sometimes sullen attitude. Only recently has she seen the excited troll that he was when they first met as wrigglers, like her old friend had returned to her. And now he was off, exploring a new world, and she couldn't help but want him back, to talk to her in person about all the wonderful things he had seen.

Feferi wondered if Eridan was having any problems adapting to the customs, and moreso was she worried about how he was going to get by without killing anyone for the majority of Earth's half-sweep. She knew her moirail well enough to know his...unique problems. One of those problems just happens to be some sort of insatiable bloodlust. The violet blood got twitchy if he didn't kill anything for a while, which is when she usually allowed him to go Lusus hunting. But the human Sirius had made it clear that killing was a big no-no on Earth, so she was wondering how her genocidal Moirail was going to cope.

Magenta lightening struck the ship, parts of teal wood splintering off and falling into the sea. Slowly the biological mass that was the ship's repair system coated where the lightening had struck with teal slime. The slime had an active chemical that would allow the wood to grow back, sealing the damage that had been made by the constant storms in this area. Everything seemed to be as if he were still inside of the hive, probably reading a book by the fireplace.

The waves moved her buoyant body up and down the surface of the water as she stared up at the imposing and knowingly empty warshiphive, letting the movements lull her into a sense of calm. Eridan would be alright. He knew what he was doing. Even if he didn't, there was still Sirius. And if there wasn't Sirius, then there were the other human friends her Moirail had made (no matter how strange that concept might be, as she was still wrapping her head around the fact that Eridan had left Sirius alive).

She just hoped it would be enough.

Eridan Ampora woke up early on the morning of September the first, climbing out of his recupracoon while everyone else was still sleeping in their beds. He checked the window. The sun hadn't even appeared over the horizon yet. Absentmindedly he noted again how mild the sun was here, even the humans could walk under it without dying in most cases. But habit was habit, and Eridan couldn't help but flinch as the first rays started to poke out through the buildings. While his fingers twitched to shut the curtains, he knew better than to give any cause for the other boys in the room to sleep in. Instead he washed up and got dressed for the long day ahead, carefully making sure not to wake the rest of the crew - or should he say the rest of Regulus's Legacy. A mad grin formed on his face as he recalled the night before. Yes, plans were going perfect, and soon they will down the enemy without the adults even noticing. He pattered down the stairs, soft footpads making nary a sound, assuming he would be the only one up at this hour as he made his way down to the kitchen. This was not so.

"Hey kiddo." whispered Sirius from his place at the table, munching on his toast, "Excited for Hogwarts?"

Eridan smiled. It was rare to find the Grimm animagus up this early, and the small troll was used to the lack of company in the early mornings.

"Wwhat, you think I came to this strange planet just to make friends?" Eridan jokingly quipped with a smirk, rummaging through the pantry for something to eat.

"Well, I thought you did pretty good for an alien such as yourself." Sirius replied with mock stuffiness, holding his head up high and glancing down at the small troll.

"That's because I'm awwesome and amazin." Eridan replied with a sniff, flashing the wizard a sharp toothed grin as he walked over to Sirius with a bowl of grub-meal in his claws.

"...But is see you still haven't gotten used to Earth food, have you?" Sirius added as he wearily eyed the concoction the seadweller was spooning into his mouth.

"It's not swweet enough. Honestly howw can you humans evven handle somethin so bland?" Eridan mumbled out, licking some of the bright blue mash from in between his teeth.

"Heh, guess I forget the little differences." Sirius said, shrugging his shoulders, "Which means you gotta watch yourself for those, too. Unlike here, where everyone knows you're an alien and has gotten used to it, Hogwarts won't accept anyone that's other than human, especially with the new Ministry official there. You actually have to pretend to be human. Humans are different from trolls in so many ways you basically have you watch everything from sayings to morality to that romance Quadrant thing you guys have going on."

At this Eridan sighed and replied with, "I'm vvery wwell awware."

Seeing the slightly dejected face of his first alien contact, Sirius patted the troll on the head, making sure to stay away from his lighting bolt shaped horns.

"Hey cheer up kiddo, it'll be interesting seeing Hogwarts from your point of view!"

"I guess so..." Eridan muttered out, before Sirius's words reminded him of a subject that he had wanted to breach before, "Oh yeah, before I go to Hogwwarts, I wwanted to ask you about your relationship issue."

Sirius blinked a couple of times in confusion.

"Relationship issue? I'm not sure what you're talking about. It's not like I'm in a relationship or anything." the dog animagus told the troll.

"On the contrary, you are in a facilitatin relationship. You and Remus are most definitely Moirails, but because of your deep caliginous feelins for Sevverus, he's had to become the Auspistice." the seadweller answered in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Me and Remus are Moirails? I guess that fits...wait...feelings?! For Snivillus?" Sirius sputtered out.

"See? You already havve pet names for each other. You twwo dance around the Kismessitude Quadrant but nevver go any further. Instead, Remus has to be there to break you up." Eridan quipped out, "I mean, you're both rivvals wwith unmatched hatred for each other, and it's obvvious that you havve some sort of suppressed sexual attraction towwards-"

"THERE IS NO SUPPRESSED SEXUAL ATTRACTION BETWEEN ME AND SEVERUS FUCKING SNAPE!" Sirius practically roared out in defense.

It was like an alarm. Soon noises were heard as the rest of 12 Grimmauld Place awoke to Sirius's proclamation, and footsteps thundered down the stairs. As Fate's design would have it, the first person to walk into the kitchen was a rather constipated looking Severus Snape, who after passing through the entrance walked up to the table where the two original occupants were sitting and fixed Sirius with an odd look.

"I wasn't surprised to be...woken up by your loud, crude mouth this morning Black...but I was rather...taken aback by such a...bold... statement." Severus said, his voice barely above a whisper, with the same odd look on his face.

"Wwell it's true." Eridan muttered, rolling his violet eyes, "You twwo are perfect in the black quadrant, can you please get a room already? It's sickenin to see twwo lovvers wwho refuse to confess their feelins to each other. Geez, howw can Kar stand these moments in those rom-coms of his?"

"WE DO NOT HAVE FEELINGS FOR EACH OTHER!" Sirius and Severus bellowed out at the same time, before their eyes both simultaneously widened (Black) and narrowed (Snape) as their heads turned to face each other.

"STOP COPYING ME" they yelled at the same time.

"I'M NOT DOING ANYTHING, YOU'RE THE ONE BEING A PRAT!"

"I HATE YOU MORE THAN I HATE MYSELF!"

Sirius couldn't seem to take it anymore as he grabbed Severus by the collar and slamming the Potions Master against the kitchen wall. Severus retaliated by pushing his old school rival off of him and fishing out his wand. Soon hexes and curses were flying left and right as the two adults circled each other, shouting insults to their opposition. Greasy black hair turned bright scarlet and gold, and Sirius's forehead now sported the word 'DUNDERHEAD' in bright green letters. As the fight continued, Harry slipped into the seat next to Eridan, still in his pajamas and his hair sticking up more than usual.

"I heard what was going on from upstairs. So what's the verdict?" the green-eyed teen whispered to his alien friend.

"My bet, they kiss at the end of the fight. That's howw it alwways wworks." Eridan told the young wizard with a smirk.

"Oh yeah? I bet they stay platonic rivals at the end of this, just loathing each other's existence." Harry returned with a grin.

"Wwhat are the stakes?" the violet blooded seadweller asked in curiosity, a single eyebrow poised high.

"If I win, you get me and my friends something like that husk-computer that you always carry around." Harry answered with a wide smile, he had wanted to get his hands on one of them for a while, but the troll had refused him on the grounds of 'the technology might be too advanced for humans'.

"Husktops? Vvery wwell. Howwevver if I wwin, you wwill alloww me to get awway wwith vviolence for the entirety of the Hogwwarts year." Eridan retorted, his long, sharp teeth bared, showing his excitement.

After a few seconds of watching the impromptu duel, the rest of Regulus's Legacy filtered in, mindful of the spells that were being cast left and right by the two enraged men. They were quickly filled in on the missing information, including the formation of Regulus's Legacy to Luna, Hermione and Ginny. After the girls had agreed to join the Parasite-Hunting group, the members of the Legacy watched the duel with great curiosity. After all, those two obviously hated each other, but not in the way Eridan was thinking of. This was Earth, not Alternia, Kismessitudes didn't happen here.

...Right?

Fortunately for the human teenagers, Remus had sprinted down the stairs and broke Sirius and Severus up from their fight. There was no hate-filled kissing like the ones at the end of every rom-com Eridan had ever watched with Karkat, so the seadweller was left with a slight sense of disillusionment. His Alternian romance films had failed him once again. On the other hand, the three adults were confused on why the others kids were cheering.

Eridan shook hands with a widely grinning Harry, promising the teen that the Legacy would get their husktops by the next week.

The hour before the group of wizards and witches left for King's Cross Station was an absolute mess. Items were packed, then someone would remember something they had forgotten, and their trunks had to be repacked. Things were shifted around, and items went missing. Somehow the Twins tried to levitate their trunks down the stairs and the heavy loads knocked into Ginny, causing her to fall down a flight of stairs. During all of this madness Eridan, who was as meticulous with his packing as he was with his research, was ordering some husktops for the Legacy, as promised. He hoped that his designs (all husktops required the troll's identification symbol, so Eridan was forced to make something up for each of them) were well received. As he submitted the form for the final husktop, his Trollian pinged. The violet aristocrat raised an eyebrow in slight surprise. Who on Alternia would be contacting him now? Kar? Fef?

Well that was new. And kind of creepy. How did she know where he was going? How did Aradia Megido of all people know that he was going to Hogwarts? She didn't even talk to him that much before, other than the occasional archeological banter. Then again, there were worse people that could have come across his whereabouts. Had it been Serket...he shuddered at the thought. No, better Megido who he never really conversed with that much learn of Hogwarts. She was a kind soul, he had no qualms with the rust blooded adventurer.

As the racket outside his room grew steadily in volume, Eridan shut his husktop, capchalogging it before going to investigate what kind of insanity the humans had run into now. He will figure out the mystery Megido had given him later.

Wizards, Eridan thought to himself, had to be the most illogical beings he had ever come across (though to be fair, most of the creatures he came across were usually dead a few seconds later). Magic could be used in so many brilliant ways, mostly to hide their society from the 'muggle' populace. The trick with 12 Grimmauld Place was incredible, and rather ingenious.

The entrance to Platform Nine and Three Quarters was just plain stupid.

Yes, yes the best way to be discreet in front of masses of bustling people is to run head-first at full speed into a fucking wall.

After sending an incredulous look to Harry, who merely shrugged in reply, Eridan (who had downed the potion before he left the house) rolled his eyes and ran through the entrance of Platform Nine and Three Quarters. His now-invisible horns felt the tingle of magic pass through him as he marveled the brief flicker of silver energy that allowed him entrance into the hidden area, years of practice allowing his eyes to stay stubbornly open even as he ran face-first into a brick wall. Once more was he assaulted with noise and movement, the wizards and witches being even louder than their non-magical counterparts on the other side of the wall.

A scarlet steam train (holy shit it looked so archaic he might as well call himself Orphaner Dualscar) sat at the tracks, with the gold letters spelling out the title 'The Hogwarts Express'. All these different shades of proud red...Eridan wondered if Karkat would be happy to know that his blood color was a social norm here (then again, all humans bled his shade anyway, didn't they?).

"Oh, well what do we have here? It's Black's bastard child!" a voice rang out from the station.

Eridan turned on his heel to look at the Malfoy heir, who was sneering down at him with two large bodyguards on either side of him as an intimidation factor. Ha, like that was going to work on him, which of the two of them had more blood on their hands? Whilst homicidal thoughts began to swirl in his head, the small troll smiled mock-innocently at the platinum-blond ponce.

"Wwell, wwell, wwell, if it isn't Malfoy. I thought I told you back at Madame Malkin's not to mess wwith me." Eridan told him with a cold smile.

This time however, Draco Malfoy did not back down. Instead, he let out a short guffaw, and his cronies followed after.

"I'd like to see an undersized bastard child with a speech impediment try that. I bet he can't even say any of the spells right!" Malfoy said more to the people around him than to Eridan himself.

At this slight, Eridan growled lowly, which only made Malfoy guffaw louder. After all, a cute thirteen year old growling wasn't very frightening. He didn't have his horns, or his teeth, or his claws. All of his intimidating features had been hidden with the potion.

"Oh look, the puppy is growling at me! Bad puppy. Sit! Roll over!" the blond wizard mock cooed at him whilst laughing loudly, holding his sides at his own joke.

His two bodyguards (who looked like they were severely lacking in the think pan department) also started to guffaw along, making Eridan's lower eyelid twitch in annoyance. Never, in all his sweeps of life, had he ever been treated with such disrespect. How dare this human treat him like some weak little wriggler! Homicidal thoughts took the forefront of his minds, clouding his thoughts with his natural instinct to destroy, and his violet eye glinted dangerously as a feral sneer marred his face. Looks like he better teach Malfoy some manners, if he survived the first lesson. His fingers were now caressing the handle of Angel's Wrath, but just as he was about to blast the pureblooded teen to smithereens, Eridan's arm was grabbed and the troll was dragged off in the other direction.

"Eridan, we discussed this. You can't just kill people you hate. Not here." came the low voice of his assailant, who was none other than Harry James Potter.

"Did you hear wwhat he wwas sayin? Puttin him dowwn wwould havve been a public favvor." the small disguised seadwelling troll huffed out.

"As much as I agree with you on that, I have to remind you that humans have a no-kill rule. There are laws against murder here, and I doubt you'd want to end up in Azkaban." Harry told Eridan in a serious voice, shaking his head slightly, "Come on, let's go find a compartment."

The older teen led the small troll into the train, and after a few minutes of searching found an empty compartment near the back. After placing the trucks in the small crevices underneath the seats, Harry guided Eridan into a train seat, where the homicidal seadweller proceeded to sulk. After a few minutes had passed, the compartment door opened to reveal Neville, Luna, and Ginny, followed quickly by the Twins.

Without missing a heartbeat, Fred cast an expansion charm on the compartment so that the relatively large group could fit inside without much hassle, and the members of the Legacy settled down in their now much roomier seats. Before anyone could ask about the sullen troll child sulking in the corner, the compartment opened once again to reveal Ron and Hermione, both wearing their shiny new prefect badges.

"Sorry guys," Ron started with a guilty voice, "we've got to sit at the prefects compartment before doing our rounds...why is Eridan slumped in the corner like that?" he finished quizzically.

"I stopped him from blasting Malfoy." Harry replied, trying to hide his grin.

"Mate, why didn't you let him? Would have been doing us all a favor!" Ron asked with an incredulous look on his face, only to be promptly hit upside the head by Hermione.

"Ron! Think about the consequences! If Malfoy was killed or even hurt in front of so many people they would be calling for Eridan's blood!"

Ron at least had the sense to look sheepish while the disguised troll sulking in the corner muttered about stupid planetary morals barring him from committing much-needed culling duties. This earned a nervous chuckle out of those who heard him, knowing full well that unlike the rest of the Legacy, who had always made jokes about the Malfoy heir's demise, the small seadweller was being completely serious in his outspoken homicidal thoughts.

Soon afterwards Ron and Hermione left to join the other prefects, and the rest of the legacy sans Eridan fell into various conversation, leaving the small troll to stew in his thoughts for a little while longer.

But he didn't stew for long, as shouting from the platform dragged his attention away from his less than benevolent ideas on what he could do to Malfoy. It was a wailing woman, crying and hugging what Eridan assumed to be her child as the tiny human prepared to board the train. The child in question had flushed pink with embarrassment, and made a show of trying to pull away. A taller human, who Eridan deducted to be the father of the child by the similarities between the two of them, gave the child a pat on the head and a tight hug, before saying something to the child that the small troll could not make out.

The strange emotions they, and countless other of these 'families' gave off were similar to that of the Order, and yet the seadweller still felt uncomfortable every time he came into contact with him. It made him feel warm and fuzzy inside and for a fish that usually meant death, more death, and maybe some sort of mould growing on top. How humans submerged themselves with such an emotion was almost beyond the violet blooded alien's comprehension.

The human child clinged onto the custodian for a good minute before leaving to board the train. Eridan couldn't be sure but he swore that all three of them were shedding tears. How pathetic. Humans are so incredibly clingy. Why cry over someone who's coming back? It's not like they're dead or anything. And human children only leave for less than half a sweep! Though to be fair, a Lusus does tend to cry if their charge isn't back at the hive after a few days pass...

There really was so much about humans that the alien couldn't understand, and needed to pick up fast.

Eridan eventually seemed to get over his, for a lack of a better term, homicidal bitchfest and joined the other members of the compartment in conversation. For this, Harry was grateful, as it meant not having to snap a genocidal alien out of a murderous haze. So the group chatted about what they would expect from the year ahead, and how they were going to track down the rest of Lord Snakeface's Parasites. Harry had no idea where the others might be, as his main focus was getting the Parasite inside his scar first without killing himself in the process.

Fred and George decided, when conversation had grown stagnant, to show off their skills at speaking Alternian, just so they could plan pranks behind the Professors' backs. They attempted to speak in the strange language of which Harry could only understand a few words in, watching as Eridan's childish face screwed up into a grimace.

"You havve the grammar right, but your pronunciation is atrocious. If I didn't knoww you twwo better then I wwould havve thought you twwo had said..." he whispered into George's ear, making the ginger twin rear back in horror.

"We did not... we did NOT mean to say that!" Fred sputtered out after George muttered into his ear just what Eridan had told they said.

"Pronunciation is vvery important for some wwords...especially those ones." Eridan told them with a growing smirk.

Before the Weasley twins could retaliate against the troll, the Trolley Lady knocked on their compartment door with her cart full of sweets, and soon all fighting ceased in leu of enjoying some magical sweets. Harry had dared Eridan to try out one of every type of sweet, making sure Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans were the last. The troll almost immediately dismissed the licorice wands on the grounds of not being sweet enough, horrified everyone in Regulus's Legacy (sans Ron and Hermione, who were not in the compartment) with his interest in the Blood Pops, and widened his eyes as the Acid Pop seemed to fry a hole through his now fat, pink tongue.

"Don't worry, there's magic embedded in it to heal your tongue after you finish it." Fred chuckled out, giving his twin a knowing jab in the ribs.

"At the risk of burnin the rest of my tongue off?!" Eridan practically screeched (not that he'd ever admit that later, the troll's pride was at stake).

"Well, yeah, that's the fun of it!" the twins answered in unison.

The chocolate frogs soon made their own debut, with the older teens laughing as they assaulted the poor disguised seadweller with multiple magically hopping chocolates at once. Once the commotion had died down, Ginny and Luna took it upon themselves to sort the chocolate frog cards and show Eridan who each of the people in the cards were. While the small troll was distracted by the impromptu lesson, Ginny passed him a small violet colored bean, making Harry chuckle at her cunning idea. Without really thinking about it much, as Alternia also had jelly beans, Eridan popped the bean into his mouth. Immediately his face became thoughtful.

"Huh, I didn't knoww humans had pastel flavvored beans..."

A groan escaped from Neville and Ginny.

"Really, he gets a safe one on his first go? That's just not fair!" the round faced boy grumbled before choosing what he hoped was a safe red bean, "Aack! Hot Pepper!"

Harry couldn't help but laugh, patting Neville on the back as the teen tried to cool his mouth down with a pumpkin pasty.

"That's just your bad luck mate!" the Emerald eyed Gryffindor told him with a grin, "And next time you try one, never pick the innocent looking ones. Those are always the worst. Go for the weird ones."

"Speaking from experience?" Neville asked Harry while dubiously staring at the cream colored bean speckled with brown dots that the raven haired boy had handed him.

"Yeah. It works though. Go on, try it."

With one final suspicious glance at the Boy Who Lived, the Longbottom heir ate the strange looking bean. His eyebrows raised upwards in surprise.

"Toasted marshmallow." the teen said in mock wonderment.

At this, Harry grinned widely.

"See? That's all there is to it." he chuckled out before eating his own beans.

An hour later had both Ron and Hermione opening the door to the compartment, already in their uniforms with their prefect badges pinned to their cloaks.

"We're almost at Hogwarts, so you should change into uniforms now."

At this, the group split off with Ginny and Luna headed towards the bathrooms to change and the remaining boys to change in the compartment.

"Almost home..." Harry murmured to himself.

Harry was absolutely positive those things pulling the carriages weren't there the previous year's he had attended Hogwarts. There were creatures standing in front of each carriage, and if he had had to give them a name Harry supposed he would have called them horses, though there was something reptilian about them too. They were completely fleshless, their black coats clinging to their skeletons, of which every bone was visible. Their heads were dragonish, and their pupil-less eyes white and staring. Wings sprouted from each wither, vast, black leathery wings that looked as though they ought to belong to giant bats. Harry could not understand why the coaches were now being pulled by these creatures when they were quite capable of moving along by themselves.

"When did they get the new...horses?" Harry asked Hermione, who was walking toward the nearest carriage.

"Those are hoovvebeasts?" Harry heard Eridan whisper, watching the troll eye the creatures with great interest.

Hermione looked over their ride and back at Harry with a perplexed expression.

"What horses? The carriages drive themselves." the bushy haired girl replied.

"No they don't," Luna said matter-of-factly, "the carriages are pulled by Thestrals. You can only see them if you've seen death." at this she pointedly glanced at Eridan, who was prowling up to one of them, "People tend to think they're a bad omen because of that, but they're really very kind. I visit them a lot." To prove her point, she started petting one of them, and the Thestral nuzzled further into her hand.

After that the group (minus the twins, who had joined Lee, Angelina, and Katie in another carriage) piled into the carriage and the Thestrals started their journey towards the castle.

"Hey guys," Neville whispered to the group, "I just realized Hagrid's not here."

Harry spun around to look at where the first years were congregated. Indeed, instead of Hagrid, Professor Grubbly-Plank was leading the soon-to-be students towards the rickety boats. Something Dumbledore told the Order (while he and the others eavesdropped) floated back towards the forefront of his mind. Oh right, Hagrid was supposed to be out there gathering Giants to their side of the war. Well, Harry thought, better him than me. The only thing I know about Giants is that they're humongous, stupid, and really hate the sound of trumpets.

Soon conversation tentatively turned to the Malfoy scion.

"Malfoy was being absolutely foul to a first year back there, I swear I'm going to report him, he's only had his badge three minutes and he's using it to bully people worse than ever..." Hermione grumbled, her hair frizzier than normal due to her worrying.

"He probably blackmailed to get that position." Ginny pointed out, "This isn't the first time he's pulled something like this."

"You see this is wwhy you should have let me cull him." Eridan muttered out with a slightly imperious air, "I wwould only be doin my duty after all."

"Eridan, we've been over this. No killing people." Harry sighed out as he put is hand on the troll's shoulder, "Scaring him, however, is allowed. Can you do that instead?"

"HARRY! Don't give him ideas!"

"Relax Hermione," Ron told his rather miffed friend, patting her back, "this is a better alternative to him killing the Slytherins."

"I suppose... Just make sure that if you do, don't get caught." Hermione said with a sigh of defeat.

"Of course not. What do you take us for Hermione? Amateurs?" Harry replied with a grin, mimicking the Twins' common saying.

"I wwill attempt to keep my homicidal tendencies to a minimum." Eridan told her solemnly.

"I guess that's the best I could hope for..." Hermione sighed out.

The carriages cleared the thick of trees, and in its wake left only what was ahead. And what was ahead was the Hogwarts Castle, standing proudly in the night. On one side of them was the Black Lake, illuminated by the moonlight, and Harry watched as the first-years-to-be stared with absolute wonder at the castle they would soon be living in. A wave of nostalgia hit the scar-headed teen, and let out a sigh of contentment. Yeah, Voldemort was back and was gathering followers for a war again, but right now the only thing that mattered was that he was going home, even if that home was filled with danger and gossiping children.

Harry turned to Eridan, who was looking at the castle in awe and grinned. He supposed that even though the alien had seen his fair share of Alternian castles, Hogwarts still takes the cake.

"So, what do you think?" Harry whispered to the troll, who was still staring at the castle in the distance.

"That's Hogwwarts?" was all the reply Harry got.

"Yeah, and to a lot of people, it's home as well."

Soon enough the carriages reached the castle, and the teens hopped out of them and walked up to the entrance of the castle before Hermione stopped one of their group. Harry looked back to see his bookworm friend hold an arm out to stop Eridan from passing through.

"Wwhat's wwrong?" asked the disguised alien with a quizzical look on his face.

"Since this will be your first time at Hogwarts, you'll be Sorted along with the first years." Hermione answered primly.

"If that was the case, wwhy wwas I not put on the boats like them as wwell?"

"We had to keep a close eye on you to make sure you didn't try to kill any of the first years." Hermione countered with a half hearted glare.

"Or the teacher." Ron supplied, making some of the group snort and Hermione roll her eyes.

"Ron and I will wait here with Eridan, you guys go on ahead."

"Why do I have to say?" Ron whined.

"Because we're both Prefects now Ronald! It's our duty!" Hermione snapped.

Harry merely shrugged and turned towards the castle.

"See you at the Feast then."

It didn't take long for Professor Grubbly-Plank to arrive with the rest of the first years, stopping at the steps where Eridan, Hermione, and Ron stood.

"What's going on here?" the woman asked, confused.

"This is Eridanus, he's a third year starting at Hogwarts, so he needs to be Sorted with the first years." Hermione told her in a slightly pompous tone.

"Ah, Dumbledore told me there was going to be something like that this year. Very well child, come with me." Professor Grubbly-Plank muttered whilst motioning for Eridan to come along, before turning to Ron and Hermione, "I'll take it from here. You two go and join the rest of your housemates at the Feast."

The two Gryffindor Prefects simply nodded before heading into the castle, passing by a rather familiar woman who was heading the other way. It was Professor McGonagall, who had come to greet the first years like she did every year. Professor Grubbly-Plank silently handed the children over to the tartan dressed Deputy Headmistress, and McGonagall led the first years (plus Eridan) into a small chamber off to the side of what Eridan assumed was the Great Hall. All the way the little troll marveled at the interior of the castle, smiling once again at the mix of colors that the humans loved to use.

Once everyone was inside the chamber, McGonagall turned to the group of nervous children.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she started, "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.

The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you, please wait quietly."

With that said, Professor McGonagall left the chamber, leaving Eridan alone with a crowd of defenseless children. Of course, he could do anything, but it made him feel a little better thinking that none of these humans could actually hurt him. This happy thought, however, was disrupted by a shriek. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the children also occupying the room. They seemed to be arguing amongst each other, and only after the disguised troll cleared his throat did they notice the crowd of terrified first years.

"New students!" a fat ghost with frills exclaimed, "About to Sorted? Ah, how quickly the time flies! Hope you get Sorted into Hufflepuff, that's my House, you know."

"Move along now," came the sharp voice of McGonagall, "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall. As Eridan watched mass of silvery bodies, he could have sworn he saw a familiar pair of spiral ram horns.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years and Eridan, glancing at the troll briefly, "and follow me."

The children did as they were told with barely a sound, too nervous to do anything else. They walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

And lo and behold, the most interesting sight Eridan had seen so far. The Great Hall was lit by thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting, each with their own corresponding colors of ether red, yellow, blue or green, laid out with golden nutrition plateaus and what appeared to be golden chalices. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver, and Eridan tried to catch another glimpse of those familiar horns to no avail. Looking up, he saw the starless sky instead if a regular stone ceiling, remembering how it was like that from that book Hermione lent to him.

At the top of the hall was another long table where all of the adult humans were sitting, and Eridan spotted Severus from his place near the green table and the slitherbeast motif. Professor McGonagall led the first years up to this table, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the other professors behind them.

The Deputy Headmistress walked around the side of the table, and silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the standing children. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Immediately the Great Hall went silent. Eridan looked at them incredulously. What was going on?

The whole school waited with bated breath for something to happen.

Then the rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth and the hat burst into song:

"In times of old when I was new

And Hogwarts barely started

The founders of our noble school

Thought never to be parted:

United by a common goal,

They had the selfsame yearning,

To make the world's best magic school

And pass along their learning.

"Together we will build and teach!"

The four good friends decided

And never did they dream that they

Might someday be divided,

For were there such friends anywhere

As Slytherin and Gryffndor?

Unless it was the second pair

Of Huffepuff and Ravenclaw?

So how could it have gone so wrong?

How could such friendships fail?

Why, I was there and so can tell

The whole sad, sorry tale.

Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those

Whose ancestry is purest."

Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose

Intelligence is surest."

Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those

With brave deeds to their name,"

Said Hufflepujf, "I'll teach the lot,

And treat them just the same."

These differences caused little strife

When first they came to light,

For each of the four founders had

A House in which they might

Take only those they wanted, so,

For instance, Slytherin

Took only pure-blood wizards

Of great cunning, just like him,

And only those of sharpest mind

Were taught by Ravenclaw

While the bravest and the boldest

Went to daring Gryffindor.

Good Hufflepujf she took the rest,

And taught them all she knew,

Thus the Houses and their founders

Retained friendships firm and true.

So Hogwarts worked in harmony

For several happy years,

But then discord crept among us

Feeding on our faults and fears.

The Houses that, like pillars four,

Had once held up our school,

Now turned upon each other and,

Divided, sought to rule.

And for a while it seemed the school

Must meet an early end,

What with dueling and with fighting

And the clash of friend on friend

And at last there came a morning

When old Slytherin departed

And though the fighting then died out

He left us quite downhearted.

And never since the founders four

Were whittled down to three

Have the Houses been united

As they once were meant to be.

And now the Sorting Hat is here

And you all know the score:

I sort you into Houses

Because that is what I'm for,

But this year I'll go further,

Listen closely to my song:

Though condemned I am to split you

Still I worry that it's wrong,

Though I must fulfill my duty

And must quarter every year

Still I wonder whether sorting

May not bring the end I fear.

Oh, know the perils, read the signs,

The warning history shows,

For our Hogwarts is in danger

From external, deadly foes

And we must unite inside her

Or we'll crumble from within.

I have told you, I have warned you...

Let the Sorting now begin."

The hat became motionless once more, and applause broke out, though it was punctured with muttering and whispers. All across the Great Hall students were exchanging remarks with their neighbors, but Eridan paid no heed to them. The hat just sang a most curious song, not only describe the Houses but also giving the school a warning. If the noise from the Great Hall was something to go by, this was not a normal occurrence at all. It only pointed to how dangerous things were getting around here in this area of the strange planet, and Eridan wondered once more if there was anything he could do to get around that infernal 'no killing' rule.

Suddenly, the Great Hall went silent as McGonagall glared sternly at all those who were whispering, before unfurling the parchment in her hands and shouting out:

"Abercrombie, Euan."

The child looked absolutely terrified as he stumbled forward and put the Hat on his head, which was only prevented from falling right down to his shoulders by his very prominent ears. The Hat considered for a moment, then the rip near the brim opened again and shouted,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The students sitting at the table with the roarbeast motif stood up and clapped, Eridan noticing that most of Harry and his friends belonged to this House.

With that, Eridan ran his human name through his mind, waiting his turn. Slowly, however, the amount of students thinned and the troll realized that since he was going into a different year, he was probably going to be Sorted last. Perfect, another reason to stand around in anticipation, which was grating on Eridan's already thinning patience.

Finally, the last first year student "Zeller, Rose" was sorted into Hufflepuff.

"Ampora-Black, Eridanus!"

In hindsight, Eridan should really have expected the stares and the whispering, but at the time when he was walking up to the Sorting Hat, the only thing running through his mind was how to kill all those little whelps staring at him.

Blackness covered his sight, and Eridan felt something rifle through his mind.

"Well, well." a voice that sounded like the singing hat muttered in his head, "What do we have here? You are not from here, are you Mr. Ampora?"

"No, I'm sure you knoww I'm not." Eridan thought-replied, "I assume you are the Sorting Hat?"

"That I am. And I must say, it is truly a marvel to look into the mind of such a creature as yourself, who has come from a world rather different than our own. So many things are the same, and yet not so. It is a good thing you are to be Sorted last, as this might take a little bit. I would have to take your upbringing into consideration, though I have to wonder if it should really matter. You are, after all, an anomaly.

Now, where to put you...

There is no question to your cunning and ambition, your drive to destroy and defeat is not lost on me. Slytherin would do you well, however... Your loyalties to your friends are unmatched, and while betrayal is common in Alternia, the close knit group of friends that you have there seem to lack any traitorous thoughts, yet the passive Hufflepuff House does not fit your personality all.

Your friends at Gryffindor, I'm sure, would grandly accept you and your...trigger-happy ways, and your bravery in exploring an unknown world could certainly put you in the House of the Lions.

...but you seem to have caught onto my train of thought, haven't you Mr. Ampora? That is correct. While you are brave in the face of a strange new world, it is your need to understand it that drives you. Your cunning and ambition spawn from your pursuit of knowledge, and your loyalties strengthen the more you know about them. There is only one House that I can place you as. And that House is..."

"RAVENCLAW!"

Chapter Text

Alternia Interlude - Karkat Vantas

"NO, TROLL RICHARD GERE! CAN YOU NOT SEE SHE'S FLUSHED FOR YOU EVEN THOUGH YOU'RE A PURPLE BLOOD AND SHE'S RUST? SHE ALREADY FILLED A BUCKET WITH YOU YOU FUCKING BULGEWIT! TAKE HER AS YOUR MATESPRIT AND LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER!"

Shouting was common in the Vantas hivehold, and today was no different. Karkat's yells shook the sturdy grey cement walls of his rumpusblock. Another Rom-Com today, but when is it ever any different? He heard his Lusus Crabdad screech at his volume from the floor below, probably something along the lines of 'SHUT UP AND WATCH THE DAMN MOVIE IN PEACE' or something like that. One can derive that yes, a troll shares many personality traits with their Lusus.

Today had been a pretty boring one. This was his 52nd time watching this particular one (not that he was complaining, it was one of his favorites) and he didn't have anything to do after it was over. Usually he'd pester one of his friends, but Sollux was still trying to find the perfect look for his character in his new role playing game (even though it had already been WEEKS since he first got the fucking thing in the mail), Terezi was FLARPing with Serket (and he didn't wan to risk trolling her just in case the spider troll was around), Gamzee was currently in a post-sopor food coma, and Ampora had somehow managed to go gallivanting on another fucking PLANET.

He wasn't JEALOUS, per say, but let's face it, no troll under the age of majority ever got off Alternia. Noting that, somehow the non-sea-dwelling seadweller managed to do it under the drones' ever present radar. While he was happy that somebody managed to do it, he was unhappy that he couldn't joking in on the fun until later. His Rom-Com buddy had stressed quite a bit on trollian that Earth was morally and culturally different to Alternia.

Not that he minded. After all, he had to admit he wasn't the most violent out of all of his friends (Empress knows that title belonged to the one troll on the new fucking planet), and the fact that all humans (as these aliens were called) bled the same color as him. That and no culling. Earth apparently had a 'no killing' rule which was something he could really get behind.

Not dying because of his blood color would be really, really awesome.

His mind had been submerged in this for so long that Karkat was jolted out of it once the opening credits started playing on the screen in front of him. Mildly annoyed at being both yanked out of his thoughts and missing the end of his Rom-Com, he stomped towards the machine below the screen and ejected the disc, carefully placing it back into its case.

His eyes shifted from side to side in a paranoid manner to make sure no one was looking before softly stroking the cover of the disc case, smiling as his grey-contacted eyes skimmed over the cover art of an embracing troll couple with the receding title in the background describing the plot of the film. Ah, how he loved his beloved Rom-Coms.

Crabdad screeched once more from the floor below, this one more of a questioning tone.

"YEAH I'M FINE. IS DINNER ALMOST READY? I THINK THE SUN WILL BE UP IN A COUPLE HOURS."

Another screech answered his question to be affirmative. Walking into his closet, Karkat placed the case in his hands back in its place on one of the shelves. Closing the door behind him as he exited, the mutant blooded troll let out a sigh. He didn't tell the guy, but he kind of missed having Ampora around. You could just troll him on a whim to hang out and he'll be at your door in minutes if he wasn't FLARPing beforehand. They'd even have mini-feels jams as Gamzee may be a good listener, but sometimes he didn't GET Karkat's problems all that well (being stoned all the time and believing anything and everything to be a "MoThErFuCkInG MiRaClE"). It made him wonder how his moiraillengence with Peixes was going if that was the case, as the fuchsia-blooded heiress was the one who should be doing these kinds of things. Maybe they do, maybe they don't, it wasn't Karkat's business to pry on these things (even though he does anyway, there was something about gossip that was too good to pass up).

Crabdad screeched again from below, signaling that food was now prepared. He didn't know why, but even now his Lusus insisted on preparing meals for him, as if he were still a small wriggler. It was probably so that he'd be less likely to have an accident and expose his blood color, but it still made him fell kind of useless and vulnerable. It wasn't like he would be able to join the army if he got a wound in battle. He'll probably be culled on the day of career trials. His lifespan would end at adulthood if he didn't find another way, Karkat thought sourly to himself as he thumped down the stairs to where his custodian was waiting with a steaming pot of grub stew. His cartilagenous nub took in the rich and savory scent as he sat down to eat, patting the exoskeleton of his Lusus when he did so. He didn't really want this to end. He had good friends, a good caretaker, and a determination to survive.

All the more reason to think about that new planet. It would be a place he could reside without being culled by trolls, and he could easily see his friends on Alternia using whatever device Eridan managed to procure. Perhaps the next time he talks to Ampora, he'd ask him about the offer he posed in the store all those weeks ago. Maybe it was time to look at a chance of living past adulthood.

Noise.

Lots and lots of noise.

That was the first thing that the small troll noted after the Sorting Hat called out his House. The Hat was lifted from its place atop his head, and his sensed became overloaded with sounds and sights. Applause had erupted from the blue and bronze table with the predatory squawkbeast motif, and Eridan felt dizzy as he managed to stumble his way to the benches there. Some students scooted aside to make room, treating him like every other student that had gone to their House previously. Perhaps transfer students were relatively common, or perhaps in light of recent events it was expected to happen eventually.

Thankfully the resonating sound of clapping and voices died down, and McGonagall swept away with the stool, putting it away before taking her place at the professor's table. The walking fashion disast- Headmaster Dumbledore stood from his place at the center of this table and walked up to the podium in front of it.

"To our newcomers," boomed Dumbledore in a ringing voice, his arms stretched wide and a beaming smile on his face, "welcome! To our old hands, welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

There was an appreciative laugh and another outbreak of applause as Dumbledore sat down neatly and threw his long beard over his shoulder so as to keep it out of the way of his plate. It was then that Eridan noticed that food had appeared out of nowhere, so that the five long tables were groaning under joints and pies and dishes of vegetables, bread, sauces, and flagons of pumpkin juice. A wide grin crept up to his face. Oh, how he loved magic.

Eagerly he looked around at all the food, spooning a bit of everything on his plate. Unfortunately for him, most of the foods tasted too bland on his troll palate. With a resigned sigh, he instead took to sucking on the peppermint humbugs, which were nice and minty, but not filling.

"The Feast not doing well for you?" came a voice next to him.

Turning his head, the disguised troll turned to see Luna Lovegood staring at him good-naturedly with her usual far-off expression. She was still wearing her radish earrings and her butterbeer cork necklace but had put away her Spectre Specs at some point during the train ride.

"I suppose I still havve some problems wwith the taste...it's just so..." Eridan started, but Luna held a finger to his lips to silence him.

"It's alright. Dessert should start soon, which means there will be cakes and puddings and lots of sweets. So don't fret, and try to get those Wrackspurts out of your ears before you worry too much."

As if the Magic had heard her words, the table once more filled with food, and the scents that flowed into him were wonderfully sweet. This time he took larger portions of the sugar-filled foods, making up for what he didn't eat at the meal portion of the Feast. When he had filled up his plate, he turned back to Luna. She was spooning some pudding into her plate with unhidden glee. Like him, she seemed to be taking more of the dessert than she had the savory meals. Without even turning to him, she plopped some of the gelatinous foodstuff into Eridan's plate as well.

"Try it, the pudding here is wonderful. Not as good as what my mum made, but close enough." Luna told him with a faraway look, yet there was a hint of sad sentimentality around her.

Eridan tentatively tasted the spoonful of pudding. It did not clash with his Alternian palate. On the contrary, it was brilliantly sweet and creamy, just like a milky grubpaste. The meal passed in a similar manner, with Luna quietly explained the different foods to him as he tried each one. She was a wonderful help to him, as he was sure at the beginning of the Feast that he was going to be unable to blend into the human culture well enough. Thankfully Luna seemed to have picked up on his distress and had decided to aid him.

It seems that he won't be alone in Ravenclaw after all, he thought with a smile.

Harry and the rest of the Legacy clapped appreciatively when Eridan was Sorted into Ravenclaw, the choice having been so obvious to them since the first dinner with him at 12 Grimmauld Place. After the clapping had simmered down, the Headmaster stood up from his place at the Head Table to say his customary speech. Dumbledore, in his usual fashion, only said a few words of welcome before allowing the Feast to truly begin. It was calming to see the man up there, ever present and a beacon of safety to those who dwelled within the walls of Hogwarts. Though, how safe it could be with a homicidal alien in their midst could be questioned, but Harry wasn't too worried about Eridan doing anything crazy yet. Soon enough, food appeared and Harry's stomach rumbled at the sight of it.

"Excellent," said Ron, with a kind of groan of longing, and he seized the nearest plate of chops and began piling them onto his plate, watched wistfully by Nearly Headless Nick.

"It's strange, isn't it? I've never heard the Hat sing such an odd song before..." Neville mumbled into his bean casserole.

"Too right," Harry agreed readily.

"I wonder if it's ever given warnings before?" said Hermione, sounding slightly anxious.

"Yes, indeed," said Nearly Headless Nick knowledgeably, leaning across Neville toward her (Neville winced, it was very uncomfortable to have a ghost lean through you, all cold and icy), "The hat feels itself honor-bound to give the school due warning whenever it feels as if it is needed."

"So this has happened before?" asked Ginny curiously, spooning some mashed potatoes and gravy into her dish.

"Oh yes!" exclaimed Nick, who seemed glad of a reason to turn away from Ron, who was now eating roast potatoes with almost indecent enthusiasm, "Yes, I have heard the hat give several warnings before, always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: Stand together, be strong from within."

"Did the school actually heed those warnings?" was the question asked by Harry at the same time Ron had uttered out:

"Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?"

His mouth was so full Harry thought it was quite an achievement for him to make any noise at all.

"I beg your pardon?" asked Nearly Headless Nick politely, while Hermione looked revolted, though Ron paid it no heed and simply gave an enormous swallow and repeated clearly, "How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a hat?"

"I have no idea," answered Nearly Headless Nick, "Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks things up there."

It would make sense that the Hat would have done such things. Dumbledore might not have even realized that he Hat was listening in on his conversations. If the little snippets that the Hat caught from Dumbledore's office was so bad that it had to give a song like that, things might have been worse than he anticipated. But at least they now had help, albeit a small, homicidal one.

Speaking of which...

He turned toward the Ravenclaw table, where the small troll was now seated. This kind of setting was probably nothing like he was used to, and Harry could see the signs of the alien getting a little jittery. He was a little worried that Eridan would attempt to murder some of his fellow hapless first years, but it appeared that Luna now had the situation under control, distracting the troll from the potentially nosey Housemates. Luckily said Housemates were content on talking about the Hat's new song, or the upcoming year. With a contented sigh, Harry Potter turned back to the marvelous dessert that had just appeared in front of him, and helped himself to a large serving of his favorite treacle tart.

When all the students had finished eating and the noise level in the hall was starting to creep upward again, Dumbledore got to his feet once more. Talking ceased immediately as all turned to face the headmaster. Harry was feeling pleasantly drowsy now. His four-poster bed was waiting somewhere above, wonderfully warm and soft...

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," started Dumbledore, "First years ought to know that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to students... and a few of our older students ought to know by now too."

They did not miss the lingering look that everyone had on the Weasley twins, who puffed out their chests and pretended to look heroic, as if breaking such rules was a grand task placed upon them by a higher power.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door." Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling on with humor, before subtly becoming more sober.

"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons, and we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

At the name, Harry's head snapped to the Head Table. There she was, in all her pink cardigan wearing glory (or un-glory...), looking like she was a cat who got the cream. For a brief second they locked eyes, brilliant wide emerald green with sickeningly black beady ones, before breaking apart in mutual hatred and understanding. She was here so that the ministry could make sure Hogwarts doesn't step even a tiny toe out of line against them.

"Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the-" Dumbledore started but suddenly broke off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge.

As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking.

"Hem, hem."

Ah, a speech. How unpleasant. What was she even going to talk about? The reason why she, of all people, was here to mess with Hogwarts? Was she going to try to placate them with sugared words and flowery speeches in an attempt to make herself appear nicer? Harry has heard all that bullshit before with Aunt Petunia and her ladies' clubs.

It was clear however, that he was not the only one displeased with this new addition. Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, before sitting back down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk. The other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise and displeasure. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair, and Professor McGonagall's mouth was as thin as Harry had ever seen it.

No new teacher had ever interrupted Dumbledore before. Many of the students were smirking. This woman obviously did not know how things were done at Hogwarts.

"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpered, "for those kind words of welcome."

Her voice was high-pitched, breathy, and little-girlish. It was like someone had burned a cake and attempted to cover it up with light pink frosting and flowers, only to his ears. Harry felt a powerful rush of dislike for the woman once again, and almost rolled his eyes when the woman cleared her threat again.

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" she tittered out and smiled, revealing very pointed teeth, "And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"

Harry suppressed the urge to retch. He glanced around the room to see everyone else's reactions to this. None of the faces he could see looked happy. On the contrary, they all looked rather taken aback at being addressed as though they were five years old. Harry was used to being treated like a child, but it was never this... blatant.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"

It was actually kind of disgusting, the way she talked. Discreetly Harry took a glance at Eridan over at the Ravenclaw table, and wasn't surprised to see that the tiny troll looked livid. In his human form, Eridan's ire was actually kind of cute, but Harry knew better. Luna seemed to be squeezing his hand in an effort to make sure he didn't just march up there and blast Umbridge with his rifle. Closer to Harry, students exchanged looks at her words. Some of them were barely concealing grins.

"I'll be her friend as long as I don't have to borrow that cardigan," Parvati whispered to Lavender, and both of them lapsed into quite giggles.

Those who heard the comment were trying very hard not to laugh. Unfortunately, Umbridge was not one of them. She cleared her throat in her quickly-becoming-a-cliche manner of hem, hem. When she continued some of the breathiness had vanished from her voice. She sounded much more businesslike and now her words had a dull learned-by-heart sound to them, which Harry thought was a little better than the falsetto act she was trying to pull before.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."

Hippogriff shit, Harry thought as Professor Umbridge paused here and made a little bow to her fellow staff members. To the green eyed teen's joy and amusement, none of them bowed back. Snape retained the image of being genuinely bored, but years of learning how to read the Potions Professor has allowed the Boy Who Lived to see that the man had a familiar murderous tinge to his obsidian eyes. Professor McGonagall's dark eyebrows had contracted so that she looked positively hawklike, and Harry distinctly saw her exchange a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge cleared her threat again and went on with her speech.

"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation..."

It sounded good, on the surface, but after meeting this woman in the Ministry and seeing the way she operated showed Harry that she was hinting at something far more sinister. Even so, Harry found his attentiveness ebbing, as though his brain was slipping in and out of focus. The quiet that had always filled the Hall when Dumbledore was speaking was breaking up as students put their heads together, whispering and giggling.

Over at the Ravenclaw table, Cho Chang was chatting animatedly with her friends. A few seats along from Cho, Luna had got out the Quibbler again, trying to pull Eridan out of his homicidal storm. His face conveyed that it wasn't working very well. Harry internally sighed. It was already going to be difficult keeping Eridan under wraps with Malfoy, but with this added problem Harry wondered how long it would take for the genocidal troll to just snap and blast someone to smithereens. Even the human disguise could not hide his inhuman nature then, nor could it change his upbringing. Harry was also beginning to struggle with himself. While he was raised to understand that killing was bad, he also was tempted to let the troll loose and get rid of his problems for him. One blast for Malfoy, one for Fudge, one for Umbridge, and a big whopping blast for Voldemort. It would be so EASY...

Harry shook his head and attempted to distract himself from his own thoughts, turning to the Hufflepuff table. Ernie Macmillan was one of the few still staring at Professor Umbridge, but he was glassy-eyed and he was sure the yellow-wearing teen was only pretending to listen in an attempt to live up to the new prefect's badge gleaming on his chest. Chancing a glance at the Slytherin table, Harry saw that things were not very different there either, though some (cough, Malfoy, cough) wear at least pretending to listen in order to impress the Ministry's Toad.

Professor Umbridge did not appear to notice the restlessness of her audience. Harry had the distinct impression that a full-scale riot could have broken out under her nose and she would have plowed on with her speech, albeit perhaps with gritted teeth. The teachers, however, were still listening very attentively, and Hermione seemed to be drinking in every word Umbridge spoke. Though judging by her expression, they were not at all to her taste.

"...because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

As she sat down, Harry could not prevent the shiver that ran down his spine. The Ministry really was trying the overrun Hogwarts. He cast a glance at Eridan once again, only to find the same murderously clam facade that Snape had. Internally he wondered if he should take bets on how long the woman was going to last in this castle, especially after THAT declaration.

Dumbledore clapped. The staff followed his lead, though Harry noticed that several of them brought their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students joined in, but most had been taken unawares by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they could start applauding properly, Dumbledore had stood up again.

"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he said genially, bowing to her, "Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held..."

"Yes, it certainly was illuminating," muttered Hermione in a low voice.

"You're not telling me you enjoyed it?" Ron asked quietly, turning a glazed face upon Hermione, "That was about the dullest speech I've ever heard, and I grew up with Percy."

"I said illuminating, not enjoyable," grumbled Hermione, "It explained a lot."

"Nothing that wasn't unpredictable. It was pretty obvious from the beginning why the bloody hell she's here. Besides, the Ministry interfering with Hogwarts is the LEAST of our worries." Harry added, to his friends' surprise.

"And what's that?" Hermione sniffed out before Harry discreetly tilted his head toward the Ravenclaw table and her eyes widened in dawning understanding, "...oh, right."

After following their gazes, Ron let out a snort.

"Yeah, how long would it take for the Ministry to lose one of their employees to an alien psychopath?"

Said alien psychopath was watching as the students from every table began to stand up after Dumbledore had officially dismissed them to their dorms. He sat there rigidly, hands clamped to the edge of the table, waiting for the flurry of cloaks and scarves to leave before he joined the stifling crowd again.

"First years, over here!" shouted a girl around Hermione's age, decked in the Ravenclaw colors and a shiny badge pinned to her cloak.

When she got nearer to the table, her eyes zeroed in on him.

"Ah, you're the new student. I was told you'll be coming with the first years for now to show you how things are done at Hogwarts okay?" she told him kindly, though some of the older students chuckled a little at the fact a thirteen year old was being grouped with a bunch of first years.

Unashamed and with his head held high, Eridan followed her alongside the rest of the new students. As they walked down the hallways out of the Great Hall, the male prefect sped up and began to walk backwards in front of them, addressing the group with a large grin on his face.

"Congratulations on your Sorting! I'm Prefect Robert Hilliard, and I'm delighted to welcome you to the brilliant RAVENCLAW HOUSE. Our emblem is the eagle, which soars where others cannot climb! Our house colors are blue and bronze, and our common room is found at the top of the Ravenclaw Tower, behind a door with an enchanted knocker. The arched windows set into the walls of our circular common room look down at the school grounds: the Black Lake, the Forbidden Forest, the Quidditch pitch and the Herbology gardens. No other house in the school has such stunning views!"

Some of the first years oohed and aahed at this, nervousness slowly trickling away from them. Eridan breathed a sigh of relief, not from the words, but from the lack of fear that had been crushing his senses from all sides. Robert Hilliard and the female prefect both excreted confidence and excitement.

"Without wishing to boast, this is the house where the cleverest witches and wizards live. Our founder, Rowena Ravenclaw, prized learning above all else - and so do we! Unlike the other houses, who all have concealed entrances to their common rooms, we don't need one. The door to our common room lies at the top of a tall, winding staircase. It has no handle, but an enchanted bronze knocker in the shape of an eagle. When you rap on the door, this knocker will ask you a riddle, and if you can answer it correctly, you are allowed in. This simple barrier has kept out everyone but Ravenclaws for nearly a thousand years!"

Eridan, ever the sceptic, highly doubted this. If all the barred the student from entering is a riddle, then anyone with a clever mind (like his Gryffindor friends) could enter. Even so, he felt the nervousness and fear from the first years beginning to rise, most likely because they were not confident that they could answer any riddle. Sensing this, the prefect continued.

"Some first-years, like you at the moment, are scared by having to answer the eagle's questions, but don't worry. Ravenclaws learn quickly, and you'll soon enjoy the challenges the door sets. It's not unusual to find twenty people standing outside the common room door, all trying to work out the answer to the day's question together. This is a great way to meet fellow Ravenclaws from other years, and to learn from them – although it is a bit annoying if you've forgotten your Quidditch robes and need to get in and out in a hurry. In fact, I'd advise you to triple-check your bag for everything you need before leaving Ravenclaw Tower."

That sounded incredibly counterproductive in the troll's opinion, though shared living was also just a big no-no in Alternia in general. With the implementation of a value or supposed common trait to the security of the common hivehold came the problem of those who couldn't use it but live there nonetheless. For example, Ravenclaw is supposed to value intelligence, but that didn't mean the student had to have much of it. This poor Ravenclaw would have to wait until another housemate came along to help them figure out how to get into their abode.

This was why troll hives all had different methods of defending their home. Only with the permission of the sole inhabitant could another troll pass through these defenses. Unless, like Captor, they lived in a compound hive complex, but even then each hive block had its own way of warding off the other inhabitants of the building. Eridan's train of thought turned to his own hive, which was now protected by lasers and other interesting traps of all sorts. In a way, he was looking forward to putting those defenses to good use, though he would have to replace the traps if they were used.

"Another cool thing about Ravenclaw is that our people are the most individual. Some might even call them eccentrics. But geniuses are often out of step with ordinary folk, and unlike some other houses we could mention, we think you've got the right to wear what you like, believe what you want, and say what you feel. We aren't put off by people who march to a different tune. On the contrary, we value them!"

Which explained why the Hat decided to put him in the house in the first place. Trolls were highly individual people, who only amassed rarely in groups of blood color. Being in the house of the eccentric would mask any strangeness or slip-ups he had, including Alternian jargon or habits. The talking piece of fabric was smarter than he gave it credit for.

"Speaking of eccentrics, you'll like our Head of house, Professor Filius Flitwick. People often underestimate him, because he's really tiny (we think he's part goblin, but we've never been rude enough to ask) and he's got a squeaky voice, but he's the best and most knowledgeable Charms master alive in the world today. His office door is always open to any Ravenclaw with a problem, and if you're in a real state he'll get out these delicious little cupcakes he keeps in a tin in his desk drawer and make them do a little dance for you. In fact, it's worth pretending you're in a real state just to see them jive."

Eridan absentmindedly wondered if Flitwick would be able to understand Gobbledegook. Even a bastardized version of his native tongue would be better than none. He didn't want to admit it, but the emotion known as "home-sickness" was starting to sink into his system, and he didn't like it in the slightest.

"Ravenclaw house has an illustrious history. Most of the greatest wizarding inventors and innovators were in our house, including Perpetua Fancourt, the inventor of the lunascope, Laverne de Montmorency, a great pioneer of love potions, and Ignatia Wildsmith, the inventor of Floo powder. Famous Ravenclaw Ministers for Magic include Millicent Bagnold, who was in power on the night that Harry Potter survived the Dark Lord's curse, and defended the wizarding celebrations all over Britain with the words, 'I assert our inalienable right to party'. There was also Minister Lorcan McLaird, who was a quite brilliant wizard, but preferred to communicate by puffing smoke out of the end of his wand. Well, I did say we produce eccentrics. In fact, we are also the house that gave the wizarding world Uric the Oddball, who used a jellyfish for a hat. He's the punch line of a lot of wizarding jokes."

He remembered hearing about all these people in Hogwarts, a History, but other than become confused about the strangeness of humans, he didn't really pay attention to them all that much. It gave him enough information on the goals and behavior of the society, as well as some VERY interesting uses of magic, but it wasn't really the people that interested him. Even so, to hear a casual version of the texts and the variations of how their history is told was enticing to him as well, though unfortunately nobody other than Minister Bagnold was connected to some sort of military history.

"As for our relationship with the other three houses: well, you've probably heard about the Slytherins. They're not all bad, but you'd do well to be on your guard until you know them well. They've got a long house tradition of doing whatever it takes to win so watch out, especially in Quidditch matches and exams."

Thoughts immediately turned to Malfoy, who Eridan was itching to just blast into the ground along with his two hulking bookends. But then there was Severus, who was the Head of Slytherin. Severus, who was the most like Eridan that the troll had ever seen, closer to him than even the Orphaner.

"The Gryffindors are OK. If I had a criticism, I'd say Gryffindors tend to be show-offs. They're also much less tolerant than we are of people who are different; in fact, they've been known to make jokes about Ravenclaws who have developed an interest in levitation, or the possible magical uses of troll bogies, or ovomancy, which (as you probably know) is a method of divination using eggs. Gryffindors haven't got our intellectual curiosity, whereas we've got no problem if you want to spend your days and nights cracking eggs in a corner of the common room and writing down your predictions according to the way the yolks fall. In fact, you'll probably find a few people to help you."

That didn't sound like his Gryffindor friends at all, though to be fair perhaps the members of the Legacy were not like the rest of their house. Harry was more of a Slytherin than his Gryffindor colors advertised, and both Ron and Hermione have been incredibly quick to adapt to the strange situations his arrival had put them in. Neville was none of the traits that the Ravenclaw prefect had just listed, and while Ginny could sometimes come off as a show-off on Quidditch topics, she wasn't overly boastful. Equally so, Luna had told Eridan of the ridicule she had endured from members of her own house for her habits, so the troll was incredibly skeptical of the prefect's words.

"As for the Hufflepuffs, well, nobody could say they're not nice people. In fact, they're some of the nicest people in the school. Let's just say you needn't worry too much about them when it comes to competition at exam time."

As he had discreetly eyed the yellow and black table during the Feast, he couldn't help but silently agree with that, though this too could be an incorrect assumption.

"I think that's nearly everything. Oh yes, our house ghost is the Grey Lady. The rest of the school thinks she never speaks, but she'll talk to Ravenclaws. She's particularly useful if you're lost, or you've mislaid something."

For some reason that comment sparked Eridan's memory on Megido's...somewhat strange trollian message of 'don't forget to talk to the ghosts'. It made him wonder if she could communicate with the spirits on Earth as well as Alternia. He knew she had a habit of bringing in the ghosts to help her on excavation trips, as she had demonstrated the last time that she had brought him along as a consultant on the Battle of Grimorah. It had been both a frightening and fascinating experience.

"I'm sure you'll have a good night. Our dormitories are in turrets off the main tower. our four-poster beds are covered in sky blue silk eiderdowns and the sound of the wind whistling around the windows is very relaxing. As Ravenclaws encourages self study in anything that interests you, each student gets their own separate sleeping quarters, as past happenings suggest that it might be...less hazardous this way."

Well, if you put individuals who love to experiment in a shared sleeping quarters, at least one kind of disaster is going to happen. Eridan thought back to his lab back near the Archway and what it would have been like to do those experiments with others sleeping around him. The issue was pretty obvious, but the house had thankfully remedied it.

They had just climbed up the tall, winding staircase that the prefect had described early in their journey, and the troll couldn't help but marvel at the intricately crafted silver railing. In fact, he couldn't help but be in awe at the castle's architecture overall. Everything was crafted in such incredible detail and care, much like the underwater palace of his dear moirail.

One could not say that the Heiress didn't have good taste.

At last, the group of Ravenclaws reached the top of the staircase, and were met with the sight of the infamous bronze knocker. It was indeed shaped like a predatory squawkbeast, its head tilted low as if to scrutinize the lot of them. Robert Hilliard the prefect took the knocker in his hand and rapped the door three time with it before stepping back and waiting.

To Eridan's unhidden glee, the metal began to move, the eagle bursting to life. It blinked as few times before raising its head in an imperial manner.

"I do not breathe, but I run and jump.

I do not eat, but I swim and stretch.

I do not drink, but I sleep and stand.

I do not think, but I grow and play.

I do not see, but you see me every day."

Owlishly the first years blinked, and the troll had to mull over the riddle in his head. Prefect Robert Hilliard smiled before stretching his arms out.

"Alright! Let's solve this one together! What do you think it could be?" he asked them with a smile.

Most of the first years gathered together and murmured to each other quietly. Eridan tried to think of something that fits, but was still coming up with nothing. Memory, he was good with. Tactical warfare? He could do that too. Riddles and word games? Not his forte. A movement to his left caught his eye, and he saw one of the first year Ravenclaws shifting where they stood, a little embarrassed. Silently he crept towards her.

"Is there somethin wwrong?" he whispered to her, causing her to squeak softly in surprise.

"Well...I've read this riddle in a book when I was younger, so I know the answer. I feel like it's cheating though..." she muttered out under her breath, her cheeks turning pink for some reason.

He could sense embarrassment coming off of her, as well as something else he couldn't pinpoint. However, at this point he was a little impatient to see the inside of Ravenclaw Tower, so he paid this no heed and pressed on with his questioning.

"Wwhat's the answwer?" Eridan asked curiously, his eyebrow raised.

This made the girl turn even redder and sputter a bit before stammering out the answer. What was with this human? Was she sick? A thought passed through his head, but he immediately dismissed it as completely ridiculous.

"It's a leg. Ingenious, isn't it?" she managed to squeak out.

Fortunately for the rest of the first years and the Prefects, the knocker seemed to pick up on her words.

"Correct. You may enter. Welcome back to Ravenclaw Tower." it told them imperiously.

As the rest of the crowd gasped in surprise, Eridan gave the girl a wide smile.

"Indeed. It is vvery ingenious."

As the girl beamed and stammered out what vaguely sounded like a 'thank you' under all the repeated phonics she was spouting out, the rest of the first years followed the prefects into the tower. Like a bottle of Faygo had finally been opened after vigorously shaking it, they all streamed into the new room with no little amount of pushing and pulling.

The view was well worth the wait. The Common Room was decked out in royal blue, silver and bronze. Eagle statues were regarding them carefully, and muttered to themselves about the new arrivals. Bookshelves were packed tightly together, and nearly reached the roof of the room. It wasn't nearly the size of the one in his Hive, but it was enough that he felt the homesickness in his system simmer down at the familiar sight. A fire was at the furthest corner of the room, crackling loudly in the quietness. Sofas, Plush chairs, and things that were undoubtedly bean bags were scattered around the room, near tables of various shapes and sizes and colors. Since the color scheme was limited to only three main colors, Eridan felt himself relax a little. While it did remind him of Zahhak with the blue, it felt much like a royal troll's Hive above everything else. For some reason that calmed him down even more.

Robert Hilliard and the female prefect clapped their hands to get the students' attention before speaking again.

"Alright! We know you guys are probably all tired and ready to crawl into bed so we'll make this quick. Girl's dorms are on the right and boy's are on the left. You'll see the stairs branch off in seven directions. Just head over to the one with the "I" Roman Numeral, as you are first years. Your names will be inscribed on the plaque on your door. So goodnight to all of you, and once again: well done on becoming a member of the cleverest, quirkiest and most interesting house at Hogwarts!"

With that, the students dispersed into their appropriate areas, Eridan following the boys over to the left of the room. True to the prefects' words, the words "Eridanus Ampora-Black" was inscribed on a bronze plaque on one of the royal blue painted doors. Silently, Eridan wondered if he'll be able to get used to such a strange and convoluted name.

Opening the door, Eridan took note of his new sleeping quarters. The floor was covered in a dark blue carpet, and a four poster bed with curtains sat to the far right of the room. His trunk sat at the foot of the bed, gleaming at him in the pale moonlight. Next to the night table on the left was a dark painted desk, and above the desk was a rather large window that showed the view of the outside of Hogwarts. The moon shown brightly into the room, illuminating the Forest and the Black lake as well outside. It wasn't like the view from his Hive, nor was it like 12 Grimmauld Place. Eridan knew he would be able to get used to it, but the currently breathtaking view was not anything he had ever seen before. Again a pang of longing washed over him, but he squashed it down resolutely.

He wanted this. He wanted to go here and study Magic, which wasn't something that he could do back home. He was a soldier from Alternia, dammit, and he could get through these childish emotions.

Feeling suddenly very drained, he capchalogged the bed and uncapchalogged his recupracoon instead. Digging into his trunk (under his own identification sign which the humans called "Aquarius") he found his sleeping trunks and changed into them. Tiredly he sunk into the calming feeling of the sopor slime, duel eyelids blinking blearily from all that had happened. Excitement shot through him when he thought of the magic he would learn here, but worry began to seep in after he recalled the arrival of that disgusting woman and that fuckface named Malfoy.

Oh, if only he was allowed to kill them...

That was Eridan's last thought before drifting into sopor-induced slumber.

Harry was, frankly, too tired for this kind of thing right now. He ignored the stares from everyone in the Great Hall, ignored the fact that he didn't know the password to get in the Common Room (Neville was nice enough to tell him the password, grinning as he did so as it was the same name as that plant he got for his birthday), ignored whatever the Weasley Twins were putting up on the Notice Board (not tonight, not tonight) but once he got to his dormitory, things got...annoying. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were putting up more posters to cover their sides of the wall (Dean managed to bribe Collin halfway through their third year to make the pictures on his posters move, so now the warring posters frequently have muggle verses magical sport arguments that could get rather funny) and chatting animatedly until he had walked in, where they fell completely silent.

He had the feeling he had just walked into some sort of Wizarding Drama.

"Hi," Harry mumbled tiredly, moving across to his own trunk and opening it.

"Hey, Harry," reciprocated Dean, who was putting on a pair of pajamas in the West Ham colors, "Good holiday?"

"Yeah, pretty good, despite a few hiccups." he answered truthfully, his mind thinking about Sirius's disappearance, reappearance, his trial, and the alien named Eridan, exchanging knowing looks with Neville, "You?"

"Yeah, it was okay," chuckled Dean, "Better than Seamus's anyway, he was just telling me."

"Why, what happened, Seamus?" Neville asked as he placed his Mimbulus mimbletonia tenderly on his bedside cabinet.

Seamus did not answer immediately, making rather a meal of ensuring that his poster of the Kenmare Kestrels Quidditch team was quite straight. Then he said, with his back still turned to Harry,

"Me mam didn't want me to come back."

"What?" sputtered Harry, pausing in the act of pulling off his robes.

"She didn't want me to come back to Hogwarts."

Seamus turned away from his poster and pulled his own pajamas out of his trunk, still not looking at Harry.

"But why?" asked Neville, half shocked and half curious.

Harry had a sinking feeling about this, and his brain was slowly shutting down due to being both full and tired. Seamus did not answer until he had finished buttoning his pajamas.

"Well," he said in a measured voice, "I suppose...because of you, Harry."

As usual, it's all because of me, Harry thought with a silent groan. He was expecting this. Blaming Harry Potter happened on a yearly basis at Hogwarts anyway, it just happened much earlier than usual.

"...What do you mean by that?" he asked quietly after a slight pause.

"Well," mumbled Seamus again, still avoiding Harry's eyes, "she...er...well, it's not just you, it's Dumbledore too..."

"She believes the Daily Prophet?" finished Harry flatly, "She thinks I'm a liar and Dumbledore's an old fool?"

Seamus looked up at him. "Yeah, something like that."

Harry simply shrugged tiredly, continuing to change into his pajamas. He expected this sort of thing, what with the Ministry owning most of the Prophet and all. And really, it was the Wizarding World's leading (and only) mainstream newspaper, so he couldn't blame anyone for believing what it printed. After all, he had only began to doubt the paper during the events of the previous year, where he met one of their most annoying journalists - Rita Skeeter. For a while silence reigned in the dorm, until Seamus spoke up again.

"Look... what did happen that night when... you know, when... with Cedric Diggory and all?"

He sounded nervous and eager at the same time. Dean, who had been bending over his trunk trying to retrieve a slipper, went oddly still and Harry knew he was listening hard. A chill ran down his spine at the mere thought of the events that night, one that he took great pains into trying to shove into the back of his mind.

"Well..." Harry started tiredly, plopping onto his bed and burrowing under the covers, knowing it was going to be a long story, "We...Cedric and I... had just reached the end of the maze...we decided to grab the Cup together. United Hogwarts Champions and all that. The Cup turned out to be a Portkey, but we didn't land...at the start like we were probably supposed to...Barty Crouch Jr, the one who was using Polyjuice to pretend to be Mad-Eye Moody, had tampered with it, just like he had done with the Goblet of Fire. Turns out he was right, I was in the Triwizard Tournament because someone wanted me dead, I just didn't know it was him."

He paused for a moment, sighing at the onslaught of emotions being dredged up from the events that happened that night. Dean had used this pause to quickly retrieve his slipper before sitting down. Seamus and Dean then leaned over closer, eyes as wide as saucers. Even Neville, who had heard most of what had happened during the early part of the holidays, was curious about how much Harry would say.

"We landed in a Graveyard in Little Hangleton, where Voldemort- alright, alright, how's Lord Snakeface for you guys? Better? Okay. Where Lord Snakeface's dad was buried. We were met by Peter Pettigrew- yes, yes he's alive and at large, but that's an explanation for another day, holding a deformed baby in a bundle of robes. A-and as they got closer...my scar began to hurt again...and I knew...and I heard his voice S-say..."

Harry had to stop and take a deep breath, this was the part that he still had nightmares about...the voice...the light...Cedric lying on the...

"Kill the spare. A-and, then I heard Pettigrew lift his wand and say the words to the killing curse...it hit...it hit Cedric...and he fell...and his eyes were still open and his face was stuck in a surprised expression..."

His shoulders began to shake, and he took another deep breath.

"They used my surprise against me and bound me to Lord Snakeface's father's headstone. A cauldron, already bubbling, was brought to my attention when that snake came along and...the deformed baby turned out to be none other than Lord Snakeface himself, who's frightening even as a baby...and they were doing some sort of ritual with the bones of his father and the flesh of the servant...and the blood of the enemy, forcibly taken...and the baby was plopped into the cauldron and out rose Lord Snakeface decked in black robes..."

This time, Seamus stopped him.

"This defiantly isn't what the Prophet said, but I can tell you're not lying. You've never been this bad before. I'm...sorry for asking." Seamus whispered, his head bowed, not wanting to look at Harry, who was shaking rather badly from taking about it.

Harry knew it was better than when he had relayed the story before, but it still shook him. He hated feeling like this, as showing weakness at the Dursley's usually did not bode well for him. Some Chosen One he managed to be. A pressure on his shoulder had the emerald eyed teen looking up again, to see Neville with a hand on his shoulder and a knowing smile. With a strained smile and a nod signaling that he was going to be okay, Harry grasped the hand one his shoulder and squeezed it. At that moment, Ron walked into the dorm, finished with his prefect duties. He was about to greet them before taking note of the somber mood and his eyes landed on Harry, who although was not shaking anymore had tear streaks imprinted on his already naturally pale face.

"What happened here?" he asked confusedly.

"They wanted to know what happened...that night." Harry whispered out tiredly, "But it's alright, it's done with. Probably best if we all got some sleep."

Some mumbles of agreement emanated from the beds of Dean and Seamus, and Neville sounded his own grunt of exhaustion. With a shrug Ron began to get ready for bed himself, putting his things away in his trunk. Silence stretched between them, with only the sound of Ron bustling around the room to even tell them that no, they hadn't gone suddenly deaf. Harry laid with his head lolled to the side, too tired to right it. The events of the day and the conversation moments ago had completely drained him of his energy.

With his lids becoming too heavy to keep up anymore, Harry drifted to sleep.

Ron looked at his best friend's sleeping face, once again wondering why he always seemed more peaceful this way than even with friends. A sigh escaped his lips as he pulled the bed curtains shut for Harry before heading to bed himself.

"Why would the Prophet tell a different story?" Seamus whispered into the dark of the night.

"Because by lying to the people, they can rally the population against anyone they don't like, whether they're right or wrong. Common domestic war tactic." Ron replied almost mechanically.

Seamus stared at him like he had just grown two heads.

"Mate, no offense, but I didn't think something like that could ever come out of your mouth. Merlin, I didn't think you knew what the word 'domestic' meant."

A round of quiet chuckles echoed the room.

"I guess knowing...what's coming soon made me grow up a little." Ron answered with a sigh.

That made Seamus solemn again.

"So he really is back?" he whispered out, fear laced in his voice.

"Yeah," came the answer, from Neville this time, "he's back, and the Ministry doesn't want to admit it. If the can keep the image of peace up, there won't be fear or unrest. If there's no unrest, there's no one to march to their doors and demand them to DO SOMETHING. They don't want to look at the problem because they're afraid that they'll be hilariously outclassed just like they had the last time. Plus, it's not a secret that "ex"-Death Eaters are a large part of Ministry Faculty."

Dean whistled lowly.

"Looks like everything's changing around here. Harry's breaking down, Ron's grown a brain, and I guess you grew a spine, Neville." Dean said jokingly, trying to diffuse the palpable tension in the room.

It worked, and soon the boys were stifling their peals of laughter, though it wouldn't have mattered. Their fifth, sleeping, companion wasn't going to wake up even if a bomb blew off. And indeed, even with the silencing spells only placed so nobody OUTSIDE could here them, the boy slumbered through what became loud, guffawing laughter from the other four occupants of the dorm.

Soon enough however the laughter died down, and the boys decided it would be best to get some sleep. So they said their "goodnight"s and settled down into beds, pulling the curtains tight and the worries of tomorrow still raw in their minds.

Chapter Text

Alternia Interlude - Sollux Captor

Sollux Captor was a lot of things. He was a hacker, a programmer, and a wicked Psionic. He could beat games within hours, though he preferred to take his time and enjoy the mechanics than rush through, and could program defenses to be, in his opinion, impenetrable. The one thing he wasn't too good at, however, was social interaction.

A buzzer went off in his headset, signaling that someone had just rang his door in the communal hive stem that he lived in. The mustard blooded troll sighed as he finished yet another level on his grubconsole, pausing and exiting the game. Red and blue eyes swiveled to the monitoring system he had hooked up around the place, which immediately widened in surprise as they took in the image in front of them. Sollux bolted out from his chair and wrenched open the door, revealing a bubbly Feferi Peixes.

"FF!" was Sollux's greeting, "What are you doiing here?"

Again, he wasn't the best at polite social interaction, but who could blame him? If wasn't everyday that the Heiress of the entire planet paid you a visit. AA didn't mind his lack of social grace, as that kind of thing really didn't matter on digs or ruin explorations. Then again, AA wasn't the one, as close as they were, that made his blood pusher triple in speed whenever he saw her. That was reserved for the troll standing patiently in front of him, probably awaiting for him to let her in.

"Can't a troll visit )(er friend once in a w)(ile?" came the happy rhetorical question, her smile making his blood pusher race a little.

"Uh, 2ure, whatever." he mumbled, stepping aside to let the seadwelling troll in.

Though, speaking of which, he hadn't seen the maroon blooded troll in a while. Normally he would be worried, but considering that this was AA he was talking about, there really was nothing to worry about. The girl could handle herself out in the wild better than he ever could. He preferred his Apiculture Networks, his headphones, and his computer over spelunking in a corpse-filled cave any day. AA's morbidly excitable attitude made it bearable, however.

Back to the present, Sollux watched as FF made herself comfortable on one of his spinning chairs, sitting atop it daintily. She looked so out of place inside his hive, but he couldn't quite say that to her lest it angered her. Angering the Heir to her Imperial Condescension was never a good move to make, after all.

"2o what briing2 you here, FF?" The psionic asked, getting to the point, "Ii2 ED 2tiill on that planet he'2 2tudyiing?"

He wasn't sure how to make of Ampora, as the violet blooded seadweller had only recently changed his overly hostile nature towards landdwellers and those of a lower blood caste than him. It definitely stemmed from him discovering the ancient transportalizer to another planet, and KK had said something about an alien landdweller coming out of it. Sollux could have found out more, but he really didn't care about what the guy was doing, as long as the Lusus hunting troll wasn't terrorizing his neighborhood. The guy had even paid for a remote defense system for his hive, which had allowed Sollux to buy the very game that he had been playing before FF arrived.

"Yep, still out t)(ere exploring t)(e new planet." she replied with a sigh, ")(e's sent over some pictures but )(e's sometimes away from Trollian for days. I know )(e's not doing it on porpoise... I guess I'm just starting to miss my Moirail..."

That was another thing that changed around the time of ED's sudden departure. For the longest time, the seadwelling troll tried to get into the heiress's flushed quadrant to no avail, and now he's dropped it altogether as if it never happened. Maybe Sollux had a chance with the fuchsia blooded troll after all. Making up his mind, he sat down on the chair next to hers and papped her face. Perhaps it would be best to make the most out of the situation he was presented.

FF smiled at him, her laughter bubbly like the sea.

Eridan blearily awoke to the comforting feel of sopor around him, with an underlying feeling of wrongness surrounding him. Five fingers (five? Since when did he have five fingers?) brushed against the back of his neck, and found no gills or fins. Going to the top of his head, he felt for his horns and came up with nothing. With a start he burst from the recupracoon, pushing down his panic as he tried to rationalize the situation.

It was only after a few seconds of nigh-hyperventilating that the memories of the day before came flooding back to him. Severus had made him a potion that would pass him for a human, which would last a week before he was to be given another dose. He had been sorted into the blue house called 'Ravenclaw', the house he was Lord of, the house that also contained his friend Luna.

With a slight groan he lifted himself out of the recupracoon, shaking off some of the sopor that stubbornly clung to his form. Violet eyes wandered to the window, which was dark. Sunrise had not yet begun, which meant that most of the inhabitants of the castle would still be asleep. It seemed that he was still not used to switching from a nocturnal sleeping schedule as of yet. Not that it mattered, he didn't sleep much anyway. After showering and and putting on his Hogwarts uniform (something that still stirred excitement from within him), Eridan decided that it would be best to explore the vicinity before the rest of the castle had a chance to wake. Padding down the halls with the silence of a natural predator, he set off to search for the silvery ram horns that he was almost certain he got a fleeting glimpse of at the Welcoming Feast.

Eridan's searching pointed him downwards, into the dungeons. The dark, damp area made him feel as if he were exploring an underground crypt back on Alternia, as stone walls of this pattern seemed to be universal to such places. A couple of portraits, who appeared to be blinking the sleep from their eyes, protested at the sight of a third year Ravenclaw wandering so close to Slytherin territory. The disguised troll ignored them as his eyes scoured the place for even a glimpse of a silvery ghost.

His thoughts turned to the supposed 'Grey Lady' that Robert Hilliard had mentioned. He wondered what sort of title that was supposed to be. All ghosts were silvery and translucent, and the troll had noted quite a few females in the mix. Technically, 'the Grey Lady' could refer to any one of the maiden ghosts lurking about the castle. So what made this one so special, and why was she the patron ghost of house Ravenclaw?

"Are you lost, little Raven?" came a feminine voice from the inside of the wall.

The troll stopped in his tracks and turned to the area that was now excreting amusement and curiosity. Out from the wall floated the ghost of a woman, a human woman to Eridan's disappointment, who had waist length hair and a proud expression that could rival a highblood's. What was the human phrase again? Speak of the devil?

"No, I am simply lookin for a friend. Havve you seen her?" he replied, looking up at where she was floating, "She's around my age, wwith ram horns."

A look of surprise crossed the Grey Lady's face.

"You know of the Demon Ghost of Hogwarts?" she asked with surprise and no little awe coloring her tone, "No student has ever asked about her before."

Demon Ghost? Judging by the reverence also excreted from the ghost at the mention of her title, Megido was a pretty important figure amongst the dead of Hogwarts. Talk to the ghosts, indeed.

"Do you knoww wwhere she is?" Eridan pressed, her words solidifying his suspicions.

"She comes and goes as she pleases, she who is kind and yet bends the dead to her every whim if she wanted to." the Grey Lady replied rather unhelpfully.

It seemed that her influence reached even here, to Earth. How fascinating. He would have to ask her about the extent of her ghost abilities when he found her. The Grey Lady had confirmed that she was here, at least.

"I'm not lookin for a riddle." the disguised troll ground out, "I'm lookin for this 'Demon Ghost' you speak of."

"Ask and y0u shall receive!" came a rather familiar voice from behind him.

Eridan spun around on his heel only to to find Megido's smiling, translucent face only inches from his own. It took almost all of his self restraint not to react to her strange shenanigans, and he schooled his expression into one of boredom.

Aradia Megido was the same as ever, albeit translucent. Wild black hair floated around her as if pushed by invisible waves, just reaching her long grey skirt, a contrast to her normal candy corn colored spiral ram horns, now a light silver. Maroon eyes gazed mischievously at him, the same color as the 'Aries' insignia on her black shirt. The sight of another troll made him feel a lot less homesick, and a smile rose to his face unbidden.

"Hello Ara. Looks like I'm not the only troll at Hogwwarts, huh?" was his wry greeting, his lips curled into his regular smirk.

"N0pe! Technically I was here first! But n0w I've g0t y0u t0 share the w0nders 0f Earth with! Isn't H0gwarts just s0 interesting?" came her reply.

"You…you two know each other?"

Megido's smile grew even wider, red lips stretching across her face as she turned to the confused form of the Grey Lady, who was noticeably creeped out by the ghost troll's reaction. Truth be told, even most trolls stayed clear of her excitement, as her smile usually came with some morbid news. Sweeps of friendship with the rustblood had made Eridan desensitized to her apparent creepiness, though the sudden return of it after everything that happened actually made him internally welcome it. Eridan, for one, was no stranger to the macabre side of things, and had gone on expeditions with her when Captor was busy playing his grubgames.

"0h yes!" came Megido's cheerful reply in perfect Earth English, surprising Eridan in her fluency, though there was a hint of what could only be her Alternian accent, "Eridan and I have been g00d friends f0r a really l0ng time!"

"Wwell I'm glad you saww it that wway." he remarked in Alternian, "Howw do you knoww English so wwell?"

"When y0u stay in a castle full 0f alien gh0sts f0r s0 l0ng, y0u're b0und t0 pick up s0mething!" was her excited reply.

"Wwell, it seems wwe havve some catching up to do." Eridan replied, switching back to human English before the Grey Lady could get too suspicious, sitting down cross legged on the cool stone floor, "I'm curious on wwhat you'vve found durin your explorations here, as wwell as howw you got here in the first place."

The Grey Lady seemed to take this as her cue to leave, floating through the opposite wall from the one she came through. Megido, on the other hand, floated down to sit next to him. It reminded Eridan of the time he had accompanied her to the Crypts of Sohdomus, spelunking through the musky stone halls and taking rest breaks after running from some archaic guardian beast.

"F0r a l0wly landdweller, y0u sure seem happy t0 see me!" was the first words out of her mouth, a teasing edge in her tone.

Of course, she was a troll as well. Obviously she would pick up on his emotions as well as he could, if not better. He wasn't always the most empathetic of trolls to begin with.

"You're the first troll I'vve seen since comin here." Eridan answered, knowing she would hear the words left unsaid, "Howw are you translucent?" he continued, launching into the first of his plethora of questions, "Howw did you find Hogwwarts in the first place? Does your control ovver ghosts really reach all the wway here?"

Megido's bleating laughter rang through the empty halls. Eridan could sense extreme amusement coming from her as she shook her head, black locks still floating about her wildly. She probably sensed his excitement and his need to know, judging by the fact that Megido smiled wider as she regarded him. With an excited gleam in her eye, Aradia Megido began to explain the nuances of astral projection to the violet seadweller, who hung onto her every word. The two of them exchanged their experiences and tales of Earth until the sun rose and the sound of voices alerted them that it was breakfast time.

"Care to join me in the Great Hall?" Eridan offered, picking himself up from the stone floor and turning to face the rust blood, and was met with bleating laughter.

"Why 0f c0urse, Mister Amp0ra!"

GALLONS OF GALLEONS!

Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings?

Like to earn a little extra gold?

Contact Fred and George Weasley,

Gryffindor common room,

For simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs

(WE REGRET THAT ALL WORK IS UNDERTAKEN AT APPLICANT'S OWN RISK)

This was the sign pinned to the Gryffindor Common Room notice board, and for some reason it lifted Harry's spirits. The depressing feeling that had clung to him from the events of the night previous alleviated at the sight of the Twin's antics. His lips quirked up wryly as he scanned the sign again. So they were trying to hire guinea pigs for their inventions now? He supposed that meant that the two of them were putting the money he had given them to good use if they were already at the testing stage for some of their goods.

His mirth, however, was not shared with Hermione. Harry could practically feel the rage radiating off of her form, though he lacked the empathetical horns that Eridan had. When he turned around to look at her, he decided that for Hermione, it wasn't that difficult to tell when she was angry or not. Her brown hair was bushier than usual, and her face was screwed up into an indignant expression.

"They are at the limit!" she muttered grimly.

She reached out to tear down the sign only to be stopped by none other than Ron, who was reading the piece of parchment with mild interest.

"Huh, they work pretty fast." mumbled the red haired teen with curiosity, "I wonder when they put that up?"

"Ron!" Hermione practically screeched, "This is serious! Students could get hurt from this kind of thing! As prefects, we have the responsibility to put a stop to it!"

"Nothing in the rules say that they can't post something like this, Hermione." Ron pointed out, "But I'll talk to Fred and George about writing up contracts for every tester just in case something goes wrong."

"That's...very mature of you, Ron." Hermione mumbled in surprise, "Thank you."

"No problem." was a nonchalant reply, "Now can we please get out of here? I think my breakfast is calling my name!"

Chuckles rang out from around the room at Ron's proclamation, and soon the Golden Trio could be found making their way down the stairs of the Gryffindor Tower, headed for the Great Hall. Along the way they crossed paths with some fourth years Ravenclaws (they must be Luna's classmates, but Luna was not present with them, as usual), who huddled together like penguins at the sight of him.

"You'd think I'm a terrorist of something..." Harry muttered lowly so only his friends could hear, "Should I start throwing curses around?"

He was starting to think that he should pull the same thing as he did with his second year, and employ the twins to laud him around as the next Dark Lord for shits and giggles (as Eridan had said once). It would be funny to watch, and would at least diffuse the tension he felt coming from nearly everyone at the school.

Also it would probably make the pink clad toad constipated, which was a major plus.

"Well, to be honest, the Prophet can be convincing. Even Lavender believes it." Hermione replied morosely, snapping Harry from his musings.

"Can you blame them?" added Ron with a shrug, "The Prophet's been our news source for as long as we can remember. To think they'd lie would shatter the foundation that we've built our beliefs on."

"Sometimes I forget that..." mumbled Hermione, "I suppose it's different for people who've lived their entire lives in the Wizarding World. But it does make sense, don't you remember what Dumbledore said at the end-of-term feast last year?"

"Uuuuh..." Harry said, trying his hardest to remember, "Something about unity in dark times, I think."

"Close." Hermione replied with a quirk of her lips, "I was referring more to... Lord Noseless? Dumbledore had said 'His gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust-"

"Get to the point, Hermione." Ron grumbled, "Say it in words us ignorant plebeians can understand, please."

"The point," Hermione relinquished with a sigh, "is that this sort of thing is exactly what Dumbledore was talking about. You-Know-Who's only been back two months, the Ministry covering up his return, and we've started fighting among ourselves. The Sorting Hat's warning yesterday was the same. Stand together, be united, don't let this divide us."

"You mean, 'United we stand, divided we fall'?" asked Harry, "I hate to break it to you, but everyone else doesn't seem to be taking it to heart."

This last part was directed towards the Ravenclaws, who looked away in either fear or shame. Even so, the trio followed the Ravenclaws, making the group in front of them highly uncomfortable, into the Great Hall. In fact, the majority of the students present at the Great Hall appeared to be on guard as soon as the Trio had entered. Harry felt a little bad as his friends were damned by association. Just by being his friends had them pinned as bad eggs, which was ridiculous, they were not the one 'who lied' (and seriously, any title they could have done and they went with the 'Boy Who Lied'? Talk about tacky).

Harry's attention, however, had diverted from the topic at hand as soon as he entered. His eyes scanned the Head Table, noting the positions of the teachers. Professor Grubbly-Plank was chatting to Professor Sinistra, and Hagrid was once again conspicuous only by his absence. Then again, most of the professors were also missing, as it was too early in the morning for them to have arrived yet.

Looking upwards, he noted that the enchanted ceiling depicted a grey and gloomy morn, which was almost symbolic of the oncoming storm.

"Hey guys."

A voice nearby, which belonged to Neville, shook Harry out of his stupor. With the smiling Gryffindor was Ginny, who took her seat next to Hermione. Out of the corner of his eye Harry noticed Dean and Seamus sitting near the end of the table, the 'half and half' wizard seemingly in deep contemplation. Looking around, however, he noticed that the twins, Luna, and their resident murder happy alien were missing from the picture. Just as he was thinking of this, Luna wandered into the Great Hall as if summoned by his thoughts, making her way to the Gryffindor table and sitting next to Ginny with a faraway look and a flighty wave.

"Hi Neville, Ginny, Luna." greeted the Boy Who Lived, "Have you seen Eridan yet? He's usually an early riser."

This caused a few expressions of mild alarm amongst the members of the Legacy, which confused the few nosey students that were listening in. Ron, particularly, was glancing around the Great Hall wildly.

"He's not here yet?" the red haired boy asked, "You don't think he's gone off and already... you know... offed someone?" the last part was said in a whisper, but his voiced concern was shared by most of the group.

"Do mine ears deceive me?" came a sing song voice, which most definitely belonged to Fred, who sandwiched Harry in between him and George, "Is our resident extraterrestrial missing from the group?"

After a quick glance at the Ravenclaw table answered the question that yes, Eridan was indeed missing. A wave of apprehension ran down the backs of the Legacy like the chill of a dementor. Luna, however, was completely unperturbed.

"I saw him talking to a ghost in the Tower." she murmured in her usual tone of voice, "He was in such a deep discussion I thought it would have been rude to disrupt him, though his ghost friend did seem to be nice."

At this, Neville looked at Luna and mouthed 'ghost friend?', and the blond haired girl cast her faraway gaze toward the entrance of the Great Hall, where the ghosts were congregating and whispering excitedly to one another whilst staring at something in the hallway. This odd behavior was garnering some odd looks from both student and staff alike, many craning to see what the ghosts were so worked up about.

There, walking and talking animatedly about something (hopefully nothing murderous) was Eridan, and floating next to him was what could only be described as a translucent troll. If Harry knew any better he would have called her a ghost, but unlike the other ghosts, who were bowing almost reverently to the girl-troll, she was not silver (barring the spiral horns). Perhaps troll ghosts differed from human ghosts? Now that was an interesting thought.

"Hey Eridan!" The Boy Who Lived greeted, trying not to stare at the floating ghost troll that took a seat next to the violet blooded third year, "Who's your friend?"

This was apparently the right thing to say, because Eridan's grin grew wide. Harry could almost imagine the sharp teeth that truly lined his mouth, and those slitted violet eyes. The look on the ghost troll was more frightening, however, bordering on an excited insanity that he didn't think a human face could achieve, especially with those teeth.

"This is Aradia Megido." the troll in disguise answered simply, "A good friend a mine."

It wasn't a long shot to derive what friend meant. Harry had wondered if the little alien was getting homesick, but it seemed that now he had a fellow troll to collaborate (and possibly plot murder) with. Aradia, for her part, gave an excited wave, to which only Luna replied with equal enthusiasm. The rest of the Legacy returned smaller, more nervous waves.

Well, this was going to be interesting.

Thankfully, breakfast passed without too much incident. Angelina Johnson had marched up to him and the twins the tell them the news. She had been made Quidditch Captain and since Oliver Wood had gone on to greener pastures, they would need another Keeper. As for the rest of the team. They were required to show up for the tryouts, and Harry and the twins had saluted their new Captain in a mock military fashion. Rolling her eyes, Angelina marched off, but not without glancing at Eridan and Aradia, who were eyeing her curiously.

It seemed that the two trolls were going to stick together for the foreseen future (not that his Divination was any good, all Trelawney had taught him to do was pretend to predict disasters), and Harry wasn't sure what to think about it. On one hand, hopefully this provided enough of a distraction for the seadwelling troll, away from potentially killing any students or faculty with his overpowered alien rifle. One the other, that crazy look Aradia had on her face couldn't possibly bode well.

McGonagall had briefly stopped by the table to hand out schedules, greeting the students cordially before her eyebrows shot up at the new addition to the group. Again, the ghost troll greeted her with an excited smile and a wave. However, the professor was less perturbed. The woman had dealt with the Marauders, the creepily smiling alien was nothing compared to the madness they had wrought upon the school.

A quick glance at the schedule had Ron groaning, while Eridan looked at his schedule appraisingly.

"Look at today!" muttered Ron, "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts... that's Binns, Snape, Trelawney, and that Umbridge woman all in one day! Bloody hell!"

To be honest, as much as he didn't like Binns, Snape, and Trelawney, all three of them were devils that he knew. Binns was boring, yes, but he had learned through practice to ignore the droning voice of the History of Magic professor. The subject could be rehashed with a glance through the textbook, and Harry spent most of the classtime getting other homework done. With the Divinations professor, all he had to do was predict his horrible demise and he was set. And Snape? Snape was a hardass, but at least the hated Potions professor was on his side.

Umbridge was going to be the problem. His Potter danger sense tingled whenever she was around, and plus the fiasco at the Ministry certainly didn't win her any points in his book. Somehow she had gotten wind of Sirius coming back and instead of setting up a trial, she immediately sent for a score of dementors to off his godfather. Thankfully, the toad woman hadn't seen Eridan in his true form (bugger was fast, a simple violet blur in the Ministry) so hopefully she wouldn't antagonize the troll.

"I seem to havve Defense first." pointed out Eridan as if in reply to his thoughts (which wouldn't surprise him in the slightest), drowning his pancakes in syrup.

Well, that blew his hopes out the window. The troll would surely be goaded (since he's pretending to be the bastard son of Sirius) by the cardigan wearing toad at some point during the lesson. After the fiasco in the Ministry and the speech she gave at the Feast, Harry couldn't see the pompous witch being anything less than biased. If it were any other student, she would get away with it.

But this is an alien with murderous tendencies and the skills to back it up. As much as Harry was happy enough with getting rid of the oversized toad, he couldn't very well let the thirteen year old merchild kill as he pleased. This wasn't Alternia. They had different rules.

"Please try not to off anyone. Especially the teacher." Harry replied with a hint of exhaustion.

Most of the Gryffindors laughed at the comment. The members of the Legacy did not. Eridan, for his part, simply replied with a vicious grin that had no place on the face of a third year human (and seeing him as such disturbed Harry somewhat, not that he would admit that to himself).

"I will try." was the only reply, before he was off, trotting down into the hallway that led out into the classrooms, Aradia trailing behind him with a wide eyed grin on her face.

"This isn't going to go well, is it?" groaned Ron, who put his face in his hands.

The rest of the Legacy silently agreed.

It came to Eridan's attention that humans were incredibly nosey and social creatures, evident by the overtures of his housemates to launch into their life story as soon as they sat next to him in class. Half of the things they talked about didn't make sense (which was expected, he still had quite a bit to learn about this planet) and the other half was dreadfully mundane (if you didn't kill anyone, there wasn't much to talk about, was there?). Still, he did his best to be polite and attempted to at least pretend he was listening, which had worked up until the point that they had then asked Eridan about his life story. For the next five minutes, Eridan rehashed the bullshit story the Order had made for him, in monotone. Even so, his tone did not deter his housemates, who seemed to be more interested in him after he had told them he was Sirius's son.

Before anyone could question him more (and get blasted to smithereens), the oversized croakbeast arrived, perching herself behind the teacher's desk at the front of the room. The cardigan she was wearing did not flatter her in any way, and the pink coloring of the clothing made him want to cull her for desecration of the blood of the Empress. The only good thing about this woman is that the students had quietened at her arrival, giving Eridan a brief respite from his rapidly irritating classmates.

"Well, good morning!" she greeted once the whole class had settled down, in a cheap knockoff display of motherly affection.

The tone was there, but that wasn't the emotion she was excreting, the feeling like slime. The emotion he felt from her was contempt, with a hint of smugness and haughtiness. For the students, he could feel confusion, distrust, and offense at being treated like small wrigglers. Even an outsider like him could tell that this wasn't going to be a frolicking-in-the-fields kind of class, despite the false happy voice coming from the human in the front of the room. Some of the students greeted her back in a monotonous tone, their expressions curious but unamused by her unhidden condescension.

"Tut, tut," sounded Professor Umbridge, the falsely sweet smile still plastered upon her face, "That won't do, now, will it?"

Eridan narrowed his eyes in confusion. What was this woman playing at? A familiar feeling rose to the back of his mind as he listened to the croakbeast witch sneer at them with her eyes, the kind that relished in the feeling of Ahab's Crosshairs between his clawed fingers.

"I should like you, please, to reply 'Good morning, Professor Umbridge.'" the Professor continued with a smile that would melt the skin of a Shadowdropper, "One more time, please. Good morning, class!"

"Good morning, Professor Umbridge." the rest of the class replied in monotone.

Eridan clamped his mouth shut, instead directing a venomous glare towards Umbridge, refusing to bow, even metaphorically, to this woman. She turned to him, her simpering smile meeting his snarl. Ah, a flash of irritation, anger at being defied. Now this was a fitting emotion for the woman.

"Mr. Black," she began, her mouth stretching so wide that Eridan began to wonder if this was simply a real croakbeast disguised as a human, "I know that the idea of politeness may be difficult for you, but I expect you to show the utmost respect to your betters while in this school."

Oh, it is on.

"But of course." Eridan replied, baring his teeth to her, "I'll inform you wwhen I meet them."

The intake of breath from his fellow classmates was audible, even to a human's lowered hearing senses. Whether it was Eridan's comment or the classes reaction that triggered it, Umbridge's face briefly changed, showing the emotions she was projecting underneath before the disgustingly sweet smile returned.

"I can see that you've inherited your father's disregard for authority." the pink-clad croakbeast's pitch became slightly higher, and Eridan was sure that she was trying to keep herself from murdering him, "Detention with me next Saturday, Mr. Black, and I do hope you arrive on time."

Well, if she wanted to try and kill him, he wasn't going to complain. He was itching for a fight, and wondered if she could hold her own for at least a few seconds to make this interesting. Though, he could always draw it out himself...

In his mind's eye, Eridan pictured that he was in his true form. Blunt teeth felt sharp, slit eyes thinned in bloodthirst, his horns and fins provided a familiar weight. However, the potion kept it from manifesting in the physical world. But his smile was still vicious and dangerous, his rounded pupils shrank in retribution, and his posture contained enough information to convey the image of a predator ready to pounce.

"But of course." he sneered, echoing his previous statement.

Umbridge did not back down. Instead, her smile widened and Eridan felt... amusement. Anticipation. She had hatched some sort of plan and was now seeing it come to fruition. Narrowed violet eyes regarded the vile creature, rising up to whatever challenge she had set for him. All he needed to do was make sure he didn't physically try to kill her. Eridan was sure he could do it. The human had proved she was easily riled up, after all. It couldn't be that hard to 'behave' for an hour...could it?

"Good, good!" Umbridge simpered out with a clap of her hands, her beady eyes glittering maliciously, "Now we can start the lesson! Books out, wands away, please!"

What followed was what Harry would have probably called 'Ministry propaganda' as tittering witch outlined what was to be expected of the students and the general lesson plan of the year which focused more on the legality of certain spells and what the Ministry's job was in protecting the witches and wizards of the United Kingdom. If this was how humans protected themselves, it was no wonder why Eridan himself was considered violent, powerful, and horribly immoral. However, the emotions rolling off of his fellow classmates told a different story. Alarm, indignation, and anger flooded his senses, mingling with his own.

Soon books were placed in front of them and Eridan was treated to one of the most dull texts he'd ever had the misfortune to read (and coming from a troll with a library that rivaled Hogwarts' own, that was saying something). Groans from every student (including Eridan himself) were bit back, trying not to get in trouble (or in the violet blood's case, more trouble) with the pink-clad croakbeast. Silence enveloped the room, only permeated sporadically by the rustle of paper as a page was fiddled with or turned. The look of derision must have been clear on the small troll-in-disguise's face, as when Umbridge neared his seat she gave him a smug expression of triumph as she told the class in her simpering voice that it was time to answer some questions about the text. Her eyes tracked his movements as Eridan took out a quill, an inkpot, and a roll of parchment. A flick of her wand a second later and white chalk sentences littered the board in neat, loopy handwriting.

The silence alleviated somewhat with the sound of quill tips scratching against the rough parchment. With each passing second, Eridan's frustration grew. He had slogged though boring books before (military history had a tendency to be rather dry at times), but a question on why only the employees of the Ministry should be trusted to cast defensive spells grated heavily on his nerves. In a sense, it echoed what Harry and the other members of the Legacy told him about the way human adults viewed their younger kin.

A hand went up in the air, belonging to one of Eridan's fellow Ravenclaws. Her face was slightly pinched as she sat stiffly in her seat. Moments passed, and Umbridge made no move to acknowledge her presence, as if she didn't exist at all. Still, the third year Ravenclaw did not waver in her quest for answers, so her hand stayed in the air. Minutes ticked by and Eridan had noticed the croakbeast woman briefly cast her eyes to the girl, but then immediately looked away as if she never had.

"Do you make a habit of ignorin your students or somethin?" Eridan sneered out, breaking the silence.

As if on a spring, Umbridge's head snapped toward the violet blooded student, her eyes ablaze with indignation. Ah, how he loved riling people up. Bloodlust was beginning to cloud his judgement, perhaps, for him to relish in something so small, but right now he didn't care. If that's what it took for the pink clad woman to understand that they were not to be treated like tiny wrigglers, then it would be worth it. With almost a constipated expression, Umbridge made her way over to the Ravenclaw girl (who still had her hand up, she had quite a bit of stamina for a human of her age) as soundlessly as a human of her stature could.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" the human croakbeast asked in a sickly sweet tone, though her frustration was evident by a slight strain in her voice.

"Yes, Professor." the girl answered, putting her hand down, "I was wondering why the chapter doesn't say anything about students being allowed to use defensive spells, how are we going to practice them?"

Umbridge's smile, if anything, got even wider and faker than it already was as she asked the Ravenclaw a question in a tone that could only be called thinly veiled sneering.

"And your name is..."

"Carina Tucker, Professor." the girl replied, behaving as though unaffected by the woman.

"Well Miss Tucker," Umbridge began in a breathy voice, speaking to her as if she were addressing a hatchling, "I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

"Wait, so we're not learning any magic?!" a Hufflepuff boy exclaimed distraughtly.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class-" Umbridge began haughtily, but was cut off.

"Isn't that the whole point of this class?" added the Ravenclaw lad sitting next to him, spurred by the fact that others have spoken before him.

"Hand, please!" Umbridge almost shouted, her face rapidly turning the same shade as her cardigan when the mutterings around her turned into full blown cries of defiance from the rest of the third year students.

"Wwhat kind a Defense teacher doesn't teach defense?" Eridan smirked as he put in his own piece of mind, "Are you tryin to make us wweak? Complacent?"

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Mr. Black!" Umbridge growled out, pointing a pudgy finger in Eridan's direction, before quickly composing herself and addressing the class in what was now thinly disguised rage, "You may think that you can do whatever you wish here because of the dismal tutelage of your past Professors, but no longer. The Ministry as appointed me to teach you defense, and such will happen. You will learn about spells in your book, and by knowing enough theory you should be able to cast them under carefully controlled examination conditions. This is not to be argued about. Now sit down, and read your chapters quietly."

The students did just that, and the room fell into silence once more after the screeching of chairs stopped. However, the third years hadn't returned to their books. Instead, they stared at the line figure that had not complied with Umbridge's orders. Eridan stood firm, palms planted on his desk, glaring defiantly at the woman.

"You may wwant us to be meek an useless." he growled out dangerously, fingers twitching, wanting to take Angel's Wrath from its place at the edge of the table and blast the tight smile off of her face, "But I refuse to boww to such incompetence."

The smile, if anything, loosened in strain as she stood in front of his desk. It was at that moment that Eridan realized that he had gotten cocky, played into her hands somehow.

"It thought you might say that, Mr. Black." Umbridge tittered out, "That is why I shall be taking this for the time being."

She raised her hand, Angel's Wrath gripped firmly in her fingers, a victorious smile on her face. Eridan's countenance twisted in anger, both at her for taking it and at himself for being distracted by her for long enough for her to snatch it.

"You will get it back at the end of the lesson." Umbridge simpered, "Now sit down, Mr. Black."

But Eridan wasn't having it.

Perhaps it was because they were in History of Magic, with only the sound of Binns' droning voice, the snores of a few students, and the scratching of quills idly doodling on parchment. Perhaps it was the relatively close proximity between the classrooms. Perhaps it was because Harry had been listening for some thing like this. Whatever the reason, the scream of pure rage and frustration echoed in the hallways, reaching even their classroom. Ron, who had been one of the few snoozing on his desk, was startled awake. Many confused students were already looking towards the door. The members of the Legacy that were present shared a worried look.

The voice that screamed was very familiar, after all.

"Brilliant." Ron mumbled lowly, "First class in and he's already snapped. Do you think we'll get a better replacement?"

Hermione sent a chastising glare at the redhead, but her expression conveyed that she agreed with his sentiment. Up until this point the only time they've heard the young alien scream was when he was about to blast something with that rifle (or wand) of his. However, the scream had not been accompanied by the high keening cry of the blindingly white beam, so Harry hoped that no one had actually died yet (though a part of him, awoken by Eridan's flippant view on life, wished that the small troll had killed Umbridge off).

"You'd think for a brilliant military tactician, he'd know not to get on her bad side." Neville muttered, packing up his things as the class was just about over anyway.

"Mate, he's still thirteen." Ron pointed out, "Tactics are all well and good until you're face to face with the most annoying thing on the planet. I barely hold my cool in front of Malfoy, never mind whatever Umbridge just did."

The chiming of the bell signaled the official end to the period and the students all trickled out of the classroom, Binns barely noticing his departure as he continued about some incident in the Third Goblin War. The ghost didn't even notice as he droned on, mumbling about how the wizards nearly lost due to a crippling oversight. You'd think by then that wizards would have had the brains not to mess with the small money loving buggers, but apparently not. Even worse, if goblins had dealings with Alternian trolls...

Harry was broken from his musings as the level of volume in the great stairwell rose considerably. As quickly as he could, the green eyed teen followed the Legacy up the stairs to see what the bloody hell was was going on. The commotion seemed to be getting louder the closer they got to the source, and soon they could see why.

Eridan Ampora, in his short, human guised glory, had Umbridge in a headlock. With the size of the troll in comparison to the Defense professor taken into account, the sight was downright hilarious. Apparently the third year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs thought as much, considering most were doubled over in laughter while other expressions ranged from worried to awe.

A sigh escaped Harry as the pounding of footsteps signaled the arrival of the Professors.

"Eridan, we talked about this!" came the exasperated groan from the Boy Who Lived.

He was rewarded with what could only be called a sneering pout.

"Wwell she started it!"

Chapter Text

Alternia Interlude - Aradia Megido

It wasn't a very well-known place, especially not deep within the vast wasteland of which it resided in. Shadow-droppers tended to roam the area around it, but even they dared not go near these ruins. The ruins of a once vast castle.

There were no records in the codex storages of its name, nor that there was a castle in this place at all. As if it suddenly appeared here, and here it stayed until it was eventually worn down to its very foundations. Or perhaps it arrived like this, already reduced to shattered stones. But by looking at the layout, it must have had wondrous towers, a deep labyrinth basement beneath damp dungeons, and a large Great Hall.

She had found it in the summer of her fifth sweep, between seasons of flarping. An adventurous jaunt through the wasteland hunting for bones, searching for slabs, and finding instead this goldmine of wonder. For nights and nights she would return here, to try and decode the language sometimes carved into the stone. The letters were so odd, so ancient - perhaps alien. They appeared to read from left to right instead of Alternian's right to left.

On the seventh day, the ruins were no longer empty.

There was a figure.

Tall, dressed all in black with a cloak darker than the void where the Horrorterrors dwelt. They towered over her so much that she didn't even recall what kind of horns they had, or the symbol that identified them. There was nothing but the dark cloak and a hood that hid the face of the person wearing it.

And yet… the aura coming from them was neither malicious nor off-putting. It was kind. They were not a ghost, and yet as Aradia reached out with her mind to tentatively tap at his essence (which was what she did when conversing or controlling the shades left by the beyond) the ram-horned troll felt something connect. Amusement came from the tall stranger, who stood in the midst of her surprise and the ruins around them.

"Wh0 are y0u?"

The figure turned around, a smile on their face. What she saw beneath the hood made her gasp. Peachy pale skin, soft, without the protection of a chitinous layer. Nothing that she'd ever seen before.

"I am a Seeker."

Alternian. Not perfect, but very close for a being that was definitely not troll. She grinned wide in excitement. At the implications this Seeker brought. Was that their name? Was Seeker their name as well? It fit the pattern, certainly.

"What was this place? Bef0re it became ruins?"

The Seeker's face never faltered, even against her wide, sharp toothed grinning maw. It was refreshing, in a way, to not sense fear for once when she got this excited. There was something calming about them, like they belonged to this old place, in a way untouched by Time itself.

"It was called 'Hogwarts', little Maid of Time. Would you like me to show you how to experience what once was?"

A hand with neither flesh nor muscle was reached out to her. Only bone, like one of her archeological finds, and yet it still moved. Curiously, it had an extra digit at the end. Cautiously she reached out towards destiny.

"What is y0ur name?"

As they both were enveloped in light, she heard the Seeker speak.

"My…

name…

is…"

"Harry, I feel like 'detention' for humans isn't wwhat it is on Alternia."

The scar-headed teen looked to the third year as they sat for lunch, both Luna and Eridan having migrated to the Gryffindor table for the time being. News of a Ravenclaw third year having put the new DADA teacher in a headlock on her first class had already circulated, and now the transfer student had become the center of attention. It seemed to alleviate a bit of the rumors caused by the Daily Prophet, so that was good at least.

"What's detention like on Alternia? Do you lot even have schools over there?" Harry asked, his eyes flickering over to the Head Table where Umbridge was noticeably absent.

Apparently a little thirteen year old had enough strength to cut off her air supply for a good few seconds (not that anyone knew that Eridan was anything other than human) so she was recuperating at the Hospital Wing. Colin Creevey even managed to get a picture of the incident before Eridan was made to let go of the pink toad and had told Harry with sparkling eyes that he would let the fifth year know when it was developed. He would pay good coin to see that again in the wonderous motion of a wizarding photograph.

"You get locked in a lone room wwith no food or wwater for sevveral days. Dependin on the length it could either be more cruel or kinder than cullin." Eridan explained while slathering his toast with fruit jam.

The ghost troll beside him nodded in agreement as she floated between the sea troll and Luna, who didn't seem to mind one bit. At this point Harry was sure that she was going to be a permanent addition to the group - his Potter senses told him so and they haven't been wrong yet. And it wasn't a bad thing per say, since her presence seemed to at least quell Eridan's bloodlust a bit by alleviating his homesickness (he didn't kill Umbridge, which was a miracle from whatever higher power ruled over this plane of existence).

He just wished the ghost troll wouldn't give him that creepy grin all the time whenever she looked at him.

"A'kain ad'tnfn fil' a' ih ou'." Ron helpfully said through his mouthful of sandwich, some particles spewing from his mouth and causing the people sitting around him to scoot away slightly.

"I have n0 idea what y0u just said!" Came Aradia's jovial statement.

A large lump went down the redhead's throat.

"That's the kind of detention Filch wants to give out." Was the cleared-up message, with all of the sounds unblocked of bread, ham, cheese, tomatoes, and lettuce, "He's even still got the manacles in his office. Keeps begging Dumbledore to let him use them."

"Wwell wwhy can't he?" Was the serious question from the maniacal child next to Harry.

"Because chaining people up in iron manacles and hanging them in a dungeon is wrong!" Hermione explained in exasperation.

Both trolls looked at each other, and then at Hermione quizzically. It seems that it wasn't just Eridan who held onto those Alternian values so tightly. Then again, it wasn't like it was adults torturing children as it was children torturing and killing each other.

"But then h0w w0uld y0u get inf0rmati0n fr0m them then?" Came Aradia's question, which was closely followed by, "Howw are ya gonna interrogate someone if they're not bound an hung up?"

The resounding facepalms from the members of the Legacy did more than enough to convey their feelings on the matter. Of course they would be the kind of people to think tying people up and interrogating them was a normal, everyday thing.

"How would you feel if someone put you in manacles and hung you up for questioning?" Ginny asked whilst jabbing at her sausage.

"I w0uld call up s0me gh0sts!" Aradia stated cheerfully with that creepy sharp grin of hers.

"I wwould shimmy out an blast them wwith Ahab's Crosshairs." Was Eridan's succinct response.

Lunch passed relatively peacefully after that, and the Legacy once more scattered to attend their classes. After the first major disappointment that was Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry hoped the rest of the classes could salvage whatever disappointment the small murderous troll was no doubt harboring (another ocean pun… Eridan was rubbing off on him). If anything, at least Potions would be fun for the troll - he and Snape got along like a house on fire and Harry would have been more worried about it if it weren't for the fact that this somehow meant that Snape was mildly more reasonable to the Legacy as a result.

Then again, Snape had made them explain to him what exactly the little disguised alien had done before class started, and was rubbing his temples and muttering under his breath for the entire time that the class was to brew a Draught of Peace. Snape was so in his mind that he rarely even snapped at them through the brewing process - though he gave them hell after Harry had forgot the hellebore, Ron cooked up an apparent soup of vomit inducing odor, and Neville, poor Neville, had somehow gotten the potion to the consistency of cement.

After potions class, Harry had noted that Snape put Neville's phial away in a separate container. What was he going to do with it?

Ron, Harry, and Neville left the lunch table last after watching the youngest member of their group patter off with Luna and Aradia, who had struck up a conversation (something regarding the Nargles and Wrackspurts that the ghost troll had become interested in to a frightening degree). The twins had slunk off to do some extra work on their business venture (with Ron somehow getting them to contact Percy on how to write up a proper contract to cover their asses). Ginny had to get a head start for her own lesson in potions since the last thing she needed was a Snape with a troll-induced headache breathing down her neck.

And Hermione… had gone to the kitchens to interview the House Elves for SPEW. Yeah, she's still not letting that go. It would only be a matter of time before the badges came out again.

Well… time to predict more disasters for Trelawey, he guessed.

The other classes that Eridan attended were far more interesting and worth his time. Professor McGonagall taught her classes with the same poise and fluidity that she had tutored him over the summer. Which meant that while strict, all of the material was at least practical and comprehensible. A stark contrast to that horrendous croakbeast. Eridan was especially fascinated by the idea of turning one thing into something else, between living and nonliving. This was what he thought of when the term 'magic' came to mind.

He could also say the same about Charms. Professor Flitwick was short but very energetic in teaching his subject. Eridan had coughed out some things in Alternian just to see if the diminutive professor would notice. His fellow classmates probably thought he came down with some kind of sickness.

Flitwick, however, had turned around with thinly veiled alarm. His eyes told him all that the fish troll needed to know - this person did indeed understand what he was saying, or at least comprehended that what was uttered was a language. He was not surprised when he was asked to stay back a bit after class, and was then thrown under a barrage of questions about how he knew Gobbledegook. At this, Eridan pondered how to reply to the professor, considering the fact that Flitwick was his Head of House. If there was any issue, Flitwick would be the first to sniff it out.

"You can say it's my first language." Was his half-truth answer, a grin coming to his way that was indeed more troll than human (or maybe more goblin in this case?).

This seemed to be enough for Flitwick, who obviously wanted to know more but wasn't going to press the new student on his first day of classes. Instead Eridan was asked to see him in his office some time if he wanted to divulge more (perhaps the man was just a bit 'homesick' as the humans said, since he didn't see anyone else here remotely goblin-like).

The small troll in disguise pondered this invitation on the way to dinner, where he saw that Luna was already in deep conversation with Aradia… about the pros and cons of using ghosts to locate crumple-horned snorkacks. He watched as Hermione made a bit of a scowl a few times when she listened in, attacking her poor potatoes with sharp jabs.

"Wwhat happened wwith Herm?" Eridan whispered to Harry as he sniffed out some of the sweeter dinner dishes before finally deciding on some kind of chicken with some kind of golden fruit glaze.

"She went to the kitchens since Defense was cancelled and we had a free period and got scolded by the House elves for insulting them." Harry murmured back, serving himself a good heap of Shepard's pie.

"Howw did she insult them? I thought she wwas tryin to help givve them freedoms from their oppressivve ovverlords." The small troll asked in confusion, taking a bite and furrowing his eyebrows. It wasn't… horrible. At least it was kind of sweet.

Harry leaned over so that Hermoine couldn't overhear him. Not that he needed to, it looked like she was grumbling something to Luna. Probably chastising her for convincing Aradia her 'imaginary creatures' were real.

"Apparently they didn't enjoy her trying to get them wages, which is apparently a blow to their pride as house elves. That and they basically told her that leaving clothes out to free them was very dangerous." The black haired teen began to explain between bites of his dinner, "And a bunch of other stuff that Hermione thought would be giving them equal rights, but they saw as her thinking they're not good enough at their jobs and therefore needed things like 'compensation' and 'days off'. Apparently Dobby—I told you about Dobby right? Okay yeah—Dobby is apparently an exception to the general consensus of house elves and should not be the example of which to judge other members of his species."

"Made a right fit on the way here." Ron murmured from his place on the table, "In my opinion it's a good thing - those badges were awful and the acronym was, too. SPEW! Imagine the things people could say! Sounds like someone puking slugs out. And I would know!"

They all looked to see if Hermione was listening in, but she was currently berating Luna for talking about the crumple-horned snorkacks. Aradia then said something with a smile, causing her to pale and rush over to Eridan.

"Eridan! Do you know what a 'crumple-horned snorkack' is?!" Was her sudden accusation, to which the disguised troll blinked at with his own confusion.

"'Course I do. They're a common lusus to ultramarine blooded trolls. Vvery large. Generally docile but can be vvery territorial. I'vve hunted them before." Eridan told her, confused on why she was asking.

Hermione began to sputter.

"THEY EXIST ON ALTERNIA?!"

Her outburst caused quite a few heads to turn their way, although Hermione shouting something random about whatever she was arguing about wasn't all that uncommon, so they soon returned to mind their own business. The bushy haired girl's face turned pink as the embarrassment washed over her aura, and Eridan awkwardly papped her like he would with Feferi. Luna seemed to be smiling serenely as always, but he could sense a slight hint of smugness from the girl.

After bidding the Gryffindors goodbye, Eridan went to the Ravenclaw tower with Luna and Aradia. And thus ended his rather interesting first school day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The trouble came the next week, when Dolores Umbridge decided that while she wasn't healed up enough from that vicious student attack to teach a class just yet, she was well enough to serve detention to previously mentioned vicious student. So Eridan was accosted on his way to his first herbology lesson by the smug yet slightly frazzled croakbeast of a professor who proclaimed that he would be serving detention after he finished all his classes for the day.

Eridan refused to let this ruin his second week of learning magic at a magic school, so he went into his classes with the same vivacious excitement as he did the day before. He accidentally terrified the Venomous Tentacula due to this, as the plant had a habit of sensing the energies around it to search for chizpurfles, it's main diet, and picked up the predatorial energy of the troll instead. Professor Sprout was very confused when they suddenly became extremely docile. The students, however, were relieved (even if they didn't know why it happened). The plant liked to grab at the ankles of whatever hapless student was around it for amusement.

Potions was fun. Very fun. Unfortunately it seemed like Severus ("Professor Snape. This is a more professional setting than before and it would be best if we aren't seen as very close.") was experiencing far less enjoyment, although that could have been attributed to the fact that the dark robed human was teaching more than Eridan and these wrigglers were less mentally developed in terms of following instructions for their own safety. Eridan had counted two exploded cauldrons, three bubbling over, and one suddenly emitting the faint scent of daffodils before spontaneously combusting. Fascinating to watch, though while his potion had come out as 'acceptable', the young troll knew that if he wasn't distracted by the sudden appearance of the beam of daffodil-scented flames, he wouldn't have missed the moment where he was supposed to add in the porcupine quills.

Shame.

It was only after Ancient Runes that things went well and truly downhill. Having finished his last class in a good mood Eridan was instead treated to the sight of the horrendous pink croakbeast right outside the classroom door. Like some kind of stalker. This made a chill run up the disguised troll's spine in disgust, which he didn't bother to hide from the so-called Defense teacher (who couldn't even defend herself from something much smaller than her!)

"Ah, Mr. Black! Just who I wanted to see!" Umbridge tittered cheerfully as if meeting him here was mere coincidence, speaking again before Eridan even had the chance to open his mouth, "It's time for your detention. I'm afraid dinner is going to have to wait until afterwards."

Wow. She must think she was so dastardly with her wording. Any wriggler could tell that she intended to drag this out until far past the normal human bedtime. He assumed she had some kind of excuse prepared or even just another babysitter for him while the croakbeast ate her own meal. Violet eyes narrowed but remembered Harry's request not to cause trouble. Silently the disguised troll followed the smug woman along to what he assumed was her office…

By the Condescension… the room was decked out in frills and a far lighter shade of pink than the royal Fuchsia but still… this place was a spit in the face to Her Royal Condescension, or any of the royal bloodline. Hell, Eridan was pretty sure even Fef would balk at the place. If not Fef, then definitely Kan. The over abundance of frills and lace were a fashion nightmare, almost as bad as the walking disaster that was the Headmaster. Although, he had to begrudgingly admit that while there was entirely too much of it for his liking, everything from the frills to the tiny plates holding juvenile meowbeasts were arranged… neatly. This croakbeast of a woman was obsessed with her own brand of order. It was almost admirable even if he didn't want to admit it.

"Have a seat, Mr. Black." The toad simpered out, motioning to the chair that was equally covered in cushions and frills.

For some reason the contrast between the fact that there was a cushion on the student chair (where there otherwise wasn't in most other offices) when the teacher in question seemed to disregard her students' well-being the most made Eridan want to laugh out loud at the irony. It was most likely there for the aesthetic, which was very… Alternian of her. Were Umbridge a Troll, he would have pinned her somewhere on the mid-high range. Like Cerulean. She certainly grated on his nerves (simply by opening her mouth for the most part) as much as Serket did.

Without turning his back to her (and therefore somewhat awkwardly), Eridan sat in the proffered pink cushioned chair with trepidation, watching for her reaction behind his large frames. Her eyes kept on flickering smugly between him and the pitch black quill that was placed perfectly along the border of a blank piece of parchment. He could feel… something… emanating from the sharp-tipped feather from a large, unknown squawkbeast.

While the quill itself didn't feel malicious, Umbridge definitely did. The wide, smug grin was still on her face as she waltzed over to where her taller, embroidered chair was. However she didn't sit down, instead looming over Eridan and picking up the quill. She held it delicately for a moment as if it were a dagger and then grabbed the young student's wrist, placing the quill into his hand. He bit back a growl of distaste at being manhandled in such a way by a lowly landwelling little-

"Now, we will be writing lines today." Umbridge forced the tip of the quill to the top of the page. "You shall be writing 'I must obey Miss Umbridge'. I will let you know when you've done enough. Begin."

Her tone had changed from the saccharine simpering to an authoritarian one that sounded far more genuine. With narrowed eyes Eridan stared at her in derision. What in the distant, unfathomable Void were 'lines'? He could feel the irritation from the woman in front of him.

"Perhaps you aren't familiar with discipline." The croakbeast In the pink cardigan intoned with an ugly smile, taking her own glittery pink quill and writing down I must obey Miss Umbridge on a separate piece of parchment and placing it before him. "You are going to write that until I tell you that you're finished, Mr. Black. Quite simple, hm?

Satisfied with herself she sat down, brushed invisible dust off her lap, and stared at Eridan waiting for him to begin. Since she seemed to be in such a rush, the young troll in disguise took his sweet time lifting his quill, going to dip it in the nearby inkpot. Surprisingly, Umbridge stopped him.

"Oh, you will need ink for this quill. Just start writing." She simpered out, causing suspicion to rise inside him. While he assumed there could be quills that could create their own ink, he doubted that was something that would cause Umbridge to be excited - unless she really was that dull of a person.

With one last glance at that toady smile, Eridan began to copy the letters. To his surprise, the color that the words took was the royal violet of his blood. It was then that he felt a prickle at the back of his writing hand as the sentence he just wrote etched itself there. Huh, so this device used the writer's own blood? Fascinating! He wondered what the original use was for this - probably something with Ancient Runes since the medium for the runes helped determine their effectiveness. And with a quill like this, you didn't have to worry about messy blood spills or trying to measure out exact amounts—

A choked intake of breath jerked him from his thoughts. Umbridge was staring at him with the widest eyes he'd ever seen on her. Now Eridan could sense intense waves of fear and disgust radiating off of her. For a second, he was confused as to why until he looked at the back of his hand again, at the violet blood that seeped through the shallow cuts. Human blood was red, wasn't it? His blood was the only thing not disguised by Severus' potion. There was a sense of pride in Eridan, knowing that it was his Royal blood that struck fear into the heart of this croakbeast — Even if it was for a different reason then why it would scare someone on Alternia. For what seemed like hours Eridan kept his eyes locked to Umbridge, as if daring her to do something, anything.

It was only when the woman finally let out a screech akin to a dying Lusus that the small troll in disguise finally leapt from his seat. Faster than any human could react, he uppercut the howling woman in the jaw, knocking her out cold. The round body in the pink cardigan slumped in her seat. With that done Eridan bolted out of the door, the black quill still in his hands. He needed to do damage control before he was ousted on his second week of Hogwarts. Like a lightning bolt he shot off into the corridors, looking for Severus' quarters. What had the older human said again? Green ribbon, black door, nameplate…

Not even knocking, the small figure burst through the door. To his credit, Severus Snape didn't even flinch as this happened. With practiced, precise motions he returned the phial he was grading back to its rack, folding his hands out onto his lap, one single eyebrow raised.

"Wwe havve a problem." Was the first thing out of Eridan's mouth.

"Mr. Ampora," The Potions master responded slowly, "You are supposed to be serving detention with Professor Umbridge, if I recall correctly."

Instead of giving a proper verbal answer at first, Eridan brandished the Quill he plundered. "This wwas my detention an noww I'm in deep wwater. The quill wwrites wwith my blood." He explained once his thoughts collected themselves, "She knowws."

One raised eyebrow became too as careful hands took the quill, looking it over. Momentarily Eridan saw Severus' brows knit together before the man stood from his seat and made his way to a separate rack of phials.

"I've yet to test… these out." Severus murmured, plucking one of the deep red potions out, "They were crafted in case an emergency with your blood color in dispute ever arose… however there may be side effects due to your… alien physiology."

The phial was placed into Eridan's hands, which pinched at it as if it contained a disease. He understood what the potions professor meant and why it had to be made but… blood color was an important part of a troll's identity. To take that away, for even a moment, was akin to asking them to give up on that identity. He'd already let the potion take his fins and his claws and his horns. To go the last step, to become fully human even in such a way… he didn't know if he could bring himself to do that.

"It should last approximately five hours, if my calculations are correct." Was all Severus offered, seeing the trepidation on the young disguised troll's face. "You may not have a choice should Umbridge choose to push her stance — you may not care for our laws but since you are now a student here you will be subject to them whether you want to be or not.

"I… I need to think on this." Eridan managed out from his swirling thoughts, "Thank you." He bobbed his head a bit in respect for one of the few adults he held in decent regard and scuttled out of the office.

He… he needed to ask for advice from someone who understood the weight of their blood, at least on some level.

He needed to speak with his Moirail.

Silently he made his way straight to the Ravenclaw tower, knowing that one meal skipped wasn't going to harm him, speaking only to answer the riddle from the knocker. It wasn't until he reached the safety of his personal dorm room that he relaxed a bit, using the privacy charms that Hermione had taught him to keep things under wraps. No need for any more leaks today. Tapping his glasses, the small troll in disguise booted up Trollian.

Eridan closed the trollian app on his glasses, sitting quietly beside his recupracoon for a moment. Fef was right, he didn't need to decide on what to do immediately. He could think on this, look at every possible pro and con to either choice. A sigh escaped him as he leaned back on the purple container that contained the ooze that calmed the nerves of every troll when they were in its clutches. Perhaps he should be like Makara and start ingesting it to calm his nerves….

Hell no. That's also a line he wouldn't cross. Surreptitiously he eyed the sopor slime once more before deciding he needed some air. Or water. Or something.

There was a lake behind the castle, right?

Meanwhile, the Legacy (all gathered at the dinner table of Gryffindor) was missing their second resident Ravenclaw. Luna was already digging into some beef Wellington with what most people would have assumed was her normal aura of battiness. However, they could tell by the glances she often stole at the doors that she was getting worried about their absent member.

Two absent members, in fact, if one counted the ghost troll as well.

This made the Legacy reasonably uneasy due to the volatile natures that had been observed from both trolls. The uneasiness rose when they realized that both Umbridge and Snape were also unaccounted for. While Harry was relieved that he didn't have to even look at the toad during his meal, the fear of what was happening in Eridan's detention right now almost outweighed it.

"Maybe we should check if Umbridge is still alive…" he heard Ron mutter from beside him.

A ripple of whispers then spread across the student body in the Great Hall as Snape arrived, his face looking more gaunt than it usually did. The dour professor beelined for Dumbledore and whispered something in his ear. The Headmaster lost most of the color on his face. Harry didn't even need to try to guess what it was as voices rang out louder from the Lion Table.

"Did you hear?"

"Umbridge is in the Hospital Wing again."

"Completely unconscious!"

"Bleeding from her nose…"

"Wonder who was the mad bloke who did that to her."

Well, there went the evening. There was only one suspect in his mind and Eridan was still not in the Great Hall. Hermione leaned over to the rest of the Legacy.

"We need to find him. Now." She hissed between her teeth, already getting up from the table. Pulling at their sleeves she indicated that Ron and Harry should follow her while she turned to Fred, George, Luna, and Neville. "Let's split up and meet in the Common Room. Neville and Luna, check the Ravenclaw dormitories. Fred and George, scan the dungeons. Ron, Harry, you're with me. Let's at least find a troll."

Harry glanced mournfully at his half-eaten treacle tart as they went off to find Eridan.

The search for the missing trolls yielded poor results. One by one, each area inside the castle was scoured for any sign of Eridan or Aradia, but they couldn't find head nor horn of either of them. A couple of ghosts had helpfully informed them that the 'Demon Ghost of Hogwarts' wasn't a resident as far as they could tell — instead she came and went as she pleased, seemingly phasing in and out of reality.

"She's probably back in her home on Alternia." Luna helpfully explained to the rest of the Legacy dreamily when they grouped up again, squinting at the corners with her spectrespecs, "Aradia and I were talking about her astral projection ability. It has a time limit and with all the time she spent with us it's probably run out by now."

Well, that solved one mystery. Now where the hell was Eridan? Harry rechecked his pocket again. Nope, his invisibility cloak was still here. That idea was out. With curfew around the corner and two of their number being prefects with duties to perform, they had no choice but to abandon their search for the time being.

Naturally this meant that Harry restarted his search in the middle of the night, when everyone was in bed and snoring. Luna had told them previously that Ravenclaws were usually left to their own devices so a headcount was never done (lucky bastards) which meant he could still be out and about without anyone noticing. In the pandemonium of the second Umbridge incident, everyone was a flurry with theories, quite a few which involved Eridan since he was the first offender as well.

Surprisingly no one else seemed to be looking for the bloke, but that might have to do with the fact that they were trying to figure out how long Umbridge would be out for this time. The students rejoiced.

Putting his cloak back on he snuck out of the dormitories (well, less snuck out than quietly pattering about as Prefect Ronald Weasley watched out for anyone else) and made his way to the last place he could think the troll could be.

He was 'sea-dwelling', wasn't he?

To his great shock, when Harry reached the Lake he came to find that he was not the only one who thought of this. In the moonlight he could make out the tiny silhouette of Professor Flitwick talking to a form floating in the water. As he got nearer he realized that they seemed to be speaking some form of Alternian. The green eyed teen could vaguely make out the now-familiar syllables that made up the troll language coming from the both of them. For a second this puzzled him before he remembered that Goblins spoke a form of Alternian. He wondered what they were talking about so intently, although he could somewhat deduce by tone that whatever it was, Flitwick was consoling him. In the moonlight he could make out the candy corn colored horn on the troll that he'd seen nearly the entire summer-

"Five points from Gryffindor for sneaking around at night, Mr. Potter."

The sudden raise in volume, the switch to English, and of course the message that was uttered was enough to wrench Harry from his thoughts. His head snapped up as he looked at the duo again. Flitwick was gazing in his vague direction with a sharpness he rarely saw on the diminutive professor, and Eridan… was staring dead at him. In the dark his violet and orange eyes seemed to glow, pupils large and round. It was a tad unsettling,

"How did you know it was me?" Was all the teen could stammer out, his cheeks feeling hot with embarrassment.

"Mr. Potter you are the only one in the school with an invisibility cloak and much like your father never realized that we can still hear things like footsteps and breathing." came the professor's dry remark, although there was a hint of fondness in them.

"Sorry, sir." Harry muttered sheepishly, lowering the hood of the cloak, "I was looking for, er…" he turned to Eridan, who seemed more at ease in the water. His fins and gills, at least, were being put to use here, "Uh, Professor Dumbledore's asked me to be his, er, mentor of sorts and I got worried after he didn't show for dinner."

Looks like the cat (or troll) was out of the bag for Flitwick, although Harry would consider him at least trustworthy in these times — and Eridan was getting along with him swimmingly. And if his Potter sense was right, he probably also made friends with the denizens of the Lake as well. And since he skipped dinner, ate some of them as well.

He got a nod in return as Flitwick turned back to Eridan, "Well then, Mr. Potter, Mr. Ampora, we should return and retire for tonight. We can finish resolving these things in the morning. Both of you see me after classes for detention."

"But Professor-" Harry began to argue, but was stopped by Flitwick raising his hand.

"Better detention with me to discuss things than with Umbridge when she awakes. I have been notified of her… methods." A sidelong glance to Eridan again. The troll sunk a little more in the water, his earfins drooping. What on earth happened?

A splash and Eridan was out of the lake, his soaking-wet clothes changed back to his Hogwarts uniform. Wow, that Sylladex really comes in handy. Those along with more worrisome thoughts plagued Harry as the three of them went back into the castle in silence, trying to make heads or tails of what was going on.

"So let's get this straight." Ron ran a hand through his red hair, grumbling from the lack of sleep that comes with being a prefect, trying out for Keeper on the nights he was free, and from the increasing absurdity of the situation. "Umbridge is using an illegal—it's illegal, yeah?" Both Harry and Eridan nodded from their place on the floor of Eridan's expanded trunk (they had decided to hold the meeting in there to avoid prying eyes and ears). "And illegal quill that uses the writer's blood to write with to make students write lines with them…"

"She did some other students before me." the currently undisguised troll added with a nod, "Got that from Professor Flitwick this afternoon."

"…and because you've got blood that's not red, she freaked out and you bashed her face in?" Ron continued, tilting his head as he tried to think on something, "Isn't that the opposite of you trolls with the whole blood color thing?"

"Pretty much, yeah." Eridan muttered with a bit of a shrug.

Harry could tell that he still wasn't keen on taking the potion. From the conversation they had in Flitwick's office and from what he recalled the troll had told them about the hemospectrum, he could understand why.

"Don't forget that Professor Snape has got a potion to turn your blood red for a while." Hermione piped up from behind a book of law and rules she was reading (most likely for the blood quills and how she could pin Umbridge with using it on children), "We've also got that in our favor, along with the support of the other professors."

"So what's the deal with the blood color potion again? She's already seen that it was violet." Ginny piped up, her legs criss-crossed as she stretched, "Sounds like that chance has already flown the coop."

"Put the blame on us." George offered, having snuck in some sweets from the kitchens.

"Yeah! We've been experimenting with our new prank line like the Skivving Snackboxes-" Fred added excitedly, always happy to talk shop about their forming business.

"Which may need to be used soon…" Ron muttered, getting a smack up the head by Hermione. "Oi!"

"But a snack or potion that changes blood color sounds like a wicked idea." George finished up the point and his tart, "If that toad tries to pull the same trick, we can always say the first time was after Eridan was testing one of our goods before going to detention. Then the next time he is, his blood would be back to 'normal'."

"But if he's the only one with a different blood that she pulled, she's going to start giving detentions left and right to find another." Neville pondered with worry etched on his face, "And if she doesn't find one, then a bunch of students are going to get carved."

"So then we'll need an actual product that changes blood color." Fred proclaimed with a wide grin, rubbing his chin in thought, "Maybe candies that have different colors depending on what color they'll make your blood?"

"Combined with the Nosebleed Nougats this will be a huge hit!" George cackled out as he thought about the possibilities.

Immediately the twins turned to a rather uncomfortable Eridan. Their eyes gleamed at the fact that they had a live sample of a humanoid with another blood color right in front of them. A couple chuckles were covered up at the look on the troll's face — a mixture of shock and indignation before he sighed, rubbing his temples.

"If it means I don't havve to take the vvial myself I don't care if you wwanna copy my blood color."

"I thought you coveted your blood because of its rarity and thus its position on the hemospectrum." Luna finally spoke up from reading the Quibbler, though it was still upside down while wearing those spectrespecs of hers. Harry briefly wondered what she was seeing.

"If it means I get to keep my owwn color, I'll alloww it." Eridan sighed out, "I knoww wwhen to pick my battles."

"Right! We'll get to work then." Fred exclaimed excitedly, rubbing his hands together eagerly.

"We'll write up a contract for putting you as a 'tester' and backdate it to before the detention." George added, writing down something on a notepad that he had procured from… somewhere, "We also might need to talk to Snape about how he made the potion and what to look out for."

"Snape teaming up with the Twins sounds like a nightmare I once had." Ron mumbled again, still rubbing at his head from before.

With a plan in place, the Legacy got to work. Fred and George worked with Snape on 'remedial potions lessons' for a few days to knock out most of the issues Snape was having with the potion before. Due to the fact that Eridan was still adamant about not changing his own blood color, the project switched to temporarily changing their own blood color to the Ampora violet.

In the time it took for Umbridge to wake up from Eridan's hit (which was around two days), the time it took for her to mentally recover to the point where she could leave the Hospital Wing (which was another three days), and the time it took for her to resume classes instead of 'grading' the classes of the others teachers and making snide remarks to both teacher and student alike (another week), the Twins managed to create a shimmering violet potion that changed the blood color of the drinker for twenty minutes. One of their other testers (a third year who wanted to get some extra pocket money) also gained the side effect of gills and earfins, almost a cross between Eridan's traits and the effect of gillyweed (which had been used in the potion). Unfortunately since the tester couldn't breath above water due to the gillyweed style gills, they had to keep going.

Now, they couldn't work on this the entire time. After all, most of the Legacy were in their O.W.L.s year and therefore had twice the amount of homework than they did the last year. The majority of days were spent just trying to keep up with it all. Even Hermione was sweating it (majorly about the exams that were at the end of the year). As for the Twins, it was their N.E.W.T year, so they were under even more duress. Thankfully Snape gave them extra credit for their 'remedial' potions and could at times be heard muttering about them and their antics.

Umbridge was taking her sweet time getting ready to resume classes. He assumed it was because of the incident that happened on her first lesson ever, so she was planning on being extra cautious. In the meantime it was Snape (who was just as strict teaching it as he was in Potions) that had stepped up to substitute along with Flitwick (he focused on dueling techniques) and even at times McGonagall and Dumbledore. It was clear, though, that Umbridge was being pressured to return to her official station as the Defense teacher by the rest of the staff or risk being fired for not performing her job description.

Keeper tryouts came and went, and Ron got the spot to the group's astonishment and elation. The party they held was enormous, with Gryffindor supplying butterbeer to their peers all through the night.

Eridan was continuing his studies as if nothing had ever happened, quickly rising to the top of his class in most subjects. He was becoming well known amongst the third years for being the only student getting top grades in History of Magic, and it wasn't uncommon now to see him lecturing animatedly to a gathered group of year-mates on the goblin wars. With some of the material being on the O. and N.E. , quite a few upper years would join in on the discussion as well.

As news poured in from the Daily Prophet, it was made known to the Legacy that the Ministry was now targeting Order members. One of their number had already been framed up and shipped to Azkaban, and with the way Umbridge was situated in the school, they only had so much time before she tried to regain her power again.

Two weeks flew by just like that, and the time finally rolled around when Umbridge was 'well enough' to teach her first class to the Griffindor-Slytherin fifth years. It coincided with the completion of the prototype Troll Taffy, which currently was only available in the violet Ampora Berry. Said prototype was sitting in wait in Harry's pocket as the toad herself waltzed into class.

It had been a unified decision that Harry was going to be the one to use the taffy since he was the one Umbridge had it out for. The chances of him getting detention were essentially 100% and pretty much everyone knew it. So the plan was that since Eridan had already served detention with Flitwick while Umbridge was out, to dangle a new victim in front of her as bait. Harry had quite a few thoughts on being bait, but one of them was that this was better than the castle getting blown up by Ahab's Crosshairs.

…And with the way this class was going so far, Harry was now able to understand what made Eridan go feral. If he thought Umbridge's personality was bad from the trial, Sirius' 'execution', what she was now proved the situation to be far, far worse than they assumed with her speech at the beginning of the year. Especially with what he'd heard from Eridan and Flitwick on the detentions she's been serving to the rest of that class for speaking up.

Also what were they, seven? Harry hadn't been this insulted of his age since primary school. And he was actually seven then. This woman had no excuse. What was even more ridiculous was when the truth of what she was teaching came to light. Or better put what wasn't going to be taught in Dolores Umbridge's Delightful Ministry-Approved Slaughterhouse Class.

He was unbelievably bored. The book they were told to open was drier than Binns' lectures, and he found himself daydreaming of flying in the Quidditch pitch or what it would be like to FLARP on Alternia with battles and stakes and treasure. The green eyed teen hadn't left the first page, still trying to absorb the words to no avail.

It was also the first time Harry had noticed where Hermione refused to open a textbook. Hell was going to freeze over at this rate. She had her hand up for at least a good half hour before the toad magnanimously decided to acknowledge her existence. Which seems to be something of a metaphor for the Ministry as well, Harry thought to himself. Watching them, it was if he was witnessing a duel about to take place, with swords and trumpets blaring in the background. Or a face-off against an ugly monster.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?" Umbridge simpered out with a tight smile. The proverbial claws were unsheathed, not yet fully bared.

Harry imagined that Umbridge's claws were probably painted a gaudy pink color with little head charms of Fudge in his ugly lime green bowler hat.

"Not about the chapter, no." A return show of a sword, a display that a duel was to be called.

Hermione would look pretty cool with a basket hilt rapier, Harry thought to himself.

"Well, we're reading just now. If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class." Umbridge simpered, the claws looming over as a threat to behave.

Like vultures, they circled each other with hedging words, waiting for engagement.

"I've got a query about your course aims." Another flash of the blade, shining metal of sharp wit and steel.

At last, the sword is drawn, and battle is called.

"I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully." Umbridge snipped, claws slashing down on Hermione's pride as a bookworm.

Each word was punctuated by condescension. Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

"There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells." Came Hermione's own jab, a riposte that got to her point.

This verbal spar was hilarious to Harry as he thought about the fact that the last time Hermione had the guts to question a teacher was Divination.

"Using defensive spells?" Professor Umbridge repeated with a little laugh, her claws going snicker-snack against Hermione's sharpened argument. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

But it became even more so when more of the Gryffindor side started jumping in on the action.

"We're not going to use magic?" Ron fired out. A revolver, Harry imagined, Chudley Cannon Orange.

But Harry, having already seen what happened from Eridan, decided to stay quiet for the time being. Take in information. As he did so, two things became very apparent to him.

"Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class." Umbridge dodged the bullet weakly with her words, still standing strong.

One, the Slytherins also had various looks of upset from the information, but most appeared to be smirking at the Gryffindors making a spectacle.

"Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?" Hermione's jab soared through, her point sharp and clear.

Harry began to wonder if they were able to get extra Defense training from Snape instead. He was certainly qualified to teach it if the Ministry battle was anything to go by - not that the Minister even accepted that Voldemort was back yet. And he had been the one to substitute most of the time when the toad had been shirking her duties.

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?" Umbridge parried expertly, her sickening sweet smile widening as she claimed the upper hand at Hermione's falter, "Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way-"

Which meant the other houses would be at a significant disadvantage come time for the OWLs. The fact that the Ministry would go so far to cripple their youth for such a petty fight really showed just how inept the current magical governing body was.

"What use is that?" A surprise attack from Seamus! Explosive, caught unawares, like the smoulders of a grenade, "If we're going to be attacked it won't be in a-"

Some Slytherins were side-eying him in confusion. Of course, Harry was known to have an explosive temper, but deciding to play a bit more Slytherin on top of dealing with Eridan for half of the summer really changed his own plan of attack.

"Hand, Mr. Finnigan!" Came the teetering recovery, but it was clear she was caught unbalanced.

Two, Umbridge was also giving him glances every so often.

"If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk-free!" Dean joined in, his statement like an axe shrieking through the air.

Harry was rather confused as to why (other than the obvious point that she hated his guts, but she was in the middle of a fight with most of the other Gryffindors at the moment) until he realized that all her questions returned back to the same thing.

"I repeat," dodged Umbridge, circling around with her sharpened claws, "do you expect to be attacked during my classes?"

The irony of that statement with the verbal battle being raged was almost crushing.

"Isn't there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL?" Pavarti snapped out, like a whip from the side. A new angle, bedazzled with a glittering butterfly charm, "Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the countercurses and things?"

Briefly, Harry wondered if all those times Eridan talked about his FLARPing sessions was changing the way he saw even these mundane things. Or if the other test taffies he tried were having other effects on him than they originally thought…

"As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions." Umbridge sidestepped with a dismissive tone, as if she had prepared for such things.

Art in the battle, a dangerous dance.

"Without ever practicing them before?" Parvati lashed out. The whip sought out a way to get the toad off her feet, "Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?"

Wwhether it be wwith swwords or tongues.

"I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough-" Umbridge wobbled, as if surprised by the barrage from so many angles.

Both can be wwon, or lost.

"And what good's theory going to be in the real world?" Neville cut in. A large greatsword wielded by two hands. Made by vine and wood. More poisonous and dangerous than assumed at first glance.

Both wwill havve casualties.

"This is school, Mr. Longbottom, not the real world." Umbridge tried to block, her tone soft and dangerous now.

Harry's eyes narrowed from behind the glare of his glasses.

"So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?" A flash of steel, his feet as firm as his resolve.

His hands were folded in front of him as he watched as Neville alone stood off in front of Umbridge in this duel.

"There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Longbottom." Came the low hiss from the toad before the valiant knight.

Her words were slow. Deliberate. As if lying in wait for someone.

"Oh yeah?"

But not for Neville.

"Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" inquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice, her tone implying that she had the upper hand.

The answer was obviously Voldemort. But that wouldn't matter since he was the current boogeyman who didn't exist in their eyes. She was trying to bait Harry. Trying to make him crack and then display him as a maniac. Parade him as a madman. Just like they had been doing this whole time.

"Hmm, let's think…" piped up Harry in a mock thoughtful voice, watching a grimly satisfied expression bloom on her face as he finally spoke up after all this time, standing up from his desk.

But the thing about parrots is…

He thought back to the blood quill he was shown, to the taffy in his pocket that the twins gave him and the mission he was to accomplish.

"I imagine it would be you, Professor Umbridge." A final strike, a curved blade of finality, combined with a grin reminiscent of a troll with violet blood.

And the class turned to pandemonium once more.

Chapter Text

Alternia Interlude - Kanaya Maryam

Kanaya Maryam wasn’t exactly sure what she was looking at. 

The images that Eridan sent her of some of his exploits on Earth had been fascinating. A society that didn’t mind delving into color without the constraints of the hemospectrum had been eye-opening, to say the least. The beasts with vibrant plumages, the clothing, even the hair and skin of these humans varied so much from the black and greys of Alternia. 

Even if some of the color and patterning choices were… less than palatable (mainly from the human known as Albus Dumbledore, whose choice of color and patterning were both bold and frankly horrifying), for the most part the visuals sent to her had been stunning. Hogwarts castle itself was elegant in its design, and the uniform robes could be tweaked to something tasteful. At least some humans knew what they were doing with all the color and choices they were blessed with, with the option of letting it all shine and sparkle in their not-quite-as-deadly sun. 

She gained some inspiration from the views of the forest and the lake, the sun rising over that horizon, from the pictures of the ‘Phoenix’ and the pixies and the fire crabs. She had sent back pictures of outfits she had made with them in mind. They turned out far better than she originally hoped, and it allowed her to focus on something more than just Vriska and the original Austispice she had with her and Eridan. But they were still friends and that did count for something, right? 

The jadeblood was unsure why Eridan requested a small vial of her blood, the violetblood having promised to explain it to her ‘if it worked’. That and the spool of rare sea-thread helped smooth things over, for sure. What the humans wanted with her blood was beyond her, but she trusted the seadweller enough not to sell her out to the one-blood-colored (but many-hair-and-skin-pigmented) aliens of Earth. 

So she had gone to his Hive to drop the small vial of her deep green blood off, having taken the transportalizer there so as to not ruin her current outfit  —  and going to a broken warship in the middle of the ocean will do that without fail. She had warned him of her arrival so that she wouldn’t get zapped by whatever security measures he had taken and likely outsourced to Equius and Sollux. His Hive looked muchly the same as it had the last time she had been there. Although the wand pile had been cleared away, as had the piles of gold. Maybe that was why it felt… emptier?

Perhaps it was the lack of clutter that she was sure Eridan coincided with the flaunting of wealth, or the knowledge that the Hive’s occupant was lightyears away from this place, but there was an almost hollow feeling in this place. A sense of… sadness? No… bittersweetness. Like a fruit not yet ripe and a fruit that was overripe. Both mourning and awaiting a return. Such a strange feeling. 

Kanaya darted over to the respiteblock where she was instructed to leave the vial, noticing the lack of a recupracoon and husktop. He really did clean up around here, didn’t he? Whilst trying to ignore the stare from the leering statues he still had around the place (especially the one in here in the shape of Dualscar), she set the vial on the ornate desk. Gog, did everything he own reek of opulence? He definitely had a taste for the not-so-subtle gothic designs. Might be why he got on so well learning his ‘magic’ in a castle . 

Highbloods, seriously. 

The looming, almost yawning silence behind the breaks and groans of the ship against the constant thunderstorms outside made the ambience needlessly spooky. And it wasn’t because she was getting spooked. Absolutely not the case. Who did you think she was?

Footsteps across the hallway nearly made her jump. 

Was Eridan back?

“I Swear If You’re Attempting To Frighten Me With Such Juvenile Methods, Know That It Won’t Work On Me.”

No response to that. Kanaya may or may not have huffed in irritation. But alas, her curiosity got the better of her as she followed the sound of the footsteps. Through the winding halls — and the occasional crack of lightning behind closed and heavy curtains — she was still able to hear the footsteps of herself and her mysterious pursuant. 

The path ended with the vast library that she, Eridan, Vriska, Tavros, Aradia, and Terezi would periodically comb through for inspiration for their FLARP costumes. 

Thinking back on it, it was quite funny that for all his talk about ‘lowbloods’ and ‘killing landdwellers’ (which like most things went in one ear and out the other — there were certain things you didn’t take him seriously on), Eridan was more than happy to invite those same people into his abode and play host. He even let them use his beloved library. Unlike Kanaya, who was generally there to help with design input and the one that offered to make said costumes, some of the others just enjoyed adding to their character’s backstory and spending the day hanging out there (though usually far from the wand pile… how did he think that was a remotely comfortable idea?). 

Her thoughts were interrupted as soon as she saw the tall figure casually sliding a book into one of the lower shelves. The white clothing was odd enough, but the most jarring part was the obvious candy-corn colored lighting-bolt shaped horns that belonged to only one troll that she knew. 

The figure turned to face her.

The news of both Eridan’s and Harry’s detentions spread like wildfire. Of the use of the blood quills that the professors were desperately trying to find a way to remove (but apparently Umbridge had gotten ‘official permission’ to ‘use them for unruly children’), and of her reaction to the rather distinct violet hue of the two’s resulting ink. Through the Hogwarts grapevine — that line that heard everything and doled it out to the inhabitants of the castle like drugs at a party — everyone from the wide-eyed firsties to the homework-encumbered seventh-years knew about the strange new candy that turned your blood a different color. 

Soon inquiries on the Troll Taffy’s (new name pending since they didn’t want to have to explain why ‘troll’ was in the name) official release flooded the Weasley Twins’ proverbial mailbox. This caused them to accost Eridan, who was still mentally preparing himself for his second detention (this time using the potion to make his blood red… he still wasn’t happy about it) for samples of other blood colors. The seadwelling troll that was mildly obsessed with his own blood color had reached out to his fellow troll friends (of which he was in contact with one of each in the hemospectrum… handy) and managed to cajole them to do so with some kind of compensation. 

They managed to get a brown, a yellow, an olive green, a jade green, a teal, a cerulean, an indigo, a very dark purple, and a fuchsia vial that caused Eridan to choke on his pancakes when he received it from his ‘moirail’ (which was kind of like a best friend? He tried explaining it to them and it was weird that trolls limited themselves to one or tried to ‘facilitate’ them into various other relationships or ‘quadrants’). All in all a very good haul that at least gave them a wide variety for customers to choose from.

Aradia had cheerfully offered hers up, although it seemed her maroon closely resembled the normal human shade, along with another of Eridan’s friend, Karkat (“wwith ‘k’s, not ‘c’s”), who had a brighter red than usual and seemed closed-off at the idea of revealing his blood color. 

Eridan explained to the Twins that Karkat’s blood color was a mutation and would get him killed on Alternia if it were discovered by other parties. Apparently this caused the Twins to owl their mother. Harry had an inkling of what might have been said. 

Nevertheless, ‘carcinoGeneticist’ joined their friend group chat on Trollian — which explained why Eridan wanted Ron to change his font color, especially since Karkat’s language opened up a new avenue for the redhead to swear loads more than he did in person — along with ‘cuttlefishCuller’ (whose quirk gave Hermione a headache). The chat got livelier with them around, at least finally meeting the ‘other side’ of Eridan’s friend group. Harry did see a passing resemblance of Karkat and Ron, and a more stretched comparison of Hermione and Feferi.

This opened up a new avenue for the Legacy, having only conversed with two other trolls (from opposite sides of the Hemospectrum, as they’ve learned) beforehand. It gave a broader outlook onto what Alternia was like, and unlike Eridan and Aradia, Karkat and Feferi weren’t as happy with the way things were run. In fact, they expressed their desire to explore Earth’s culture (Feferi because she was more human-level when it came to violence and Karkat because he didn’t want to be culled for existing) though the humans requested they wait until the ‘Umbridge Issue’ was resolved. 

Speaking of Umbridge, the toad was getting ready to do… something. 

Her snide remarks had become more pointed, unable to do much else other than force the hapless students into following her useless Defense program. But she smiled at Harry (and Eridan, who smiled back and caused her to frown) in a way that screamed “I’m up to something and you can’t do anything about it”. She also gave them more detentions. Just for, you know, breathing in her general direction. 

Harry was able to talk to Sirius (snufflingPadfoot) over Trollian to check in on how he was doing in relative house arrest. It felt like a lifesaver, especially since they were certain Umbridge was monitoring incoming and outgoing letters and perhaps even the Floo.

Apparently Remus (professorMoony) had ‘important Order business’ trying to bring in some werewolves into their cause (or at least, out of Voldemort’s hands) and so wasn’t around much. Most of the other members of the Order never stayed long, and one of their number had gone missing.

Which meant Sirius was stuck in his childhood home with Witherwings (which Eridan preferred as a name than ‘Buckbeak’. Really, Buck-beak? ) and Kreacher, who was nicer to Sirius since the revelation of what happened to Regulus. Despite the company and the use of Trollian, Harry could tell his godfather was getting a bit of cabin fever. He was a bit nervous that the Grimm animagus was going to do something rash. Like show up as Snuffles in Hogsmeade. 

So to make sure he stayed home, Harry ended up recording a bunch of things from his glasses. Never before in his life was he so grateful to have them, since the Husktop upgrades with the ‘psionic keyboard’ had the hands-free option. Sometimes he’d record his Quidditch games and practices, other times it was his classes or Umbridge’s detentions. He’d share it with Sirius and Remus, and of course the ‘Croakbeastkiller Army’.

Eridan had apparently been recording and sharing things with his troll friends since he got to Earth months ago. Including the dementor-killing incident and when he put the Toad in a chokehold. Feferi had been very proud that that was all Eridan had done to the woman despite her unpleasantness, as before he’d met Sirius it was highly likely Umbridge would’ve been blasted to smithereens. Which checked out.

Having people to talk to on Trollian and now with the added videos had hopefully made sure Sirius stayed, well, homestuck for the time being. And with that a potential danger was mitigated. 

Harry’s scar had also started to hurt again. Consulting with Eridan made it obvious that Voldemort was pissed off somewhere in the world and the Parasite connected to Harry was projecting those emotions into his head  —  and might even be reading his thoughts through the connection if the incident in the Department of Mysteries was any indication.

A very unpleasant thought.

To mitigate this, Eridan had begun teaching Harry tricks on how to shield his mind from any sorts of mind-reading and mind-control. When Harry asked if this was something all trolls knew, he shook his head and began muttering about ‘spider trolls’. When he’d asked Aradia about what Eridan meant by that, her creepy smile became wider. It was only after poking and prodding Feferi and Karkat did he learn about Vriska Serket and what her special ability was, and that she was essentially something like Eridan’s ex-hate-girlfriend. But if anyone would know how to shield your mind from someone trying to control or read it, it would be him. 

….Right?

Things finally came to a head when Ron received a letter from Percy. 

Dear Ron,

I have only just heard (from no less a person than the Minister

of Magic himself, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become a Hogwarts prefect.

Ron had been the first to read it, of course. And he’d read it, and re-read it with more scrutiny. And then he passed it to Hermione, who then passed it to Harry, who then posted a picture of it on the group memo from his glasses.

…which is why I am sending this at night rather than by the usual morning post…

It was more of a veiled warning than a letter to not cross Umbridge, though with the type of dryness and boring Ministry lingo that one generally expected of the Weasley middle child. But it was… insightful. 

I feel bound to tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge at Hogwarts much longer… I shall say no more here, but if you look at the Daily Prophet tomorrow you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing.

Despite the obvious and obligatory Ministry jabs toward him and Dumbledore, Percy had come through with the information the Legacy needed. And the forewarning of what Umbridge was planning.

I am very sorry to hear that so far Professor Umbridge is encountering very little cooperation from staff as she strives to make those necessary changes within Hogwarts that the Ministry so ardently desires (although she should find this easier from next week — again, see the Prophet tomorrow!). I shall say only this — a student who shows himself willing to help Professor Umbridge now may be very well placed for Head Boyship in a couple of years!

Somehow, she planned to gain full power in Hogwarts, which was bad news indeed. They would have to nip whatever this was in the bud before the Ministry completely crippled them.

It pains me to criticize our parents, but I am afraid I can no longer live under their roof while they remain mixed up with the dangerous crowd around Dumbledore (if you are writing to Mother at any point, you might tell her that a certain Sturgis Podmore, who is a great friend of Dumbledore’s, has recently been sent to Azkaban for trespass at the Ministry. Perhaps that will open their eyes to the kind of petty criminals with whom they are currently rubbing shoulders). I count myself very lucky to have escaped the stigma of association with such people — the Minister really could not be more gracious to me…

Please think over what I have said most carefully, particularly the bit about Harry Potter, and congratulations again on becoming prefect.

Your brother,

Percy

“Hold on, why am I the violent and unbalanced one?!” Harry squawked as he read the entire letter again, breaking the tense silence with the resounding laughter. “Compared to Eridan, I’m quite tame, thank you very much!”

The Trollian chat pinged with spats of ‘LOL’ and ‘Haha’ and ‘ROFLMAO’ and a singular ‘hey!’ from the resident troll in Hogwarts. This ‘livestream’ thing was rather fun to do. People made a living off of this on Alternia?

MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM

DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER “HIGH INQUISITOR”

It was a grim morning when the papers flew in. For all the students that understood (or were explained the intricate jargon by someone like Hermione), the Daily Prophet heralded dark times ahead for Hogwarts and her inhabitants. Umbridge had gained, essentially, control of the school. Eridan’s lips were pressed into a thin line as they regarded each other across the Great Hall, and Harry felt unnerved seeing the one who was usually on top of everything thinking hard on their next move. That and, according to the memo pinging in his glasses, he was upset that someone like Umbridge got a cool title like ‘High Inquisitor’. 

The only saving grace about this was that, apparently, both Eridan and Harry had traumatized her into relinquishing her position as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and decided to fully commit to her new role — which meant they won in that one small way. No one knew who was going to be their next DADA teacher, but anything (yes, even Voldemort at this point) would be better than that toad. Harry wondered if anyone from the Order would step up to do it, or Snape, since everyone knew he wanted the position even with its curse. 

In the meantime, it looked like they were once again utilizing the round-roster of professors (even Snape was getting tired of it, since this was done on top of his regular work. McGonagall and Flitwick didn’t seem too keen either, and Dumbledore… still wouldn’t look him in the eyes).

“Oh, I can’t wait to see McGonagall inspected!” Ron cackled out beside Harry, “Umbridge won’t know what’s hit her.”

The thought of a McGonagall vs Umbridge smackdown almost made Harry wish Umbridge would do her inspections during their class. Or Flitwick’s. Or Binns’. How do you even inspect a ghost? Would she take points off for being ‘un-alive’? Knowing Umbridge, though, Binns might be her favorite class since students barely learn anything from his droning.

Umbridge ended up not being in Binns’ class, nor was she in double Potions where Harry rapidly hid his ‘D’ for his moonstone essay. Snape had already started grading everything at OWLs level, and Harry felt like he was going to fail at this rate. He needed to get his head in the game if he was going to be an Auror (though, that’s if he lived long enough to graduate, with Voldemort frolicking around with his posse of mask-wearing bastards). Feeling a bit down and drained from the lesson, Harry hauled himself to lunch while Hermione chattered about her very impressive ‘A’ and seemed to be reassuring herself that not getting a perfect score wasn’t going to be the end of the world. 

“I mean, all right, I didn’t expect the top grade, not if he’s marking to OWL standard, but a pass is quite encouraging at this stage, wouldn’t you say?” She continued on, and Harry made a noncommittal noise in his throat. “Of course, a lot can happen between now and the exam, we’ve got plenty of time to improve, but the grades we’re getting now are a sort of baseline, aren’t they? Something we can build on…” 

They sat down together at the Gryffindor table, Harry keeping his eye out for where Eridan was (he wasn’t trying to find an out from this conversation, who told you that?). The troll had wandered to the Gryffindor table and moved to sit in his spot next to Harry, but was unfortunately interested in what Hermione was saying and was silently listening to the conversation.

“Obviously, I’d have been thrilled if I’d gotten an O-” 

“Hermione,” Ron finally snapped up sharply, “if you want to know what grades we got, ask .”

“I don’t — I didn’t mean — well, if you want to tell me —”

“I got a P,” Ron cut in, ladling soup into his bowl. “Happy?”

“Well, that’s nothing to be ashamed of,” butted Fred, who had just arrived at the table with George and Lee Jordan and was sitting down on the other side of the table, facing them. “Nothing wrong with a good healthy P.”

“But,” squeaked Hermione, “doesn’t P stand for…”

“‘Poor,’ yeah,” finished Lee Jordan, who noncommittally started nabbing some sandwiches, “Still, better than D, isn’t it? ‘Dreadful’?”

Harry choked on his roll, causing Eridan to thump at his back. The conversation around them continued without pause. 

“So top grade’s O for ‘Outstanding,’” Hermione recounted, “and then there’s A-”

“No, E,” George corrected her, “E for ‘Exceeds Expectations.’ And I’ve always thought Fred and I should’ve got E in everything, because we exceeded expectations just by turning up for the exams.”

They all laughed except Hermione, who plowed on, “So after E, it’s A for ‘Acceptable,’ and that’s the last pass grade, isn’t it?”

“Yep,” said Fred, dunking an entire roll in his soup, transferring it to his mouth, and swallowing it whole. “Then you get P for ‘Poor’” Ron raised both his arms in mock celebration. “and D for ‘Dreadful.’”

“And then T,” George reminded him.

“T?” asked Hermione, looking appalled. “Even lower than a D? What on earth does that stand for?”

“‘Troll.’” answered George promptly, before the words could catch up with his brain.

They went dead silent. Slowly, almost fearfully, they turned to the individual on Harry’s right. Even while looking like a thirteen year old human, something about him was just… terrifying. Was… was this the ‘aura’ the trolls talked about? 

“I beg your fuckin pardon?” asked Eridan coolly. They could practically feel the temperature drop around him as the actual troll’s gaze turned murderous. 

“Ooookay new topic!” Fred said loudly, looking at his twin in panic as they desperately tried to ignore the ticking bomb beside Harry they accidentally lit, “You lot had an inspected lesson yet?”

“No.” Hermione supplied immediately as Harry began to ‘pap’ Eridan on the back to get him to calm down. Now was not the time to re-explain mountain trolls to the very insulted, very intelligent and violent alien troll. “Have you?”

“Just now, before lunch,” said George, more relaxed now with the imminent threat taken care of. “Charms.” 

“What was it like?” Harry and Hermione asked together. Fred shrugged.

“Not that bad. Umbridge just lurked in the corner making notes on a clipboard. You know what Flitwick’s like, he treated her like a guest, didn’t seem to bother him at all. She didn’t say much. Asked Alicia a couple of questions about what the classes are normally like, Alicia told her they were really good, that was it.”

“I can’t see old Flitwick getting marked down,” said George, “he usually gets everyone through their exams all right.”

“I’m sure she’ll find a way.” Harry muttered bitterly. “She doesn’t like anything outside of a perfect Pureblood after all.”

“If she gets rid of Flitwwick I might actually kill her.” Eridan added casually, though soft enough to where only Harry could probably hear it. 

“I’m starting to think you should.” Harry mumbled back, earning a pleased, vicious grin that did not suit the human guise the troll wore. 

As it turned out, Harry’s patience with the toad would be tested right after lunch in Divination. Even as the woman’s presence silenced the class, he had to remind himself that landing a detention was bad, even if he wanted to see her reaction again to the Troll Taffy. He had Quidditch to think of, after all, and he didn’t want to get screamed at by Angelina again. 

Eridan’s words about war rang in his head as he watched Umbridge offhandedly belittle Trelawney in front of her class. Play the long game , the troll had emphasized, as angry as I get, sometimes you just havve to wwait thins out. Lettin the enemy rile you up means they’ll knoww that’s a wweak point.

Trelawney was proving this point by being obviously rattled by Umbridge’s presence, and Harry used this time to do some of the breathing exercises Eridan was teaching him for the mind-blocking thing. One day , he repeated to himself, one day I will go feral all up on this bitch. But not today.

…Wow, he was really getting the hang of Troll lingo. 

He stuck it out, though, and managed to survive without making any snide comments (even though there were perfect opportunities to) throughout the first inspection he’d been privy to. 

The next one was far more entertaining. Umbridge decided to inspect Professor McGonagall, which in any student’s opinion was the equivalent of dancing naked in the Forbidden Forest. She was bound to get eaten. Per request, Harry recorded the entire legendary ordeal on his glasses (watching the commentary may prove dangerous while it was happening, so he vowed to take a look once the class was over). There was something so very satisfying about seeing Umbridge get put in her place by the Transfiguration teacher multiple times through the course of an hour. Harry could only silently cheer her on with the rest of the class.

Curiouser was Umbridge’s arrival at Care of Magical Creatures class, which unfortunately lacked Hagrid. Harry wondered when the half-giant was to return, but Professor Grubbly-Plank was nice enough as it was. In fact, he was quite sure that the only thing Umbridge was trying to do was insult Hagrid as the previous professor (and as a ‘half-breed’ and loyal to Dumbledore, he’d imagine) as well as try to rile Harry himself up. Even as Malfoy and his bookends guffawed at the retelling of the incidents in the prior two years to Umbridge, Harry did end up giving it some thought. 

He liked Hagrid, he really did, but not having to worry about Blast-Ended Skrewts was a relief. It felt like a betrayal just thinking along those lines, so he shook his head of those thoughts and practiced his breathing exercises again, doing his best to not land himself needlessly in detention with the toad. 

From what he heard, Eridan had been doing the same, though mostly because he hated making his blood any shade other than his own. He supposed he understood in some weird way. It was an integral part of his identity — like Harry’s green eyes. Harry liked his eyes, especially after finding out he had his mother’s eyes. It was his only connection to her. He’d feel a bit lost if they became any other color. 

Despite being on their best behavior, both Harry and Eridan landed themselves in detention because even looking at High Inquisitor wrong was a sin punishable by hand-carving. Harry’s small respite was the Troll Taffy, which he’d tested jade green next. The sleek emerald hue matched his eyes. 

Curiously enough, the pain of getting cut was getting less and less with each detention. At first he thought that it was because of the repetition, but that wouldn’t make sense. After Eridan had joked about him getting a troll’s pain tolerance, Harry had Fred and George check in with the other Troll Taffy testers. The results really should’ve been expected, since a troll’s blood color determined their abilities and even lifespan. From a light psionic ability to being slightly stronger or getting along better with animals, there was some effect while their blood was a certain color. While the taffy was active, people gained low levels of troll ability. 

Harry wondered what the effects of prolonged exposure would be. Eridan… well, Eridan dove in to see this research first-hand after a mild freak-out that involved some words in Alternian that made a passing Flitwick take points off of Ravenclaw for. Now Harry understood why Eridan was dubious about changing blood color if it was this intrinsic to troll physiology. He idly wondered if the human blood potion already did something to the little troll, though. Snape did warn there might be side effects, even if there wasn’t anything obvious. But after finding that out, Eridan refused to take the red potion at all, citing that Umbridge had seen enough red in him for her lifetime.

Which really, really sounded like a threat.

Chapter Text

Alternia Interlude - Equius Zahhak

Snap!

Well, there went another bow.

Heaving another sigh, the Indigo-blooded troll gratefully accepted the glass of milk from his lusus, being especially careful not to break it.

Crack.

Ah, at least he was mostly done with drinking it this time. Nepeta insisted he should use a sturdier container, but the milk just didn't taste right if it wasn't in a glass. So it was simply something he had to deal with. His trusty lusus was more than adept at cleaning up his messes by now, anyway.

Grabbing the offered towel, he mopped the sweat off of him as best he could, getting the parts that got trapped under the carapace so that unsightly microorganisms didn't start a colony on his person. As a highblood, he had a standard to uphold. 

Speaking of which, he found his mind wandering to the robotics and devices that the royal seadweller of their friendgroup was doing. Equius dared not pry into the business of a member of the violet caste, but the amount that he asked for (along with the quality) was highly unusual. That and the fact that Ampora had stressed that these new traps and robotics were not for FLARP use. Generally, such a thing indicated a long sojourn away, or some terminal illness that would eventually leave the royalblood's Hive ripe for looting during other trolls' FLARP campaigns. 

It was revealed to be the former by his dear Moirail (or 'Meowrail', as she loved to call it), who had gotten the information from Vantas. Specifically, that said royalblood's sojourn was somehow very far off-planet, and yet also flying below Her Imperial Condescension's radar. 

Equius had felt fear that a higher blood knew so much about his fears with Nepeta (especially after what happened to that dirtblood, Nitram), and had hoped that the seadweller wouldn't use that information for capriciously violent purposes. Now.he was wondering if the violetblood was plotting something… traitorous. Or at least, attempting to gain some kind of advantage for the Heiress, who would eventually have to challenge the Empress for her crown.

It was something he might have to consider for the future. The trolls in the bizarre mobius disc that some of them may call ‘friendship’ used to be something he’d mostly ignored for the most part (apart from his moirail and his guilty flush-crush on Aradia). With the addition of ‘treason’ as a possibility among the royalbloods to the Empress…

A part of him wanted to reach out and give warning. As a highblood, he had a duty to serve the Empire to the best of his ability. 

But… what would happen to their group? Everyone remotely related to any sort of rebellion would be culled, or worse, made an example of. They may all be incriminated. Certainly, the royalbloods wouldn’t be spared, nor would the mysterious and loud Vantas, whom he knew Nepeta was flushed for. And what would happen to Nepeta? Would… would Equius be forced to kill her, just as his ancestor had killed hers? 

It was a notion too grim to bear. His hands shook as beads of sweat poured from between layers of chitin, coating the metal parts he held in a layer of deep blue. 

If instead, he supported the ‘new’ Empress when they took the throne (could they? Was it even possible to defeat a Tyrianblood who’d been around since their ancestors? Who’d survived countless other trolls of her caste vying for the throne?), Nepeta would be safe. They would all be safe. In the best case scenario, it would cement them in a position where they would be harder to cull in the new regime. Of course, this was all simply speculation. Maybe his imagination was getting the better of him. 

There was no reason for a violetblood to abandon the ideals of the Empire.

As the days passed, it seemed like everyone was waiting for something to happen. For some proverbial second shoe to drop. A week after Umbridge became the High Inquisitor, on yet another fateful Halloween, the new DADA Professor arrived.

Harry wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but there was something obviously off about the man sitting at the teacher’s desk for his first DADA lesson. Maybe it was the black cloak that was frayed and tattered at the edges, or the fact that the man’s robes were also all black, or the fact that he wore gloves. Maybe it was the hood that was drawn up and covered most things, or the fact that the only visible part under the void that could barely be called a hood was the creepy skull mask he wore. 

Or maybe, just maybe , it was the fact that despite everything about him pointing to the conclusion that their new professor was obviously a Death Eater, the man greeted the class in a genuinely cheerful manner. 

“Good morning class!” 

Harry’s eyebrow lifted as the new professor wrote out Professor Clay on the board and nothing else, turning instead to the students with his ghastly skull mask. No one could quite see his eyes, which was more disturbing given the juxtaposition of his personality.

“Now, I know my installment is a bit of a last-minute situation, but I do hope that we can all get along for the remainder of the year.” 

Professor Clay spoke with a cheerfulness that, unlike Umbridge, felt real. Almost innocent. Despite this, everyone was on edge, including the Slytherins (which Harry filed away for later). There was a silence in the classroom that the toad could only dream of — if only because the students weren’t sure how to treat this individual. 

There was an air of indifference to their fears from the Professor, who was now flipping through a stack of parchments. 

“In order to gauge where everyone is at in the current material, we’re going to have a quick pop quiz. I promise that this isn’t going to be a norm!”

Looking down at his parchment, Harry was surprised to see neither Umbridge’s Ministry-heavy bullshit nor any Pureblood and Death Eater propaganda. The questions actually reminded the green-eyed Gryffindor of Lupin’s teaching. A quick flicker over to his peers told Harry that they were thinking along the same lines. Shoulders lost a bit of their tension as some of the fear began to dissipate. The only sounds for a good while was the rustle of parchment and the scratching of quills. 

Every so often Harry would look up to regard Clay. He was just so unsettling looking, and yet so far he’d been polite and seemed to genuinely be excited to teach. Harry’s Potter-sense didn’t go off around him either. The antithesis of everything that was Dolores Umbridge. 

Professor Clay gathered up the parchments after the time was up, and leafed through them quickly. Harry wondered what spell that man used to make the eye-holes of his mask look like bottomless pits. Even the Death Eaters he saw in the graveyard and the Department of Mysteries weren’t able to do that. His clothing didn’t match up with theirs, either. And Death Eater masks were silver, not the bone-white of Clay’s.

“Well… that’s concerning.” Professor Clay’s warped voice brought Harry from his thoughts. “It appears your education this year has been… lacking. The good news is that I am here now to catch you all up. Why, if we get through to where we should be in a timely manner, I’ll even show you all something interesting! How about it, hm?”

That certainly got people’s attention. A murmur rippled through the classroom before Professor Clay clapped his hands together and brought silence with it. 

“Now! Let’s start with your knowledge on jinxes and counter-jinxes…”

The class progressed smoothly after that. Professor Clay certainly appeared to be someone who knew his stuff. He didn’t seem to be a plant from the Ministry since he was going against everything Umbridge had tried to instill in them for her portion of teaching, and if he was a Death Eater then he was doing an excellent job of hiding it (well, despite the… outfit).

Still, it was the general consensus that students preferred Clay over Umbridge (though that wasn’t saying much, Harry would’ve preferred Voldemort over that toad), even if they were wary of him. Even the Slytherins were on high alert around him, and that was rather amusing to see. 

Though the Hogwarts grapevine, the Legacy found out that 

Clay had been the only applicant. Since Umbridge could not handle the ‘vicious students’ as a professor, both the Ministry’s and the Hogwarts Board’s proverbial hands were tied up tighter than a damsel in distress on a railroad track from one of Dudley’s beloved cartoons. The staff were polite (as polite as some of them could be) but distant. Professor Clay seemed unperturbed by all of this, though it was hard to tell with the mask (which he still wore with that outfit of his even after the spooky night had long finished — so it wasn’t just some holiday costume). Harry got the odd feeling that the new DADA Professor was amused by all of it. 

As for the resident trolls, Eridan was under the impression that the Professor was hiding something, citing that the man was using “some kind a wwicked majicks unlike anythin I’vve evver wwitnessed before” to muffle his aura from the antenna-like troll horns. Aradia… Aradia stared at professor Clay with her wide, wide eyes and smiled with her sharp, sharp teeth. She didn’t say anything to him, or about him, keeping this air of mystery around her. Harry was sure she knew something, but couldn’t prove it outside of his Potter-sense. 

And thus, the days at Hogwarts progressed.

——— BY ORDER OF ———

The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts

All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded.

An Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.

Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).

No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.

Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.

Signed, 

Dolores Jane Umbridge

HIGH INQUISITOR

“She’s off her rocker, she is!” Ron moaned out as everyone read the fancy new sign in the Gryffindor Common Room. 

“So this is the purpose of a High Inquisitor…” Harry murmured more to himself, snapping a photo from his glasses. 

She did. 

Angelina was furious when she stomped towards them, but there wasn’t much she could ask for since Harry really was on his best behavior. Malfoy was incredibly smug that he was in the toad’s good books, and constantly tried to goad members of the Legacy into some kind of scuffle. He was low enough to even offhandedly mention Neville’s parents, and from that point on the usually more timid Gryffindor was on the ‘let Eridan go feral’ bandwagon with Harry.

Another surprising addition to the ‘going feral’ brigade appeared to be none other than Professor Snape, who Harry had the pleasure of witnessing the toad inspect Potions while he was in it. He’d set his glasses to record what should turn out to be a legendary smackdown. At least the members of the Legacy would understand. Despite this, he tried his best to keep track of his own potion, hoping he’d be able to play back to video later and relish in their expressions. 

“…You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?” Umbridge asked Snape eventually after commenting how Strengthening Potions should be taken off the syllabus. 

“Yes,” Snape replied quietly. 

“But you were unsuccessful?” 

Snape’s lip curled. 

“Obviously.”

Harry almost wheezed into his cauldron. Umbridge’s comment did make him wonder why Dumbledore never made him DADA Professor. He was pretty good back at the Department of Mysteries. Maybe it was because of the curse? 

Well, if anything, at least he was a good teacher for Potions, even if he was strict. He’d rather Snape in Potions than Defense. Perhaps that was because Lupin had been the best damn Professor they’d had in the subject, and it would seem traitorous to imagine Snape in such a spot. That and Harry had disliked the damn stunt Snape pulled on making them do that werewolf essay. 

Somehow he managed to not bungle the Potion by the end of the class. Snape still looked as if he wanted to strangle him, but he also looked like he wanted to strangle Umbridge. Harry mentally listed him as a solid ‘maybe’ for the ‘go feral’ brigade. 

The toad’s reign over Hogwarts began showing its power over the staff as well — something Harry realized after witnessing the Divination Professor have a mental breakdown in class. Apparently Umbridge had put Trelawney on probation. As she stormed around the classroom, he could hear her muttering threats under her breath. 

“…may well choose to leave… the indignity of it… on proba- tion… we shall see… how she dares…”

“It would be most unfortunate if she befell a terrible fate.” Harry mumbled under his breath, mostly to Ron, but it seemed Trelawney had heard him along with Lavender and Pavarti. 

Their vicious expressions made him wonder if he should start recruiting people into a little rebellion. She was already punishing them as it was. He’d have to give it some thought. 

Professor Clay had yet to be inspected — probably because he was still new and it was too early for anyone to formulate a proper opinion on him. Those who went to his office hours (usually Ravenclaws or students worried about their OWLs and NEWTs) had stated that he was pleasant, informative, and made an excellent cup of tea. 

Well, at least he wasn’t tossing around Unforgivables or forcing children to write with blood quills. The Troll Taffy could only do so much, and it was worrying as it was to know that even the little firsties bought the candy to make their otherwise traumatic detentions more fun. 

The most worrisome thing to Harry, though, was that Eridan was getting more high-strung as the days passed. Umbridge had been keeping him in detention quite often now, sniffing in disdain at his violet blood (which thankfully could now be explained away by the taffy, Harry himself used the Green Apple Glam toffee whenever he had to scar himself for her entertainment). It was only a matter of time before the troll in disguise would go feral. At this point Harry was impressed by Eridan’s self-control as it was — if the other trolls’ comments were anything to go by. He felt rather touched that Eridan cared enough not to “do a dainty pirouette off the fuckin handle” on impulse. And impressed, since despite losing house points by simply existing around Umbridge, he was still top of his class. 

He’d even overheard a couple students having expressed disappointment over the cancellation of the History of Magic study group Eridan led (since he was far better at explaining the material than Binns) that Umbridge refused to allow continuation of. 

Luckily for the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, it appeared Professor McGongall went straight to Dumbledore to make sure Umbridge allowed them to play. The team had cheered as they prepared for their first game against Slytherin. Flitwick had done the same for certain study groups, including Eridan’s. 

But at the present, Harry’s eyes were closed, the curtains of his bed shut tight and layers of privacy and silencing wards that Hermione had taught him cast on them. Through his glasses, Eridan’s voice filtered through Trollian. 

“Remember to think of somthin’ mundane, or better yet, constant that you can focus on. But nothin’ personal.”

His brows knitted together in concentration. He could do this, having done so many times after panicking about it at first. Flying was out, since Quidditch had too many personal ties. Soaks with a golden snitch. What could he think of that wasn’t too personal? 

He’d ended up thinking of a crackling fireplace. It could be from the Gryffindor Common Room, or the Weasley’s place. Most wizarding homes had a fireplace for at least the Floo system, so it wasn’t the most personal thing in the world. Harry watched the flames flicker in his mind as his breathing slowed. 

“Noww, imagine a space that you are comfortable wwith, an’ make it your owwn.”

The Gryffindor Common Room rose around him. 

“Make a place to put your memories. Hide awway the ones you don’t wwant interlopers to find wwhen they come digging.”

“Why can’t I just make walls to keep them out?”

“Wwe wwill be, but wwalls can fall if the attack is strong enough or if you are unable to keep them up. The first thin’ is to be organized , or at least keepin’ certain thin’s in the front so that time is wwasted on those instead of on the thin’s you don’t wwant found.”

“I’m not the neatest person…” Harry murmured, watching the Common Room go in disarray as he threw certain memories he didn’t care if people saw or not on the top, beginning to hide the ones he didn’t in the ways he knew how — and others in ways Eridan coached him through. 

By the time he was done, the only thing with him in the room was that nasty box containing Voldemort’s Parasite. He said as much to the troll on the ‘phone’ as he kicked it into a closet under the stairs that would usually lead to the boy dormatories. 

“Wwe’ll get to it later. Time for my favvorite part — wwalls an’ defenses.”

“What kind of defenses?” Harry ventured. He didn’t need to see Eridan to know the vicious expression that just crossed his face. 

“Wwhatevva you’d wwant.”

It took a few more (consecutive) nights for Harry to get the hang of ‘organizing’ his memories and thoughts into his own version of controlled chaos. He felt he was making good headway on creating his barriers which consisted of multiple layers of thick brickset barricades resembling the walls of Hogwarts. 

As for his defenses… Harry got help on ideas for a few of them, and the others were things he’d faced in the past. If someone managed to get past the outer walls, they’d have to deal with bear-traps laying in wait below their feet. If that didn’t deter them, the blast-ended skrewts might past the next wall, or the dementors on the third wall. 

Truth be told, Harry’s mind (mind-core? mind house?) wasn’t even behind those walls. The castle was a distraction, which was an idea the troll gave him. To get to the real space, one had to jump into the moat that Harry had added crocodiles, mermaids, and a giant squid to. He was rather proud of that piece of ingenuity. And if those didn’t catch the interlopers, Harry’s mind-version of a certain vicious seadweller would. 

Eridan was amused at that last bit. 

These sessions did help immensely, though, with the management of the scar pains Harry had been getting all summer. He chalked it up to the Parasite being in a box now and not constantly invading his mind whenever it damn well pleased, and now the pain and memories were more… removed. Which was good, because what happened in the Department of Mysteries made Harry think that the bastard of a Dark Lord was using it to manipulate him. Even if Lord Noseless didn’t completely understand the ‘how’. It also helped with preventing him from flipping his shit at every single ridiculous law-sludge that Umbridge vomited out of her mouth.

It was during one of these sessions that he was going around his mindspace, absentmindedly checking his new defenses with pride. The line on Trollian connected to Eridan was quiet, though he knew the troll was still there as every so often he’d hear the sound of the Ravenclaw turning a page of a book. Satisfied with his work for the time being, Harry turned his attention to the box he hid in the cupboard under the stairs. 

Kneeling down, he pressed his hand on the box, focusing on the connections like he had at Grimmauld place. He figured a little bit of practice looking for other Parasites wouldn’t hurt. To his surprise, five eerie, black tendrils stretched out from the box, connecting the Parasite to its brethren. Five! That meant that other than Harry, there were four other Parasites! 

Harry was careful not to touch any of the tendrils, knowing that one of them was a direct line to the man who killed his parents, just trying to feel for distance and direction. The first four branched far off into the distance beyond where he could sense. Phew, well at least Moldyshorts wasn’t anywhere near here… hopefully. 

Green eyes widened as he considered the last one, its angle stranger than the others. And then… he realized he could feel where it ended. Slamming the box back in the cupboard, Harry jolted out of his mindspace and nearly out of his bed. 

“Wwhoa. Wwhat’s goin’ on?” Eridan’s voice asked from Harry’s glasses. 

“There’s… there’s a Parasite hidden somewhere in Hogwarts.” The Boy-Who-Lived stammered out, his skin having broken out into a cold sweat. For a moment, the other end was silent.

“…Wwell shit.”

“It’s somewhere here!” Harry whispered under his trusty invisibility cloak. There was a dull pain in his scar as he tried to use it the same way he had at Grimmauld Place. 

Harry had posted his findings the night before on the memo for the Legacy, causing a bit of a stir. They did their best to hide it from any prying eyes, but little could be done about the nervousness of knowing that a piece of Voldemort’s soul was camping at Hogwarts without anyone else’s knowledge up until now. It was decided that the hunt for it should begin as soon as possible — and as clandestine as possible.

“Mate, are you sure?” Ron asked, both on Prefect duty and Marauder’s Map duty since its current owner was currently trying to focus on zeroing in on his target. “The Map doesn’t show any secret rooms or passageways here…”

It was just the two of them in the hallway — Ron because he was a Prefect and could make excuses about having to do his rounds and Harry because he was the only one who had a built-in Voldetector. Harry’s hand brushed along the stone wall, feeling both confused and frustrated. The dull pain in his head was growing. That was a good sign, right?

"It's definitely around here!" was his insistent response. But alas, there didn't seem to be a way of getting there.

"Maybe he hid it in the wall? Or behind a tapestry?" Ron offered, tapping his own wand against the brick while periodically glaring at the map. 

Hermione was making her rounds on the third floor so it would take her time to get to the seventh floor, which they were on now. But there wasn’t a large window before they ran the risk of getting caught by a teacher — or worse, the High Inquisitor and her student goons. 

“I’m checking for that, but there doesn’t seem to be anything around!” Harry hissed, tapping at the bricks with his wand. It worked for Diagon Alley, right?

Nothing. 

Eventually they had to abandon their search that night. 

His scar dully throbbed annoyingly all through breakfast the next morning. His eyes blearily took in the scrolling messages popping up in Trollian from his glasses, momentarily flickering over to where Eridan sat. Despite having his initial reservations about how the little alien bugger was going to fare socially, Harry was happy to see that Eridan was amassing his small army of study-loving students. Perhaps concerning in the long run, but better than him being ostracized by his human peers. Harry knew how that felt. 

The frustration of knowing there was a piece of a Dark Lord's soul hiding in the castle coupled with Malfoy being a tool, Umbridge being a hag, and Dumbledore ignoring him was finally getting to Harry. He now understood Eridan's itchy trigger finger when it came to minor inconveniences. By the end of the day, he was dragging, barely able to keep his head up. The black-haired Gryffindor curled up in an armchair in the Common Room, trying to figure out how the damn Parasite was hiding itself. It was warm and comfortable in his armchair before the fire,

with the rain still beating heavily on the windowpanes and Crook- shanks purring and the crackling of the flames. He could vaguely hear Ron and Hermione say something about Prefect duties…

At some point, he must’ve nodded off, because the thing he knew, the candles had all been extinguished. The Common Room was mostly dark, but even now Harry could tell something was tending to the fireplace which had the barest of embers. 

“…Dobby?” Harry asked incredulously, taking in the sight of the house elf.

Dobby’s large, pointed ears were now sticking out from beneath what looked like all the hats that Hermione had ever knitted. He was wearing one on top of the other so that his head seemed elongated by two or three feet, and also was wearing several scarves and innumerable socks so that his feet looked far too big for his body. Quite the sight to be sure. The elf whirled around in surprise.

“Harry Potter, sir!” Dobby cried with a salute, which made the tower of hats teeter precariously.

“It’s good to see you!” Harry exclaimed, sitting up better in the chair to see the house elf proper and looking at his woolen layers. “Er… have you been taking all the clothes Hermione’s left out?”

“Oh no, sir!” replied Dobby happily, “Dobby has been taking some for Winky too, sir.”

“Yeah, how is Winky?” asked Harry curiously. He hadn’t thought much about the Crouch family house elf much with everything that’s been happening.

Dobby’s ears drooped slightly.

“Winky is still drinking lots, sir,” he said sadly, his enormous round green eyes, large as tennis balls, downcast. “She still does not care for clothes, Harry Potter. Nor do the other house-elves. They’ve come back to Gryffindor Tower now that the hats and scarves have stopped, sir, but Dobby still does most of the cleaning as some are afraid the clothes will come back. But Dobby does not mind, sir, for he always hopes to meet Harry Potter and tonight, sir, he has got his wish!” Dobby sank into a deep bow again.

Well, it was a good thing Hermoine had that talk with the house elves then. Cleaning the tower sounded like a ridiculous amount of work for one elf. Still, it was nice to see Dobby again. The frown that Harry had on his face hearing about Winky faded at Dobby’s antics.

“But Harry Potter does not seem happy.” Dobby went on, straightening up again and looking timidly at Harry. “Dobby heard him muttering in his sleep. Was Harry Potter having bad dreams?”

“Not exactly.” murmured Harry, yawning and rubbing his eyes. “Just a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

The elf surveyed Harry out of his vast, orblike eyes. Then he said very seriously, his ears drooping, “Dobby wishes he could help Harry Potter, for Harry Potter set Dobby free and Dobby is much, much happier now…”

“Heh.” Harry laughed out, a wry smile on his face. “You wouldn’t happen to know of any secret rooms on the seventh floor that could be used for hiding things, would you?”

He expected the elf ’s smile to vanish, his ears to droop; he expected him to say that this was impossible, or else that he would try, but his hopes were not high… What he had not expected was for Dobby to give a little skip, his ears waggling happily, and clap his hands together.

“Dobby does, sir! Dobby heard tell of it from the other house-elves when he came to Hogwarts, sir. It is known by us as the Come and Go Room, sir, or else as the Room of Requirement!”

Harry’s jaw dropped. 

“Wha… really?” He couldn’t believe it was that simple. “Why’s it called that?”

“Because it is a room that a person can only enter,” explained Dobby seriously, “when they have real need of it. Sometimes it is there, and sometimes it is not, but when it appears, it is always equipped for the seeker’s needs. Dobby has used it, sir,” said the elf, dropping his voice and looking guilty, “when Winky has been very drunk. He has hidden her in the Room of Requirement and he has found antidotes to butterbeer there, and a nice elf-sized bed to settle her on while she sleeps it off, sir… And Dobby knows Mr. Filch has found extra cleaning materials there when he has run short, sir, and —”

“— and if you really needed a bathroom,” interrupted Harry, eyes wide, suddenly remembering something Dumbledore had said at the Yule Ball the previous Christmas, “would it fill itself with chamber pots?”

“Dobby expects so, sir,” said Dobby, nodding earnestly. “It is a most amazing room, sir.”

“How many people know about it?” was Harry’s curious question.

“Very few, sir. Mostly people stumbles across it when they needs it, sir, but often they never finds it again, for they do not know that it is always there waiting to be called into service, sir.”

“Can you show me where it is?” Excitement coursed through his veins. 

“Of course, Harry Potter, sir!” cheered Dobby, looking delighted at Harry’s enthusiasm, “We could go now, if you like!”

For a moment Harry could hear the words of Hermione and McGonagall warning him not to be reckless. And he would have loved to listen to them, really , but he’d been on his best behavior and was still being forced to carve “I must not tell lies” on his hand (the words now a lovely green with parts of violet, if ignored where it came from one might have mistaken it for a tattoo). No, he needed to mobilize. Even a small victory. And who knows? This Room of Requirement may come in handy later. 

So instead he scurried up to his trunk and grabbed his invisibility cloak, the dorm still empty as fifth years had a curfew of nine o’clock. He sent a message through Trollian before turning to Dobby.

“Alright, show me the way!”

The recipient of previously mentioned message met Harry and Dobby from his hiding place behind one of the many armor sets that lined the halls, glowing yellow eyes (with a hint of violet) were a stark contrast in the dark. His small frame helped with the concealment, as did what Harry assumed was his natural stealth skills as a troll. His potion had worn off some time ago since he was supposed to be in his dorm at this time of the night, and the Gryffindor had an inkling that the Alternian was happy for a break from having a human guise. 

In his defense, Dobby did not freak out over Eridan, nor did he make much of a fuss about his sudden appearance. Harry had motioned the troll over and they had simply pressed on silently as a group of three. Absent-mindedly Harry wondered if he should supply Dobby with access to Trollian. That was something he’d have to ask Eridan later.

He checked the Map again. Teachers on other sides of the castle, students on the lower floors or outside. High Horse Inquisitor in her office. Coast was clear. 

They hurried along the corridor, Dobby leading the way, to a stretch of blank wall opposite an enormous tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy’s foolish attempt to train trolls for the ballet.

“Wwhat are those disgustin’ creatures?” Eridan muttered as narrow eyes regarded the tapestry.

“That’s a mountain troll.” Harry whispered, trying not to laugh at the Alternian troll’s look of utter disgust and offense as they watched a moth-eaten troll paused in his relentless clubbing of the would-be ballet teacher to stare back at the other kind of troll. “Probably not related to you lot in any way. ‘cept maybe the gray skin.”

Before Eridan could say something scathing, Dobby spoke up. “Now Harry Potter sir’s got to walk past this bit of wall three times, thinking hard on what Harry Potter needs.” 

“Alright. Good work Dobby!” Harry smiled at the vibrating house elf. “Thank you.” 

They watched as Dobby vanished with a quiet pop , leaving the two of them alone in the hallway.

“Needs?” Eridan echoed the elf’s words, tilting his head to the side.

“Yeah… I’ll give it a go first.” Harry murmured, walking over to the same damn wall he’d been tapping at the night before, turning sharply at the window just beyond the blank stretch of wall, then at the man-size vase on its other side. His fists were clenched as he stared ahead of him, concentrating hard.

I need to find the Parasite connected to my head… I need to find its hiding place… I need to destroy this Parasite…

Just like last night, nothing seemed to happen. A growl of frustration came from Harry, a guttural kind that veered slightly away from human. Huh. Maybe he should lay off the Troll Taffy for a little bit. 

“Wwhat did you think of?” Eridan whispered, dragging him from his brooding.

“That I needed to find the Parasite.” He answered immediately. The troll shook his head.

“It might not havve been wwhat your Parasite’s owwner wwould havve done.” Eridan murmured, fixing Harry with that gaze that he’d use when explaining warfare to the older teen. “Wwhat wwould he havve thought of? But remember, you also havve to need it.”

Jade eyes blinked as things clicked into place. He stared down the troll.

“Got anythin you need to hide?” At Eridan’s wry question, Harry checked the Map again. He wondered if the idea of hiding the Map would be enough, but he still wanted it with him—

Footprints with Flich and Mrs. Norris’ names were rapidly approaching their location. 

“Uh. Yeah. Us. Now!” was the harsh whisper. The two of them began to pace the wall together with a genuine desire.

We need a hiding place… we need a place where we won’t be found… a place to hide a thirteen-year-old sea-dwelling troll…

After the third round, a highly polished door appeared on the wall. They rushed inside with seconds to spare, darting behind a mountain of broken furniture and into a large wardrobe. In the dark, Harry could see the glow of a troll’s eyes even better, and noticed that the horns had a slight bioluminescence to them as well. He’d given the Map to Eridan, who could see perfectly in the dark. Slitted eyes darted the page, and Harry only breathed a sigh of relief when the slits became rounder. 

“Coast is clear.” 

They were able to get a better look at the room now that the imminent threat was gone. The room was the size of a large cathedral, whose high windows were sending shafts of light down upon what looked like a city with towering walls made of everything ever hidden here. Eridan and Harry glanced at each other. Matching, vicious grins appeared on their faces. 

Oh. Hell. Yes .

They wandered aimlessly for a little bit — too curious for their own good on what else could be hidden here — going down alleyways and roads bordered by teetering piles of broken and damaged furniture, stowed away, perhaps, to hide the evidence of mishandled magic, or else hidden by castle-proud house-elves. There were thousands and thousands of books (no doubt banned or graffitied or stolen), winged catapults and Fanged Frisbees (some still with enough life in them to hover halfheartedly over the mountains of other forbidden items), and chipped bottles of congealed potions.

“Wwoww.” Eridan breathed, head swiveling as he took in the sights, doing his best not to linger on the books. His eyes flickered between what looked like dragon eggshells and a cabinet of corked bottles whose contents still shimmered evilly. “This place is a treasure trovve…”

“Must’ve amassed a wealth of hidden things from generations upon generations.” Harry mumbled, distracted by a heavy, bloodstained ax, “Some contraband, probably a fuckton of Dark artifacts…” And probably some more normal but sentimental stuff, seeing the amount of hats, jewels, and cloaks. Not all of them might be cursed.

“Do you feel the Parasite here?” the troll asked, poking at some rusty swords.

At this, Harry closed his eyes, once again trying to turn on his Voldetector. His scar began to flare up in response. “Yeah, it’s definitely somewhere in here…”

With the Ravenclaw hot on his heels, Harry hurried forward into one of the many alleyways between all this hidden treasure. He turned right past an enormous stuffed troll (which Eridan stopped to kick over), ran on a short way, took a left turn near a pile of desks, and finally paused beside a large cupboard that seemed to have had acid thrown at its blistered surface.

“It’s around here somewhere…” the living Parasite host muttered, opening the cupboard to find only a cage with a five legged skeleton. “Not in here…”

His eyes landed on a table that contained amongst its wares a bust of an ugly old warlock, some wings, and a dingy tiara. As soon as he laid eyes on it, he felt the Parasite connect to it.

“Huh. Didn’t think Moldyshorts was the type for jewelery.” Harry commented with a slow blink. “I’ll be honest, I thought the locket was a one-off thing.”

The familiar whine of Ahab’s Crosshairs sounded from behind him, the teen diving out of the way as the blast of white light obliterated everything on the table with the utmost disrespect. Harry clamped his hands to his ears at the scream of rage and fear from the tiara, which had no way of retaliating against the power that the Amporas wielded. With a soft clink the blue gemstone (polished by gunfire? Rifle-light?) that had sat at the center of the crown dropped to the ground, its holder nonexistent now. 

Harry didn’t need to turn around to know that the troll had a predatory snarl on his face. It probably helped that he got to wreck something, but it definitely wasn’t enough to curb his bloodlust. 

“Well… three down, three to go…” Harry sighed out, picking up the brilliant sapphire and studying it. “Not counting the one in my head, though. I’d prefer not to get obliterated like that, to be honest.”

Eridan let out a short cackle, before turning contemplative, mumbling something about Arithmancy and the insanity of a snake-faced Dark Lord. Harry figured it was best not to bother him in his musings, instead noting (with surprise) that the gem in his hand was completely intact. He thought about pocketing it (a little trophy for his Dark Lord hunting efforts was deserved, right?), but instead put it on another table. Best to leave some things alone. 

“Wwe should go before people find out wwe’re missin.” Eridan’s voice dragged Harry from his thoughts. 

Harry let out a yawn as the adrenaline started to wear off. “Yeah, I’m off to bed. Don’t get caught on your way back.”

“I wwon’t.” The little troll rolled his eyes, the dark circles under them as prominent as they were the day they all met.

They went their separate ways, getting back to their respective dorms without much issue. Harry had to take a few detours to avoid some less-than-ideal meet-cutes, but he didn’t feel all that sorry for missing out on accidentally stumbling into Malfoy. 

The Legacy was notified the next morning of what had transpired the night before. True to form, Hermione descended upon him with all the leftover rage from the failed SPEW, admonishing him for his recklessness. Ron was merely upset that he wasn’t included in the hunt (but was mollified when Harry promised to take him there the following night to test what else the Room could do), and the others were just relieved that a piece of Voldemort was no longer in the castle. 

Nights were now spent sneaking up to the seventh floor to test out the Room of Requirement (shortened to RoR in Trollian for ease and to troll the trolls, haha). For the Legacy, it became a place where they could gather in person without being caught out by the Toad. For Eridan (when he went on his own in the dead of the night), it became useful in helping curb his murderous tendencies by giving him a hunting grounds to blast mountain trolls (his new most-hated being next to the cardigan-wearing croakbeast). 

All in all, the Room was a godsend. Harry ordered a special pair of colorful, wooly socks for Dobby as thanks. The elf was ecstatic. 

Deciding to take the risk, Eridan had also placed the Veil in the Room to let his Alternian and Earth friends have a long-overdue meetup. Feferi had flung her arms around the other seadweller as soon as he met back up with her on Alternia. After Eridan decided to introduce one at a time initially to account for the culture shock, his Moirail was the first to volunteer. She hugged and squished the cheeks of every single member of the Legacy, the Room taking the shape of The Three Broomsticks to show her an outside part of this new world. Next came Karkat, who felt shocked at first finding out that there was an entire species with his blood color. Since he’d already talked to the Legacy online, getting used to them being real people in the flesh wasn’t as hard. 

At some point Aradia had floated in using her non-ghost and very-alive form, chatting to Luna as if nothing had changed other than the fact that her horns were now candy-corn colored like the others and her body was opaque. 

The three of them chatted with the Legacy for the first time in person, the humans showing the trolls aspects of their culture from within this hidden magical room. Even Aradia was fascinated (as she couldn’t leave the castle when she was astral projecting) by the quaintness of Hogsmeade (even if only simulated). Eridan promised them that once the croakbeast issue was resolved, they should be able to wander around with a little more ease without a human finding out what was going on. They all seemed excited at the prospect. 

When the time came for Eridan to drink that human guise potion, Feferi and Karkat howled in laughter (much to Eridan’s displeasure). 

With mention of perhaps showing some of the other members of the friend group this small taste of Earth, more names were added to the Legacy’s trollian (though on a new, separate memo called “The Interplanetary Exchange”. The third wave of added trolls were much larger than the second, having Sollux Captor (twinArmageddons), Nepeta Leijon (arsenicCatnip), Tavros Nitram (adiosToreador), and Kanaya Maryam (grimAuxiliatrix). It wasn’t lost on the Legacy that these trolls encompassed the ‘lower half’ of the hemospectrum. But they were nice enough, though they had their own odd quirks. Harry supposed they felt the same about humans. 

Perhaps it was due to this newfound excitement that led to Harry forgetting to check the map. 

They had left the Room later than usual, having gotten caught up with conversation and planning on what else they could bring for the trolls to experience. After turning a corner on the fourth floor, they nearly collided with a dark figure. Well, Harry did collide with the figure, the both of them stumbling back and revealing the stranger as none other than Professor Clay.

“Ah! Pardon me!” Clay’s odd, filtered voice reverberated through the hall, “I should have watched where I was going. Are you alright? It’s rather late for students to be out wandering.”

Harry was about to open his mouth to speak when a familiar hem, hem made his blood run cold. He could feel the others freeze behind him as Umbridge arrived behind Clay, looking for all the world like the cat who caught the canary. She surveyed all of them with her dark, beady eyes. Much like before, Harry saw her best as a monster that had a taste for children. 

“Well, well. Students out of bed!” the toad tittered out, her falsetto fooling no one. “And in such large numbers… a gathering like this is highly suspicious, don’t you think Mr. Potter?” He didn’t even try to defend himself, knowing that anything he said would be used against him anyway. Besides, Umbridge powered on without a response with: “I do believe all of you will need to have proper punishment. This sort of behavior should be nipped in the bud as quickly as possible! Don’t you think so, Mortimer?”

Professor Clay had paused before tilting his head slightly. “Quite so, Dolores.” he began slowly, regarding the rather terrified group before him (Harry had the distinct impression that he was choosing his words carefully). “They are wandering the halls rather late. Perhaps I should take care of the punishment, however.” Umbridge’s lips widened into an uncomfortable smile. It looked like she was going to say something else, but Clay continued. “I wouldn’t want to put too much on your plate, Dolores, and I did run into them first. Quite literally, in fact. I would say they fall under my responsibility.”

“I shall trust you to give proper punishment to them, then.” She practically croaked out, all her falsetto having left her. With a nod of assent from Clay, she went on her way. 

The enigmatic DADA Professor turned to the Legacy. “Return to your dorms tonight, and report to me after classes tomorrow for your detentions.”

“Yes, sir.” was the small chorus from the teens, shoulders sagging in slight relief at not dealing with Umbridge’s detentions. 

Professor Clay nodded once, then swept out of the halls. Feeling like they’d just dodged a bullet (but gained the unneeded eyes of the toad… luckily they weren’t caught on the seventh floor), the Legacy headed to their dorms without much conversation. Outward, conversation, that is. The memo pinged as they discussed Umbridge’s possible next moves, Clay’s possible detentions, and telling the trolls on Alternia they may have to lay low for a while. 

The trolls weren’t happy, but they understood. Perhaps more than humans would. 

Harry had been to nearly every single iteration of the DADA professor’s office during his time at Hogwarts. How one room could drastically change so much between owners had always surprised him. From Lockhart’s portraits and books about himself, to Remus’ dark creatures, to fake Moody’s dark detectors and foe-glass the year before and even Umbridge’s frilly pink and kitten plate nightmare, somehow this was the most normal he’d seen it. 

Still in his tattered cloak and weird skull mask, Professor Clay beckoned the rather large group of students in. They Legacy was immediately corralled into a set of large red and gold armchairs that vaguely resembled the ones in the Gryffindor common room. The rest of the room was quite simple, with a few cabinets and bookshelves that held tomes on Defensive Spells, some other odd trinkets like small statues and relics, and oddly enough — muggle board games. 

Well, that might rule out the ‘Death Eater’ idea. 

“Now, do you all know what you did wrong?” Professor Clay began seriously, pouring tea for all of them off a rather delicate bone set, which was rather ironic in Harry’s eyes. He sat them around his desk — with himself in a black armchair with dull gold accents — the lot of them making a wobbly ellipse. 

As usual, Hermione was the first to speak. “We were out of bed past curfew.”

To their surprise, Clay shook his head. “Not exactly. While yes, I’d say skulking around at such an hour is generally frowned upon and as a Professor I must uphold such rules, that is not what you did wrong .”

“Sir, I’m not sure we understand.” Neville bravely spoke up, regarding the adult with wary curiosity.

“Well, I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, Mr. Longbottom. Far be it I to not encourage the idea of sneaking around in the dark unseen — especially if such things become necessary in your futures. No, developing such a skill is something I would rather encourage. If done properly .”

“But wwe wwere caught.” Eridan’s voice spoke out at the same time as Fred and George, all with tones of dawning comprehension. 

Clay nodded. “You were caught. Worse, you were caught by the worst possible person to be caught by, especially from what I’ve witnessed. Hence you must now be punished for your oversight.” His tone was somehow teetering between serious and amused. 

Something bubbled inside Harry at his words. Relief, knowing that Clay was on their side. Confusion, as to why. Despite his appearance, Clay reminded him more of Lupin than Moody or Quirrelmort (or even Snape). 

“So what now?” Ginny asked, voicing everyone’s thoughts.  

Professor Clay seemed to jolt, as if in his own thoughts for a moment. He clapped his hands together. 

“Glad you asked!” Clay responded cheerfully (too cheerfully), “Follow me!”

The Legacy was led out of the office, down the stairs, past the Great Hall, and out of the castle. It was only when they began walking in the direction of the Forbidden Forest did their stomachs drop. Harry recalled the detention he served in there during his first year — the first time he’d encountered Voldemort.

“Professor…” Hermione began, but the adult waved his hand.

“Don’t worry, I will explain when we get there. You will not be in any grave danger, I assure you.”

They stopped at the mouth of the forest, the trees looming over them in the dimming light of the late afternoon. Clay turned to them, pointing to an opening that now held a lantern-post. 

“This… is your endpoint.” Clay stated, as if that explained everything, “You are to return to this place to signify the proper completion of your detention.”

“Return…?” Ron repeated in confusion. 

At this, Clay beckoned them to follow him once more. This time he passed the post and began to lead them deeper into the forest. There was a murmur of apprehension. Clay took them in confusing twists and turns, the setting Sun not yet below the horizon when they reached a small clearing. The Professor regarded them once more. 

“Your goal for tonight is to reach the lamp-post from this place.” Clay explained, and Harry felt fear course through his veins. “Don’t worry, I do not expect you to be successful tonight. You will repeat this exercise for your next detentions until you are thrice successful.”

This time, Harry’s mind began to tick. Was Clay trying to teach them something?

“You wwant us to get familiar wwith the forest.” Eridan intoned, eyes narrowing, “But wwhat happens if wwe get split up?”

“I’m sure you have ways of communicating with each other that do not require being near one another.” Clay replied, making them freeze. He knew. “But if you encounter anything far beyond your ability and are ever in grave danger, I will intervene. The purpose of this exercise, as Mr. Ampora-Black has pointed out, is to become familiar with this forest. It’s paths and dangers — and how to deal with them.”

“Why?” Ron asked in confusion.

“Because he wants us to be able to make the forest our tool, and in case we ever need to hide.” Luna spoke up, her gaze still serene. She did not appear to be afraid, either. 

“Why? ” Ginny insisted.

“Because you might need to in the near future.” Clay intoned seriously, before clapping his hands again and reverting to a more jovial tone. “You have until dinnertime. Chop chop! Off you go!” 

With a swish of his cloak, Clay vanished into thin air. 

It took a few seconds to ground themselves to their situation. Professor Clay knew more than he let on. And what he just did looked neither like apparating nor a portkey…

But soon the noises of the forest took their attention, as did the knowledge of their time limit, and the Legacy of Regulus Black sprung to action. Eridan took the lead on tactics, as that kind of thing was his territory, while Harry used his past experience to get everyone on the same page. Ron took command when land-based strategies were needed, Fred and George used an arsenal of pranks, and Neville used his knowledge of the native flora to get them out of some sticky situations. Ginny had begun to memorize certain paths that they had run into again, Hermione used all her learned knowledge to spot weaknesses and possible solutions, and Luna’s affinity with creatures had gotten them out of more than one encounter without a fight.

They encountered centaurs (who seemed perturbed at their presence but Hermione managed to convince them to let them pass), Acromantula (which Ron and Eridan began blasting with great prejudice), and veered around Thestrals (which Luna treated as if they were old friends). 

True to form, Professor Clay came to get them when they ran into something they couldn’t handle, but would stay back and allow the teens to overcome their limits and work as a team when they had a handle on things, transporting them all to the mouth of the forest where the lantern-post was when time ran out. By the end of it, the Legacy was almost excited for their next detention with Professor Clay. 

And yet, the morning after that—

The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions, and removals of privileges as may have been ordered by other staff members.

Signed, 

Cornelius Fudge  

Minister of Magic 

Order of Merlin First Class

At that moment, they knew it was personal.

Needless to say, the Legacy was completely on board with the idea. Even Hermione, who normally would’ve been upset at the idea of going against authority, had been roped in. Luna and the Gryffindor members jumped on the wagon immediately. Hermione, no longer knitting scarves and hats for the house elves (after having been chewed out by them about forcing her human ideals on them… Eridan’s arrival may have helped her understand their anger), focused her efforts on creating things for a possible internal rebellion. 

As the time passed, it became increasingly obvious that Malfoy and his goons had been acquired by Umbridge to try goading Harry and members of the Legacy into reacting with violence. From offhand comments to the disastrous “Weasley is our King” song he whipped up that lost them the Gryffindor/Slytherin game, Malfoy was really in his element of being a right pain in the ass. The worst was when he made fun of Sirius in front of Eridan, along with making fun of Mr. Weasley and Harry’s mother. Honestly, it was a miracle the ferret was still alive. Malfoy, Crabbe,  and Goyle were still beaten within an inch of their lives – landing the Slytherins in the Hospital Wing and Eridan, Harry, Fred, and George in Umbridge’s crosshairs. 

Harry and the Twins ended up being banned from Quidditch for life (for life?!) and Eridan ended up getting banned from his own study group, causing outrage. While the Gryffindor team raged, the troll, however, turned introspective. There was a silence about him, even as Hermione created a charmed parchment for people to sign, the names piling up from those who have been targeted or affected by Umbridge and her regime (which was growing worse with each passing day). 

Harry wasn’t sure what was going on inside his little alien head, but a quietly murderous Eridan could not be a good sign. 

Eridan Ampora was royalty. 

It was undisputed on Alternia. He’d been born a seadweller, beneath only the Tyrian-bloods. His rule was essentially law — and at times, above the law. Only Fef could order him around (that or the drones, but they rarely checked the oceans), and he in turn could make things hard for those of the lower castes. 

Earth was different in so many ways. There was a kind of leniency here that he’d noticed initially. No killing, for example. Murder was not required to curb the population, nor was culling meted out by the drones that Eridan had simply taken for granted as a part of Alternian society. Humans had a different ruling system. Or so he thought. 

Dolores Umbridge had taught him that humans simply hid their viciousness behind nicer words. If she could hurt them, imprison them, cull them, she would have. It was bizarre, being on the other side of the social ladder that he’d been hatched on. He couldn’t tell if it was the short period where the humans’ red blood flowed through his veins or not, but when Umbridge had issued his ban (her smile, her tone, her authority), it felt like he’d been culled. 

How many trolls had been culled for lesser offenses than he? For not watering their lawn, for littering, for speaking out against the Empire, for not getting a quadrant for pailing, for simply existing? How was that remotely fair? How much of their society was based on keeping the population in control, not just in number, but in mind? 

These were thoughts, traitorous thoughts, of his own Empire. One that they’d all sworn loyalty to the moment they hatched. To be a violetblood was to serve the Empress’ every wish, kill who she needed killed, destroy millions if needed. 

But could Eridan do that? What if Fef lost the confrontation with how kind she was, or worse, lost herself to the cruelty that the Empire insisted was necessary? What about Karkat, who would be culled the moment his blood color was found out? What about the others in their friend group, who were slowly learning about Earth and their culture? Would they survive until adulthood? Would they be allowed to survive?

They were stronger, yes, but suddenly Eridan found himself questioning every single part of troll culture — Alternian culture. 

He would need to reread that tome from the Purifier again. See if he could glean something from the days before the Her Imperious Condescension’s reign. Not that there was much, to be fair. And wasn't that a… what did the humans call it? A "red flag"? Be that as it may, maybe he should also read up a bit on past rebellions, the ones from the Signless and the Summoner. There may be something there…

His trollian dinged on his glasses. 

A few taps and a few files were sent to its recipient. In the right hands they were a treasure trove, in the wrong ones they meant disaster, and in uninformed ones they were nothing but diagrams and measurements. He would probably be busy with that for a while. What had been a passing whim had become such an excellent source in a remarkably short period of time. It would only be a matter of time before that pawn became something more formidable. 

One step closer to his plan — if he could pull it off. But of course he could. He had to. This was the start of something bigger than anything he’s ever done in his life. 

There’s a human saying: “Idle hands do the devil’s work”. Umbridge had no idea the devil she had just released in the form of Eridan Ampora.

Chapter Text

Alternia Interlude - Gamzee Makara

His custodian had left him for the seas once more before the ocean’s merciless storms had set in. Gamzee had watched as Goatdad had barely given him the most flippant of looks before swimming further out to sea and diving below its depths again. It was becoming more and more frequent, the sojourns of his capricious lusus. The days (weeks, sometimes perigees) without him always filled him with a deep sense of loneliness. Like when you finished your last bottle of Faygo and had forgotten to get more. Or when Kar-bro and Tav-bro went offline when he was still wide awake. Gamzee feared that one day his goat dad would leave him for good, off into the waves where he couldn’t follow. Leaving him alone again. 

Like always.

Gamzee had never told them, but he’d feel sparks of envy for Fef-sis and Eri-bro when his lusus leaves. If he had gills and fins like they did, he could follow his custodian into the ocean. Maybe then Goatdad might want to stay more. Maybe they could do some cool ocean stuff together. 

Or maybe his lusus would try to leave further away.

Fingers dipped into the acid-green sopor pie, licking the poisonous goop off the carapace-covered digits. His mind immediately calmed from the roiling and rumbling rage that simmered beneath his skin. Like getting a pale-hug from Kar-bro after a feels jam or after busting some sick rhymes with Tav-bro. A dopey smile found its way to his face as he grabbed at another bottle of Faygo. Shit was delicious.

Half-lidded eyes wandered back to his husktop, where the devices miraculously connected him to his friends, new and old. For the longest time there had been only eleven handles on his Trollian (one for each color of the rainbow like the motherfucking miracle their friendship group was), but recently that list had grown to include some sick new bros and sisses.

It was thanks to Eri-bro, who had pulled his own motherfucking miracle and hopped to a planet far, far away from Alternia. To a place called Earth where there were magical aliens called wizards. Gamzee had watched the videos and streams they’d posted on the memos, had seen in awe of the motherfucking magic they cast in their motherfucking magic school. They’d all up and taught him a bunch of motherfucking rad things — sent him stuff too (from places with dope names like “Zonko’s” and “Honeyduke’s”).

The purple-hued highblood had also learned of a miraculous concept from them as well — parenthood. Grown-up humans (as they had corrected at some point) took care of their own little buddies instead of leaving them to a custodian. They gave the human wrigglers (“children”, one had called them, “babies”, another had, and one of the cool sisses with the really big words had called them “infants”) names, and fed and clothed them without expecting the wriggler to take care of them back.

They called this kind of thing a “family”.

A motherfucking miraculous word.

When Gamzee drew on the walls with his sopor pie, he’d spell out that word. Sometimes when he’d dream, he’d dream of vague shapes and colors and a warmth that came from a “parent”, and wondered what that would feel like. Kar-bro gives the best of pale-hugs, but the humans insisted that a “mother’s embrace” was different. 

In his blood-pusher, Gamzee Makara hoped that he’d get one of these sick hugs one of these days. But for now, he’ll watch the colors on the screen with the same innocent joy that he’s always had, and wait for his custodian to come home.

A giant shadow passing his window caught the corner of his eye, illuminated by a bolt of pink lightning. Not one to let his curiosity get away, the 6-sweep-old tottered to the window, pressing his face against the cold glass and covering some of the transparent material in a mix of sopor, Faygo, drool, and white face paint. 

His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the tall figure standing by the ocean, the dark fabric around its shoulders flapping in the wind. Gamzee would continue to stare at it, dazed and amazed, until it vanished with the next bolt of magenta lightning.

“...MoThErFuCkInG MiRaClEs!”

It seemed increasingly obvious that the greatest things Harry had witnessed in recent history had to do with Eridan. Killing the dementors? Awesome. Freaking out the Order with threats of a troll? Classic. Putting Umbridge in a headlock? Legendary. 

This was different.

Harry watched in amusement at the sight before him. Eridan was currently openly gaping up at Hagrid, who was still recovering from the trip he’d just endured with Madam Maxime to visit the giants. 

Apparently their Dumbledore-received quest had gone to absolute shit when the leader giant guy they were trying to endear themselves to got offed by another giant that the Death Eaters had buttered up to. The two of them nearly got killed by the sounds of it and had spent the trip back looking into giant sightings near lakes and the ocean with no luck. 

The idea of giants joining Voldemort would've been terrifying at one point prior to the events of the summer, but Harry's dealt with Eridan (and his other Alternian friends to a smaller degree) and could confidently say that those maniacs could probably wipe out the last of the giants on the continent without much difficulty. He'd seen the FLARP videos. Hell, Harry had seen firsthand what Eridan could do to Dementors and Parasites. At this point it was more a matter of trying to reduce collateral damage and make sure they could all hold out until the genocidal fishchild blasted a hole clean through the Dark Lord's sternum.

But Harry was digressing.

It had been a while since their resident murder troll had been phased by anything. Even the mountain trolls only registered a feeling of disgust at what wizards had named them, probably because Eridan had never seen a real one up close. But apparently an 11-foot tall half giant was enough to wow the seadweller into silence for a moment.

Apparently this was because this was as tall as most adult highbloods tended to get. Which may or may not have sent a chill down Harry’s spine. If Eridan could do this much damage in his little 5’2” stature, he shuddered at the havoc an adult Eridan could wreck.

On a completely separate note, giants apparently can’t live together very well because they keep trying to kill each other over every little thing. Which made Harry wonder if maybe giants were some kind of cousin to Alternian trolls (oooh what if the same could be said about mountain trolls? Eridan might have an aneurysm if Harry brought that idea up). 

Regardless, it was a mutual agreement of the Legacy to keep Hagrid from knowing Eridan’s true origins during their first meeting, for as much as Harry knew that Hagrid was a wonderful and loyal friend, the half-giant also couldn’t keep a secret like that to save his life.

That’s not to say he didn’t try , especially when Umbridge came around and started playing Sherlock Holmes. To be fair, Umbridge was looking for a reason to sack Hagrid on the day of his return. It was a miracle Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Eridan were able to get out of that undiscovered.

Harry was sure that Hagrid was very ready to hop on the ‘go-feral’ train when it finally happened, especially after that disastrous first lesson in which Malfoy, Parkinson, and Umbridge had triple-teamed to make his teaching skills look bad.

Speaking of which, Harry and Eridan had been making decent headway as the double-leadership of the Secret Hogwarts Rebellion (or SHoRe, for short, which was a seadweller pun that Eridan and Feferi delighted in repeating). Hermione, always the resourceful one, had charmed galleons (provided by Eridan) to use as communication devices between non-Legacy ShoRe members (since the Legacy had Trollian). When the galleons were active, it would show a facet of Umbridge instead with a line running through her profile. Everyone agreed this was a nice touch. They were passed out inconspicuously to students and faculty alike — even Professor Clay got one. First, however, Hermione had every person who was serious about the Rebellion sign an agreement of some sort. Harry didn’t know what happened if the agreement was broken by a signee, but by the troll-worthy smile that had graced Hermione’s face when he’d asked her, it was probably best not knowing.

He wondered if she was spending too much time around Eridan and Aradia, and then decided that pretty much everyone who’d been around had probably subconsciously picked up on some Alternian mannerisms — especially with the help of the Troll Taffy (the name had stuck, and surprisingly no one really questioned it). On the flip side, Eridan was doing remarkably well with picking up human mannerisms and phrases, to the point where he’d started using words like “Heart”, “Bedroom”, and “Brain” instead of “Blood Pusher”, “Respiteblock”, and “Think Pan”. In his defense, Eridan had argued that the human terms were “shorter an’ easier to say, if harder to infer the meanin’ of” and that the blood-changing potion “might havve done some lastin’ damage”.

ShoRe had gained new members by the week — all of Gryffindor, most of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and half of Slytherin (which surprised some of the Legacy, but Eridan had little understanding of the House prejudices and as a Ravenclaw mingled with them quite easily) were all dutifully carrying around their little galleons. Even much of the faculty had one in their pocket (including Snape, and Harry didn’t ask how Eridan had managed that).

In the meantime, Professor Clay had put a halt to his odd detentions for the Legacy in the Forbidden Forest. He gave no explanation as to why, but Harry had seen the spooky-clothed DADA Professor making his own way into the forest through the window where he’d often sit and ruminate in his dorm. Professor Clay seemed to get along decently with Hagrid, and according to Hermione, had been nice enough to help the half-giant with his lesson plans so Umbridge had less ammunition. 

December descended upon them swiftly like a falcon catching its prey. Work piled up higher than the snow outside, and much of the Hogwarts residency was caught up in the holiday season marred only by the presence of a certain pink toad. Ginny became the new Gryffindor Seeker, which came as no surprise to anyone (even if Ginny had admitted her preference of being a Chaser instead) and the party they had to celebrate drowned out most of the bitter feelings Harry had about being kicked off the team by Umbridge. The Beater spots were also filled, though none could quite measure up to the Twins, who had thrown most of their efforts into their prank business (which was booming — especially since they were running discounts for anything that was used on Umbridge).

Harry had been promised Christmas at the Burrow, which was by far the greatest news he’d heard so far. It saddened him to know that getting away from Hogwarts had become so prevalent in his mind ever since Umbridge stepped her slimy foot inside, but on the other hand the Burrow had always felt like a safe haven to him as well. He was looking forward to it, that was for sure, and it was highly likely that the whole Weasley brood would be there. 

Surprisingly, Eridan had been invited as well. At his confusion of what that meant, Hermione had launched into a background of what Christmas was, only for all of them to find out that trolls celebrated something similar — “Twelfth Perigee”. A pretty odd coincidence, but a nice one nonetheless. They spent the morning comparing notes on the two holidays. Much of it was rather similar, they even had trees and presents! 

The seadweller had also stated that he often held a Twelfth Perigee party at his WarshipHive, and most of the other trolls should be in attendance. Trollian had pinged with agreement, with Karkat stating that he usually brought the movies (everyone seemed to complain how they were always rom coms), Feferi chimed in that she helped decorate the place, and the troll called Gamzee insisted on bringing a drink they called ‘Faygo’ (he had to be persuaded not to bring ‘sopor pie’). 

Eridan asked the Legacy if they wanted to come to the party as well — which obviously was a resounding yes as it fell before the actual holidays on Earth this time. The Legacy gathered around in the Room of Requirement before dinner. They made arrangements — how they’d arrive using the Veil, when they’d sneak out, what they’d wear...

Harry was sure he wasn’t the only one excited about seeing how trolls celebrated their own version of Christmas, and maybe he could persuade Mrs. Weasley to at least let some of the other trolls come over to the Burrow…

He’d nodded off in an armchair with the happy chatter around him. 

He dreamt that Eridan was shooting at Christmas baubles in the shape of Umbridge’s head that were hung over the Great Hall cackling maniacally while Sirius talked to Harry in dog form about how dull it was to be staying at Grimmauld Place alone and if Harry would mind if he turned into a troll instead. Hermione and Ginny had walked in wearing their dresses from the Yule Ball and had asked Harry why he wasn’t ready for the party yet while their skin slowly turned gray and they began to sprout candy corn colored horns. He looked down at his hands and he was turning gray as well, despite his protests which were drowned by Eridan’s cackling.

But then he felt himself be pulled into his mind, where that nasty Parasite in the box in the cupboard of his mindspace rattled and rattled. 

And suddenly he was somewhere else. Sliding across the ground with no need for arms or legs. His body was powerful, smooth, flexible, gliding across stone floors in a darkened building. He could see the world in a myriad of colors and smells, swirling around the air. They each told him different pieces of information. 

This place was large and vast, great stone walls mingled with wooden frames. The remnant of the smells off all that had passed through earlier still hanging in the air like a brand of their existence.

He flicked his tongue out, tasting the air. 

There were still morsels here.

Yes… there was a man sitting at his desk, packing up his things while humming to himself and doing a small dance. That was his target… who Master wanted him to bite…

The man flicked his wand and the lights went off, heading down the corridor.

Yes… come closer… so he could bite…

The man abruptly stopped, drawing a wand from his belt. 

No choice now. Harry reared back and went to strike-

Bang.

Harry fell out of his seat in a jolt, pressing his hand against his scar, where it burned and throbbed. Damn! And things had been going so well with Eridan’s lessons! 

The sudden thump caused everyone to look his way in concern. 

“You alright, mate?” Ron was the first to ask as Harry slowly rose up to a sitting position. His ears began to burn as he felt all eyes on him.

“Yeah… yeah.” The Parasite host grumbled, still rubbing the scar, “ Shit… it’s been a while since that hurt so much…”

“What happened?” Ginny asked, helping him back up. “You jerked out as if you’d gotten hit with something.”

Harry opened his mouth to retort that yes, it was definitely something someone got hit with, before he realized that he wasn’t quite sure how to explain whatever the hell he’d just dreamt of. It certainly felt like the kind of dream that got him lured into the Department of Mysteries in the first place, but the point of view was certainly of Voldemort’s big ugly snake. 

“Yeah… I think it was another vision, actually.” Harry grumbled, ignoring the slight intake of breath from a few people. “Mr. Weasley was targeted by Lord Noseless’ snake-” another round of gasps, “He's fine though! I think?”

There was a notable amount of silence that had befallen the room. Hadn't he said some good news, though? Well, by the way his head was still throbbing even long after waking up, Harry was pretty sure it was good news despite the headache. 

“Wha'dyu mean you think?! ” Ron voice went up a couple octaves.

Oh, right. Dad attacked by giant snake. Well, more targeted than attacked, since from what he saw that snake didn't have time to react before-

“I think the snake is dead now.” Was his succinct response. 

Very, very dead. Very dead in the way Harry was sure only one murderous Ravenclaw and his fellow alien murderchildren could make something. Which led to more questions for Harry… aaaand now the headache had nothing to do with the physical residue of the scar. 

“What do you mean dead?! That bloody thing was enormous!” That might have been Ginny.

“Yeah, right in the head. Hard to get back from something like that, I'd reckon.”

How was a human able to get his hands on something that was clearly an Alternian weapon? How did he know how to use it?  How was he accurate enough to shoot straight between the eyes of a giant snake?!

“Harry, you're not making much sense right now…” 

Harry's head swam so much he couldn't even pinpoint who was talking anymore. Could have been Hermione. Or Neville. One of the chronic worriers.

“For once I think there's nothing to worry about. It's a weird feeling.” Harry continued, pondering, confused.

No, but really , where on Earth would he have gotten a…

“Oooooh shit. He was serious .”

“What about Sirius?” Ron piped up immediately. 

Harry cast his eyes over the large ballroom being used to house the party guests. Decorations were hung all around, surrounding a massive pine tree where an array of gray packages with colored ribbons and a tag with a corresponding symbol sat beneath its magenta leaves. Long teal-wood tables were laden with pitchers of different hues of grubjuice and Alternian finger foods, and Eridan's lusus Seahorsedad floated about and nibbled at their hair. So different, and yet so similar.

The actual celebration of Twelfth Perigee was shockingly like Christmas, except trolls believed presents were given by Death and his ‘foxy Handmaid’ instead of Santa Claus and his elves. Which was apparently a hill that Hermione was going to die on when she started vehemently debating the legitimacy of either belief with Terezi Pyrope, whose brain was as sharp as her pointy, pointy horns. Thankfully, it diffused the tension and awkwardness of those meeting in person for the first time. The rest of the Legacy had quickly broken off into sections after the initial shock and greetings were done for the trolls in attendance, which according to Eridan was all eleven trolls in his friend group.

Tavros Nitram was introducing a game called “Fiduspawn” to Neville with Gamzee Makara pulling the bull-horned troll into “BuStInG SiCk rHyMeS”. He seemed to be getting the hang of both the game and the sudden bursts into rapping — even joining in to both of the trolls’ delight.

Fred and George had started dragging Vriska Serket and Terezi Pyrope into what may become some kind of prank war (Harry was… he wasn’t going to get in the middle of that. Something about their gazes terrified him). Eridan had told Harry a while ago that they were dubbed ‘the Scourge Sisters’ which made him realize that if Eridan seemed to somewhat avoid them, perhaps it was best to keep a wide berth.

Hermione had started grilling Sollux Captor on his psionics while Feferi Peixes hung off her in a piggyback hug (which was apparently not something trolls did with each other? Humans were more prone to physical affection outside of the Troll ‘Quadrants’ it seems), their dark bushy hair mingling in a way that may require magic to untangle with the way Feferi’s tresses seemed to almost move and bounce with a mind of their own. 

Ginny was talking with Nepeta Leijon and Equius Zahhak about Quidditch. Nepeta seemed excited with the idea of the sport, and Equius was just very uncomfortable with everyone except his moirail. Which, honestly, just sounded like a sibling relationship to Harry, but what did he know? He was human.

Luna was giving Kanaya Maryam an aneurysm by the looks of it with her… unique choice of dress (dirigible plum earrings and a mishmash of various colors and designs that gave Dumbledore a run for his galleons), and Eridan had pulled Ron away for a game of wizard chess with Karkat Vantas shouting about this being ‘NOT THE TIME FOR ANOTHER MIND-NUMBINGLY LONG STRATEGY GAME ON THE ONE DAY EVERYONE ACTUALLY GOT OFF THEIR SORRY ASSES TO SOCIALIZE’.

Which left…

“So… this is what you look like when you’re not floating around as an astral-projecting ghost… thingy?” 

Aradia Megido’s wide, toothy grin never failed to send chills down his spine.

“0f c0urse! What did y0u think I w0uld l00k like?”

She always smiled like she knew something, but never elaborated on the secret she so reveled in. Eridan had complained about her inscrutability on more than one occasion and Harry was beginning to understand his frustration.

“Just… making small talk I suppose. This whole ‘leading me away from everyone’ isn’t to off me away from prying eyes, is it? I have enough people vying for my head as it is.”

Indeed, they were getting further and further away from the rest of the celebrations, to a darkened corner of the ballroom. Harry’s back pressed against a statue of Ulric the Odd (and his infamous jellyfish hat) that they had procured for Eridan for his continued efforts in beating up Umbridge (it had been the Twins’ idea).

Aradia’s bleating laughter was not comforting.

“D0n’t w0rry, I w0uldn’t take killing y0u away fr0m y0ur m0rtal enemies! Y0u have t0 die by his hand, remember?”

Right the damned Prophecy that nearly cost Sirius his life, and had cost his parents their's so many years ago.

“Wait, how do you know about the Prophecy?”

“Y0u t0ld me, silly!”

“I did?”

He didn’t recall ever mentioning the Prophecy to any of the trolls (maybe Eridan, since they did spill the beans on a lot to catch him up to speed on their situation). But she’d referenced it so he must have at some point, right?

Aaand now she was staring again. At his hands. She did that a lot — for some reason she’d examine his hands (just his, he checked, she didn’t do that to anyone else) for long bits of time when she was thinking.

“Anyways, I called y0u here t0 help me with 0ur time-h0n0red traditi0n! The Cycle must c0ntinue after all! A new quest — give every0ne their Twelfth Perigee presents!”

A bundle floated over his head, presumably un-capchalogged, and into his arms. Turning it over, it was… a tattered black cloak? And wrapped inside was a bone-white skull mask…

“Hold on, isn’t this Professor Clay’s?” Harry squawked in surprise.

“It's y0urs, silly!”

“Aradia, did you steal this from Professor Clay?”

“Happy Twelfth Perigee!”

“What is this even for?! ”

“Y0u're Death and I'm the F0xy hand-Maid!”

“Oooooh I'm playing Troll Santa. That makes more sense. Why me?”

“It has t0 be y0u!”

And that was how Harry got roped into dressing in full-black garb and a tattered cloak and a white mask, handing out presents to trolls and humans alike. Some items were magical, which had delighted the Alternian recipients, and others were technology or weaponry for the Legacy (as it was unheard of for a troll’s strife specious to be empty). Harry tried not to smirk at some of the presents. Ron had gotten a bright orange revolver, Hermione a graceful blue rapier, and Neville a broadsword with vine like designs. Just like he’d envisioned. A small glance at Eridan, a wink in return. 

He blinked when the seadweller pressed a package with Harry’s lightning bolt insignia on the tag into his hands. 

“Found it tucked in the library. Dunno howw it got there, but it felt right to givve it to ya.” he muttered. 

Gold and red paper was ripped off to reveal a long, curved blade with a compacted pole handle. Green eyes took it in with shock and confusion.

“Did Aradia put you up to this?”

The two trolls shared a look, and Harry didn’t need their damn troll horns to know the answer to that question.

In his hands, the steel of the scythe blade glinted… green.

-- caligulasAquarium [CA] began trolling sableEvanescence [SE] --
CA: your twwelfth perigee gift is most appreciated
SE: As is yours. I am curious to know what effects the various flora and fauna of Alternia can provide to potions and artifacts alike.
CA: im sure youll find a wway to somehoww cure lycanthropy or some shit
CA: anywways wwhat did the wwalkin fashion disaster in the teachers memo mean wwhen he mentioned that wwhole remedial potions thin
CA: hars not that shit at potions
SE: No… I am to begin teaching Potter Occlumancy.
CA: wwhats that
SE: A form of the Mind Arts. It shields one from Legilimancy, those who can read minds. It may be useful to teach you as well.
CA: oh shit
CA: ivve been teachin har howw to guard his mind against vvoldy for perigees noww
SE: …
CA: vvris wwas alwways big on the mind control thin that members of her caste wwere capable of an evven though vvioletbloods are less susceptible to such thins vvriss abilities are stronger than most
CA: har an i realized that vvoldy might be lookin into his thinkpan so ivve been givvin him pointers
SE: …I will test both of your Occlumancy shields when you return, then. I will not be forgiving.
SE: If I deem them sufficient, there will be no need for me to begin lessons.
SE: My gratitude in advance. I was dreading teaching that brat.
CA: hes a good kid sevv
SE: He’s like his father. Though perhaps your arrival has aided him in actually using his ‘thinkpan’ for its intended purpose.
CA: nevver kneww his progenitor but the stories ivve heard vvary
CA: speakin a wwhich howws sirius
SE: Why, pray tell, would I know that? Are you not going to be seeing him during the Christmas holidays? I’m sure Potter and the redheaded brood will find a way to sneak him in somehow. 
CA: wwell hes your kismesis you tell me
SE: FOR THE LAST TIME WE ARE NOT
SE: I would rather be bitten by a werewolf. 
SE: Or a large serpent. 
SE: In the jugular. 
CA: so your type is more lupin
CA: got it
SE: NO
-- sableEvanescence [SE] ceased trolling caligulasAquarium [CA] -- 

“Harry! Eridan!”

Sirius’ arms wrapped around the two dark-haired teens before they could react. Eridan, who had gotten used to things like hugs by now, no longer stiffened at the act and merely sighed while patting the man on the back. A glance at Hermione, who gave him a thumbs-up before she went upstairs with Ron and Ginny.

They decided that with the ongoing issue that was Lord Noseless and his band of crazy masked lunatics, going to the Burrow may not be the safest bet. They instead decided that bringing the remaining Weasley lot to Grimmauld Place would go down better. 

Neville had gone home with his Gran since she insisted on taking him out of the country at least for the holidays, and Xenophilius and Luna were going far up north to track the elusive Revontulets (an elusive fox-type magical creature which could only be found in the winter months and were supposedly the reason for the Aurora Borealis phenomenon), so it was just Harry, Hermione, Eridan, and the Weasleys coming back to Grimmauld Place.

Already Eridan clocked how scraggly Sirius had become since Eridan last saw him in person. Humans really were social creatures, weren't they? They could barely survive being alone, even with a lusus-like companion like Witherwings (he refused to call such a noble beast ‘Buckbeak’). He supposed it was a human weakness to need such coddling.

Only… was it really a human weakness? Had trolls not reached out to each other over trollian and in person? Was friendship not considered a prevalent disease on Alternia per the Empire's standard? Had… had their society been forced into one of alienation from one another?

How much of their society was built on preventing an uprising?

A hand waves over his face and out of reflex he catches it and twists. His earfins twitch as he registers Sirius’ yelp. His grip immediately slackens as he gives the adult a look of apology.

“You're strong for such a little bugger.” Sirius laughs through the obvious pain, reaching for a Wiggenweld potion off the shelf (really, he hadn't twisted that hard!).

“Sorry…” the troll muttered, head and fins down.

“If you're this strong when you're small I shudder what you'll be when you're an adult… son. ”

Eridan raised an eyebrow in an accurate rendition of Snape's patented Looks of Disdain.

“You wwouldn't be able to handle me, dad. ” He sniped back to be funny, but his horns detected some weird emotion coming from Sirius after he'd said that. He was once again wrapped in a hug, tighter this time. 

Eridan glanced around the room frantically to see if anyone else was here to witness this, but it looked like Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley brood had gone off to plot things. They've been doing that more often since the Twelfth Perigee party, and once again Eridan wondered if introducing the two friend groups had been a good idea. 

No. It had been a necessary move. Harry and the Legacy desperately needed to learn the importance of non-magical combat, and exposing the Alternian group to human culture will help with his future plans.

The seadweller patted the emotional Grim animagus on the back, sighing. It really was different having a parent like this, even a pretend one.

“Speaking of being a dad, I've got a surprise for you and Harry.” Sirius said as he let Eridan go, a wide goofy grin on his face.

A raised eyebrow from the troll as he waited for Sirius to explain.

“Okay, so it looks like the goblins have been friendlier to me since they found out I’m your legal guardian and they’ve agreed to sneak me past the wizard entrance to Gringotts so I can take you both to the Black Family Vault. You and Harry can pick anything you like from inside there!” If Sirius was in his animagus form, he was sure to be wagging his tail.

Slitted eyes widened, like a cat’s. 

“Noww that does sound interestin.”

And interesting it was, Eridan had to admit as he found himself back at Gringotts with Harry and Sirius in tow, having taken the human guise potion again to look the part of ‘Eridanus Ampora-Black’ (and trying not to think about if it, too, was making some kind of permanent change within him). He'd only been here the one time back when he was dunked head-first into what the wizarding world (and on a broader scale, Earth, he supposed) was like, and coming back a second time allowed him to take in everything that he'd missed before. 

Gringotts was certainly obvious in their Alternian influences once you knew where to look. Their written system resembled Alternian writing, and much of the clothing they wore matched with the styles of the mid-to-highbloods during Dualscar's time. Hell, even their weapons were similar in aesthetic. Eridan quietly pointed these things out to Sirius and Harry, who seemed to be looking around the bank in a new light. Sirius was glancing around as if questioning everything he knew about goblins and trolls, and Harry kept eyeing the weapons as if measuring them up against the ones everyone in the Legacy received during the Twelfth Perigee party (which was good, it meant they were already starting to train with them). 

The mine cart ride down was still full of twists and turns, Thief's Downfall washing away the disguise Eridan carried into Diagon, the goblin inside not even batting an eye at the change, though his narrowed eyes seemed to watch Eridan, curiosity evident from what he could sense from his horns. Even so, the ride itself was shorter than the one Eridan had taken to his ancestors’ vault. 

Sirius was as queasy as Severus had been as they dismounted the cart, Harry doing better than the grown adult. His expression and the confusion rolling off his form indicated this was a recent development. He'd have to ask the older teen about that later.

The vault itself resembled the other one he'd been in, piled high with coins and various treasures (many of which oozed with something that made Eridan's trigger finger twitch, like a slick oil that stuck to everything around it). Many objects were displayed on tables and shelves carved into the wall as well, some of the sharp weapons catching Eridan’s eye along with the books neatly sorted on the far shelves. 

“Usually this place would be warded with all sorts of nasty charms.” Sirius explained, looking around the place in unbidden distaste. “If someone came here without permission everything they touched would be cursed to multiply indefinitely, eventually drowning out any thieves trying to steal any of this Merlin-forsaken shit.”

Harry, who was just about to touch a golden astrolabe, quickly shrank his hand back.

“It’s fine now, though, right?” He squeaked out.

Sirius just pokes at the suit of armor, which mutters what was probably expletives in another language — possibly French. 

“Well yeah, I’m the current head of the Black family, you’re my godson and Eridan is my kind-of-adopted son. Can’t argue against that. Besides, would be a shame to let all this gold and garbage rot in a vault without ever seeing the light of day when I can show it off to my kin like a proper Pureblood should, eh?”

“Now I feel less bad about getting the Firebolt in the third year.” Harry muttered as he looked around the vault. “Why’d you bring us down here, anyways? I thought you hated everything to do with your family — not that I’m upset, but I figured this would be the last place you’d want to go Christmas present shopping.”

In response, Sirius shrugged a bit and pointed to where Eridan was eyeing the tomes and artifacts on the shelves with intense interest.

“Fair point.”

“Sacrificin’ your ancestors’ loot for us is much appreciated.” Eridan told him solemnly, causing Sirius and Harry to stifle in their laughter at the wording.

After some time looking at the various items — quite a few swords, an entire shelf of wands in velvet boxes, paintings that screamed whenever they saw the small troll stalking towards them — Harry noticed a weird golden cup sitting on one of the higher shelves. It vaguely reminded him of the Goblet of Fire, which didn’t bring back the most pleasant of memories, but it did remind him of something Hermione had mentioned during Astronomy that year.

“Hey Eridan, look, the Holy Grail!” Harry chuckled, pointing to the cup. “Get it? Because your symbol is Aquarius?”

Eridan’s eyeroll in response was worth it, but then he actually squinted up at the cup. For a good minute the seadweller just stood there, just staring at the thing. Then his pupils narrowed, earfins pressed back, hackles raised, and his lips turned down into a snarl.

“Har, you’re not gonna fuckin’ believve this.”

Said Boy-Who-Lived-To-Get-Into-The-Dumbest-Situations dropped the trophy he’d been inspecting, head going back towards the innocuous-looking cup. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, feeling for that box he kept locked away in his mind, following the fewer connections that led off somewhere. When one of the connections did indeed end at the cup, Harry couldn’t help but groan. Seriously, what even was his life at this point?

“No fucking way.” He breathed, hands going into his hair to tug at it. Here? So casually… just… here?!

“Oh but havve you considered — yes wway?” Eridan drawled, uncapatchlogging Ahab’s Crosshairs, getting into his shooting stance.

“Woah woah woah what’s going on?!” Sirius shouted as the keening whine of the laser rifle began to sound. 

“Parasite!” Harry shouted, casting a shield to protect himself and Sirius from any debris that might hit them. “Like the Locket!”

Anything else he’d say was drowned out by the discharge of the rifle, the chamber they were in filling with light. Amidst the shouts and swears from the portraits, one could hear the sizzle of something. Where the cup once stood was nothing but blackened soot, and a hole went from the back of the shelf to the ceiling. Surprisingly, nothing else was hit.

“Holy shit!” The dog animagus finally managed out. 

“I honestly forgot how good of a shot you are.” Harry muttered to the preening troll, “Like, your friends mentioned it, but I think this is the first time I’ve actually seen what they were talking about.”

Eridan gave him that wide, sharp-toothed grin again (he’d gotten used to it. He’s been around the little murder-troll and his little murder-troll friends too long if he’s already desensitized, right?). “Practice makes perfect.” was all he said in the matter. 

In the end, Harry chose a portable Quidditch Ball set with a few extra Snitches, Eridan chose about five thick tomes that weren’t cursed, and Sirius chose a large bottle of some kind of alcohol (saying he needed it and it was a little Christmas present to himself).

Christmas prep was in full swing as everyone pitched in to get Number 12 Grimmauld Place in shape for the season. Sirius, emboldened by the Spirits of the Season (see: the mystery alcohol in the Black Vault), became the taskmaster as he ordered everyone on his vision for how the place should look. He was determined that everyone should enjoy themselves as much, if not more, than they would have done at Hogwarts, and he worked tirelessly in the run-up to Christmas Day, cleaning and decorating with their help, so that by the time they all went to bed on Christmas Eve the house was barely recognizable. 

The tarnished chandeliers were no longer hung with cobwebs but with garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers; magical snow glittered in heaps over the threadbare carpets; a great Christmas tree, obtained by Mundungus and decorated with live fairies, blocked Sirius’s family tree from view; and even the stuffed elf heads on the hall wall wore Father Christmas hats and beards. Even Kreacher had helped, toning down his complaints as he helped scrub and shine every inch of the place. 

Throughout the whole thing, Eridan was given much information to do with the humans’ notion of ‘Christmas’, and helped decorate the place with some baubles from their recent Twelfth Perigee party — ones that fit well within the ideals of Christmas and didn’t clash with the warmth and joy of the human variety. 

Harry awoke on Christmas morning to find a stack of presents at the foot of his bed and Ron already halfway through opening his own, rather larger, pile. Eridan was nowhere to be seen, his recupracoon empty.

“Good haul this year,” Ron informed Harry through a cloud of colored paper. “Thanks for the Broom Compass, it’s excellent, beats Hermione’s — she’s got me a homework planner —”

Harry sorted through his presents and found one with Hermione’s handwriting on it. She too had given him a book that resembled a diary, except that it said things like “ Do it today or later you’ll pay! ” every time he opened a page.

That was going to get old real fast. Please have a silencing option…

Lupin had given Harry a set of excellent books entitled Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts, which had superb, moving color illustrations of all the counterjinxes and hexes it described. Harry flicked through the first volume eagerly. This would do well with everything he’d been learning from Professor Clay’s class. 

Hagrid had sent a furry brown wallet that had fangs, which were presumably supposed to be an antitheft device, but unfortunately prevented Harry putting any money in without getting his fingers ripped off. Tonks’s present was a small, working model of a Firebolt, which Harry watched fly around the room, wishing he still had his full-size version. Ron had given him an enormous box of Every-Flavor Beans, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley the usual hand-knitted jumper and some mince pies, and Dobby a truly dreadful painting that Harry suspected had been done by the elf himself. Perhaps the elf was dabbling in Picasso?

He wasn’t expecting Eridan to get him anything since trolls celebrated Twelfth Perigee instead, but the seadweller had gotten everyone an accessory that had their ‘troll’ symbol featured on it somehow. Harry thought the gold glasses with the lightning-bolts incorporated on the handles were pretty cool — and his prescription.

A crack , and Fred and George were suddenly at the door of his bed. 

“Merry Christmas!” George sang out, already proudly sporting the jumper with the capital ‘F’, “You won’t believe who showed up-“

“What’s that supposed to be anyway?” asked Fred, cutting in and squinting at Dobby’s painting. “Looks like a gibbon with two black eyes.”

“It’s Harry!” said George, pointing at the back of the picture. “Says so on the back!”

“Good likeness.” said Fred, grinning. 

Harry threw his new homework diary at him; it hit the wall opposite and fell to the floor where it said happily, “ If you’ve dotted the i’s and crossed the t’s then you may do whatever you please! ”

“Merlin, sounds like Percy.” Fred grumbled, warily eyeing where the planner landed.

“Speaking of, you won’t believe who showed up for Christmas!” George continued, as if he’d just been let in on an enormous joke.

“Came to the Burrow and everything and Mum’s just flooed him in—“ Fred added, tossing the duvet over the planner as if it were an explosive.

Ron blinked in surprise as he pulled out a small present without a note from who it was from. Harry watched him open it as Fred and George talked, eyebrows climbing higher as Ron extracted a snakeskin wand holster from it. 

“What the hell?” The younger redhead mumbled, turning it this way and that in his hands. 

“Oh yeah, we got something similar.” George mentioned ever-so-casually. 

“Watches with snakeskin bands for us.”

“No note on who it was from but the handwriting’s clearly Perce’s.”

“Some kind of apology gift, we reckon.”

“Huh, didn’t realize he’d skin the damn thing.” Harry muttered, noting to himself to talk to Eridan about that later.

The three present Weasleys turned to him in confusion. 

“What d’you mean?” Ron asked. 

“Just… be careful what you wish for next time.” Harry stated with a strained voice tinged with regret.

They all got up and dressed after that (not without pestering Harry on his words but he was keeping tight-lipped on the subject). Harry could hear various inhabitants of the house calling “Merry Christmas” to each other. On their way downstairs they met Hermione. 

“Thanks for the book, Harry!” she greeted them happily. “I’ve been wanting that New Theory of Numerology for ages! And that perfume is really unusual, Ron.”

“No problem.” said Ron, before he turned to Ginny who was trudging up to them, rubbing her eyes, “Hey Gin, did you get anything made of snakeskin this year?”

“Yeah.” She mumbled, narrowing her eyes, “A set of Quidditch gloves. No clue from who. How d’you know?”

“Consequences.” Harry piped up suddenly in the faux-mysterious voice Professor Trelawney was known for, “Soon you will see the consequences of your actions.”

“You all agreed it wwould be funny. Stop bein’ pissy about it.” Came Eridan’s voice at the base of the stairs, hands full of presents that looked suspiciously book shaped and sporting red and green festive attire.

“What d’you mean by that?” Ron asked as they made their way into the kitchen. 

The adults were there already — Remus and Sirius had immediately accosted Harry to put on a set of enchanted antlers, insisting that it was Marauders tradition and Harry must carry it on as ‘Prongslet’. Oddly enough, these antlers seemed to suddenly take a candy corn color scheme when they ‘sprouted’ from his head. Eridan looked smug, Fred and George seemed unreasonably innocent (which usually indicated the opposite). 

Mrs. Weasley was setting the table with a mouth-watering Christmas breakfast spread (Harry spotted treacle tart where the sweets were; all was well with the world). She seemed to be humming with holiday cheer. Around her waist was a new snakeskin half-apron. Helping her set the spread was Mr. Weasley (who was wearing a shiny new pair of snakeskin shoes) and — just as the Twins had mentioned — Percy. The teens were greeted with another round of “Merry Christmas”s from them before being herded into the chairs for breakfast. 

Percy, to some people’s surprise, greeted Eridan amicably, shaking the small troll’s hand all business-like. Eridan returned it in kind. 

“Your schematics were legitimate.” was the first thing Percy told Eridan, causing a ripple on confusion amongst those that were Mr. Weasley, Harry, and Eridan himself.

“Did you havve doubts that they wwould be?” An eyebrow raise from the small troll.

Ron had a look of dawning comprehension. Hermione’s eyes widened in horror, like the prophet Cassandra seeing her unheeded warnings come to light.

“I was skeptical that you would provide such a thing to someone who was essentially a stranger. You may have reached out to me with a request but that does not guarantee that you will hold up anything on your end.” Percy continued, apparently not seeing (or not caring about) the tone shift amongst the dramatic youth. 

Ginny put her goblet down a little more forcefully than she intended. Fred and George were staring, mouth agape. 

“An noww?” Eridan’s grin was wide and full of sharp teeth. 

“It works fantastic. Thank you.” The human with the horn-rimmed glasses said with honest emotion, “I'll have to study the schematics of it later since the ‘spirit’ of the weapon appears to resemble Fiendfyre — something our world considers Dark Magic — but it certainly doesn't appear to be as uncontrollable.”

Sirius does a spit-take with his bacon just as the cacophony of noise begins. 

“Eridan what did you do?! ”

“I told you it was a bad idea!”

“Eridan it was a joke! ”

“Wait wait wait!” Ginny suddenly shouts, fork in the air before pointing it squarely at her oldest brother present. “So you killed the snake that attacked Dad? That was you?”

“How did… well I suppose it doesn’t matter.” Percy grumbled a bit, shaking his head in slight exasperation, “Yes. I’d been working late at the office and saw a rather large serpent gliding through the Ministry Halls like it owned the place and went to follow it. Beasts that large have to be kept in a cage or at least a leash at all times, and I was going to give whoever owned the snake a telling-to but I couldn’t find anyone else around, which meant that it was likely someone set it loose and I’d have to write whoever did that up or at least notify the correct-“

“Perce, get to the point! ” Fred groaned in slightly irritation.

“Right. Right. Yes. Well, I’d followed it to where Dad was packing up apparently, and the snake sort of… reared back. I panicked because it looked like it was going to strike, and I’d been practicing using the strife specibus I was given so I sort of… shot it in the head?”

Harry nodded, since that lined up with that dream he had a while ago.

“So what’s in the thing you gave him?” Harry asked, turning to Eridan who’d been following Percy’s explanation with more grace than the rest of them. 

“It’s one a the rifles I used to use before I found Ahab’s Crosshairs.” Eridan explained with a shrug. “It’s called the Mariner’s Arquebus. It apparently has the ‘soul’ of some kind a fire entity inside it to power it, wwhich differs from the Crosshairs since that’s powwered by wwhatevver magic flowws through my vveins, so anyone skilled enough could use it.”

“You actually gave Percy a gun?!”

Eridan blinked. “You all said ‘let Percy go feral’ an’ I havve givven him the tools to do so.” He motions a clawed hand towards Percy, who was distinctly not looking in his mother’s direction despite her glare being so intense Harry wasn’t sure why it wasn’t burning a hole through his head yet. “Though I didn’t teach him howw to shoot. He already kneww.”

“Look, some of the old soldiers that live in the muggle side of Ottery St. Catchpole aren’t the magic sort and they enjoy teaching the next generation how to shoot by using chickens as target practice.” Percy practically mumbled as he poked at his food, not looking up. “I’d go where some of the other blokes were practicing their aim if I needed to, you know, blow off some steam. Exams, being Prefect and Head Boy, and herding you lot gets stressful, you know. And at least I can come home with chicken or pheasant or deer for dinner.”

He gives Eridan some kind of meaningful look and a small nod, but Harry can’t make heads or tails of what was said. It eerily reminded him of Fred and George somewhat. But Eridan looked usually pleased with himself, and Percy was continuing to avert his gaze from everyone at the table. There was something horrifying knowing that Percy’s one bad day of genuinely going feral and now has something similar to Eridan’s laser rifle.

“That’s how you were getting those? I thought those nice muggle men were giving them to you for listening to their old war stories.” Mr. Weasley said with surprise, before getting smacked lightly on the shoulder by Mrs. Weasley. 

Chatter resumed around the table as food was passed around again, jokes were made at multiple people’s expense, and presents and stories were shared. Even though it wasn’t Hogwarts (currently sullied by She-Who-Wears-Too-Much-Pink), Harry felt a warmth inside him as he geared up for a pick-up game of Quidditch in an enlarged ballroom (chandeliers removed, courtesy of Kreacher). 

Tonks showed up later in the afternoon. She’d come out of the Floo morphed into a rendition of Santa Clause, which would have been completely believable if she didn’t almost immediately trip two steps out of the fireplace and was caught by a panicking Remus. Everybody called the werewolf “Mrs. Claus” for the rest of the day.

It was a happy Christmas indeed.

The short days after Christmas passed them by and soon it was time to return to Hogwarts. Usually they’d return via the Hogwarts express, but apparently certain members of the Order thought that was too risky since there were usually less kids on the train and generally most Pureblood kids Flooed into Hogsmeade. So they were going to use the Knight Bus.

Harry tucked his lips away when he heard, looked at Eridan who was drinking his human disguise potion, and said nothing.

His face when the violently purple triple-decker bus had appeared out of thin air with a BANG in front of them, narrowly avoiding the nearest lamppost (which jumped backward out of its way), was worth the silence. He hadn’t seen Eridan this offended since the mountain trolls were mentioned. 

“Hey look, it’s your color!” Harry managed out, not even flinching at the short third-year’s withering gaze anymore.

“More Gam’s shade than mine, I think.” Eridan muttered, striding up the steps past poor Stan Shunpike who was about to do his short welcome speech. “Clearly it’s for clowwns.”

Harry couldn’t help the cackle that came from him as he also ascended the steps inside, hearing Tonks behind him threaten the poor pimpled teen if he shouted that the Boy-Who-Lived got on the bus for everyone to hear. 

“I’ve always wanted to go on this thing!” He heard Ron say happily behind him, joining Harry on board and looking around.

It took Ron getting flung to the floor from the steer force of the bus suddenly speeding and swerving and stopping and whatever the hell else the driver was doing to regret those words immensely. Mismatched chairs slid here and there, and the floor was covered with an array of goop from various spilled things mixing together (“Hey! Looks like potion idea Gred!” “I agree Forge- urk! ”). Ginny were clutching her things for dear life so they didn’t slip and join the ooze on the floor, Pidgewidgeon having been freed from his cage the first time Ron’s chair had slammed into it was currently nesting on Hermione’s shoulder, and Hermione herself was covering her eyes as she braced for the next movement.

Some poor lady in the back heaved her stomach dry. Luckily her stop was next. 

Eridan seemed to be the only one who got the memo after the first time he was knocked off his feet by the bus’ sudden departure, and had quickly adapted to the movements by watching the driver and hopping on and off chairs and hanging on the bars. His wild grin showed that he was the only manic enjoying this trip in the slightest. 

Damn trolls. 

Tonks had apparently bribed the driver to move up their stop, so Hogsmeade was blessedly the next stop after. The snow-covered ground of the nearby wizarding town was the most beautiful thing he’d seen after the ride nearly relieved him of his lunch. Dazed, the humans of the group stumbled out, the winter cold biting at their skin. 

Some glared at Eridan as he stepped off, once again smug. Each of them tried to take a whack at him as he batted them off, screeching and growling that they ‘should’a learned to fight in a wwobblin’ wwarship’ if they wanted to do what he did. 

Tonks and Remus, their chaperones, bid the seven of them good luck as they headed towards the Hog’s Head for a pick-me-up after riding in the Knight Bus. Harry watched them go before casting his eyes to where the others trudged through the snow up towards the castle. He casts a sideways glance at Eridan, who was talking to the twins about something that was too far to make out. 

He takes a deep breath in, the cold air filling his lungs. When he breathes out, he feels more ready to deal with whatever the hell was in store for the second half of the year and beyond… aaaaand Eridan is chasing Ron up the hill shouting Alternian expletives. There goes that sentiment. 

Harry grumbles as he runs to catch up with them, not noticing the pair of violet eyes watching them all from the treeline of the Forbidden Forest.

Chapter Text

Alternian Interlude - Tavros Nitram

Tinkerbull butts at the Dirigible Plum he'd gotten as a late Twelfth Perigee (or as the humans called it, Christmas) present from the girl with the white hair and the serene voice (well, he'd gotten the seeds from her, and the human boy with the plants gave him something that would speed up the growth so now he had a while potted Earth plant). With her color scheme during the party, Tavros had nearly mistaken her for a Lusus. Luna had apparently considered this a compliment, which was good, because the bull-horned troll was pretty sure he meant it as one.

caligulasAquarium's bi-sweeply Twelfth Perigee party had certainly been interesting, that was for sure. Meeting all the new aliens had been totally awesome, though it was a little jarring to see them. Talking to them a bit on Trollian did little to cushion just how weird they looked in person. But if they're the ones that actually got Eridan to be less of an elitist, hemospectrum-touting sack of grubmeal… then they gotta be pretty special for sure. Their Alternian was pretty decent for people that only just started learning it, though halfway through they used something called a ‘translation charm’ which was simultaneously awesome that it exists but slightly off to hear. Did what it needed to, though, even let Neville join in on bustin some sick rhymes while teaching him how to play Fiduspawn.

On the greatest plus side of all of this, he and Aradia have actual FLARP members that weren't in it for the treasure and the level grinding or possibly murdering young trolls to feed their lusus. They were apparently trying to train for defeating, like, an actual Dark Lord that was trying to take over their society, which was the most sicknasty thing he'd ever heard ever. But they were learning the ropes of FLARP and Tavros was more than happy to Cloud for them, especially since they appreciated his efforts in balancing encounters and making the adventure fun and rewarding.

He checks the grub again. It was nearly ready to hatch some new Flapstractions for the next game. He'll troll the humans on it once they're ready.

The humans were really great about making it a team effort, and would even split into various teams and mix and match to make things more interesting. Usually, though, it was the Golden Trio, the Silver Trio, and the Wizard Wheezers. All of them were great, though, and Tavros got to learn more about human ‘siblings’ of the mammalian ‘family’ dynamics.

Even Nepeta joined in now that there were human players. Guess Zahhak considered the humans to be playing a ‘wriggler’ version of FLARP (which wasn't wrong, but the teens were shaping up pretty quick, especially Harry) that was safe enough for her to join.

It had been hard for a while, to pause in FLARPing. He'd wanted to get back to it sooner, but the incident with Vriska left a sour taste in his grub-chute. His legs had been healing nicely for the past few perigees, but he still had some ways to go. Falling from that height off a cliff had been, well, terrifying.

Had Aradia and Terezi been a second late in helping him break his fall…

Well, he was just glad he got out of that with a couple broken bones and a sprained wrist. At least he could Cloud in the meantime.

But he'd told Vriska that he wasn't going to FLARP with her for a while. She'd pitched a bitchfest and called him a wimp, but he wasn't going to back down on this one, using his legs as an excuse for the time being. Terezi was really all apologetic about it, and said she'd talk to the other Scourge Sister about cheating in FLARP.

Come to think of it, it was around that time that Eridan started avoiding her as well. Tavros knew the seadweller, while obsessed with the plunder and the winnings, really focused on doing so while still playing by the rules of the game. Regardless of a lot of things, at least he was fair most of the time. By the Empress, he was the one who got the Summoner's journal to him after realizing it was Tavros's ancestor.

Speaking of which, Eridan had started to ask about that lately, which wasn't unusual when they were planning FLARP campaigns, but was more unusual now that Eridan was light-years away learning magic on an alien planet having his own amazing adventures (and he promised, he promised once they cleared away the current croakbeast issue, that Tavros could come and see the world for himself). A lot of the questions were about the rebellion the Summoner headed. What he did.

What went wrong.

If Tavros didn't know any better, he'd think Eridan Ampora was gearing up for a rebellion. And the weird nagging feeling that he was right only intensified when Eridan had asked whether the beast-speaking troll could reach Gl'bgolyb yet. Which… maybe, if he tried, possibly. Especially since Eridan taught him some wicked magicks that helped shield his mind from the whispers of the Horrorterrors in the Furthest Ring, which also had the bonus of keeping Serket from controlling his mind and also letting him have a good day's sleep even though his horns didn't let him immerse his head in sopor. Which was, like, totally awesome and not what sea troll was gearing for, but it meant he could at least try to do some stuff with Feferi's lusus like the Summoner did. Maybe. He hadn't really thought about his ancestor in that capacity.

But… there was something about his words that made him want to try.

And maybe, someday soon, this Boy-Skylark would fly. Like Pupa Pan.

Darkness seeps from every nook and cranny down here, the musty smell of mold and gunk filling up the cracks of stone can get overpowering in the warmer months, but in the winter it's a bit less noticeable. The twisting and turning halls seem confusing and endless amidst the dimly lit torches that line the walls, the dark-cloaked portraits seemingly blending into one another eventually. A draft flows in from somewhere, and every so often the sound of something dripping echoes the halls. 

“You know, it must really suck to stay down here all the time. Do you think that's why Slytherins are so moody all the time? This can't be healthy for anyone's mental stability.”

The sound of Harry Potter also now echo these halls, followed by a weird chittering noise that was the Alternian vocal equivalent of rolling one's eyes. Harry could make out the third-year Ravenclaw pretty easily, so maybe a couple of Slytherins complained enough to brighten the place up a bit so at least the poor sods could see what's in front of them.

“This is the avverage Alternian experience.” The black-haired Ravenclaw stated, and Harry was reminded of those gloomy-looking halls on the WarshipHive. 

Right, trolls also didn’t like light very much. Was it because they were nocturnal? Could a well-placed Lumos be the weakness of the otherwise overpowered alien teen? Should he tell the twins?

The image of flashbanging the fishtroll crossed his mind and Harry was rather proud of the fact that his compatriot was none the wiser on his growing list of ways to make this happen. And record it on his glasses. For, uh, science.

“So let me get this straight, Dumbledore wanted Snape to teach me what you’ve already been teaching me?” the jade-eyed boy mused, filing the previous idea away for another day.

“Correct. I just happened to havve acted earlier than him, wwhich appears to be becomin the norm. I'm just betta than him at anticipatin wwhat needs to be done.” the young military war-alien stated with an idle shrug.

Which… fair. Eridan Ampora had been doing much more in the ways of being helpful than Dumbledore had been. And mainly in ways that the Headmaster probably wanted to avoid, like training teenagers in armed combat (they were all getting used to summoning and using their new strife specibi and it was glorious). Also Harry was probably supposed to be stopping Eridan from a lot of things but alas, one does not simply control a killer troll.

“So why are we headed to Snape if you've already got that covered?” he asked, already not looking forward to anything that may require Snape to poke inside his brain.

While Snape had become more tolerable since Eridan's arrival, by no means did Harry and the potions professor get along. Not in the caliginous way that trolls see relationships, but the boy who shared his father's face was certain that if the two were snuck in an office alone and he had to get his mind-reader-repelling lessons from an adult that hates his guts, he'd only learn how utterly fucked he'd be up against the Snake Faced Bastard. And probably nursing headaches and a growing feeling of frustration, which would probably make matters worse.

“Because he wwants to see howw far in trainin you are an’ to test both our shields to make sure he doesn't actually havve teach you anyfin.” the violet blooded fishtroll said with a grin that would have sharp teeth had he not been in disguise.

Harry found himself copying that expression.

“Is it bad that I'm excited to finally have someone invade my mind just to see if my defenses work?”

The thought of Snape running from his mental protections like a scene from Looney Toons almost made him laugh aloud. Eridan's grin did not lessen from his face, but the almost guttural, Alternian laugh that echoed from his throat through the gloomy corridor answered him well enough.

Finally, the two of them reached the door to the office where the Gryffindor had spent many a previous detention scrubbing cauldrons by hand. Harry did the honor of knocking on the door before the both of them entered. The one thing that struck the jade-eyed teen rather oddly was the presence of Dumbledore's Pensieve on Snape's desk. What use would the potions master even have for something like that? 

“Shut the door behind you, please.” came Snape's voice around the corner.

Eridan did so before Harry even turned around, looking with interest at the Pensieve. Looks like whenever the lesson was over, Snape was going to be badgered with questions on it. Once again he was happy to have someone that the dour potions master was actually amicable with, or he'd be royally screwed right now. The two dark-haired bespectacled teens sat down in chairs on the other side of the desk, Eridan going first to one of the chairs in a way that screamed ‘this is my spot’ paired with the oddest hint of an ‘aura’ of territorialism around him.

“Ampora has informed me that he has been training you in his version of Occlumancy,” Snape began, sliding into his chair with a grace Harry was frankly jealous of, “And since the Headmaster requested I teach you the art myself, I shall be testing both of your defenses to see what progress, however little, you have made.”

With that, Snape stood, fished his wand from his robes and placed the tip to his temple. When he withdrew it, some kind of silvery substance came away, stretching from head to wand like a thick gossamer spider-silk strand, which broke as he pulled the wand away from it and fell gracefully into the Pensieve, where it swirled silvery white, neither gas nor liquid. Twice more the potions professor raised the wand to his temple and deposited the silvery substance into the stone basin, then, without offering any explanation of his behavior, he picked up the Pensieve carefully, removed it to a shelf out of their way and returned to face Harry and Eridan with his wand held at the ready.

“Wwhat wwas that?” The inquisitive Ravenclaw still ended up asking, crossing his arms and looking back at where the Pensieve was sitting. “Wwhat did you just do?”

“Should you manage to keep me out of your mind, Mister Ampora, I will explain it to you.” Snape replied in clipped tones. 

He watched the disguised troll grin. This was the correct way to handle the murderous but curious Alternian troll, as Harry had learned by trial and error. Trolls loved a good challenge, including and especially Eridan.

Snape turned to Harry first, who already had his wand in hand out of growing habit.

“Well then, let's see how well you've guarded your mind… Legilimens!”

Now, Eridan had instructed Harry on how to build his defenses, but this would be the first time anyone was trying to get into the living Parasite's head from the outside. For a moment he saw brief glimpses of the mental Hogwarts that he used, and the snap of the bear-traps, the first line of defense. Then a flash of the blast-ended skrewts in the further layer, and the chill of the dementors of the last area. And waiting in the center was a single chest… with a mirror in it.

The images faded, and he saw the look on Snape's face.

“...Passable.” the dour wizard finally admitted. “Though you made no move to force me out of your mind.”

“To be honest, I really just wanted to know how far you'd get.” The older teen admitted, trying to hide his silly grin at getting one over Snape, “Does it affect your mind-version like it would outside?”

Snape's lips thinned, and turned to Eridan instead of giving Harry a response, raising his wand. The troll's fingers twitched, but no wand appeared. Ah, he must have put it in his Strife Specibus after the Umbridge incident.

“Legilimens!”

The resounding crack as Snape reeled back nanoseconds later had Harry trying not to laugh. There was a brief flicker across the man's face and an energy of befuddlement that had the Boy-Who-Lived clamping a hand over his mouth to not start howling.

“A… boot?” the Legilimens murmured out in confusion, to which Eridan just shrugged at.

“My main concern a bein’ mind-controlled really leans into the spider motif.” Was what he said as a form of answer. “Anywways, I'm sure you havve noww determined that I'm awwesome an havve done your job for ya, you're wwelcome. So wwhat's the deal wwith the bowwl wwith the thinkpan wwisps?”

Snape brushed himself off as he stood up straighter. “Hm, indeed it is fortunate that you have been able to miraculously instill defenses in the mind of Potter. And therefore, I do not have to suffer the indignity of training him myself.”

He took the Pensieve and placed it back on his desk. Within it, the silvery misty liquid swirled. Harry leaned over but didn't put his face in, wondering what might be inside it.

“This,” Snape elaborated to the nearly-fourteen-year-old troll, “Is what we call a Pensieve. It allows us to store and share memories from within our heads. Oft used to show proof or to view memories from an outside perspective, it can also be used to make sure some memories are kept ‘out of mind’ when dealing with the mental arts. Technically this belongs to the Headmaster, but he has allowed me use of it if I were to be training Potter in the art of Occlumancy.”

“So the wwisps wwere memories?” Eridan asked, finger hovering over the liquid. Snape grabbed his wrist far more gently than he would have if it were Harry's but found that the boy's hand did not budge even with the tugging.

“Yes, and to activate it one needs to come into contact with it, usually through putting one's face inside, and I'd rather you not be privy to the memories inside. It would be considered a breach of privacy.”

Eridan retracted his hand with a frown. It was clear he really wanted to take a peek inside but respected Snape to do so after being asked not to. So much progress has been made since the beginning of the school year. Wow.

“Regardless,” Snape stated with a sigh, “Thankfully I deem your defenses to be sufficient. I will report to the Headmaster that you will not need any further lessons. You may both go.”

Wordlessly both of them left the office, Eridan nodding to the dour professor (who nodded back) before closing the door behind him. For a second they just stood silently outside the office with matching blank expressions, before high-fiving.

“Fuckin’ nailed it!” Harry whispered with a wild grin, “And now I don't need to have Snape rifling through my memories every night! Thanks, Eridan, you're a lifesaver.”

He then looked back to see if Snape somehow heard that and would dock House Points for swearing, but it looked like the coast was clear this time. Even so, best to head away from the den of the snakes.

“Careful, Har, you're turnin’ into me.” The troll replied with a matching grin that was more smug than concerned, hands folded behind his back as they walked back up the corridor.

“D'you think if I eat enough Ampora Berry that I actually will?” Harry wondered idly.

Umbridge had been making more decrees by the day. At this point Harry was pretty sure she was making students write lines en masse. One of the unexpected (but welcome) side effects of the Troll Taffy appeared to be a faster healing factor, and the higher up the color—or, really, hemo—spectrum you went, the better the healing factor. Not as noticeable if you weren't getting carved up by the Blood Quills often, but since Harry was there at least four times a week now (which was apparently some kind of record, only matched by Eridan's thrice a week) and had switched exclusively to violet taffy in order to use Eridan's frankly insane healing factor.

“Wwho knowws.” Eridan replied loftily with a shrug, “At the rate wwe're goin’, I'll become you an you'll become me or wwe'll both become twwins in some midpoint equilibrium.”

Laughter bubbled from Harry's throat, echoing the corridor as they reached the stairwell that led up.

“What do you think an equilibrium between you and me would even look like?” The older teen asked with a shake of his head, “I mean, I suppose we already look alike in your human form, I suppose it would boil down to what I would look like as a troll?”

It was something he thought about sometimes, not just about himself really, but all of them. A passing idle thought, if the roles were reversed, you know? He figured Ron and Karkat had enough in common, so maybe the whole Weasley brood would be some kind of cherry red. Hermione might be teal. Luna… she's similar to Aradia, so maybe maroon? Neville might be brown, or maybe purple. Harry wasn't really sure about himself. Maybe something green. But, like, lighter than jade, but different than olive.

Lime, he thinks. Yeah, lime.

Dunno why that sounded right. It wasn't an option on the troll taffy, though, since apparently the Empress wiped everyone with that color out.

What was so scary about it that she had to do that?

— BY ORDER OF —

The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts 

Students are hereby banned from ingesting anything that can change the color of their blood.

The above is in accordance with 

Educational Decree Number Twenty-six. 

Signed:

Dolores Jane Umbridge 

HIGH INQUISITOR

Day by day, Hogwarts was surprisingly becoming more like Alternia with each passing Decree. This one in particular sounded rather close to home for obvious reasons. Something, something, huge controlling bitch clad in pink telling everyone what they should be doing or else. Overnight, Troll Taffy was banned from being used during those nights of detentions with Umbridge, which understandably upset everyone involved, including Eridan.

Especially Eridan.

The small Ravenclaw had not moved from the spot where the Decree was posted, understanding that this meant that he'd have to, ironically, ingest the blood-color-changing potion every single time he had detention with the vile croakbeast—er, toad—woman.

Sirius offered to be the blood base for the potion over Trollian, as originally Snape had been using his own in small batches. Harry joked that since he was bleeding so much from the Blood Quills and no longer had the awesome healing factor from the Troll Taffy, they could just use his blood. Voldemort already had his blood, and if the Boy-Who-Lived was going to have a maniacal murderous bastard take his blood for a potion, he'd rather it be the fishtroll than Lord Noseless.

Snape did not take it as a joke, and now Harry was expected to head to the dungeons after every detention to donate for the potion. The things he did for friendship.

Later, Harry noticed that Eridan looked more… human… with red blood. There was a normal color to his complexion rather than the paler one usually given by the violet blood. If he changed the eye color to emerald green, got rid of the violet hair streak, painted a lightning bolt scar on his forehead… he'd make a shockingly good mini-Harry. Though even in human form, Eridan had freckles usually unseen in his grey carapace. Hey, if he changed his hair to red, would he look like a Weasley instead?

As if Mrs. Weasley wasn't ready to adopt all twelve trolls under her wing if she could. He had a feeling Grimmauld Place was going to be very full this summer. Sirius was going to be thrilled. And, well, quite a few of the trolls were curious about this ‘family’ and ‘parent’ business. Some of which were expected, like Feferi and Karkat, but even some surprising ones like Gamzee, Terezi, and most shockingly, Vriska. Harry only hoped they'd all behave when the time came. Hell, if they had better luck next year, maybe all the trolls could attend Hogwarts if they had the magic.

If.

It was one of the things Eridan talked with the Legacy (and some of the adults) about. The sea troll wasn't sure who had magic and who didn't. He suspected, per the Purifier's book where he learned that variant of Occlumancy, that trolls with higher amounts of psychic ability might have some variation of magic, or at least a close enough equivalent. If they were able to create Parasites like Moldyshorts could, then they had to have it in some capacity, right? Nitram was even able to successfully Occlude his mind from Serket's influence, which proved some of the abilities had to overlap somewhere.

So the Legacy, Eridan, and Aradia found themselves sneaking into the Room of Hidden Things again to gather any wands they found in order to pull an Ollivander on the other trolls and see if the magic reacted to them (like Sirius had told Eridan back when they first met, when the man had been launched through the Veil the first time). And they found… a lot of wands. Some were funky-looking, but most were usable. Ginny joked that these wands may have been made by aspiring wandmakers using dubious materials, hence the hiding.

While they were searching for wands, Harry had been drawn to a small, rusted box. Opening it, he saw some kind of mist swirling inside it. Weirder still, the box looked really old, and the vials were covered in a thick layer of dust, but there had been no dust on the box itself. Harry sneezed, and when he looked up, saw Aradia's grinning face inches away from his own. 

He blinked, fighting every immediate reflex to flinch. Instead, he only clutched the box tighter, before holding it up for her to see. She blinked, gave a thumbs-up, and did not elaborate before flying off to check out… yep, the five-legged skeleton (which was cool, for sure). Shrugging, he absentmindedly capchalogged the box in his modus, as they were doing with everything they got here since Umbitch couldn't snoop for it or confiscate it. 

After the Room shifted purposes again and the Veil was uncapchalogged, the Legacy went through and began to use the small study room to organize their finds. For science purposes, the Alternian dwellers could try out the wands themselves and see if there was a reaction, or better yet, sparks.

Aradia had vanished before they even went through, so they knew she was making her way here. Minutes later and she excitedly flew down via her telekinesis, nabbed the bone-white yew wand, and waved it about, sparks of red and maroon glittering over her. Her bleating laugh was nearly drowned by the cheers as she was dogpiled by the Legacy, Eridan clapping wryly nearby as if he expected this result. She'd left with said wand in hand, and people made bets on what kind of core the damn thing had. The main guess was probably thestral tail hair, which made a frightening amount of sense.

The rest of the pilfered wands would be left in the room for the other trolls to come in and try at their leisure, and Eridan added the upgraded cameras for surveillance and observation he'd commissioned from Equius. Soon they'll know how many extra students might be added the next semester. Bets were made, and laughs were had.

And when they all came out of the Veil, chatting and laughing, Professor Clay was standing there, hands folded behind them, idly rocking on his heels. They all stopped short.

“Dangerous to leave such a thing unguarded, don't you think?” Clay said without greeting, idly, as if chatting about the weather, head tilted to the side with that ghastly bone-white skull mask. “Where anyone can just walk in. Anyone at all.”

“Professor-” Hermione started, “We were just-”

“Oh, don't get me wrong, I have no qualms with your… extracurricular.” The Defense professor cut in. “This is not an admonition of your movements. But if I can find this place, then there will be others who can. Others who desperately, desperately, want to find you and catch you unawares. And one day they will. You cannot outrun it, it is only a matter of Time.”

It was clear to them who he was referring to.

“Something to think about, hm?” Professor Clay mused, bowing slightly before walking right out of the room, leaving them in silence.

Later, it was clear he hadn't said anything about it to Umbridge, or even Dumbledore. But at dinner, Harry caught his eye (if you called the void in the eyesocket holes ‘eyes’), and Professor made a motion with his finger like the ticking of a clock. All he could do was nod.

“So Eridan, you know what an animagus is, right?” Hermione asked the troll idly, breath becoming visible in the cold.

She, Harry, Luna, and Eridan tromp through the snow out of the Three Broomsticks, scarves wrapped tight around their necks (though the seadweller was less bundled up, which… yeah that made sense since he and Feferi would need to withstand the freezing temperatures under the ocean). Eridan had just been shown the unique experience of Hermione Granger practically play Legislacerator against a woman named Rita Skeeter.

“I'vve seen Sirius as a barkbeast, so yes.” he replied dryly, idly staring up at the winter sky, at the sun barely covered by the clouds, not burning his retinas out like it would have back on Alternia. He still didn't feel safe to try and stare at it without cloud cover, not like Aradia.

He wasn't sure what slight this ‘reporter’ did on Harry and Hermione, but the viciousness of which the bushy-haired girl controlled this adult human was frankly befitting of a highblood and made Eridan rather proud (Hermione seemed torn whether she should take it as a complement or be personally offended by the fact that this usually indicated a more warped moral compass).

“Oh good!” Hermione said, “Well, in our society, a witch or wizard who has successfully become an animagus has to register themselves, and their forms, with the Ministry, and it becomes public knowledge.” Eridan began to open her mouth, but she continued quickly, “What Sirius did would be considered illegal, but he's wanted for reasons that aren't his fault right now so his situation is a little more complex.” Eridan shut his mouth.

“Rita's a beetle.” Harry explained lowly with a shrug. “Found out last year, see. She uses it to spy on people for her reports. Unregistered, for obvious reasons. If it ever got out, she'll be hunted down for all the lives she's ruined, so…” 

The troll nodded, seeing the line of thought. He was nursing a bottle of butterbeer, which he'd learned he liked very much. Humans did have good food every so often, and the more time he spent around it, the more used to it he became. He was still coming to terms with the whole ‘becoming human’ thing. Hopefully it wasn't too permanent.

“I'm sure the article she will write about Lord Moldypants returning and Harry's account will be a nice addition to the Quibbler.” Luna stated serenely. “I'm sure Daddy will find it interesting as well. Although the ‘Ask Karkat’ column has also been doing quite well. He is very knowledgeable in the ways of relationships, and despite his wording, gives lovely advice. The readers have been sending more questions and we hope to expand it.”

“Is that wwhat Kar wwas on about wwith the advvice column? That wwas you?” The seadweller said, turning to the blond girl with wider eyes.

“He might be joining us next year, so I thought it would be nice if the world learned about trolls before they did, so none of you would have to hide when the time comes. I think that it would open a lot of avenues.” Luna replied, humming as she skipped in the snow.

Attending Hogwarts as a troll. Now that was a thought. Not with the pink-clad croakbeast around, but a hope for the next year was… comforting. He wondered how many others would end up attending. 

So far Ara, Sol, Tav, Vris, and Fef seemed to have the strongest affinities for magic other than Eridan himself, but Kar also managed to excite a reaction from a wand, even if it was an angry one (which fit Karkat Vantas rather well, to be fair). Seven trolls that had magic abilities. And more than half of them were lowbloods. There had to be some correlation there. 

More research would have to be done in the next half-sweep.

But wasn't that an exciting thought? Another ‘year’ learning magic! The past couple perigees had been incredible, even with the looming issue that was the High Inquisitor. He couldn't wait to do so again. But before that, he'd have to go hunting for Lusii to sate Gl'bgolyb for longer. The damn mini-horrorterror of a Lusus would start killing off trolls if it got too peckish, and it wasn't yet time to-

“Hey, uh, is it just me, or does Hagrid look like he went a couple rounds against a bludger?” Harry's voice broke Eridan from his thoughts as all of them saw a rather battered half-giant stumble into the pub. He had two cuts on his face, and quite a few bruises. “I don't think a blast-ended skrewt can do that.”

“Those cuts are from some kind a projectile, an the bruises look like they're from a large bludgeonin’ implement.” The ex-chronic FLARPer deduced after staring at Hagrid's face for a couple seconds, sipping at his butterbeer as if he were birdwatching instead. “He got bitchslapped by somethin big, that's for sure.”

The three humans and one troll watched the large man order a barrel of ale.

“...Huh.”

Aradia did, in fact, have some things to say about it. Not a lot, since she seemed to revel in being cryptic (something that wasn't just her trolling the humans, according to Eridan, she was just Like That), but enough to give them some kind of direction in this little mystery. 

According to the ram-horned troll, Hagrid had been going to the Forbidden Forest often for Reasons Unknown, but seemed to be keeping something in there. Equally, Professor Clay had been doing the same thing, but only in the middle of the night. When Aradia had asked him, the skull-masked professor told her he was ‘meeting some old friends and trying to move them to a more secure location’. Which may or may not be the same reason Hagrid is going in there. Then again, the Forbidden Forest was a big place.

Fred and George offered the idea that Hagrid and Clay were duking it out in the middle of the woods. This was during potions class, over Trollian, and Harry got detention for laughing out loud.

But the mystery of What Hagrid and Clay Were Doing was pushed aside once March's Quibbler edition came out with Harry's interview.

Luna had been skipping ever since it dropped. Apparently it was the most copies the Quibbler had ever sold in the history of the magazine, to the point where her father had to reprint it to keep up with demand. People had been badgering the Legacy about it, including Eridan (who did not appreciate it and at least chose to hex and jinx people in retaliation instead of outright shooting with Ahab's Crosshairs). Fred and George tried to charge for ‘inside information’, but were quickly shut down by Hermione. They decided to do a follow-up Q&A for the next edition of it and that seemed to quell things a bit, which was good, and also earned them a lot of letters from outside readers.

It also earned Harry a lot of ire from their resident eyesore, who docked him points for doing the interview at all, and also gave him another week's worth of detentions. By the end of this, the Boy-Who-Lived was convinced that “I Must Not Tell Lies” was going to be carved into his bones. But he grinned and bore it, because she was cracking.

 And like clockwork, the Toad retaliated in the most predictable manner after it blew up:

— BY ORDER OF —

The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts 

Any student found in possession of the magazine The Quibbler will be expelled.

The above is in accordance with 

Educational Decree Number Twenty-eight. 

Signed:

Dolores Jane Umbridge 

HIGH INQUISITOR

You'd think she'd learn by now not to ban things unless she wanted everyone to do the exact opposite of what she wanted. Like Troll Taffy still being purchased, just not used during detention, but if used after, actually helped with healing the Blood Quill wounds. Even though there was no sign of any Quibbler anywhere, clearly people had read it enough times to quote it verbatim, including not just Harry's interview about the Tournament, but also the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, which was just swept under the rug by Fudge. 

As a power play, the woman actually decided the best course of action to regain some ground was to start sacking teachers. And the first one she chose was Trelawney, the Divination Professor.

“No!” Trelawney shrieked, in the middle of the Great Hall, trunks next to her. A circle of students and teachers alike surrounded her, unable to do much else than watch. “NO! This cannot be happening… It cannot… I refuse to accept it!”

From the crowd, Harry spotted Professor McGonagall looking as if she wanted to strangle the toady bitch. Which was… less shocking to see than Harry expected. From within the throng, he also spotted Professor Clay lingering nearby, from the direction of his gaze, staring at a point off where the doors of the Great Hall were. Was he waiting for someone?

“You didn’t realize this was coming?” Umbridge said in a high girlish voice, sounding callously amused, “Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrow’s weather, you must surely have realized that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable that you would be sacked?”

Not that Harry agreed with the awful woman, but Harry did wonder about the whole "foreseeing the future of being sacked” business. Still, it was clear this wasn't about Trelawney's teaching ability.

“You c-can’t!” howled Professor Trelawney, tears streaming down her face from behind her enormous lenses, “you c-can’t sack me! I’ve b-been here sixteen years! H-Hogwarts is m-my h-home!”

At some point a smaller figure siddled up next to the older teen as Eridan watched the display almost dispassionately. He could tell there were gears turning in the disguised extraterrestrial head. Maybe he was comparing this to a culling. It kind of felt like one, in a way.

“It was your home,” replied Professor Umbridge, and Harry was revolted to see the enjoyment stretching her toadlike face as she watched Professor Trelawney sink, sobbing uncontrollably, onto one of her trunks, “Until an hour ago, when the Minister of Magic countersigned the order for your dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this  hall. You are embarrassing us.”

“So this is a cullin.” Eridan muttered under his breath as McGonagall went to soothe Trelawney. “So it's begun.”

“Begun?” Harry whispered as McGonagall mentioned Trelawney wouldn't have to leave the castle.

“She probably intends on replacin all the professors not up to her personal standard wwith her owwn minions, slowwly givvin her more authority ovver the school.” Eridan explained lowly, “She's already formin her owwn little squad of lackeys wwithin the student body, so the next step is her colleagues.”

Which Harry could see now, and it worried him of all of two seconds before out from the very doors Professor Clay was staring at came Dumbeldore, who immediately ruined those plans by a) reminding the woman she wasn't Headmaster and that meant that she didn't have the power to kick anyone out of the castle and b) he hired a new Divination Professor and it was a centaur.

The look on her face was worth putting into a Pensieve. Harry took a picture with his glasses. They could get it framed. In her office. On the door.

Eridan also appeared to be staring at Umbridge's expression upon seeing Firenze the centaur.

“She's afraid.” he breathed. “She wwasn't just shocked that day wwhen she saww my blood. She fears nonhumans.”

Harry turned to the disguised troll, who was grinning in a way that was positively Alternian.

“What are you thinking about?” The older teen asked.

“Levverage.”

After speaking with Professor Firenze for thirty seconds, Eridan had decided to never mention Aurthour or Equius Zahhak in his general vicinity. This individual was nothing like either of them or any of the other similar Lusii that only resembled Earth centaurs to the vaguest degree – though the light hair and coat with the addition of the blue eyes did make Eridan want to place him as a possible Lusus for cerulean bloods or even teal, although the shade of his eyes didn't exactly match the hemospectrum one to one.

The centaur had greeted Eridan as if he knew he wasn't human, and had mentioned that he owed Eridan's ‘father’ a great debt. While he didn't use Sirius's name outright, the disguised troll did know his name was “Ampora-Black” on the roster and perhaps the equine-leaning fellow made some simple deductions. What Sirius did and when wasn't mentioned, but from the way it was said it had to have been rather recent. 

Odd. Eridan was pretty certain Sirius was still home-stuck at Grimmauld Place. How was he able to get into the Forbidden Forest?

But Firenze did not choose to elaborate in favor of teaching the class.

It was interesting to see the stars, so different from Alternia's own, in this light. Mars was indeed rather bright, angling towards a very visible Saturn and an unusually flickering Pluto. Which Firenze explained meant that in one way or another, war was on the horizon. Which made sense considering the whole Dark Lord issue, but the way the centaur's pale blue eyes kept flickering to him made Eridan ponder. Did Firenze know more than just the will of the stars? If so, how could he ferry it out of the fellow without pissing him off?

In the meantime, Eridan had, as Vris would put it, all the irons in the fire. All of them. From the seeds he was planting in the minds of his friends, to the further studies of the Purifier's journal and further studies in magic. And even the small contingencies in place in case certain things go awry. Training the humans of the Legacy with FLARP so they can better take on the enemies of their own world. Unseen paperwork and leveraged information from a certain Junior Assistant to the Minister. With the growing determination of the scattered members of SHoRe, he was able to gather evidence upon evidence of the sins of the human croakbeast. Her desperation was making her sloppy, and he was sure that soon she would attempt to make a power grab, of which she would most likely succeed. And when she did, Eridan refused to bow to the likes of Her.

Once upon a time, he did, though. And that scared him a bit. If he'd never come here, never met Sirius, or Harry, or attended Hogwarts, he would not have seen his own world in such a warped mirror. He would not have found the book that was the Purifier's journal. He would not have seen the parallels, would not have realized their entire society was based on lies.

What would he have become? Yet another hapless puppet to Her Imperious Condescension?

The thought of him being a loyal, eager slave to the Empress—culling planets, quelling rebellions, silencing truth—sent a shiver down his spine. He could easily imagine it, and that scared him. More than he'd ever admit aloud.

Eridan knew he was playing a dangerous game. If somehow his machinations got back to the Empress, both planets were doomed. His friends, old and new, were doomed. They'd be crushed and culled and erased like everyone else in Her way (except there were stories that survived as an example, and he fully intended on improving upon where they went wrong). So he'd move slowly, and he'll practice his skills on this cheap imitation of the Condesce in the meantime. Hone his skills. Pour the water on the planted seeds. Start destroying the lies from within. Just like the Purifier did.

But… he knew he wasn't the only one making plans here. He could feel it in his horns, in his blood-pusher. Someone… something else was at play here.

It had been an offhand comment by one of the Weasleys, the one surprisingly competent with a rifle, that had alerted Eridan to this first. Percy had mentioned that during his sixth year, before Ginny was taken by the Parasite of Riddle in the form of a Diary, a certain ram-horned ghost girl had led him to where Harry, at his wit's end from being accused of being the Heir of Slytherin. It had opened his eyes to how much this little boy was carrying on his shoulders. He'd ended up comforting Harry at the time, and the two of them parted ways with a better understanding of the other (and later, Harry would stand up for the Head Boy being a worrywart when his littlest brother got bit by a dog-that-was-a-man a year later).

Aradia had also, after that, led said Head Boy during one of his patrols to a tarot deck that he consulted rather often. It was what he used, when he was unsure of what decision to do, to guide him towards the better path. Apparently it was only really useful when used in conjunction with Arithmancy, calculating probabilities after the cards showed the possible outcomes. The royal-blooded troll wasn't sure what to make of the orange-and-yellow sun motif on the back of the cards when Percy took a picture of them, but it was how he decided to take the Junior Assistant job and also told him that Voldemort was indeed back.

Eridan itched to ask the current Junior Assistant to the Minister more questions on the deck (which now explained why his fetch modus was a tarot deck and not just an ordinary deck of cards), but he was more concerned with what the hell Ara was doing.

The only answers she gave him were, as usual, cryptic as hell.

Fuckin infuriatin.

Another unsettling thing was that someone was clearly helping the other side as well. Eridan realized this after listening to Harry's interview with Rita Skeeter less than a week ago. This Dark Lord rises again during the tail end of the Triwizard Tournament, and within days is able to break out his compatriots from magical wizard prison under everyone's noses, and then immediately headed into a classified Ministry area without much in the way of espionage? How was he able to gain traction so quickly? How did he know exactly where to go? Is he just a hypercompetant bastard like Eridan was? Or did someone help him? And why? And if they were still helping him, why hasn't the guy taken over the planet by this point?

How did he already know about the Parasite connection enough to lure Harry into that place? And why? What Prophecy could be so important that the Dark Lord wanted the boy whose Lusii-equivalents (parents?) he murdered to be there for it? Or was it about trying to see if the Boy-Who-Lived was a part of said Prophecy?

The fact that Harry and the others weren't killed in the fight was a fuckin miracle in and of itself. They all had been woefully unprepared, and if Severus had not realized the younger humans were missing and gone to the Headmaster (Eridan learned this from Sev during a Trollian chat when the violet seadweller went digging down this leapbeasthole), and had the remnants of the old Order not been mobilized in time, they'd all be very, very dead.

It wasn't just luck. It couldn't be.

What had become glaringly clear is that someone was moving things around behind the metaphorical curtain and Eridan's was a hair's breadth away from torching everything in order to draw this individual out from said burning curtain. But then again, had the incident at the Department of Mysteries hadn't happened, Sirius would not have fallen through the Veil, and if he never fell through the Veil, Eridan would not be here.

When he dreamed in the comfort of his recupracoon, he heard the dominoes clicking as they fell, faster and faster, into a shape that he felt he recognized in his soul but couldn't for the life of him make out. Equal parts trepidation and hope and dread. And a name that sent shivers down his spine, and despite its simplicity, he couldn't recall it, as if the act of knowing the name itself would doom them all.

All he could hear was the T1CK T0CK of a grandfather clock ringing in his earfins when he woke.

Vriska Serket was a difficult Clouder to work with in FLARP, but Harry had realized he did better when she was at the helm. That or Terezi Pyrope. He chalks it up to being because he was always dealing with life or death situations in general, and nothing had been as bad as the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. 

The scythe he was given as a present made for a good weapon for his class, the Sepulchral Harvester, which Aradia also used. Regardless, it made cleaving through the generated enemies a breeze (although the pumpkin thing was… odd?). He was getting better at using the surroundings to his advantage, and Terezi liked to employ murder whodunits in her sessions (which Hermione and oddly enough Ron were always very good at) that made Harry attempt to use his brain for deduction.

…He was better at fighting in the moment than planning anything, but he tried.

Regardless, he was getting better. The rest of the Legacy was getting better. They were bonding with the trolls, and mildly abusing Eridan's Time-Turner (unless it was during a free period).

The more Harry learned about Alternian society, the more he understood why the militant seadweller was so put-off by Umbridge. It was some bizarre mirror of their own society, and the violet blooded troll was not liking the conclusions he was coming to. Feferi had once mentioned offhandedly that she was happy to see her moirail so empathetic, but the Gryffindor wasn't sure if ‘empathy’ was the word for it. Eridan was a lot of things, but empathetic wasn't one of them. Hermione surmised he might be mildly sociopathic, and… maybe? He could see it. But it was hard to tell with Alternia being Alternia and by Merlin the murderous lightning-bolt horned troll was trying to be good.

With OWLs and training, two months flew by in an instant. Umbridge was being a pain about things as per usual, now targeting Hagrid as her next victim of possible sacking. She was bound to go after the non-humans as well. The half-giant was an easier target than someone like Professor Flitwick, but it was clear her watchful eye and her slight sabotaging was taking its toll on the Care for Magical Creatures Professor. It was only a matter of time.

Due to Professor Clay's warning, there was always at least one person guarding the Veil to Alternia when they had it open in the Room of Requirement. From both sides.

Which was good, because when Eridan apparently got a warning from Percy that Umbridge had made a breakthrough, they immediately deduced he meant they'd been found out. Games were dropped, all things they didn't want found were capchalogged (including clothes and after they all filtered into the Room of Requirement, the Veil), and they tried to scatter before they were caught.

Something FLARP had honed in him was a sixth sense of sorts, and he dodged a tripping jinx from Draco Malfoy, who had concealed himself in a niche beneath some ugly dragon-shaped vase that would have had Terezi cackling over. The pureblood ponce's face was getting to be a nice red. Harry spun around, wand in hand. He'd been caught, but not downed.

“Malfoy, nice evening we're having, eh?” He greeted the Slytherin with an easy grin he'd honed since the hearing at the beginning of the summer.

“Don't play coy, Potter, you've been caught.” the snow-blond bastard hissed out, his wand trained on Harry. “Hey, Professor — PROFESSOR! I’ve got one!”

Umbridge came bustling around the far corner, breathless but wearing a delighted smile. 

“It’s him!” she tittered jubilantly at the sight of him standing there (though he capchalogged his wand with a bit of sleight-of-hand to make it look like he pocketed it, he'd learned from Eridan's little incident not to assume she wouldn't try to confiscate it). “Excellent, Draco, excellent, oh, very good — fifty points to Slytherin! I’ll take him from here…”

And thus he was nabbed by the toad and taken to Dumbledore's office. 

Dumbledore, of course, was sitting behind his desk, his expression serene, the tips of his long fingers steepled together. Professor McGonagall stood rigidly beside him, her face extremely tense. Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, was rocking backward and forward on his toes beside the fire, apparently immensely pleased with the situation, already a bad sign for whatever was in store. Kingsley Shacklebolt and a tough-looking wizard Harry did not recognize with very short, wiry hair were positioned on either 

side of the door like guards, and the freckled, bespectacled form of Percy Weasley hovered blank-faced beside the wall, a quill and a heavy scroll of parchment in his hands, apparently poised to take notes, giving Harry an almost imperceptible nod.

And… Professor Clay was sitting in an armchair, sipping tea in that odd way where no one was sure how it went through the mask so smoothly. He kept trying to offer the others a tray of tea politely, and most of them (bar Dumbledore and Percy) refused.

“Well,” began Cornelius Fudge, glaring at Harry with a kind of vicious satisfaction upon his face. ““Well, well, well...”

“Erm…” the Boy-Who-Lived looked around and at the desk. “Are we counting the inkwells in here or…?”

Professor Clay coughed suspiciously as Umbridge and Fudge glared at the innocent-faced fifth year.

“He was heading back to Gryffindor Tower,” simpered the awful toad woman as her nails dug into his arm. There was an indecent excitement in her voice, the same callous pleasure Harry had heard as she watched Professor Trelawney dissolving with misery in the entrance hall. “The Malfoy boy cornered him.”

“Did he, did he?” replied Fudge appreciatively. “I must remember to tell Lucius. And the… creature?”

Creature? Surely they didn't mean…

“It will be found, Minister.” the vile High Inquisitor tittered out. “It can't hide forever, and when we find it, it will be dealt with. Such a dangerous creature needs to be put down.”

He suppressed a shiver. Yeah, they were talking about Eridan. Luckily, the chances of them finding the troll, disguised or not, were slim to none. The little seadweller's stealth skills were frankly terrifying.

“Well then, let's move forward in the meantime. We don't have all day.” the Minister stated eagerly, gripping what appeared to be an edition of the Daily Prophet in his wrinkled hands. “Do you know why you are here, Potter?”

The delinquent of Little Whinging shook his head. “Not a clue, sir.”

“I am afraid most of us are still in the dark, Cornelius.” Dumbledore said smoothly from his seat.

“Allow me to enlighten you then, Albus.” the wizard in the lime green bowler hat sneered.

The edition of the Prophet was unrolled for all of them to see:

A TROLL AT HOGWARTS!

HEADMASTER HARBORING DANGEROUS CREATURE MASQUERADING AS A STUDENT?

Beneath the headline was a rather grotesque caricature drawing of a familiar seadweller. Dread pooled in Harry's stomach. How did they find out? No students outside the Legacy knew about Eridan being a troll and the only ones outside of the Order that knew were Flitwick and-

Clay continued to idly sip from his teacup as McGonagall's head snapped sharply to him. Lo and behold, in the front page article:

…Professor Mortimer Clay gives his testimony to seeing the creature, called a troll—yes, a troll—possibly a cousin species of a mountain troll or a hybrid with a mermaid, in its true form. Word has it that it is being kept as a weapon against the Ministry by the Headmaster of Hogwarts and its minder, Harry Potter. By day, the creature masquerades as an ordinary third year Ravenclaw…

Something hot prickled under his skin. Fear. Rage. Betrayal. Why? Why would Clay do this after being so helpful? Why teach them all ways of getting away with things just to stab them in the back like this?!

“This is tonight's special evening edition of the Daily Prophet.” Fudge crowed proudly. “By morning, everyone will know your awful secret, and since admitting full non-human students is against Ministry Law, especially one that has harmed a Ministry employee on multiple occasions and nearly took Dolores's life, I'm afraid this is the end of the line for you, Albus!”

“Mortimer.” McGongall breathed to Clay, nostrils flaring and eyes wide, “How could you do this?”

Clay, even under the glare of one Minerva McGonagall, simply set his teacup down delicately. 

“Ah, well…” his voice, always warped behind his mask, sounded almost sheepish. “You see, Dolores is a wonderful colleague, and the one thing I learned from her gracious teachings of the subject is that I must not tell lies.”

Harry felt his heart stop for a second. Umbridge seemed to be used to his cryptic responses as long as they were in his favor, and was positively giggling since they both knew what was carved into Harry's hand, apparently. But McGonagall was not having it and gave him the most withering, thin-lipped look that the Gryffindor thought was only reserved for the pink cardigan-wearing devil.

He scratched the back of his hand, staring hard at Clay, whose black void mask holes seemed to stare right back at him. Meanwhile, Fudge looked like he'd just won the lottery as he smirked at Dumbledore.

“You will now be escorted back to the Ministry, where you will be formally charged and then sent to Azkaban to await trial! And once that awful beast is captured, you'll have no more secret weapons against the Ministry!”

The fifth year watched the verbal ping-pong match with a kind of nervous energy, which escalated to wands being taken out, and then a blast rang out as the other auror, Dawlish, was dumb enough to cast a spell. Harry, on honed instinct, put up a shield spell and backed up. Somehow, Clay had been sitting in a spot that was safe from the blast, and was still sipping his tea mildly (how!?). Percy had somehow leapt onto one of the shelves stuck to the wall (you know, dealing with the twins all the time as their favorite target probably did serve as training…) to avoid the blast. 

Dumbledore and McGonagall were staring at the three of them as if they weren't expecting that.

“Well, Mortimer,” Dumbledore began with a twinkle in his eyes despite the situation, “It seems your prediction was correct.”

Professor Clay was staring up at where Percy was perched in consideration, before humming and offering tea to those not knocked out. The redhead jumped down from the shelves with an almost feline grace. Oh, he's definitely been taking pointers from someone.

“I find that history tends to repeat itself, though not always the exact same or in the same order, but it repeats, and with those patterns comes a better chance of figuring out what happens next. A pattern repeating ad infinitum, a Cycle spiraling closer to its zenith.” Clay mused idly as McGonagall gaped and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. 

Oh thank Merlin, they were just in on the bit!

“Albus, you're saying…?” McGonagall began, turning to Dumbledore, who nodded.

“Indeed, Mortimer came to me with a plan to deal with Cornelius and Dolores that would make sure the public understood that they would even silence their own wrongdoings in order to discredit me and Harry.” The Headmaster explained jovially, “It would require a slight bit of spectacle, and I would need to leave the school for a bit, but I am now certain it will be in good hands.” He smiled at Clay, taking the tea offered by him. “Though, I am curious how that article was written so quickly, I was only told of this plan this afternoon.”

Eyes turned to Percy.

“Eridan reached out to me months ago about making an article to the Prophet outing himself in order to destabilize Madame Umbridge.” he admitted quietly, eyes trained on those knocked out. “When Professor Clay spoke of his ‘witness’, it was easy to simply add it in.”

“He what!?” the young Parselmouth hissed.

“Serendipity, or perhaps fate. Sometimes they are one and the same.” Clay riddled out as he poked Umbridge with the point of his shoe. “When we look back on today, I hope we can laugh at it instead of cry.”

“I'm sure it will make for a lovely memory, Mortimer.” Dumbledore said kindly.

“Yes. Making memories is quite important. And keeping them as well. You never know when someone else can learn from it.” the cryptic Defense Professor mused, taking out a… muggle marker… and drawing flies on either of her cheeks, and then a Notice-Me-Not charm on said flies. “I like to keep them in little boxes, but sometimes I forget where I put them. Hm… this is a good look for her. Ribbit.”

“Cannae believe there's one barmier than Albus.” Professor McGonagall muttered under her breath.

Those on the ground began to stir. Clay stepped back from the now-vandalized Umbridge, who shifted a bit, with a sigh. “And the curtains rise.”

Fawkes took off from his perch and began to circle Dumbledore, who looked around at everyone.

“We shall meet again. I have some business to attend to, so, Mortimer, I elect you as interim Headmaster.” Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore said sagely as eyes began to open from those on the floor.

“Yes, I- wait, what?” Professor… Interim Headmaster Clay sputtered, coughing tea into his lap. “Wait, no, why-”

Dumbledore winked at Harry before Fawkes swooped low, and he grasped the phoenix's tail feathers and they both promptly vanished in a flash of firelight.

And all hell broke loose.

“Where is he?” yelled Fudge, pushing himself up from the ground. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know!”

“Well, he can’t have Disapparated! You can’t inside this school-” 

“The stairs!”

“Weasley! Head to the Ministry to get things moving!”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mark my words, Minerva, this is the end of your friend Dumbledore!” 

“You think so, do you?”

As people began to panic, run around, and search for him or otherwise clear the office, Harry and Clay only stared at the spot where the former(?) Headmaster had disappeared.

“You, uh…” the fifth year Gryffindor began, “You didn't know he was gonna do that, did you?”

The skull-masked man's gaze did not move, but there was a sag to his shoulders which told Harry everything he needed to know.

He pats the man's back awkwardly.