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Chapter Text

Harry Potter was four years old. He was sitting in his bedroom by himself. Today was his birthday, but you couldn’t tell that by looking around the house. There were no decorations, no balloons, and no cake.

His family wasn’t even at home with him. His mother, father, and sister had left in the morning to attend a party where she was the guest of honor. It was to celebrate her defeat of the dark lord.

Harry had asked to come along, but was told by his parents that the part was for Glory, not for him, and they didn’t want anyone to get confused.

It hadn’t always been this way. Last year, they had given him a party. It was obviously not as big as the party they had for Glory, but they made him a cake and got him a present.

Harry had asked them what he had done wrong, promised to be good, but they had just brushed him off, saying that they would talk to him about it later, but he knew from experience that it would not happen.

“Hello Young Master,” Darby said as he appeared with a soft pop. 

He was the head elf of Potter Manor, and had been around long before even Harry’s father was born.

Harry looked up from his bed at the wizened house-elf. His face and hands, covered in wrinkles, were a testament to the long life he had lived. He wore a dark gray uniform with the Potter crest proudly displayed on it.

“Hello Darby,” Harry said sadly. 

“I have something for you, Young Master,” the old elf smiled as a small cake appeared in his hands.

Harry looked down, a genuine smile slowly appearing on his face as he stared down at the chocolate cake. It had white lettering that said ‘Happy Birthday Harry.’ A cake just for him!

Harry jumped off the bed, running up to the elf and hugging him tightly. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank You!!”

“Young Master,” Darby said in alarm, trying his bed to keep the cake from getting squashed between them. “Your cake will not survive much longer if you’re not careful,” he warned.

Harry stepped back sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“That’s quite alright, Young Master,” Darby said as four candles appeared on the cake. “Remember to make a wish before blowing out the candles.”

Harry looked down at the cake, wondering if his wish was too big. Was it more likely to come true if he wished for something small? Should he risk it and ask for something big?  

‘I wish my family would remember me,’ Harry thought before blowing out the candles. 

“Will you eat the cake with me, Darby?” Harry asked hopefully. 

“That would not be proper, Young Master. House-Elves do not eat in front of the Masters,” Darby recited from his training from so many years ago.

“... Oh,” Harry said, looking down sadly. 

Darby let out a small sigh as he looked at the Young Master. He was a good child, kind, and would one day make an excellent Head of House, but only if the neglect he was facing came to a stop.

“Very well, Young Master, but we can not make a habit of it,” Darby said, watching the child’s face light up again.

Four Years Later…

Despite Harry’s wish, things only continued to get worse for him as the years went on. What started out as neglect gradually changed to annoyance, then to irritation.

Glory took up more and more of their parent’s attention, from the various events and functions that she got invited to.

This, along with their parent’s obvious favoritism for their golden child, influenced Glory as well. She was the center of attention, the one that people wanted to see, the one that received all the love and adoration.

She changed from a somewhat spoiled, and attention seeking child to one that craved attention, not caring whether it was good or bad, because in the end there were no consequences to her actions, for her at least.

No matter what she did or said, her parents were always there to smooth the ruffled feathers, or more increasingly Albus Dumbeldore sweeping everything she did under the rug.

Despite it all, Harry did his best to stay positive, leaning on Darby more and more for the love and attention he had stopped receiving from his family. The birthday cake he received from the old house-elf quickly became the highlight of his year. 

Darby always waited until the rest of the Potter’s were away, or late into the night when they were asleep, before he brought the birthday cake to the Young Master. 

He had never gone behind his Master’s back before, never had a reason to hide anything from the Head of House, but he knew deep in his bones that if they found out about the small kindness he was giving the Young Master, they would take it from him.

He worried deeply for the Young Master. He knew it wasn’t proper being so familiar, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to stop. 

Darby knew he was no longer a young elf, and he couldn’t help but wonder. Who would be there for the Young Master when he was gone?

The other two elves who served the Potter’s were young. They did not understand the unspoken duties of a house-elf to their charges. They did not understand what was left unsaid was just as important as what was said.

Darby turned his attention to the Young Master and his mother. He could only watch as she berated him. He wished he could put a stop to it, but knew that was not the place of a house-elf.

“Harry, how many times have I told you?” An exasperated Lily Potter said, shaking her head at the now seven-year-old Harry.. “You are not to touch your sister’s things.” 

“It isn’t even hers,” Harry pleaded. “You gave it to me for Christmas when I was three, don’t you remember?”

“Why am I even arguing with you?” Lily said as she pulled the teddy bear out of Harry’s hands and gave it to Glory. “You’re too old for teddy bears anyway,” she said as she walked back to the kitchen

“See,” Glory said with a smirk. “I always get what I want because I’m the hero. I saved everyone from the dark lord.” Glory said that proudly. “You’re just plain, stupid, Harry.”

“I never said that they wouldn’t give it to you,” Harry sighed sadly. “It’s just important to me. Can you please give it back?”

“I didn’t know it meant that much to you,” Glory said, feigning concern, giving Harry a sliver of hope before ruthlessly crushing it. “That will make this so much more fun,” she said as she cruelly twisted off the teddy bear’s head and threw both pieces to the ground.

Harry could only stare at the last Christmas present he had ever received, lying in pieces on the floor as Glory walked off laughing.

When Glory and Lily were gone, Darby picked up the two pieces of the bear. “Do not worry, Young Master,” he consoled. “We shall have it fixed in no time at all.”

“... No,” Harry said, shaking his head, “no.”

“I don’t understand, Young Master,” Darby said in confusion. “You love this toy.”

“It’s just something Glory can use to hurt me… Please get rid of it,” Harry said, walking into his bedroom.

Harry stayed in his room for the next three days, only leaving briefly to use the washroom. Darby and the other house-elves had to bring food to his room, just to make sure he ate.

As Darby looked back upon those dark days, he realized he had never been more afraid in his life. Every night he worried, sometimes not even being able to sleep at all. 

Would the Young Master still be there in the morning? ‘Would he?… no, it was best not to think of such things.’

It was with a great amount of relief, and the longest three days of his life, that the Young Master finally emerged from his room, but he was not the same boy anymore.

Some of the innocence was gone, replaced by a pain that lingered just below the surface. 

When Darby checked the Young Master’s room, he realized why. Everything was gone. The few toys he had, the pictures that he had drawn, even the small collection of rocks that he had collected over the years.

It no longer looked like the room of a small boy. It looked like a room that belonged to no one.

One year later…

Darby watched as the Young Master was berated by his father, James Potter. That man was no longer the Master of the house, at least in his eyes. He knew thoughts like that were scandalous for house-elves, perhaps even traitorous, but he no longer cared.

He had watched over the past year as James Potter’s casual indifference to the young master changed to outright hostility, berating him at every opportunity.

Darby knew that he was biased, that his loyalty to the Young Master ran deep, but the way James Potter spoke made him angry. He accused the boy of being good for nothing, a waste of space, even going so far as to call him a shame to the Potter name.

Darby had a very long memory though, and he knew very well the type of child James Potter was. He was certainly not who he claimed to be. The boy was clumsy, thoughtless, and forgetful. 

As much as the Old Master, Charlus Potter had tried to teach him, James Potter was equally resolved to learn nothing. The only time he listened was when the Old Master told him stories of the Potter’s long past. 

The boy would run around the house pretending to be those men, reliving their past victories, their past glories, somehow believing that he had played a part in their accomplishments, their greatness, and that he too should be celebrated for their victories.

Darby wondered if perhaps the man did not want a reminder of his youth, because that was what the Young Master was to him, a spitting image of James Potter in his youth.

As much as James Potter thought himself to be a great a man, as great as his father was, and the Potter’s that preceded him, he was not. That was clear for anyone to see. 

Every opportunity the Old Master gave for James Potter to show his worth, the boy had ruined. It often came down to a lack of planning, interest, or patience.

The ideas he brought to his father had been even worse, calmly dismantled by the Old Master, thankfully, before any actual damage could be done. 

Darby returned his focus to the present. As much as he wanted to defend the Young Master, he knew he could not. It was not the way of house-elves. He could only watch and hope the Young Master would be ok.

“What the hell did you think you were doing?” James demanded as he roughly dragged Harry into the house. 

“I’m sorry sir, I tried to get there in time,” answered a frightened Harry. 

He had learned that blaming Glory would only make things worse for him, and telling his father that Glory had gone into the cave, even after he told her it was not safe, would not end well for him.

“Your sister could have been seriously hurt!” James roared. “How could you be this useless?” He demanded.

“The ghoul hit me more than Glory. Most of the blood on Glory is mine,” Harry said as he tried desperately to defend himself. 

Glory had somehow got the idea in her head that because she defeated the dark lord, it made her some kind of powerful sorceress and she should go on adventures, defeating dark creatures and more evil wizards. Nevermind the fact that she had no magical training to speak of, let alone a wand.

“You think you can talk your way out of this?” James asked in a quiet voice, betraying his anger. 

“I tried… I did my best,” Harry said, desperately hoping that for once, his father would believe him.

James reached out quicker than Harry could react, giving him a hard slap to the face, sending the young boy sprawling to the ground. “Get down to the cellar, you will stay there for a week, and don’t expect any dinner tonight either!”

This was James Potter’s latest in a long list of punishments for Harry. He had gone so far as to order the house-elves to make sure Harry didn’t eat anything.

Darby clenched his fists tightly. He wanted so much to hurt the man now, even at the cost of his duty. If only he was a few years younger, but he was old now, too old to face down a wizard in his prime. 

His magic was failing him. He struggled to perform his duties, the younger elves having to take on more and more of his workload.

“Come, Young Master, it will be alright,” Darby said soothingly. “Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, offering his hand.

“Thanks Darby,” Harry said quietly as he got to his feet.

Another year later…

Harry helped Darby sit down on the bed. The old elf was having trouble standing up for long periods of time. His hands shook now, making it difficult for him to take care of himself, and his health had been getting worse of late.

“I should be the one helping you, Young Master,” Darby said bitterly. “It is unseemly for an elf to carry on this way.”

“I don’t mind, Darby,” Harry replied. “You’ve taken care of me for so long. Let me take care of you now.”

“Very well, Young Master, but just this once. I do not want to make a habit of it,” Darby replied. 

“You always call me Young Master,” Harry observed, “but never Harry, even though I’ve asked you to.”

“It is not how things are done, Young Master. I am your servant, and it is my duty to you,” Darby replied.

“I never thought of you that way, you know that right, Darby? You’ve always been more than that,” Harry asked sincerely.

Darby’s eyes softened. The Young Master had a knack for getting him to set aside what was proper. “I know.” 

“You’ve told me so many stories about the Potter family, but not about your family. Why is that?” Harry asked.

“House-elves are not the same as your kind,” Darby explained. “We need the permission of the master of the house to have children, and we do not marry the way you do.”

“When we have children, they only stay with us for a time, just until they are old enough to survive on their own.”

“What happens then?” Harry asked.

“They go to a market where they are bound to a wizarding family, and serve them for as long as they are able,” Darby explained.

“Why can’t they stay with their parents?” Harry asked.

“A house-elf’s loyalty must always be to the family they serve, above all else,” Darby answered. “This can not happen if we must choose between our children and our duty.”

“Did you have children?” Harry asked.

“I have a son,” Darby smiled.

“Do you miss him?”

“Yes, but it is complicated,” Darby explained. “I wish I could see him, what he has made of himself, but we elves can feel each other. I know he is alive, I know he is doing his duty, and when my time comes, he will know I have passed.”

“What about your wife? Where is she?” Harry asked.

“As I told you, Young Master, house-elves do not marry, but she passed, some thirty years ago, long before you were born,” Darby explained.

“Was she a Potter house-elf too?” Harry asked.

“She was. Her name was Minny,” Darby explained with a yawn.

“What about your son? What’s his name?” Harry asked.

“His name is Dobby,” Darby replied, yawning again. “I am sorry young master, I am feeling more tired than usual.”

“That’s ok,” Harry said. “Why don’t you take a break? We can talk later.”

“Nonsense Young Master, I may be a little tired, but I can still serve,” Darby denied.

“I know you can,” Harry smiled. “But I want you to take a break,” Harry said as he made his way to the door.

Harry watched as Darby lay back on the bed. The old elf would never admit it, but he was exhausted, and they both knew it. 

“Just one last thing, Darby,” Harry said as he turned around to face him again. “Just once. Do you think you can call me Harry?”

Darby didn’t reply, but his eyes were still open. “Darby?” Harry asked as he stepped back into the house-elf’s room.

~***~

Harry stood in the forest behind Potter Manor. Darby had died two days ago. He had known it was coming soon. They both had, but he thought they had more time. 

After 180 years of loyal service, it felt wrong that Darby was laid to rest in an unmarked grave, just left there, to be forgotten.

His family had barely even batted an eye, ordering Mipsy and Ganby to ‘take care of it,’ like he was an unsightly mess to be swept up.

He had not cried since he was four, but he did when he realized the light had left Darby’s eyes. 

Harry would always remember him, a house-elf that went out of his way to comfort a small child that no one in the world had time for. He had set aside his long-held beliefs, customs and duty, just so that boy wouldn’t feel alone.

The world would be a darker place without him in it.

Another year later…

“That’s the mail,” Glory said excitedly. “Mom, Dad, do you think I got some more fan mail?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” James said as he sat down for breakfast, smiling.

“Don’t keep your sister waiting.” Lily said with a scowl. “Go get the mail.”

Harry quickly left the kitchen, returned quickly with the mail, knowing what would happen if he took too long. 

He first handed a stack of letters to Glory. The others were mostly bills, which he handed to his father, but something caught his eye. 

The last letter, it had a seal he had never seen before. It was addressed to him.

“What’s that?” Glory asked as she pointed to the letter in Harry’s hands. 

“I don’t know,” Harry said. “The letter has my name on it. Is it a mistake?”

“Let me see that,” James said as he yanked the letter out of Harry’s hands. “I don’t believe it,” he said with a shocked laugh. “All this time, I was so sure you would turn out to be a squib.”

“What does it say?” Harry asked curiously.

“It’s a letter to go to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Lily said as she glanced at it. “I suppose we should get your school supplies,” she finished in a bored tone as she looked at the list.

“What!?” Glory demanded indignantly. “Why does HE get to go to Hogwarts before me? I’m the savior! Make him wait until after I go to Hogwarts!”

“Oh, James… that’s a good point,” Lily agreed. “What will people think if they see him first? He’ll just make a bad impression like he always does. It could hurt Glory’s reputation.”

“The letter is from Albus,” James explained. “We can’t just ignore it, besides what will the other noble houses think if we don’t send him?”

Harry held back his smile. He couldn’t let them see him react, but he was thrilled. There was a way out for him. He just had to graduate Hogwarts and he could leave. He would never have to see his ‘family again.’

~***~

Harry sat in his room. He had been waiting, hoping for this letter for as long as he could remember. He couldn’t wait. 10 months out of the year, he would be away from Potter Manor.

The school ‘supplies’ his parents got him were pretty much what he expected. The books were his father’s, so they were at least 30 years old, and if that wasn’t bad enough, they were not well taken care of either. The pages were ripped and dogeared, some of the covers were torn off as well.

Harry hoped the curriculum hadn’t changed too much over the years, or he might be in serious trouble.

The less said about his ‘new’ wand, the better. He could tell, just by looking at it, that it was old, very old. When he held it in his hand, it felt empty, for lack of a better word, like the core had just faded or decayed.

The school robes were worn and faded as well, most likely his father’s old ones.

The trunk was as old as everything else, but far higher quality than he had expected. It was larger on the inside and also included a tent for camping. There was even a shrinking charm built into it as well. 

Harry was convinced the only reason they gave it to him instead of his mother’s old trunk was the thick layers of dirt and grime that covered it when they found it in the attic. After a quick clean, however, it looked brand new.

Harry had been reading the books in the Potter library for years, and memorized the names of some of the common spells. 

He hoped his foresight would help make up for the setback that the outdated school books would undoubtedly cause.

The library also contained a lot of muggle books about science and history as well. They were not up to date anymore, the most recent book being about twenty years old, but he read as many of them as he could.

His father hadn’t really done anything to keep the library up to date after his parents had passed, preferring to spend much of his free time on the Quidditch pitch instead.

Harry started making plans. After he finished Hogwarts, he knew he would be on his own. His best chance for a good life was to leave the wizarding world behind and try to build a life for himself in the muggle world.

He hoped he could make friends with a few muggle born at Hogwarts, so that he had a better idea of what to expect.

It startled Harry when an angry Lily Potter stormed into his bedroom, practically smashing his bedroom door open.

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?!” Lily demanded.

Harry was caught off guard, didn’t know how to respond. “What?… What’s going on?”

“What. Did. You. Do. To. Glory’s ROOM?!!” Lily demanded angrily, screaming out the last part.

Harry cringed inwardly as he processed what was going on. It was, after all, one of Glory’s favorite things to do. She smashed or destroyed something while she was having one of her fits and then blamed him for it. It wasn’t a particularly clever plan, but Lily and James never questioned her, and they always believed her over him.

“I…” Harry began, trying once again to explain, before Lily interrupted him.

“Don’t you dare lie to me!” Lily interrupted. “Just admit it!” 

Before Harry knew what was happening, an angry James Potter smacked him in the face, sending him tumbling to the ground. 

Harry clutched his face as he stumbled to his feet, trying to get his bearings.

“I want you out of this house,” James hissed.

Harry made a quick retreat, not even attempting to take anything with him. As he ran down the hallway, he couldn’t help but stare in shock at Glory’s room.

She had truly outdone herself this time. Literally everything was smashed, even the windows and parts of the wall.

Harry made his way to the front door as he heard his ‘family’ stomping towards him. He opened the door, getting outside, trying to put more distance between him and his father.

They all knew what had happened, what Glory had done, but none of them would speak the words out loud.

“You are no son of mine, do you hear me!?” James shouted.

Harry didn’t say a word. It was nothing new. What would have even been the point? They wouldn’t listen to him, anyway.

He quickly made a dash to the forest that surrounded Potter Manor, hoping they wouldn’t chase after him.

He only stopped when he made it to the cover of the trees, letting out a sigh of relief when he could no longer see them behind him.

His family didn’t realize that he had his trunk in his pocket when they chased him out of the house.

Not only did it contain all his school supplies and books, but also some food from the Potter Manor kitchens, as he could take without them noticing.

Harry could see the writing on the wall for days. Glory was not as clever as she pretended to be. He didn’t know exactly what she was going to do or when, but the way she acted the last few days, he knew it was going to be bad.

This wasn’t even the first time they threw him out of the house, but he vowed to himself that it would be the last. He would go to Hogwarts, graduate, get a job, make some money, and then find some place no one had ever heard of the Potter name and go there.

It was a few hours later and Harry had walked into the forest further than he had ever been before. He knew he was well past the Potter lands by now.

He had hoped to find a road that he could at least follow into a town, but he eventually realized that he was hopelessly lost.

Harry angrily kicked a log and sat down on the ground in frustration. 

It had all seemed so simple when he left. He would find his way into the nearest town, make his way to the leaky cauldron, and spend the rest of the summer before September there.

As soon as he knew what a galleon was, he searched around Potter manor for every one he could find. That along with the food in his trunk was supposed to get him through until he reached Hogwarts, but he would be lucky at this point just to get out of the damn forest.

When he set off, he was so sure there would at least be a stream that he could follow to civilization, but there was nothing here other than trees and the occasional large rock.

Harry pushed his way through a large thicket of trees and landed feet first in a small lake. He growled in frustration as he looked down at his feet. Now not only was he lost, but his legs were soaked and covered in mud.

As Harry looked out at the lake, it seemed oddly familiar, even though he was positive that he had never seen it before. 

That’s when his head started spinning and he started feeling dizzy. He crumpled backwards, landing with a thud on the muddy ground.

That was when the pain started. Harry clutched his head, screaming. It felt like rusty nails were being hammered into his brain.

He did not know how long he lay there screaming. It felt like hours, days, years. They were all passing him by, and he could concentrate on nothing else except the pain.

Finally, mercifully, Harry passed out.

~***~

Harry woke up with a splitting headache and immediately shielded his eyes from the sun. He must have passed out for at least a couple of hours because it was now early evening. He tried to remember what happened to him, only to stop immediately as the headache immediately got worse.

Harry groaned as he slowly got to his feet. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before.

It felt like his brain was lit on fire. His first thought was to see a healer, but he knew the meager amount of galleons he had was nowhere near enough. All he could do was wait until he got to Hogwarts and hope that it wouldn’t get any worse. 

He trudged around the lake, eventually finding a footpath to follow. It was dark by the time he reached a small town, but he was finally out of the forest.

Harry knew he didn’t have the muggle money for a motel, so he would have to camp out for the night. He set up the tent he found in the trunk, and feeling both mentally and physically exhausted, fell asleep almost immediately.

Hi everybody, I thought I would post a bit of a bonus chapter for Legacy of Merlin. I've been reading the review for the story, and the most common complaint is the first chapter.

Looking back at it, I can see where the reviews are coming from. The Potter's are a bit over the top, and there wasn't much context to explain how they got there.

I was initially planning on doing this with flashbacks because I didn't want the start of the story to drag on and take away from the action/adventure of the story.

I didn't spell out exactly what Harry and Darby thought of each other, but I hope their actions conveyed that.

Do you prefer the old chapter version or the new version of the chapter?

thanks for reading!

Jumpin

Chapter Text

The Legacy of Merlin

Chapter Two

Harry woke in the late morning, his dreams had been strange and confusing to say the least. He dreamed of people that seemed vaguely familiar, that he felt like he should have remembered, but the dreams changed so quickly from one to the other that he had no idea what was going on.

He made his way out of the tent, packing up quickly. If he was lucky he could leave before anyone noticed him. His stomach growled, but it would have to wait. He had another long day ahead of him and he needed to find his way into London.

As he made his way out of the forest, he realized quickly that he was not the only one that decided to camp out in the woods. He had stumbled upon a camp ground last night but must have been too tired to notice.

As he looked around he realized that there were quite a few families around him, even some children running around and playing together.

There was also a man sitting outside his tent in front of a campfire cooking breakfast. Harry felt his stomach grumble again as he smelled the bacon and eggs cooking.

The man must have heard him walking by because he stood up and waved. “Hello there, good morning.”

Harry stopped and waved back, picking up on the man’s American accent, “good morning.”

“Great day for camping isn’t it?” The man asked with a friendly smile.

“...Yes, I just have to go to-” Harry started to say.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I must be keeping you from your family. They must be wondering where you are,” the man interrupted.

“No…” Harry answered. The last thing his family would be doing now was looking for him. His stomach chose that time to grumble again.

“My name is Ben, Ben Parker,” the man introduced himself as he looked at the boy in front of him, getting a bad feeling about the boy’s circumstances.

It looked like the boy was starving, probably had slept in his clothes the previous night, and was covered in dirt and a few twigs.

“I’m Harry Potter, pleasure to meet you,” Harry replied.

“Well Harry, I was just about to have breakfast. Would you care to join me?” Ben asked. “I seemed to have made more food than I had intended.”

“No, that’s okay,” Harry replied, even though he was starving. “I was going to eat later in the afternoon.”

“Please I insist,” Ben replied. “Besides, you're doing me a favor, otherwise I'll have to throw out the rest.”

Harry thought about Ben’s offer. It did smell good, and it wouldn’t slow him down too much. “Well… if you don’t mind,” Harry said tentatively.

“Great,” Ben smiled as he placed some bacon and eggs on a plate for Harry.

“Thank you,” Harry said as he took the plate and sat down.

It seemed a little strange to him that someone else would just offer up their food to him, but maybe he was telling the truth, and he really did cook too much food?

As Harry started to eat he looked over at the man sitting beside him. He was American, that much was clear from his accent. He had brown hair and blue eyes, and looked to be in his late thirties, possibly early forties.

“So Harry,” Ben started. “How long have you been camping out?”

“It was just since yesterday,” Harry answered.

“How many more days are you going to be camping?” Ben asked carefully.

“I’m going to be starting boarding school soon,” Harry answered. “So I think this will probably be my last night.”

“Boarding school? That sounds exciting. Would I have heard of it?” Ben asked.

There was something about Harry that Ben couldn’t shake. He seemed like a good kid but something felt off.

“No, probably not,” Harry answered. “The school is really old though. My family has been going there forever.”

“What about you?” Harry said changing the subject. “It doesn’t sound like you’re from around here.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Ben smiled. “I’m from America, New York to be exact.”

“What are you doing all the way out here?” Harry asked curiously.

“Well, I’m an army man, or at least I used to be,” Ben answered. “Honorably discharged about ten years ago, but when I was in the army I was stationed here for a few years. I promised myself that when I left the army I would see the rest of the country. I spent a little time in France and Italy, visited a few museums, Stonehenge, the White Cliffs of Dover too.”

“That sounds exciting,” Harry said wistfully. “I’ve always wanted to see the world.”

“Well, there’s plenty of time for that,” Ben replied. “I’m sure that when you finish school you’ll be able to go wherever you like.”

“That’s true,” Harry realized. He had planned to get away from his family once he graduated, but he hadn’t really given it much thought beyond that. Why not see more of the world?

“So what are your plans for today Harry?” Ben asked.

“I have to go into London,” Harry answered.

“Well, in that case I want you to take this,” Ben said as he reached into his wallet, and pulled out 200 pounds.

“What?” Harry asked in surprise. “You don’t have to do that, I’ll be fine on my own,” he said as he pushed the money back to Ben. He was not used to getting help and didn’t really know how to respond to it now.

“Look Harry, cards on the table, I think you’re a good kid but something isn’t right, you're in some kind of trouble. You don’t have to tell me what it is,” Ben added when he saw Harry was about to protest.

“One day, a long time ago, someone helped me when I really needed it, when no one else would even give me the time of day.

I offered to pay him back when I got the money, but he told me to pay it forward. He said that the next time I met someone that needed help, to give it to them instead,” Ben explained.

“Why would you help me though?” Harry asked, confused. “You don't know anything about me. Why do you think I even deserve it?”

“I don't,” Ben replied. “And to be honest with you, I’m not sure that I deserved it either. I was just some snot nosed kid that got dealt a bad hand.”

Harry knew that he should take the money, he could definitely use it, but none of this made any sense to him. Why would anyone give up their hard earned money to someone else, and for nothing in return?

All his life the people around him had always just taken what they wanted, no one had ever given him anything before. He was told that he didn’t deserve the things he had, that someone else, usually Glory deserved it instead of him.

“I think you made a mistake. There is someone else that you should give this to instead of me.” Harry said as he pushed the money back to Ben.

Ben laughed at Harry's response, confusing the boy further. “Harry, I haven't spent all this time looking for just one person to help,” Ben explained. “I've done this for lots of people. you are not the first and definitely won't be the last.

I like to think that what that man started, rippled out into the world, and that I wasn't the only person he helped.”

Harry wasn't sure how to respond to that. Could there really be lots of people like Ben in the world?

“Why help though? What do you get out of it?” Harry finally asked.

“If you're asking me if I got rich, then the answer is no,” Ben explained. “I've actually lived a very normal life, none of the people I've helped have ever come back and rewarded me, not that I would want them to either.

It's more than that. Life isn't just about wealth, influence, and power. There has to be more.”

“What else is there?” Harry asked.

“There’s compassion, understanding, and kindness to start with, and when you put that out into the world it has a way of coming back to you.”

Harry was about to disagree with him, he certainly hadn't received anything like that before today.

“I know you don't understand yet, and that's ok,” Ben explained. “Just know that you are worthy of receiving help, everyone is.

Please take the money, and if you can, help the next person that you meet, and I promise you that you will understand.”

“Thank you,” Harry said as Ben handed him the money.

He had never met anyone like Ben before, but the things he said, the way he spoke. He so badly wanted to believe it, for it to be true.

Harry took one last look at Ben before turning and leaving the camp ground.

~***~

It was a couple of hours later that Harry found himself in London, near a bus stop.

He used some of the money that Ben gave him to buy a bus ticket that would stop near the Leaky Cauldron.

He hoped that there would be enough money to stay until the start of Hogwarts but he supposed that he could also camp out again and come back a day or so before the train to Hogwarts.

Harry stepped off the bus at his stop and made the short walk to the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry stood outside, staring at the entrance for a moment, then took a deep breath and stepped inside.

As he looked around the bar he could see that there were a few witches and wizards sitting at tables, and a few having drinks at the bar.

It was nowhere near full, but it was also the middle of the afternoon.

Harry walked up to the bartender. “I would like a room until the start of Hogwarts, how much will that cost?”

“That'll be 2 gallons a night, meals are 3 sickles extra, but lunch and dinner comes with a butter beer,” the bartender explained.

Harry mentally counted out how many galleons he would need. It was just the start of August, and Hogwarts started on September 1st.

That was twenty nights, added to that meal as well. He didn't know how much food he had in his trunk, but it wouldn't be enough to last the whole month.

If he was lucky he could stretch it for at most ten days.

He would have to figure out something for the rest of the month.

“I’ll stay for the night then.” Harry said. He was way too tired today to find somewhere else to stay.

“Alright then,” I'll show you to your room. “The name is Tom by the way, I'm the owner.”

“Nice to meet you,” Harry replied.

As they were about to walk up the stairs Harry noticed a copy of the Daily Prophet sitting on the bar. “Do you mind if I borrow this?” Harry asked.

“Sure, have at it,” Tom said agreeably. “I just finished reading it myself.”

“Thank you,” Harry said as he picked up the paper. Maybe if he was lucky he could find a job to make up the rest of the galleons he needed.

Harry sat down on his bed after Tom had left. The bed was against the wall and there was a window that looked out over the town. On the right there was a small desk and chair.

Overall the room looked old, but clean.

Harry still had a few hours before dinner so he decided to take a look at Daily Prophet.

The headline was about the latest defeat of the Chudley Cannons.

‘It must be a slow news day,’ Harry mused.

The Cannons were universally acknowledged as the worst team in the league, and another loss to add to the streak was nothing special.

Further down the page there was an advertisement for the new Nimbus. When he was younger he had dreamed about getting one, but when he had asked for one the dream died a quick death.

On the next page was the politics section, which Harry quickly skipped over as he looked for the wanted section.

He knew it was a long shot to find someone willing to hire a kid that hadn’t even started his first year of Hogwarts but he was desperate.

As he flipped the page something caught his eye. He didn’t know why but there was something oddly familiar, so he began to read.

Team of American Wizards attempt to open Merlin’s Treasure Vault

An American team of wizards attempted to solve Merlin’s cypher and gain access to the famed vault of Merlin, long thought to contain treasure, ancient spell tombs, and possibly even Merlin’s personal journals.

The ministry has obviously claimed the contents of the vault as culturally and historically significant to the people of Britain, however they have established a reward for solving Merlin’s Cypher.

It was originally the sum of $10,000 galleon, which even now is a considerable sum, but it has also been accruing interest at a rate of 4% in Gringotts for the past 100 years, turning into a veritable fortune of over 500,000 galleons.

The American team claimed to have found a codex of Merlin’s within a hidden tomb in Syria that gave clues to solve the cypher. With it, they were able to solve the first cypher, something that has never been done before.

Unfortunately, the second cypher was far more complex than the last, and just like every other person to attempt to solve the cypher it ultimately ended in failure.

However, this attempt was a significant step forward and the first major breakthrough of the last several hundred years.

It has reignited interest in Merlin’s vault, and a whole new group of treasure hunters has taken up the challenge.

Minster Fudge applauded the efforts of the American wizards and welcomed anyone else willing to attempt to solve the cypher.

Harry looked at the newspaper with a frown. There was something very familiar about this, it itched at the back of his mind, somehow he knew it was important, but he didn’t know why.

Harry put the newspaper down, and lay down on the bed, deciding to get some rest before dinner.

It was nice to sleep in an actual bed after the forest the previous night, before he knew it his eyes were closed and he was asleep.

~***~

Harry woke up with a start, he had the same strange dreams, just like the previous night, thankfully the headache that came afterwards was nowhere near as severe as the first one.

There were more people and places that he had never seen before, he wished that he could make sense of what was going on.

Harry felt his stomach grumble, interrupting his train of thought.

He made his way downstairs to the bar, sitting at the table.

Tom made his way over. “We’re serving minced pie with a side of mixed vegetables for dinner.”

“That sounds good,” Harry said.

“Coming right up,” Tom smiled.

“Wait Tom, do you know anything about Merlin’s vault?” Harry asked.

“I see you read the article, exciting stuff eh?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed.

“Those Yank wizards, first ones to try in almost ten years. You know I lost 10 galleons on them? Bet one of the regulars the yanks would actually do it. I still haven’t heard the end of it.”

“Why was it so long since someone last tried?” Harry asked.

“Well, it’s not exactly 10 years,” Tom clarified. “The rules say anyone can try, a lot of school kids give it a shot when they hear the story. The yanks were just the last ones that anyone believed had a chance.”

“So anyone can just try?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, you just have to get in line with everyone else,” Tom explained.

“Where is the vault?” Harry asked.

“Ha!” Tom laughed. “I did the same thing when I was your age, obviously didn’t have any luck, but still quite the day. You can either take the night bus or muggle bus to the British museum, it’s in the magical section, you can’t miss it.”

“So what do you plan to do with the galleons?” Tom asked.

“I don’t know,” Harry said truthfully. He hadn’t really thought about the galleons, his mind had just been on the vault, something was pushing him towards it.

“How did Merlin’s vault end up in the museum? It sounds like the vault existed before the museum was built,” Harry asked curiously.

“It did, if I remember right, the vault was found in a cave inside Ashdown forest. They moved it to the British Museum some time back,” Tom explained.

“Good luck kid, I hope you have better luck with the vault than I did. I’ll be off to get your dinner.” Tom said, making his way to the kitchen.

Harry sat in silence as he thought about what Tom had said. Something was compelling him to go to the vault, something he couldn’t understand. He didn’t know what he would find there but he knew it was something he had to do.

He barely noticed when Tom set down his food in front of him. Could this be related to the strange dreams he was having?

~***~

Hi everybody, thanks for reading. I am going to post the third chapter in the next two weeks and any feedback you have on how the story is going so far and what you think will be greatly appreciated.

thank you,

Jumpin

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Harry woke up early the next morning, the same dreams as before flashing across his mind, but far more intense than before. 'What did it mean?' he wondered. What was happening to him?

Merlin's vault had preoccupied his mind ever since he read the newspaper. He barely got any sleep last night thinking about it. It wasn't the galleons that he was focused on, or even the contents of the vault, but the cipher itself that had drawn his attention.

All thought of what to do about his lack of funds, or even the food he would need until Hogwarts started was a distant second thought.

He left the Leaky Cauldron early in the morning so that he could arrive at the museum when it opened. He hoped that by seeing the vault he could get it out of his mind so that he could focus on his more immediate concerns.

When the bus stopped at the museum, he got outside and marveled at the size of the building; it was truly incredible, both in size and beauty. He walked past the large columns of the entryway, making his way inside.

There was an archway that appeared as soon as he was inside that the muggles seemed to move around without even noticing.

'That has to be the entrance to the magical side of the museum' Harry realized, remembering what Tom had said.

As soon as he stepped through, he noticed a line had already formed to the right. It looked as if there were at least 20 families ahead of him. It was mostly children around his age that were interested.

He realized that he would have to wait quite a bit longer for his chance to see the cypher than he expected. Before the line could get any longer Harry stepped in behind a large family of redheads.

Rita Skeeter, reporter for the daily prophet let out a sigh. This was the absolute last time she would do a favor for Limus Filhous. These boring articles about museums and history were his job, not hers.

'Try something different,' she said to herself mimicking Limus's voice. 'It's a nice simple job. It might even be fun.'

The problem was the article she wrote about the American wizards and Merlin's vault were apparently far more interesting than the editor Barnabus Cuffe had expected.

Now she was stuck here for the rest of the day interviewing a bunch of kids that cold barely tie their own shoes let alone solve a puzzle that had confounded the wizarding world for more than a thousand years.

She should be out there, investigating, and exposing the scandals of the rich and powerful she lamented.

Rita let out a long-suffering sigh as she saw yet another child join the queue. It was going to be a very long day indeed.

She had already interviewed a few children and their parents near the front of the line.

Even though the Americans had figured out the first symbol of the cypher was fire, the children were struggling to get even that now.

She suspected the parents were helping with that part because the gong sounded every now and then to announce part of the cypher had been solved.

Rita supposed she should get this over with and walked towards the line again, her cameraman Bozo following along.

She did not know why he was even here, it's not like these kids would do anything worth taking a picture of.

She walked past the dark-haired boy with the messy hair that just joined the line and up to to the gaggle of red heads.

"Hello," Rita said, plastering a fake smile on her face. "I'm Ri- "she began to say before she was interrupted by the apparent mother of the redheads who grabbed her hand shaking it vigorously.

"Oh yes, you're Rita Skeeter, I'm such a big fan of your work! Tell her Arthur! Children, stand up straight, on your best behavior," she said enthusiastically.

"Yes, thank you, it's so nice to meet a fan," Rita replied, fake smile still in place as she extracted her hand from the overly excited woman.

"And you are?" Rita asked.

"Oh, where are my manners?" The woman blushed lightly.

"My name is Molly, Molly Weasley. This is my husband Arthur," she patted his arm.

"Over here is Percy," she pointed to her son, "and these are the twins, Fred and George."

"My two youngest, Ron and Ginny" Molly said as she placed her palms on the children's head.

"So what brings you and your family to the museum today?" Rita asked, only half paying attention as she already knew the answer.

"Well, we read the Prophet of course," Molly beamed. "It was so exciting to hear the Americans got as close as they did, solving the first part of the cypher, especially after so much time.

"It reminded me of my second year at Hogwarts, that's when I first found out about Merlin's vault. As soon as Christmas vacation started I practically dragged my parents here to give it a try."

"What about you Mr. Weasley? When did you first try?" Rita asked.

"Oh, just Arthur is fine," he replied. "I think it was fourth, no, fifth year. My mates and I were in town during the summer, we decided on a lark to give it a try on a lark."

"And what about you kids?" Rita asked, taking a moment to look down at her quick quill notes to make sure it was writing everything down. "Are you excited?"

The youngest of the children nodded their heads vigorously.

"I'm going to buy Fortesque's ice cream shop when I win," Ron bragged, "that way I can have ice cream every day!"

The youngest, Ginny looked like she was about to speak when she seemed to lose her nerve and quickly turned around hiding her face.

"You'll have to forgive Ginny," Molly said apologetically. "She's a bit shy."

"Of course," Rita nodded. "What about you boys?"

"I would like the opportunity to test my skills and knowledge," Percy replied somewhat pompously. "I'm sure that if I make a good showing, it should help my future career opportunities."

"We want to open," George said.

"A joke shop," Fred continued. "We can give old."

"Man Zonko a run for his money," George finished confidently.

"Well, good luck to all of you," Rita said as she walked away.

"The day barely started, and it feels like it's never going to end," Rita said to Bozo when she was out of earshot.

Bozo just nodded, not saying anything as he took a few pictures of the crowd.

Rita watched over the next few hours as she saw the line get larger and larger. Every now and then she heard the gong as someone 'solved' the first part of the cypher that the Americans did previously.

Cuffe had made it clear that she had to be in the room when anyone figured out the first part of the cypher in case they were able to get the next one.

Rita was finally able to take a break and sit down when the gong went off again, and just when she had gotten comfortable too. She groaned as she got to her feet and walked back into the vault room again.

She saw a boy there; he seemed familiar. That's when she remembered it was the red-headed boy from earlier in the day. His family was off to the side, clearly he was the last in the family to try.

The vault door itself was a thing of beauty she had to admit. It was made of solid gold, but enchanted to be harder than diamond. The depictions on the door itself were also a work of art.

It showed Merlin holding his staff in the center of the door, and around him were King Arthur, Queen Guenevere, and the knights of the round table.

Around them were the symbols for each of the planets intricately carved, along with ancient runic script.

The script alone took over 300 years to decipher, as it switched between runes of different countries and dialects as it flowed across the vault door.

'Here lies the final resting place of Myrddin, son of Balinor, grand wizard of the high court. Let those who are worthy claim my mantle.'

When the words had been deciphered the mural on the vault had appeared. There had been many attempts to cut or break through the vault door over the centuries, but all those attempts hadn't left behind so much as a scratch.

The knowledge of how to create the enchantments alone would have easily been worth more than the solid gold door itself if not for the artwork carved into it.

There were six cyphers arranged around the vault door. The one at the very top that was solved by the Americans and had been the first major breakthrough in hundreds of years.

They were four triangles, each made of a precious stone. The first was a ruby, the second was a clear diamond; the third was an emerald, and the last was tanzanite.

They could be moved and rotated into any position and placed in any order but could not be removed from the vault door itself.

It was already theorized a long time ago that they had to be arranged in a specific sequence or order, and every variation had been tried long ago.

Somehow when the Americans did, it revealed the next cypher.

After a long series of questions by the ministry and other experts in the field it was revealed that the symbol the Americans created was the depiction of fire, and more importantly, the vault could also sense intent.

It could tell when someone knew the answer, and when they were guessing, then it reacted accordingly.

Rita watched with a bored gaze as the red-headed boy stared intently at the next cypher that appeared on the right.

This one was far more complex than the last. There was a large number of red and blue sapphires, as well as a single emerald Just on the outside of the cypher. Each of them was the size of a galleon, and there were so many of them that they spread across the entire vault door.

Rita watched as the boy stared at the new cypher for a long time, before touching one of the emeralds.

The door of the vault flashed white and cypher's returned to their original positions and reset.

Just like every other attempt today, it ended in failure. The boy walked off to join his family and presumably head home.

Rita started to turn around when she saw a messy haired boy approach out of the corner of her eye. She furrowed her brow in thought; she hadn't remembered speaking to him.

Rita just shrugged as she turned around, looking for another unoccupied chair to rest her feet, but turned back quickly as she heard the gong sound.

'That was much faster,' Rita thought to herself. 'Faster than anyone else had been today.'

This boy, whoever he was, moved with a confidence that she didn't see from anyone else, not even the Americans who had been the first to solve it.

He paused just like everyone else, but unlike everyone else it seemed he was counting rather than just staring.

She could only see his back now, but she could tell he was staring intently at the cypher. Unlike the others that tried, he seemed unwilling to touch the cypher right away.

Finally, almost five minutes later, she watched him touch one of the red sapphires and move it to the center. She expected to see another flash and the vault door reset, but nothing happened.

Her eyes grew large as the boy touched one of the blue sapphires this time, moving it to the center as well, and again the vault did not reset the cypher.

She chanced looking over at Bozo to make sure he was doing his job, but just like everyone else he was staring in rapt attention as the boy moved more of the sapphires into place.

Rita shoved Bozo hard. "Start taking pictures you idiot," she hissed at him quietly, not wanting to distract the boy.

Bozo shook himself as he got to work, taking pictures as the boy moved sapphire after sapphire into the center of the vault door, always alternating between red and blue.

The room had gone dead quiet as they stared at the boy.

As the boy moved each sapphire he drew closer and closer to solving the cypher. Rita could practically feel the excitement in the air.

Quietly, more and more people filled into the room to watch.

Finally, when he moved the last sapphire to the center of the vault door, there was a flash. Rita felt her heart drop when she saw the flash, but when she looked again, the vault had not reset.

The crowd gasped as the sapphires had been replaced by a circular cut diamond the size of a quaffle.

Now all that was left was the emerald, Everyone held their breath in anticipation, wondering what the boy would do next.

The boy slowly reached for the emerald moving it towards the center, but stopped just short. The emerald then moved around the diamond's orbit.

To everyone's surprise there was another emerald, exactly where the first one originally was. They watched as he moved that one as well, and then it too floated around the diamond.

Just like with the sapphires, he placed more and more around the diamond. Finally he dropped his hand to his side and stared intently at the cypher.

"26 red sapphires, 26 blue, and 30 emeralds," Rita counted out, wondering what it all meant.

What was it that the boy created? How did he know to arrange it the way he did? A moment passed, and then another, yet nothing happened.

As the seconds passed Rita felt her excitement ebb. Had the boy failed? But then she heard it, loud and clear. The gong had sounded again.

The room erupted into deafening cheers! Most shocking of all to Rita was that she caught herself cheering with everyone else.

The boy didn't seem to hear any of them though, because he was staring intently at the third cypher.

It was even more complex than the last one. There were even more sapphires than before, and a single emerald.

Rita watched as a museum worker practically ran to the fireplace, floo calling the ministry demanding to speak with the minister.

Rita could not hear what they were saying, and absolutely refused to leave from her spot, watching the greatest mystery of the wizarding world being solved before her eyes.

It became obvious what they were discussing when the minister himself quickly stepped out, followed immediately by a group of Auror's.

She watched as the Auror's attempted to disperse the crowd to no avail. No one here witnessing what was happening would give up their front-row seat for all the gold in Gringotts. They eventually just formed a perimeter around the minister and blocked the door to stop anyone else from entering.

The Minister looked as astonished as everyone else. Just days ago some of the greatest wizarding minds had got closer than anyone in hundreds of years to solve the cypher of Merlin's vault.

And now here was a boy, perhaps even a first year Hogwarts student that had surpassed even them.

Minister Fudge straightened up, adjusted his bowler hat and purposefully stepped toward the boy. "Hello there," he said clearly. "I am Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic of the United Kingdom. Please identify yourself."

Rita watched the boy, wondering how he would react, but he didn't even turn around.

"As the Leader for Magic of the United Kingdom I demand your identity-" Fudge said more forcefully as he took a step closer.

This proved to be a mistake because he impacted against some type of shield, shoving him back a few steps, and nearly toppling him over. It flashed blue, where he touched it, rippling outward. It looked almost like a pebble impacting a placid pond.

The flash of light seemed to have caught the attention of the boy because he spun around.

Rita could tell he was shocked as his eyes widened and he stumbled a few steps backward.

He then tried to speak, or at least his lips moved, but there was no sound.

Rita tried to read his lips but she couldn't, it looked as if he was speaking gibberish.

The boy stepped forward, but just as he did there was another blue flash, he was trapped on the other side of the barrier.

Minister Fudge stared at the boy, not sure what to do next either.

"Get Bones and Croaker in here," he finally decided, "Maybe they know of a way we can communicate with the boy."

"That won't work Minister," Rita said as she stepped forward.

"Rita Skeeter?" The Minister said in surprise, "What are you doing here?"

"I was here for a follow-up article about the vault," Rita explained to him.

"What do you mean it won't work?" The Minister asked.

"I can read lips, one of the benefits of the job," Rita explained. "And what he is saying is absolute gibberish."

"Maybe you're not as good at your job as you think," Fudge snapped back.

"Get them in here, that's an order," the Minister demanded to the Auror standing next to him.

The Auror quickly marched to the fireplace and called for Amelia Bones and Saul Croaker.

A few minutes later Amelia Bones was the first to step out. "Minister Fudge," she greeted as she walked up to him.

"Good, Amelia you're here. We seem to have a problem. There is some type of barrier separating us from the boy," Fudge summarized. "We need a to find a wat to communicate with him."

Amelia said nothing for a moment, staring at the boy, who was also looking back at them.

She pulled out her wand, but instead of casting a spell formed words in the air. 'Who are you?'

They all watched as the boy looked at the glowing letters. He just seemed to be more confused now.

They watched as he then used his finger to trace out some strange symbols in the air.

"I told you this would not work, Minister," Rita reminded him.

"What do you know about this Skeeter?" Amelia demanded.

"I can read lips," she repeated.

"What did he say," Amelia demanded.

"That's just it, Madam Bones, I couldn't understand anything he said. I think The barrier is not letting us communicate with him, or him with us." Rita explained.

"Why do you think that is?" Amelia asked.

"If I had to guess, I would say the cipher does not want there to be any outside interference. It wants the child to solve it on his own." Rita answered.

"Very advanced magic," Amelia mused out loud.

"Could we really expect any less from Merlin?" Rita asked.

"Minister Fudge," Bones said, turning to face the Minister. "The Obliviator teams have cleared the muggles from the museum, the official story for the muggles government is a gas leak."

"We have closed off all entrances, but we have no way of clearing the witches and wizards already inside the museum."

"Why not? Your Aurors should have no problem clearing out about a hundred witches and wizards." Fudge asked.

"We estimate the number to be close to five hundred inside the museum, Minister. For the moment they are calm, but if we attempt to use force, things could escalate quickly. Considering the potential loss of life, as well as danger to the museum itself, I would advise against it." Amelia answered.

"Quite right," the Minister said as the implications hit. "I can't imagine that would look good for my reelection campaign," he joked.

From the looks on Amelia and Rita's faces the minister could tell his joke had not gone over as well as he thought it would have.

"Rita Skeeter, because of the current circumstances I order you not to publish or disseminate these discussions until the situation is resolved," Funde ordered.

"What? You can't do that! I have a responsibility to the wizarding public to tell the truth." Rita denied.

"Actually he can," Amelia corrected. "You provided pertinent information to an ongoing incident that affects the safety and well-being of the general wizarding public."

"You also received information about the ongoing incident directly from two senior ministry officials that you could not have reasonably obtained from any other source."

"At this point we consider you an agent of the Ministry of Magic, and we will consider public discussion or dispensing of this information treason."

Rita's jaw dropped after Madam Bones finished speaking. 'If only I had kept my mouth shut, I could have avoided all this.

"… Yes, exactly right Amelia," Fudge said. "I was just about to say so myself."

Both Bones and Skeeter looked at the Minister, both unimpressed.

"Anyway, there are a further 4000 wizards surrounding the museum. The time has long since passed for keeping this contained." Amelia added.

"4000?!" Fudge said in shock. "But that's almost half the wizarding population of the United Kingdom!"

"I have called in every available Auror, and reassigned all Aurors on non critical assignments to crowd control. If this is not managed correctly, we will have to request additional foreign Aurors from the ICW." Amelia continued.

Minister Fudge paled at the implications, his political career was on the line. "What is going on? There was nothing like this when the American wizards solved the first cypher." Fudge asked.

"There is quite frankly, a lot. The wizarding public knew about the American's attempts weeks before they even tried. It was reported on extensively in the foreign press. Also, when the foreign wizards got to the next cypher they failed immediately, in effect ending the story."

"But what's happened now? A British child solved a puzzle the greatest wizarding minds could not solve. It's inspiring, and more importantly, the story is still happening." Rita explained.

"What would you do?" The Minister asked.

"I would set the boy to work on the puzzle instead of staring at us," Rita advised. "The longer this goes on for, the more likely that the situation is to escalate."

All three of them looked at the boy then, and he must have come to the same conclusion as them because he turned around to face the cypher again, followed by another cheer from the crowd.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

Minister Fudge, Madam Bones, and Rita Skeeter stood, just at the edge of the barrier, staring intently at the boy.

A team of ten Aurors, behind them, but facing the crowd of hundreds of witches and wizards. All of them were staring intently as the boy worked.

Just like before, the boy moved the sapphires to the center of the vault door, one by one and alternating between red and blue.

“Does anyone know who the boy is?” Amelia asked.

“Maybe,” Rita said as she thought about it for a moment. “I didn’t speak to him, but he was standing behind a family of redheads, they may know.”

“Where are they?” Fudge demanded.

“Over there,” Rita said as she pointed them out. “They were the ones that tried before him.”

“Aurors bring them here,” Fudge ordered.

“Hello sir,” the father greeted from behind the Auror’s.

“Please identify yourself,” Madam Bones ordered.

“Arthur Weasley, I work in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, and this is my family.” Arthur explained.

“Alright Aurors let him through,” Fudge ordered.

“That boy, he was standing behind you in line. Did any of you talk to him? Do you know who he is?” Fudge asked, taking charge.

“I don’t,” Arthur admitted. “But my children did briefly. Children please, tell the minister everything you know. This is very important.”

The second youngest Ron, stepped forward. “Yeah, I talked to him a bit, seemed like a good bloke. He said his name was Harry.”

“Did he say a last name?” Amelia Bones asked.

“No,” Ron said, shaking his head. “He didn’t really say much else, figured he was just nervous. Do you think he could do it though?” He asked excitedly.

Almost in answer to his question there was another flash of light.

The boy, Harry had amassed all the sapphires together, and just like before the sapphires were replaced with a large diamond.

“Do you know what the pattern is? Why did he arrange the gems the way he did?” Rita asked.

The redhead Ron, was pretty quick with the first cypher and Rita hoped he could offer some more insight into what was going on.

“Not really,” Ron admitted. “I know the first cypher is fire because of what the Americans figured out. This next one must relate to it somehow.”

Rita nodded, agreeing with the boy. “The child, Harry, understood what the cypher was, I could tell just by watching him. If anyone can figure this out, it will probably be him.”

“A first name isn’t much to go on though,” Amelia Bones added. “We need to find out as much as we can about him, this is now a matter of national security.”

“Wait, he said one more thing,” Ron remembered. “He said he was starting Hogwarts this year.”

“...Starting Hogwarts?” Fudge said astounded. “He was able to do all this with no formal instruction?”

“That’s actually an enormous benefit for us,” Amelia realized. “The Hogwarts book of record will have his full name, we can call Dumbledore and find out who he is.”

Fudge’s thoughts soured as he realized the implications of involving Dumbledore.

He wasn’t just the headmaster of Hogwarts, but also the Supreme Mugwump, a skilled politician that knew how to get every drop of political capital out of any situation. At the very least, he would insist on coming to the museum himself.

Bringing in Dumbledore was a double-edged sword, however.

He would most definitely take some of the credit for how the situation was handled thus far, but also if things went pear-shaped he would also be made to bear some of the responsibility as well.

At this point though, they needed information desperately. There were too many questions, too many unknowns.

The ministry needed a clear response to what was happening. He needed to be seen doing something instead of just standing here, watching as a child took all the glory for himself.

“Alright call Dumbledore, he’s likely going to demand to come here in person,” Fudge instructed. “Make sure it’s only him, the last thing we want is the full Wizengamot here as well.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Amelia asked.

“Remind him that this is a potentially dangerous situation that could escalate quickly.”

“The ministry’s priority will be to resolve the situation, and will not be providing security of any kind to any single individual, only the wizarding population as a whole.”

“As you say minister,” Amelia said as she made her way to the fireplace.

Fudge inwardly grinned. If Dumbledore was dumb enough to bring anyone else to the museum, just the idea of them being in danger would cost him a lot of political capital.

Rita never took her eyes off of Harry. ‘It was 158 sapphires this time, and so far 54 emeralds and counting.’

A few moments later the headmaster of Hogwarts appeared, thankfully with no one else.

“Dumbledore,” Fudge demanded. “We need to know the last name of that boy, we believe he will start Hogwarts this year.”

“Simply astounding,” Albus said, ignoring Fudge for the moment. “I never thought that the cypher would be solved, not in my lifetime at least.”

“Dumbledore, we have the real possibility of a riot on our hands. I need to know the name of that boy,” Fudge repeated.

“Yes, of course, quite right,” Dumbledore agreed. “What information do you have about him?” He asked as he opened the Hogwarts book of record.

“Only that he is starting Hogwarts this year and his first name is Harry,” Fudge answered.

Dumbledore’s eyes snapped up, not even looking at the book anymore. “Did you say Harry?” He asked in surprise.

“Yes, one of the children spoke to him. He said that was his name,” Fudge repeated impatiently. “Now who is it?”

“There is only one boy named Harry enrolled in Hogwarts this year. Harry Potter, the brother of the-girl-who-lived Gloria Potter,” Dumbledore finally answered.

“Harry… Potter,” Fudge repeated, now just as shocked as Dumbledore.

Rita grinned inwardly. This story kept getting better and better with each passing moment. This was the kind of story that reporters would kill for, and she was the only one in the entire world that was seeing it happen.

Rita was interrupted from her thoughts when she saw Madam Bones actually running towards them.

“Minister Fudge, Supreme Mugwump, we have a major problem,” Amelia shouted.

“What is it now?” Fudge asked, afraid of what could possibly be next.

“I just received an update. We are detecting numerous port keys and apparitions into London.”

“The Aurors are at their absolute limit, if we don’t do something soon they won't be able to keep control of the crowd,” Amelia reported.

“I’m going to order all port keys into the United Kingdom to be revoked,” Fudge said decisively.

“That won’t stop the apparitions,” Amelia reminded him. “They will just portkey to France or Ireland and then apparate from there.”

“I will speak to the ICW, and to be on the safe side we will make sure portkeys to France, Ireland, Belgium, and the Netherlands are revoked as well.”

“That’s still a lot of wizards and witches that can potentially apparate here,” Amelia added.

“Look,” Rita interrupted all of them, pointing at Harry.

As one they all looked to the vault, Harry had stopped working, a moment later they heard the unmistakable gong, followed by the deafening cheer of the crowd.

Harry had solved another cypher.

“158 sapphires, 118 emeralds. That’s the third cipher. Harry solved it. Even if he stopped now… he earned himself a place in the history books,” Rita said in awe.

A new cypher appeared, this time it seemed less complex, but Rita noticed there was an unequal amount of sapphires this time, 3 blue and 4 red this time.

“Miss Skeeter, there is someone on the floo for you, they say it's urgent,” one of the Auror’s said.

“Who is it?” Rita demanded. The last thing she wanted was to miss the next cypher.

“It's Barnabus Cuffe,” the Auror’s replied.

Rita sighed, she couldn’t ignore the editor, at least if she wanted to keep her job.

She briskly walked over to the fireplace. “What is it Mr. Cuffe?”

“Rita, good you’re near the vault, I’ve been on the floo with the Wizarding Wireless Network since this whole thing kicked off.”

“The ministry won’t let anyone else into the museum, no matter what favors they call in,” Cuffe laughed.

“Old man Lazenby is desperate, willing to pay a lot of money just to get this broadcast. He wants to send in the equipment and have you and Bozo broadcast for him. This could be the biggest payday of your career, 7,000 galleons for one night of work.”

“You just have to give live updates on what’s happening, and a summary of what’s happened so far.”

“7,000 Galleons?” Rita asked in shock. That was almost as much money as she made in a year.

Then a thought entered her mind, “and how much would I get if I got you an exclusive interview with the child?” Rita asked.

“If you can do that,” Cuffe said, “I’ll match what Lazenby is willing to pay you.”

“You know it’s worth a lot more than that,” Rita smiled. “This isn’t just a play-by-play WWN broadcast, this is an In Depth interview with the person who's going to solve Merlin’s Cypher. It’s international news, no one is going to wait for their local newspaper to reprint this.”

Cuffe’s expression was unreadable, after a long moment he said, “final offer, 5% of the gross profit, take it or leave it.”

“Deal,” Rita said with a predatory smile. “Send me the equipment, I’ll work out the rest of the details with Fudge.”

Rita quickly rushed back to the front. Looking at the vault to see Harry’s progress.

The large Diamond had replaced the red and blue sapphires, and Harry was placing the emeralds.

The gong sounded again, Harry had solved another cypher. If it was even possible, the crowd was cheering even louder than before.

The Auror’s at this point had given up all pretence of controlling the crowd and formed up into a wall to protect the Minster.

“Minister Fudge, I have a proposal for you,” Rita offered.

“Unless it has something to do with containing the crown inside and outside the museum, it will have to wait,” Fudge said impatiently.

“That’s exactly what I had in mind,” Rita smiled.

“Alright, you have my attention Ms. Skeeter,” Fudge answered, turning away from the next cypher Harry was working on.

“Give me permission to broadcast what’s happening on the WWN,” Rita asked.

“How does that help resolve the situation?” Fudge demanded. “It seems to me it’s only going to line your own pockets.”

“Everyone in the wizarding world is practically starved for news on what’s happening. That’s why so many witches and wizards are flooding into Britain. The WWN will broadcast this worldwide. They won’t need to come here to find out what’s going on, they just need to be near a wireless,” Rita explained.

Fudge wasn’t a fool, he knew what was going on, and this could be a boon to him if he played this just right.If he could control the narrative he could ride the wave of support to landslide victory in the next election.

“Alright, but I have some conditions,” Fudge finally replied.

“The ministry, and my leadership specifically during this event will be highlighted and praised in your broadcast. You will encourage any foreign witches and wizards to leave the UK immediately for their safety. And finally, you will write an article for me at a time of my choosing that will also portray me in a positive light.”

Rita was surprised by how astute Fudge showed himself to be. He really was a political animal. He knew what was going on, and was positioning himself to come out of this as a hero as well.

“Agreed, but I have a condition as well. You guarantee I am the first one to interview Harry Potter,” Rita demanded.

“I think we have an agreement Ms. Skeeter,” Fudge smiled.

“Bozo, take this. You’re going to record me for a special WWN Broadcast,” Rita ordered.

“Witches and Wizards in the UK and around the world my name is Rita Skeeter and I am broadcasting to you live from inside the British Museum.”

As many of you have heard by now, there is a rumor that there is a child inside the museum that has solved the next cypher for Merlin’s vault.

I am here to confirm that this is no rumor. We have identified the child as Harry Potter, soon to be first-year student of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He has already solved four of the cyphers and is currently working on the second to last cypher now.

The Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge is also here and implores the wizarding public to return to their homes.

This broadcast will continue live until its conclusion. The primary concern of the ministry is the safety of its subjects.

Minister Fudge personally authorized this broadcast to keep you, the wizarding public up to date on what is happening inside the museum.

Cornelius turned away from Rita as she summarized the cyphers that Harry had solved so far.

“Minister,” Amelia said as she returned. “The floo network has been shut down in a 25 km radius around the museum and we have revoked all international port keys into Britain.”

“What is Rita Skeeter doing?” She asked.

“It’s alright, I’ve allowed it. With any luck, some witches and wizards will go home to find out what’s happening on the WWN. That should take some pressure off the Aurors.” Fudge explained.

Amelia blinked. ‘That was surprisingly well thought out by the minister,’ she mused. ‘But then again, if there was one thing Fudge had always been very good at, it was knowing what the people were thinking, and how to capitalize on it.’

They both turned back to watch Harry and the broadcast.

“... and that brings us to the cypher that Harry Potter is working on now.”

“There are 14 blue sapphires and 14 red ones.”

“If this follows what Harry has done on the previous three cyphers, he will move all of them to the center and they will then coalesce into another large diamond.”

“That is when it gets really tricky, Harry will then select the number of emeralds that will orbit the diamond.”

“He will need to know the exact number to use. If the cypher detects, even for a moment that he is guessing the number it will count it as a fail.”

Dumbledore returned just then, “the ICW has agreed, they will revoke the international portkeys, but they have a demand as well.”

“An emergency session of ICW has been called and they are demanding periodic updates of Mr. Potter’s progress.”

“We are ahead of you on that,” Fudge smiled. “As you can see Ms. Skeeter is broadcasting live on the WWN now.”

Dumbledore remained calm, but inwardly he was annoyed that Fudge had outmaneuvered him.

The ICW wanted the information first so they could determine when, and what information they made available to the public.

Now that would be impossible, even if he could stop the broadcast now, it would be he and ICW that would take the blame and bad publicity.

They both turned to look as Rita spoke excitedly.

“Harry Potter has completed the cypher. He has placed 14 emeralds around the central diamond.”

“We are just waiting now for confirmation.”

The seconds ticked by as everyone watched with bated breath before finally they all heard the gong confirming the cypher had been solved.

Over the roar of approval from the crowd Rita shouted “He’s done it! He's done it!”

“There is now only one cypher remaining. I can see it now. It's considerably larger than the previous ones.”

“There are… 180 sapphires,” Rita said taking a few minutes to count them out.

Harry is moving them to the center of the vault. I will keep you posted as the story develops.

This was when the realization hit Albus Dumbledore. There was no denying it anymore, Harry Potter was going to solve Merlin's cypher.

Against all odds, an eleven-year-old boy was unraveling a mystery that had stood for more than a thousand years. This added a complication to his long-term plans he could frankly do without.

He had spent almost a decade building up the story of the-girl-who-lived amongst the wizarding public, but despite his best efforts they only considered the girl famous within the shores of Britain. Every time that he had attempted to introduce her on the world stage had been a disaster.

The amount of favors he had to call in just to bury the stories of her abhorrent behavior in the international press was infuriating. Her parents always claimed to be working on her behavior, but she just got worse over time, not better.

James and Lily were more akin to her enablers than her parents, far more concerned with being rich and famous than addressing the obvious issues of their daughter.

Gloria Potter was supposed to fulfill the prophecy and bring about his vision for the future of the wizarding world, but now in one fell swoop her own brother of all people was well on his way to make her nothing more than a footnote.

Could he have any influence over Harry Potter when he was inside the walls of Hogwarts? Could he be used to build up Gloria Potter into what he needed her to be? Was there a simple way to remove him from the board?

It would all have been so much simpler if the rest of the Potter family had died in the attack, leaving Glory an orphan.

After all, orphans were far more starved for attention and eager to please.

But alas, they had survived, and his plans had to be altered accordingly.

Perhaps another opportunity would present itself.

After all, the trauma of losing one’s parents could be just the catalyst Gloria Potter needed to become what he required.

Chapter Text

Rita watched with bated breath as Harry worked, you could have heard a pin drop in the silence.

She glanced over her shoulder at the crowd behind her, watching along with the same anticipation she felt.

Everyone knew something important was going to happen today. This was a story they would tell over and over again for the rest of their lives. Where were you when Harry Potter solved Merlin's cypher?

Rita gave an update on the WWN.

“Harry has just completed the first part of the final cypher, just like the others the central diamond has replaced the sapphires.”

“Now comes the tricky part, he has to add the correct amount of emeralds to the cypher.”

“We still don’t understand the greater meaning behind each cypher, or how Harry knows how many emeralds to add.”

“No one I have interviewed has been able to provide a credible theory.”

“Fortunately, all of that will be covered in the special edition of the Daily Prophet that will print tomorrow where I will have an exclusive interview with Harry Potter.”

Rita watched, one by one as Harry added up the emeralds.

She counted them out as he added them. In the silence everyone could hear her, and it was not long before the rest of the crowd joined her.

“81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90,”

Rita stopped counting as she saw Harry put his hand down, and a hush fell over the crowd.

“This is it!” Rita shouted into the now completely silent room, both for the crowd with her in the museum, and likely the hundreds of thousands watching all over the world.

There was no gong this time, but each of the cyphers flashed on the vault door one by one.

They then heard a rumbling, followed by a series of metallic thuds.

The door to the vault slowly creaked open.

“HE’S DONE IT!!” Rita screamed in excitement, shortly followed by the jubilant reaction of the crowd.

The crowd clapped and cheered for what seemed like forever, before finally dying down as the vault door finally creaked all the way open.

“I can see inside,” Rita announced. “There is a large book sitting on a pedestal. It could be the fabled journal of Merlin himself, a full account of his entire life and what he has learned.”

“I also see what looks to be a broadsword with intricate runes carved into the blade. It has a striking resemblance to the historical accounts of the fabled Excalibur.”

“There is also a chest in the vault, it’s closed so we can only guess what it contains.”

“There is also a large bookcase I can make out, I can’t see any of the titles but it looks like the vault must have also preserved them somehow.”

Harry Potter is making his way towards us now… wait!!

The barrier is still in place. He is still stuck on the other side of the barrier!

“I’m not sure what this means.”

~***~

Harry looked at the barrier in confusion, he was so sure this was it. Was there something else to do? He turned to face the vault again, something was calling to him from inside.

He slowly stepped forward, crossing the threshold of the vault when he felt something land in his robes. He reached inside and pulled it out. His back was to the crowd so they couldn’t see what he was holding.

It was a wand, and an ancient one at that, nothing like the one his parents had given him. It practically thrummed with power in his hand.

With it came a feeling of completeness, like something had been missing all his life and it was just now that he realized what it was.

He looked at it for the first time. The pommel was a clear and rounded crystal. The handle fit perfectly into his hand and was made of black obsidian. It shone with an almost glass like finish. From there the dark oak wood it was made from extended out, making the full length 10 inches.

In short, it was practically a work of art that very few wand makers in the world today could match.

In that moment Harry felt it, there was a flash of magic that enveloped him and disappeared just as quickly.

Harry quickly hid the wand in his robes again and turned around. Somehow he knew the barrier would not stop him from leaving this time.

The moment he crossed the threshold of the vault the total silence that he was accustomed to was replaced by a thunderous crowd.

He was momentarily shocked, so much that he didn't realize Minister Fudge had come forward, introducing himself and vigorously shook his hand congratulating him. It was only after the flash of a camera that it brought him out of his daze.

“Marvelous, simply marvelous Harry!” Fudge beamed. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever witnessed!”

Madam Bones followed shortly, “Very well done Mr. Potter.”

“umm… Thanks,” Harry replied, momentarily put off by the name he associated with his ‘father,’ and also not used to all the compliments he was receiving.

“Congratulations as well, I'm sure that your family are very proud of you,” Dumbledore said.

Harry recognized the man immediately. He had been to Potter manor often enough due to all the work he did with his parents and sister. He was never allowed to meet him though, often being sent to his room as soon as guests arrived.

Every now and then he kept his bedroom door open just a crack and heard them speaking.

It was usually about Glory, how they were preparing her to meet some important diplomat or head of state. It was one of the few times he could remember that his parents actually attempted to reign Glory in.

“Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore,” Harry replied.

“We must find sometime to discuss your recent achievement Harry,” The headmaster added in a grandfatherly tone.

“Yes, that would be nice,” Harry replied stiffly. He wasn't really sure how to react around people that were friends with his parents.

“Hello Harry, my name is Rita Skeeter. I’m with the Daily Prophet, congratulations. Do you have anything you would like to say to witches and wizards listening at home?” Rita asked.

“At home?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Yes,” Rita smiled. “This is being broadcast worldwide through the WWN.”

“... worldwide?” Harry asked in shock.

“Yes,” Rita confirmed. “There are more people listening to this broadcast than any other event in wizarding history.”

Harry was saved from answering as a team of security goblins came through the doors abruptly.

“What is the meaning of this?” Fudge demanded as the Aurors formed ranks between the minister and the goblins.

The Goblins said nothing, and as the seconds ticked by, everyone could feel the tension rising as they wondered what would happen next. Was this the start of another Goblin Rebellion?

Finally, when it looked like the Aurors were about to pull their wands, the door opened again and a very old Goblin stepped through, followed by two other security goblins.

“I am Gringott the 3rd, chairman of Gringotts bank,” the old Goblin declared. “I am here for the one who solved Merlin's cypher.”

“What are your intentions towards him?” Amelia Bones demanded.

“I am here to fulfill my contract,” Gringott answered.

“What are the terms of your contract?” Fudge asked.

“I am here to give this key to the one that solved Merlin’s cypher,” Gringott explained as held out a plain-looking iron key.

Bones and Fudge looked to each other, trying to decide who would represent them.

There were armed Goblins within the museum, which would normally make it a matter for the head of Magical Law Enforcement. But Gringott was not only the chairman but also a head of state.

“That’s me,” Harry replied, stepping forward before the others could stop him.

“You? A child?” Gringott asked in surprise. “I have no time for games boy.”

“I can confirm that this is Harry Potter, and we are all witnesses to him opening the vault,” Rita said, both for the goblins and everyone else listening from the WWN.

“... Very well child, but be warned. If you are not who you say you are, the consequences will be your own,” Gringott warned as he held out the vault key.

Harry looked at the key, now very aware that every eye in the room was now on him. He didn't want to be in the spotlight, he never wanted to.

He was far more comfortable just being someone in the background, but that was not a choice he had at the moment.

Harry took a deep breath and stepped forward, taking the key out of the outstretched hand of the chairman.

Nothing happened, there was no flash of light or wave of magic like with the vault. There was just a plain-looking iron key in the palm of his hand.

“Inconceivable,” Gringott said in surprise. “A child of all things,” he said, shaking his head. “... Congratulations then, human,” he said as he turned around. His security goblins fell instep around him as he left.

The wizard and witches gave them a wide berth as they left, wary of the spears they carried.

Harry looked between the key in his hands, the crowd in front of him, and the retreating forms of the goblins. He wondered if they would just let him leave as well.

“Mr. Potter,” Amelia Bones interrupted his thoughts. “We have quite a few questions for you. Would you be comfortable doing that now?”

“I… Do I have to do this here, in front of everyone?” Harry asked.

“No, if you prefer we can have the discussion inside the Ministry, we can also inform your parents if you'd like and they can meet us there,” Amelia offered kindly.

“No, I will talk to them afterwards.” Harry said immediately. The last thing he wanted to do was see his ‘family.’ Knowing them, they would take the vault key from him and force him to give the credit to Glory somehow.

Amelia paused, she had expected that Harry would want to share the news with his family right away. “... I see, well if you come with me we can take you to the Ministry.”

“We can floo directly to my office,” Fudge declared. “There are some documents that we need to review about the vault.”

As a group they made their way to the floo, and before they left Fudge addressed the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, there are some things relating to Merlin's Vault that we need to discuss with Mr. Potter so we will leave for the Ministry.”

“The museum is closed for the day, so please make your way to the nearest exit calmly. The Aurors stationed inside and outside the museum will remain behind to ensure everyone’s safety,” he said as the group exited through the fireplace.

~***~

Harry arrived in the Minister’s office and looked around. There was an ornate desk and chair in the center of the room with a large window behind it.

A large bookshelf dominated one wall, and the adjacent one had the fireplace they came through. Above it, the mantle and wall were adorned with pictures of what Harry assumed were various heads of state and celebrities.

There were also two comfortable looking sofas in front of the desk, with a coffee table separating them.

“Please have a seat Harry,” Cornelius said, gesturing to the sofas.

Harry gratefully sat down and watched as the Minister, Amelia Bones, Rita Skeeter, Albus Dumbledore and the photographer sat around him.

“I hope you don’t mind, but we’ve included Rita Skeeter in this discussion as well. She was in the museum with you when all of this began,” Fudge explained.

“No, that’s fine,” Harry said nervously as he stared at all the surrounding adults. He hoped he wasn’t in trouble.

“She would like to write an article about you and how you were able to solve Merlin’s Cypher,” Fudge explained. “How do you feel about that?” He asked carefully.

Cornelius’s political instincts were telling him that something wasn’t quite right about Harry’s situation and he knew to tread carefully.

“Is that really necessary?” Harry asked. “I was hoping to get some rest, it’s been a very long day.”

“Quite right Harry, my boy,” Dumbledore agreed. “It’s been a long day already, perhaps it would be better if I take you home and we tell your parents about your marvelous achievement.”

This immediately set Harry on edge as he tried to think of a reason to avoid returning to Potter Manor.

“Actually Headmaster Dumbledore,” Rita interrupted. “I think it would be much better if Mr. Potter did the interview now, rather than later. This is the biggest news since… well ever, to be honest. People will be champing at the bit with all kinds of questions for you Harry.”

“The Daily Prophet is prepared to publish a special edition newspaper as early as tomorrow. We can answer those questions in the newspaper, otherwise you will be inundated with owl posts until you address it publicly.”

Harry thought for a moment. He certainly didn’t want to go back to Potter Manor, and he also didn’t like the idea of being harassed by a large number of post owls.

“Alright, I guess we can do an interview,” Harry agreed, to the annoyance of Dumbledore.

“Good,” Fudge agreed. “Now then, we can discuss what solving Merlin’s Cypher means for you Harry,” he said as he went to the bookcase and pulled out an old book.

“This book has been passed down from Minister to Minister for the past 100 years,” he said as he opened the book.

“The Ministry has claimed the contents of the vault as part of British common heritage, so unfortunately you don’t get to keep the contents of the vault Harry,” Fudge explained. “But as the chairman Gringott mentioned there is now a vault in your name.”

“Harry, we can arrange for your parents to manage the vault until you become of age,” Dumbledore stated. “I’m sure they’ll do a fine job of it. Just until you are old enough to manage it yourself.”

Fudge inwardly smiled at Dumbledore’s blunder. He noticed the way Harry acted when the Potter family was so much as mentioned around him. There was something there, something he could work with.

Harry Potter was going to become a powerful and influential figure in the wizarding world, it was all but guaranteed as soon as he solved the cypher.

Getting him onside now would be an enormous boost to his plans, and he had just the thing for it.

“Actually Albus, the rules are not quite clear on this,” Fudge said. “The one to solve the cypher is the owner of the vault.” That is the rule, exactly as it is written.

My predecessor may have assumed it would be an adult that solved the cypher because it does not specify what to do in the case of a minor. Added to that, when this was written there were no age restrictions in place either.

The current laws on the books state that to be the owner of a Gringotts vault you must be a legal adult.

“Well, there you have it,” Dumbledore replied. “Harry is not a legal adult therefore his parents must be put in charge of the vault.”

“That is one interpretation,” Fudge conceded.

“However, the other way we can interpret this is that when the rules were written, no age restriction was in place, effectively grandfathering it in.”

“The way I see it, there are two options for you, Harry.”

As Albus pointed out you can allow your parents to manage your finances until you are of legal age, that will align with the current laws.

“The other way we can interpret this is that by virtue of you having the vault in the first place you are in effect an adult, and that was the original intent of the author. As you are the one affected by this, I leave the decision to you.”

“What would it mean legally if I'm an adult?” Harry asked.

“You would be responsible for your own wellbeing, and have every right, privilege, and responsibility that entails,” Fudge answered.

“This also means that if you commit a crime, you will also be treated as an adult in the eyes of the law.” Amelia warned.

Harry knew it was a risk, but there was no other choice, really. If his ‘family’ got a hold of him, or through him the vault he didn't know what they would do, just that it would be very bad for him.

“Come now Harry, be reasonable. This is far too much responsibility for someone your age,” Dumbledore tried to convince him. “You should enjoy your childhood, these are adult matters.”

“He solved the cypher, when no one else in the world could,” Fudge rebutted. “The greatest minds in the world, including you, failed. I think that gives him the right to make the choice for himself.”

“I want to be emancipated,” Harry said firmly.

“Then it's settled,” Fudge smiled. “Harry Potter, you are now a legal adult as witnessed by the Minister of Magic, Supreme Mugwump, and Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” Fudge declared.

“Now, I think it's time you explain how you did it. How did you solve the cypher?” Fudge asked.

Harry took a breath, collecting himself as he thought about what to reveal.

“Yesterday I read the newspaper, about the attempts the Americans made, and how they solved the first cypher. The answer was fire as we know, but the second cypher was far more complex than the first.

When I read the description of the second cypher in the Prophet, it gave me an idea. It was just a guess. I didn't expect it to really work, I just thought it was worth a try.

I thought about what fire represented. What would Merlin have associated with fire with, and it made sense.

“Destruction,” Amelia guessed.

“Yes, I thought about that as well,” Harry agreed. “But Merlin was a powerful wizard, he didn't need fire to destroy anything, we could even argue fire was the least destructive of his abilities.”

“Life,” Rita said. “Fire is born after all.”

“Yes, that also makes,” Harry agreed. “Fire represents a lot of things, but in the beginning it meant one thing. Power.

“With fire you can cook food, survive winter, it gives you power over everyone that hasn't mastered it.”

“How did that help you solve the next cypher?” Rita asked.

“It was the key to understanding what I was seeing in the next cypher,” Harry explained. “They both were a representation of power.”

“So what was the next cypher, what did it mean?” Amelia asked, drawn into the explanation.

“Do any of you know what an atom is?” Harry asked, seemingly going off topic.

At the blank looks of everyone present Harry explained. “An atom is in essence the smallest possible quantity that can exist of anything. It is also what everything in the universe is made of. Each cypher represents an atom when they are solved.”

The sapphires represent things called protons and neutrons, when they are grouped together they form the nucleus or heart of the atom. That's why the sapphires turned into a large diamond.

“The emeralds represent the electrons. They can move around the nucleus. When you look at it all together, it is the representation of a single atom of iron.” Harry explained.

“Why have we never seen anything like this before?” Fudge wondered.

“Atoms are so small that we can’t see them with our eyes, muggles developed something called a microscope that allows them to see them. Think of it like a pair of glasses but thousands of times more powerful.”

The adults nodded, following along with Harry’s explanation.

“Iron was the next representation of power in the world. It was used to make cooking implements, better tools, and weapons.”

“Fascinating,” Dumbledore said. “These atoms, you mentioned, how long have the muggles known about them?”

“I learned about them in a muggle science book,” Harry answered. “They've known about them since the 1700s.”

“So it seems Merlin knew of these atoms well before the muggles even knew of them,” Dumbledore mused. “I wonder why he never shared this discovery?”

“Atoms themselves contain an incredible amount of power as well, he may have thought we were not ready to know about them yet,” Harry explained.

“If they are as small as you say, how powerful could they be?” Fudge asked.

“The muggles could create something called an atomic bomb. It split an atom and released all the energy at once. The effects were so terrible even now they are afraid of what will happen if they set another one off.” Harry explained.

The room fell silent as the adults thought of the implications.

“Rita, when you write your article you will write nothing about turning these atoms into weapons,” Fudge ordered.

Even Dumbledore found himself nodding along with what Fudge was saying, he even vowed to himself to exclude it from any meeting with the ICW as well.

“The third element was gold,” Harry continued. “It was the next representation of power. This allowed us to trade, develop currency, and amass wealth.”

Fudge nodded along with Harry's explanation. Most of it went over his head.

He understood why these atoms were important when Harry explained it, but he knew he would not have understood it on his own.

“The fourth element was when things changed again. It wasn't what represented power in the past anymore. It was what represented power in the present.

It’s something the muggles call lithium. They use it to store electrical energy and the mass production of goods like heat resistant glass.

We also use it as the main element of certain potions like the calming potion and the drought of peace.

The next element is called silicon, as far as i know it's used by the muggles, not us.” Harry explained. They use it to make electronics, circuit boards, even to store the energy produced by the sun.

The last element is when things change again. It is likely the representation of power for the future, something called Thorium.

I don’t know exactly what its use is, but based on the density of the atom it stores a large amount of energy,” Harry finished his explanation.

“What do you think it all means?” Rita asked. “Why would Merlin use power as the key to solving his cypher?”

“I don’t know,” Harry replied honestly. “I can only guess, maybe the vault contains something that wizard kind weren’t ready for in Merlin’s time, or maybe we hadn’t matured enough to use safely.”

“Perhaps Harry,” Fudge agreed. “Maybe when the Unspeakables examine the library, they will find more answers.”

“If that’s everything, I would like to go now,” Harry said. “It’s been a long day and I would really like to get some rest.”

“Of course my boy,” Albus said. “I was going to speak to your parents, anyway. I will escort you back.”

“Thank you for the offer Headmaster Dumbledore,” Harry replied. “But I will make my own arrangements,” Harry replied.

Now that he was a legal adult Harry wasn’t at the mercy of the adults anymore. He didn’t have to do what he was told anymore.

“I will also be off,” Amelia Bones said. “There are still quite a few international visitors in Britain and we are still on high alert,” Amelia said as she left through the floo.

“Well, there you have it Albus, there are quite a few things I have to do myself, and Harry should have no problem finding his way home.” Cornelius said as he noticed Albus was about to make another attempt to persuade Harry. “Feel free to use my Floo,”

Albus looked between Cornelius and Harry. He realized now that he had somehow miscalculated. Harry should have been more than willing to go home and tell his parents of his achievements.

“Very well, I shall look forward to speaking with you at another time,” Albus said as he accepted the dismissal and left through the floo.

Rita made similar excuses, leaving to write what she knew would likely be the most important story of her life.

“Harry,” Cornelius said as he turned to speak with Harry now that they were alone. “From now on, for better or for worse you are a public figure. People will look upon you to set an example and they will also watch for you to fail, and they can be very harsh in that judgment,” he advised.

“There will be many people that will come to you offering to help, telling you they know what’s best for you. Please be careful. You wield a lot of power and influence now, and there will be those that try to use you for their own gains.”

The way the Minister spoke to him momentarily surprised Harry, it was not like his family did. He treated him like an equal. He didn’t make his decisions for him. “Thank you, Minister.”

“You're welcome Harry,” Cornelius smiled, “and please take this,” he said, handing him his cloak. “You’re quite possibly the most famous wizard in the world now. This should make it a little more difficult for your fans to find you.”

“Fans?” Harry asked in surprise as he started to think through the implications of what he had done.

Chapter Text

Harry sighed as he stepped out of the fireplace of the Leaky Cauldron. He was wearing the cloak that Minister Fudge had been kind enough to give him before he left the Ministry. It was now the late evening, and he was again exhausted.

Chapter Text

James Potter fumed as he stormed through his study. It had been three days since he spoke to Albus. He had expected him to be back that same day with the boy in tow, but nothing of the sort happened.

Every time he called Albus on the floo, all he got were meaningless platitudes. 'I'm working on it. Be patient, everything will be fine, just give it some more time.'

"The one time the boy does something useful with his life, and what does he do? Run off," James ranted. "Doesn't that idiot boy understand what I can do with that money?"

"James, is there someone here?" Lily asked as she walked into the study.

"No, I was just talking to myself," James said, shaking his head as he calmed down.

"Albus will bring him back," Lily said soothingly. "We'll certainly need to have a long talk with him, though. Running off to London like that, and not thanking Glory for her help? What was he thinking?"

"That's not all I'm worried about, Lily. The boy is running around with a fortune. How much is going to be left when we get him back?" James asked.

"How much damage could he do? At worst, he will be at the train station to Hogwarts in a few weeks. With some luck Albus will find him before that," Lily replied.

"This is my chance to prove my father wrong, Lily," James explained. "He told me I was too reckless, that I didn't think things through properly."

"It didn't matter if it was about business or even funding the order to fight the dark lord. He never gave me the chance to prove myself," James said as he remembered his father.

Charlus Potter was a hard man to have as a father. He demanded respect and never shied away from telling you when you did something wrong. He rarely praised anyone for doing something right because, in his view, that was the bare minimum.

Lily remembered one of the last conversations they had with him, "he wrong James." "Funding the order to stop the dark lord was not reckless. It was necessary."

"The last thing he told me before he died was that I was a failure and a disappointment. Then he put the entire Potter fortune in trust with a solicitor," James groused.

"Maybe we can contact the solicitor?" Lily suggested. "You're the head of the Potter family now. You should be the one to decide that now."

"I've tried," James said, shaking his head. "I know the law firm is Dalton & Moore, but they won't tell me who is in charge of the Potter Trust. That was apparently part of the arrangement my father made with them."

"There must be something we can do," Lily insisted. "It shouldn't be that difficult to at least find out who is managing it."

"I've talked to the managing partners. They said that it's against the terms of the contract, and the funds have to be managed within a blind trust." James explained. "The only way to dissolve the trust is to prove mismanagement of funds, malfeasance, or if they don't meet the annual growth percentage."

"That's the worst part, Lily. The growth percentage is so low they don't have to do anything to hit their targets. I could run rings around whoever is managing the Potter fortune."

"My father expected me to just live off the interest, but I have so many great ideas. I could at the very least triple the Potter fortune if I had the chance," James groused.

"So when Harry comes back with the prize money, you can do that," Lily smiled. "Then we won't even need the Potter fortune."

"I have to find the boy first," James said.

"You will," Lily said. "Then we can set everything right."

"You know what? You're right. I shouldn't wait for Albus to fix everything for me. I can take care of this myself, just like my father would have." James walked to the fireplace.

"I'm going to the Ministry to talk to Fudge. That spineless worm will do what I tell him, if he knows what's good for him!" He said as he called for the Ministry Atrium and stepped through the floo.

Cornelius Fudge sat in his chair, staring at the seemingly indifferent Saul Croaker. "When I asked you to come to the museum, it wasn't a request, Saul. It was an order."

"My Unspeakables were there," Saul said indifferently. "You seemed to have it handled."

"Considering we were dealing with an artifact that was more than a thousand years old, your input would have been useful," Fudge glared. "That is what the department of mysteries does, right?"

"I was monitoring the situation from headquarters. Our instruments there are far more precise than anything we can bring into the field," Saul replied.

"In future, I expect you to be there when I 'request' it or at the very least a floo call explaining why you can't. Is that clear?" Fudge stated.

"Yes sir," Saul replied in the same disinterested tone.

Cornelius wanted to rip into him more. He certainly deserved the dressing down, but he knew his hands were tied.

While the department of mysteries reported to him, the Unspeakables were far too specialized to just replace or even suspend a department head, so they largely governed themselves.

Now that he thought about it, he wasn't even sure where their funding came from. It certainly wasn't on any budget proposal he had ever seen.

"What can you tell me about the vault?" Fudge changed the subject.

"Not much right now," Saul replied. "Even though the door is open, everything inside the Vault is still locked down. We can't remove any items. We can't even take a book off a shelf without the energy field blocking us. It's a good bit of spell work."

"Why would Merlin go to all the trouble to create the cypher and then not allow us to examine its contents?" Fudge mused.

"My guess, because it isn't ours to take," Saul replied.

"You think Harry Potter is the one that can access it." Fudge surmised.

Saul nodded.

Fudge sighed. That created a whole other set of problems for him.

The ministry claiming ownership of the vault was shaky from a legal standpoint. As long as no one challenged them directly, there were no issues. That was the whole point of establishing the prize in the first place, to distract from the legal gray area they were in.

If Harry helped them remove the items now, however, he could make the legal claim that the items belonged to him.

Fudge was not sure where the Wizengmont would stand on that.

"Keep working on it," Fudge instructed. "Contacting Harry Potter will be a last resort."

"Sorry to interrupt you, Minister," Delores said as she popped her head through the door. "Mr. Potter is here to see you, but he doesn't have an appointment."

"Harry?" Cornelius asked in surprise.

"No," Delores shook head. "His father, James Potter."

"Even better," Fudge said as a gleam entered his eye. "I have been expecting him for sometime now."

"Saul, see yourself out, and I expect daily updates on the progress you make with the vault," Fudge dismissed him.

"Delores, send Mr. Potter in," Cornelius instructed as Saul left through the side door.

"We need to talk, Fudge!" James stormed into the office, slamming the door closed behind him.

"Hello Mr. Potter, I've been expecting you," Fudge said with a smile.

"Good, then you already know why I'm here," James growled. "How dare you give those galleons to my son! He's far too young and immature to understand how to manage that kind of money."

"I thought that might get your attention, but I actually expected you to show up days ago." Fudge said in an even tone, revealing nothing.

James, for once in his life, stooped to consider his actions. This was not the confrontation he was expecting. Fudge should not have expected him to storm into the Ministry like this.

"Was Dumbledore on vacation? I know you can't make a decision to save your life without him telling you what to do." Cornelius said, picking up on Potter's change of mood. He needed him angry and off balance.

"Dumbledore doesn't make my decision for me!" James snarled, unknowingly allowing himself to be manipulated. "You had no right to emancipate my boy! And you are going to fix it right now!"

"No." Cornelius replied simply.

"What!?" James demanded, not used to being spoken to this way.

"This is well within my purview as minister. I stand by my decision, and I will not be rescinding it," Fudge said.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" James growled. "I'm not some halfwit that a nobody like you can order around."

"This nobody knows exactly who you are, James Potter of the ancient and noble Potter family," Fudge said, an edge entering his tone.

"I will speak to the other noble families about this disrespect," James retorted. "When I'm through, you'll be lucky to get a job as a janitor!"

"Are these the same families that voted against me in the last election? The same ones that failed to keep me from becoming Minister for Magic?" Fudge goaded.

"The same, and you will not be so lucky a second time," James warned. "If you do not show me the respect I deserve, you will find out what the true wrath of the noble families feel like."

"Oh, believe me Mr. Potter, the last thing you want is for me to show you the 'respect' you deserve," Fudge replied, showing more of his animosity toward the man than he intended.

Fudge's response took James aback. This was not the sniveling coward he was expecting, the groveling fool he was referred to in the right circles.

"Because if I was," Fudge continued. "There would be a team of Aurors dragging you out of MY office and using your head to open the damn door!" Fudge shouted.

"What?" James asked, shocked into a stupor. "You can't talk to me this way." He said, confused.

"I can't?" Fudge asked. "Are you really so arrogant you think you can do whatever you want without repercussions after everything you've done?" He demanded.

"What?" James asked, now completely confused. "I've never done anything to you."

"During the election, when I was running against Crouch. The man that you and your ilk supported," Fudge prompted.

James flushed in embarrassment at the reminder. When they found out that Crouch's own son was a Death Eater, it was an embarrassment for everyone that supported him.

"Still don't remember?" Fudge sneered. "Why would you? A stuffed shirt with nothing better to do than play with other people's lives."

"Well, let me remind you," Fudge continued. "You accused me of being a Death Eater."

"What? Is that all this is about?" James laughed derisively. "That's politics, you idiot!"

"No," Fudge disagreed. "Politics is starting a rumor, spreading an idea, getting people to ask the questions you want them to."

"You publicly accused me without a shred of evidence and then used your clout with the Wizengmont to send a team of hit wizards to raid my home!"

"And if I recall, that miscalculation guaranteed you the election," James shouted back. "So, in fact, you owe me one."

"My wife was home when they raided it," Fudge revealed. "My Isabel was unarmed, and those animals still hit her with at least four different spells."

"Well, she's fine now, isn't she?" James said back callously. "Living the life of luxury, just like any proper pureblood wife? Last I read in the Prophet, she was visiting family in Italy, wasn't she?"

"Oh yes, that's what the Prophet is told to write," Fudge agreed. "But not the truth. She's lying in a coma that she is unlikely to ever recover from," his voice cracking with emotion.

James was silent, he had never been told any of this before, only a long lecture from Albus about what was acceptable in politics, and the lengths he had to go to, and the favors he had to call in to sweep it all under the rug.

"She is in that coma because of you, and you will pay for what you've done. I don't care if it costs me my career, or even my life. You. Will. Pay." Fudge growled.

James was momentarily taken aback by Fudge's vitriol. No one had told him what happened to Fudge's wife, but in the end she wasn't really important.

"That's where you're wrong, Fudge. People like me make the rules, and people like you follow them. Remember your place. This is your only warning." James replied.

"The only reason you aren't in Azkaban for what you did is that Dumbledore protected you at every turn, but he's an old man. How long do you think he has left? Another 10 years, maybe 15?" Fudge smirked.

James was put on the back foot again. None of this was going how he expected it to. He wasn't supposed to be the one being threatened. He was supposed to be the one making the threats.

"Those Hit Wizards. They talked the same way you are now. Dumbledore protected them too, blocked me every time I tried to have them fired or even put on trial." Fudge continued.

"That's when I started getting creative. I promoted them. After all, the Wizengmont can't get involved for a simple promotion."

James looked at Fudge in confusion. 'Is he completely off his rocker?' James thought.

"There's a little town in Russia called Oymyakon. It's a muggle town, so no magic allowed," Fudge explained.

"I had an outpost built there. The average temperature is -50c all year round. I'm told when they have a funeral, they have to light a bonfire for five days just to get the ground soft enough to dig."

"Those animals can only leave when someone else is 'promoted' to replace them. I call it the 'James Potter special.'"

"You think you can send me there?" James laughed. "I don't work for the ministry, or have you forgotten?"

"Oh no," Fudge shook his head. "Sending you to a frozen wasteland for the rest of your life is far too good for you. When I'm done, the world will see you exactly for who you are. A blustering coward, too afraid to get their hands dirty and too stupid to accomplish anything without their family name."

"How does it feel, by the way? To be completely overshadowed by an eleven-year-old?" Fudge asked.

James said nothing, but flushed angrily and glared.

"See yourself out, Mr. Potter," Fudge said dismissively as he sat back down.

"This is not over," Potter said as he stormed out.

Cornelius reached a shaking hand into his desk and pulled out a bottle of fire whisky and poured himself a glass when he was sure Potter was gone. He was still shaking in anger as he took a sip.

He had revealed a bit more than he intended with that confrontation, and he knew he would deal with Dumbledore or one of his cronies soon, but a larger part of him was pleased. This was the first time he could actually confront Potter about what he'd done and the first real step in making him and the people that supported him pay.

Dumbledore had spent a lot of political capital, making it very difficult for him to even be in the same room as Potter. He idly wondered how many favors he would have to call in this time for James Potter.

What Cornelius hadn't expected, though, was all the feelings that came back out to the surface as soon as he saw Potter's face. It brought him right back to that day, as if it had just happened.

Harry woke up with a groan. It was the same strange dreams again, the ones that started in the forest. Thankfully, there were no blinding headaches anymore, but he was no closer to finding out what the dreams meant or even how to stop them.

There was only one thing he could think of. He had to go back to where it all started, the forest.

Harry walked downstairs to talk to Tom, remembering to put his ring on. Even though it had been a few days, it seemed the vault was the only thing people wanted to talk about. He wore the ring daily now, as well as the cloak to further obscure his identity.

He disliked the attention, and most of the time just wanted to blend into the background, but there was a part of him that enjoyed it, a part of him that wanted to be acknowledged, that wanted to be recognized for what he had done.

Harry did his best to ignore those feelings. He had seen how too much pride can twist and change a person to something unrecognizable.

"Tom," Harry greeted as he walked downstairs.

"Hello Harry," Tom greeted quietly, as to not draw attention.

"I'm checking out, but I should be back tomorrow," Harry said.

"I'll save a room for you," Tom nodded.

Harry stepped out of the cab that took him to the campgrounds. He kept an eye out for Ben, but when he reached his old campsite, it was empty.

Harry was honestly sad to see him gone. He was the first good person who he had ever met, and he hoped he would get a chance to see him again, to thank him for his help.

He walked deeper into the forest and pulled out his wand, remembering the spell in his father's old textbooks. "Point me, the lake."

Harry watched as his wand spun in his hand, pointing deeper into the forest. Putting the wand back in its holster, he started the long walk back to the lake.

A few hours of walking later, Harry stared at the lake in the midday sun. It looked exactly as he remembered it. He even found the place where he came through the branches the first time. He looked out at the lake from where he stood the first time, but nothing happened.

'I was so sure that if I came back I would find something,' Harry thought in disappointment. There were no flashes like in his dreams, just a small lake in the middle of the woods.

"No," Harry said out loud as he shook his head. "I didn't come all this way and go through all this for nothing. Tell me why I'm here! Tell me what you want!" Harry demanded.

A few moments passed and Harry was feeling silly, standing in the middle of nowhere and yelling at a lake, when the flashes started, but this time he wasn't dreaming. This time he concentrated on it, willing the images to slow down.

He saw a woman made of water standing in the middle of the lake, and staring back at him, but it wasn't the same lake. It was somewhere else, somewhere he had never been.

When the flashes stopped, the woman was there, staring back at him.

"Who are you?" Harry asked.

He watched as the water slowly solidified until he was staring at a woman. She was wearing a set of pure white robes, had blue eyes, dark hair and looked to be in her mid-twenties.

She was beautiful, but there was something strange about her, something powerful and dangerous. Harry couldn't understand why, but whoever this woman was, she seemed both familiar and otherworldly at the same time.

"That is a difficult question to answer. I had so many names over the centuries. You knew me in the beginning as Altia, more recently as Nimue, and by many other names in between," the woman answered.

"I don't understand," Harry replied. "I've never met you before. I would have remembered meeting someone made of water."

"That is also true," the woman answered simply.

"Do you know what's happening to me?" Harry demanded, losing patience. The woman, this Nimue, talked in circles, seemingly answering his questions, but only leaving him with more questions in the end. "How can we know each other if we've never met before?"

"We knew each other many times across many lifetimes. You just haven't remembered yet." the woman answered gently.

Harry eyed the woman wearily. He didn't really know what to make of her. He considered just leaving but knew that the flashes would never stop, that he would just end up back here eventually, looking for answers.

"You are having flashes," Nimue said. "Of people you have never met, and places you have never been."

"Then you know what's happening to me? Do you know how to make it stop?" Harry asked.

"I know what is happening to you, but there is no way to stop it. You have already taken the first steps to unlocking your previous incarnations," Nimue explained.

"Previous incarnations?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Yes," Nimue nodded. "I know this is difficult to believe, but you are at the beginning of a journey, a very difficult one, but one you have undertaken many times."

"Ok, let's assume for a moment that I believe you. What's happening to me? What do you mean by unlocking my previous incarnations?" Harry asked.

"The flashes that you've been having, the pain you felt in the beginning, were those memories pushing against the confines of your mind, expanding it, preparing it," Nimue explained.

"How? How has it been preparing me?" Harry asked.

"You may have already felt some effects," Nimue explained. "Have you noticed your memories becoming clearer? That you can remember details now that you didn't before? How much faster it is to recall things, even from years ago?"

Harry thought back, the spell he had used to find the lake, he remembered now. He had read it in an old textbook of his father's weeks ago. He remembered only skimming through that section.

Then there was the Merlin's Cypher. It was years ago that he found the old science book. He shouldn't have been able to remember all of those details, but he did, as if he had just read them a moment ago.

"I have," Harry realized. "I remember everything, but why?"

Nimue nodded. "You will learn to access entire lifetimes of memories and experiences, far more than the average person ever will. All of that would be wasted if you can not remember them when you need to."

"But you must be very careful. Accessing your previous incarnations is also extremely dangerous." She warned.

"Why is it dangerous?" Harry asked. "They're just memories, right?"

"The most dangerous thing in the world is knowledge without the experience to temper it," Nimue warned.

"When you access a previous incarnation, they will share with you not just what they have learned, but also the emotions they felt as well."

"If you are not prepared, those emotions can imprint on you as well. What they loved you would love, what they hated you would hate, and what they believed you would believe."

"You will become more like your incarnations and less like you. In essence, a completely different person."

"You mean every time I access a previous incarnation they could change who I am?" Harry asked, now feeling worried.

"Worse than that, I'm afraid. You would take up their very best and very worst traits. The stronger the emotions, the stronger the imprint. Some lives you have lived, you did incredible things, both good and terrible."

"The way you talk about it, it sounds like it's happened before," Harry realized.

"I will not lie to you. There are some things your previous incarnations have done, monstrous things. Things they would have never done, if not for what they learned from their previous incarnations."

"How many times?" Harry asked.

"Three that I know of, but I haven't known you in all your incarnations," she explained.

"Why wouldn't I want to meet you in the other incarnations?" Harry asked.

"Each of your lives is different. You have been warriors, kings, philosophers, even lowly peasants occasionally. Your formative years form the core of your being. Sometimes that leads you to me, and sometimes it doesn't."

"Can I choose not to access the previous incarnations?" Harry asked. The idea of losing himself like that seemed horrific.

"You can, but it will always be at the very edge of your mind, tempting you. There are very few times I know of that you chose not to."

"Even knowing the risks? Why?" Harry asked.

"Sometimes it's for noble things like saving a life or stopping a dark wizard, other times it's for something more selfish, like accumulating power and wealth, but the urge is always there to know more than you ever did before, to cast spells that have been lost to time."

"If you access those memories, it will be difficult for you as you are now. Your formative years solidify your mind and being. It gives you the experience to recognize when you are losing yourself and the strength of mind to pull yourself back from the edge, but you are so very young this time. In truth, I have never seen you reach this stage so early."

"There has to be something I can do," Harry insisted.

"There is something… have you ever heard of occlumency?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "What is that?"

"It is a mind art, meant to organize one's memories and protect it from the intrusion of others. If you can learn it to a sufficient degree, you will detect when your other incarnations' memories and experience latch onto your mind, and with sufficient experience, even dispel those influences on you."

"Where can I learn this occlumency? Is it something you can teach me?" Harry asked.

"I can teach you, but it is something you must study for years, decades even, and the process with a teacher is… intimate. It requires absolute trust, because to teach you, you would have to open your mind to me. I would see all that you are, all of your memories and feelings."

This was where Harry faltered. He didn't know if he could really trust this woman, or in fact, if anything she was saying was true or just some elaborate lie. She had made a few guesses and gave him a fantastical story where he was the hero, but Harry knew that wasn't him.

"It's ok," the woman said, sensing his hesitation. "The first time we meet, it is always the most difficult. I assume you will go to school soon. You will find a library there. Search carefully and you will find a book that shows you some basics. It will be more difficult and time-consuming, but it will help."

"Are you like this as well? Can you access your past lives?" Harry asked curiously.

"No, I'm afraid you are unique in that. I don't know if everyone that has ever lived is simply born again when they die over and over again and simply can't access their past lives like you can or they are entirely new beings."

"But you said that we met before. How can that be possible? How could you have lived that long?" Harry asked.

"This is where you must be the most careful. You are walking down a path that many of your incarnations have walked. The more you learn, the more you want to learn. You need to reflect on what you ask and decide if you are ready to hear the answer," Nimue warned.

"What can you tell me now?" Harry asked.

"Think of each of your incarnations as a link in a chain. You must commune with each incarnation in order from the most recent to the last. It must always be done in order."

"Each of your incarnations will be a guide of sorts, they will speak to you, instruct you, and once they have taught you all you wish to learn from them, they will fade away and you will be ready for the next link in the chain. But be warned, once they are gone you cannot call them back, and not all of your incarnations will be altruistic, some will want to live and experience the world again through you, some will believe that there are things they had left undone in their lives and will do everything they can to remain."

"Are you really here? Why is this place important?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

"This place specifically is not important, it's just a small body of water, but I have a connection to all bodies of water. When you called out I could hear you," Nimue explained.

"If you are not here, where are you?" Harry asked.

"I live in a place called Avalon," Nimue revealed.

"You are the lady of the lake, from the Arthurian legends," Harry said, confirming his suspicions.

"Yes, I have also been called that before as well," Nimue revealed.

"You must have known Merlin then. Do you know anything about Merlin's Vault?" Harry asked.

"No," Nimue shook her head. "But he is one of your previous incarnations," she revealed. "But he either never told me about it or he created it after I last saw him."

"When was that?" Harry asked.

"Perhaps a thousand years ago," Nimue explained. "I can't say for certain. It has been a very long time."

"He created a vault with a series of cyphers. People have been trying to solve them for a very long time," Harry explained. "And I solved it a few days ago."

When this discussion started, Harry had suspected Merlin would be involved somehow, and now he had confirmation.

Harry felt his stomach drop as he realized. Did he really solve the vault on his own? Were his accomplishments his? Was all the pride he had felt in himself just a cruel lie? Was what his family said about him true?

"You are wondering if you really solved the cypher or if Merlin insured you would solve it." Nimue surmised as she saw the emotions flash across Harry's face.

Harry nodded, not sure what to say now, as he felt like the rug had been swept from underneath him.

"I'm afraid that's something I can't answer for you, Harry. Perhaps if it was his vault, he left something behind for you to find that will give you the answers you seek," Nimue suggested.

"That isn't really possible anymore," Harry replied. "The people that have it now won't let me take anything from it."

"But maybe I can access my Merlin incarnation? He could tell me,"

"That is your choice to make, but I would not recommend it." Nimue answered.

"Why?" Harry asked curiously. "He created the vault. He must know."

"Merlin must have lived 6 or 7 lifetimes ago. That is a lot of incarnations for you to meet and learn from first. So it is already a very dangerous course of action," Nimue warned. "And even if you could reach Merlin, he may not be what you are expecting."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked. "There are so many stories about him. He is probably the most famous wizard to have ever lived."

"He was certainly powerful," Nimue agreed. "And intelligent, but of all your incarnations I have met… he is my least favorite," Nimue explained.

"Why is that?" Harry asked.

"He has delved further into your incarnations than any of your other predecessors that I know of. He has learned of magics long forgotten, primordial and powerful, but with each incarnation he lost more and more of himself, his humanity, and worst of all, he did not care that he was losing himself."

"He stopped seeing people and started seeing pawns he could control, that he had the right to shape the world as he saw fit because he had the power to do so. It made him some powerful enemies, and most likely what led to his downfall."

"I warn you Harry, if you go searching for answers, if you seek the Merlin incarnation, if you find him, he will be the most powerful of your previous incarnations, he may extract a price from you for the answers you seek."

"Could any of the incarnations after Merlin have the answers?" Harry asked.

"Possibly," Nimue conceded. "But I have met none of your incarnations after Merlin until today."

"Can I find you again if I have more questions?" Harry asked.

"You can," Nimue smiled. "Call out to me near a similar sized body of water and I will hear," she said as she disappeared from the lake and returned home.

Chapter Text

Harry sighed as he walked through the streets of London. He did get some answers to his questions from Nimue, but it had left him with far more new questions than he knew what to do with, along with a nagging doubt in himself.

When he solved Merlin’s cypher, it was his greatest accomplishment, something that proved he was more than what his family always told him he was. But he couldn’t ignore the connection between himself, Merlin, and the vault.

It was with these heavy thoughts that he stepped into a pub for lunch. ‘Maybe I can think more clearly after I have something to eat.’ It was small and not very busy. Harry sat down at one of the tables, idly watching a news broadcast as he decided what to have.

“This is Laura Sommers with local 8 news interrupting your regularly scheduled program to bring you a special report.”

“Behind me is a tunnel that collapsed approximately 30 minutes ago, and to make matters worse, there is an overturned school bus clearly visible underneath the rubble.” 

“So far, no one has emerged from the bus leading rescue workers to believe that the driver and the children inside are unconscious.”

“What can I get you?” A waitress said as she stepped between Harry and the tv.

“What?” Harry asked, his attention focused on the news broadcast.

“What can I get you?” the waitress repeated, a little annoyed.

“Oh, sorry,” Harry replied. “Just a burger and chips, please.”

“Coming right up,” the waitress said, turning on her heel and taking his order to the kitchen.

Harry turned his attention back to the news broadcast.

“Recuse workers still can’t evacuate the passengers for fear that the tunnel could collapse at any moment,” the reporter said, the worry clearly evident in her tone.

“We are currently awaiting special heavy equipment to temporarily reinforce the tunnel so that it is safe for rescue workers to enter, unfortunately they are stuck on the M25 due to a traffic jam.”

Just as the reporter finished speaking, Harry watched in shock as a large chunk of cement fell onto the bus. Thankfully, it just glanced off the side, leaving a large dent, but not collapsing the structure of the bus.

He then watched in shock as he saw a man jump the police barricade and rush towards the bus.

“Wait!” Laura said in surprise. “A man just rushed inside the tunnel. He’s making his way to the bus. He’s trying to get through the back door! The door is stuck. He can’t get through. It must have been damaged in the initial collapse,” Laura speculated.

“The man is now desperately kicking on the door. I can see it bending! He’s through! I can see him now. He’s carrying two of the children out now. They’re unconscious,” she said in worry.

“The paramedics are looking after the children, and it looks like the man is going back in now… No! Police on site are trying to stop him.”

“They’re arguing, but I can’t make out what they are saying from here.”

“The man just shoved one of the police officers out of the way and ran back in!”

“He’s back on the bus now. He has two more of the children with him. They’re unconscious, but otherwise unharmed,” Laura said in relief.

“The police are arguing with him again. They’re trying to get him away from the tunnel.” 

“NOT A CHANCE IN HELL! EITHER HELP ME OR GET OUT OF MY WAY!” the man shouted loud enough for it to be picked up on camera.

“It looks like he convinced the police officers to help. They are going into the tunnel with him!”

Harry watched in awe as the now three men made their way into the bus, each of them dragging out two small children with them.

As soon as they brought the children to the waiting ambulance, they turned around again, going back into the tunnel and pulling out six more children with them.

“I have just been informed that there are only four more children left,” Laura said in relief. “I can see the two police officers emerging from the bus now with the children.”

“The other man is still inside the bus,” Laura reported. “... I see him coming out now. He has the bus driver. It looks like the driver received the worst of it. He has a head wound that’s still bleeding quite badly, but it looks like they are all off the bus.”

Harry could only watch in horror as the tunnel shook after the reporter finished speaking. Large chunks of cement started raining down on the bus driver, the man, and the school bus. When it was over, both men were covered in chunks of cement.

The bus was completely destroyed. The roof had collapsed in, and had anyone been inside, they most definitely would not have survived.

“The two police officers are shifting through the rubble now,” the reporter said in a somber tone, the relief from earlier completely forgotten.

“The hero that stepped in to save the children is being pulled out of the rubble now. There are multiple cuts and what looks to be at the very least two broken arms, and possibly a leg. He is unconscious,” the reporter said, downcast as the paramedics carefully moved him to a waiting stretcher.

“The police have now extracted the bus driver,” she continued sadly as she looked away. “... He didn’t make it.”

The camera then focused on the man that had started the rescue, showing a clear image of his battered and unconscious face.

“Whoever this man is, he is a hero. He went into a terrible situation when no one else would. If anyone watching this broadcast knows him, please go to The Royal London Hospital… I don’t think he has much time left.”

Harry looked at the screen in horror. He recognized him. It was Ben!

Harry practically flew out of the pub, his order completely forgotten as he hailed the nearest cab and went to the hospital.

Harry was filled with anxiety as the cab made its way to the hospital. The minutes ticking by felt like hours as Harry was overcome with worry.

When they arrived, Harry rushed to the main entrance, only stopping long enough to pay the fare. 

He reached the front desk. “There’s a man you brought in. His name is Ben Parker. He was the one of the news that rescued the children from the tunnel. Is he alright?” Harry demanded. “Can I see him?”

“Are you a friend or family member?” The nurse asked as she looked up from the file she was reading.

“I’m a friend,” Harry replied. “Please, can I see him?”

“Can you contact his family?” The nurse asked. 

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I only met him a few days ago. He’s from the United States. He’s here on vacation by himself.”

“Your friend isn’t doing well,” the nurse answered. “The doctors are assessing him now, but he sustained a lot of injuries. It will be at least an hour before they’re done, probably longer.”

“I’ll wait as long as it takes,” Harry said as he sat down on a chair in the waiting room.

~***~

“Minister Fudge, I have a report for you about the vault,” Saul Croaker said as he walked into the Minister’s Office.

“Good news I hope?” Fudge asked. 

Ever since Harry had solved the cypher, the Ministry had been inundated with owls from not just the general wizarding public, but also professors and historians from around the world asking to view the contents of the vault.

So far, the Ministry had kept it under wraps under the guise of inventorying the vault, but the narrative would only hold up for so long.

“Some,” Saul answered. “We completed a basic inventory of the vault, but it is very limited.”

“Let’s have it then,” Fudge asked.

“There are 97 books on the shelf. We can’t make out the titles because of the magic obscuring it. There is a sword of unknown origins in the vault, as well as a large book sitting on a pedestal. We are assuming it’s a journal, and there is a large chest against the wall,” Saul answered.

“That’s not really much more than we already know,” Fudge surmised. “Has there been any progress on getting past the protections?”

“None.” Saul shook his head. “We’ve even had a team of curse breakers from Gringotts examine it.”

“They said they’ve seen nothing like it. They can’t even find the rune matrix for the wards.”

“There was a flash of light when Harry entered the vault,” Fudge remembered. 

“Yes, the only theory we have at the moment is that Harry Potter has been imprinted as the key to the vault, and he would have to retrieve the items himself. There’s no other way to get in.”

Fudge was afraid of this. Harry had no obligation to retrieve the contents of the vault, let alone give them to the Ministry, and he was struggling to even think of anything even remotely worthwhile he could offer to him in exchange. He already had a fortune at Gringotts.

“Alright, I’ll reach out to Harry Potter and see if there’s anything we can work out.”

Saul nodded as he left the office.

Cornelius leaned back in his chair, thinking about his meeting with James Potter. It had gone as well as he had expected.

He had never told anyone, but there was a series of two-way mirrors strategically placed around his office that recorded everything that had happened.

It was especially useful in ferreting out spies and the various listening charms that were attempted in his office on an almost daily basis.

Not all of them could be traced, but some led back to noble families, members of the Wizengamot, even ministry workers as well. It proved to be extremely useful when he needed a bill passed or a piece of legislation to be blocked.

The best part was, every time they sent someone to figure out how he was catching them out they always looked for listening spells and charms, not physical objects, and certainly not a two-way mirror the size of a nail head, all but invisible unless you were looking specifically for them.

This was the perfect time to call in his favor from Rita Skeeter. Her credibility was at an all-time high thanks to the WWN broadcast, and the exclusive interview with Harry Potter afterwards, something no other news organization had done.

And best of all, Rita had a history of exposing secrets, so he could easily claim that he did not know how she found out about his meeting with James Potter as well.

~***~

Harry sighed as he ate the last bite of the cold sandwich he got from the vending machine. He had been waiting for almost four hours. The nurses and doctors could only give him a few sporadic updates.

They had attempted emergency surgery for his internal injuries, but after only half an hour, they deemed he was too far gone for the surgeries to be of any help, and more likely to shorten his life rather than extend it.

The doctors told Harry he could see Ben as soon as he woke up, but with each passing minute, he wondered if Ben would wake up at all.

‘It’s not fair,’ Harry thought. ‘Ben is a good person. He doesn’t deserve any of this. Why are so many terrible people allowed to exist in the world, but not him?’

“Harry Potter,” a nurse called out to him. “Mr. Parker is awake. We’ve told him you’re here and he would like to speak with you.”

“Ok,” Harry nodded somberly. He would at least get to spend some time with his friend before he passed.

“Harry,” the nurse said softly. “I want to warn you before you see him. He’s sustained a lot of injuries and is very weak. You need to prepare yourself, because it will be a shock.”

Harry nodded as the nurse led him to Ben’s room. He took a deep breath before he turned the doorknob and stepped inside.

The nurse had warned him, but it was still difficult to see Ben like this. He was heavily bandaged. His chest, arms, and legs were covered in them. There was also one wrapped around his head, and Harry could see that the blood was already soaking through it.

There was definitely some swelling in his face, and Harry could tell that he had difficulty breathing from the hitch in his breath.

“Is that you, Harry?” Ben asked with difficulty.

“It’s me, Ben…” Harry trailed off, not knowing what else to say. After all, what can you say to a person who you know is dying?

“Come sit down here,” Ben said slowly, having trouble getting the words out.

Harry sat down in the chair beside Ben. “I saw the news report. When I found out it was you, I came here as fast as I could.”

“I know… the doctors and nurses… They said there was someone waiting to see me. I hoped… that it would be you,” Ben said.

“Why did you have to go in there, Ben? Why didn’t you wait for the rescue workers like everyone else?” Harry asked sadly.

“Believe me.” Ben let out a wheezing laugh. “It wasn’t my first choice either.”

“Then why?” Harry asked. “Why would you risk your life for them like that? You didn’t even know them.”

“Someone had to, Harry,” Ben replied simply.

“You told me that helping other people was good, that all the good you put out into the world would come back to you one day,” Harry said sadly. “But it was a lie. Look what happened to you. Where is all that good now?”

“It’s in this room with me… right now,” Ben said, looking up at Harry with conviction.

“What are you talking about? Nothing good happened today.” Harry retorted. “The world is just a cruel and terrible place.”

“I know it seems that way now, but I promise you it’s not,” Ben denied. “You need to believe that.” 

“You’re going to die, Ben,” Harry felt deflated. “I don’t see any of that good today.” 

“You’re right Harry, I’m going to die, and it’s difficult to find the good in times like this, but it’s still there.” 

“When I woke up in this hospital bed I was so afraid I was going to die alone, that there would be no one with me at the end, just some well-meaning strangers.”

“Then the doctors told me there was someone here waiting for me, that they knew my name, that they had been waiting for me.”

“You… You are the good I put out into the world, returning to me,” Ben said, his voice thick with emotion.

“When I die, it will be in the company of a friend. In the end, that’s all anyone can really ask for.”

Harry couldn’t hold it back anymore. The tears just started streaming down his face. ‘Why was the world like this? Why was it so cruel? Why did good people have to die? Why did bad get to keep people keep living?’

He hadn’t cried like this in a long time, not since he was five, when he had lost someone else.

“It’s alright Harry,” Ben said comfortingly. “When it’s our time, it’s just our time.”

“It isn’t fair,” Harry said, wiping away his tears.

“No, it’s not,” Ben agreed. “Life never is, but I’m glad that I got a chance to meet you.” 

Harry just looked back at him with watery eyes.

“Tell me Harry,” Ben asked. “When I gave you the money, did it help you?”

Harry nodded his head. “Yes.”

“Did you pay it forward? Were you able to help someone else?” Ben asked.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “Not yet.”

“That’s ok… I know you’re a good kid, you’ll get the chance to.”

“Do you think you can do something for me, Harry?” Ben asked.

“Anything,” Harry said. “Just name it.”

“I’m married. My wife’s name is May,” Ben said. “She doesn’t know what happened. The nurses tried to call her, but she must have been out. Can you call her and tell her I love her? Tell her I’m sorry we won’t get to have that dance I promised her.”

Harry felt his heart break at that moment. Ben was dying in front of him, and he never once thought about himself. It wasn’t right, the world shouldn’t work this way. He wouldn’t let it work that way.

As soon as Harry had that thought, the world flashed away around him. Everywhere he could see was just white, he was in a void of complete nothingness.

Harry panicked, wondering where he was, looking around for anything. Finally, he saw something far off in the distance. As he ran closer, he could see it, a wooden bridge.

Harry walked out onto the bridge. There was a figure walking towards him in the distance, slowly getting closer. It was an old man with a beard, weaning gray robes, and holding a staff in his hands.

The man finally came to a stop in front of him.

“Who are you?” Harry demanded. “What is this place? Where am I?”

“You are in your mind, Harry, and I am Merlin,” the man answered.

“Merlin? But how? You died more than a thousand years ago,” Harry answered in surprise, realizing what was happening. “Nimue said it would be my most recent incarnation that I would meet first.”

“... Nimue,” Merlin paused. “... I have not heard that name in a long time.… Then she must have already explained what’s happening to you.”

“She told me I would have to meet each of my incarnations, starting from the most recent. So how are you here?” Harry asked.

“I am not sure,” Merlin answered. “In my lifetime, across all of our incarnations that I have met, we have always followed the chain. This has never happened before.”

“How did you get here and how am I here?” Harry asked.

“You are the Prime. You drew upon the chain,” Merlin answered.

“The Prime? What does that mean?” Harry asked.

“You are the Prime incarnation of our soul,” Merlin explained. “And you called me forth.” 

“Every time you call upon an incarnation, we begin in your mind, and you must choose to allow us in or send us back.” 

“So the question is, why have you summoned me? What has happened?” Merlin asked.

“I have a friend. He’s hurt badly and I want to save him, but I don’t know how,” Harry explained. “I need to get back to him. He doesn’t have much time left.”

“I understand now,” Merlin nodded. “And you need not worry about the time. In the confines of your mind, time moves much more slowly. While we are here, only moments will pass in the real world.”

“What do you understand?” Harry asked.

“The need to save someone you care about is a powerful force,” Merlin explained. “That need allowed you to reach me because I know the magics you require, the ones your more recent incarnations don’t know of.”

“Can you save my friend?” Harry asked desperately.

“It doesn’t quite work that way, Harry,” Merlin explained. “With every incarnation, it is the same soul and the same magic. What you gain is our knowledge and our experiences. I have no magic to wield. I would have to teach you what you need to know.”

“How long will that take?” Harry asked.

“A long time,” Merlin answered. “What you ask for is not an incantation you recite while you point your wand. These are the deep magics.”

“You must commune with magic itself, understand how it interacts with the world, and how you connect with it. Only after that can you do this.”

“There must be something?” Harry asked. “What good are all these incarnations when they can’t save the people I care about?”

“Harry…,” Merlin said. “What you ask for is not wise.”

“So, there is a way?” Harry asked.

“It is dangerous, Harry, very dangerous,” Merlin warned.

“What is it? Tell me,” Harry demanded.

“If you let me in, I can guide your magic through the spell,” Merlin explained. “But you are not ready for this, Harry. This will tax your magic like nothing you have ever felt before, and you may not survive it.”

“You mean I would have to accept you as the first link in the chain?” Harry asked as he remembered Nimue’s warnings.

“Yes Harry,” Merlin answered. “And I am certain that Nimue has warned you of the dangers of doing so before you are ready.”

“I implore you, Harry, spend your friend’s last moments with him. You are not ready for this.”

“You’re not how Nimue described you,” Harry observed. “She said that you would ask for something in return for your help.”

“Yes, who I was the last time I saw Nimue. I would have done exactly that,” Merlin agreed. 

“I was lost. I delved too far into our incarnations, and while I learned many things, some beautiful, some terrible, I lost a piece of myself each time.” 

“It took a long time after that to recognize what I became, and even longer still, to find my way back.”

“... I can’t let Ben die,” Harry said, deciding. “He is a good person. He doesn’t deserve this.”

“Then you have decided,” Merlin said as he held out his hand for Harry to take.

Harry reached out, clasping Merlin’s hand, and he was suddenly back in the hospital room with Ben.

“Are you okay, Harry?” Ben asked.

“Why? What happened?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know,” Ben replied. “You just stopped moving, like you were frozen”

“I’m ok,” Harry replied. “And so will you,” he promised.

“What are you talking ab-” Ben said, but stopped in shock as he looked into Harry’s eyes.

Harry’s eyes glowed an unearthly, almost angelic white as Merlin’s will guided his magic. From there, the light spread to the rest of his face, flowing down his shoulders, then his arms.

Harry reached out, touching Ben’s chest. Somehow, he could feel everything that was broken. He could feel the cracked and broken bones, lacerations, internal bleeding, spinal cord damage, the bruising to his heart, all of it.

Harry slowly started feeding his magic into the injuries, speeding up Ben’s natural healing exponentially.

He first started with the heart, regenerating and knitting together the muscle fibers, and then doing the same for the broken ribs.

Ben didn’t know what was happening, but he could feel the pain in his chest that he felt when he woke up slowly fade. He could finally breathe without feeling the pain of each breath.

Then he felt the skull fracture, and the broken bones of his arms and legs disappear as well. 

As he felt the deep lacerations across his body healing, the light surrounding Harry abruptly stopped and he slumped over.

“Harry? Harry?” Ben asked in panic, trying to shake him awake. “What happened? Are you alright?”

His raised voice must have alerted the doctors and nurses outside because they quickly rushed in, looking at his heart monitor and asking question after question.

“What happened?”

“Why did you scream?”

“Where are you feeling the pain?”

“I’m FINE!” Ben finally shouted, sitting up. “Check on the kid, is he ok?”

The nurses and the doctors in the room all stopped in shock as they stared at the man that was literally on death’s door a moment ago. He shouldn’t have been able to sit up, let alone yell with all the injuries he sustained.

“Don’t just stand there!” Ben shouted. “Is he ok!?”

A doctor finally reached down to check on the boy, slumped over in the chair and checked for a pulse. “He has a pulse, but it’s very weak,” he observed.

“What happened to him?” The doctor asked.

This put Ben in a difficult position. Would they believe him if he told them what really happened? What would the government do if they found out what Harry could do?

“We were talking, and he just passed out,” Ben lied. “Is he going to be ok?”

“I’m not sure,” the doctor said. “His pulse is weak, and he’s very thin for his age. There are some signs of malnutrition as well.”

“Put him on the other bed,” the doctor told the nurses. 

As the nurses removed Harry’s shirt and connected the leads to the heart monitor, they all stared at him with worry.

Without the baggy shirt, they could all see how thin he really was, and the heart monitor showed his heart beat getting weaker still. 

The nurse connected the IV into Harry’s unresponsive arm with worry. She had seen very few children in the condition that Harry was in.

Chapter Text

‘What’s going on?’ Harry thought to himself as he sat up. The last thing he remembered was using his magic to heal Ben. Then everything went dark. Now he was in a small stone room, with no windows or doors.

“You’re magically exhausted,” Merlin answered his unspoken question.

“What is this place?” Harry asked.

“This is your mind,” Merlin replied.

“But you said the white void was my mind,” Harry said in confusion.

“It is as well. This stone room represents your sense of self, your consciousness, and memories. The white void is the portion of your mind that is unused.”

“Normally, as you get older, learn and experience things, your mind will naturally expand, and this room will change and grow with you.”

“The flashes you felt and the initial pain were your mind expanding much more quickly than someone could naturally do.”

“It’s tiny,” Harry observed as he looked around. There was a small wooden desk against a wall, and a few books haphazardly stacked on the desk and chair, but other than that, the room was empty.

The walls were rough, with jagged edges, and the floor was uneven, and jutted out sharply in places. It looked like it was put together in a rush.

“Yes,” Merlin agreed. “But considering your situation, it was not unexpected.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“This room is a representation of your mind, magic, and body,” Merlin explained. “None of them are in particularly good condition.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

“You are eleven years old, so you have not lived enough of a life to require anything larger than a room this size.” Merlin answered.

“Your magic has only just begun to mature. It’s rough, unrefined. That is represented by the stone walls.”

“Your body is malnourished and weak. That is why the floor is so uneven. Added to that, your magic has been supporting your body and keeping you alive, putting a strain on it as well.”

“The small pile of books on the desk represents your mind, what you have learned over your life.”

“Is there a way for me to fix it?” Harry asked.

“There is, but it will require a lot of time and work from you,” Merlin answered.

“What do I have to do?” Harry asked.

“At the moment you do nothing, your magic is all but depleted. What little you have is just barely keeping you alive.”

“How do I wake up?” Harry asked.

“You will do so naturally when your magic regenerates. You have subconsciously put yourself in this state to limit your magic use and bodily functions until you recover.”

“I opened your vault,” Harry said, remembering what he wanted to ask Merlin.

“I know. I have viewed your memories,” Merlin explained.

“What?” Harry asked in alarm.

“It was necessary to train you properly, and to understand what was happening to you.” Merlin explained.

“I never agreed to that,” Harry said. There were quite a few memories in his life that he wanted to keep to himself.

“You invited me in Harry, that allowed me to see your memories, and I only exist within your mind. There is no one I can share your secrets with,” Merlin explained.

“Fine,” Harry said, realizing what was done was done. “I need to know. Did I solve the cyphers on my own or did you do something?”

“That is a complicated question,” Merlin replied. “You solved the cyphers on your own, however the information you needed to come to the right conclusion came from a book you glanced at briefly when you were five. At that time, you did not even understand what you were reading.”

It is unlikely that you would have remembered enough about the book to solve the cyphers without your mind expanding.”

“Our soul is also the only one that can access the vault. That was the final protection I put in place.”

“If anyone else solved the cyphers, the vault would have remained closed, regardless.”

Harry felt his heart drop at Merlin’s revelation. He may not have known it at the time, but he was a fraud. The world believed that he was some kind of prodigy that had solved a thousand year old mystery, but it was all a lie.

‘The only reason I could solve the cypher is because of what happened to me, and the vault door only opened for me because of something I had no control over,’ Harry thought sadly.

“Why?” Harry asked. “Why do all of this, why bother with the cyphers, why give all these clues if we were the only ones that could open the door?” Harry asked in confusion.

“You already know that, Harry, it was the answer to all the cyphers, Power,” Merlin answered calmly.

“What?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Power,” Merlin repeated, “Is the most important force in the world. It created kings, uplifted entire civilizations, it allowed us to re-make the world in our image.”

“What does that have to do with your vault?” Harry asked.

“There are many types of power, Harry, and many ways to wield that power.” Merlin continued.

“There is the power of your body, the strength in your arms and legs.”

“There is the power of wealth to acquire the things you need.”

“There is the power of your name, your reputation, to inspire those around you to do your bidding.”

“I created the vault to increase the power of our name. All the clues, the cyphers, the mystery behind the vault. It was all so that when you solved it, the people would take notice of you. It would propel you to the top of whatever society that emerged after my death.”

“Power? Is that all it is? What about the truth?” Harry said, remembering Ben’s words.

“Those who have power decide the truth,” Merlin rebutted. “Look in any history book and you will find the society that won the war is the one that was right.”

“Why did you need to ensure your future incarnations had this power? What was it for?” Harry demanded.

“Something is coming, Harry, something terrible. We need this and a great deal more, or it will be the end of all of us,” Merlin said gravely.

“How do you know?” Harry asked.

“I met a being near the end of my life. There was something otherworldly about them. They showed me a future of death and destruction on a scale, the likes of which I have never seen before.”

“They told me to build the vault, safeguard certain items, and that it would one day be opened by one of my future incarnations. It will be in that incarnation's lifetime that the threat would emerge.” 

“I never imagined when it happened you would be so young, or unprepared for what lies ahead.”

Harry’s mind was reeling when he heard what Merlin had said. It was so much worse than he expected. If he didn’t open the vault could all this have been avoided? How could he be responsible for something like that?

“How do you know it was the truth? What if it was some elaborate lie?” Harry asked.

“I asked myself that question many times over for the rest of my life, Harry,” Merlin admitted. “But it all came down to one thing in the end, a being that powerful wouldn’t need to lie. Anything they wanted in the world was theirs for the taking.”

“If I didn’t open the vault none of this would have happened,” Harry said feeling guilty.

“Possibly,” Merlin allowed. “But regardless of what you could have done, that vault was going to open one way or another.”

“I thought I could control it as well. I created a puzzle that only someone with my knowledge could solve. I intended to train you before you even opened the vault, but things don’t always go to plan.”

“So, what are we supposed to do now?” Harry asked.

“You are not ready for a burden like this, Harry, not now, and I don’t know that I can prepare you in the time we have,” Merlin explained.

“How much time do we have?” Harry asked.

“I don’t know,” Merlin admitted. “It could be a year, it could be a decade, there’s no way of knowing for certain.”

“There must be something we can do,” Harry replied.

“I will train you to the best of my ability, teach you everything that I have ever learned, and what I have learned from our previous incarnations. We must hope that it will be enough.” Merlin answered.

“Alright,” Harry agreed. “What kind of training will I need to do?”

“The first thing we will need to do is fix your body,” Merlin explained. “Your magic and your mind will do you no good if you are too weak to use them.”

“When you wake up, I will show you how to brew a series of nutritional potions that you will need to take over the next few days. That will correct the damage to your body.”

“Then we will brew another set to help you enhance your strength, speed and dexterity. There are also a few rituals and self transfigurations you will need to perform, but that will have to be much later.”

“We will also work on your spell repertoire, and casting speed, that will only improve with practice.”

“Lastly, we will work on your mind to create a Mind Palace.”

“Mind Palace?” Harry asked. “What is that?”

“A Mind Palace is the representation of unity and balance of your mind, magic, and body. At the moment, it is this small stone room, but with enough hard work, it will be as large and as complex as you can imagine.”

“The most powerful wizards and witches that have ever lived understood this balance and strived to achieve it.”

Harry was about to ask another question when everything faded around him. “What’s going on?” He asked in alarm.

“You’re waking up Harry,” Merlin replied. “We will speak again later.”

Harry felt disoriented at first. He was lying down in a bed, and he could hear a beeping in the background.

He rubbed his face as he opened his eyes and looked around. He was in the hospital room with Ben.

“Are you alright, kid?” Ben asked. “You gave us all quite the scare.”

“Ben?” Harry asked, finding his glasses on the table beside him and putting them on. “Did it work? Are you ok now?”

“I’m a lot better now,” Ben smiled. “I still have a few broken bones, but the damage to my heart, lungs, and head are completely healed. The doctors are calling it a miracle.”

“What about you Harry? It was real touch and go in the first half hour. The doctors weren’t sure you were going to make it.” Ben asked, in concern.

“I think I’m ok now,” Harry said.

“What happened Harry? How did you do that?” Ben asked.

“... I’m different,” Harry said after a moment’s thought. “I can do magic. That’s what I used to fix you.”

“Magic? For real,… actual magic?” Ben asked in surprise.

Harry nodded.

“... I… wow,” Ben said. “I knew it had to be something. I just didn’t think magic was real. Thank you, Harry, thank you for saving my life,” Ben said, his voice thick with emotion.

Harry looked down at his lap, not sure what to say. No one had ever thanked him before, at least as far as he could remember. “You’re welcome,” Harry finally said.

“It looked like it hurt you as well to use your magic. Does that happen every time as well?” Ben asked.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “That spell was different… It wasn’t something I was prepared to cast.”

“... Don’t get me wrong Harry, I’m grateful for you saving my life, but I don’t want you risking your life to save mine,” Ben said firmly.

“I couldn’t just let you die, Ben,” Harry denied.

The two lapsed into silence, each able to see the other’s perspective, but neither one was willing to admit it.

“How long have I been asleep for?” Harry asked.

“It’s been about a day and a half,” Ben replied. “I wanted to ask when I first met you, but I didn’t want to pry, and now the doctors brought it up as well.”

“They said you were malnourished. Harry, is everything ok at home for you… Do you have a home?” Ben asked, in concern.

‘I do, but it’s never felt like one to me,” Harry admitted. “My parents… they don’t really want me around.”

“You don’t have to go back to them, Harry,” Ben said. “There are people that can help, heck I’ll even take you in.”

Harry looked at Ben in surprise and then smiled. Ben always thought about other people first. “I’m not going back to them,” Harry revealed. “I’m going to be ok.”

“What happened?” Ben asked.

Harry gathered his thoughts, wondering where to even begin. There was so much. “My people are called wizards and witches,” Harry explained. “We’ve been living in hiding from the rest of the world for a long time.”

“There was a wizard named Merlin. He created a vault, about 1000 years ago, with a series of cyphers that had to be solved to open it,” Harry summarized.

“Our government created a prize for anyone that could solve the cyphers. A few days ago, I was able to solve it.”

“That’s amazing Harry!” Ben replied.

Harry nodded. “I thought so too, until I found out the truth. The vault, the cyphers, all of it was an elaborate lie.”

“What do you mean?” Ben asked.

“There was a lot more to it than I realized,” Harry continued. “Merlin… he wasn’t like other wizards. He reincarnates every time he dies, living over and over again.”

“I found out that I’m the next reincarnation, and I’m the only one that could have opened the vault.”

“He wanted people to find the vault and try to open it and fail, so that when I finally did, everyone would believe that I’m special.” Harry explained.

“He must have had a reason to do all of that,” Ben said. “Did you find out what it was?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “He said that something bad was going to happen, that he had to create the vault to give us a chance to survive it.”

“Do you believe him?” Ben asked.

“I think so…” Harry said. “I don’t think he had a reason to lie about it.”

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Ben asked.

“I thought that when I solved the vault… I was so proud of myself, but it’s all a lie. I’m a fraud,” Harry explained.

“Did anyone else come close?” Ben asked.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “But that isn’t the point. The only reason I could solve it was because of an ability I got from being the next incarnation. I never would have been able to figure it out otherwise.”

“Now you don’t feel you deserve any of it,” Ben summarized.

Harry nodded. “They think I’m this prodigy, but I’m not.”

“Then make it true,” Ben stated.

“What?” Harry asked. “What do you mean?”

“Make it true, study harder than everyone else, work harder than everyone else, and try harder than everyone else, until you become that person,” Ben explained.

“Just like that?” Harry asked.

“No,” Ben laughed, shaking his head. “It’s definitely not going to be easy. It will probably be the hardest thing you will ever do. You are going to fail a lot, but as long as you keep picking yourself up and keep trying, you have a chance to become who you want to be.”

Harry mulled over Ben’s words. Could he really do it? He honestly didn’t know, but he wanted it to be true.

“There’s something else too,” Harry said. “I was warned about Merlin, that he isn’t like what the myths make him out to be.”

“What did they say?” Ben asked.

“They said that Merlin wasn’t a very nice person. That he manipulated other people to get what he wanted. He believes that power is the most important thing, and the ones that have it decide what’s right and wrong.”

“And what do you think, now that you’ve met Merlin?” Ben asked.

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. “He has a reason for everything he did, a good one, but I don’t really know if I can trust everything he says,” Harry admitted.

Ben nodded in understanding. “Then trust your instincts and be careful. Having power and being corrupted by it is a very slippery slope. You can start out with the best of intentions, but still end up worse than the thing you were fighting if you’re not careful.”

“All that power has to come with a lot of responsibility if you want to make the world better.”

“I’m glad you’re here, Ben,” Harry said thankfully. “I don’t think that I would have been able to figure out what to do without you.”

~***~

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office at Hogwarts pondering what to do. So far, all his efforts to find Harry Potter had come up empty. He was so sure that he would find him in the Leaky Cauldron, but according to Tom, the boy had never set foot in there.

To make matters worse, his contacts at Gringotts told him that not only had Harry acquired a Goblin made ring that obscured his identity, but he also had a meeting with the chairman of Gringotts himself.

Added to that, his apparent friendship with Fudge made it even more complicated to have the discussion he needed to with Harry.

He was just about to reach for a lemon drop when his fireplace roared to life and he saw the face of Arthur Weasley.

“Sorry to bother you Professor, I just heard a rumor in the Ministry, and thought you would want to know,” Arthur apologized.

“Think nothing of it,” Albus said in his grandfatherly tone. “I’m not much for gossip, but if you think it’s important, I would like to hear it.”

“A couple of the boys have been talking. They said they saw James Potter at the Ministry,” Arthur said.

“What?” Albus said, sitting up at full attention. “What was he doing there?”

“That’s just it, no one knows, the Minister hasn’t said a word about it. But the rumor is James just stormed in there, demanding a meeting with Fudge. When he came out, he was even angrier.”

Albus ground his teeth. James Potter was becoming more and more of a liability with each passing day.

“Is everything ok Professor?” Arthur asked as he saw the look on Albus’s face.

“Oh yes, everything is fine, probably just another baseless rumour,” Albus said, as he schooled his features back to the kindly headmaster. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll speak to James and get this sorted out.”

Arthur smiled. “Your welcome. Goodnight professor,” He said as he cut the connection.

As soon as the floo call ended, Albus picked up his bowl of lemon drops and threw them at the wall in frustration.

If it wasn’t bad enough that he had to chase after a wayward 11 year child, he now had to deal with the fallout caused by a man that seemingly never grew out of childhood.

“James Potter, Potter Manor,” Albus said as he threw a pinch of floo powder into his fireplace.

“Hello Professor,” Lily greeted when she recognized him.

“Hello Lily,” Albus said with forced calm. “Is James at home? I would like to speak with both of you.”

“Oh yes,” Lily smiled. “He’s just in the other room. I’ll go get him.”

“Thank you dear,” Albus said as Lily walked out of the room.

Lily returned a moment later with James in tow. “Here he is Professor.”

“Would you both mind stepping through? I have something rather important to discuss with the both of you,” Albus asked.

“Will it take long?” Lily asked. “Glory is in her room playing.”

“Not long,” Albus answered. “She won’t even know that you’re gone.”

“Did you get a hold of the boy?” James asked.

“No, this isn’t about Harry,” Albus said seriously. “I just heard a very interesting rumor about you,” he said as he pointed at James, “I’m told you visited the Ministry recently. Is. It. True.” Albus said, punctuating each word.

“Yeah,” James smiled. “I went over there and gave old Fudge a piece of my mind. He’ll be thinking twice before he pulls another stunt like that.”

Albus felt his jaw drop at what James had said. “... You….” For a moment, he didn’t even know how to respond. This was so much worse than he assumed. “Have you lost your mind? What would possess you to do something so foolish?!”

“I don’t see what the big issue is,” James said dismissively. “Everyone knows that he’s a fool, and in Malfoy’s back pocket, to boot. He only won the election because of what happened with Crouch.”

“... Do you really believe that if there was even a shred of evidence that a sitting minister for Magic was accepting bribes that Magical Law Enforcement would not fully investigate them?” Albus asked.

James sputtered as he worked out those details in his head. “But… that’s what everyone says about him,” he stammered, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

“No,” Albus denied. “That is what his political opponents say about him to the press as ‘confidential’ informants.”

“You think he is a buffoon that lucked his way into becoming Minister, and held his office despite taking bribes from known Death Eaters?”

“Let me dissuade you of that notion right now,” Albus dressed him down. “No one can not be elected as Minister while openly taking bribes and consorting with possible Death Eaters.”

“Cornelius Fudge, despite my personal feelings about him, is very good at his job. This is exactly why I told you in no uncertain terms to stay away from him.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” James dismissed. “All we did was talk, and then I left. He didn’t even know I was going to show up.”

Albus sighed internally. Dealing with James Potter was nothing but a headache at the best of times. He believed himself to be far more important than he was, and far more intelligent than he was.

The man had absolutely no skills for politics, lashing out when he didn’t get his way, and always believing he was the smartest person in the room.

If not for the fact that Gloria Potter was the savior, he would have as little to do with the man as possible.

Albus had spent a substantial amount of his political capital on the man over the years, and seriously questioned the wisdom of continuing to invest in him.

“James, you were at the Ministry because Fudge wanted you to be there. That is the reason he emancipated Harry in the first place, to draw you out.” Albus explained. “So you need to tell me exactly what you talked about.”

“I just told him he had no right to emancipate Harry and that he should be at home with his family. Then I told him to rescind his decision.”

“He refused to do it, and I told him this was far from over and left. That’s it.” James said, carefully avoiding what he had learned happened to Fudge’s wife.

There was no reason to get another lecture from Albus about it. After all, there was nothing Fudge could really do about it.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about,” Lily smiled. “James may have lost his temper, but there’s no real harm was done.”

“... Let’s hope that is all this is,” Albus said finally.

In Albus’s experience, Cornelius did not just do things on a whim. He was very shrewd with his moves on the chessboard, and sometimes he had even been surprised by his actions.

Chapter Text

Rita stood in the muggle playground watching the children play wistfully as she waited for her contact.

She had put her career ahead of everything else for a long time, and she never regretted the decision, but part of her would always wonder what would happen if she chose a normal career. Would she be married? Would she have had children?

"Hello Rita, thank you for meeting me," Cornelius Fudge said as he walked up beside her.

"Fudge?" Rita said, surprised. "You're my anonymous contact? We could have just met in your office or at the Leaky Cauldron."

"What I have for you is far too sensitive to chance anyone overhearing us," Fudge replied.

"What do you have for me?" Rita asked, intrigued.

"First, when you publish this article, it can not lead back to me. You need to credit it to a confidential informant," Fudge replied.

"So does that mean you're calling in your favor?" Rita asked.

"Yes," Fudge agreed. "I need this article to appear in the Daily Prophet, and if it turns out the way I think it will, you will have a lot more articles to write after that." He said as he handed her a large envelope.

Rita took the envelope from Fudge. Her career had actually taken off since the museum. They had republished her interview in wizarding newspapers around the word leading to the largest payday of her entire career.

It gave her the validation and respect from her peers that she had craved so much from when she first became a reporter. She wasn't just a gossip columnist anymore. She was a respected journalist now.

"I'll look into it," Rita agreed. "But I want you to know I will follow this wherever it goes. I won't name you as my source, but you can't dictate what I follow this up with."

"That's all I ask, Rita," Cornelius smiled as he walked away.

Rita spent a few more minutes watching the children play before she left as well. All this subterfuge and secrecy must mean that it was something big.

Harry sat on his bed, considering what to do. He had been discharged from the hospital a couple of days ago, and what he had discussed with both Ben and Merlin weighed heavily on his mind.

If what Merlin said was true, how could he possibly be ready for something like that?

Ben had told him to trust his instincts, and right now, they were telling him that Merlin was telling the truth about the threat he mentioned, but he was also hiding something big from him.

The doctor had also told him he was malnourished, and he needed to eat properly, which was exactly what Merlin had said as well. It was a regular occurrence for him to be sent to his room without meals as punishment from his parents. It looked like it had finally caught up with him.

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on reaching out to Merlin, just like he did when he needed to help Ben.

When he opened them again, he was back inside the stone room again. It looked just like it did the last time, but this time Merlin was sitting at the desk.

"I was wondering when you would return," Merlin said as he stood up. "I trust your friend is alright now?"

"Yes, he's going to be ok," Harry nodded. "Thank you."

"Then there is no time to waste. We have a lot of work to do," Merlin replied. "Using that spell nearly killed you. You were far from ready, even with my help to cast it."

"The first thing we need to do is fix the damage to your body. Luckily for you, I know of a few nutritional potions we can make to do just that."

"I don't know how to do that," Harry admitted. "I only read the first year potions text so far."

"Your magic has recovered enough for me to see through your eyes and speak to you mentally," Merlin explained. "I will guide you on how to brew them."

"How do I know I can trust you?" Harry asked.

"You don't," Merlin admitted. "But what you can trust is that I don't want the world to end, and that the strongest possible version of you is the most likely one to stop what's coming."

"I'm not the person I used to be, Harry, and I will do everything I can to prepare you," Merlin promised.

"Alright," Harry agreed, deciding to reserve judgment. "How do we start?"

"Open your eyes and get us to an apothecary," Merlin instructed. "We need some ingredients."

When Harry opened his eyes, he was back in his room at the Leaky Cauldron. Donning his cloak and ring, Harry left the Leaky Cauldron with a quick wave to Tom as he made his way to Mulpepper's Apothecary. It would also be a good time to pick up his potions supplies for the year.

When Harry arrived, it wasn't very busy. There were only two other customers milling about.

The first one was a tall man dressed in black with greasy hair and the other was an old woman that was looking through the potions ingredients.

Harry went to the front counter to talk to Mr. Mulpepper. "Hello, I need to get some potion ingredients."

"Certainly, what can I get you?" Nicholas Mulpepper asked.

"I need a basic potions ingredient kit, a set of glass vials, a set of scales, and 1 standard size 2 pewter cauldron," Harry remembered from the school list.

"The standard first year Hogwarts kit," Nick replied. "Not a problem. We still have quite a few sets left," he said as he placed a small box on the counter. "Just tap it with your wand to enlarge it."

"There are also a few other things I need as well," Harry said as he repeated the things that Merlin was saying to him.

"Alright, that's quite the list," Nick said as he gathered the ingredients for him.

Neither one of them noticed the man in black that narrowed his eyes at Harry, gazing at him.

"For the whole lot, it will be 150 galleons. Can you afford that?" Nick asked expectantly.

Harry thought about what he had spent so far, with his new robes, wand holster and potions ingredients. It was a little more than half the galleons he had with him, but there should still be enough left over to cover his school books.

"I have the galleons," Harry said as he counted out the coins and put them on the counter.

"Alright then," Nick said as he packed up the ingredients, shrank them, and handed them to Harry as well.

Harry pocketed his ingredients and walked out of the apothecary, passing the man in black on his way out the door.

"Mr. Mulpepper, who was that?" The man in black asked.

"Oh, hello professor. I don't rightly know, he had some type of glamor covering his face, but he bought a first year Hogwarts kit," Nick replied.

"He bought more than that," the professor snapped. "What else?"

"Well, let's see," Nick thought out loud. "There was some unicorn horn, mandrake, wormwood, salamander blood, and some lionfish spines-"

"So he's attempting to brew healing potions," the professor surmised. "Did he say where he was going?"

"No," Nick shook his head. "What's all this about, professor?"

Rather than answer him, the professor quickly walked outside, looking for him. Catching him out of the corner of his eye, he followed.

Whoever they were, they were heading towards the Leaky Cauldron. But Tom had already said that Harry wasn't staying there, but when he pushed the door open and walked inside, it became obvious.

Tom must have lied to Albus. 'The boy probably paid him off,' the professor thought as he turned on his heel and returned to the Apothecary.

"Mr. Mulpepper, I will need to use your fireplace," the professor said.

"Yes, of course. It's just in the other room, professor," Nick pointed at the door.

"Hogwarts, Headmaster's office," the man said as he threw a pinch of floo powder into the fireplace.

"Ah Severus, hello," Albus greeted the potions professor and head of house Slytherin.

"Albus, I think I just saw Harry Potter in Diagon Alley," Severus revealed.

"Harry Potter? How can you be certain it was him?" Albus asked.

"His face was obscured, but he ordered the first year Hogwarts potions kit," Severus answered.

"Did you see where he went? Were you able to follow him?" Albus asked.

"He went into the Leaky Cauldron," Severus said.

"Then he must be staying in the muggle world," Albus sighed. "That will make it more difficult to find him."

"I don't think so," Severus disagreed. "He bought more than the standard potions kit. From the ingredients, it was likely for some healing or restorative potions. He would need a clean, temperature controlled room to brew those."

"And you don't believe he will do that in the muggle world?" Albus asked.

"He's still a minor in the muggle world. He can't buy a house or even rent a hotel room without an adult." Severus explained.

"So, you believe he is staying in the Leaky Cauldron, despite what Tom has already told us," Albus surmised.

"The boy probably paid off Tom to keep his secret," Severus explained.

"Very well, I will send an owl to the Leaky Cauldron to set up a meeting with him," Albus said.

"I doubt it would do any good," Severus shook his head. "That whole family is too arrogant for their own good. They think they can just throw around their money and influence and get away with whatever they want," he said as he cut the floo connection.

Harry set up the cauldron in his room as Merlin instructed and prepared the ingredients to Merlin's specifications.

"Alright Harry," Merlin instructed. "The first potion you will need to brew is the healing potion. It should make ten doses which you need to take every morning for the next 10 days before breakfast."

"You should feel the effects almost immediately. More energy, faster recovery, increased strength," Merlin rattled off.

"Start by pouring in the first vial of salamander blood, then stir until it turns orange."

"So this potion will help with my malnutrition?" Harry asked as he followed the instructions.

"Yes," Merlin replied. "It's something I learned about forty years ago, my time. I imagine it would be fairly common knowledge now, expense notwithstanding."

"Alright, now add the second vial of salamander blood, but don't stop stirring. We have to wait until the potion turns yellow."

"What else can you tell me about the threat you mentioned before?" Harry asked.

"Not much. The man who told me called himself the Ancient One, and he seemed to know who I was, even though I had never met him before."

"Add the next vial and keep stirring."

"Was he like us?" Harry asked.

"No, not as far as I could see. He couldn't re-incarnate, and he wasn't a wizard, at least in the way the wizarding world is. The magic he could use differed greatly from ours."

"Is there a way we can find him if he's still alive?" Harry asked. "Maybe he knows more about what's going to happen now."

"Stir in the five lionfish spines now," Merlin instructed.

"I met him when I was traveling through Zhongguo, but he was the one that found me."

"I tried to find him again many times over my lifetime, but I never saw him again. All I could find were myths and legends."

"Then what can we do?" Harry asked.

"The only thing we can, train and prepare as best we can," Merlin replied.

With Merlin's help, Harry completed the last steps of the potion and left it to simmer.

Harry was startled a moment later when an owl arrived, carrying a letter. It surprised him that the owl could even find him. The only person who knew he was here was Tom, and he doubted the man would have said anything now.

Harry took the letter and watched as the owl flew off through the open window.

Harry opened the letter, pulled out the envelope, and read the letter.

Harry Potter,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have been trying to find you for quite some time now.

There are a few matters we need to discuss of the utmost importance.

When you receive this letter, come to my office at Hogwarts.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin, First Class, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.

"How does he even know I'm here?" Harry asked.

"That's the least of your problems," Merlin replied. "There's a compulsion charm on the letter to trust the sender. If I hadn't protected your mind, you would be on your way to his office right now."

"Compulsion charm?" Harry asked.

"Yes, it's very subtle. It's not quite mind control because it affects your subconscious more than your conscious mind, but can be very effective."

"Even the way the letter is written, it's with the aim of getting you to do what you are told."

"This Dumbledore isn't asking you for a meeting. He's demanding it. The way he writes all his titles at the bottom is to inform you he is your superior, not just as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but also a high-ranking member of the government."

"A little ham fisted in his approach, but it should be quite effective on children."

Harry remembered his interactions with Dumbledore. Both after he opened the vault, and the way he ignored him when he came to Potter Manor. It was like he was invisible to him.

That was enough to put him on edge around the headmaster, and the compulsion charm only added to that.

"Do I even need to go to Hogwarts?" Harry asked. "I'm already emancipated, and you can teach me a lot more than I could ever learn there."

"This is where you need to be the most careful, Harry," Merlin advised. "Your emancipation was granted at the whim of the Minister of Magic. If he chooses, he can rescind the emancipation, along with any other minister that replaces him."

"Is there a way I can stop that from happening?" Harry asked. He thought he was finally free of his family, and the last thing he wanted to do was go back to them.

"It's unlikely for the current minister to rescind it," Merlin explained. "It would reflect badly on him, as he was the one that decided it."

"However," Merlin said as he noted the feeling of relief from Harry. "It will also reflect badly on him if you appear to be unhinged, or too immature for the responsibility you have been granted, and he will move against you before your actions affect his reputation."

"There has to be something I can do," Harry said. He was tired of living under the thumb of other people and did not want to go back to that.

"You need to build your own power base," Merlin explained. "You have already made a good start by solving my cypher, so you are already well known in the international wizarding community."

"Build on those achievements. Use some of the money in your vault to help the less fortunate. Perhaps food for the homeless, or some type of scholarship to help those less fortunate attend Hogwarts," Merlin suggested.

Harry remembered what Gringott had told him about finding someone to manage his fortune. Was this what he was trying to tell him?

"Be careful with Goblins," Merlin said as he read his thoughts. "They are far more civilized than in my time, but no less dangerous."

"When you met with their king, you observed he gave the outward impression of hoarding gold, but that was only an image he wanted to project. I believe your instincts were correct."

"The Goblins are no longer interested in hoarding gold, but they want something. They always do, and they think you can help them get it."

"What do they want?" Harry asked as he went over his meeting with Gringott in his mind, trying to find some clue.

"I don't know," Merlin admitted. "They have always been mischievous and clever creatures, but considering the gifts they gave you, it's only a matter of time before they arrange for you to meet with them again."

"We have strayed off topic. You need to focus on building your reputation and adding to your list of achievements so that if anyone challenges your emancipation, you will have a defense."

"Dumbledore knows where I am now," Harry said. "If I don't meet with him, he'll just come here."

"You're not prepared for a meeting with him, at least not yet," Merlin replied. "This place is no longer safe, and you need to leave before he gets here."

Harry quickly gathered up his belongings and put them in his trunk, taking one last look at his home for the last few days before leaving.

On his way out, he slipped the galleons he owed to Tom into his palm, before quickly leaving for the muggle world.

Cornelius Fudge walked into his home after a tiring, but productive day at the Ministry. He walked up the stairs to Isabel's room and sat in the chair by her bedside.

'She looks so peaceful,' Cornelius observed as he looked at his wife. Some days he could even convince himself that she was just asleep, and that she would wake up in the morning like nothing had happened.

But those moments were fleeting, and every healer that he had brought to see her had said the same thing. She was in a coma, and unlikely to ever recover.

"I'm getting closer, Isabel," Cornelius smiled at her as he took her hand in his. "I finally got Potter to admit what he did."

"I even found a reporter that is going to write an article about it. He won't be able to hide behind the reputation of the girl-who-lived, or his family name for much longer."

"I had to use his son a bit to get to him, though," Cornelius admitted, feeling guilty. "It was the only way. Dumbledore blocked every attempt I've made to confront him through the normal channels."

"His boy, Harry," Cornelius sighed. "He's a good kid. That's the only thing I feel bad about. I could tell right away he's nothing like the rest of them."

"The way he acted, I think Potter knocked him around growing up," Cornelius said as he remembered his own upbringing.

"I'll do what I can to keep him out of it," he promised, as he reached out, taking his wife's hand in his.

Cornelius was so lost in thought he didn't see the beetle crawling on the ceiling above him and making its way to the window, fitting through a crack.

Harry stood outside, waiting for a cab. He needed to put as much distance as he could between himself and the Leaky Cauldron. But where could he go now? The campgrounds again?

"No," Merlin denied. "We still have one more potion we need to brew, and a forest is not a clean enough environment for that."

"Then where?" Harry thought.

"Perhaps an abandoned building?" Merlin suggested. "At least until I can teach you a passable glamor charm to make you look older."

"What about Ben?" Harry thought. "They're letting him out of the hospital soon. He'll need some help until he can get back on his feet, anyway."

"Very well," Merlin agreed. "He at least knows part of the situation."

Harry quickly waved down the cab coming down the road and quickly got inside. "I need to get to the Royal London Hospital, please."

"Right away, kid," the cabby said as he drove down the road.

A short cab ride later, Harry walked into Ben's hospital room.

"Hello Harry," Ben smiled. "This is a pleasant surprise."

"Hi Ben, how are you feeling?" Harry asked.

"A lot better thanks to you," Ben replied. "The doctor told me I can check out tonight if I'm feeling up to it."

"Where are you going to go next?" Harry asked.

"Well," Ben sighed. "I've had to cancel the rest of my vacation. The money I saved up for the rest of my vacation went to medical bills. I'm going to rest for a couple more days in London, then head back to the States."

"Was it that expensive?" Harry asked, in concern. "I can pay-"

"Stop right there, Harry," Ben interrupted. "You did more than enough for me. Heck, as far as I'm concerned, you performed a miracle. I can't take your money, especially after everything you did for me already."

"Honestly, I don't mind," Harry insisted.

"Harry, this is a lot of money, and you need to be careful how you spend it," Ben insisted.

"I will," Harry promised. "But this would be a big help for me, too."

"What do you mean?" Ben asked. "Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"I think so," Harry replied. "The headmaster of the school I'm supposed to attend this fall sent me a letter… He shouldn't have been able to find me, but somehow, he did. And the letter had a charm on it to make me trust him."

"Those kinds of things exist?" Ben asked in surprise. "Aren't there laws preventing people from using them?"

"There are for some of them," Harry agreed. "The charm he used isn't outright mind control. It's more like a suggestion."

"Even then, it doesn't seem right." Ben shook his head. "I assume that's the reason you left?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "In the magical world, I'm emancipated, but not in the muggle world. If I try to stay in a hotel, they won't rent to me."

"So, you'll need a place to stay until September 1st, then?" Ben asked.

"Yes," Harry nodded. "I'll pay for the hotel for the rest of the month."

Ben looked at Harry. In a lot of ways, he reminded him of his own nephew. A good kid that got dealt a bad hand, but still tried to do the right thing.

"Alright Harry," Ben agreed. "What are your plans until the start of the month?"

"There's actually a lot I have to tell you," Harry answered. "I can speak with Merlin now, or at least his memories. He showed me how to create some nutritional potions and was going to train me."

"Do you think you can trust him now?" Ben asked.

"I believe it when he says something is coming, and that being prepared for it is better than not being prepared for it," Harry replied.

Chapter Text

Ben and Harry were lucky enough to find a house for rent in the countryside. The hope was the rural location would make it much more difficult for Dumbledore to find him.

Between Harry's conversations with Merlin and Ben, he knew he had to build up his physical strength and his cardio before he could even think about expanding into his magical training, so over the last three days, he worked on physical training. The pace he had set for himself was grueling, to say the least, training from sunup to sunset.

He started every morning with a long run, followed by an afternoon of body weight training, hand to hand combat, and a running sprints in the evenings.

It was only possible to maintain the pace because of Merlin's nutritional potions. They not only made sure he was well rested, but they repaired his sore and strained muscles by morning.

Harry was breathing hard, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath after running sprints for the last half hour.

"Getting better Harry," Ben complement from his seat on the bench.

"That's easy for you to say," Harry groused as he walked back over to him.

"You're the one that said you needed to get in shape," Ben laughed. "And there's no better way to do that than the Army Basic Training Program."

Harry sighed. He knew he couldn't argue with the results, however much he wanted to. He had achieved a lot over the last few days.

When he first started, he could only run full out for less than five minutes before he was out of breath, but now he could last for almost 10.

The body weight training he did had also improved. He was already doing more pushups, pullups, and sit-ups than before. Ben had warned him against using any weights because he was still growing and it would cause more harm than good at this point.

He still had a long way to go, especially after Merlin's warning, but now he felt he had made at least some progress.

"Seriously Harry," Ben complimented. "You're doing good. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks Ben," Harry replied gratefully.

Merlin told him he needed to build himself up physically before they could work on the mental and magical aspects of his training, but wasn't able to give him very much to go on. Most of the physical training Merlin told him about would have looked strange today. Weighted sword training, horseback riding, and sparring.

This was where Ben's training really came to the forefront. Even Merlin had grudgingly admitted that Ben's methods produced better and faster results than his own would have.

If he could maintain his current pace, he could move onto combat training, followed by magical training shortly afterwards.

Albus drummed his finger on his desk impatiently. He had expected to see Harry Potter in his office shortly after he sent the letter, but now, days later, he still had not arrived.

Albus Dumbledore was not accustomed to being made to wait. If anything, it was others the other way around. It annoyed him greatly when people wasted his time.

'Perhaps Severus was right,' Albus mused. 'The apple sometimes does not fall far from the tree.'

He had dedicated far too much time to finding this wayward Potter already. It was time to take care of this directly.

Albus went to the fireplace and dropped in a pinch of floo powder. "The Leaky Cauldron."

As Albus looked around, he could already see the evening crowd had arrived. After a few moments of searching, he found Tom talking to one of his patrons.

"Hello Tom," Albus said as he walked up to the man. His grandfatherly persona on full display.

"Hello Professor," Tom said, turning to face him. He knew with how quickly Harry had taken off, he would get a visit from the Headmaster soon afterwards.

"I sent a letter to one of your patrons, Harry Potter," Albus explained. "What room is he staying in? There are some things I would like to discuss with him."

Tom thought about lying to the Headmaster, but dismissed it quickly. The man had a knack for knowing when he was being lied to. "He's gone."

"What?" Albus asked in surprise. "When did he leave?"

"A few hours ago, he paid for his room and left," Tom explained.

"I seem to recall asking you if Harry Potter was staying here, and you said he wasn't. I'm disappointed that you felt you couldn't trust me." Albus replied.

"Look Professor, I got no excuses for ya," Tom admitted. "The kid didn't want anyone to know where he was, and I like him, so I didn't say anything."

"I see," Dumbledore replied, projecting a look of sadness and disappointment on his face. He turned to leave, returning to Hogwarts, plans already in mind on how to deal with the owner of the Leaky Cauldron.

In his office, he threw a pinch of floo powder into his fireplace. Albus understood Harry did not want to be found. The only solution left would require more force than he liked to use.

"Hello Allister, I have a job for you," Albus said.

"I'm listening," Allister 'Mad Eye' Moody replied.

"I need you to find Harry Potter. He has proved less than interested in having a much needed discussion with me," Albus replied.

"The kid that solved Merlin's cypher?" Mad Eye asked. "He's not usually the type I go after. Sounds like something that's more Dung's speed."

"No, the boy has proved to be more resourceful than I expected," Albus answered. "While I have faith in Mundungus's abilities, I need him found sooner rather than later."

"Think he's going to pull a runner, eh? What kind of condition does he need to be in when I find him?" Mad Eye asked.

"As long as madam Pomfrey can heal him, it doesn't matter," Albus replied.

"Where was he last seen?" Mad Eye asked.

"He has been staying in the Leaky Cauldron for the last few days, but he is now hiding out in the muggle world."

"That'll make things more difficult," Mad eye conceded. "I'll need to search his room."

"Then I will leave this in your capable hands," Albus replied as he cut the connection.

On top of everything else he was dealing with, he now had Tom's behavior to add to the list. If it was anyone else, any other business, the solution would have been obvious.

Arrange for a 'surprise' inspection and multiple fines that would put them out of business. But the Leaky Cauldron provided too valuable a resource to just get rid of.

His various less than savory contacts used it for information gathering and a neutral meeting place to air out grievances and come to an agreement.

It would have to stay in operation, perhaps under new ownership. It wouldn't take much for the pub's rent to be increased enough that it would force Tom to sell. A new owner that understood how things worked would be useful.

Rita looked through the folder Fudge had given her for the third time now. The recording itself got her attention at first.

It clearly showed a confrontation between Cornelius Fudge and James Potter. There were only clips, not the full conversation, likely because Fudge wanted to keep some aspects of the confrontation out of the story, but it confirmed a few things.

James Potter admitted to using his influence to manipulate the Aurors into attacking Fudge. At best, to turn the election by portraying Fudge as a criminal or, at worst, an outright murder attempt.

She had seen the results for herself when she snuck into the Minister's home, Isabel Fudge comatose.

There was also the accusation by Fudge of Albus Dumbledore using his influence to cover everything up. The proof for that would be much harder to find, but went a long way to explaining why Potter had never been so much as questioned.

The most pressing concern for her was finding out that he could silence the Daily Prophet in that way. Has it happened before? How did Dumbledore have that kind of pull?

Her meeting with Cuffe hadn't provided her with very any answers, either. Cuffe said they ordered him not to cover the story, and it was on behalf of a major shareholder, but not who they were, or even why.

So why did Fudge even ask her to write the article? It was not like the Prophet was ever going to publish it. They would kill the story, just like before.

"Oh, very clever," Rita thought aloud. It was obvious now, the reason Fudge allowed her to stay at the Museum, the reason he got her the exclusive interview with Harry.

He knew they would publish the article in every newspaper in the Wizarding World, well out of the reach of Albus Dumbledore. Because of that article, she now had the connections and the reputation to make sure the story saw the light of day, if not in Britain, then any other newspaper in Europe.

She wanted to be mad at how easily he had manipulated her, but in actuality, she found a grudging respect for him instead.

In the end, she didn't really have anything to really complain about. She had earned a lot of money and prestige because of that manipulation, and this new article he wanted her to write would be an excellent follow up, undoubtedly leading to even more stories as she dug into the facts.

She already had the basics of the story planned out. Rich pureblood uses his influence and connections to manipulate an election. The story basically wrote itself, and the evidence Fudge provided was just the icing on the cake. She had done far more with far less evidence in the past.

The real question was what newspaper to have it published in. It had to be close enough that the general British public would hear about it, but not so close that Dumbledore's influence could just crush the story outright.

The story would also have to become popular enough for the other wizarding countries to pick up the story as well.

'Perhaps a few hints that Potter would have needed help to cover everything up, and avoid prosecution,' Rita thought.

Moody searched the room Harry Potter had stayed in for the last few days after a reluctant Tom had given him the room number.

He could tell that Snape was right. There were definitely some potions that were brewed in the room, other than that there was very little to go on. Harry had left no possessions behind, not even trash.

He used his eye to track the magical residue of the potions left behind and it led to the muggle world, but that is where the trail ended.

He had clearly got onto some type of muggle transport nearby. It wasn't a bus, so likely a cab which could have gone anywhere in the city, effectively making it a dead end.

Moody turned on his heel and walked back into the Leaky Cauldron, heading to Diagon Alley. If Harry was using muggle currency, there was one more lead he could try.

He walked into Gringotts, making his way to the office of one of the few human employees of the bank, Mary Willowborough.

"Hello Mary," Moody said as he sat down in front of her desk.

"Oh no, not again Mad Eye," Mary said as she shot to her feet. "You need to leave right now! The last time you were here, you nearly got me fired!"

"It couldn't be helped, Mary. If it's any consolation, the information you gave me helped me find a very dangerous dark wizard," he replied.

"The Goblins asked me a lot of uncomfortable questions after that," Mary replied. "I just can't take that kind of risk again."

"But they didn't find out it was you, did they?" Moody asked. "They probably asked all the human employees."

"They did," Marry conceded. "But that doesn't change anything."

"There's a kid that's in danger," Moody lied. "If you don't help me, he could end up dead."

"... Alright," Mary finally conceded, "but this is the last time," she said as she looked around to make sure she wasn't being watched. "Who are you looking for?"

"I need to find Harry Potter," Moody revealed. "He's in the muggle world, so he's probably converting Galleons into muggle currency. I need to know what he's spending it on to find him."

"Harry Potter?!" Marry asked in shock. "You have got to be out of your mind! How am I supposed to look into the most famous boy in the wizarding world without someone noticing?"

"Keep your voice down," Moody hissed. "Like I said, he's in danger. Could you live with yourself if he ends up hurt or worse?"

"... Fine," Mary said with a long sigh. "You better hope I don't lose my job over this."

"Wait here," she said as she left her office and walked behind the counters, getting into the elevator.

She made her way to the top floor of the bank and into the chairman's office.

"What is Alastor Moody asking for now?" Gringott said as he looked up from his paperwork.

"He wants to know where Harry Potter is," Mary answered.

"Did he say why?" Gringott asked.

"He said his life was in danger," Mary answered.

"And you believe him?" Gringott asked with a grin.

"Of course not," Mary scoffed. "He's desperate, and likely out of other options."

"Hmm," Gringott thought. "Harry Potter hasn't committed any crimes, certainly nothing to warrant the attention of Alistar Moody… So he must be doing this on behalf of Albus Dumbledore, and I doubt he would want to cause any harm to Harry Potter, at least permanently."

"Very well," Gringott said as he jotted down an address on a piece of paper. "Please impress upon Alistar Moody that this is a 'big risk' for you, and upon Harry Potter's next visit, inform Alistar Moody that your supervisor and the security team questioned you extensively."

"Yes, sir," Mary asked as she took the paper. "Can I ask, sir, why all the subterfuge?"

"… When someone has to work to get the information they want, and there are consequences to those that help them, they are far more likely to trust the source of that information," Gringott explained.

"But what does the bank get out of this?" Mary asked. "Harry Potter is perhaps our most well-known client. Giving away his private information hardly seems like a good way to maintain that relationship."

"Alistar Moody already has a reputation for hunting down dark wizards. Would it be such a stretch to assume he used those same skills to find Harry Potter?" Gringott asked.

"That's true, sir," Mary conceded. "But it still doesn't explain what the bank gets out of this."

"The bank seeks to have a stronger relationship with Harry Potter," Gringott explained. "Sometimes that is born through trust, other times through crisis. You have kept Alistar Moody waiting long enough. Deliver the message," Gringott dismissed her.

Mary nodded as she made her way back downstairs to the lobby. She didn't quite understand what Gringott hoped to gain from all this, but he clearly had a long-term strategy for Mr. Potter.

"I nearly got caught twice getting this for you, Moody," Mary said as she handed him the piece of paper. "Don't make me regret it."

"Thank you," Moody smiled, taking the paper from her and walking out quickly.

Harry looked at the potion he had just finished brewing with Merlin. "So it's called the Oculus Potion?"

"Yes," Merlin replied. "This will not only fix your eyesight, but also enhance it. You'll be able to see further, have better night vision, it even enhances your hand eye coordination."

"Are there any side effects?" Harry asked.

"Aside from the taste and the headache, you'll be fine," Merlin assured.

Harry uncorked the vial and gulped down the foul tasting potion.

"That's not so bad," Harry said as he felt a slight pain in his temple, before immediately dubbing over and clutching his head in pain.

It wasn't nearly as bad as when he first found the lake, but it was still an agonizing ten minutes before he came back to his senses.

"Are you alright Harry?" Ben asked in concern as he stood over him. "I heard you screaming from the other room."

"I'm ok, I'm ok," Harry assured him as he stood up. "I drank the oculus potion," Harry explained. "It just hurt more than I expected."

"So you're done with these potions now, right?" Ben asked.

"That was the last one," Harry confirmed.

"Did it at least work?" Ben asked.

Harry took off his glasses and looked around the room. Everything was much clearer than it was before, even with his glasses on.

"Yes," Harry answered. "I can even see further and pick out more detail than before," he said as he looked out the window.

"Good. Are you up for taking a trip?" Ben asked.

"Sure, where to?" Harry asked.

"I talked to the family of the bus driver, the one that didn't make it. They asked me if I wanted to attend the funeral."

That was a sobering thought for Harry. The bus driver had died when the tunnel collapsed. "Would they even want me there?" Harry asked. "I didn't even know him."

"I'd like you to be there, Harry. There's something important I want to show you," Ben answered.

"Alright," Harry agreed.

Harry felt very somber as he walked into the church with Ben. He had never attended a funeral before, and he wasn't exactly sure about what to do with himself.

When they entered, a woman in her late 50s walked up to them. "Hello," she smiled. "You must be Ben Parker. I remember you from the news. Thank you for doing what you did."

"Are you Martha Jenkins?" Ben asked.

"I am," the woman said with a watery smile.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Ben said sincerely.

"Thank you," Martha replied. "And thank you for coming."

"And who might you be?" Marth asked as she looked down at Harry. "Were you one of the children from the bus?"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "I'm just a friend of Ben's."

"Well, any friend of Ben's is welcome here," Martha replied. "Please have a seat wherever you would like."

Harry and Ben moved to one of the back rows. The church was almost completely full, with well over 200 people in attendance.

A few minutes later, a young woman walked up to the pulpit. "Hello everyone, thank you for coming. For those of you that don't know me, my name is Sally Jenkins. Bill Jenkins was my father."

"My father married my mother almost thirty years ago, and I was born a couple of years after that. From as far back as I can remember, he was always there for me, with exactly the right thing to say. Whether I wanted to hear it or not. I grew up in a house full of love and support," Sally said, taking a moment to collect herself.

"Whenever the school needed a chaperone for a field trip, whenever they needed someone to coach the football team, or whenever someone just needed to talk, he was there."

"He always believed that helping his community wasn't just an obligation, but a duty, and he instilled those values in me as well," Sally smiled, remembering all the things he had taught her.

"When I look back at my life, I see how much of his guidance, his advice, his humility, and above all, his kindness shaped the person I am today."

"When I look at my own children, I see all the things he taught me, that I've passed down to them. So, in a way, I will always carry a piece of him with me. Even though he's not with us now, a part of him will always live on."

"Thank you," Sally said as her eyes grew watery.

An older man walked up, hugging Sally before walking up to the pulpit next. "Hello, my name is Frank Ortega. I'm Sally's godfather, and father-in-law. Bill was my best friend," Frank said, his voice cracking a little as he spoke.

"We met in grade school, liked the same cartoons and the same toys. We just became best friends and never looked back."

"It feels like we've always been in each other's lives, part of each other's families… It's difficult not having him here to help me get through this," Frank said, looking down, as tears streamed down his face.

"We were both so happy when Sally and my son Joe started dating," Frank said, wiping his eyes as he looked up at the crowd again. "When they got married, and when they had their three wonderful children."

"Bill was everything Sally said and more, but before you all get ready to award him sainthood, I have a story I want to tell you about him." He laughed lightly.

"When Bill and I were about 12 years old, there was this guy that alway parked on the wrong side of the street. You were only supposed to park on the right, not the left, otherwise there wasn't enough room to get out," he explained.

"We must have asked him a dozen times, and he always said he wouldn't park there next time. But sure enough, every night, there was his car," Frank shook his head.

"Now Bill hated that because it always made it really hard for Mrs. Smith to get to the grocery store, and one day after a snowstorm, he had enough."

"He came and got me. We took a pair of snow shovels and heaped as much snow as we could on top of his car before he had to go to work the next morning. By the time we were finished, there must have been six feet of snow covering the car," Frank laughed.

"The man finally came outside, took one look at his car, his jaw fell open, then he looked at Bill and asked him what happened."

"And what did Bill do? He looked him right in the eye and said it looks like you parked on the wrong side of the street," he said to the laughs of the people listening. "And God, as my witness, he never parked on the wrong side of the street again!"

"That was who Bill was. He didn't care who he had to stand up to. If he saw someone doing something wrong, he made sure they knew about it."

"I'm going to miss you, buddy," he said as he walked back down to his family.

There were a lot more people that came up and shared personal stories about Bill, and what he meant to them, and at the end Martha Jenkins spoke.

"Thank you, everyone, for sharing your stories about my husband. Knowing that he's touched so many of your lives, it helps more than you realize."

"I remember when we first got married, before Sally was born. We had just bought our first house. It was in such terrible shape, he called it a work in progress, and I called it about to fall down," she laughed. "But even then, Bill saw the potential in it."

"He didn't just see what it was, he saw what it could be, and he made it happen," she said as her eyes welled up with tears.

"He replaced all the broken floorboards, he fixed the plumbing, the roof, the walls, and before long, it was our home. It was an i-told-you-so he gleefully held over my head for our entire marriage."

"That was my husband. He never saw the world the way it was. He saw the world the way it was supposed to be. Bill was the father of my daughter, doting grandfather, and love of my life, and I will miss him every day of my life."

"I also want to thank Ben Parker," Martha said. "He was the one that got the children out of the bus when no one else could."

"That day could have been so much worse than it was, and we could have lost much more than we did. I know Bill is resting in peace now because of what you did, Ben. Please don't doubt yourself, or think about what you could have done differently. I know that my Bill would have wanted you to save the children first."

There were a few more speeches afterwards, all of Bill's friends and family sharing their personal stories, and fond moments of their friend. It was a beautiful service for a man that had lived his life to the fullest.

As they were leaving, Ben turned to Harry. "What did you think of the service, Harry?"

"It was… sad, but also happy, and somehow comforting," Harry replied. "I didn't think I would feel this was about someone I never met."

"What you're feeling right now is empathy, Harry. You don't need to know someone to understand the hole that's left in their lives when someone they love is gone," Ben explained.

"I saw you save him on the news, but I didn't really think about him much until now. Is that wrong?" Harry asked.

"Not wrong, just human," Ben replied. "We protect ourselves, sometimes, without even knowing we're doing it."

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because we don't want to feel the pain of loss," Ben answered simply. "And it's all too easy to set aside other people's pain and loss. That's why I wanted you to come with me, Harry," Ben explained. "You're going down a path now, and it will not be an easy one."

"You are going to be tempted to make decisions that are easy, or convenient, but those are not always the right decisions."

"That's why you need to remember people like Bill Jenkins. Always remember that there are real people your decisions can affect, and you have to use the power you have responsibly."

"How will I know when I'm making the wrong decisions?" Harry asked.

"When you stop questioning yourself and assume you're always right," Ben explained.

"It's a very slippery slope, compromising your beliefs even once for some nebulous good that could happen in the future."

Harry and Ben remained in a comfortable silence the rest of the way to the house.

Ben, thinking about the friends he had lost in the army and the people he had helped over the years.

Harry, thinking about his life before the Vault. How different the world was from what he thought it was. There were still so many terrible things, but now he also saw the good that counterbalanced it.

They were both so lost in thought as they walked up to the house that neither one noticed the man walking up to them.

"Harry Potter, you're going to have to come with me. Albus Dumbledore has been patient enough with you," the man ordered.

Harry looked up quickly at the man in the trench coat. The magical eye, a dead giveaway that it was a wizard. "I don't know who you are, but I'm not going anywhere with you, least of all to see Dumbledore."

"My name is Allister Moody, and that wasn't a request, kid," Moody said as he pulled out his wand.

Thank you very much for reading. A lot of big stuff came up in this chapter. Another major player in the wizarding world introduced. What do you think of Gringott?

How do you feel about the funeral? I had to re-write that scene three times to make sure it was the way I wanted it. For anyone that read the original version of this story it was referenced there as well but I really wanted to expand on it in this version and establish it as one of the defining moments of Harry's life.

As always thank you to my sponsors. I really appreciate your support.

Chapter Text

Harry looked at the wizard standing in front of with trepidation. He only knew the spells from the first year textbooks, and this Moody clearly had years of dueling experience under his belt.

"Ben, you have to run," Harry warns as pulled out his wand.

"Be reasonable kid, I don't want to hurt you," Moody warned, keeping his wand at his side.

"Look… Moody," Ben interrupted. "Harry doesn't want to go with you, and you have no right to force him. The best thing you can do right now is walk away."

With almost contemptuous ease, Moody shot his wand forward. "Stupify."

"BEN!" Harry shouted in alarm as his friend crumpled to the ground like his strings were cut.

"Look kid, your friend is go-" Moody said, before Harry cut him off.

"Flipendo! Flipendo! Flipendo!" Harry cast one after the other before Moody finished speaking, hoping the knock back jinx would buy him some time.

The first one clipped Moody on the left shoulder, knocking him back. The second sailed past his right shoulder, missing by a few inches, but the third caught Moody in the stomach, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Moody groaned as he got to his feet. He wasn't expecting the kid to be that fast and was annoyed with himself for not taking the fight seriously.

"You don't want to do this, kid," Moody warned as he pointed his wand at Harry, getting serious.

Without giving Harry a chance to respond, he sent a silent stupify at Harry.

Harry's eyes widened as he saw the jet of red light coming towards him, and quickly dived out of the way, avoiding the spell by mere inches.

"Fumos!" Harry shouted, pouring in more power to create a thick cloud of smoke around both of them, followed by a fire spell. "Incendio!"

The thick smoke completely filled Moody's visions, making it impossible for him to see anything. He cursed as his magical eye was of no help, either. Its primary function was to detect magic, and because the smoke was magical, it was all he could see with it.

It surprised him for a second time when the incendio spell hit his robes.

"Aguamenti," Moody muttered, quickly dousing the fire as he took a few steps to the right, in case Harry tried to fire off any more spells.

'Impressive spell casting and situational awareness,' Moody thought before casting stupify at Harry's last position. When he didn't hear anything, he knew Harry must have avoided the spell.

"Ventus," Moody said, using a gust of air to blow away the smoke.

Harry looked at Moody warily as the smoke started to clear. There wasn't any decent cover or anywhere to hide. On top of that, he was at a clear disadvantage when it came to his spell repertoire.

'What am I supposed to do?' Harry thought, knowing he was outclassed.

"This Moody, he's obviously well trained," Merlin added.

'Are there any spells I can try?' Harry thought.

"There are many spells, but you have cast none of them before, so it won't do you any good in battle. Stick to the ones you know," Merlin advised.

'That's it?' Harry thought, hoping that Merlin would have had at least a strategy he could use.

"He's obviously toying with you," Merlin explained. "If he took this seriously from the start, you would have already lost."

"Diffindo! Diffindo" Harry cast as the smoke cleared enough for him to see Moody again.

The older wizard was faster than Harry expected. "Protego," he said, raising a shield before the severing charms could land and harmlessly deflecting them away.

"You've impressed me, kid," Moody said from behind the shield. "But this is where this little game ends. Drop your wand before things get serious."

Harry racked his brain, trying to figure out what to do. He had no idea what Dumbledore had planned for him, but he knew he wanted no part of it.

"He's using a standard shield spell," Merlin advised. "It deflects spells and acts as a physical barrier, but only where his wand is pointing."

An idea quickly formed in Harry's mind. Obviously, he couldn't match Moody spell for spell, so he had to change things up. "Lumos Solem!" He shouted, creating a blinding flash of light that went out in all directions.

Moody had a split second to curse himself for holding the shield too long. He didn't have time to cast a counter or block it. He closed his eyes tightly, knowing there was little else he could do.

Moody groaned as he waited for his vision to clear, listening closely for Harry's next spell. He had fought blind before. It was tricky, but as long as he could hear the spell and where it was coming from, he could hold out.

Harry dashed forward, falling back on Ben's instructions for hand to hand fighting, doing his best to make as little noise as possible.

He approached Moody from his unprotected left side. Staying on the opposite side of Moody's magical eye, assuming it would recover faster than his normal one.

With the running start, he hammered a front kick into Moody's side, sending him sprawling to the floor.

Moody's mechanical eye had recovered just a second too late, as he felt a sharp pain in his side. He couldn't believe it. The kid had actually kicked him. It surprised him so much that he lost concentration and dropped his shield spell.

After Moody fell, Harry looked around for something. Anything he could use as a weapon. Finally spotting something he could use, he scooped up a large rock as Moody started to get back up.

Moody got to his knees quickly, only for a rock to smash into his magical eye, cracking it, and knocking him back down again. His vision swam as his magical eye grew hazy before shutting down entirely.

Getting back up for a second time and using his longer reach to his advantage, Moody sent a left cross at Harry, catching him on the cheek and sending him sprawling to the floor.

"Incarcerous!" Moody shouted at the dazed boy, tying his arms with magical rope.

"I'm impressed, kid. I really am," Moody said as he caught his breath. "Fully trained wizards put up less of a fight, but this is over."

Moody reached down to pick up Harry's wand, only for Harry to surge back up to his feet, head butting him just under the chin and sending him sprawling to the ground, hard.

Moody groaned in pain as he rolled onto his side. Maybe he was getting too old for this. 'How the heck does a kid know how to fight like that?' He wondered.

Taking no more chances, he cast a 'stupify' at the boy before he could pull off any more of his tricks.

Moody spent a good few minutes catching his breath and getting himself back in order before putting a hand on Harry's shoulder and side long apparating them to a nearby floo and from there to the Headmaster's office.

Albus was sitting in his office, taking care of some last-minute paperwork before the start of term, when his fireplace roared to life.

"I found the kid," Moody grunted. "We're coming through now."

Albus's jaw dropped open as he got a good look at Alistar and Harry. Moody's magical eye was smashed, and there was already a bruise forming on his face. He was clearly favoring his side as he levitated Harry in behind him.

Harry looked no better, a large bruise on his cheek, and a large bump on his head.

"What happened?" He demanded.

"The kid happened," Moody answered. "Now are you going to tell me what's really going on?" He demanded. "Because nobody puts up a fight like that just to get out of a meeting."

Albus stared at the two of them, not even sure what to say. There were very few times he had seen Alistar come back in this condition, and they all happened during the war.

"His family asked that I speak with him, and encourage him to go home," Albus replied. "Now tell me how you both ended up in this condition."

"Yeah… there's definitely more to that story," Moody snorted. "The boy put up a hell of a fight. I wish I had a hundred just like him during the war," Alistar chuckled.

"How could he have caused that much damage?" Dumbledore wondered. "He doesn't even have any formal education."

"You're right about that," Alistar agreed. "The spells he used were all out of the first year textbooks. His casting speed was about fourth year, and accuracy… maybe third year."

"That still shouldn't have been enough for you to even break a sweat," Albus pointed out.

"I was overconfident, and I let my guard down," Moody added. "If the kid had been an adult wizard under polyjuice, I would have had it."

"The bruises, and your eye?" Albus asked.

"That was when I let my guard down," Moody explained. "I was standing behind a protego, telling the kid it was over. He cast a lumos solem, and because I was holding the protego I couldn't stop him."

"It blinded me for a few seconds, just long enough for him to run around my shield and kick me in the side. He might have actually cracked a rib with that one," Alistar smiled.

"You sound pleased," Albus observed.

"That's cause I am. The kid's got guts."

"What happened next?" Albus asked.

"He got my eye with a rock, managed to break it. Pretty good strategic thinking, too. Took out my depth perception and put me on the back foot."

"I was able to clip his head. That put him on the ground, and then I got him with the Incarcerous."

"That's when you brought him here?" Albus asked.

"Nah, the kid still had one more trick up his sleeve," Moody said as he placed Harry's wand on Albus's desk. "When I reached down to pick that up, he knocked me down again. That's when I put him down with the stupefy."

Albus sat back in his chair, thinking about his next steps. When he asked Alistar to bring Harry Potter to him, things had escalated far beyond what he expected. He would have to-reevaluate his opinion of the boy.

"If you would, Alistar, please put him on the chair," Albus said as he took Harry's wand and examined it.

'Work of art is right,' Albus thought as he remembered what Garrick had told him.

He waved the wand experimentally, expecting some red sparks to fly out, but was surprised when nothing happened. "Curious," he said as he examined the wand further.

He tried to push his magic into the wand, but he felt a pressure resisting it. "I have never known a wand to reject a caster."

"Envenerate," Albus said as he pulled out his own wand.

Harry woke with a groan, feeling a sharp pain in his cheek and the back of his head.

"I'll be on my way then, Albus," Alistair said as he walked back to the fireplace.

"Of course," Albus agreed.

"That was a good fight, kid," Moody said, as he gave a nod of respect to Harry. "I'm not ashamed to admit you got closer than most… Enjoy it, cause it won't happen a second time. I won't make the mistake of underestimating you again," He said as he left through the floo.

"Hello Mr. Potter," Albus said as he looked at him.

"Dumbledore," Harry muttered as he looked at him, still wrapped up in the ropes.

"I apologize for bringing you here under these conditions, but it was imperative I speak with you," Albus said.

"Is this how you have all your meetings?" Harry snarked.

"I must apologize for that," Albus replied. "It was not my intention to cause you any harm."

"Then why don't you release me, and I can be on my way," Harry replied.

"I would be happy to," Albus replied, as he released Harry from his bindings. "And I must apologize for Alastor. He was never supposed to cause you any harm."

It surprised Harry when Dumbledore actually released him, but he pressed forward anyway. "And my wand?" he asked, holding out his hand.

"Ah yes," Albus said, holding up the wand. "It is quite a unique wand. Where might I ask? Did you find it?"

Harry could immediately tell what Dumbledore was getting at. Somehow he had figured out his wand came from the vault, probably before he had him brought here.

"Ollivander," Harry muttered. It was the only thing that made sense. He was the only one that got a good look at his wand.

"What was that, my boy?" Albus asked.

"Ollivander," Harry repeated. "He's the one that told you about my wand," Harry accused.

"Yes," Albus confirmed. "It takes something quite special for a wand maker of his renown to take notice. So I must insist. Tell me where you got this wand."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the headmaster. Clearly, the wand maker was not the only informant he had. "I don't think that's any of your business. Now give me back my wand."

"You pilfered this wand from Merlin's Vault," Albus accused, laying his cards on the table. "I wonder how the Ministry would feel about the theft of a magical artifact such as this?"

Harry started to get worried. He wasn't exactly sure what the Ministry would do if they found out about the wand. Taking it from him would be bad enough, but now, because he was emancipated, how far would they go?

"Of course, it need not go that far," Albus revealed. "We can sweep all of this under the rug, so to speak, and the Ministry need not know about any of this. So long as you're willing to make a few minor concessions, of course."

"And what are these 'minor' concessions?" Harry demanded.

"To start with, you will return home. Your family has missed you dearly," Albus smiled.

"Really? I find that hard to believe," Harry denied.

"Oh yes, your father has been calling me on a daily basis, asking about your whereabouts," Albus explained, a glint in his eyes.

Harry stared back, saying nothing, both of them clearly understanding the subtext of what the other was saying.

"It was quite the spectacle when you solved Merlin's Cypher. Incredible really. Did you know that over the years, I have tried four separate times to solve it myself?" Albus asked.

"No, I didn't," Harry replied flatly.

"Yes, yes. It was quite the achievement, so great, in fact, that it would be very easy for people to believe that you didn't solve it on your own… Perhaps you had some help from your sister, or she said something in passing that gave you the idea in the first place?" Albus suggested.

Harry openly glared at the man now, "so you want to take nothing less than everything from me?"

"Oh Harry my boy, you exaggerate," Albus smiled. "I'm just looking out for your best interests. Now that you're legally an adult, it isn't simply a case of 'boys will be boys.' You could very well end up in Azkaban for this," he said, twisting the knife.

"Harry, do exactly as I tell you," Merlin spoke into his head. "Will your wand into your hand. It will always return when its owner calls, then repeat what I tell you."

Having no other options, Harry did as Merlin asked, raising his hand and concentrating on the wand returning.

The wand shot out of Albus's hand, slapping into Harry's open palm, surprising both of them.

"I think I have indulged this fantasy of yours long enough," Harry repeated Merlin's words. "This is my wand, no one else's."

"You do not have a shred of proof on where I got my wand, and the story you concocted is just that, a story. You will need far more than that for me to even see the inside of a courtroom, far less convicted of anything."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore allowed, surprised by how astute Harry was. "But a story is sometimes far more powerful than actual proof. The right article in a newspaper, words whispered into the right ears. That's all it takes for the public to turn against you, and when that happens, you may not like your chances."

"I like my chances just fine," Harry bluffed. "After all, if any of what you say comes to pass, how long will it take before Gloria or the Potter family's reputation gets dragged down with me?"

"How long before a reporter digs into Gloria's past? What do you think will happen if they uncover all those stories about her you buried? What will happen to the reputation of your girl-who-lived after that?" Harry asked.

The smile dropped off Albus's face immediately. If the world at large found out about Gloria's true nature, it would be a disaster, both in Britain and internationally.

"… Then there is little choice in the matter," Albus said as he stood up, drawing his wand.

Immediately Harry felt alarm bells going off in his head. There was no way he could survive a duel with Dumbledore.

"You won't remember any of this, Harry, but you really should have taken my offer. It would have been much easier for y-"

"RUN!" Merlin screamed into his head.

"Fumos!" Harry shouted before Dumbledore could finish, covering the office in thick smoke.

"Through the door behind you," Merlin said.

Harry quickly ducked under the chair, staying low to the ground as he made a mad dash to the door. He pulled it open. The smoke billowed out the door as he started running down the stairs as fast as he could.

He knew he had a few seconds at most for the Headmaster to catch up.

'How do I get out of here?' Harry thought.

"Duck!" Merlin shouted.

Harry didn't think, he just dropped as a jet of red light passed an inch above his head as he made it into the hallway.

Harry frantically looked around, trying to find a place to hide before running for the stairs in desperation. He could hear the footfalls of the headmaster behind him, getting closer.

"To the right," Merlin shouted.

Harry jumped to the side, just missing the spell by inches as he made it to the stairs and ran down to the floor below.

The only advantage he had over Dumbledore was his youth, and the more distance he could put between himself and the older wizard, the better.

Harry glanced over his shoulder to see Dumbledore at the top of the stairs, looking down at him.

Albus observed Harry critically. Alistar had not been exaggerating about him. His spell repertoire was small, but he was fast and could think quickly.

There was no point in throwing another spell from here. Harry had already proven himself adept at dodging them. The greater distance would only make it easier for him.

"Piertotum Locomotor," Albus cast as he pointed his wand at the stone gargoyle, directing it to restrain Harry.

Harry's eyes widened as the gargoyle came to life and chased him down the stairs.

'What do I do?' Harry thought.

"Keep running," Merlin answered.

Harry knew he didn't have a spell to deal with the gargoyle. His only hope was to outrun it, but it was much faster than the Headmaster.

Turning on his heel, Harry ran down the hallway, the gargoyle getting closer with every step.

"It's fast," Merlin observed, "but only in a straight line… It has no grip on the stone floor. Turn left now!"

Harry turned sharply, going down the hallway, not even looking as he heard the loud crash behind him.

"Don't stop!" Merlin warned.

It was only a few seconds later that he heard the thud of the gargoyle behind him as it chased him again, quickly making up the ground that it lost.

'I don't know how much longer I can keep going,' Harry thought as his lungs started to burn.

Harry took another turn, a right this time, and heard the gargoyle crash into the wall behind him again.

That was where Harry's luck ran out. The last turn had taken him to a dead end. He turned around, but the gargoyle was already back on its feet and growling menacingly at him, blocking his way.

"Flipendo!" Harry shouted, trying to knock back the gargoyle, but it barely moved an inch. "Diffindo," Harry tried, with the same result, not even leaving a scratch on the stone.

"An excellent attempt, my boy," Albus said as he arrived behind the gargoyle. "But you have to know, this was the only way it was going to end."

"Hogwarts is the most secure building in all of Britain. The security anti-apparition wards are second to none and extend to the Hogwarts grounds as well. There is no escape."

"Anti-apparition," Harry repeated as his eyes widened. Dumbledore said anti-apparition, but nothing about portkeys.

Harry fished out the card the Goblins gave him from his pocket, taking the slim chance he had been offered. "Gringott," Harry said, disappeared with a small pop.

Albus's jaw dropped at the unexpected move from Harry. How had he got his hands on a goblin made portkey?

Chasing after him inside Gringotts was a nonstarter. The goblins would never allow it for one, and just the hint of it would mean no end of trouble from Fudge.

Harry dropped to his knees, gasping for breath as the sweat rolled down his face. He had no idea if the portkey would even work. His escape came down to pure luck.

Moody had come out of nowhere, catching him completely off guard, and the fight he had with Dumbledore, if you could even call it that, was laughably one sided.

He only escaped because Dumbledore made the same mistake as Moody, and shear dumb luck on his side.

"Are you alright Harry Potter?" a goblin said as he walked up to him.

"We're going to need to find you an account manager and a solicitor," Merlin said. "Talk to the Chairman."

"Griphook?" Harry asked, remembering the goblin from his first visit. "I'm alright, if possible, I would like to speak with the chairman."

"Right this way, Harry Potter," the Griphook said as he led him past the waiting customers and to the elevator.

Harry entered the Chairman's office to find Gringott already waiting for him.

"Hello Harry Potter," Gringott greeted him. "How can Gringotts bank help you today?"

"To start with, I was hoping to use a post owl, if you can spare one," Harry asked politely.

"Certainly," Gringott said as he opened the window and an owl flew in.

Harry took a piece of parchment and a pen from the goblin's desk, quickly jotting down a note for Ben.

Hello Ben,

It's Harry. I don't know how much you saw from the fight, but someone working for Dumbledore captured me.

I escaped, barely. But the house is no longer safe to go back to. You have to leave before they come back looking for me.

I've already paid for an open-ended ticket for you. It's waiting at the airport under your name.

I'm sorry about this Ben, I never should have gotten you involved in this.

Harry

Harry handed the letter to the waiting owl and watched it fly off into the night.

"The last time we spoke, you said that there were people that could help me manage my money, solicitors, public relations people?" Harry asked. "How do I get in contact with them?"

"I have a list here for you," Gringott replied, as he handed him a piece of parchment.

Harry glanced at the list of seven names, wondering where to start.

"All of them are bound by oath to keep your secrets and advise you to the best of their ability," Gringott added. "The only difference between them is what they specialize in."

"I need someone that will handle investments, public relations, charity work, and legal issues," Harry said as he took a moment to consult with Merlin.

"Then there's only one name on the list that you'll be interested in, Theodore Tonks," Gringott advised.

"I need to see him now," Harry said.

"It's a little late for that," Gringott said as he pointed out the window, "but I can arrange for you to have a meeting with him first thing in the morning."

"Thank you," Harry said.

"Of course," Gringott replied. "Will there be anything else Gringotts can assist you with?"

"Someone was able to find where I was staying for the summer. Is there a place I can go that I won't be found again?" Harry asked.

"Careful Harry," Merlin warned. "The goblins of today are not that different from my day. It will do you no good to find yourself in their debt."

'I don't have much of a choice,' Harry thought back. 'If Dumbledore found me once, he can do it again.'

"If you would like, you may stay as a guest of Gringotts. There's no safer place in Britain," Gringott replied.

"Thank you," Harry said. "How much will my stay cost?"

"As you are a new client, we will waive the fee for the duration of your stay, but it is normally 100 galleons per night," Gringott replied as he called for someone to show Harry to his room.

A moment later Griphook returned with a human woman.

"Griphook will show you to your suite," Gringott said. "If that will be all Harry Potter, I have another meeting I am late for."

Mary remained silent until the door closed behind her. "You knew he would come back."

"It was only a matter of time," Gringott agreed. "And just as I expected, Harry Potter is not not only grateful for the bank's assistance, he is also using our other services."

"When he came in, it looked like he had been put through the ringer," Mary observed. "How did you know he would get away, sir?"

"That is what the portkey was for," Gringott explained. "If he was smart enough to solve Merlin's cypher, then he would be smart enough to use it when he needed it."

Chapter Text

Harry walked into his room at the bank, followed by Griphook. As he looked around, he could see the obvious difference between his room at the Leaky Cauldron and what Gringott’s offered.

It was less of a hotel room and more of a flat. As he looked around, there was a kitchen, multiple bedrooms, living room, dining room, even a balcony, all of it tastefully decorated.

“Enjoy your stay, Harry Potter,” Griphook said as closed the door behind him.

Harry walked out onto the balcony, sitting down in an armchair and leaning his head back as he thought about everything that happened.

Somehow Moody had found him, and all the training he did over the last few days hadn’t helped as much as he hoped it would. He could only last as long as he did because of luck on his part and Moody underestimating him. 

‘It won’t happen a second time,’ Harry vowed to himself. It was clear now, the number of spells he learned wasn’t anywhere near enough to stand against a fully trained Wizard. ‘Moody easily countered every single one of them.’

Then there was the even larger problem of Dumbledore. He could practically feel the power pouring off the old wizard. There was absolutely no chance of him surviving a direct fight with him. 

When he went back to Hogwarts, it would be as a student. This would naturally give the advantage to Dumbledore. How was he supposed to stop him from following through on erasing his memories? And then there was the even larger issue of his wand.

“Your issue is not the memory spells,” Merlin interrupted. “They won’t work on you, anyway. Your mind will easily counteract them. The issues with your wand are the main concern.” 

“What am I supposed to do about that?” Harry asked.

“That is what the solicitor is for,” Merlin replied. “He will find a way to keep this headmaster in check.”

“I hope so,” Harry agreed. “What did you think of Dumbledore?” Harry asked.

“He is certainly powerful magically,” Merlin acknowledged. “Not nearly as much as some I have faced, but it seems like he holds some powerful positions in government as well. That is where his true power lies. You have a lot of work to do.”

An owl bearing a letter interrupted their conversation. It cocked its leg out to Harry and when he removed it, the owl flew off again. Harry unfurled the letter. It was from Ben.

Harry,

I’m glad you’re ok. When I woke up, both you and that man were gone. The last thing I remember was a flash of red light, then nothing.

These people you’re hiding from are a lot more dangerous than I thought, and you need to be very careful. 

They wouldn’t have attacked us and kidnapped you if they weren’t completely sure that they would get away with it. 

My address is 337 Elm Street East, New York, NY

I think you should come stay with me and May.

Be careful, and keep in touch,

Ben

Harry sighed as he looked at the letter. It wasn’t a bad idea. It would actually solve a lot of his problems. Dumbledore could never find him there.

“Don’t count on it,” Merlin denied. “He’ll find you again if you run. It’s just a matter of time, and you’ll have a much better chance facing him here.”

“Why is that?” Harry asked. “It didn’t seem to do much good today.”

“You have resources here,” Merlin explained. “The Minister for Magic, the Goblins. You’ll soon have a solicitor, and your name carries for more weight here than anywhere else.”

“Dumbledore cares about his reputation, and his positions far more than he cares about you. If you make it too costly for him personally, he will have no choice but to step back.”

“I hope you’re right,” Harry replied. Facing two adult wizards on the same day really put into perspective how far out of his depth he was, and how much he would have to improve.

The next morning Harry sat in the living room, waiting for Ted Tonks to arrive anxiously. He desperately needed a way to deal with Dumbledore.

A few moments later there was a knock at the door, and a brown-haired man in his early forties walked in carrying a briefcase.

“Hello,” He said, shaking Harry’s hand. “I’m Theodore Tonks, but you can call me Ted.”

“Thanks for meeting me on such short notice, Ted,” Harry said as they sat down.

“Think nothing of it,” Ted smiled. “So I take it you’re looking for a solicitor? What kind of help do you need?”

“Before we start, I need to know. Will you be discussing this with anyone else?” Harry asked.

“Absolutely not,” Ted shook his head. “Even though you have not hired me as your solicitor, any discussions we have are privileged, and I’m bound by magic not to discuss it with anyone unless I have your express consent.”

“Yesterday, someone named Moody attacked me and a muggle friend of mine under the instruction of Albus Dumbeldore. He knocked out my friend, kidnapped me, then brought me to Hogwarts,” Harry said, laying out what happened. “The only reason I escaped was because of a portkey that the Chairman gave me.”

“What??” Ted asked, his jaw dropping. This was definitely not what he was expecting to hear. He usually dealt with rich purebloods trying to protect their reputations after making some ill-informed decisions after a night out. “You need to bring this to the attention of the Aurors.”

“... That’s why I wanted to speak with you,” Harry sighed as he placed his wand on the coffee table. “When I solved Merlin’s cypher, this wand appeared in my pocket. Dumbledore knows I got it from Merlin’s Vault. He doesn’t have any proof that I took it, but he threatened to accuse me publicly of stealing it.”

“... I see,” Ted replied, looking at the wand. It was certainly distinct. “I assume disposing of the wand is not an option?”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I can’t explain it, but I can’t destroy the wand. It’s mine,” he said, picking it up.

“Then I will have to do some research and figure out a strategy to deal with this,” Ted replied. “It will take me a few days, but please, don’t leave the bank in the meantime. It’s the safest place for you. No one will attack you here, unless they want to face down an army of goblins.”

“I will also put together a plan for you to grow your fortune and craft your public image. Was there anything else you needed?” Ted asked.

“No,” Harry shook his head, he didn’t really care much for the rest. His main focus was on how to deal with Dumbeldore, and whoever else was working for him.

“Good, don’t get worried. Stay calm. There’s a way out of this. It will just take some time to figure out,” Ted said. He knew that if he handled this right, he could secure the biggest client of his career, no more cleaning up after spoiled purebloods.

“Were you able to find the boy?” James asked as Albus entered through the fireplace.

“Yes, I spoke with him yesterday,” Albus said, careful not to reveal too much of what happened.

“Where is he?” Lily asked. “I thought you would bring him home.” 

“That is proving to be more difficult,” Albus said. “As you know, Harry is emancipated now, so there is nothing we can do to force him to return.”

“There must be something we can do, Albus,” Lily asked.

“I believe Harry removed an item from Merlin’s vault,” Albus added. “I think with some more time for him to understand the seriousness of his actions, he will see reason.”

“He’s had more than enough time to think,” James replied. “It’s clear that he’s not going to do the right thing on his own. I think it’s time to take the decision out of his hands.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” Albus asked, already knowing it was going to be a terrible idea. 

“We bring him home, by force. I think that after a few days with his family, he’ll realize that we have his best interests in mind,” James replied.

“James,” Albus began. “First off, there is nowhere near enough time before the start of Hogwarts to do what you suggest, and second, he has a goblin made portkey in his possession. He would only possess that if the Goblins took an interest in him. So unless you want them to come here knocking down your door, you will forget that idea in its entirety.”

James paled at the implication. Even he knew better than to get on the wrong side of the Goblins..

“Can you talk to him about the wand? I can’t imagine the Ministry will be happy that Harry has it,” Lilly suggested.

“That will be difficult to prove,” Albus replied, remembering Harry’s words. “The item he took was a wand. While we can claim he took it from the vault. He could easily claim that it was something he purchased with his new vault. The Ministry would not have enough evidence to act on it.”

“Then we can tell the press that it was really Glory that figured out the cypher and Harry ran off to the museum to get the credit before Glory,” Lily suggested. “If we involve the Wizengamot, we can at the very least take away Harry’s emancipation.”

“Those actions may be too rash,” Albus shook his head. “Harry knows about Glory’s less than favorable reputation with the international press. If we make accusations, he will make accusations of his own, and he will have a far easier time proving his claims than we will.”

“The best course of action is to wait, give Harry some time to come to the right decision,” Albus said. He knew the boy would arrive at Hogwarts soon, and with some time and a little planning, he could make up for their unfortunate first meeting.

“When is that supposed to be?” James asked.

“It’s not much longer until the start of the fall term,” Albus said. “When he is in Hogwarts and settles in, we can try to speak to him again.” 

“Now if you will excuse me, I have another appointment, but we will discuss it again soon,” Albus promised, as he left.

“We can talk to him at the train station,” Lily suggested. “If we can see him, I don’t think it will take very much to convince him.”

“Nothing has worked so far,” James groused. “What makes you think he’ll listen now?”

“Harry just wants a little attention,” Lily replied. “That’s what all this acting out is about. We just have to tell him we’re proud of him and give him a pat on the head and he’ll do what he’s told.”  

The next morning, Harry had his follow up meeting with Ted. 

“I’ve got some good news for you Harry,” Ted said as looked through a large stack of papers. “It took some work, but the wand won’t be a problem for you. I have a few informants inside the Ministry and the Department of Mysteries. They’ve informed me that while the door to the Vault is open, there is still a magical field protecting the contents of the vault, so if it comes down to it, they won’t be able to prove you removed anything.” 

“Added to that, I have the signed bill of sale for your wand from a reclusive wand maker in the Balkans that owes me a favor. Should Dumbledore move forward with these accusations, he won’t have a leg to stand on.”

“That’s a relief,” Harry replied. He knew it wasn’t exactly right to lie about it, but it was far better than doing what Dumbledore wanted.

Ted nodded, “and as for your public image, setting up a charity would be a good start.”

“What do you recommend?” Harry asked.

“Well, it can be anything really, but the best one will be something you care about.”

Harry sat back in his chair. ‘What do I care about?’ Harry thought.

Before all this started, it was just so simple. He cared about getting away from his family, just finding a place where they couldn’t ever find him.

Harry thought about Ben, helping him when no one else even looked twice at him. He thought about Bill, and his family, what he did with his life. Even Tom had gone out of his way to help him.

“I want to help people,” Harry said after a long pause. “Someone helped me when I really needed it. He asked me to pay it forward.”

“There’s certainly no shortage of people that need help,” Ted agreed. 

“The werewolf population, for example. It’s difficult for them to find and keep jobs. Most of them end up destitute or working menial jobs in the muggle world, since no businesses in the magical world will hire them.”

“The war also left behind a lot of orphans. There are a few orphanages for them, but they’re overcrowded, and they can only stay until they reach the age of majority. After that, they’re on their own. A lot of them turn to crime to survive, usually ending up spending a stint or two in Azkaban as well.”

“The war veterans could also use some help. Some of them are in long-term care because of their injuries, both physical and mental, and a lot more end up on the streets because they can’t afford the treatments they need to work a normal job.”

“Doesn’t the Ministry do anything to help them?” Harry asked in surprise.

“They do a lot more now than they used to,” Ted acknowledged. “But the money they set aside is nowhere near enough, and a lot of the purebloods that have the money to help are only interested in appearing to help, rather than spending their galleons.”

“What about the orphans?” Harry asked. “Why aren’t they able to find jobs after leaving Hogwarts?”

“They never get to attend Hogwarts,” Ted explained. “The Ministry covers a third of the expenses, and the parents cover another third. The remaining amount comes from donations from Alumni, revenue generated by selling potions the students produce, sales of tickets to Quiditich games, and a percentage of the sales for school textbooks.”

“If they don’t go to Hogwarts, how do they learn magic?” Harry asked.

“The Ministry provides a free course, but it’s pretty basic, just four weeks long. They just learn to get their accidental magic under control. They aren’t even given wands.”

After a long moment, Harry decided. “I want to start by helping the children,” Harry decided. “How much will it cost per student?”

“It’s about 6000 galleons per student, per year. Your portion would then be 2000 galleons per student, and an additional 50 galleons for textbooks and other school supplies each.”

“To start, I suggest three students, and when your vault generates some income, we can look into expanding the number of students, or look into other groups to help,” Ted suggested. 

“Will we be able to start this year?” Harry asked.

“The timing will be a little tight, but I think we can manage it,” Ted smiled. “Next, we can discuss how to invest your fortune,” he said, keeping the conversation moving along.

“There are various businesses that you can buy into. Nimbus seems like a good place to start. They’re a bit undervalued at the moment, and rumor has it they’ll be launching a new broom soon that will increase their revenues substantially. They just need an investor to come on board to help with production costs.”

“Flourish and Blotts is another good one, primarily a bookstore, as you know, but they have plans to expand into owl orders soon.”

“I’ll put a list together if you would like to retain my services,” Ted offered.

“Alright,” Harry agreed. 

“Great,” Ted smiled as he pulled out a contract. “Please read this and sign when you are ready.”

Harry quickly read over the contract. Everything seemed fine. Either party could cancel whenever they wished and everything would remain confidential. Ted would receive 1.5% of the profits from Harry’s investments as payment.

Harry signed the contract and passed it back to Ted, who signed his part.

“This is your copy,” Ted said as he made a duplicate for himself and handed the original contract to Harry.

“I will also send Professor Dumbledore shortly, informing him I am now representing you, and that any further communication not relating directly to your schooling can only be while I am present.” Ted explained.

“Do you think that will work?” Harry asked skeptically. “He didn’t seem like the type of person that would stop just because of a letter.”

“I also informed him that I knew about your first ‘meeting’ with him and their circumstances,” Ted went on. “If I suspect you are under the influence of any potions or mind altering spells you will be evaluated by a professional.”

“That’s all?” Harry asked. “Isn’t there anything else we can do?” He had hoped to at least file a complaint with the Aurors. 

“That would be difficult,” Ted sighed. “Professor Dumbeldore holds many important political positions both in Britain, and abroad. It would be your word against his, and you have nowhere near the influence or connections that he does.”

“Then what good will the letter do?” Harry asked, wondering if it would be better to take his chances and leave the country.

“That’s the thing about people in power,” Ted explained. “They always have something to lose, it’s just a matter of knowing what it is, and applying the right amount of pressure.”

“How’s this letter going to pressure him?” Harry asked, confused. “You said it yourself, getting the Aurors involved won’t do anything.”

“Dumbeldore isn’t a young man anymore,” Ted explained. “He has another ten, perhaps fifteen years left before he dies. His reputation, his legacy, are the most important thing to him now.”

“Every action he takes is carefully planned to account for that, and you have just enough influence now to tarnish it. He won’t take that risk.”

“Why not do it anyway?” Harry asked, “let people see what he’s really like.”

“In this case, the threat of exposure is far more useful to you than the reality of it,” Ted explained. “Dumbeldore will more than likely be able to bury this complaint, but to do that he will have to spend more of his political capital than he wants. You would also lose your protection, and free him to act against you.” 

Albus sat in his office talking with Alastor as he thought about his discussion with Harry, and the boy’s dramatic exit. Looking back at it now, it was clear that he underestimated him.  

“I told you the kid was good,” Moody smirked. 

“Yes, so you said,” Albus replied, rubbing his temples. “What can we do to find him now?”

“Honestly… not much,” Moody admitted. “We have less than a week before Hogwarts starts, and if he’s where I think he is, there’s no way to get to him now.”

“Gringotts?” Albus asked.

Moody nodded.

“Can you check with your contact? At least confirm it?” Albus asked.

“Not a chance.” Moody shook his head. “That will bring way too much suspicion down on them. They’re too well placed for me to risk that.” Moody leaned back in his chair. “He’s still registered for school, right? Have your ‘talk’ with him when he shows up.”

Albus was about to answer when an owl flew in with a newspaper. As a member of the Wizengamot, he had subscriptions for all the newspapers in Wizarding Europe.

What immediately caught his eye was that Le Gardien, a French newspaper, had a headline about the British Aristocracy.

BRITISH LORD ATTACKS POLITICAL RIVAL

By Rita Skeeter

Many of you may be asking yourself why a British reporter has an article published about the Aristocracy of a foreign country. The answer is simple. No newspaper in Britain is brave enough to publish it.

Why? Because this article exposes the corruption at the heart of the Wizengamot of Britain.

Lord James Potter abused his position on the Wizengamot to manipulate the democratic election for the office of Minister for Magic.

He falsely reported Cornelius Fudge to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, then used his clout in the Wizengamot to have a team of Hit Wizards sent to his home.

When the Hit Wizards stormed the Fudge residence, they were not following the proper protocols. They did not announce their presence and did not give the occupants a chance to surrender peacefully.

They attacked an unarmed Isabela Fudge, the only one home at the time, with an unknown series of spells, leaving her in a coma to this day.

The now duly elected Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, tried numerous times to bring these Hit Wizards to justice, but was summarily blocked by the Wizengamot on every occasion.

He attempted to bring this to the British Press, but no newspaper in Britain was willing to side against the Wizengamot. 

All evidence of this heinous crime has been collected and destroyed, and if not for a very brave confidential informant, the perpetrator of this crime would have escaped justice. 

See the animated pictures below to see the heated argument between Cornelius Fudge and James Potter, who not only admitted to this heinous act but also had the audacity to call it a miscalculation. 

What we don’t know is who helped him. Who helped James Potter commit this attack? Who helped to cover it up? And most importantly, if they were willing to attack a candidate for Minister for Magic during an election, what else have they done?

I promise you that this is just the start of my investigation. I will leave no stone unturned, and I will make sure that everyone that took part in this heinous miscarriage of justice and its subsequent cover up are brought to justice.

Albus’s hands were shaking as he took out his wand and tapped the picture, watching as James admitted to everything. Obviously it was not the full argument they had, just clips, but the results were devastating.

“... Damn,” Moody said after reading the article himself. With one article, she had flipped the entire British Aristocracy on its head.

Albus said nothing as he stalked to his fireplace. “Potter Manor,” he growled as he threw in a pinch of floo powder.

“James, step through,” Albus ordered when he saw the man’s face.

“Hello Albus,” James said, not realizing the severity of his predicament. “It’s going to have to wait. I have some important business to take care of.”

“That was not a request,” Albus said, the anger clearly evident in his tone. “You will either step through or I will drag you through.”

James immediately sobered at the old man’s tone and stepped through quickly. He had never seen Albus in such a state.

As soon as he entered the office of the headmaster, he felt something impact his chest. He reflexively grabbed it before it fell to the ground.

“Read it!” Albus demanded.

James looked down in confusion, but dutifully read the article. His eyes grew wide at the headline and his face steadily paled as he read through the article. He didn’t even have to view the pictures to know the trouble he was in.

James slowly looked up into the furious eyes of the Headmaster, very much feeling the dread he felt in his youth for his father.

“I asked you what you talked to Fudge about. You told me it was just about Harry,” Albus accused.

“Albus… it’s… I didn’t know he recorded it,” James finished lamely.

“Do you have any idea?!” Albus said, shaking his head. “All the favors I had to call in? All the promises I had to make? Just to cover all of this up for you in the first place?”

“I made a mistake,” James admitted. 

“You did a lot more than that,” Moody said as he stood up. “You painted a target on all of us. Every. Single. One. of our allies. Skeeter said it herself. She’s going to keep digging. What else do you think she’s going to find?”

“We can tell people she faked the pictures. I’ll keep a low profile for a while and the whole thing will blow over soon,” James said, trying to convince himself just as much as the other two men.

“The pictures don’t matter anymore, the story is already out there,” Albus explained. “The public will want an inquiry. They’ll start asking why you don’t just submit to questioning under veritaserum to clear your name, and then they will draw the obvious conclusion when you don't.”

James looked away as his hopes to get out of this situation unscathed went up in flames. “What do we do now?” He asked desperately.

“WE?” Dumbledore demanded. “Where was this consideration for your allies when you created this mess not once, but twice?”

“There must be something,” James begged. 

“Yes, something I should have done when you made this mess in the first place,” Albus said, sitting down in his chair, glaring. “I’m done with you.”

“What?… What do you mean, done?” James’ eyes widened.

“I am tired of cleaning up your messes, and those of your unhinged and psychotic brat,” Albus replied. “I’m done trying to build her reputation on the world stage, only for her to destroy it just as quickly.”

“But she’s the girl-who-lived,” James said numbly. “She defeated the dark lord.”

“There is nothing special about your daughter,” Albus said bluntly. “Quite the opposite, actually. She is not intelligent, or resourceful, or even powerful magically for her age. If the dark lord ever returns, anyone from her age group would stand a better chance than her.”

“Leave, but if you breathe one word of my involvement or anyone else’s in covering up your crimes, you will see the apathy I currently hold for you quickly change. Do I make myself clear?” Albus demanded.

James nodded as he quickly made his way to the fireplace and left. 

“What do you want to do about him?” Moody asked. 

“There’s nothing we can do,” Albus muttered darkly. “If he were to meet with an ‘unfortunate’ accident now, it would just lead to more investigations. The risk is too high that it will lead back to us.”

“Do you really think he’ll keep his mouth shut?” Moody asked skeptically.

Albus sighed audibly as he leaned back in his chair. “No… I doubt he’s smart enough for that, but the evidence is already destroyed. If he points fingers, it will just make him look like a desperate man trying to keep himself out of Azkaban. A few articles in the Prophet should take care of it.”

“Even then,” Moody said as he walked to the fireplace. “It’s not the kind of attention we want to draw. I’ll double check nothing leads back to us.” He said as he left.

Dumbledore popped a lemon drop into his mouth, deep in thought. The one saving grace seemed to be that it was in a foreign newspaper. With any luck, it wouldn’t draw too much attention from the rabble.

Cornelius smiled as he read the newspaper in his study. Working with Skeeter was proving to be even more useful than he hoped.

The fact that the article was published in a French newspaper instead of the Prophet meant that it would not get much attention in Britain, but it would still get the attention from the people he needed to see it most, the Wizengamot.

It would force them to act now. They couldn’t allow Potter to remain on the Wizengamot after this scandal, and many of the protections he had as a member would be gone with it.

It would take time, but he would take everything away from James Potter, just like he had done to him. “Soon Isabel,” Cornelius promised, “soon.”

Chapter Text

Lily Potter didn't know what to do. When James returned from his meeting with Albus, something was clearly wrong, but he wouldn't tell her what it was, no matter how many times she asked.

He had locked himself away in his study for days, not even coming out to sleep, the house-elves even had to bring him his meals. Neither she nor Glory had seen him in such a state before.

After the fourth day and no change, Lily called Albus. "Professor, I need to speak to you. It's urgent," she said into the fireplace.

"Lily?" Albus asked in surprise. "I take it James said nothing to you?" He couldn't say he was surprised.

"No, he locked himself away in his study for the last four day days," Lily replied. "I'm worried Albus, what's happened?"

"Alright, come through," Albus instructed.

"Please Albus, tell me what's going on," Lily pleaded.

Without answering, Albus handed her the same newspaper he had handed James before.

Lily looked at the article in confusion, her eyes growing wide as she read through it. "This can't be true," she said as she finished reading it. "It must be some kind of mistake. James would never put us at risk like this."

"It's all true," Albus denied.

"What's going to happen?" Lily asked.

"There are already discussions amongst Wizengamot members," Albus revealed. "His election tampering, the coverup. None of them like scandals, and our political rivals have been waiting for an opportunity like this for a long time."

"You have to stop it," Lily pleaded. "As the Supreme Mugwump, you can end this before it even gets started. There must be some favors you can call in."

"I will not stop it Lily," Albus shook his head. "I have been cleaning up your husband's messes for far too long already, and I'm tired of it."

"You made promises to me," Lily hissed. "I didn't even want to marry him, but YOU were the one that convinced me to. You owe me this," she demanded.

"And didn't you get everything I promised you?" Albus asked. "A rich husband? Living in the lap of luxury? Fancy parties? What exactly did I promise you that you didn't receive?"

"It wasn't supposed to end," Lily shook her head. "What am I supposed to do if he ends up in Azkaban, or worse? Glory and I could end up on the streets," Lily retorted.

"Where was all this concern during your fifteen years of marriage?" Albus asked. "You knew exactly what he was when you married him, and you did nothing to fix it."

Lily took a deep breath to get ahold of herself. Getting into a fight with Albus now would only make things worse for her.

"I told you to marry him so that you would temper his actions, get him to think before he does something he will regret. That was your job!" Albus accused. "But you were so enamored with your new life you forgot everything else!"

"… You're right," Lily sighed. At first she thought he would mature as he got older, but it didn't happen. After a few years of trying, it just became easier to ignore. "What is the Wizengamot going to do?"

"It is still being discussed, but there will be a fine, and the Potter family will be ejected from the Wizengamot," Albus revealed. "There is also the possibility of him being sent to Azkaban, it largely depends on what other information Fudge chooses to reveal."

"But… the Potters have been on the Wizengamot for more than a thousand years.… They can't just do this, can they?" Lily asked in shock.

"No member of the Wizengamot has acted so brazenly as to attack a candidate for the office of Minister for Magic before," Albus reminded her. "He has embarrassed the families, and more than that, sent a message to the wizarding public that the Wizengamot is above the law. He has forced their hand."

"What are we supposed to do?" Lily asked, feeling faint.

"If you haven't already you need to find a good solicitor," Albus replied. "Get him and your daughter under control, because things can certainly get worse." Albus advised. "The Wizengamot will take a very dim view of any more scandals."

Lily nodded as she stepped back through the fireplace for a long overdue conversation with her husband.

"James?" Lily said as she knocked on the door to Jame's study. "Open the door. We need to talk."

"I'm busy Lily, just come back later," James said through the door.

"I talked to Albus, James. He told me everything. Open the door," Lily demanded.

There was a long silence after that, then she could hear James pacing back and forth behind the door.

"Open the door James," Lily repeated.

After another long pause, the door finally clicked open, and Lily saw the face of her disheveled husband. He said nothing as he stepped back, allowing her inside.

Lily looked around the study. Various books littered every surface. Sheets of paper haphazardly strewn across his desk with scribbled notes.

"Albus told me about Fudge and his wife," Lily revealed.

James let out a long sigh. "… I didn't. It wasn't supposed to happen like that," James tried to explain. "It was just supposed to scare him off."

"No," Lily said, marching up to James, taking his face in her hands. "Do not do that."

"What?" James asked in confusion.

"Fudge is nothing!" Lily replied. "He is not from a founding family of the Wizengamot, he is just a politician. They come and go, and are forgotten just as easily."

"Then you're not upset… about what I did?" James asked.

"What I'm upset about is that you kept all of this from me, and that you got caught," Lily clarified. "From now on, no more secrets. You need to tell me everything. We need to work together."

"Alright," James nodded, a little relieved that he wouldn't have to fight with Lily about this, on top of everything else.

"Albus told me that there's going to be a hearing in front of the Wizengamot. They're going to take the Potter seat away, and they're still deciding if they should send you to Azkaaban " Lily answered.

"What?" James asked in shock. "They've never done something like that before… never."

"We need to hire a solicitor," Lily replied. "And figure out how to fight this."

Harry was in the living room of his suite, doing pushups. Because of the situation with Dumbledore, it wasn't safe for him to leave the bank, at least until Ted addressed the issue.

After the 50th pushup he stood up, wiped the sweat from his brow with a towel, then switched to doing sit ups. The progress was slower now. He no longer had the nutritional potions boosting his recovery, but they had helped immensely during the first few days.

He was a couple of inches taller, his endurance had improved, as well as his overall strength. 'Thanks Ben,' Harry thought as he finished up.

"Harry, it's Ted," He knocked on the door.

"I've sent the letter to Dumbledore informing him that I'm your new solicitor," Ted said as Harry let him into the suite. "Any communication he has with you, not related directly to your education, must go through me from now on."

"That's a relief," Harry sighed. "Does that mean it's safe to go outside the bank?"

"Yes, but if you run into any trouble, use your Gringott's card to return here, and then contact me right away," Ted advised.

"I've also finalized the candidates for the Harry Potter Scholarship Fund. Have a look," he said as he handed Harry the folder.

Harry looked through the list of names.

Wayne Hopkins, parents unknown, and grew up in the orphanage, believed to be half blood.

Sally Perks, child of half blood on her mother's side, and muggle born on her father's side. Both parents died during the war, lives with her aunt in the muggle world.

Oliver Rivers, child of two muggle born who died during the war. Living in the orphanage since the age of one.

"It looks like they all had hard lives," Harry said as he put the file down. He had known about the war growing up, but no one had ever talked about the people that died. It was a sobering thought that so many people had lost their families.

"Well, they were pretty excited when they found out about the scholarship. Until now, going to Hogwarts was just a dream for them," Ted smiled.

"There must be other scholarships, though," Harry said in confusion.

"There are a few," Ted agreed. "But they also have a lot of rules that prevent most children from applying."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused. "Why set up a scholarship that no one can get?"

"Not no one, just very few," Ted clarified. "There is usually a test on magical theory, although most third years would find it difficult, let alone a child with no formal magical training, and an interview process to reduce the candidates ever further."

"It's a way for the wealthy pureblood families to claim a tax write off. So long as they grant at least one scholarship every ten years, they can continue to offer them."

"And the Ministry does nothing to stop this?" Harry asked in surprise.

"The Ministry doesn't have the power to. They only propose the bills, but it's up to the Wizengamot to ultimately vote for them and make them law. Any attempt to update the law will be dead on arrival. It's far too lucrative for the families," Ted explained.

"That actually brings me to the other thing I wanted to discuss with you. Now that I'm your solicitor of record, I receive meeting requests on your behalf, and the Minister for Magic would like to speak with you." Ted said.

"Did he say what it was about?" Harry asked, curiously. Did Dumbledore follow through on his threats?

"He said that he would like to discuss the Vault with you. From what I gathered, it doesn't seem to be about your wand," Ted added.

"When does he want to speak to me?" Harry asked.

"Today, if possible," Ted answered. "I will accompany you to make sure everything is above board."

"Alright," Harry agreed.

Harry and Ted walked into the Minister's office to find both Minister Fudge and Saul Croaker waiting for them.

"Hello Harry, Mr. Tonks, thank you for coming on such short notice," Cornelius said as he stood up, shaking each of their hands.

"Of course Minister," Ted replied.

"This is Saul Croaker, Head of the Department of Mysteries," Fudge introduced.

"Harry, there's something else I wanted to show you as well," Fudge said as he handed him the newspaper.

Harry took the newspaper, noticing it was not the prophet, but a French newspaper. His eyes grew wide as he read through the headline.

Even knowing what he did about his father, it was still a surprise to read. "I… I didn't know anything about this."

"It's alright Harry," Fudge patted him on the shoulder.. "I didn't expect you would have."

"Your father will be brought in front of the Wizengamot in the next few days to answer for his actions," Fudge continued. "I wanted to make sure you were aware of what was happening, especially considering your recent charitable actions." He said, referring to the scholarship program. "When the paperwork came across my desk, I approved it right away."

"Thank you Minister," Harry said politely.

"You're welcome Harry," Cornelius smiled. "And for the record, what you're doing is commendable. Those children will have a much better life, thanks to you," he praised. 'And perhaps it will even shame some of the families into doing the same,' he thought privately.

Harry blushed at the compliment. He wasn't used to being thanked by anyone.

"Minister Fudge, I was hoping to speak to you about that," Ted cut in, not wanting to let this opportunity slip through his fingers. "To give these children the best chance to succeed, a summer internship at the Ministry could be invaluable."

"Hmm," Fudge pretended to think about it for a moment. He knew exactly what Tonks was offering. A chance for him to get some good publicity while also giving the children some valuable work experience.

"That sounds interesting Mr. Tonks. I'll tell you what. By let's say… February, if they can show they are taking their studies seriously, send me an owl with what Ministry Department they're interested in, and I'll arrange for an internship. I'll even make it paid, so they have a little spending money for their second year," Fudge offered.

"Thank you Minister," Ted smiled. "I'm sure they'll jump at an opportunity like that."

"Harry, there was also another reason I wanted to speak to you," Fudge said. "It's about the vault."

"What about the vault?" Harry asked, worried that he had somehow found out about his wand.

"We're not able to remove anything from the vault," Fudge explained. "We hoped that you would have some insights for us on why that is."

"Harry, ask him to take you to the vault," Merlin said urgently. "It's not what they think it is."

'What do you mean?' Harry thought back.

"The vault is dangerous. They can't remove anything from it. Tell him you need to see it." Merlin urged.

"Alright, can we go there now?" Harry asked.

"Certainly," Saul said, speaking up for the first time. "We've had it moved to the department of mysteries."

A few minutes later and an elevator ride down to sub-basement nine, Cornelius, Saul, Harry and Ted stood in front of Merlin's vault.

A team of Unspeakables were already waiting for them, examining the contents of the vault and the door itself.

"Tell them to get out of the vault. You need to step in alone," Merlin instructed.

"Minister Fudge?" Harry asked. "I think I need to step inside the vault alone."

"Alone?" Fudge asked. "Why is that?"

"I think the vault became linked to me after I solved the cyphers," Harry explained. "I don't think it will do anything if someone else is inside with me."

"Saul?" Fudge asked. "What do you think?"

"We've tried everything else, Minister." Saul replied.

"Is it safe?" Fudge asked.

"Most likely, if something dangerous was going to happen, it would have already."

"…Alright Harry, it's your decision," Cornelius said as Saul motioned for the unspeakables to step out.

Harry took a deep breath and stepped inside. A moment later, an energy field expanded to cover the door.

"Do you see that large tomb on the pedestal?" Merlin asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes, that's your journal, right?"

"Read it," Merlin instructed.

Harry walked up to the tomb on the pedestal and read. "… It's a ritual to increase magical power." Harry's eyes widened. "This can't be real. Why would you have something like this? It's vile." Harry said, disgusted.

"You could become powerful, more powerful than any of our other incarnations," Merlin tempted.

"No," Harry shook his head adamantly. "Not like this. No power is worth this."

"Good," Merlin said simply. "You passed."

"What? Was this a test?" Harry asked angrily. "What would you have done if I didn't pass?" Harry asked.

"I would have allowed you to perform the ritual," Merlin answered.

"This ritual is real?" Harry asked, aghast. "You would have let me sacrifice children?"

"It's real," Merlin confirmed. "If you sacrifice the lives of 10 magical children with that ritual, you can take their magic, but what it doesn't tell you is that it is a cursed life."

"Everyone that you meet will feel that taint on your soul. They won't truly understand what they feel, but they will know you are the cause."

"Everyone that performed this ritual was hunted down and eventually killed. It was only a matter of time," Merlin explained.

"I thought you were supposed to help me," Harry said in shock.

"That is what you need to understand, Harry. If you decide to do something terrible, I can't stop you. I'm just a voice in your head that will teach you what I have learned. Everything you decide to do with that knowledge is your decision and your responsibility."

"How many more of your 'tests' do I have to look forward to?" Harry asked, unamused.

"Harry, this was not my test. One of our earlier incarnations conceived it. It happened so long ago that I don't even know which incarnation it was."

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"Harry, this vault isn't just my tomb. It also contains some of the most dangerous magical items in the world," Merlin explained. "Before I told you any of this, I had to know what you would do."

"There are rituals and magical items here that can summon the undead, demons, even spells capable of killing millions," Merlin explained. "No one, under any circumstances, can use these items."

"What do we do now?" Harry asked. "The Minister is expecting us to help him get into the vault."

"He understood how dangerous atoms are after you explained it to him," Merlin replied. "I suggest you tell him what this vault contains, and why it can never be allowed to fall into the wrong hands."

"And if he doesn't agree?" Harry asked.

"Don't give him a choice. Close the vault door. Even though they know the answers to the cyphers, it will only open for you now."

"And the sword?" Harry asked, changing the subject. "When I saw it the first time, I thought it was Excalibur."

"No, after Arthur died, the sword was returned to Nimue. This is something else, something worse," Merlin answered vaguely.

"What is it then?" Harry asked.

"… It is called the Ebony Blade, and it will corrupt anyone that attempts to wield it," Merlin finally answered.

Harry took one last look around before stepping out, willing the door to close behind him.

The unspeakables looked up, alarmed, as the door closed behind Harry. They ran, trying to pull the door open, but despite their best efforts, the door remained closed.

"What happened, Harry?" Cornelius asked. "Can you open the door again?"

Harry shook his head. "No… Is there somewhere private we can talk? We can't let anyone back in there."

"There had better be a good explanation for this," Fudge said as he led them into Saul's office and closed the door.

"Can you check if there's any spying spells?" Harry asked.

Saul Croker waved his wand, muttering a few spells under his breath. "It's clean."

"… We were all wrong about the vault," Harry explained. "It isn't just Merlin's final resting place, or his personal library… it's a tomb meant to store things that were never meant to see the light of day."

"What are you talking about, Harry? How could you possibly know that?" Cornelius demanded.

"The book in the middle of the vault. I thought it was Merlin's journal. When I read it, I found a ritual that lets you steal magic," Harry explained.

"Steal Magic?" Saul asked skeptically. "I have run this department for over 30 years, Mr. Potter, and I can assure you, no such ritual exists. Magic can't just be stolen."

"You're wrong," Harry denied. "I saw the ritual. It exists."

"Then why, in the entire history of the Department of Mysteries, have we never come across a shred of evidence that such magic exists?" Saul asked.

"Merlin destroyed every copy of that vile ritual except the one in the vault," Harry explained.

"If it was as bad as you say, why wouldn't Merlin have destroyed all the copies?" Cornelius asked.

"Witches and wizards created these rituals," Harry explained. "There is always a chance they could re-discover them. If they ever do, the books will also show how to stop them."

"And the rest of the items, the sword?" Cornelius asked.

"All of it," Harry replied. "Spells, rituals, magical items. They will only bring death and destruction."

"Then why put all the writing on it? The cyphers? What was the point of that?" Cornelius asked.

"Merlin knew there were more items like this out there, and that someone would need to carry on his work," Harry explained.

"So all of this was to find a new caretaker?" Saul asked. "You're asking us to accept a lot, without any proof."

Harry exhaled slowly. Mr. Croaker had a point. What could he say?

"You don't have a choice," Ted piped up. "You allowed my client to enter the vault. He removed nothing from it, and it is all still in your possession. He is under no obligation to help you further."

"He closed the door behind him," Saul denied. "Because of him, we no longer have access to the vault either. He has effectively taken the items from our possession."

"For good reason, Merlin himself said those items are too dangerous. What could you possibly gain from studying them that would out way the obvious risks? How could you possibly guard those items better than they are now?" Ted demanded.

"We only have Mr. Potter's word on that," Saul pointed out.

"And why is his word not good enough?" Ted asked as the exchange got more heated. "He was the one that solved the vault in the first place, and from what I see, he is the only one showing any genuine concern for the safety of the wizarding public!"

"Alright, Alright," Fudge interrupted, clearly able to see how quickly things were escalating. "Let's all just take a breath."

"I have no reason to doubt Harry's words. It makes sense, and the risks far outweigh the gains, as Mr. Tonks pointed out. I'll have to figure out something to tell the press, but no one is going to force you to open the Vault Harry," Fudge said as he looked pointedly at Saul.

"Why don't we discuss things in my office," Cornelius suggested as he led Harry and Ted out, leaving an annoyed Saul Croaker behind.

"I have to apologize for Saul," Cornelius said as he closed the door. "Him… all the unspeakables really… they've always been more interested in studying things than asking themselves if they should."

"What are you going to tell everyone?" Harry asked.

"That the vault contained some powerful magical items, and until such time that we can identify exactly what they are, and what they do, it is not safe for the public to view them," Fudge explained.

"You're taking this surprisingly well," Ted observed.

"This isn't the first time the Ministry has had to deal with a dangerous magical artifact," Fudge explained. "Certainly nothing this his profile though, and there will be quite a few people who are unhappy about it."

"Maybe you can help me with that, Harry," Cornelius asked.

"Help? What did you have in mind?" Ted asked shrewdly.

"The press is still very much focused on the Vault, and the best way to distract them is to give them a few other stories to focus on," Cornelius explained.

"The scholarship you created is admirable, Harry, the thing the public loves to hear about. How would you feel about another interview? Perhaps after your first week at Hogwarts?" Fudge asked.

Harry didn't really like the idea of giving interviews, but the Minister had done him a huge favor. "Alright, I guess I can do that."

"That's great Harry," Cornelius smiled. "Who knows? Maybe you'll inspire a few other people to follow your example."

"… Actually, now that I think about it," Cornelius paused. "How would you feel about attending the Ministry Christmas Ball? You can even bring the children you sponsored. The press will obviously be in attendance and it will get you some more good publicity."

"That would be wonderful," Ted interrupted when he noticed the reluctance on Harry's face. "We would be happy to attend."

"Wonderful," Cornelius smiled as he shook each of their hands. "I'll be in touch with the details, Harry, but if you'll excuse me, there are some meetings I have to get to."

"Of course, thank you for your time, Minister," Ted said as he led Harry out.

"I don't really want to attend the Christmas Ball," Harry said when they stepped out of the Minister's office.

"Harry," Ted replied. "Part of my job is managing your public image, because like it or not, you're a public figure now. If you are not in front of the press regularly controlling the narrative, someone else will decide how the public sees you."

Harry sighed as he thought about what Ted had told him. There was so much on his plate already. Could he really afford to split his attention between this and his training?

Chapter Text

Harry looked around the Gringott’s suite that he had been staying in for the last time. Today was the day that he would leave for Hogwarts.

Ted had already explained that even though he was emancipated, he still needed to attend Hogwarts. He needed to complete his magical education, at the very least, if he wanted to be taken seriously.

His physical training was going well, and Merlin told him he would be ready for more advanced magical and occlumency training soon.  

Harry picked up his trunk, placing it in his pocket and left for King’s Cross Station. 

It was still early when he arrived, so there were only a few families there. He was just about to step onto the train when he saw them. James, Lily, and Glory Potter, the three people that he had hoped to avoid for a while longer.

“Harry, wait!” Lily shouted, dashing any hope he had of getting on the train before they noticed him.

Harry stopped and looked at each of them in turn. 

Lily had a smile on her face, looking for all the world like the doting mother ready to see her son off to Hogwarts. 

James had a neutral expression on his face, doing his best to present a good public image. After the article in the French newspaper, Harry was not surprised. He was likely on thin ice with most of his allies and needed to avoid any kind of bad publicity.

Last was Glory. She was glaring openly at him, but surprisingly didn’t say a word. She was behaving herself, most likely at the pleading of James and Lily, but she was clearly angry that the spotlight had shifted from her.

He idly wondered what James and Lily had to promise her to even get this much out of her, as he imagined what Potter Manor must have been like after they found out about the Vault. 

Harry let out a deep sigh as he stepped back from the train, preparing himself. “What do you want?”

“Harry, that is no way to speak to your family,” Lily admonished lightly as they walked up to him. “We’re obviously here to see you off to Hogwarts,” she said as she leaned forward to give him a hug.

Harry shook his head, taking a step back from her. “No, that’s not why you’re here.”

“What?” Lily asked, stopping short. “Don’t be silly. Of course, that’s the reason we’re here. We love you,” she said, keeping the smile plastered on her face. 

Harry felt his eyes sting, the emotions warring inside of him. How long had he waited to hear those words from her? How long had he dreamed of finally being accepted by them? He had tried so hard to be the son that they wanted, only to be ridiculed and called worthless.

It was all right there in front of him, everything he had ever wanted, but when he looked at them now, the all-encompassing need to be accepted and loved by them wasn’t there anymore. 

The urge was still there, but muted, and tempered by everything he had gone through over the last few weeks. It gave him a clarity that he didn’t have before. It was like he could truly see them for who they were.

“We were so proud when we read about you in the Prophet Harry,” Lily tried again to get things back on track.

“…” Harry just stared at them, not saying a word.

“What’s the matter, Harry?” Lily asked, getting annoyed. This wasn’t the way he was supposed to act. Couldn’t he see they were welcoming him back with open arms? “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

There was an anger, deep in the pit of Harry’s stomach, that slowly bubbled to the surface. “I have nothing I want to say to you,” Harry replied, doing his best to keep his tone even. 

Lily faltered, not sure what to say. This wasn’t going how she expected it to. Harry was supposed to be happy to see them. He should have been ecstatic when she said they were proud of him, that they loved him.

“Still ungrateful I see,” James muttered. “Even after everything we’ve done for you.”

Lily tried her best to shush James. “Remember what we talked about,” she whispered to him, but it was too late. The look on Harry’s face said it all. 

“What exactly did you do for me?” Harry asked, noting the fear he had long held for his father had faded since the last time he saw him. 

“I put a roof over your head, fed you, clothed you.” James retorted. “And this is how you repay me?”

“Shh, James,” Lily said insistently, still hoping to salvage the situation. “I’ll handle this.”

“I’m sorry about your father Harry,” Lily said. “He’s just been under a lot of stress recently. He didn’t mean that. You understand, right?” Lily asked.

“Would that stress have anything to do with the article in the French newspaper?” Harry goaded. 

“How do you know about that?” James demanded. 

“I saw the article, and the pictures,” Harry answered. 

“Fudge is just trying to discredit me!” James denied. “When I talk to the Wizengamot, I’ll straighten everything out.”

‘Now it’s all making sense,’ Harry thought. “And that’s why you’re here now, right? You want me to put in a good word for you? Maybe give an interview in the Prophet about what a great father you are? How all of it was just some horrible misunderstanding?” Harry asked sarcastically.

“We’re family Harry, that’s what we’re supposed to do, take care of each other,” Lily said, as she stepped between them. The last thing they needed now was for James to lose his temper, especially in front of all these people.

Harry looked at his mother, incensed. “Take care of each other? Is that what we do?” He demanded. “Maybe you can remind me. How exactly, did you take care of me? Where were you when I was sick? Where were you on my birthdays, or Christmas?”

Lily huffed in frustration. The boy was causing a scene, likely on purpose, just to make them look bad, and as she looked at the faces of the people watching them now, it was working. “Why don’t we talk about this somewhere more private, dear?” She said, trying to take control of the situation.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I’ve said all I need to,” he said, turning to board the train.

“Don’t turn your back on me, boy,” James stopped him. “I’ve had enough of this temper tantrum of yours. You’re going to do your duty to this family.”

“Why? We both know that everything they printed in that article was the truth, and the last thing I’m going to do is lie for you,” Harry replied.

“I’ve had enough of this attitude of yours,” James said as he pushed past Lily. “We both know that you just got lucky with the Vault! You’re not smart enough to do something like that. You’re the same thing you’ve always been. A weak, pathetic, little brat, and you’re not fooling anyone, least of all me,” James sneered. “You’re going to do what I tell you, just like you always have, and always will.”

Harry looked at James, not surprised in the least by what he said. It certainly wasn’t anything new, but after everything he had been through, his words just didn’t have the same bite they used to. He knew it wasn’t true, at least anymore. 

He could see now that the man he had feared for so long wasn’t a giant towering over him, frothing at the mouth, ready to tear him limb from limb. He was just a man, and not much of one at that.

Lily slumped her shoulders in defeat. James had let his temper get the better of him, and pushed Harry even further away from them, exactly when they needed him the most.

Glory stared gleefully at Harry after her father finished speaking. Now he was definitely going to get it, and everything was going to go back to normal.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I’m not your punching bag anymore, and I will not help you get out of the mess you made for yourself!”

A dark look crossed James’s face as he stalked forward, ready to knock some sense into the damn brat. The boy was too full of himself. He curled his hands into fists as he stepped forward.

He solved a few puzzles. So what? Was everyone supposed to believe that he was the second coming of Merlin now? The boy needed to be taken down a few pegs.

Harry flicked his wrist, releasing his wand, and snapped his arm forward. “Protego!”  

James was completely unprepared for the shield spell that expanded out to cover Harry. It slammed into him, knocking him off his feet and onto the hard cement of the train station. 

The next spell hit him just as fast, leaving James no time to react. “Incarcerous!” Harry shouted, tieing James up with the conjured ropes. 

Lily’s and Glory’s jaws dropped open in shock. They had never expected Harry to defend himself, let alone as definitely as he had.

James groaned. He hit his head when he landed on the ground. ‘What happened?’ he thought, in a daze as he tried to move.

“Look at me,” Harry said as he stared down at his father. “I said look at me,” Harry said as he kicked James’s legs angrily when he didn’t respond.  

James came to his senses, looking up to see the boy staring down at him, wand in hand. As he realized the situation he was in, he felt a tingle of fear involuntarily crawl down his spine.

“I’m done with you,” Harry said as he glared down at James. “I’m done being afraid of you. I’m done caring about what you think of me, and I’m most certainly done with doing what you tell me to do.”

“You spent my whole life telling me I was nothing, that I wasn’t good enough, and for the longest time, I believed your lies!” Harry shouted. “But now I see the truth. You’re the one that’s not good enough! You never have been.”

“All I had to do was spend a few weeks away from you to see it,” Harry said as he thought about Ben, Tom, Ted, Nimue, even the Minister. 

“You are a cruel, spiteful, and petty man.” Harry glared down at James. “You don’t deserve my respect, or anyone else’s.”

James couldn’t bring himself to look into the face of his son, embarrassed by how easily Harry had beaten him, and how similar his words were to the last conversation he had with his father.

“I see you now for what you are. You called me weak, but look at you, beaten by an eleven-year-old!” 

“You called me pathetic, but you’ve done nothing with your life, not even with all the opportunities that you got!”

“You called me a brat, but you’re the one that stamps his feet like a child and throws temper tantrums when you don’t get your way!”

“You are everything you have ever accused me of being.” Harry glared down at his father.

James’s face went red with anger as he shouted incoherently, struggling in futility to escape the ropes.

“Shut up, Harry!” Glory shouted, not able to hold back her anger and frustration any longer. “I’m the special one, not you! I’m the famous one. It should have been me that opened Merlin’s Vault, and you stole it from me!” Glory accused murderously. “I hate you!”

Harry looked at his sister as she continued to rant, not even caring what she had to say, then the struggling form of his father, and finally at his mother, who was trying her best to hide her face in embarrassment. 

A small crowd had gathered around them. How could they not, after all that? Some were clearly enjoying the show, others looked on in concern, but no one stepped forward to free James Potter. 

Harry turned on his heel and stepped onto the train.

~***~

Harry sat in his train compartment with the curtains drawn. He was still early enough to get a compartment to himself, and it was almost time for the train to depart. He didn’t know how many people saw what happened. 

He had surprised even himself with how he acted. Until today, until he saw them, he had never thought he would stand up to them, let alone everything else that happened.

The anger he felt was so foreign to him, but as soon as he started arguing with James, it all just came tumbling out.

When the anger faded and Harry could think clearly again, he couldn’t help but wonder how Ben would have handled it. Would he have even talked to them or just walked away after incapacitating James? Would he have shouted at them the way he had?

He didn’t feel bad about what he did. Was that wrong? Was he supposed to? He wished Ben was here now to help him figure out what he was feeling.

A knock at the door interrupted Harry’s thoughts, then a red head looked inside. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

Harry looked up at the boy, recognizing his face. “… I remember you. You were at the museum, Ron, right?”

“Yeah,” Ron smiled, glad that Harry remembered him. “I remember you too. Do you mind?” He asked as he gestured to the empty seat.

“Sure,” Harry nodded, glad for once to not be alone. “Plenty of room.”

Ron sat down, looking at the boy in front of him, the boy that solved Merlin’s cypher. He had searched up and down the train to find him. There were so many things he wanted to ask, but now that he was sitting in front of him, he didn’t even know where to start. 

After an uncomfortable silence, he said the first thing that popped into his head. “What house you think you’ll be in?”

“… I’m not really sure,” Harry said as he thought about it for the first time. When he was younger, he had dreamed of going to Hogwarts, just to get away from his family. It had never mattered to him what house he ended up in. “What about you? Which house do you want?”

“My whole family’s been in Gryffindor,” Ron answered. 

“… So that’s where you want to go, too?” Harry asked. 

“Yeah, of course it is,” Ron answered, but he didn’t feel about it as strongly as he thought he would. Could he step out of his older brother’s shadows if he did everything they did? Would going to a different house be better?

Harry nodded. “I suppose I’ll figure out which house I want when we get there.”

They lapsed into uncomfortable silence as the train pulled out of the station. Harry didn’t have much experience speaking to people his own age, so he wasn’t really sure how to keep the conversation going.

Ron was racking his brain, trying to figure out a way to ask what he really wanted to know. Would he just tell him, or would he laugh at him?

“What is it?” Harry asked when he noticed Ron staring at him.

“… Can I ask you something, Harry?” Ron asked, deciding just to go for it.

“Sure,” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. 

“I watched you… when you opened Merlin’s vault. How did you know you could do it?” Ron asked.

Harry exhaled slowly, thinking about what to say. “… To be honest with you, I didn’t. I read about it in the newspaper and I just wanted to see if I could do it. Wasn’t it the same for you?”

“Not really,” Ron admitted. “It was mostly my mum’s idea. I wanted to go to Fortescue’s…”

“Oh,” Harry replied. “Why didn’t you want to?” He asked curiously.

“… I didn’t think I could do it,” Ron admitted, looking down.

“What does it matter if you can do it or not?” Harry asked.

“I have five older brothers,” Ron explained. “Everything I’ve ever wanted to do, at least one of them has already done it. When I don’t get things right, they make fun of me.”

Harry nodded in understanding. “So if you don’t try, they can’t make fun of you?”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed. 

“What you said just now, it made me realize something,” Harry said as thought about his confrontation with his family in a new light.

“The people that discourage us don’t do it because we’re not good enough, or even because they could do it better. They do it because as long as there’s someone they can point to that’s not as smart, or as strong, or as talented as them, and they can feel superior. They want you to stay exactly the way you are, because that way they don’t have to get better either.”

Ron sat there thinking about what Harry said. He hadn’t really thought about it that way, but he couldn’t deny Harry had at least had a point. What had he achieved by not trying, by giving up before he had even started? Sure, he had saved himself some potential embarrassment, but he also stayed exactly where he was. 

“I want to do what you did,” Ron realized. “I don’t want to be just another in a long line of Weasley’s, but everything I can think of doing, one of my brothers already did,” Ron explained. “So, what am I supposed to do?”

“Someone I care about told me something I’ll never forget. Study harder than everyone else, work harder than everyone else, and try harder than everyone else. If you can do all that, even if someone else did it before you, you’ll find a way,” Harry replied.

“Thanks Harry, I’ll think about what you said,” Ron said, deep in thought now. He didn’t think his brothers were trying to hold him back, at least on purpose. They probably had to deal with the same thing he was now. Is that what they did as well?

After another long silence, Ron started another conversation. “What’s your favorite quidditch team?” Ron asked. “Mine’s the Chudley Cannons,” He said proudly.

Now this was a topic that Harry was at least familiar with. James had been a quidditch fanatic. So even though he had never been to a game in person, he at least knew some of the team’s names, and what their general standings were.

An hour passed as they warmed up to each other, drifting from one topic to another. Chocolate frog cards, exploding snap, and chess. They were so engrossed in what they were talking about, it caught them by surprise when the door banged open.

“Have any of you seen a toad? There’s a boy that’s lost one,” a girl with bushy brown hair said as she stepped inside.

Harry looked at the girl, recognizing her, but he wasn’t sure from where. 

“I’m Harry Potter… and you are?” Harry asked.

“I’m Hermione Granger,” she said as she crossed her arms in front of her, recognizing exactly where she had met him.

“Um… What’s going on?” Ron asked, picking up on the obvious tension between Harry and Hermione.

“… I saw her when I went to Gringott’s. She was standing in line,” Harry explained, remembering the girl from the bank.

Hermione looked like she wanted to say more, but held her tongue.

“Oh… ok.” Ron replied, not sure what to make of the glare Hermione was giving Harry. 

“We haven’t seen any toads, sorry,” Harry answered.

Just as Hermione was about to say something else, another boy popped his head into the compartment. “Sorry to bother you….” He said, trailing off as he recognized Harry immediately.

“Come on, Neville,” Hermione said as she turned to leave. “They said they haven’t seen your toad.”

“Wait!” Neville said, forgetting entirely about his toad. “You’re him… you’re Harry Potter. I read about you in the Prophet!”

“What?” Hermione asked. Why would the rude boy from the bank be in a newspaper?

“Yeah, it was brilliant,” Neville explained. “He solved Merlin’s Cypher.”

“What’s that?” Hermione asked, even more confused. She had obviously heard about Merlin. Everyone had. But she didn’t know anything about this vault he was talking about.

“Merlin created a vault a long time ago… maybe 1000 years ago. No one really knows for sure, and to get inside, you had to solve these puzzles,” Ron explained. “Loads of people have tried it over the years and no one could figure it out… until Harry did.”

“Yeah,” Neville agreed. “They broadcast it live on the WWN too. There were a bunch of books and magical artifacts from Merlin’s time in there. Did the Ministry let you keep any of it, Harry?”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “They said I’m only allowed to have the prize money.”

“Prize money?” Hermione asked.

“500,000 galleons,” Ron answered. 

Hermione’s eyes widened as she did the math in her head for how much that would be in pounds. Each galleon was worth about 21 pounds, so that was 10.5 million pounds! That at least explained how he acted at the bank.

“… What about your toad Neville?” Hermione changed the subject. “Are we still looking for it?”

“Oh right,” Neville blanched. “I totally forgot… Do you know any spells that could help Harry?”

“Sorry, I only read the first year spell book so far. I haven’t learned any spells yet that would help,” Harry replied.

‘I knew it!’ Hermione thought, feeling vindicated. Harry Potter wasn’t anything special. He couldn’t even be bothered to read ahead. It must have just been a fluke when he opened the vault. When they got to Hogwarts, she would run circles around him. She just knew it.

“Well, I just finished reading all the second year text books a week ago,” Hermione bragged. “And I’m about halfway through the third year’s texts now.” 

“Come on, Neville,” Hermione said, dragging the boy out with her. “Let’s keep looking.”

Neville looked for a moment like he wanted to stay, but slumped his shoulders and followed Hermione out.

~***~

Harry and Ron were looking out of the window as the train continued to make its way to Hogwarts. Other than the woman selling candy, they hadn’t had any more visitors. They were just dozing off when the compartment door slid open.

“Everyone up and down the train is saying that this is Harry Potter’s compartment. Are you him?” A pale, blonde-haired boy asked as he marched in and pointed at Harry. 

Harry recognized the boy immediately. He was the one from Madam Malkin’s that reminded him of Glory. “Yes, and you are?” Harry asked. 

“I’m Draco, Draco Malfoy,” he said, holding his hand out for Harry to shake.

Harry looked down at his hand as he wondered what to do. Was it fair to judge Draco on the one interaction he had with him?

The decision was taken out of his hands when he heard a snicker from behind him.

“Think my name is funny, do you?” Draco rounded on Ron. “Well, I don’t have to guess who you are. Red hair, freckles, hand-me-down robes. You must be a Weasley,” he said derisively.

Ron flushed angrily at Draco’s words, ready to step forward and wipe the smirk off the smug prat’s face when two other boys lumbered into the compartment behind him. They were both a full head taller than him and looked like they were ready for a fight. 

“Malfoy… that name sounds familiar,” Ron replied, changing tact. “Remind me again? What was your family up to during the war?”

Now it was Draco’s turn to flush with anger as he glared daggers at Weasley. How dare this blood traitor insult his family?

Draco fought the urge to march up to the weasel and set him straight. He took a breath, reminding himself that he was here for a reason. Harry Potter was the most famous boy in the Wizarding World, and his fame and influence would only grow as he got older. If he could strike up a friendship with him now, it would be extremely useful for his future.

“Harry, as you well know, there are some families in the Wizarding World that are better than others,” Draco glared at Ron before turning back to Harry. “I think you’ll find a lot more doors open to you with a friend like me,” he said as he held out his hand.

“Thank you for that, Draco,” Harry said, not taking his hand. “I will give it some thought.”

Draco was disappointed, Potter didn’t take his hand in friendship, but it wasn’t an outright denial either. He had to remind himself that Potter was not like Crabbe or Goyle, who would fall in line just because he said so. “It was nice to meet you. Crabbe, Goyle, let’s go.”

After they left, Ron turned to Harry. “People say his father was a Death Eater in the war, you know? He only avoided Azkaban by making up a story about being under the Imperius.”

“I know, I’ve heard the rumors too,” Harry agreed. 

“Then why-” Ron started to ask.

“Why didn’t I insult him? Maybe even accuse him of being a Death Eater, too?”

“Yeah,” Ron nodded, curious why his friend would want anything to do with someone like Malfoy.

“I wouldn’t want to be judged by someone else’s actions. Would you?” Harry asked as he thought about how Fudge treated him, how he didn’t just assume he was a carbon copy of James Potter.

Ron stopped as he thought about what Harry said. What was so bad about that? The Malfoy’s were supporters of the Dark Lord, everyone knew it. 

Then he realized what Harry was trying to say. What if everyone judged him by what his brothers did? The exact thing that he was afraid would happen to him. “Alright,” Ron acknowledged with a sigh, “I don’t like it, but I get your point.” 

“I think we’re here,” Harry said as felt the train slowing down. 

“You’re right,” Ron agreed as he looked out the window. “I can see Hogwarts.”

A few minutes later, the train came to a stop, and they got off with the rest of the first years. The sky was cloudy, covering up the moon, and the only light they could see was from the lanterns attached to the boats.

“Alright, first years to the boats,” a giant of a man bellowed. “No more than two to a boat. The rest of you, make your way to the carriages.”

Harry got into a boat with Ron, watching as the rest of the first years paired up as well. Hermione and Neville took the boat beside them. Further down, Draco got in a boat with a dark-haired girl. Crabbe and Goyle also got in a boat together and they were off.  

As the clouds parted, they got their first view of the sprawling castle of Hogwarts up close. “Wicked,” Ron smiled.

Harry wished he could share Ron’s enthusiasm, but this was not his first visit to the castle. He had only escaped by the skin of his teeth the last time, and now he was going back voluntarily. Hopefully Ted had come through for him, or he would be in serious trouble. 

The boat ride took about twenty minutes, but all too soon for Harry, they arrived at the Hogwarts grounds and met by the Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall.

“The first year’s Professor,” the giant smiled.

“Thank you Hagrid,” The Professor replied. “I am Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House, and Transfiguration Professor. Welcome to Hogwarts,” she addressed the students. 

“Come this way and we will get you sorted into your houses,” she said as she led the students to the castle and into the main hall.

“We will have you sorted you into one of the four Hogwarts houses,” she explained. “Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw. Each house has a rich and storied history and produced excellent witches and wizards.”

“Your triumphs will earn you house points, and any misbehaving will cost you house points. At the end of the year, we will award the house with the most points the house cup.”

“Your houses will be like your families. You will eat together, share dormitories, and a common room,” she said as they entered the great hall to find the other students already there, waiting for them.

“When I call your names, step forward,” she instructed.

Harry looked around the hall, noting that the older students were already there and seated at their tables. When he looked at the head table, he could see the headmaster. He was talking to a professor dressed in black with greasy hair.

“They spelled the ceiling to look like the night sky,” Hermione whispered to the students standing next to her as they looked up. “I read it in Hogwarts, A History.”

“Hannah Abbot,” Professor McGonagall called. 

Harry watched as the blonde-haired girl nervously walked up to the professor and sat down on the stool.

When the Professor placed the hat on her head, he saw a mouth appear. “Better be Hufflepuff.” It shouted after a moment’s pause.

A cheer went up at the Hufflepuff table as Hannah quickly made her way to her house table and sat down.

The sorting continued in much the same way. After a few seconds, the hat would declare a house and the student would join their house table.

Next to put on the hat was Hermione Granger. Harry watched as the hat deliberated for a few moments before shouting, “Gryffindor!”

Hermione happily pulled off the hat and joined her new house.

A few students later, Harry took notice of the next name, Wayne Hopkins. He was one of the students he sponsored. The brown-haired boy walked up to the hat with a smile on his face. The hat was on his head only for a moment before it shouted, “Hufflepuff!”

Next was Draco Malfoy, the hat wasn’t even fully placed on his head before it shouted, “Slytherin.”

Harry watched as Sally Perks was called and sorted into Slytherin as well. Then it was his turn. “Harry Potter,” Professor McGonagall called.

The whispers and pointing started immediately after they announced his name. Harry walked up to the stool, sitting down. When the hat landed on his head, he heard a voice in his mind.

“Well, this is certainly interesting… not one mind, but two.”

“That is not your concern hat,” Merlin interrupted. “Perform your duties.”

“Merlin… now that is even more unexpected,” the hat replied.

Harry began to worry. Would the hat tell the headmaster? What would he say about Merlin?

“Calm yourself lad,” the hat said. “I can’t share anything we talk about with anyone else.”

“Plenty of courage I see, not a bad mind either… With goals like yours, you are certainly not lacking in ambition. Where to put you, though? Difficult. Very, very difficult.”

“You would do well in any house, really. Your passenger will certainly see to that. You cannot achieve your goals on your own, you will need others, ones that share the same courage as you, better be…”

“Gryffindor!” the hat shouted.

An even larger cheer broke out amongst the Gryffindor table as Harry sat down, and his new housemates patted him on the back, congratulating him.

Oliver Rivers got sorted into Ravenclaw next. Then it was Ron’s turn. Unlike the other students, it looked like Ron was actually arguing with the hat. A few moments later, the hat decided. “Gryffindor!”

Ron smiled as he took off the hat and joined Harry at the Gryffindor table.

After all the students were sorted into their houses, Dumbledore stood up. “Welcome to Hogwarts!” He said as he opened his arms wide. “Welcome to a new year! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. Nitwit! Blubber! Tweak!”

As he finished speaking, the food appeared on the tables, and the students cheered as they dug into the food.

Harry watched the headmaster carefully. If he had not met him previously, he would assume, just like everyone else, that the headmaster was just a kind, if not eccentric, man. 

“Alright, Harry?” Ron asked from beside him.

“Yeah,” Harry said, shaking his head as he piled some food on his plate. “… Just distracted, I guess.”

The feast continued on, with some of the students talking to the ghosts, and amongst themselves.

Harry answered a few questions about the vault, but mostly kept out of the conversations with the other students, too distracted by the thought of what Dumbledore had planned for him. He felt as if he was in the lion’s den, waiting to be pounced upon.

When everyone finished eating, the headmaster stood up to make the start of term announcements. “Now that we’ve all eaten, there are just a few start of term announcements to give you.”

“The forbidden forest is just that, forbidden for all students to enter. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to remind you that magic used in the hallways between classes is strictly forbidden. Finally, Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term, and anyone interested in trying out for their house teams should speak to Madam Hooch.”

“And now that we are all fed and watered, it is bedtime. Off you trot!”  

The headmaster watched the students leave, then made his way to his office. It was clear from the looks Harry was giving him he had a lot of work to do if he wanted to win him over. The missteps he had made early on, listening to James, had certainly made things more difficult for him.

Attempting to obliviate the boy was, in retrospect, a mistake on his part as well. He had only intended to remove the memories of Gloria’s mishaps with the media, and their subsequent conversation, then try again with the foreknowledge of what Harry would say. It had worked countless times in the past, after all. 

He had never dreamed that Harry would have been able to escape, and in such dramatic fashion as well.  

The letter he had received from Ted Tonks, Harry’s apparent solicitor, had only made things worse. He had never intended to go to the ministry with his suspicions about Harry’s wand. He only planned to use it as the proverbial stick to get him into line. Harry had overreacted and sought legal counsel, which effectively tied his hands. 

He needed to regain Harry’s confidence, some kind of assistance that he could only provide, then a suitable apology, and finally an explanation for his actions that would cast the blame back upon James.

An opportunity would present itself, it always did. 

Chapter Text

Harry woke up in the morning before the rest of his dorm mates and quietly walked past the sleeping students as he made his way to the washroom and got ready to do his training.

He couldn’t afford to slack off, especially now. While he never expected to beat Moody, he knew that he only did as well as he had due to a of a combination of luck and catching him by surprise. He would not have that same advantage next time.

His confrontation with Dumbledore had been even more one sided. He had a long way to go before he stood a chance against either men.

Having changed into his exercise clothes, Harry made his way into the common room. None of the other students were awake, yet it seemed. A quick glance at the clock told him it was just after 6 o’clock.

Harry made his way out of Gryffindor tower to the entrance hall of the castle, passing by the sleeping portraits on the way. 

He stepped outside and spent a few minutes stretching before he jogged around the lake, guessing it was about two kilometers around. 

Harry had made some improvements when he was training with Ben, but it still took him about 40 minutes to run around the lake twice, and on the second lap, he had to stop and walk for a few times to catch his breath.

Coming to a stop in front of the castle, Harry took a long drink of water and started doing his body weight training, going through his pushups, situps, and squats.

It was just after eight when Harry made his way back inside the castle and back up to the tower. When he got to his dorm, he found that his dorm mates were just starting to wake up.

Neville and Seamus were just coming out of the bathroom, Dean and Ron were just getting out of bed.

“Hey Harry, where are you coming from?” Ron asked.

“I went for a run around the lake,” Harry explained.

“Oh… why would you do that?” Ron asked in confusion. What was the point of running if you weren’t late for something?

“Physical training,” Harry explained as he made his way to the bathroom for a shower. “You better get up if you don’t want to be late.”

“Physical training?” Ron asked, as Dean just shrugged his shoulders, getting out of bed and stumbling to the bathroom, still half asleep.

A half hour later that the first years met in the common room to listen to Percy Weasley give an impromptu speech to them about Hogwarts.

“… And this is the student academic ranking,” Percy explained as he pointed to the large board in the common room. 

“It ranks every student in Hogwarts by year, and academic achievement. Every assignment, every test, and every essay is not only graded, but ranked against the other students.”

“Even if you score an Outstanding, your work will still be compared to the other students and ranked accordingly. The better you do, the higher your ranking, and the more points you will earn towards winning the house cup.”

“In my third and fourth year I ranked in the top five,” Percy said proudly. “It was one of the reasons Professor McGonagall chose me as prefect for fifth year.”

Hermione’s hand shot up. “I have a question.”

“Yes, go ahead…” Percy said, looking at the first year.

“Hermione Granger,” she answered. “How many points do we earn based on our ranking?”

“There are forty first year students this year,” Percy explained. “The top ranked student will earn 200 points, the second will earn 150 points, the third 100 points, fourth will get 80, and fifth will get 60 points,” Percy rattled off.

“After that, the points start to drop off. The fifth through tenth students get 30 points, 11th to 20th get 20 points, 21st through 25th get 10 points, and anyone below 26th gets no points.”

“So the higher we rank, the more likely we are to be chosen as prefects, then as head boy and girl?” Hermione asked.

“Yes,” Percy answered, “but it’s also a lot more than that. Your ranking will open a lot of doors for you as well. There are various internships both in the Ministry and through private businesses that take notice of your rankings.”

“If you perform well enough, and consistently you could find yourself with a very lucrative job waiting for you after you graduate.”

A gleam entered Hermione’s eyes as she glanced over at Potter. This was absolutely perfect. What better way to prove that she was the better student than the ranking? 

She could tell that Potter was just like all the other rich kids from her old school that were more interested in being popular than doing well in school. When the rankings came out, everyone would see that.

“If there are no more questions, I’ll take you to the Great Hall,” Percy explained. “Professor McGonagall will hand out your time tables during breakfast.”

Harry and the rest of the first year students followed Percy downstairs to the Great Hall as he kept a running commentary going about the various portraits and classrooms they passed along the way.

When they arrived, most of the other students had arrived, but their conversations came to a stop as they spotted Harry, then the pointing and the whispers started.

Harry did his best to ignore it as he sat down at the Gryffindor table and plated his breakfast, but the pointing and whispers weren’t just restricted to the other houses. Some of the older Gryffindor’s were doing the same as well.

Harry was not sure what to do as he overheard small snippets of what they were saying.

“Did you see what happened yesterday at the train station?”

“… Never thought a first year student could cast a shield spell that fast.”

“That’s the kid that solved Merlin’s Cypher?”

“Can you believe what his father said?”

“What about what he said?”

Harry put down his fork with a sigh as he looked at his fellow Gryffindor’s, making eye contact with some of the louder ones. This was only going to get worse if he didn’t address it now.

“You obviously have something to say,” Harry spoke to the students at his table, and clearly overheard by the rest of the hall. “Let’s have it.”

One of the older students stared at him for a moment before speaking. “I was there… when your parents showed up. I saw you use the shield spell on him.”

“And you want to know why I would do that?” Harry asked.

The older student just nodded.

“… I don’t have the best relationship with my family,” Harry explained. “We had some words, and things escalated.” He said, not wanting to go into too much details about his personal issues with his family.

“You fought on the platform? With your own family?” Hermione asked, aghast. She knew her first instinct about him was right. He was just like the spoiled and entitles kids she came to Hogwarts to get away from.

“It wasn’t like that,” another one of the first year girls, Lavender interrupted. “I heard what they said to him. They were completely out of line.”

“But it was Potter that resorted to violence,” Hermione rebutted. “There’s no room for that in a civilized society.”

“You weren’t even there,” Lavender denied. “I saw it clear as day. He cast a shield spell, not some dark curse.”

The two girls glared at each other, looking like they wanted to continue arguing, but held their tongues as Professor McGonagall started dropping off their timetables. 

Albus watched the exchange from the teacher’s table. Just like everyone else. He heard the entire conversation and couldn’t help but smirk. James Potter, taken down by a single shield spell. He knew he made the right decision by cutting times with him, and this was only proof of that.

It was bad enough to fight publicly with your own family, but then to lose the fight so decisively, Albus could only shake his head.

A different thought was running through Harry’s head as he thought about what Hermione had said, the same thought he had yesterday. Did he let his anger get the better of him?

He knew he had to use the shield spell. It was clear what would have happened to him if he didn’t, and not for the first time he considered if he should have said what he did. Would it have been better to walk away? Or was it better to give his father something to think about the next time he tried something?

It was times like this he really missed Ben. He always knew the right thing to do.

The rest of the conversations going on around Harry returned to normal after the students digested the latest piece of gossip.

Harry and the rest of the first year students made their way into the dungeons to start their first class of the year, double potions.

Their teacher was already there, waiting for them. He started by taking a roll call of the Gryffindor and Slytherin students, coming to a stop at Harry’s name. “Ah yes… our new celebrity, Harry Potter,” he said, looking pointedly at Harry.

A few of the Slytherin students hid their chuckles at the dig, while Harry wondered if the comment was based on what he did at the Vault, or what happened at breakfast.

“You are here to learn the subtle art of Potion making,” he began, his voice easily carrying throughout the classroom, effortlessly holding all the student‘s attention.

“There will be no foolish wand waving in my classroom, and you will hardly believe you are performing magic, but I assure you, for those of you capable of understanding, this is the truest form of magic there is.”

“The subtle beauty of a brewing potion, the ability to confound the senses, bewitch the mind… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stop death itself…” He said to the students now hanging on his every word. “IF you are not like the usual rabble of dunderheads, I have the misfortune of teaching.”

Silence filled the classroom at the end of Snape’s speech as the students looked at each other, wondering if they were supposed to respond. All except for Hermione, who was at the edge of her seat, looking desperate to prove herself.

“Potter!” Snape barked. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Harry, without missing a beat, replied. “A sleeping potion… the draught of the living dead.” His memory recall ability helping him with the details.

Snape’s lips curled into a sneer, “correct… but perhaps just a luck guess. Let’s try again. Where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?”

“They are most commonly found in the stomach of goats, cattle, and porcupines,” Harry answered.

“And its use?” Snape pressed. 

“It can neutralize certain poisons,” Harry replied, noticing that the professor had clearly singled him out.

“Let’s try another. What is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfsbane?” Snape asked.

This was when Harry realized that the professor Snape was not just singling him out, but also wanted to discredit him. “I don’t know, sir.”

“Evidently fame is not everything,” Snape said to the snickers of a few of the Slytherin students. “In the future, don’t expect to come into my classroom unprepared.”

By this point Hermione was waving her hand as high as she could without actually getting off her seat.

Harry narrowed his eyes at the professor. “I have read 1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi from cover to cover, and while it talks about Monkshood, it does not mention Wolfsbane anywhere.”

Snape glared down at Harry, his eyes burning with anger. “Are you suggesting that I, a Potions Master, do not know what I’m talking about?”

“No, Professor,” Harry denied. “What I’m telling you is Wolfsbane is not listed anywhere in the first year textbooks,” Harry replied, unfazed by his glare. He had certainly been on the receiving end of far worse. “But if you think I’m wrong, please show me the page about Wolfsbane, and I will be more than happy to apologize.”

Snape returned Harry’s glare, staring down at him. He knew they were the same plant, but wasn’t certain it was spelled out in the first year textbooks. As much as he wanted to put the up jumped Potter in his place, it would certainly backfire on him if he was wrong. “For your information, Potter, they are the same plant.”

“Sit down,” Snape snapped, switching targets to the easier target of Hermione who was doing everything she could to get his attention. “Why aren’t all of you writing this down?” He demanded of the rest of the students.

The rest of the students quickly pulling out parchment and quill, writing the answer as quickly as they could

Hermione slowly dropped her hand back down as her cheeks flushed in embarrassment and frustration. She had read the first, second, and third years text books already. Of course, she knew they were the same plant. She even knew that it was also called Aconite,and used in the Wideye Potion and the Wolfsbane Potion.

Potter had cost her a chance to earn some house points and improve her standing in the rankings.  

Things didn’t improve from there as Snape told them to brew the boil curing potion. He waved his wand at the chalkboard, producing a list of instructions and snapped at them to get to work. 

He then spent the class stalking between the rows, watching them weigh dried nettles, and crush snake fangs, criticizing everyone, only stopping occasionally to praise Malfoy’s work.

He was just in the middle of praising the way Malfoy stewed his horned slugs when there was a loud bang, followed by a hiss of green smoke.

Snape immediately rounded on Longbottom and Finningan, who were staring down at the melted blob that used to be Finnigan’s cauldron.

The potion had covered Longbottom from head to toe. He moaned pitifully as Snape, deducing their mistake in seconds, yelled at him. “Idiot boy! You added the porcupine quills before you took it off the fire!”

“And you, Potter, why didn’t you warn them?” Snape demanded, turning around and facing Harry. “10 points from Gryffindor!”

“Take him to the hospital wing!” Snape ordered Finnigan.

Harry wanted to argue that it was Snape that should have been watching, not him, but thought better of it from the look Ron was giving him, realizing it would only make things worse.

It was another hour later before they could finally leave the potions classroom. Harry was relieved. He had no idea how he was supposed to handle an entire year of this.

Hermione glared at Harry, finally able to speak her mind, now that she was out of class. “What were you thinking, challenging the Professor like that Potter?” She demanded. “It’s the first class of the year and we’re already down ten points.”

Harry looked back at her in surprise. Did she really not see what Snape was doing? “Look Hermione… I stand by what I said. Wolfsbane is not in the first year textbook. If you don’t believe me, look it up yourself.”

“Fine, I will,” Hermione huffed as she pushed past him. Not only would she prove him wrong, she would do it in the common room for everyone to hear.

Harry sighed as he watched her go, wondering why a few lost house points were enough to get on her bad side.

After lunch the first years moved onto their next class of the day, Charms with professor Flitwick on the third floor. The half goblin teacher was waiting for them, standing on a stack of books so that he could see over the top of his desk.

He taught them the Wingardium Leviosa spell that allowed them to levitate objects.

Harry had already read about it before the start of school and learned how to cast it successfully. He watched as the rest of his classmates attempted the spell, most of them getting the feather to roll over and move side to side, but not float into the air.

Hermione looked down at her feather, then glanced at Potter, who hadn’t even pulled out his wand yet. She already knew the incantation, and practiced it on the train, so she knew she wouldn’t have any trouble with it.

Pointing her wand at the feather, she clearly enunciated her words. “Wingardium Leviosa,” and watched triumphantly as the feather rose into the air.

“Oh look there,” Professor Flitwick said excitedly. “Miss Granger has done it, and the first one too!”

Pulling out his wand, Harry repeated the spell, sending his feather up to join Hermione’s, completely missing the glare that was being directed at him.

“And Mr. Potter has done it too! 5 points to each of you,” Professor Flitwick said happily.

After Charms class, the first years returned to the tower, talking excitedly about their first day of class.

Harry turned to walk up the stairs. There was still time to get in some more exercise before the sun went down.

“Hey Harry, where are you off to?” Dean asked curiously.

“I’m getting in some more training,” Harry explained.

“Again? Didn’t you already do that this morning?” Ron asked. 

“Yeah, but a friend of mine gave me an exercise routine to follow. I don’t want to slack off now,” Harry answered.

“That’s a waste of time,” Hermione interrupted with a scoff. “You’d be better off studying ahead.” She said, pointedly reminding him of what happened in potions class.

“Why is that?” Harry asked, wondering why Hermione seemed to have it in for him. Now that he thought about it, it started long before potions.

“Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Hermione asked. “This is a school of magic. That’s what we need to focus on, not seeing who’s the strongest or fastest.”

“… And you don’t see any connection between our magic and our bodies?” Harry asked, challenging her.

The rest of the students watched the back and forth between them. It was strange seeing Hermione, and Harry who had both been polite with everyone else, take such issue with each other.

“No,” Hermione denied. “I don’t see any connections between being able to lift heavy things, and running a little faster with learning magic. Why don’t you enlighten me?” She asked sarcastically.

Harry did his best to keep his temper under control, but Hermione was certainly making it difficult. Taking a deep breath, Harry paused for a moment. “… Our minds and our magic exist inside our bodies. They are directly linked to each other,” he said, repeating what he had learned from Merlin.

“Our bodies produce the magic we use, and our minds direct where it goes and what form it takes. If we want to perform at our absolute best, we can’t neglect one for the other.”

“And where did you learn that?” Hermione demanded. “It certainly wasn’t in any of our school books.”

“It wasn’t in any of the school books,” Harry agreed. “I met someone before the start of school that explained it to me.”

“If it was worth doing it would already be in our textbooks,” Hermione denied. The idea that some random person would know more than their actual professors seemed ridiculous to her.

Harry sighed, looking away. How was he supposed to explain that it was Merlin himself that taught him with out looking crazy?

“That’s what I thought,” Hermione smirked as she went up to her dorm room to study in peace.

Ron took in Harry’s and Hermione’s words, listening carefully. He could see where Hermione was coming from. Why wasn’t excercise mentioned in any of their school books? If it was true, wouldn’t they have a class on physical activity?

Then he thought about what Harry had done. Could that have been at least partly responsible for how Harry solved Merlin’s Cypher? Did it somehow give him a deeper understanding of magic that everyone else had missed? Was it how he performed so well in classes today?

“… Is it ok if I join you Harry?” Ron asked, coming to a decision.

“Sure Ron,” Harry replied as they both went up the stairs, leaving the rest of the first years to think about what Harry and Hermione said.

Hermione smiled at finally getting one over on Potter. She would prove he was just making up all that stuff just to look important.

Remembering what Potter had said during potions she went to her trunk and pulled out her textbook. She flipped open the glossary of 1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi, going down the list, looking for Wolfsbane.

She was annoyed to find there was no mention of Wolfsbane or even Aconite in the glossary. Opening the entry for Monkshood she skimming through it, but none of the other names were even mentioned.

She growled in frustration. There was no way that Potter could have remembered that. It must have been some kind of trick. 

Ron followed along with Harry, doing some stretches before he watched Harry mark off two lines a couple of hundred meters apart from each other.

“I usually do sprints in the evenings,” Harry explained. “We just have to run from end to end as many times as we can without stopping.”

“Seems easy enough,” Ron replied, confidently. It was just a bit of running. How hard could it be?

Harry set the pace as they ran back and forth. At first it seemed easy to Ron, and he didn’t have any problems keeping pace with Harry, but after the fifth set he had broken out into a sweat.

By the seventh set he was lagging behind Harry, and by the time he reached the 10th, he was on the ground gasping for breath.

He watched as Harry continued on. He was slower than at the start, and sweating as much as he was, but he still forced himself to keep going.  

When Harry reached the eighteenth set he dropped to the ground, gasping for breath, but happy that he had imporved on his personal best and was able to get in another two set today.

Harry got up a moment later, rembering what Ben warned him about for sitting down too long. He walking back and forth, getting his breathing back under control. He followed it up with more pushups, situps, and squats.

After Ron caught his breath he did his best to follow along with Harry, wondering what he had got himself into. It had all seemed so easy when Harry explained it, but the reality of doing the exercises was completely different. He reminded himself about what Harry told him. This was not going to be easy, it wasn’t supposed to be. He had to put in the work, just like Harry did.

After everyone went to sleep, Harry slipped into his mindscape to meet up with Merlin. He looked around the stone room of his mind. He could already see the improvements that had come about after he started eating better and exercising.

The floors and wall of his mind had smoothed out a little and were no longer jutting out in random places. 

“It’s an impressive start,” Merlin conceded. “For most it would take weeks, if not months to show these kinds of improvements.”

“It’s still looks pretty rough though,” Harry replied as he looked around at the uneven floor and walls.

“Perhaps, but now you’re ready to take control of your mindscape,” Merlin explained. “All this has been happening involuntarily, just like when you’re breathing or recovering from an injury. Your body just acts on its own.”

“Reach out with your mind, feel the walls, the floors, the ceiling,” Merlin instructed.

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated, feeling the rough and uneven texture of the stone around him.

“Good,” Merlin said, “now press on the walls, feel them smoothing out, becoming like glass.”

Harry concentrated. It was difficult, the walls resisted the change. He exerted more force, pushing harder with his mind. Then he felt it, the walls started to give, ever so slightly.

Harry opened his eyes, gasping for breath. He felt like he had run ten laps around the lake without stopping.

“Very good Harry,” Merlin praised as he and Harry examined the walls. They were still made of the same fieldstone as before, but were now noticeably smoother.

“You have taken the first step, when you wake in the morning you will be ravenous, but you will also find that your magic is much more fluid and efficient than it used to be, and it will require less of your magic to perform spells.”

“What else can we do?” Harry asked, already feeling the difference in his magic.

“Nothing else tonight, probably not for the next few days,” Merlin replied. “Your body needs energy to perform these changes, that energy comes from the food you consume. You will need to build up your reserves again before we can make any more changes. For now go to sleep and continue your physical exercises.”

Harry felt the world go dark as he drifted off into a fitfull sleep.

Seven shadowed figures gathered together in an unused classroom, their faces obscured by their hooded robes. 

“What are your assessments of the new students?” One of them asked.

“Harry Potter is an obvious candidate,” another answered. “The vault alone qualifies him.”

“Hermione Granger has shown herself to be quite intelligent as well,” another replied. “We will need to watch her closely over the next few days to confirm, but she would make an excellent candidate.”

“What of Draco Malfoy?” 

“He is a difficult choice. He may have the intelligence, but his family is… problematic. We can’t be certain of his loyalties.”

“Continue to watch him carefully…”

Chapter Text

James stood in the yard, practicing his spell work. He still couldn’t believe the boy had gotten the jump on him. He was clearly out of practice. A few years ago, that would have never happened.

It seemed like nothing had gone right for him over the last few weeks, and it was all because of the boy. Ever since he solved the damn cypher, it had caused him no end of problems.

The only reason he had gone to see Fudge in the first place was because of the boy. How was he supposed to know that Fudge would record everything he said? It had only snowballed from there, and now Albus wasn’t even speaking to him. 

Then there was the incident at the train station. He had gone there, ready to bury the hatchet with the boy. All he had to do was step up and do the right thing for the family, and the ungrateful brat couldn’t even do that much.

It wasn’t his fault that he lost his temper. Who wouldn’t be in that situation? To be disrespected like that, and in public no less? His father certainly wouldn’t have accepted that from him. Why should he?

He knew one thing for certain, though. The boy would pay for humiliating him the way he had. He got lucky, and the next time he saw him, he would make sure he knew it.

It was time for him to start planning, and to do that, he needed full access to the Potter fortune. The monthly stipend wasn’t going to cut it anymore, not for what he was planning.

He had tried speaking to the law firm, but that always led to a dead end. The legal route clearly was not working, it was time to find a less than legal route. 

Once he got access to his fortune, he could invest his money in the proper way and build his reputation back up. This whole business with Fudge was just a speed bump, and would be quickly forgotten by the public.

Albus would see that it was a mistake to turn his back on him, and would welcome him back with open arms. In time, he would even take a more active role in running the Order. 

He would also get back at Fudge for blindsiding him. With the full might of the Potter fortune behind him, and the influence he would have because of it, Fudge would be lucky to get a job as a janitor when he was through with him.

James turned around as he heard footsteps crunching on the ground behind him. It was Lily. She was holding a newspaper in her hand. James sighed, wondering what it was now.

“James,” Lily said as she held out the newspaper for him. “Take a look at this.”

James unfurled the newspaper and began to read with some trepidation.

Harry Potter Scholarship Program Announced

By E. Limus

Harry Potter, the young man who recently solved Merlin’s Cypher, has dedicated part of his winnings to establish a scholarship program for the underprivileged with a goal of helping as many children as possible to receive a magical education.

Mr. Potter has taken an unorthodox approach to the rules of his scholarship program, detailed below:

• The child’s parents/guardians must show they are unable to afford the costs of a Hogwarts education
• The child must maintain a minimum standard of acceptable across all of their classes by the end of term to continue into the following year
• The scholarship must be awarded to three students per year (with a goal of expanding to more students in the future)
• The scholarship program will provide all uniforms/equipment/books to the students for each year of Hogwarts attended.

The first rule is fairly standard across all scholarship programs, but it deviates quite a lot from there. 

The other scholarship programs I was able to research before the printing of this article set the minimum standard of Exceeds Expectations, some even as high as Outstanding.

A few even went so far as to require repayment of the scholarship in full if the student failed to meet or exceed the grade requirement.

The mandate to award the scholarship to a minimum of three students per year has never been done before, so there is little to compare it to in that regard.

On average, a scholarship is awarded once every ten years to a single student, and none of the scholarships I have reviewed provide uniforms, equipment, or books.  

This stipulation, along with the grade requirement, has put the scholarship students at a distinct disadvantage, which has resulted in a dropout rate of 80% in the first year alone.

The recipients for this year have already been chosen, but in the summer of next year the scholarship program will be open to apply for again. 

Many of the standard scholarship programs available in Britain also allow students to apply every year, but have various stipulations and rules dictating who is eligible to apply and an extensive vetting process to make sure the chosen recipient meets with the expectations of the program administrators.

To apply for the Harry Potter Scholarship Program, perspective students are required to write an essay detailing what it means to them to be awarded the scholarship, along with what their plans are after completing their Hogwarts education.

James finished reading the article, his brows crinkled in confusion. Why was the boy bothering to give out three scholarships when only one was required for the tax right off, and awarding them every year? It was madness.

“This is just a waste of money,” James concluded. “We can use this to show he’s too immature to manage his money properly.”

“James,” Lily said, shaking her head. “He isn’t doing this for the money.”

“What do you mean? It has to be about 6000 galleons a year, right?” James asked.

“More,” Lily replied. “Every year there will be three new students the scholarship will pay for. By his 7th year it will be 42,000 galleons a year.”

“So he’ll be out of money in about ten years,” James agreed.

“No, he still has the rest of his money to invest with,” Lily reminded him. “That’s more than enough to cover the cost of his scholarship.”

“Then why’s he doing it?” James said, getting impatient.

“He’s doing it to build up his reputation. Everyone will believe that he’s doing this to help the poor. If we try to go after his prize money now, how’s that going to make us look?” Lily asked. 

James nodded, conceding the point. It seemed that the boy had some brains, after all.

“What happened at the train station can’t happen again,” Lily warned. “Far too many people saw what happened. It’s the absolute last thing we need before going in front of the Wizengamot.”

“You saw how he treated us,” James replied angrily. “My father never would have put up with that.”

“Yes, he would,” Lily denied. “From what I remember about your father, he didn’t act unless there was something he could gain from it, and I know you’re angry with him, so am I, but we have to be patient like your father was, and wait for the right opportunity.”

“…You’re right,” James finally conceded. “You’re right. We’ll get this business with the Wizengamot sorted out, and then we’ll deal with the boy.”

Hermione glanced smugly at Potter, before focusing back on her own work again. They were in the middle of their first transfiguration class, and he wasn’t even paying attention. 

While everyone else was focusing on turning their matchsticks into needles, Potter was just looking around, confused. He didn’t even have his wand out.

It was only a matter of time before Professor McGonagall noticed, and marked him down for it. 

Harry looked around the classroom in confusion. There was something strange, almost like a buzzing feeling, that was distracting him. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, or even where it was coming from, but he had missed most of the Professor’s lecture because of it. 

“Look here, class,” Professor McGonagall praised. “Miss Granger almost has it. She has turned her matchstick silver. A little more practice and you’ll have it. Keep up the good work.”

Hermione beamed at the compliment. As she looked around, she could tell no one else was even close. Aside from Weasley’s matchstick looking slightly more pointy, everyone else’s looked about the same.

“Mr. Potter, where is your wand?” Professor McGonagall asked as she walked up to his desk.

Hermione looked on, doing her best to not make it look obvious. This was the moment she had been waiting for.

“… Sorry Professor,” Harry replied. “I was a little distracted,” he said as he flicked his wrist, releasing his wand from its holster..

“Mr. Potter, when you are in my class, I expect you to pay attention. That will be five points from Gryffindor,” McGonagall said.

“Yes, Professor, it won’t happen again,” Harry replied. 

“If you would, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said as he gestured to his needle. “I would like to see how much attention you actually paid.”

Harry stared at the matchstick intently. He knew there was no incantation. The transfiguration book said that it was just a matter of focusing on the end result and keeping a clear picture in your mind of what you wanted. 

“You remember everything you have ever seen,” Merlin reminded. “Just focus on the image and push your magic through the wand.”

“I’m waiting, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall reminded him, inadvertently drawing the attention of the rest of the class. 

Harry nodded, focusing intently on the picture of the needle in his mind. The sharp point on the tip, the length, the loop on the end the string was fed through, and the shine of the metal it was made from.

Harry let his magic flow through his arm, into his wand, where he focused and refined it, then released it. He watched as his magic enveloped the match, replacing it with a perfectly formed needle.

Professor McGonagall’s eyes widened as she stared down at the match Potter had just transfigured. She picked it up, looking at it from every angle, even testing the sharpness of its point.

“Very impressive Mr. Potter,” McGonagall praised. “A perfect needle. Take five points for Gryffindor,” she said, returning the points that she had removed earlier.

“See if you can help Mr. Weasley,” McGonagall instructed. “He seems to be getting close,” she said as she pointed to the slightly silver and pointy matchstick on his desk.

Hermione huffed as she watched the Professor award the points to Potter. He had probably hired a tutor before he even started Hogwarts. He certainly had the money for it, but she had gotten closer than anyone else in class without any of that. 

Hermione resolved to study even more. She and Potter were not that far apart. It would only be a matter of time before she caught up with him.

“How’d you do that, Harry?” Ron exclaimed. “I didn’t even see you practice once.”

“You just have to focus on the details, Ron,” Harry explained. “Not just one of them, but all of them at once.”

Ron nodded, along with a few of their other classmates who were listening in. He realized he was more focused on the matchstick becoming thinner than the color or the point at the end. 

He cast the spell again, and noticed the matchstick was noticeably more silver now, and had a sharper point at the end than before. He looked over at Harry’s needle, focusing on the eye of the needle this time, and cast the spell again. 

Ron smiled as he stared down at his work. It wasn’t a needle yet, but it was getting there.

Harry looked around the Great Hall during lunch. He felt it again, that buzzing feeling that had been bothering him all day, but he was no closer to figuring out what was, or where it was coming from. 

‘Merlin, do you feel that?’ Harry thought. 

‘I do,’ Merlin replied. ‘I’ve been trying to find out where it’s been coming from since this morning.’

‘What is it?’ Harry asked, curiously.

‘It’s magic, but not the normal background magic for a place like this. Whatever is giving off that magic, it doesn’t belong here.’ 

‘We’ll work on honing your magical sense tonight and see if we can pinpoint where it’s coming from.’

Draco watched as Potter looked around, clearly confused, before finally sitting back down. What the heck was he doing? He had watched Potter over the last few days. He was clearly very capable. 

After potions class yesterday, he looked up what Potter said about Wolfsbane. He was right. For whatever reason, the author had omitted it from the book. He knew he wasn’t the only one that came to that same conclusion if Granger’s attitude today was anything to go by. 

At first he had thought Potter had done what all purebloods do before Hogwarts. Hire a qualified tutor to teach them the basics, so that they would have a leg up in the student rankings, but even the most strict tutor would not expect him to memorize the entire book.

Potter clearly had, because remembering what was in a book is one thing, remembering what was not in a book was something else entirely.

Draco remembered what his father told him… no, demanded, Draco corrected himself. He had to be at the top of the student rankings.

His father hired for him the best tutors money could buy, and they had spent the last six months teaching him everything he needed to know to climb to the top of the student rankings.

He had watched Potter brew the boil curing potion, his finished product was easily one of, if not the best in the class, and if the rumors were to be believed, he had also transfigured his matchstick into a perfect needle on his first attempt. 

If something didn’t change, and soon, Potter would secure the number one spot in the ranking.

Ron sat across from Harry in the Great Hall, playing a game of chess. It was a short day today, so they still had some time before doing their evening exercises.

He was still a little stiff and sore from the exercises yesterday and this morning, but he couldn’t argue with the results. When he went to bed that night, he fell asleep almost immediately, instead of staying up late like he usually did, causing him to feel sleepy for most of the morning.

Now that he had a decent night’s sleep, it was much easier to concentrate in class. There was an immediate difference in his spell work, and how quickly he understood what the Professors were teaching him.

Yesterday he was near the bottom of the class, and today he was closer to the middle of the pack. He had a feeling it would only improve with time.

Ron refocused his attention back on the chessboard. This was their third game, and he had won the previous three, but Harry was learning fast, already picking up on his strategies and learning to counter them.

Harry stared down at the board, studying his pieces. Ron clearly had a talent for chess. It seemed like he was always three steps ahead of him. 

Ron moved his pawn two spaces forward, making the first move, followed a moment later by Harry moving his bishop four spaces.

They had gathered a small crowd of students as they played. Harry had improved with each game, but it was clear to the students watching that Ron was the superior player.

Ron moved his pawn diagonally, taking Harry’s pawn. “Your move.”

“You should have seen that one coming,” Merlin chided. “I can help you know. The child is talented for his age, but I’ve played for decades.”

“No thanks, I want to do this on my own,” Harry denied.

Harry looked down at the board again, then smiled when he saw an opportunity to go on the offensive for once. He moved his bishop to take Ron’s knight.

“Wow Ron,” Harry said, impressed as they continued to play. “You’re really good at this. Do you already have the entire game already planned out?”

“Not the entire game,” Ron boasted modestly. “But I am thinking a few moves ahead.”

“Who taught you to play?” Harry asked curiously. 

“My grandfather,” Ron explained. “He was the one that gave me the chess set, actually.”

Ron moved his bishop out, followed by Harry moving out his Knight.

Draco watched from his house table as the game progressed. He didn’t feel the need to crowd around like the other students, who had nothing better to do, but he was still able to get a clear view of the game. 

As he watched them play, it forced him to reevaluate his opinion of the Weasley. It was easy to dismiss him on the train as being a fool, and their first day of classes hadn’t exactly disproven that, but today there was a definite improvement.

Between Granger, Weasley, and Potter, he had his work cut out for him if he wanted to impress his father and take the top ranking.

Ron moved his bishop. Seeing an opportunity to put some pressure on Harry, he took his pawn. “Checkmate,” Ron smiled.

“You’re improving,” Ron observed as Harry moved his knight to block.

Hermione glanced up from the Daily Prophet she was reading from her side of the Gryffindor table. She knew the basics of chess, but had little interest in playing herself. She was always more interested in reading.

Hermione had just finished reading the latest article praising Harry Potter. It was obviously a puff piece meant to put him in a good light, but even so, she had to concede it was a nice thing to do, regardless of his motives for it.

Ron got a bit more aggressive with his next move, and used his rook to capture Harry’s knight, putting him back in check.

Harry studied the board carefully as he thought about what to do next. A moment later, he saw a chance to make up some ground, and took Ron’s rook with his own, and also getting himself out of check.

Ron contemplated his next move carefully. This was the closest of their three games, and if he wasn’t careful, Harry could win this one. He moved his remaining rook to the right side of his board. 

Harry took a moment to weigh the risk, but ultimately decided to move his queen forward. He wasn’t going to beat Ron by playing it safe.

Seeing another opportunity to keep up the pressure, Ron moved his rook, taking Harry’s bishop, and putting him back in check again.

Harry stared at Ron, then down at the board again. He was picking up on Ron’s strategies, but Ron had kept him on the defensive for the entire game. There had to be a way for him to go on the offensive at least once. There, he saw it. He moved his knight to take Ron’s bishop. 

Ron smiled inwardly. Harry had fallen neatly into his trap. He moved his queen forward, putting Harry’s King in check once again.

“He’ll have you in two moves,” Merlin observed.

Ignoring Merlin, Harry moved his knight to take Ron’s queen. 

Then he saw what Merlin was talking about. Ron had outmaneuvered him. He could only watch as Ron moved his rook, checkmating his king, and bringing the game to an end. 

“Good game Ron,” Harry smiled. 

“Good game Harry, you were doing a lot better on this last game,” Rom complimented as the small crowd around them applauded politely.

“Do you mind if I have a go?” A Ravenclaw seventh year student said, from the crowd of watching students.  

“Sure, I don’t mind,” Ron said as Harry moved over to give the seventh year some room.

“My name is Andre Egwu,” the dark-skinned wizard introduced himself and extended his hand for Ron to shake.

“Ron Weasley,” Ron replied, shaking his hand.

Harry and the other students watched as the game progressed. Both players moved their pieces at a much faster pace. Neither one spent more than a few moments looking at the board before they made their next move.

In just under ten minutes, both of them were down to their last few pieces, and in the end, it was Ron that eked out the victory.

“Good game, Ron,” Andre complimented as he stood up and shook Ron’s hand again. 

“You too,” Ron agreed.

“Maybe we can have another match in the future,” Andre said as he went back to his table.

“Wow Ron, you’re really good at this. How long have you been playing?” Harry asked curiously.

“I’ve been playing since I was… six,” Ron said, thinking about it for a minute.

“You know, this can easily translate over to other skills,” Harry observed. “Have you ever thought about joining the dueling circuit? I think they have a junior league.”

“I never really thought about it,” Ron admitted. “How would chess help with dueling, exactly?”

“For dueling, the most important thing is predicting what your opponent is going to do next. If you can do that, you can control the entire duel.” Harry recited what Merlin had told him previously. 

“Thanks Harry,” Ron smiled. Maybe this was something he could do to stand out. None of his brothers dueled professionally.

“I know that we have only just started the term, but I would like to hear your impressions of the first-year students,” Albus asked the heads of house.

“I think there are some very strong students this year,” Minerva answered. “With my Gryffindors the standout is obviously Harry Potter,” she said to the nods of Filius and Pomona.

“His spell work is flawless, and he has a very good understanding of the curriculum already. I would not be surprised if he secures the top spot in the student rankings.”

“Hermione Granger is also a top student. She has obviously read her text books ahead of time, and her spell work is definitely above average. She is usually one of the first students to correctly perform a spell.”

“Of my Ravenclaws, the one that has impressed me the most is Oliver Rivers. He has a singular focus on learning as much as he possibly can. He’s devoted much of his free time to making sure he has his assignments completed, and his spell work mastered. If he keeps it up, he will easily become one of the top students as well,” Filius added.

“As I recall, he is a recipient of Mr. Potter’s scholarship fund, is he not?” Albus asked.

“He is,” Filius confirmed. “I had a chance to speak with him earlier today. He’s planning on teaching the rest of the children in the orphanage what he’s learned. That’s why he’s working so hard on his studies now. He’s even invited me to come to the orphanage to speak to the children this summer,” he smiled proudly.

“That’s wonderful,” Pomona smiled, which was quickly echoed by Minerva and Albus. “I can say the same for one of my students, Wayne Hopkins. He’s also a recipient of the Harry Potter Scholarship. He’s keen to learn, perhaps not as much natural talent as some of the other first years, but his determination will easily make up for that,” she praised.

“The obvious stand out for me is Draco Malfoy,” Severus praised. “He has obviously been taught the first year material ahead of time, and his work in my class has been excellent, thus far.”

“Good, good,” Albus praised. “Are there any problem students we need to be aware of?”

“Aside from the usual suspects, it’s a little early for that, Albus. Some students are just nervous. We should have a better idea of that in the coming weeks,” Minerva replied.

“Thank you then, for indulging me,” Albus said, dismissing them. “Severus, if you wouldn’t mind staying behind, there is a personal matter I would like to discuss with you.”

When they were both sure the other professors had left, Severus turned to Albus. “I assume this is about the Potter boy?”

“Yes,” Albus nodded. “I would like to get your first impression of him.”

 “The boy has a certain amount of arrogance to him, not nearly as much as his father, but it’s still there,” Severus answered.

“Oh?” Albus prompted.

“He challenged me in class,” Severus explained. “He tried to correct me on the contents of one of the potion reference books,” he said, omitting that the boy had turned out to be correct.

“I see,” Albus said, “and the other thing I asked of you?”

“I put as much pressure on him as I could without making it obvious,” Severus answered. “The boy has read the texts and retained a good amount of the information,” he praised reluctantly.

“I would like for you to continue,” Albus ordered.

“What is the point of all this Albus?” Severus asked. “I hardly see the need to put this much effort into forcing a meeting with a first year.”

“He isn’t just any first year,” Albus explained. “When the time comes, he will make an excellent recruit for the order, so we must do what we can to ensure he remains out of the clutches of Fudge, or the dark families.”

Harry stood inside of his mind with Merlin, staring at the walls of the stone room. As far as he could tell, there were no changes since last time.

“Don’t expect any major changes for some time, Harry,” Merlin chided. “Even with me teaching you, it will be a slow process.”

“What was it I felt today?” Harry asked, thinking about the buzzing feeling he had felt throughout the day. 

“There is something within the school that is leaking magic, and a fair amount of it as well,” Merlin explained.

“Leaking magic?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Merlin nodded. “An enchanted object is imbued with magic, and overtime the object can become damaged, either due to wear and tear, or physical damage. When this happens, the object leaks magic until it eventually becomes inert,” he explained.

“The curious thing is, this object should be leaking magic consistently, but it’s intermittent, and the magical leak should slow down over time, but it remains steady. This means the object was likely designed to expel magic for some purpose.”

“What do you think it is?” Harry asked.

“I’m not sure. We will have to find it to learn that.”

“Ok, how do we start?” Harry asked.

“The first step is to detect your own magic,” Merlin explained. “Close your eyes, and concentrate on looking inward. When you feel your magic, you will know.”

Harry closed his eyes, following Merlin’s instructions as best as he could, but he couldn’t really feel anything.

“Concentrate, Harry, start by identifying what you can, and move forward from there.”

Harry felt his lungs first, as he breathed in and out, the air coming in, then being expelled back out. He felt his chest moving with each breath, then he concentrated on his heartbeat as his blood pumped through his veins. 

Then he felt something different, a spark. It was only for a moment, then it was gone again.

“Good, concentrate on the spark, Harry,” Merlin praised. “That’s what you’re looking for.”

Harry delved deeper within himself, searching for the spark again. He was able to hold on to it a little longer this time, before it disappeared. 

“Keep trying Harry,” Merlin instructed. “You were much closer that time.”

This time, when Harry searched for the spark, he was able to find it and hold on to it. It felt warm, welcoming.

“That’s it Harry, that’s your magic,” Merlin explained. “The next part is a little tricky. Everything that generates or uses magic resonates with the magic around them.”

“You need to nudge your magic, basically push it outwards. When you do, you will feel the other magics pushing against it.” 

Harry did what Merlin instructed, nudging his magic, picturing it vibrating in his mind’s eye. Then he felt it. Waves of his magic rippled outwards, and he could feel five distinct objects pressing against his magic.

“Your dorm mates,” Merlin explained.

“That’s neat,” Harry smiled. “But I’m not sure how it’s going to help. I still can’t tell one from the other, and with all the other students in the school, how am I supposed to find the thing we’re looking for?”

“That will take time and require practice,” Merlin explained. “The more you use this skill, the longer your range will become, and the more details you will notice. I suggest you practice whenever you can.”

“The object we’re looking for is powerful, and will push harder against your own magic than your dorm mates. That will help us find it.”

Chapter Text

Harry looked around the Great Hall as he ate his breakfast, casting his magic outwards, working on expanding his range and seeing what he could detect. It was a little draining to do, but he could cast his magic out continuously for about two or three minutes before he felt a strain.

Merlin told him it was also a good way to increase the fluidity of his magic and increase the speed at which he could cast spells.

It had been a week since the start of term and he was finally getting the hang of magic detection. He could feel the magic surrounding him at a distance of about four feet in all directions, and he was slowly recognizing the individual magics of the people he knew.

He could to tell when someone was about to cast a spell by the expansion of their magic and its movement to their wand. 

With some time and practice, it would give him a split second advantage over his opponents in a duel. He could even differentiate between the various spells they would cast.

The strange magic he and Merlin were looking for remained elusive. Even after exploring all the common areas of the castle, they still couldn’t find it. Merlin believed someone was carrying the item with them, or it could move on its own.

“Hi Harry, can we talk to you for a few minutes?” Wayne Hopkins asked, getting his attention..

“Oh, sure,” Harry said as he looked up, immediately recognizing the three scholarship students, Wayne, Sally, and Oliver.

“We just wanted to thank you for what you’re doing,” Sally began. “It means a lot to us.”

“I’m glad I could help,” Harry smiled. 

“Can I ask you something, Harry?” Oliver asked nervously.

“Sure,” Harry nodded. “You can ask me anything you like.”

“Why?” Oliver asked. “Why us? You don’t even know who we are.”

“I want you to have the same opportunity I got,” Harry answered simply.

“It doesn’t feel real,” Wayne added. “Sometimes I expect to wake up back in the orphanage, and for all this to be a dream.”

“It’s not a dream. No one’s going to pull the rug out from under you. As long as you maintain at least an average grade of acceptable, the scholarship will cover all seven years of Hogwarts for all of you,” Harry promised.

“You’re wondering why you got this chance instead of someone else.” Harry realized, noticing the look on Oliver’s face. It was the same look he had when he first met Ben. “Maybe even someone that deserved it more than you did?”

Oliver noddeed.

“I used to think that way too,” Harry admitted. “I know what it feels like when the whole world seems to be against you.” 

“What?” Sally asked in surprise. “What do you mean?” How could Harry ever feel that way, especially after everything he had done?

“For a long time I felt invisible, like no one cared, and no matter how hard I tried, it didn’t matter because nothing ever changed.” Harry said, remembering what it was like growing up in Potter manor.

Sally looked at Harry in shock, a look mirrored by both Oliver and Wayne. How could he know how they felt? He grew up in a pureblood house. He should have lived the life every kid dreamed of, but when she looked into Harry’s eyes she saw it, the same pain she felt reflected back at her. “… What happened to you? How did you move past it?” 

“… I don’t really like to talk about what happened before, or even think about it, really,” Harry admitted. “It’s a part of my life I’d rather leave behind. But what I can tell you is, I didn’t do it alone. Someone saw me, he could tell I was in a bad situation, and instead of looking away, or pretending I didn’t exist, he took a chance on me. He didn’t ask for anything in return, not even after I opened the vault. He only asked me to help the next person I met who needed it.”

“That’s why I started the scholarships, to pay back the debt I owe him. To make what he said to me real.”

“What did he tell you?” Oliver asked, feeling the weight of each of Harry’s words.

“To treat the world the way it should be, to show it what it can be,” Harry repeated Ben’s words. 

The three scholarship students, along with quite a few of the Gryffindor students, felt their eyes well up after Harry finished speaking.

“… How are you settling in at Hogwarts?” Harry asked, noticing the three students had gone silent.

“Everything is great,” Oliver replied with a smile and a renewed sense of purpose. “We’re learning so much. I’ve been making notes about everything the Professors are teaching us. During the summer holidays, we’re going to teach the other kids in the orphanage what we learned.”

“That’s a great idea,” Harry replied enthusiastically. “I didn’t even think about that. If you need any supplies, parchment, ink, let me know, and I’ll make sure the orphanage gets them.”

Sally reached out impulsively, hugging Harry. “Thank you Harry, thank you so much!” She gushed.

Harry stiffened at the unexpected hug, then patted her back awkwardly, feeling a little out of his depth.

Sally blushed as she pulled away from Harry, and returned with the other scholarship students to their house tables. She hadn’t meant to get emotional, and now Harry probably thought she was weird.

Ron, who had remained quiet throughout the exchange, stiffened when he saw the Slytherin girl reach out for Harry. What was she up to? He knew what his brothers said about them, how they lied to and bullied other students, how they followed the dark lord during the war, and his father’s many run-ins with Lucius Malfoy only confirmed it. 

He wanted to call her out on it for taking advantage of Harry like that, but as he looked around, he had a moment of understanding. If he said anything now, he would look like the bad guy. He realized that he would have to keep an eye on Perks.

Hermione watched the exchange between Potter and his scholarship students. Listening to what Sally, Wayne, and Oliver said made her realize that the situation with Potter was more complicated than she originally thought.

Potter started the scholarship program to get a tax write off, and the good publicity that came with it, but she had to acknowledge that it wasn’t the sole reason. Regardless of how she felt about him, or his reasons for doing it, he was helping people.

Draco looked on from the Slytherin table. The hall had gone silent, listening in on what Potter was saying, thirsty for the latest gossip about Hogwart’s resident ‘celebrity.’ He already knew what his father would say about all of it, ‘foolish sentimental drivel, a waste of time and money.’

But he knew Potter was nobody’s fool. His top spot on the student rankings was certainly proof of that. He obviously had a reason for doing what he did, and it wasn’t for the sake of helping others. He didn’t know what Potter was up to, but he would find out.

He looked over at Perks as she sat down. He hadn’t even bothered talking to her. There was no reason to. For all intents and purposes, she was a muggle born. She had no family connections or wealth to speak of. Neither did Hopkins and Rivers, but Potter saw some value in them, something that everyone else overlooked. 

The Gryffindor’s and Slytherin’s milled about the DADA classroom excitedly. In the previous classes, they learned about Pixies, Banshees, and Ghouls. This would be the first time they would actually cast a spell.

Harry sat down beside Ron as they waited for Professor Green to arrive. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something about Ron seemed off. He was quieter than usual, distracted. Just as he was about to ask, the Professor walked in.

“Alright, everyone settle down,” Professor Olivia Green said as she walked into the classroom. “I know you’re all excited about casting your first spells, so let’s get started.”

“Everyone, step away from your desks,” Professor Green said, waving her wand and pushing the desks against the far wall. “Now pick a spot on the wall and repeat after me, Flipendo.”

Olivia watched, making a mental note when the students cast their spells. Most of them could only produce a light blue color at the tip of their wand that quickly fizzled out afterwards, all fairly normal for first year students. 

Granger, Malfoy, and Weasley were on the right track. They could cast the spell. It only traveled a couple of feet before it petered out, but they were further along than their peers. 

The obvious standout was Potter, which came as no surprise. The other professors had already mentioned he was far ahead of the other students. 

He cast the spell correctly on the first attempt. His spell grouping was tight, and far more accurate than his peers. “Very well done, Mr. Potter, five points to Gryffindor,” she congratulated him. “Can you share your process with the class?” 

“… I just point my wand where I want the spell to land, and concentrate on what I want the spell to do,” Harry explained. He hadn’t really given it much thought before. 

 “Exactly,” Professor Green agreed. “The difference between a spell that succeeds and a spell that fails is intent and focus. Mr. Potter intended for the spell to hit the wall, and he focused his magic on achieving it. You can all see the results for yourselves,” she said to the rest of the class.

“Everyone, try the spell again. This time, focus on what you want to happen, not just the words and the wand movements,” Professor Green instructed. 

“Much better,” she said after Granger, Malfoy, and Weasley all hit the wall on their fourth and fifth attempts. “Five points to each of you. Keep practicing. By the end of class, I expect all of you to cast the spell correctly,” she said to the rest of the class.

Lavender whispered to Parvati, “Did you see that? Harry just cast the spell, without even doing the wand movements that time.”

“I know,” Parvati whispered back, “that’s how they do it on the dueling circuit.” 

“What?” Lavender asked. “I thought the spell wouldn’t work without the wand movements.”

“My dad said if you cast the spell enough times, your magic gets used to casting it,” Parvati remembered. “The better you get at it, the less wand movements you need, and the faster you can get the spells off.”

“Remember what he said to Hermione?” Lavender asked, “about exercising? Do you think that’s why he’s learning everything so fast?” 

“Maybe,” Parvati thought about it. “Ron started exercising with him last week and his grades started going up after that.”

“That must be it,” Lavender nodded.

“Do you think he’d let us exercise with him, too?” Parvati asked, biting her lip as she watched Harry cast the spell again. He was casting his spells noticeably faster than everyone else now, and on top of that, his spells moved across the room faster than everyone else’s as well.

“Maybe,” Lavender replied hopefully as she went back to casting her own spell. “We should ask him.”

“Mr. Potter,” the Professor said, walking up to him. “I think you’re ready for the more advanced version of the spell.”

“More advanced version?” Harry asked curiously.

“Yes, I want you to hold the spell on the tip of your wand, but don’t release it until I tell you,” she instructed.

Harry nodded. “Flipendo,” he cast the spell, but held it back. He could feel his magic straining, trying to push forward. He could feel the tension increase the longer he held it.

The rest of the class watched curiously as the spell color changed from a light blue to a purple, then slowly turned red. 

“Release the spell now!” Professor Green ordered.

Harry unleashed the spell and watched along with the rest of the class as it rocketed across the room, much faster than when he cast it normally and struck the wall with a resounding bang.

“Very good, Mr. Potter, take another five more points for Gryffindor,” the Professor smiled. “For the rest of the class, I want you to work on reducing the time to charge the spell.”

“That was the advanced form of the Flipendo,” she instructed the rest of the class. “Did you notice how the spell color changed the longer Mr. Potter held it?” She asked to the nods of the Gryffindors and Slytherin’s.

“That’s what happens when you charge up your spells. It not only adds more magic to the spell, but it also compacts the magic into a smaller and smaller space, so when you release it, the spell is much more powerful.” 

“Keep in mind that it’s a double-edged sword. The longer you hold the spell, the more magic you use, and the more dangerous it becomes to you. The pressure will continue to build and it will become harder and harder for you to control it. If you hold it too long, the spell could backfire, hitting you instead of your opponent.”

“That’s why I don’t want any of you to charge your spells without my express permission and supervision. Is that clear?” She asked the class.

“Yes Professor,” the class replied.

“Good,” Professor Green smiled. “Now off you go, it’s time for lunch,” she dismissed them.

Hermione and Draco watched with no small amount of envy as Harry continued to rack up house points, widening the gap in the student rankings even further.

‘Someone has definitely trained him,’ Draco thought, ‘but who?’ His father had hired the best tutors that money could buy, but clearly, whoever taught Potter was much better. How long had he trained for? Years?

Hermione was thinking along a similar line. She was second place in the rankings, just edging out Malfoy, but as much as she studied, she was still behind Potter. This was an unfamiliar experience for her. Before she came to Hogwarts, she was always at the top of the class. She had thought it would be the same here, but so far, it hadn’t happened. She studied twice as much as she did before, only to get second place. 

It would be one thing if Potter worked as hard as she did, but between playing chess with Ron, the silly exercises he insisted on doing, and whatever else he got up to, he spent less than a third of the time studying than she did. It wasn’t fair.

As she walked down the hall with the rest of the class to the Great Hall, one of the older students approached her. “Hello, Hermione Granger, right? Do you mind if we talk for a few minutes? My name is Beatrice Haywood.”

Hermione recognized the name immediately. She was a third year Hufflepuff, and also the top ranked student for her year. “Ok, what’s this about?” Hermione asked.

“I’m a member of a study group of sorts,” Beatrice explained as she led Hermione into an unused classroom. “We keep an eye out for like-minded students who have the same drive and determination to learn and succeed that we do.”

“You’ve really impressed us with how well you’ve done so far,” Beatrice complimented. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but the pureblood families usually tutor their children for up to a year before they even start Hogwarts, so it’s pretty common to see them take the first five ranks.”

“That explains so much,” Hermione realized. This was why Potter did as well as he did. He knew all the material ahead of time and had an extra year to prepare.

“Yes,” Beatrice agreed. “My mother is a muggle born, and my father is a half blood, so we couldn’t afford the expensive tutors the purebloods like to hire.”

“In my first year, it took me until Christmas before I even broke the top five in the student ranking. That was when the study group took notice of me,” she continued. “With their help, I got to number two by the end of my first year, and I held the top spot for my second and third year,” she finished proudly.

“We want to give you that same opportunity, Hermione,” Beatrice said. “Do you want to take your education to the next level?”

Hermione was so excited she wanted to jump for joy. This is exactly what she needed. She was positive that she could beat Potter in no time, with Beatrice’s help. “I would love to,” Hermione beamed.

“Good,” Beatrice smiled. “Meet me in the library tonight after dinner, and I can introduce you to the rest of the group.”

Hermione returned to her house table for lunch happily. She had a plan now. She would learn everything she could from Beatrice and the rest of the study group, then she would overtake Potter and become the top student for her year in no time.

Harry watched as Ron stumbled through his exercises. He was obviously distracted. When they finished their run around the lake, he broached the subject.

“Ron, what’s going on?” Harry asked bluntly.

“What do you mean, Harry?” Ron asked, pretending to not know what he was talking about. 

“You know what,” Harry denied. “You’ve been distracted all day. What’s going on?”

Ron looked at Harry, trying to think of what to say. “… Look Harry, I know you’re doing this scholarship thing to help people… but are you? I mean, how do you know they’re the right ones to help?”

“Right ones to help?” Harry asked, confused. “What do you mean?” 

“… That Sally girl, she’s a Slytherin,” Ron replied. “I know when you gave her the scholarship, you didn’t know where she was going to be sorted, but now…”

“So that’s where this is coming from,” Harry realized. “You think because of where she got sorted that she’s going to turn out evil?”

“It’s the same house the Dark Lord was sorted into, and where all his followers came from,” Ron replied.

“Did you know that my mother and father are from Gryffindor?” Harry asked. 

“Yeah, of course. Everyone knows that. What does that have to do with anything?” Ron asked.

“… Well, they’re not the people everyone thinks they are,” Harry admitted. “They didn’t treat me very well growing up. The day before I opened Merlin’s vault, they threw me out of the house, and it wasn’t the first time either. For most of my life, a house-elf took care of me,” Harry answered. “Our houses are just that, our houses. They don’t decide who we are, or if we’re good or bad.”

“… Harry, I didn’t know about all that,” Ron replied. “I just think… why take the risk, you know?”

“Let me tell you about Sally,” Harry replied. “She’s a half-blood, on her mother’s side, and muggle born on her father’s side. Her parents were both Ravenclaws, and the Death Eaters killed them during the war. Sally lives with her aunt in the muggle world. They do okay, but they don’t have the kind of money it takes to go to Hogwarts.”

“…” Ron didn’t know what to say to that. It was a lot easier to think of them as a bunch of snakes when he didn’t know anything about them.

“I know you’re just looking out for me, Ron, and I appreciate that,” Harry added. “But if you make judgments about people that haven’t done anything wrong, and then punishing them for it, what do you think they’re going to do?”

Ron looked down at the ground, thinking about what Harry was asking of him. Everything he knew about the Slytherin’s, everything that happened during the war, it was all telling him he shouldn’t trust any of them.  “….”

“I’ll tell you what, Ron,” Harry offered. “You make an effort to get to know her, a real effort, and after that, if you still think there’s something wrong, I’ll listen.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Ron asked. 

“That’s up to you,” Harry shrugged. “Talk to her, play a few games of chess with her, offer to study with her. It’s up to you.”

“Alright, alright,” Ron said with a sigh. “I’ll give it a try.” He supposed it wouldn’t be too bad to talk to her for a just a few minutes, if only to show Harry the truth.

Just as they finished up their exercises, they saw someone walking up to them from the castle. It was the Ravenclaw that Ron had a game of chess with last week, Egwu.

“Hello again, Harry, Ron,” he greeted them. “A few of your year mates said that I would probably find you out here. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

“Sure. What did you want to talk about?” Harry asked.

“I’m part of a study group, and we usually keep an eye out for talented students,” Andre explained. “It was pretty impressive how you got the top spot for your year, Harry, and for you Ron, to climb the rankings as quickly as you did.”

“I wanted to extend an invitation for both of you to join us,” Andre offered.

“So… you all just study together?” Ron asked.

“It’s a lot more than that,” Andre explained. “We’re a group of students from all four of the houses. We help each other with any classes the others are struggling in. Many of our alumni even work in high-ranking positions inside the Ministry, the Wizengamot, and some private businesses. They can help you a lot after you graduate.”

“… It sounds interesting,” Ron offered. He could already see some of the obvious benefits.

“We’re having a meeting in the library after dinner tonight,” Andre explained. “You can meet the other members and we can explain some more about what the study group does. What do you say?”

Hermione walked excitedly to the library after she finished her dinner. She couldn’t wait to meet the other members. This was exactly what she had hoped for when she first enrolled in Hogwarts, finding a group of students that thought the same way that she did about their education.

She made her way to the back of the library, towards the large table facing the window. It looked like the other members had already arrived.

“Hi Hermione,” Beatrice greeted with a smile. “I’m glad you came. The other new members should be here any minute.”

‘Other new members?’ She thought. She hadn’t realized they were recruiting other members.

Before she had a chance to ask, Draco Malfoy walked in, and she realized what was happening. They were offering membership to all the top students, so that meant Potter would definitely be here.

Almost as if she heard his thoughts, Potter showed up next, with Ron in tow. As far as she knew, Ron wasn’t even in the top five, leading her to wonder how he got an invitation in the first place.

“Thank you for joining us today, Draco, Harry, Hermione and Ron,” Andre said. “Now that you’re all here, we can introduce ourselves. I’m Andre Egwu, 7th year Ravenclaw, and top student for my year.” 

“I’m Talbott Winger, Ravenclaw seventh year as well, and number two in the ranking,” the blond-haired boy with the slicked back hair spoke next.

“I’m Ismelda Murk, seventh year Slytherin, and number three in the ranking,” the dark-haired witch with the freckles introduced herself.

“My name is Beatrice Haywood. I’m a third year Hufflepuff, and the top student for my year too,” the blonde-haired and blue-eyed girl said.

“Lucian Bole, Slytherin third year, and number two in the ranking,” the blonde-haired boy said.

“Hi, I’m Elspeth MacGillony, Ravenclaw third year, and number three in the rankings,” the red-headed girl said with a friendly smile.

“What’s this all about?” Draco asked curiously. “How come I’ve never heard of this study group before?”  

“That’s a good question Draco,” Andre smiled. “We don’t really advertise our existence to the rest of the school, only to new members.”

“Why is that?” Ron asked, surprised that he was agreeing with Malfoy. “What’s the big secret?”

“There’s no big secret,” Andre laughed. “But I get where you’re coming from. It does seem a bit cloak and dagger, doesn’t it? I felt the same way when I joined too.”

“The group has been around in one form or another for a while, almost since the start of Hogwarts actually,” Andrew continued. “When our predecessors founded this group, it was based upon the idea of learning new things, and helping each other become the best versions of ourselves we could be, and we mostly we stuck to that over the years.”

“Mostly?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Some of our members had brothers, sisters, cousins. You get the idea. When they found about it, they wanted to join too. Before long, parents got involved, not letting new members join unless their siblings could as well. Pretty soon after that, the real members were nothing more that glorified tutors, and the group didn’t have much reason to exist anymore.”

“The group disbanded and reformed a few times over the years because of that. After a while, we learned to be a little more discreet with who we recruited.”

Draco nodded along. He could certainly see the sense in that. The idea of spending his free time helping Crabbe and Goyle to pull up their grades from a ‘dreadful’ would be a waste of his time.

“Some of our members went on to do great things and opened doors for the rest of us…” Andre continued.

Harry missed most of Andre’s speech. After almost a week, he felt the buzzing again. It was in the library with them.

“It’s close, whatever it is,” Merlin agreed. “When you get a chance, try standing next to each of them. It could be an item in their possession.”

Harry looked around the library as Ron, Hermione, and Draco started talking to the other members. He did his best not to draw too much attention to himself as he walked around the room.

“You alright there, Harry?” Andre asked, walking up to him. “You’re looking a bit lost.”

“No, I’m fine,” Harry lied. “I just haven’t had a chance to visit the library before.”

“I think I understand Harry,” Andre replied. “You’re already at the top of your class, and you have plenty of things on your plate already. You’re wondering if this is worth your time.”

“No,” Harry denied. “It’s nothing like that. I’m just a little distracted.”

“It’s ok Harry, I felt the same way you did,” Andre smiled.

“He’s clean,” Merlin confirmed. “He doesn’t have the item on him.”

“When I came to Hogwarts, I was the top student as well,” Andre continued. “I didn’t see much point in slowing down my own studies either, especially when I wasn’t getting anything out of it.”

“So why did you join?” Harry asked curiously.

“They gave me something else,” Andre explained. “Growing up, I was alone a lot, the only son of pureblood parents. I didn’t even have any friends until I started Hogwarts. They became my friends, my family. I think you know what I’m talking about,” he said, looking at Harry meaningfully. 

Harry looked back at Andre. “it’s not easy,” he agreed.

Andre nodded. “Take some time to think it over. There’s a lot we can do to help with your scholarship program too, and really anything else you want to do to help the less fortunate.”

“Thanks Andre, I’ll think about it,” Harry smiled. It was comforting to know that someone else had been through at least some of what he had to go through and come out the other side.

Chapter Text

James and Lily strolled into the office of Elphias Doge. He was one of the top solicitors hired by the pureblood families. Whenever a proper pureblood needed something to be swept under the rug, or certain laws to be bent, he was more often than not, the man they went to.

“Hello Lord and Lady Potter,” Elphias said as he stood up from his desk to greet them. 

“Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice,” Lily replied graciously as she sat down, well aware the man was James’s best hope of walking out of the Wizengamot hearing in one piece. 

“Think nothing of it,” Elphias smiled as he observed the customary pleasantries the pureblood elites were so fond of. “I was more than happy to clear my schedule for such a prestigious family.”

“I have a hearing coming up in front of Wizengamot soon,” James cut to the chase. “We want to hire you to represent me.”

“Yes Lord Potter, I’m aware of the situation,” Elphias replied. “I will be honest with you. This will not be a simple case to win. The Minister publicly aired his grievances with you, and what he presented cast not just you, but the entire Wizengamont in a bad light. That is their true concern.”

“Skeeter printed the article in some French tabloid,” James scoffed. “She couldn’t even get the article printed in Britain. That should tell you how credible this story is.”

“Regardless of the credibility of the article, I suspect the Prophet did not print it at the behest of your fellow Wizengamot members,” Elphias explained.

“What do you mean?” Lily asked. “They’re the ones putting my husband on trial,” she pointed out. “Why would they help us?”

“Lady Potter, a public trial is the last thing the Wizengamont wants,” Elphias pointed out. “The content of the article forced their hand. They can not be seen to ignore the law.”

“Think of the chaos that would occur if the general public believed their government held themselves above the law.”

“Well then, what do we do about it?” James asked. 

“We mitigate the damage,” Elphias explained. “We will shift the blame to the Aurors, explaining that they wildly overstepped their authority, and that you had no intention of harming anyone with your actions.”

“Do you think that will work?” Lily asked, hopefully. “James won’t be in trouble?”

“Lady Potter,” Elphias sighed. “There is no scenario where Lord Potter will escape punishment. We must focus on keeping Lord Potter out of Azkaban, and keeping the fines and possible restitution to a minimum.”

“Azkaban!?” James asked in shock, the reality of his situation finally hitting him. 

“Yes, Lord Potter,” Elphias confirmed. “That is a possibility.”

“I can’t go to Azkaban,” James said, shaking his head fearfully.

“I will do everything I can to prevent that,” Elphias promised. “But you must also do your part, Lord Potter. Stay out of the public eye. In fact, don’t even leave your home until the trial is over.”

“We’ll speak a few more times before the trial. I’ll go through all the questions I’ll ask, and what answers to give, but it is important that you tell me everything. I can’t defend you properly if you hide something from me.”

“Alright, we can do that,” Lily promised. 

“There’s one more thing,” Elphias said. “Your son, Harry Potter. I heard a rumor that you had an altercation with him recently. Is there any truth to that?” He asked, having heard the rumours. 

“I wouldn’t go that far…” James said.

“Yes,” Lily interrupted. “They had an argument, and Harry cast a spell at James,” knowing that lying now was of no use.

“Your son has an excellent reputation with the wizarding public,” Elphias explained. “Is there any way for you to mend your relationship with him soon? It would go a long way in helping us with your trial.”

James burned with anger as he thought about the boy. It was all his fault this happened in the first place. If he had just done what he was told, none of this would have ever happened.

“I don’t think we’ll be able to do that before the trial,” Lily replied.

“I see,” Eliphas replied. “I will look into other avenues in the meantime.”

“There’s something else,” James said. “The Potter fortune is held in trust. It’s been that way since my father passed. I want to get direct access to it.”

“My focus for now must remain on the trial, but after that, I can certainly look into it for you,” Eliphas offered. 

“Alright,” James agreed. “After the trial.”

Harry looked around the Great Hall as he ate his breakfast. It was early in the morning, and the tables were only half filled.

“Alright, Harry?” Ron asked from beside him, noticing how distracted he was. 

“Yeah… I’m just thinking about the study group,” Harry said distractedly. “I’m not sure what to do about it. What do you think?”

“It sounds good to me,” Ron replied. “All of them are top students, so it couldn’t hurt, right?”

Harry thought about telling Ron what he sensed in the library, the magical object, but he wasn’t sure where to begin. Should he tell him about Merlin? Would he even believe him? Would he think he was crazy?

There were questions he was still asking himself about it. Was it a coincidence he detected the object in the presence of the study group? Was the object even dangerous to begin with? They didn’t really give him any cause to doubt them. Quite the opposite, in fact. 

“I wish Ben was here,” Harry said offhandedly. “He would know what to do.”

“Who’s Ben?” Ron asked. 

“He’s a friend. I met him during the summer,” Harry explained. 

“So why not just right him?” Ron asked.

“He’s in America,” Harry explained. “I don’t think an owl will be able to fly that far.”

“I couldn’t help but overhear,” Andre said as he walked past. “Did you say you need to write a letter to someone in America?”

“Oh, hi Andre,” Harry replied, not hearing him walk up. “Yeah, it would be great if I could.”

“Then what you need is a messenger Hawk,” Andre explained. “They’re more expensive than a regular owl, but much faster, and can fly longer distances easily.”

“Thanks Andre, I’ll look into that,” Harry smiled.

“If you’re serious about buying one, I can use the next Hogsmead weekend to visit Diagon Alley and pick one up for you,” Andre offered. “I think it’s coming up next month.”

“Thanks for the offer, but I’m actually going to Diagon Alley this weekend anyway,” Harry declined politely.

“Oh?” Andre asked curiously. “Did you get special permission from the Headmaster?”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “As long as I’m not missing a class, I can leave Hogwarts grounds anytime.”

“That’s handy,” Andre replied. “How’d you manage that?” He asked curiously.

“I’m emancipated,” Harry explained.

“Right,” Andre nodded in understanding. “That’s definitely going to be useful, especially when you’re older.”

Hermione watched the exchange between Harry and Andre, feeling another wave of jealousy. She really didn’t think it was fair that Harry kept getting special treatment like that. He should have to follow the same rules as everyone else.

“Why do you need to go to Diagon Alley?” Ron asked curiously. 

“The Minister suggested I do an interview with the Prophet,” Harry explained. “He said it would be good publicity for my scholarship program.”

“The Minister?” Ron asked in surprise. “As in the Minister for Magic?”

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed, “Why?”

“You know Minister Fudge?” Ron asked, as the rest of the Gryffindors perked up at the new gossip.

“We met after the Vault,” Harry explained. “I’ve talked to him a few times, actually. He’s really nice. He helped me out with getting the scholarship approved in time for the start of the school.”

Draco watched from his house table at the news Potter had so casually dropped on everyone. How was he supposed to compete with that? Top student for the year, his own scholarship program, meetings with the Minister for Magic?

Before he came to Hogwarts, he had dreams of following in his father’s footsteps, becoming the top student for the year, building alliances, gaining influence, but as hard as he tried, he always seemed to fall short. 

The top student for the year was Potter, and every day the gap between them widened. He was forced to battle for second place, against a muggle born of all people.

For someone who was raised to believe his blood would carry him through, it was a tough pill to swallow. He was losing to a half-blood, and more often than he would like to admit a muggle born as well. 

Draco unfolded the letter his father sent him a few days ago, reading it over again.

Draco,

I asked your godfather Severus about how you were settling into Hogwarts after your first week. Imagine my surprise when he told me you were not first in the rankings, but third, and if that wasn’t bad enough, you are losing to a half-blood and a mudblood. 

I hired you the best tutors that money could buy, and after they trained you for half a year, this was the result? Was that just a waste of galleons or are you not putting in the effort you should be?

You are the heir to one of the richest and most influential families in Britain. Act like it!  

The next time I speak to your godfather, I expect to receive a glowing report of your progress. 

When he first received the letter, he was overjoyed. His father was writing to him. He tore open the envelope, eager to read what he had to say, but his excitement died a quick death as he read through the letter.

Draco wanted to lash out, challenge Potter to a duel, but one look at him casting spells during class brought that idea to a quick end. He didn’t think he would stand much of a chance, even with Crabbe and Goyle backing him up.

Draco stood outside with his fellow Slytherins and the Gryffindor first years. It was time for their first flying lesson. It was a waste of time, in his opinion. He had already learned to fly when he was seven.

As Madam Hooch droned on about safety and proper hand holds, he wished first years could try out for the house teams. It would certainly go a long way to show his father what he was capable of, and that he was taking his duties seriously. 

He already had a broom at home, and he knew he had the skills to make the team easily. Perhaps as a chaser now, and later on, when he proved himself the seeker.

Draco looked at the broom sitting on the ground beside him and sighed. It looked to be about twenty years old, and barely functional at this point.

The rest of the brooms on the field looked no better. If he was going to show Flint what he was capable of, it certainly wouldn’t be with these brooms.

“Alright everyone, stand by your brooms and say ‘up’,” Madam Hooch instructed.

Draco held his hand out, following the flying instructor’s directions. He frowned, looking down to see his broom flopping around on the ground like a fish. They were actually worse than he thought.

“UP!” He commanded more forcefully, hiding his wince as the broom handle slammed painfully into his open palm.

Draco looked up to see that both Potter and Weasley were also holding their brooms, but it was another ten minutes before the rest of the students were ready.

“Now, I want all of you to mount your brooms and hover in place only,” Hooch instructed.

Draco easily mounted his broom, followed by most of the other students, but that’s when it became exceedingly more difficult. It felt like the broom had a mind of its own, and it took a lot of work to just keep it in one place.

Predictably, it was Longbottom that seemed to have the most trouble with his broom. Draco watched as it became even more erratic as Longbottom panicked and he started knocking over the other students. 

Madam Hooch ran over, trying to grab hold of the broom, but it was too late. Longbottom shot straight up into the air, hanging onto the broom for dear life. He only came to a stop when he reached the top of the astronomy tower.

It surprised Draco the broom could even reach that high, considering the condition it was in. 

That was when things went from bad to worse. The broom started moving again, smashing into the castle walls, spinning from end to end, and doing its level best to buck Longbottom off.

The broom launched Longbottom face first into the castle wall after a particularly vicious turn a few seconds later. The students could only watch in horror as he crashed painfully into the side of the castle before gravity took over, and he started to fall.

Neville screamed in terror as gravity took over, flailing his arms, and trying to grab onto anything he could before he crashed in to the ground. 

His fingers caught a ledge, but he was moving too fast. He felt his shoulder being wrenched out of his socket with a wet pop, and then he lost his grip, falling again. His short life flashed before his eyes as he got closer and closer to the ground. He shut his eyes tightly, waiting for the inevitable, but as the seconds ticked by, nothing happened.

Neville opened his eyes, wondering what was going on. He looked around in confusion. He was still in the air, but he wasn’t moving anymore. As he looked down in confusion, it all became clear. It was Harry. He had his wand pointed at him, and he had an intense look of concentration on his face. 

Neville breathed a sigh of relief as Harry slowly lowered him the rest of the way to the ground, feeling a searing pain in his shoulder once he touched down.

“Are you alright?” Madam Hooch asked as she rushed over to him. 

Neville nodded his head shakily, croaking out, “I think so, but my shoulder… It hurts.”

“Let me have a look,” Hooch asked as she prodded his shoulder gently. “It’s dislocated, I’m afraid. Come on,” she said, helping him up. “Madam Pomfrey will get you fixed up,” she said, leading him back to the castle.

“Excellent reflexes, Mr. Potter,” Hooch complimented. “Take forty points for Gryffindor. Until I return, I want all of you to stay off your brooms unless you want to get expelled.”

Draco looked at Potter in stunned silence. He caught Longbottom with a Wingardium Leviosa as he was falling, and all without even verbalizing a spell. Adult wizards would have struggled to act as quickly and as accurately as he had.

Hermione had a similar look on her face. From where she was standing, she had a clear view of both Neville and Potter. His arm had just been a blur as he tracked Neville falling to the ground, catching him before he hit the ground.

Like everyone else, she had just watched in shock as Neville fell. She hadn’t even thought to pull out her wand. It had all happened too fast. She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding, relieved that Neville was going to be ok. 

When she could think clearly again, she looked at Potter, surrounded by the rest of their housemates, as they congratulated him. 

She wondered what kind of training Potter could have received to do that, as a realization finally dawned on her. Potter wasn’t faking it. He wasn’t using cheap tricks. He really was that skilled. 

With that realization came another. How was she supposed to catch up to him, let alone surpass him now?

Albus sat in his office, looking at the student rankings for the first years. Harry Potter held the number one spot, and by an ever widening margin as well. Even with Severus going out of his way to make things difficult for him, he succeeded. The boy was hard working, charitable, and humble, impressive even for someone thrice his age. 

He had heard the gossip around the school, how Harry saved the Longbottom heir during their flying class. In many ways, the boy reminded him of himself when he was younger.

He could see now, he had devoted far too much time and resources to Glory, trying to turn her into something she would never be.

Albus had worked very hard to make the wizarding world what it was, shaping not only government policy, but the very minds of the next generation. It was still not enough, though. He needed something more, someone to carry forward his vision, his ideals. Otherwise his name would be relegated to a dusty tomb in the Hogwarts Library, like so many others before him. He couldn’t allow that. He refused to be forgotten.  

The path forward was clear. Harry Potter would be his apprentice, his protégé. Harry would make sure that his ideas lived on.

To do that, he had to find a way to make up for their disaster of a first meeting. He had to get the boy to trust him, and most of all, he had to find out who this mysterious person was that was training him. 

The letter from the boy’s solicitor added another complication to his plans. Any contact he had with the boy would have to be about Hogwarts business, at least until he gained his trust. 

Harry stared at the stone room inside his mind. He could already see some improvements since the last time he was here. The walls were slightly smoother than before, and so was the floor. 

“You’re doing well, Harry,” Merlin complimented. “I’m sure you’ve noticed your reflexes are a little sharper, and you can remember things a little faster.”

“I have,” Harry agreed. “Are we here to make more changes?” he asked curiously. 

“Yes, but nothing as drastic as before,” Merlin replied. “Look at the desk and the books.”

Harry started looking at the books on the desk, noticing that quite a few of them were his Hogwarts textbooks, along with a few that he had read at Potter Manor.

“The books represent what you have learned,” Merlin explained, “but do you see how they’re just placed haphazardly on the desk?” 

“Yes,” Harry nodded. 

“Organize the books on the desk,” Merlin instructed. 

Harry looked through the books, organizing them into a neat pile with the spines facing out. 

“Good. When you arrange the books this way, it will be easier and faster for you to remember what you’re looking for,” Merlin explained. “Now think about the boil cure potion, visualize the list of ingredients.”

As Harry thought about the potion, he saw his potion’s text flip open, and the pages turn, stopping at the relevant page. As soon as he had the information he needed, the book dropped back on the desk with a thud.

“That’s what happens when you recall something,” Merlin explained. “You get the information, then the book goes back into the pile. From now on every night I want you to organize your books. Think of something, then put the book back in order. With practice, you can train your mind to put the books back in the proper place automatically.”

“Ok,” harry agreed. “Was there anything else you were going to teach me?”

“Yes,” Merlin nodded. “You’re prepared enough to learn about my life now,” he said as the room faded away.

“I was born in a small village in the year 800 AD,” Merlin said as he and Harry stood in a small hut. “The town still exists to this day, Carmarthen.”

Harry looked around the hut in surprise. Were they really in Merlin’s memories?

“Yes, we are,” Merlin replied, answering Harry’s unspoken question.

“That’s me over there,” Merlin said as he pointed to the small child on the bed, then pointed to the woman by the fire. “That’s my mother Hunith. She worked as a medicine woman to support us, making primitive versions of the potions you use today.”

“What about your father? Where is he?” Harry asked curiously.

“My father.. Balinor, he left before I was born,” Merlin explained. “He had to flee, to protect both me and my mother. It wasn’t until much later in my life that I met him.”

“Why did he have to leave?” Harry asked as they watched Hunith tend to the fire.

“The king of these lands at the time was a man named Uther,” Merlin continued. “He believed that magic was unnatural, demonic, and he did everything he could to stamp it out.”

“My father had been careless. Someone saw him cast a spell. They reported it to a guard, who then reported it to the King. He had to leave to keep us safe, and my mother had to pretend he died during the winter, and that my father was just a man she met after he passed.”

“The rest of the village shunned her after that. They called her things that don’t bear repeating, but she kept the secret to protect me.”

“This king, why didn’t the witches and wizards try to stop him?” Harry asked.

“Things were much different back then. We weren’t as organized as you are now. We didn’t have schools, nor the population you have now.”

“The magic users of my time were largely self taught. Nothing was ever written down, just passed down from parent to child. If you were a muggle born, and were lucky enough to find a witch or a wizard, they sometimes took you on as an apprentice.”

“We could never risk organizing or forming communities. We would have been easy targets for the various warlords, slavers, and despots that ruled back then.”

Harry watched as the scene changed. An older Merlin walked down a dirt path with his mother. He looked to be about eight years old. 

“My mother was not a witch,” Merlin continued, “but my father taught her enough to find the right plants to make potions she could sell. We sometimes searched the forests for days just to find the right ones.”

“You didn’t grow them like we do now?” Harry asked.

“No,” Merlin shook his head. “For some of the non-magical plants it was possible, but for the magical ones, they don’t just require the right soil conditions, but also the right ambient magic to grow. It would be much later that our kind discovered how to do that.”

“By this point, the townspeople were getting suspicious. I started having bouts of accidental magic. To protect me, my mother hid me away in our hut. She didn’t let me play with the rest of the village children anymore.”

“I didn’t understand it at the time,” Merlin said, regretfully. “My mother was trying to protect me, and I made life very difficult for her for a long time because of it. She knew all it would take was the wrong person finding out, and the king’s soldiers would hunt us both down and kill us.”

“What about the potions your mother made?” Harry asked. “Didn’t they suspect her for that?”

Merlin smiled as he watched his mother and younger self harvesting plants. “In those days, there were very few healers. If you contracted an illness, developed an infection, or sustained any kind of injury, it was practically a death sentence.”

“My mother was clever. She made just enough normal medicines to hide the fact she was brewing potions, and she was also the only medicine woman for the three nearest towns.”

“Everyone feared the wrath of the king and his soldiers, but at the same time, they also knew that if something happened, they were unlikely to survive the next winter without her.”

“Then why did she hide you away from the rest of the children?” Harry asked.

“It was safer for everyone that way, too,” Merlin explained. “The king didn’t just have magic users killed, he also killed the people that knew about them, and protected them.”

“Along with that, he also offered gold to anyone who turned in a magical user. All it would take is a desperate or greedy villager to put us in danger.”

“It sounds like a terrible way to live,” Harry replied. 

“It wasn’t all bad,” Merlin replied. “At least I had a mother. There were many people that didn’t have even that much. Many more died just from winter and starvation alone.”

“She also taught me everything she learned from my father about potions and remedies.”

“What about the king?” Harry asked. “What happened to him?” 

“His son, King Arthur, succeeded him,” Merlin smiled wistfully. “It was under his reign that the golden age of magic and discovery was born.”

The stone room appeared again as the memory Merlin shared ended. 

“Merlin, not that I don’t appreciate you showing me that, but I thought you were going to teach me something,” Harry said.

“Look at your table,” Merlin instructed. 

Harry walked to his table, picking up a book that hadn’t been there before. “Magical and Mundane Plants Volume I,” he said, reading the cover.

Harry opened the book, flipping through the pages. They were the same plants that Merlin and Hunith collected in Merlin’s memory. 

“Yes, Harry,” Merlin answered his unspoken question. “When I share my memories with you, you aren’t just watching them, you’re learning what I learned.”

Harry’s eyes widened as he went through his new memories. What Merlin had spent years learning, he learned in a single night.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Merlin warned. “Just because you know how to do something doesn’t mean you can.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked. He recalled everything Merlin learned about harvesting plants, like they were his own memories.

“What you learned was information, not skill,” Merlin clarified. “You need to put it into practice to make it useful.”

At Harry’s confused look, Merlin continued. “How useful is it to know how to swing a sword if you’re too weak to lift it? How useful is it to know a spell if you don’t have enough control over your magic to cast it?”       

“I have a lot of work to do,” Harry realized.

Chapter Text

It had been a few days since the incident in the flying class, and the Hogwarts gossip mill had finally moved on to other topics, much to Harry’s relief. 

Harry sat in the Great Hall, eating his breakfast before he set off for Diagon Alley. He had been looking forward to it ever since Andre told him about the messenger Hawks. 

He was just about to leave when the doors opened and Neville walked in. He had been in the hospital wing since the flying class.

It turned out that replacing broken bones was a lot easier than repairing torn muscles and ligaments.

“Neville,” Harry greeted, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing better,” Neville replied. “Madame Pomphrey said it could have been a lot worse if it wasn’t for you.”

“I’m just glad you’re ok,” Harry replied.

“... Can I ask you something, Harry?” Neville asked. “The stuff you told us in the common room about the exercise? Do you think it could help me, too?” He asked hopefully.

“You’re talking about what happened to you in flying class,” Harry realized. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Neville, and that broom you were on was one of the worst of the lot. Something bad was going to happen. It was just a matter of time.”

“... It… it’s not just the broom,” Neville confessed. “It’s everything. The cauldron in potions, my spell work in class. I can’t seem to do any of it right.”

Harry nodded, understanding how Neville felt. “I’m going to be back this evening. Why don’t you join me and Ron for a run?” He offered.

“Thanks Harry,” Neville smiled, sitting down to breakfast. 

“I have to head out now, but we can talk more about this later,” Harry offered as he stood up, making his way to the main entryway. He could use the Goblin Portkey to get Gringotts, then head to the owl emporium. 

“Harry! Hold on a second,” Andre said, running up to catch him at the door. 

“Hey Andre,” Harry greeted.

“I’m glad I caught you before you left,” Andre said. “I just wanted to see if you’d given any more thought to joining the study group.”

“Oh sorry,” Harry replied. In all honesty, he had been so focused on what he was learning from Merlin and tracking down the strange magical object that he hadn’t given it much thought. “I’ve been a little distracted the last few days,” Harry admitted. 

“I understand,” Andre nodded. “I was the same way my first year as well, too many things to learn and see. Sorry if I’m coming off a little pushy,” he said ruefully. “I guess I just see a lot of myself in you, Harry.” 

“You have the same drive to learn, and improve that I do, and I’m not saying this will happen to you, but in my case it isolated me a lot from the rest of my house, and made it really difficult for me to make friends. I don’t want that same thing to happen to you.”

“Thanks Andre, I promise I’ll think about it,” Harry smiled. “And thanks again for telling me about the messenger hawks.”

“Glad I could help,” Andre smiled, as he walked back into the great hall.

Harry stepped outside, activated his portkey, and appeared in the lobby of Gringotts.

“How can we help you, Harry Potter?” a goblin teller greeted him as soon as he appeared.

“Hello, I need to make a withdrawal,” Harry greeted him.

“I can help you at the counter,” The Goblin replied. “How much would you like to withdraw?”

“... I’ll need 100 galleons,” Harry said after thinking about it for a moment. It should be more than enough money for the hawk, and whatever else he needed to take care of it.

“Here you are Harry Potter,” the goblin said as he handed Harry a pouch. 

“Thanks,” Harry said as he took the pouch and walked to the owl emporium.

Harry stepped into the owl emporium, looking around. The shop was filled from floor to ceiling with owls of all shapes and sizes, screeching and hooting as he walked past them to the front desk.

“Hello,” the man behind the counter greeted Harry. “Is there something I can help you find?”

“Yes, a friend of mine said that you have messenger hawks for sale,” Harry replied, looking around.

“Hmm, a messenger hawk, you say,” the man replied. “Are you sure that’s what you’re looking for? Most kids your age just need a barn owl to write home.”

“I’m sure,” Harry replied. “I need it to fly back and forth between here and America.”

“Yeah, then a messenger hawk is what you’re looking for. Come on back,” he said, gesturing to the door behind him. “The name’s Oswald by the way, Oswald Eyelop.”

“Harry Potter, nice to meet you,” Harry replied as he followed him to the back room. 

“Harry Potter, eh? I thought you looked familiar. You’re the kid that solved Merlin’s cypher,” Oswald remembered.

“Yes,” Harry nodded. He was still getting used to being recognized, and wasn’t sure what to say about it most of the time.

“I’m glad it was you, instead of the Yanks,” Oswald replied. “English pride, and all that. Anyway, I’ve got a few Hawks for you to choose from,” Oswald said as he gestured to the larger cages in the backroom. “They scare the barnyard owls, so I can’t keep them with the rest.”

“That one there is a Goshawk,” Oswald said, gesturing to the gray and white hawk. “Tough bird, and it’ll get your letters where they need to go in a hurry. “She can make a round trip in three days.”

“This one’s a Red Tail,” he said, pointing to the left. “He’s a bit stubborn, hasn’t really got on with any of my other customers. Honestly, he could be more trouble than he’s worth, but if you can win him over, he’ll be loyal to a fault.”

“Last one’s the Regal. He doesn’t get along with other birds, so you can’t keep him around other post owls, but he’s definitely the fastest,” Oswald explained.

“Well, I guess the Regal’s out,” Harry said. “He would have to stay with the other owls at Hogwarts. What about the other two? Which would you recommend?”

“Well,” Oswald said, scratching his head. “I suppose the Red Tail is the one I’d go for. It’s faster than the Goshawk, and it can pretty much take care of itself.”

“What’s its name?” Harry asked, walking up to the red tail.

“Dermott,” Oswald replied.

“What do you think Dermott? Do you want to come with me?” Harry asked, reaching out to pet the hawk, but immediately pulled his fingers back when the hawk screeched at him and snapped his beak at his fingers.

“You’ll have to be careful with this one,” Oswald laughed. “He’ll carry your letters, but you’re going to have to work on building a bond with him.”

“... Alright, I’ll take him, I guess,” Harry replied, realizing he had his work cut out for him.

“Ok that’ll be 50 galleons, that’ll include the dragon skin glove for him to perch on.”

“What about food?” Harry asked.

“I wouldn’t worry about that. Red Tails are great hunters. He’ll take care of that part.”

Harry reached into his pouch, counting out the 50 galleons, handing it to Oswald.

“Alright, this looks good,” Oswald said, handing Harry a glove, then opened Dermott’s cage, letting the bird fly out. 

“Where’s he going?” Harry asked as the hawk flew out the open window. 

“Probably out for a snack. Don’t worry about him, he’ll be around. When you need him, just say his name, and he’ll find you,” Oswald explained.

Harry nodded, taking the glove with him as he went to meet Ted for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron.

Ron let out a sigh as he looked over at the Slytherin table. He had put this off as long as he could, but he knew he had to get it over with. He promised Harry he would speak with Sally Perks today. Pushing his doubts aside, he walked over to the Slytherin table.

“What are you doing over here, Weasley?” Draco asked suspiciously. “The Gryffindor table is over there,” he said, pointing back to where Ron came from.

“I’m here to talk to Sally,” Ron replied.

“What for?” Draco demanded.

“None of your business,” Ron snapped, taking issue with the interrogation Malfoy was putting him through. 

“Maybe I want to make it my business,” Draco said, standing up, quickly followed by Crabbe and Goyle. He may have had some reservations about starting something with Potter, but Weasley was another matter.

“Knock it off, both of you,” Sally interrupted, “and I can speak for myself just fine, Malfoy.”

Draco seethed at being talked down to by Perks of all people, but he knew enough to not start trouble with his own house in public. “Crabbe, Goyle, let’s go. Perks wants some private time with her boyfriend,” he added snidely.

Sally glared at Malfoy as he left the Great Hall. She would pay him back for that comment later.

“What did you want to talk to me about, Weasley?” Sally asked. 

“Harry,” Ron answered. “He said that we might have a few things in common.”

“Oh? Like what?” Sally asked, now curious.

“... To be honest, I’m not really sure,” Ron admitted. 

“... Well, I saw you playing chess with Harry the other day,” Sally said, thinking about it for a moment. “You’re really good, by the way,” she complimented.

“Oh, thanks,” Ron replied, surprised at the compliment. “Do you play?”

“A little,” Sally admitted. “My aunt taught me. She used to play with my mother when they were growing up.” 

“... Yeah, Harry mentioned what happened… I’m sorry for your loss,” Ron replied awkwardly.

“Thanks,” Sally nodded. “Do you want to play?” Sally asked as she pulled out her chess set from her bag. 

Ron looked down at the box. It was a muggle set, and obviously well taken care of. “Sure,” he said, sitting down across from her. He supposed it was as good a way as any to find out more about her.

Ron looked over the board and chess pieces as they set up the game. “This is a nice chess set. It looks pretty old as well. How long have you had it?”

“It belonged to my grandfather,” Sally smiled. “He used to play professionally.”

“That’s cool,” Ron said as he made the first move. “I’ve always wanted to see a professional game. It’s too bad they don’t have them in the wizarding world.”

“Why is that?” Sally asked. “It seems like it’s pretty popular here, too.”

“Quidditch,” Ron answered simply. “It gets all the attention, so there’s never been much interest in setting up a chess league.”

“... Well, there will be a tournament next summer in the muggle world,” Sally replied. “I can get you the date and address if you’d like.”

“Thanks,” Ron replied. “That would be great!” He said, forgetting for the moment that he was talking to a Slytherin.

“You spent most of your life in the wizarding world, right Ron?” Sally asked, making conversation. 

“Yeah,” Ron nodded. “I think I have a cousin that’s an accountant, but I’ve never met him.”

“What was it like?” Sally asked, “Growing up in the wizarding world?”

“It was ok,” Ron answered. “I have five older brothers and a younger sister. My two oldest brothers, Bill and Charlie, moved out, so we have a little more room at the house now.”

Ron and Sally continued to talk as they played. Ron’s earlier feelings of mistrust fading away as they talked about each other’s lives. 

Harry stepped into the Leaky Cauldron, greeting Tom as he went to an open table. “Hello Tom.”

“Oh… hello Harry,” Tom said distractedly, looking up from a set of papers at the bar.

“Is everything ok Tom?” Harry asked, quickly picking up on the fact that something was off. 

“Oh, it’s nothing Harry,” Tom said, shaking his head. “How is Hogwarts treating you? I read about your scholarship in the Prophet. It’s a real nice thing you’re doing,” he said, changing the subject.

“Thanks Tom,” Harry nodded. “Hogwarts is good.”

“Hmm… that’s usually not the response I get from first years,” Tom observed.

Harry sighed, not sure how much to reveal about his issues with the Headmaster and Potions professor. Especially with the reputation Dumbledore had cultivated over the years. He really didn’t want to risk offending Tom.

“The castle is amazing, there’s so many secret passageways and things to explore,” Harry replied.

“Yeah, but what’s bothering you?” Tom asked.

“I’ve just been having some issues with the Potions professor, Snape. I’m not sure why exactly, but I think he has it in for me,” Harry sighed.

“Yeah, you’re not the first one to tell me that,” Tom laughed. “Snape has been ‘terrorizing’ students since he first started teaching there, back in 81, I think.”

“For that long?” Harry asked. “How come no one’s ever done anything about it?”

“That’s the thing. A Potion’s Master is hard to find, and worst of all, he knows it,” Tom explained.

Harry nodded, “I see.” That at least explained his teaching methods and his general attitude.

“What else?” Tom asked. “I doubt it was just Snape that was bothering you.”

“There was also an incident recently with the school brooms. One student got hurt, but it could have been a lot worse. Those brooms should have been replaced a long time ago.” Harry explained.

“You would have to ask the Headmaster about that one,” Tom explained. “He and the Board of Governors set the school’s budget.”

That was Harry’s main problem, Dumbledore. The last thing he wanted was to spend any more time in the man's presence that he absolutely had to.

“Hello Harry, Tom,” Ted greeted as he walked in. “Thanks for meeting me, Harry. I’ve got some great news for you about your investments,” he said, sitting down. “Remember when I was talking to you about investing in Nimbus? They went for it, but actually offered a bigger percentage for the same money.”

“A bigger percentage?” Harry asked. “Is that normal?” 

“Not usually,” Tom agreed. “They were only interested in giving a 5% ownership stake, but after I told them it was you that was interested, their marketing people jumped in. With all the good press you’ve been getting lately, they want you to endorse them. They’ll give you an additional 2% ownership for it.”

“What would I have to do?” Harry asked. 

“They’ll put out the advertising material, and take a few pictures of you with the broom they’re going to launch next year, standard advertising stuff. You won’t have to give any interviews or anything like that,” Ted explained. 

“Oh, ok, that sounds good,” Harry agreed.

“Great, I’ll speak with their solicitors and get the paperwork ready for you,” Ted explained. “It should be ready in the next couple of days.”

“Hey Tom, what do you have on special for lunch?” Ted asked.

“What? Oh sorry,” Tom replied, looking up from his papers again. “What was that you were saying, Ted?”

“... I was asking about lunch,” Ted replied, quickly picking up on how distracted the normally attentive bartender was. “... Is something wrong Tom?”

“No, no,” Tom forced a smile onto his face. “Just a bit distracted, is all. Lunch special is fish and chips.”

“... Ok,” Ted replied, looking at Harry for confirmation. “We’ll have two fish and chips.”

Tom nodded, going to the kitchen to fetch the food.

“He was acting like that when I came in as well,” Harry said, after Tom had left. “Is that normal for him?”

“No,” Ted said, with a frown on his face, “it’s not. He looked kind of worried to me.”

When Tom returned with the food, Ted couldn’t help himself. “Tom… what are those papers you were looking at earlier?”

“Oh those,” Tom said dismissively. “Just some inventory reports. You know how it is.”

“Tom, you’re a terrible liar,” Ted said flatly. “What’s really going on?”

“He wouldn’t tell me when I asked either,” Harry added.

“Alright,” Tom sighed. “But you have to promise to keep it quiet.”

“We promise Tom. Now, what’s going on?” Harry asked.

“My rent’s gone up,” Tom admitted. “I’ve been looking at the books, seeing what I can cut back on… but it’s not enough. I’d have to near double prices on most everything to make up the difference.”

“Is that normal? For the rent to go up that much?” Harry asked in surprise.

“Generally speaking, no,” Ted shook his head. “Rent increases are usually because of inflation, sometimes to offset the cost of maintenance. I suppose it could be that the property owner took a loss somewhere else, and is looking to recoup it through rental income.”

“Well, the owner’s never done any renovations. I can tell you that much. This place is the same as it’s always been for at least the last twenty years,” Tom added.

“Leave it with me Tom, I’ll look into it,” Ted promised.

“Look Ted, it’s not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but I can’t really afford that,” Ted replied. “I’m just going to have to move,” he decided. “Knockturn Alley usually has places to rent, so I’m sure I’ll land on my feet.”

“Forget about the cost Tom, it’s on me,” Ted denied. “When I was first starting out, you practically let me run my business out of the Cauldron. I owe you for that.”

“I want to help too,” Harry said firmly. “What do you need for the rent? I’ll cover it until we get this sorted out.”

“No, absolutely not Harry,” Tom shook his head. “I know a good chunk of your money is tied up with your scholarships program, and I reckon that’s just the start of your plans. I’m not going to get in the way of that.”

“It’s fine Tom,” Harry replied. “I’m sure Ted has that part covered. A couple of month’s rent won’t make much of a difference.”

Ted said back in his chair, “..rent… that could work.”

“What?” Tom asked. “What are you on about? I’m not taking Harry’s money and that’s final!”  

“No, that’s not it, rental income,” Ted explained. “I’ve been looking at businesses in Hogsmeade to add to Harry’s investment portfolio. I never looked at Diagon Alley because none of the properties ever go up for sale, but if the owner raised prices this much, they’re probably open to selling.”

“I like that idea,” Harry said, wanting to help his friend. 

“I appreciate the offer, I really do, but I’m not looking for a handout,” Tom said stubbornly. “I’ll figure something out, I always do.”

“Handout? Are you crazy?” Ted laughed. “This is a great opportunity for Harry. I wouldn’t have proposed it otherwise. Harry gets a nice monthly income, and the Cauldron stays right here. Everybody wins.”

“You’re sure?” Tom asked.

“Positive. Give me some time to get in touch with the owner and I’ll get it all sorted out,” Ted promised.

“Thank you Ted, Harry, I won’t forget this,” Tom said sincerely.

“Oh, look at the time Harry,” Ted said as looked at the watch. “If we don’t hurry, we’re going to be late for your interview with the Prophet. Tom, we’ll be off. Thanks for lunch.”

Harry stood up, saying goodbye to Tom as they made their way to the Prophet.

“Thank you for coming. My name is Edward Limus,” a man in dark gray robes greeted Ted and Harry in the lobby of the Daily Prophet.    

“I remember you,” Harry realized. “You wrote the article about my scholarship program.”

“Hello Mr. Potter, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Edward said, extending his hand.

“You too,” Harry said, shaking Edward’s hand. “Thanks for doing this on the weekend. I know it’s outside your normal work hours.”

“Think nothing of it,” Edward smiled. “I know your unique circumstances make it difficult to have these meetings on weekdays. Why don’t we go up to the boardroom? I can interview you there.”

Ted and Harry followed Edward up the stairs and into the large boardroom, sitting down across from him.

“Alright Mr. Potter, how has your first week at Hogwarts been?” Edward asked as pulled out a parchment and quill.

“You can call me Harry,” Harry replied, feeling uncomfortable with being associated with his father. “Things have been going pretty well. The castle is amazing, and I’ve learned a lot.”

“That’s certainly an understatement,” Edward replied. “From what I’ve found, you’re the top ranked student for your year, and by a rather comfortable margin as well.”

“... I wasn’t aware that it was public knowledge,” Harry replied in surprise. 

“Oh yes,” Edward replied. “It’s a matter of public record. The professors are required to provide it to the Ministry on a weekly basis, upon which anyone can request it. It’s actually how we select the students for our summer internships program.”

“What’s the secret to your success, Harry?” Edward asked. 

“Well, I took some time to read my Hogwarts textbooks before the start of term, and have a pretty good memory,” Harry replied modestly.

“Yes,” Edward said, making a note. “I remember from when you solved Merlin’s Cypher. It was a muggle science book that gave you the inspiration to solve it. Has this always been the case for you?”

“I’ve always enjoyed reading,” Harry agreed. “Potter Manor has a very large library of both magical and muggle books.”

“How are things going with your scholarship program?” Edward asked.

“Very well,” Ted interjected. “We already have a lot of interest from children that want to apply for the scholarship next year, and Mr. Oliver, Rivers, and Miss. Perks are all doing quite well in their studies.”

“They certainly have,” Edward agreed. “All three are within the top ten students for their year.”

“Have you had a chance to speak with them yet, Harry? What are your impressions of them?”

“I’ve spoken to them a few times,” Harry answered. “They’re all doing very well, and are already making plans to teach the students in the orphanage what they’ve learned, so it’s already exceeded what we hoped for.”

“What was it you hoped for?” Edward asked.

“When I heard about the situation, how there were kids my age that weren’t able to go to Hogwarts, I wanted to help. Everyone should have the same opportunity to learn.” Harry explained.

“I’m also very thankful to Minister Fudge. This all came together rather quickly, and the Minister made sure everything got approved before the start of term,” Harry added.

“Yes, Minister Fudge even agreed to offer a paid internship at the Ministry this summer for the scholarship students.” Ted added.

“You’ve become quite famous, not just here in Britain, but around the world as well,” Edward changed subjects. “You’re quite possibly the most famous wizard for your age. How has that affected you?”

“… It hasn’t been easy,” Harry admitted. “I’m not really used to getting this much attention, and it’s difficult to always know what the right thing to do is,” Harry admitted. “I’ve been lucky enough to meet some very smart people who have helped me a lot.”

“There have been rumors circulating about an altercation with your father, Lord James Potter. Is there any truth to this?” Edward asked. 

Harry looked at Ted, not sure how to respond, and how much he should reveal in an interview. He was much happier not having to think about them.

“That is not a topic that Mr. Potter will be discussing,” Ted interjected firmly. “That is a personal matter.”

“Of course,” Edward replied, not really expecting Harry to have answered for this kind of interview, anyway. “Does that also extend to Lord Potter’s upcoming trial in front of the Wizengamont?”

“I’m sure the Wizengamot will come to a fair, and just decision,” Harry offered.

“Well then, I think that covers everything I need for the article,” Edward smiled. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter. I look forward to hearing about more of your philanthropic endeavors.”

As Edward walked them out of the Daily Prophet buildings, Harry stopped to look at one of the paintings. The plaque read Charles Engwu Sr. ‘Andre’s father?’ Harry thought as he looked at the painting. The resemblance was certainly there.

“Edward?” Harry asked. “Why is this picture here?”

“Oh, that?” Edward asked. “That’s the current head of the Engwu family and one of the owners of the Prophet. There are portraits of all of them around the office.”

“I know his son, Andre,” Harry replied.

“Ah, yes. I assume you met him at school,” Edward replied. “Before he started at Hogwarts, he used to come in all the time with his father for the board meetings.”

“So you’ve met him as well?” Harry asked curiously.

“Yes, and his two brothers, even one of his cousins, I think,” Edward replied.

“Brothers?” Harry asked, confused. Andre told him he was an only child.

“Yes,” Edward replied, not noticing the look on Harry’s face. “Those three were terrors when they were younger. They treated the entire office like their personal playgrounds.”

“Oh… Edward never mentioned them,” Harry said in surprise. Why had Andre lied to him?

“Thanks again for making time for me,” Harry replied as he walked out of the door with Ted.

When they were off the property, Harry turned to Ted. “What do you know about the Engwu family?” He all but demanded.

“The Engwu’s?” Ted asked, startled by the question.  

“Yes,” Harry replied. “I need to know everything about them.”

“... Well, they’re a pretty influential family amongst the right circles,” Ted explained. “Wealthy too. They own 25% of the Daily Prophet, the single largest stake in the newspaper. They also own a lot of properties both here and in Hogsmeade,” he rattled off what he could remember. “Oh, and they also have a seat on the Wizengamot.”

“Why the sudden interest?” Ted asked curiously.

“I spoke to Andre a few times. He told me he was an only child,” Harry replied. “I don’t understand why he would lie about something like that.”

“That’s something you’re going to have to get used to, Harry,” Ted explained. “Learning to lie convincingly is practically a requirement for the purebloods.” 

“He wanted me to join his study group,” Harry realized. “He said all that to get close to me.”

“A study group?” Ted asked, “that hardly seems worth the effort.”

“According to Andre, the study group has been operating for a long time. When you were in Hogwarts, did anyone ever ask you to join?” Harry asked.

“Sorry Harry, I’ve never heard anything about them,” Ted replied. 

“Something isn’t right,” Merlin added his two cents. “First this strange magical object, and now a study group that no one’s ever heard of, even though they have been around since the founding of Hogwarts.”

Chapter Text

It was late afternoon by the time Harry returned to Hogwarts, his mind weighed heavily by what he had learned.

He had really thought of Andre as a friend, but looking back at it now, he could see how easily he had been manipulated.

Andre used what he learned from the newspapers and the Hogwarts rumor mill to present himself as someone that understood him, a sympathetic figure that was just looking out for him.

He had to wonder, did the other members of the study group do the same thing with Ron, Hermione, and Draco? What exactly did they want? That was when he saw him, the last person he wanted to see.

Andre Engwu walked around the corner. "Hi Harry, how'd you make out in Diagon Alley? Were you able to get the Messenger Hawk?" He asked with a smile.

"Stay calm Harry," Merlin warned. "Don't let him know that you're on to him."

"… I did." Harry forced a smile onto his face. "Thanks again for the idea."

"Sure Harry, glad to help," Andre smiled. "… Is something wrong?" He asked, immediately noticing the hesitation in Harry's voice.

"… No, just a bit tired… It was a long day," Harry replied. "I think I'll head up to my dorm and take a quick nap," Harry lied.

"Oh, ok… I'll talk to you later Harry," Andre replied, watching him leave.

"Talk to you later, Andre," Harry said as he walked past him.

"Keep walking. Don't look back," Merlin instructed.

"Why are we doing this?" Harry demanded. "He lied to me. We should find out what's going on."

"We have nothing to gain by confronting him now," Merlin replied. "We need a lot more information about him, and this study group of his. If we're careful, and plan this out, he might let something slip."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Harry asked. "Won't they get suspicious if I ask them a bunch of questions?"

"Think Harry, Engwu said that he didn't join them right away. There could have been other people who turned him down, too," Merlin reminded him. "Think about what they look for in prospective members."

"Let's see… intelligence, good grades, that's probably the most important thing," Harry thought.

"That's true of you, Granger, and Malfoy, but they also approached Weasley. His grades have improved, but are not high enough for them to take notice of," Merlin replied.

"Andre played chess with him. It was after that Andre asked him to join," Harry realized.

"Correct," Merlin agreed. "It isn't just intelligence, but also potential."

"Ron's brothers, Fred and George," Harry guessed. "They're both smart enough. They just don't care about getting the grades."

Andre watched after Harry as he walked past him. Something was definitely off. It seemed like Harry was trying to avoid him, which was odd, because until now, he was sure that Harry would join them.

He walked back towards the Great Hall where he had last seen Hermione and Draco. It was probably a good idea to have a chat with them. If Potter decided not to join, he couldn't afford to lose them on top of it.

Andre caught the eye of both Hermione and Draco, motioning his head towards the door before he stepped out again.

A few minutes later, Hermione and Draco followed him out of the great hall.

"Hi Andre," Hermione greeted. "Was there something you wanted to talk to us about?" She asked curiously.

"There is actually," Andre smiled. "I just wanted to start by saying that I'm really happy you both decided to join the group. I can already tell you're both a great fit."

"Thank you," Hermione gushed. "Beatrice has been great. She's really good at explaining the things that aren't covered in my textbooks. She even offered to proofread my essays for me before I submit them!"

"Glad to hear it," Andre replied. "What about you Draco? I asked Lucian to help you out as well."

"He offered to proofread my essays, too," Draco replied. "I'm already pretty good at potions, so I didn't need his help for that."

"Good, good. I still remember how long it took me to adjust to Hogwarts. No where near as fast as you two," Andre complimented. "If one of the older members hadn't taken me under his wing, I would have had a much tougher time of it."

"… There was something else I wanted to talk to you about as well," Andre continued. "It's about Harry."

"Potter? What about him?" Draco asked curiously.

"I spoke to him earlier today… It seemed like something was bothering him, but he didn't say what it was. Has he said anything to either of you?" Andre asked.

Hermione and Draco glanced at each other. It wasn't exactly a secret, but neither one of them was a fan of Potter's.

"… We don't know him very well," Hermione eventually replied.

"I see.. It sometimes takes time for new members to get to know each other," Andre agreed. "I suppose it isn't exactly a surprise to you, but after what Harry accomplished this summer, he had already made the shortlist of students who we wanted to invite."

Hermione and Draco nodded. It was impossible to ignore how far ahead Potter was from everyone else in their year, and probably quite a few of the older years as well.

"Between us, I don't think he really sees the value in what we can accomplish together," Andre continued. "I've seen it a few times before. An otherwise brilliant witch or wizard thinks they can accomplish more if they don't have someone looking over their shoulder or slowing them down."

"I can tell you from my own experience, it's just not that case. It's just arrogance, plain and simple. We need each other to look at things from a different perspective, to point out the mistakes we've missed, and to hold each other accountable. A single person can't be brilliant at everything."

"More often than not, those types of people eventually fall behind, or cut corners to stay on top. That's why this group exists, to help each other become greater."

"… Sorry," Andre said, plastering a rueful smile on his face. "I'm told I can sometimes get on a soapbox from time to time. I'll talk to you later," he said as he left, his task accomplished.

If Harry was going to leave the group like he suspected, he would try to convince Hermione and Draco to join him. Now that he added a little more strife to their existing relationship, it should be enough to hang onto them, at least.

There was little point in having a similar discussion with Ron. He was already as thick as thieves with Harry, so there was no convincing him to stay if Harry didn't.

He would have to keep an eye out for two more recruits. They couldn't afford to make any mistakes now, not when they were so close.

When Harry walked back into the common room, he was lucky enough to find Fred and George already there, talking to Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

"Hello Harry, looking for Ron?" George greeted him. "I think he's in the Great Hall."

"Thanks," Harry replied. "… Can I ask you something? You too Fred?"

"Um… sure, if it's quick, I guess," Fred replied, glancing at Alicia and Angelina. He really wanted to go back to chatting them up.

"It's kind of private," Harry explained. "Can we talk over there?" He asked, pointed to the far corner of the common room.

When they were out of earshot of the girls, Harry turned to look at them. "Guys… have you ever heard of a study group? Engwu, Winger, and Bole are part of it."

"Where did you find out about that?" Fred asked, suddenly serious. George had a similar look on his face as well.

"They asked me to join their group," Harry replied. "What do you know about them? Why do you both look so worried?"

"Look, Harry," Fred said, running his fingers through his hair. "This needs to stay between us. No one else can know about it… got it?"

"Ok," Harry nodded. "I promise I won't tell anyone else about it."

"… We don't know too much about them, nothing we can prove at any rate," George added.

"What they said sounded good in the beginning, but something was just… off. I can't explain it," Fred answered.

"So you turned them down?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Fred replied. "We told them we don't plan on working for the Ministry, that we wanted to open our own shop, so they couldn't really help us."

"How did they take that? When you said no?" Harry asked.

"They tried to convince us for a while, told us to take some more time to think about it, and that it was a really great opportunity we were wasting," George answered. "After a few days, we thanked them for the offer, but said our decision was final."

"We should have left it there," Fred continued. "But we didn't. We let our curiosity get the best of us. We started following them in secret, trying to find out what they were really up to."

"We thought we were being careful, but a few days later, they cornered us in the hallway, all of them. They knew about everything we were doing. They also knew everything about our dad, where he worked, even who his boss was."

"They said they could make things very difficult for us, that it wouldn't take much to see our father out of a job, the same for our brother's Bill and Charlie," George said.

"They told us to never breathe a word of them or their group to anyone, and that if we tried to follow them again, everything that happened after that would be on us," Fred added.

"Did you believe them?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Fred nodded. "When they were leaving, Engwu said something like, 'it was a shame about the budget cuts at the Ministry.' A few days later, we found out the department our dad worked for had their budget cut in half," Fred explained.

"We can't get involved in this, Harry," George explained. "But whatever they're up to, it isn't good."

"They asked me, Ron, Hermione, and Draco Malfoy to join them," Harry confessed.

"Shit," Fred and George said at the same time.

"… We'll talk to Ron," George said.

"What about Hermione and Draco?" Harry asked. "What are we going to do about them?"

"WE aren't going to do anything," Fred answered.

"I can't just let them go into this blind," Harry denied. "We have to at least warn them."

"You can try," George replied. "But you should know. Beatrice, she used to be our friend, even before Hogwarts. She was right there with them when they told us to back off."

"Thanks Fred, George," Harry said as he walked past them and up to his dorm room.

Harry sat down at one of the desks in his dorm room and pulled out a bottle of ink and parchment. He could send a letter to Ben. He would know what to do.

Hi Ben,

It's Harry. The Hawk's name is Dermott. He can carry letters back and forth between us.

I just finished my first week at Hogwarts, and I'm keeping up with the exercise schedule you made for me. It's been a big help, thanks.

I hired a solicitor, his name's Ted. He sent a letter to Dumbledore about going to the Aurors(our version of police) if he tries something like that again, and it seems to have worked so far.

I wish I could come to the States as well, but Dumbledore has a pretty long reach. I have a much better chance against him here, but maybe I can come for a visit in summer?

I set up a scholarship fund to cover the cost of Hogwarts for three students this year, and if things go well, I think I can expand it to more students.

How was your flight? Did you get back to New York ok?

I hope to hear from you soon.

Harry

Harry looked down at his letter. He would try to find out more about Andre's group before involving Ben. He didn't want to worry him unnecessarily.

Ron was on his way to Gryffindor tower when Fred and George grabbed him. "Come on Ronnie, we need to talk," George said as they practically dragged him down the hallway.

"Hey!" Ron said indignantly. "What's the big idea?"

"Not now," Fred replied, more serious than Ron had ever seen him before. They dragged him down the corridor into an unused classroom and locked the door behind them.

"What the heck is going on?" Ron demanded. This didn't feel like one of the twin's pranks anymore.

Fred held his finger to his lips, silencing him as George waved his wand around the room, muttering a spell under his breath.

"It's clean," George said, putting his wand away.

"Ron, we talked to Harry today," Fred started. "He told us about this study group you joined."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ron lied, knowing he wasn't supposed to talk about it with other people. Was this some kind of test?

"Damn it, Ron!" Fred shouted. "This isn't a game! We already know about it. Who approached you? Was it Bole? Haywood?"

Ron was taken aback. What the heck was going on? The twins had never acted this way before. "… It was Engwu, Andre Engwu," he stuttered out. "What's going on?"

"That guy is bad news, Ron," George explained. "They asked us to join them too, when we were in our second year."

"You turned them down. Why?" Ron asked.

"There's just something off about them, Ron," Fred explained. "They're way too secretive for a study group. We tried looking into them to see what they were really about, but they found out."

"What did they do?" Ron asked.

"Remember last year? When we didn't get any Christmas presents?" Fred asked.

"Yeah, dad had to take a pay cut, but that's just because they downsized his department," Ron replied.

"No Ron," George shook his head. "They found out we were looking into them. Engwu did that to dad as a warning. They said they could do the same thing to Bill and Charlie if they wanted."

"So, what am I supposed to do?" Ron asked, worried about what would happen.

"You're going to tell them you don't want to join," Fred replied. "Tell them you want to try out for the Quidditch team next year, and won't have the extra time to study, and most of all, don't talk about this with anyone."

"What about Hermione?" Ron demanded. "If they're as bad as you say they are, she could be in trouble, too."

"Try to get her to quit," George relented, "but don't tell her what we told you."

Harry took his finished letter to the window and called for Dermott. A few minutes later the Hawk arrived, landing on the windowsill.

"I have a letter for you. Do you think you can deliver it to New York for me?" Harry asked.

Dermott lifted his leg, letting Harry tie the letter to it before he took off into the air.

Harry watched as Dermott quickly flew off into the distance. 'wow,' he thought. 'Eyelope was right. He is fast.'

Harry looked down at his watch, realizing that if he didn't hurry, he was going to be late. Ron and Neville were probably already waiting for him. He quickly changed and went outside to meet them.

When Harry arrived, he was surprised to not only find Ron and Neville waiting for him but also Sally.

"Hi guys," Harry greeted them. "Hello Sally, I didn't expect to see you here."

"Ron invited me, I hope that's ok?" Sally asked.

"Sure, the more the merrier," Harry replied. "In the evenings, Ron and I usually start by doing sprints," Harry explained.

Soon after they started, both Sally and Neville lay on the ground gasping for breath, wondering what they had got themselves into, watching as Harry and Ron continued to sprint back and forth.

Another five minutes passed before Ron dropped to the ground beside them, out of breath as well. Over the last few days, Ron had come to realize it was an almost impossible task to keep up with Harry. He had a seemingly endless drive, a thirst to improve that was equal parts inspiring and intimidating.

He could only wonder what drove him. What made him push himself this hard? The way he trained, it was like he was preparing himself for a war.

It was another grueling hour before they finished exercising. Both Neville's and Sally's legs felt like jelly as they slowly followed Harry and Ron back to the great hall for dinner.

"You two did good," Harry complimented.

"It doesn't feel that way to me," Sally groused. "How long have you been training like this, Harry?"

"… It's been a few weeks now," Harry replied, thinking about it for a minute.

"A few WEEKS!?" Neville asked in shock. He had thought Harry had been exercising like this for months, if not years.

"I'm not going to lie to you. It isn't easy, but if you stick with it, you'll get the results," Harry replied. "You just have to make sure you eat enough food and get enough sleep. Your magic will take care of the rest."

When they entered the Great Hall, dinner had already started. Sally went to join her house while Neville, Harry, and Ron went to theirs.

After everyone had finished eating, Albus stood up, getting everyone's attention. "Now that you have all eaten, I have an announcement to make."

"I have come to realize that it is sometimes difficult to adjust to Hogwarts. It's a big change, and I feel I have been remiss in my duties. My first priority should have been to make sure each of you is comfortable here and have everything you need to succeed," Albus explained, as he looked out at all his students.

"To that end, I will schedule individual meetings with every first-year student. Your head of house will let you know the day and time. This is nothing to worry over. It will just be a casual discussion with you about your time at Hogwarts thus far."

Harry looked up at the Headmaster, seeing through his ploy immediately. This had nothing to do with the wellbeing of the first years. This was an obvious attempt to get around the warning Ted had sent him.

It was just his luck that he had already sent Dermott off with the letter to Ben. It would be at least a couple of days before he returned, and he wouldn't put it past Dumbledore to intercept his mail if he used one of the school owls.

Albus sat down in his office with a smile on his face, congratulating himself on sidestepping Harry's solicitor.

He knew where he went wrong during their first meeting. It would take some effort on his part, but Harry would see reason in the end.

In the short time since the boy solved Merlin's Cypher, he had managed to surround himself with surprisingly competent individuals. He knew about the solicitor, the muggle friend he had made, the goblins, but there was still the one person unaccounted for, the one who was training him.

Whoever it was, they needed to be found and dealt with before they disrupted any more of his work.

Albus heard a tap on his window, interrupting his planning. He opened it to find an owl waiting impatiently for him with a letter.

Albus took the letter, sending the owl on its way. It was addressed to one of his pseudonyms, Mr. Green, which was not unusual. He received letters like this all the time.

What was interesting was though, was who the letter was from. "Edward Tonks," he read out loud, the troublesome solicitor that Harry had employed.

It was an offer to buy the property the Leaky Cauldron rented. All in all, it wasn't a bad offer either. Ten percent above the market rate, and as Albus read further, a smile tugged his lips.

It was a bit presumptuous, and not terribly subtle, but Tonks seemed to believe that 'Mr. Green' was having money troubles, and that he was interested in closing the deal quickly, no doubt as an investment for Harry's portfolio.

This was good. He knew that his patience would be rewarded. This would be the perfect olive branch to offer the boy.

Tonks would of course have to fail in acquiring the property first, no sense in wasting an opportunity to undermine him and subtly show Harry there were better, more competent people that he could depend on.

Then he could swoop in, using his 'connections and influence' to talk down Mr. Green and return Tom's rent to its previous level.

Harry looked around the stone room of his mind. There were some changes, but fairly minor at this point.

He looked down at the desk, laden with books. Unlike before, when they were haphazardly dropped on the desk, they were in a neat pile now.

"I think we're ready for the next step," Merlin said from beside him. "Just like before, I want you to reach out with your mind, but this time, instead of focusing on the walls, I want you to focus on the floor. Try to smooth it out in the same way you did the walls."

Harry nodded as he closed his eyes. Focusing on the rough texture of the floor, how the fieldstone floor jutted out sharply in places, and dipped down in others.

He pushed out with his magic, pressing against the floor and forcing it to smooth out, just like he had done with the wall previously.

Harry felt the drain on his magic almost immediately, but he kept pushing as the floors slowly gave way and smoothed out.

Harry dropped to his knees, gasping for breath, as he looked at the changes to the room. The dips and waves on the floor had smoothed out more, matching the walls.

"Well done Harry," Merlin praised. "I think you'll notice a difference tomorrow in your exercises."

"What did it do?" Harry asked.

"You've improved your overall stamina, so you should be able to run faster, and for longer, before you get tired. You should also see an increase in your overall strength as well."

"I don't really get the connection," Harry admitted. "The books I get, but how does smoothing out the walls and floor help?"

"The walls and floors aren't really here Harry, nothing is," Merlin explained. "This is just what you have subconsciously chosen to represent them. As you learn and improve, you will move well beyond a single stone room."

"There will be time to discuss that more later. For now, I think we should focus on learning," Merlin said.

"Are you going to show me more of your history?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Merlin replied as the room faded away.

When Harry could see again, Merlin was a few years older, looking to be around fifteen years old.

"I'm sorry mother, I have to leave," Merlin said sadly. "The villagers are starting to suspect. It's only a matter of time before they report me to the soldiers."

"I know," Hunith said sadly as she cupped her son's face in her hands. "You have to be careful now, promise me. It won't be like here in the village. The people in the city… they're different."

"I promise, mother, I'll be careful," Merlin promised. "I'll find a job, I'll send money home to you, everything will be ok."

"I love you, my son," Hunith said as she hugged Merlin tightly. "You're a smart boy," she said as she wiped her tears, "but you need to be more careful."

"I will," Merlin promised as he looked at his mother one last time before he stepped out of the hut. He knew he had to leave. It was the only way to keep her safe, but it didn't make it any easier.

The town that bordered the village was two day's walk. There were close to two thousand people that lived there. It would be easy for him to hide amongst all of them.

Merlin patted the coin purse in his pocket, all the money he had saved over the last few years. It was expensive living in the city, and the coins would not last him long. He would need to find a job quickly.

Taking one last look at his home, Merlin turned and left, following the dirt path out of the village, and hopefully to a better life in town.

After two and a half days of walking, Merlin finally made it to the outskirts of the town. He was lucky to only run into a few farmers and merchants along the way, and none of the bandits that were known to camp out along the path, waiting for unsuspecting travelers.

He walked down the road, taking in the different shops and the sheer numbers of people that milled about the town, eventually finding himself in front of an apothecary.

When he walked inside to ask for a job, he was shown the door just as quickly. The second apothecary was no different. It seemed the healers in the city guarded their recipes jealously, afraid they would be stolen.

Finally, at dusk, Merlin happened upon an apothecary on the other side of the town. The building had seen better days, barely standing upright. He hoped he would have better luck here.

He walked inside to find an old man sitting behind the counter, preparing ingredients. "What do you want?" the man asked gruffly.

"I'm looking for a job," Merlin replied. "My mother is a wood witch. She taught me about collecting ingredients, making poultices and remedies," he explained.

"Be off with you," the man replied. "I have no time for fools mucking about. This is a place for learned men, not boys."

"I can see that you're preparing blue mountain flowers," Merlin observed.

"Aye, what of it?" the man asked impatiently.

"That's also a warbler egg, and ground wheat beside you. You're making a poultice for someone," Merlin observed.

"And the purpose of the poultice?" the man asked, surprised the boy even recognized the ingredients.

"It's for inflamed, or sore muscles," Merlin replied. His mother had prepared it countless times for the farmers and woodcutters in the village.

"What did you say your name was, boy?" The man asked, now impressed.

"Merlin, my name is Merlin," he replied.

"Well Merlin, I'm Gaius, the owner," the man introduced himself. "You said your mother taught you?"

"Yes," Merlin nodded. "Poultices, remedies, cures. She taught me everything she knew."

"Alright, I pay three coppers a day. No more, no less. Be prepared to work. I don't abide by slackers." Gaius said.

"I just arrived in town," Merlin explained. "Do you know of a place where I can stay?"

"Aye, in the back room I have a cot. You can sleep there, and it'll be two coppers a day now."

"Thank you," Merlin smiled gratefully.

"You'll start in the morning at dawn," Gaius said as he went back to preparing the poultice.

Chapter Text

James stood outside the doors of the Wizengamot, wearing his best robes, mentally preparing himself. This would mark the first time in history that a sitting member of the Wizengamot would be put on trial.

He looked to his right. His solicitor Eliphas Dodge stood beside him, dressed in a set of charcoal coloured robes. “Well, Lord Potter, are you ready to proceed?” He asked.

James nodded, straightening his tie. “Let’s get this over with,” he said as he pushed open the large oak doors and stepped inside.

He looked around the cavernous room, taking in the faces of all his fellow lords looking down at him from their raised seats, their expressions unreadable.

He walked to his desk in the center of the room and looked up at the Chief Warlock and his former mentor, Albus Dumbeldore. 

Eliphas Dodge moved to stand beside him as Albus banged his gavel, getting the attention of his fellow lords.

“We are here for the trial of Lord James Potter. He stands accused of election tampering, and attempted murder,” Albus said, staring down at James imperiously. “For the record, who is your solicitor?”

“Eliphas Dodge,” James replied.

“Very well,” Albus nodded. “So noted, and the claimant?”

Cornelius stood from his seat and moved to stand opposite Potter. “Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.”

“So noted,” Albus banged his gavel. “All members of the Wizengamot are present and accounted for.”

Eliphas looked at Fudge, recognizing the determination on his face.

He had no illusions about this trial. It would be the most difficult trial of his career. He would have to be at his best, because he knew from the man’s reputation alone he would capitalize on any mistakes he made during the trial.

“Point of order, Chief Warlock,” Eliphas started. “I ask that Minister Fudge recuse himself from this trial.”

“On what grounds?” Albus asked, already having a good idea of what Eliphas was planning.

“Minister Fudge clearly holds Lord Potter responsible for what happened to his wife,” Eliphas explained. “Given the highly personal nature of this matter, how can we expect him to remain impartial while performing his duties?”

Cornelius made a fist under his desk, tapping down his anger viciously. He had prepared for this moment for years, even for this very tactic. He reminded himself that he needed to stick to his plan and not let his anger get the better or him.

“Your response, Minister Fudge?” Albus asked.

“As Minister for Magic, I have the authority to prosecute any criminal case I see fit, regardless of its nature. Our laws are clear on that,” Cornelius responded.

“That is correct,” Albus agreed. “However, your authority is not absolute. If any member of the Wizengamot believes you acted with malicious intent or demonstrated a clear bias, they may call for a vote, which could result in your dismissal as minister for Magic. So I must ask, are you prepared to try this case?”

“I have always conducted myself with honesty and integrity, and I assure you, I am more than capable of remaining professional and acting without bias, just as I am sure every single member of this body is capable of doing the same,” Cornelius replied without hesitation.

“So noted,” Albus replied, picking up the subtext of Fudge’s words.

Not only had many of the Lords in attendance gone to school with James, but he had been a professor and mentor to him. If anyone made an accusation against Fudge’s professionalism, he could turn around and point the finger straight back at them.

‘It was certainly a clever strategy by Elphias’, Albus mused, ‘and it would have worked under normal circumstances, but Fudge’s response had been equally clever. They could not dismiss him from his post without opening a whole other can of worms, bringing for more attention to this case than it had already received.’

“My Lords and Ladies, are there any motions you would like to make before the trial begins?” Albus asked as a formality.

After a moment’s pause, he continued. “Mr. Dodge, you may present your defense.”

Eliphas nodded, not really expecting the strategy to work, but he had hoped to at least rattle Fudge a little. Looking at him now, it was clear that it hadn’t worked.

“I call on Lord Potter to describe the series of events that took place, leading to the unfortunate and tragic accident that occurred,” Eliphas said. 

They had practiced for days on exactly what to say and how to say it. It was all up to Lord Potter now.

“It started a few weeks before the election,” James replied. “I received a tip from a trusted informant that Cornelius Fudge was a Death Eater, and if elected, he would use his new positions to aid the Dark Lord in winning the war.”

“As a sitting member of the Wizengamot, it was my duty to report this to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement so that they could investigate it and act accordingly. That is where my involvement ended. I had nothing to do with what happened afterwards.”

Cornelius stared Potter down, a stony look on his face. There was much more to the story. He just had to keep his cool and wait for his turn to question him.

“Lord Potter, did you have any reason to believe the Aurors that visited the Fudge residence would act outside of their standard operating procedures?” Eliphas asked.

“No,” James shook his head. 

“There was a recent newspaper article that referenced an argument you had with Minister Fudge,” Eliphas stated. “It is, in fact, the basis for this hearing. Can you clarify those events?”

“Yes,” James replied. “To start with, I think we need to recognize the article in question was printed in a foreign newspaper, and not in Britain.”

“Why do you believe that is?” Eliphas asked.

“The story obviously did not meet the journalistic standards of the British press. I obviously mean no disrespect to these foreign newspapers, but they just don’t understand the subtleties and nuance of British politics,” James replied.

“What did the foreign newspaper miss about your argument with Minister Fudge?” Eliphas asked.

“Minister Fudge was quite rightly upset about what happened to his wife,” James explained. “But at the time, I didn’t know any of that. I didn’t know if he was telling the truth, or if it was some type of political stunt.”

“In the heat of the moment, I responded in a way that was unacceptable. For that I humbly apologize.”

“I understand Minister Fudge wants to punish the ones responsible. In his place, I would feel exactly the same way, but I am not the one he should be upset with.”

“It was the Aurors that performed this heinous attack. They are the ones that need to be brought to justice and answer for what they’ve done,” James concluded.

“I have no further questions,” Eliphas said.

Cornelius stood up from his chair. “Lord Potter, you said you were acting on a tip you received when you accused me of being a Death Eater. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” James replied. 

“Who did you receive this tip from?” Cornelius asked.

“… I must decline to answer the question,” James replied. “Revealing their name would put them in danger.”

“Chief Warlock,” Eliphas interrupted. “We are here to judge if Lord Potter’s actions were warranted, not find out the identity of Lord Potter’s sources,” he said, sticking to the game plan.

This was the shakiest part of their defense. They had hoped Fudge would miss it, but he hadn’t. Their best chance now was for the Chief Warlock to throw out the question.

Albus cringed internally. He caught the look on James’s face and the hesitation in his voice before he spoke. So had a good number of the other members of the Wizengamot, but there was nothing he could do. He had to allow this to play out. “Minister Fudge, your response.”

“If Lord Potter expects the court to believe he acted on information provided by a ‘trusted source,’ then he must provide some evidence of that source’s existence,” Cornelius responded.

“Further to that, the dark lord is dead. His remaining followers are locked away in Azkaban, and most importantly, the ‘tip’ your source provided is a proven lie. Exactly what danger is your source facing that is preventing you from answering, Lord Potter?”

James stared back at Fudge, struggling to find an answer. Dodge hadn’t prepared him for these questions.

“Chief Warlock, please instruct Lord Potter to answer my question,” Cornelius asked after it became clear he wasn’t going to answer on his own.

“Lord Potter, you are required to answer,” Albus ordered.

“I don’t know,” James finally answered. “They didn’t tell me what the specific danger was.”

“Lord Potter, do you have any evidence you can present at all to prove the existence of your informant?” Cornelius repeated.

“… No,” James shook his head. “I don’t have any evidence that I can present.”

“Lord Potter, if what you’re saying is true, it is your duty as a member of the Wizengamot to tell us who this source is. They knowingly lied to a member of the Wizengamot, provided false statements, engaged in election tampering, and impugned the reputation of the highest court of law in Britain.” Fudge said while catching the eye of as many members of the Wizengamot as he could to hammer the point home.

Albus took a long look at Eliphas and James. They were not off to a good start. After what Fudge had just said, there was no way he could overrule the question, not without damaging the reputation of the Wizengamot itself. 

“Lord Potter, you will answer the question,” Albus ordered.

James sighed mentally. Fudge was like a dog with a bone, picking apart the story he and Dodge crafted, effectively backing him into a corner, forcing him into saying something that wouldn’t look good for him. “… I don’t know the identity of my source.”

“How can that be?” Cornelius demanded. “You testified you received the information from a trusted informant. How can you claim to trust them if you’ve never even met them?”

“They delivered the information by owl post. I’ve never met them is person, but the information they provided in the past was correct,” James replied.

Eliphas did his best to hide his wince. He instructed Potter not to provide any extra information, and with his last answer, he gave Fudge another avenue of question.

“What information have they provided to you that was correct?” Fudge asked.

“Excuse me, Chief Warlock,” Eliphas jumped in before Potter could say anything more. “The information Lord Potter’s source provided in the past had nothing to do with Minister Fudge and therefore has no relevance to this trial whatsoever. Please instruct Minister Fudge to stay on track.”

“Minister Fudge, you will constrain your questions to Lord Potter’s actions. I will not allow this case to devolve into a fishing expedition,” Albus ordered.

“Of course, Chief Warlock,” Cornelius replied, knowing that he could only push so far with this line of question. There were still other avenues open to him.

“Lord Potter, you claimed to have passed on this information to the Aurors. Who specifically in the department did you pass on this information to?” Cornelius asked.

“I sent a letter to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,” James replied, glad that Fudge asked a question he had prepared for. “I did not address it to any specific person.”

“… Interesting, because I have been in contact with the current head, Amelia Bones. According to their records, they have never received a letter from you. How do you explain that?” Cornelius continued.

“I don’t know for certain, but I would assume the Aurors that visited your home intercepted the letter, Minister Fudge.” James replied.

It was immediately clear to Cornelius that Dodge had coached Potter on how to answer the question. He knew it would be a waste of time to pursue it further.

“Lord Potter, in the previous election, who did you support?” Cornelius asked, moving on to the next question.

James glowered at Fudge. Dodge had told him this would likely come up. “Bartemius Crouch Sr,” he replied.

“What was his official title at the time?” Cornelius asked.

“The Head of Magical Law Enforcement,” James replied.

“How did you support him?”

“I campaigned for him, raised funds, and made donations to his campaign,” James replied.

“What resulted from your efforts?” Fudge continued.

“Bartemius Crouch sr. withdrew from the election,” James replied.

“And the reason for his withdrawal?” Fudge asked.

“His son was a Death Eater,” James replied.

“Chief Warlock, what is the relevance of this line of questioning?” Eliphas asked, trying to figure out Fudge’s strategy.

“Minister Fudge, answer the question,” Albus instructed. 

“This is a pattern of behavior for Lord Potter,” Cornelius explained. “There was a result he wanted, and he took steps to achieve that result, regardless of the consequences, regardless of who got hurt along the way. He blindly ignoring anything that was counter to his narrative.”

Eliphas sighed internally, understanding Fudge’s strategy now. Fudge had counted on him to ask that question. It gave him the opening he needed to make statements directly about Lord Potter, which wasn’t normally allowed during the questioning period.

He must have known, even with the article in the newspaper, that it was unlikely for the Wizengamot to turn against one of their own.

He used the opportunity to show the other lords that Potter was a liability, an embarrassment to them, and their authority, but most of all, how easy it would be to punish him now so they could distance themselves from his actions.

It was a brilliant strategy, and one he hadn’t seen coming.

“You may continue,” Albus replied, having also worked out Fudge’s strategy, but knowing he didn’t have an avenue to stop it.

“Lord Potter, did you act on the tip you received to ensure that your chosen candidate won the election for Minister of Magic?” Cornelius asked.

“No, of course not,” James denied. “That had nothing to do with it.”

“I see. Would you be willing to answer that question under Veritasium?” Cornelius asked.

Eliphas stood up from his seat immediately, knowing that he had to put a stop to this, and fast. “Chief Warlock, this is absurd! Lord Potter is a sitting member of the Wizengamot. Under the law, we cannot question him with Veritasium unless there is a clear and imminent threat of life. I demand for the question to be stricken from the record and for the Minister to be rebuked for demanding it!”

“I must agree, Minister Fudge. What you are asking for is well beyond the scope of the law,” Albus replied.

“I am very well aware of the law,” Cornelius rebutted. “And I did not ask the court to authorize the use of veritasium. I asked Lord Potter if he would voluntarily answer the question under veritasium.”

“Chief Warlock, the law is clear. Regardless of Lord Potter’s willingness to answer the question under veritasium, it is inadmissible. This does not fall under the acceptable uses statutes, and it would be a clear waste of government resources,” Eliphas replied, attempting to shut this down as quickly as possible. 

Eliphas realized the next step in Fudge’s strategy. It wasn’t just to put Lord Potter in Azkaban, but also to destroy what remained of his reputation with the wizarding public, and worst of all, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

If Lord Potter submitted to questioning under veritasium, it would force him to admit the truth, which would send him to Azkaban, and by refusing, he all but admitted his guilt to the public.

“We can settle this rather simply,” Cornelius said, picking up his law book and opening the relevant page. “Lord Potter, please read the highlighted passage,” Cornelius instructed.

James took the book with some trepidation, looking over at Dodge, wondering what to do, but finding no support. “The use of veritasium or any other similar truth potion, charm, spell, or curse may not be administered to a member of the Wizengamot by any government body, unless there is a clear and imminent threat of life.”

“The law clearly states that a government body can not administer the veritasium,” Fudge explained to the Wizengamot. “It says nothing of Lord Potter volunteering to take it himself.”

“Chief Warlock, this is ridiculous. Minster Fudge knows very well Lord Potter will appear guilty for not volunteering. He is being compelled to take it just by asking the question,” Dodge rebutted.

“Minister Fudge, you are overruled. The question will be stricken from the record. It is the determination of this court that the use of veritasium within these chambers would be in effect a breach of the law,” Albus ruled, recognizing the danger a president like this would set for every member of the Wizengamot.

“Understood Chief Warlock,” Cornelius replied. He already knew it was a longshot for the Wizengmont to agree to his interpretation, but even still, the damage to Potter’s reputation was done.

Eliphas took out a handkerchief, wiping the cold sweat from his brow. He had expected a challenge at the onset of the case, but nothing like this.

“Lord Potter,” Cornelius moved onto his next question. “You questioned the credibility of the newspaper article printed in France. Do you know who the author of the article was?”

“Yes,” James replied. “Rita Skeeter.”

“Are you aware that she is not French, but a British citizen, currently employed by the Daily Prophet?” Cornelius asked.

“Yes,” James replied, thankful to be back to a question he had prepared for.

“You stated the author did not understand the nuance and subtleties of British politics. How did you conclude that considering Ms Skeeter is not only a British citizen, but now one of the most famous journalists in the world?”

“Ms. Skeeter, until recently, was only a gossip columnist,” James answered. “To my knowledge, she has published no articles in Britain covering politics or the inner workings of government. Her only claim to fame is a single article about my son.” 

“Yes, I suppose so,” Cornelius replied, taking the opportunity that Potter had unknowingly given him. “The article and WWN broadcast of Harry Potter solving Merlin’s Cypher. How is your relationship with your son, by the way?”

“I object to this question, Chief Warlock. This line of questioning is irrelevant to the matter at hand. Minister Fudge has already been warned of that.” Eliphas interjected.

“Lord Potter is the one that opened the door by referencing Harry Potter in his answer,” Cornelius denied. “I have every right to follow through on this avenue of question now.”

Eliphas did his best to cover his annoyance. He warned Lord Potter multiple times not to volunteer any information and just stick to their practiced answers.

“Overruled,” Albus replied. “You are required to answer the question, Lord Potter.”

“My relationship with my son is fine,” James replied testily. The last thing he wanted to do was spend more time discussing the boy.

“Have there been any disagreements or altercations between the two of you?” Cornelius asked.

“We have had some arguments, but nothing out of the ordinary,” James replied.

“I see,” Cornelius said as he walked back to his desk. “So, viciously yelling at and insulting your son in public is not out of the ordinary for you?”

James’s eyes went wide at what Fudge said. The train station. But how did he know about it?

Eliphas looked back and forth between Lord Potter and Minister Fudge, struggling to piece together what was going on. Potter and his wife had told him there was a rift between them, nothing like this. 

The case was just going from bad to worse. Potter was making too many mistakes, and Fudge was capitalizing on every one of them, making it all but impossible for them to control the narrative.

When James didn’t respond, Cornelius went for the kill. “In my hand, I hold five separate written statements from parents dropping off their children at Kings Cross, sworn on by their magic.”

“Every single one of them tells the same story. You, Lord Potter viciously insulting your son, then moving towards him in a threatening manner, forcing him to use a body-bind curse to stop you.”

 James looked back at Fudge, his face turning white. He had thought no one said anything about it. The Aurors didn’t visit him, there was nothing in the newspaper, he didn’t receive any angry letters. He thought it was over.

“I have no further questions. Lord Potter’s silence speaks for itself,” Cornelius said as he went back to his desk.

“Very well,” Albus said, banging his gavel. “We will move on to closing statements, then to deliberations.”

Eliphas got himself together. His closing statement would have to count for far much more than he originally intended.

“Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot, many things have been said today about Lord James Potter, and he will be the first to tell you, he isn’t a perfect. He has made mistakes.”

“Minister Fudge is obviously a gifted speaker, and make no mistake, he has been harmed. What happened to his wife is inexcusable, but Lord Potter is not to blame for that. That’s what we need to remember here.”

“Lord Potter was given a tip which he passed it onto the Aurors to investigate. He believed those Aurors would properly investigate, and then take the appropriate actions, following proper protocol.”

“He did everything that was expected of him as a member of this august body. He did what any other member of the Wizengamot would do in his place. We can not punish him for that. He did nothing wrong,” Eliphas finished.

Cornelius stood up, straightening his tie as he turned to face the Wizengamot. 

“We are here today for truth, for justice. To hold a man accountable for his actions, and most importantly, to stop him before he has the chance to do this to someone else.”

“Throughout these proceedings, you have seen what kind of man he is, what he will do to get what he wants. You have seen how little he cares for the people that are in his way, and the mess he leaves behind for everyone else to deal with. What he did not expect was for his lies to catch up with him.”

“He started these proceedings by lying to you, claiming he had a trusted informant, but after questioning his statements, he could not provide one shred of evidence that his informant even exists.”

“He expects you to believe he received a ‘tip’ from someone that he has never met.”

“When asked to provide other examples of his ‘informant’ providing actionable information, he dodged the question.”

“He had the audacity to call the attack on my wife a miscalculation.”

“He attempted to assault his own son just a few short days ago.”

“Ask yourselves, what is the more likely scenario?”

“Is it the one where Lord Potter received a tip, which he then sent to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, only for it to be intercepted by two rogue Aurors, who unilaterally decided to illegally search my home and attack my wife?”

“Or is it more likely that Lord Potter saw an opportunity to change the outcome of an election and used his considerable resources to see it done?”

“Throughout this trial, you have seen what kind of man he is, what he will do to get what he wants,” Cornelius explained. “And it has only gotten worse overtime. I ask you to see justice done, punish this man for what he has done before he harms someone else.”

Albus banged his gavel. “We will now deliberate and vote. Lord Potter and Minister Fudge, you will be called to return when we are ready to deliver a verdict.”

Eliphas stood in his office with James, waiting for the results. He didn’t show it, but he was seething. Lord Potter had withheld crucial information from him, allowing Fudge to blindside him with every new piece of information he brought to light.

If Lord Potter had simply told him the truth about the fight he had with his son, they could have at least taken steps to mitigate the damage.

Lord Potter sat in his chair, annoyed with Dodge. He had thought with all the money he had spent, and the long tedious hours preparing, he would have done a better job.

Dodge had done nothing while Fudge slandered him in front of the entire Wizengamot. How did the man even amass the reputation he had with a performance like that?

A moment later, there was a knock at the door, followed by a man poking his head inside. “Lord Potter, Mister Dodge, the Wizengamot have reached a verdict.”

It surprised Eliphas they had come back so quickly. It had been less than half an hour. In his experience, it wasn’t a good thing. 

With some trepidation, the two men returned to the Wizengamot chambers. Fudge, along with the Chief Warlock, and the other lords were already there waiting for them.

Albus banged his gavel. “In the matter of Cornelius Fudge vs. James Potter, we have come to a verdict.”

“We have put a great amount of thought into everything that has been presented here today.”

“Minister Fudge, we sympathize with your situation, and while we all agree those involved in the attack on your wife need to be punished, we do not believe Lord Potter’s actions contributed to it.” 

Cornelius clenched his fists, glaring at Dumbledore in anger, realizing he was going to let Potter walk.

“Lord Potter followed proper protocols,” Albus said, ignoring the look on Fudge’s face. “We can not hold him accountable for the actions the Aurors took afterwards.”

“We will, however, take action against the Aurors that committed this heinous act. They are herby stripped of their positions, and will be re-called to face disciplinary action.”

Cornelius realized immediately what was happening. This wasn’t justice. It was his punishment for challenging the old families, putting them in a position to be embarrassed.

The place he had exiled the Aurors to was far worse than any jail cell, and he doubted very much their ‘disciplinary action’ would lead to anything more than losing their jobs.

A small smile formed on James’s face as Albus read the verdict.

“As for you Lord Potter,” Albus continued. “While we can not fault you for reporting what you have learned, your actions afterwards are another matter entirely. As such, we can not in good conscience allow you to continue on as a member of this institution.”

“We thank you for your many years of loyal service, but after careful consideration, we have decided the Potter seat will remain vacant until your son, Harry Potter, completes his education, at which point he will take your place,” Albus finished.

James could barely contain his rage at what he was being told. The boy was going to replace him?! It was travesty! It was because of the boy that he was in this position in the first place!

Eliphas quickly jumped in before Lord Potter said something they would both regret. “Thank you, Chief Warlock. Lord Potter will, of course, abide by, and respect, the decision of the Wizengamot.”

“I would, however, be remiss if I didn’t say that such a thing has never happened in the history of the Wizengamot. Perhaps a less severe penalty could be considered? After all, this will set a precedent that could affect how the Wizengamot administers justice in the future.”

“The decision of the Wizengamot is final,” Albus replied. “After Lord Potter’s actions, we had little choice in the matter.” 

“We will watch your actions closely from now on, Lord Potter. You are all dismissed.”

Eliphas sat in his office, sipping on a glass of fire whisky. It was a miracle the court case had gone as well as it had for Potter. No jail time, no fines. While losing his seat on the Wizengamot was not ideal, it was far better than the alternative.

He was just about to take another sip of his drink when his receptionist stuck her head in. “Excuse me, Mr. Dodge, but there’s someone here to see you.”

“Tell whoever it is, I’m not in,” Eliphas said with a sigh. He had a long enough day already.

“It’s Lord Potter, sir,” his receptionist replied.

Eliphas closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Of course, it had to be Lord Potter, the person he least wanted to see.

“Send him in,” Eliphas said. He might as well get this over with.

“Lord Potter,” Eliphas greeted.

“Mr. Dodge,” James replied, walking in as if he owned the place, pouring himself a glass of fire whisky.

Eliphas said nothing as the man sat down in front of him, just wanting to be done with him as soon as possible.

“I’d like to know your plans for our next step,” James said.

“Next step, Lord Potter?” Eliphas asked, totally confused now.

“Yes, we obviously can’t let this travesty stand. How can I get reinstated on the Wizengamot?” James demanded.

“Reinstated? You must be joking, Lord Potter. The decision of the Wizengamot is final,” Eliphas replied. 

“Nonsense,” James replied. “Albus said it himself. I did nothing wrong. Fudge just caught me by surprise and manipulated the situation to his benefit. Bloody politician.”

Eliphas just stared at the man. ‘Surely he can’t be serious?’ he thought.

“Well, don’t just sit there, or do you not have a plan?” James demanded. “Maybe I should find someone that knows what they’re doing?”

Eliphas saw red in that moment, and before he even realized what he was doing, he was shouting. “Someone that knows what they’re doing!?”

“Let me tell you something, Lord Potter! The only one that didn’t know what they were doing was you! We prepared for this trial for WEEKS! How is it I only found out your ‘disagreement’ with your son DURING THE TRIAL?!”

“And getting into a fight with your son at the train station?! Have you gone completely mad? Do you have any idea how lucky you are not to be in Azkaban right now!?”

“I pulled off a miracle for you!”

“Fine,” James grumbled. “Did you at least find out about who’s managing my fortune?”

“I don’t represent you anymore, Lord Potter,” Eliphas glared. “I suggest you find alternate representation. Now please leave,” he said, pointing at the door.

James stood up from his chair, slamming his glass down on the table before he stormed out. He knew the man was an idiot. He should have handled it his way from the beginning.

Chapter Text

Harry sat at his house table, poking his food distractedly. He looked up at the teacher’s table, staring at the empty seat in the middle. Dumbledore was gone for the day, presiding over the trial of his father.

He expected there to be an article in tomorrow’s paper, but that wasn’t the only thing that had distracted. 

What really him worried was Andre and his study group. He thought about what he found out at the Daily Prophet, and also what Fred and George told him.

He knew the twins had a reputation for being pranksters, but this was well above even their pranking skills. It was genuine fear in their eyes. 

He had been thinking hard, trying to figure out the right thing to do. He knew he would turn them down, but what about Ron, Hermione, and Draco? What would they do? Would he be able to convince them to leave the group as well?

Harry sighed, coming to a decision. He had gone back and forth all morning on what to do, and how he thought they would react, but in the end, it didn’t change what he had to do. They needed to know what was going on. They needed to know the truth.

“Ron, Hermione, can I talk to you outside?” Harry asked.

“What’s this about Potter?” Hermione asked, looking up from her lunch. Since the flying class and what happened to Neville, it had forced her to reevaluate her opinion of him.

She may not like him, but he wasn’t like the kids that bullied her in her old school. He was at least using his wealth and fame to help others.

The real issue she had with Potter was the special treatment he received. It wasn’t fair that he could just leave the school whenever he pleased, and she didn’t like that he got to learn magic long before she even heard of Hogwarts.

“It’s important. Please, just meet me outside,” Harry said as he went to get Draco.

Draco overheard the conversation between Potter, Weasley, and Granger, and when Potter walked up to his table, he already had a good idea what this was about.

“Draco, can I talk to you outside?” Harry asked.

Draco nodded, following them out. 

“Ok Potter, what’s going on?” Draco asked after they made sure no one was around to overhear them.

“I want to talk to you about the study group,” Harry replied.

Hermione and Draco made eye contact. They both remembered what Andre said about him.

“I’m going to turn them down, and I think you should as well,” Harry said. 

“Why is that Potter?” Draco asked. “Bole has been nothing but helpful ever since I joined.”

“Beatrice was the same for me,” Hermione added.

“Something just doesn’t feel right about them,” Harry replied, trying to be careful with how much he revealed. He didn’t want what happened to Ron’s family to happen to them as well.

“I agree with Harry,” Ron added. After what Fred and George told him, he wanted nothing to do with them, either.

“Big surprise there,” Draco said snidely. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron asked indignantly. 

“You don’t see it, Weasley?” Draco laughed. “You’ve been following Potter around like a lost puppy ever since we got here.”

“That’s enough,” Harry said as he stepped between them. 

Ron glared at Draco, but stepped back, realizing they wouldn’t convince them if this devolved into a shouting match.

“Look,” Harry said. “I talked to Andre a few days ago. He said that he grew up alone, an only son, and his parents didn’t have time for him… but that was a lie. He has two brothers.”

“He told me what I wanted to hear, to manipulate me into joining his group, and I think he and the other members of the group did the same for you.”

Hermione thought about her conversations with Beatrice. She was the one that told her about the tutors the purebloods hired, and how the study group could help her become a top student as well.

Draco took a step back, sneering. “I see what’s going on, Potter. You don’t want us in the group because we’ll eventually catch up to you in the ranking,” he said as he thought about what Bole told him. 

Being the top student wasn’t just about having the highest grades, that was only one side of the coin. Bole explained the other side.

Sabotaging potions, making sure certain student’s tests and essays never made it to the Professor’s desk, costing rivals house points.

Subterfuge, manipulation, and trickery, they were also important skills to learn and master if you wanted to succeed in the real world.

Potter was trying to do the same thing to them now. He knew he wouldn’t have to work as hard to keep his spot if the study group wasn’t helping them.

“What? No!” Harry denied. “It’s nothing like that!”

Draco ignored him. “Weasley, Granger, you can do what you want, but I don’t believe a word of this,” he said as he walked back into the great hall.

Hermione stared wide-eyed at Potter as it sunk in what he had tried to do. Andre had even warned them. She followed Draco back into the Great Hall, annoyed with herself for thinking Potter could be different. 

Harry and Ron watched them leave, neither one of them sure what to do. 

“I talked to Fred and George,” Ron said after Hermione and Draco left. “They told me everything.” 

“I think they’re lying to us,” Harry observed. “They recruited us because they want something, but it isn’t to make the world a better place.”

Ron nodded in agreement. “I’ll talk to Hermione later. Maybe I can convince her after she has some time to think things through.”

Harry walked through the hallway, making his way to the library. He knew the study group was having a meeting today.

“Hello Harry,” Andre smiled when he saw Harry walk in. “You’re a little early. The others aren’t here yet.”

“I know,” Harry replied. “I wanted to talk to you first.”

“Oh? What about?” Andre asked.

“It’s about the study group. I’m sorry, but I can’t join. I have too much on my plate right now,” Harry said. 

He decided not to confront Andre directly with what he knew, at least until he understood what they really wanted.

“Oh,” Andre replied. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed to hear that. I think the others will be too.”

Harry nodded. “I’m sorry. The things my solicitor has planned for me, it won’t leave me with enough free time to do this properly.”

“Your solicitor? That’s right, you met him on the weekend. When you bought the messenger hawk,” Andre said. “You did an interview for the Prophet too.”

“That’s right,” Harry nodded.

“Be careful Harry,” Merlin warned. “He’s interrogating you. Don’t give away that you’re onto him.”

“It’s funny actually,” Andre observed. “Before you left that day, you were all set to join us, then when you came back… it was like everything changed. What could have happened in just a few short hours to change your mind like that?”

Andre observed Harry carefully as he spoke, looking for any kind of tell from the younger boy. 

“… Like I said,” Harry replied, trying to keep his voice calm. “I just realized I wouldn’t have enough free time to join a study group on top of everything else I’m doing.”

“Your interview at the Prophet… who did you do it with Harry?” Andre asked as he took a step closer.

‘He knows,’ Harry realized. “Sorry,” he shook his head. “I don’t remember.”

Andre paused, taking in Harry’s stance. His knees were bent, and he was watching him like a hawk. ‘He’s getting ready to draw his wand,’ he observed.

Andre smiled. It was at the Prophet. “What did you find out at the Prophet Harry?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Andre. I have to get going. See you later,” Harry said as he prepared to draw his wand.

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about,” Andre said, taking another step closer. “I think… you learned something about me, or perhaps my family?”

‘There’ Andre thought, catching the slight twitch in Harry’s left eye. It happened as soon as he mentioned his family.

“I see,” Andre realized. “My brothers, you’re upset I lied to you about them.”

Harry said nothing as he stared back at the older boy, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

“I’m sorry about that, Harry,” Andre said, taking a step back. “I didn’t feel right about lying to you.”

“Then why do it?” Harry demanded, keeping his guard up.

“We’re doing something Harry, something amazing,” Andre smiled. “We’ve been preparing for this for hundreds of years, but we can’t do it alone. That’s why we recruited you. What you did with Merlin’s Vault will pale in comparison to this.”

“What is going on? What are you going to do?” Harry asked.

“He’s a fanatic, a zealot,” Merlin warned. “Don’t believe anything he tells you.”

“We’re going to create a new golden age of magic, Harry, the likes of which the world has never seen before.” Andre said passionately. “We won’t have any more need for politicians, or armies, or even live in hiding from the muggles. We’ll be able to live alongside them, creating a better world. Join us Harry,” Andre implored.

“How? How are you going to do all these things?” Harry demanded.

“I will tell you everything you need to do in time, Harry, but I need you to trust me, please. Take a leap of faith,” Andre said, extending his hand to him.

Harry looked down at Andre’s hand, then thought about what he was willing to do to Ron’s family in pursuit of whatever this was. Merlin was right. Andre was a fanatic, a dangerous one. 

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I don’t know what this is, but I know it’s not good. You wouldn’t be hiding in the shadows otherwise.”

“Harry,” Andre tsked. “I really thought you, of all people, would understand,” he said, drawing his wand. “You could have been at the forefront of something great, but now… you’ll just be a footnote in history.”

Harry drew his wand in the same moment that Andre did. “Think about this, Andre. We’re in the library. How long do you think before Madam Pince shows up? What is she going to do when she sees us fighting?”

“Come on Harry,” Andre drawled. “Don’t you think I was smart enough to think of that? I cast a silencing spell before you even got here, and Madam Pince never checks up on us. After all these years, she trusts us implicitly.”

Harry watched Andre wearily. “Even with a silencing charm, there’s only so much you can hide. When we start throwing spells around, it’ll be hard to miss. I don’t think that’s the kind of attention you want, is it?”

Andre laughed. “You’re smart, Harry, very smart, but you can also be a bit thick. I’m not going to hurt you. You are far more useful alive than dead, besides a simple memory charm will take care of everything. You won’t even be able to get a spell off before I have you.”

“It’s a shame I can only erase this conversation. Anything more and people will take notice,” Andre said regretfully, before he cast his spell.

Harry readied himself to move to the side, preparing to shoot off a spell of his own.

“No WAIT!” Merlin demanded, forcibly pulling Harry into his mindscape.

“What? What’s going on?” Harry demanded as he found himself back in the stone room.

“There’s no time,” Merlin answered hurriedly. “We only have a few seconds. Let Andre’s spell hit you. Trust me.”

Then, before he knew it, Harry found himself back in the real world, staring down the barrel of Andre’s memory spell. He had time to dodge, barely. ‘I trust you,’ Harry thought as he let the spell crash into his chest.

“Don’t move,” Merlin instructed. “Stay completely still. He thinks he’s in your mind, erasing your memories of the last few minutes. I’m re-directing his magic to make him think it’s working.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that, Harry,” Andre started speaking again.

“Pretend you’re confused for a second before you answer him.”

“… What?” Harry asked, doing his best to look confused and out of sorts.

“I said I’m sorry to hear that,” Andre repeated. “I know you have a lot on your plate right now. Maybe next year you’ll have more time for the group.”

“Oh… right yeah, I guess I should be going. I’ll see you later, Andre,” Harry said as he turned and left, doing everything he could to appear calm as he walked out of the library.

Harry quickly made a beeline for one of the empty classrooms, slumping against the wall as he dropped to the ground. How could Andre have known what he was thinking? He read him like a book. It was unnerving. What kind of magic was that, anyway?

“It wasn’t magic,” Merlin answered. “I know it felt that way, but it’s not.”

‘What is it then?’ Harry thought. ‘It certainly felt like magic when I was on the receiving end of it.’

“People did that even in my time,” Merlin explained. “He says words and then watches you for reactions. It could be a twitch of your hand, taking a step back, tensing your shoulders. Anything really. He just figured out your tells and used them against you.”

‘How do I stop him from doing that?’ Harry thought. 

“Occlumeny will help, but you’re still not ready for that. In either case, he believes he erased your memories, so he thinks you aren’t a threat to him anymore.”

‘He still knows I caught him in a lie,’ Harry pointed out.

“Not much of one from his perspective.” Merlin pointed out. “He also said you’re more used to him alive. That’s good. He isn’t planning on hurting anyone, at least not yet.”

“I have some sad news,” Andre said to the assembled study group. “Harry stopped by to talk with me. He said that he won’t be joining the study group, but he’ll consider it for next year.”

“Oh no,” Beatrice frowned. “That’s too bad.”

Hermione and Draco shared a look at what Andre revealed, silently communicating if they should tell them what Harry said, and why he was really leaving.

Draco firmly shook his head no, followed by a nod from Hermione.

“What about Ron?” Elspeth asked. 

“I haven’t spoken to him directly about it,” Andre admitted. “Maybe you can talk to him, Hermione? He’s in your house. I would hate to see him throw away an opportunity like this.”

“Oh, ok,” Hermione nodded. “I can do that.”

“Great. Why don’t we finish off our homework, and after that we can talk about this year’s project,” Andre suggested.

“What project?” Draco asked curiously. 

“Every year we do a group project,” Beatrice explained excitedly. “Last year, we researched enchanted objects and how they’re imbued with magic. It was amazing how resourceful witches and wizards were back then, before they had wands.”

“That does sound interesting,” Hermione smiled.

They broke off into pairs after that, working on their individual homework. After a little while, Hermione leaned over, whispering to Draco. “Why didn’t you tell them what Potter told us?” 

“Why didn’t you?” Draco whispered back.

Hermione had calmed down since their argument with Potter. She still thought she made the right decision, but there was still that nagging doubt. Potter had never lied before. What if he was telling the truth?

“You didn’t believe him, did you?” Draco scoffed.

“No,” Hermione whispered back. “Of course not.”

“Well, there isn’t anything to gain by telling them, is there?” Draco pointed out.

“… No, I guess not,” Hermione acknowledged. “It just feels a little dishonest.”

“Grow up Granger,” Draco replied. “That’s how the world works. Potter was probably betting on us telling them everything. He’ll find a way to turn it around on us and get us kicked out if we’re not careful.”

Hermione nodded reluctantly. It was true, Harry could easily hold on to his ranking if they didn’t have the study group to help them, but she still had a nagging doubt about all of this.

James arrived at home with a tired sigh. The trial itself and his meeting with his now former solicitor had exhausted him.

“James!” Lily rushed over. “How did the trial go? What happened?” 

“Well, I’m not going to Azkaban,” James said with a sigh. “That’s the good news. The bad news is they’ve dismissed me from the Wizengamot, and worse than that, they want the boy to replace me when he reaches his magical maturity.”

“The important thing is you’re not going to Azkaban,” Lily assured him with a hug. “We’ll get it all back, together.”

“Daddy?” Glory called out, walking into the living room. 

“Hello sweetheart,” James said, giving his daughter a hug.

“I heard you and mommy talking. Why does stupid Harry get everything?” Glory demanded. “It’s not fair!” She was so sick and tired of seeing him in the newspaper all the time. She was the one that saved everyone from the Dark Lord. Who cares about his dumb scholarship, anyway?

“I know, sweetheart,” James replied, rubbing her back. “But it will all work out, you’ll see.”

“What did Dodge say about the Potter family trust?” Lily asked. “He was looking into that too, right?”

“He couldn’t find anything,” James lied through his teeth. “I don’t know why he has the reputation he does. He wasn’t even that much of a help during the trial. I think we’ll need to find someone else to find out who’s managing it, or do it ourselves.”

“Alright, why don’t we have dinner now, and we can talk about it tomorrow,” Lily suggested. “You look exhausted, James.”

James nodded. He really was tired after everything that had happened. Maybe he would turn in early tonight.

Cornelius sat in his armchair, staring at the fireplace, and nursing a glass of fire whisky. It had been a victory for him, but it didn’t make him feel any better. They didn’t even punish Potter for what he really did. 

The message the Wizengamot sent was clear. They punished Potter for embarrassing them, not the attack on his wife. 

His punishment for embarrassing them was ending the punishment he devised for the animals that attacked his wife.

“It’s not all bad,” Rita said from the chair across from him. “The Wizengamot isn’t protecting Potter anymore.”

“That was my ace in the hole,” Fudge sighed. “It took me years to even get that much on him.”

“You didn’t have me on your side before,” Rita said confidently. “Besides, men like him don’t just have a single skeleton in their closet. It’ll take some time, but I’ll find another one.”

Cornelius nodded. Nothing had changed. He would still send Potter to Azkaban for what he did. It would just take a little longer than he originally planned.

James shivered, reaching down to pull up the blanket. After fumbling for a few minutes, he cracked an eye open in frustration. He hated it when Lily hogged the blankets, but when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t in his bedroom. He was on the living room floor. ‘How did I end up here?’ He wondered.

Then he tensed up. There was someone in the room with him, but he couldn’t see who they were.

“Moody?” He asked in shock when the man stepped into the light, “What the hell? What are you doing here?!” He demanded, getting to his feet.

“Shut up,” Moody growled, sending a hard punch to James’s face, sending him sprawling back to the ground.

“What are you doing?!” James demanded, slowly getting back to his feet again and holding his jaw.

“Do you have any idea how cold Russia is?” Moody demanded.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” James asked, holding his throbbing face, thoroughly confused.

“I had to spend the last two weeks in Russia, tracking down the Aurors that went with us to Fudge’s house thanks to you,” Moody said, punching him again.

James groaned as he sat up again, reaching for his wand.

“Don’t bother,” Moody said, holding up James’s wand. 

James paled as he realized he was defenseless, and at the mercy of the former Auror. “What do you want?” 

“I want to know why it was so difficult for you to keep your mouth shut!” Moody demanded. “I had your mess all wrapped up, and taken care of, then you had to open your mouth.”

“It wasn’t my fault, it was Fudge. He’s the one that tricked me,” James replied desperately.

“You may have fooled me with that tripe once, but it’s not going to happen a second time,” Moody denied.

“It’s true!” James insisted. “You weren’t there. He had it planned out from the beginning!”

“STOP LYING!!!” Moody roared, bringing James to a stunned silence.

“You were the one that told me Fudge was a Death Eater! You were the one that insisted on going there and searching his house and you were the one that attacked his wife!” Moody shouted.

“You saw how Fudge was, always following Malfoy around by the nose. What was I supposed to think?” James asked.

“Always have someone to blame, don’t you?” Moody sneered. “Remind me again, who was the one that insisted on coming along, even though they had no formal training whatsoever?”

James’s face flushed in embarrassment, but he remained silent.

“Who was the one that said the house would be empty?” Moody continued.

“She was supposed to be out shopping,” James groused. “How was I supposed to know she would come home early?”  

 “This is the problem with you, James,” Moody said, shaking his head. “You’ve always thought you were smarter than everyone else, but you’re not!”

“We could have waited for less green Phoenix members to get there, and all of this could have been avoided. You told me that Dumbledore said it couldn’t wait, that we wouldn’t get another opportunity like this!”

James sighed. Everything had gone wrong that day. He had been so sure that Fudge was a Death Eater. Fudge’s wife wasn’t supposed to be back for hours. 

She screamed when she saw them, startling him. He shot off a spell, just to knock her out, but those idiots that came with them shot off their own spells, and she went down like a sack of potatoes.

“It was the other two that caused it, not me. I just knocked her out,” James defended himself.

Moody quirked an eyebrow, “is that really how you remember it?” He asked incredulously.

“That’s what happened!” James insisted.

“Unbelievable,” Moody said, shaking his head. “You lie even to yourself.”

“It was all three of you. You shot off half a dozen spells before I could stop you,” Moody revealed. “She was brain dead before she even hit the ground.”

“No,” James shook his head in disbelief. “That isn’t what happened.” 

“Keep telling yourself that. Maybe if you wish hard enough, you can make it true,” Moody mocked. 

“Why are you here Moody,” James asked again.

“I wanted you to know that I tied up the loose ends again,” Moody replied.

“What did you do?” James asked, not liking the menacing tone in Moody’s voice.

“What do you think? I killed them,” Moody said matter-of-factly. 

“What? Why?!” James demanded. “You changed their memories. They didn’t know anything.”

“I had to alter more than an hour’s worth of their memories,” Moody replied. “A trained mind healer could have easily detected that.” 

“Until you opened your mouth, everything was fine. They wouldn’t be able to connect the altered memories to either of us, and now you made that glaringly obvious.”

“They’re dead because YOU screwed up.”

“Let this sink in, James,” Moody glared. “Albus wants nothing to do with you after all your screw-ups. He isn’t going to step in to pull your ass out of the fire again.”

“You’ve lost your seat on the Wizengamot, so they’re not going to protect you anymore, either.”

“When you screw up next, you’re on your own.” Moody said, shoving him to the ground. 

“Do yourself a favor. Keep your mouth shut for once, and stay out of the public eye, because if I have to deal with this crap again, I’ll kill you too,” Moody said as he pulled out his wand menacingly.

James nodded his head slowly, keeping his eyes locked on the glowing tip of Moody’s wand.

“Then I’ll be on my way,” Moody said as he walked to the fireplace. “Oh, and by the way, James. When I brought your boy to meet Albus, he put up one hell of a fight. A damn sight better than you did just now.” With that parting shot, Moody was gone. 

James stared at the fireplace for the rest of the night. All the lies he told himself were completely stripped away, and he could finally see the person he truly was. 

He thought about his past actions, how he reacted, and saw all the mistakes he made clear as day.

He had always known what he had done to Fudge’s wife, why no one else had seen her publicly in the last ten years. He allowed himself to forget what had happened. He allowed himself to believe the lie that he and Moody fabricated to protect themselves. 

Two overzealous Auror’s following up on a tip took things too far, resulting in a tragic accident. It was so close to the truth, so easy to believe, so easy to forget what really happened.

Chapter Text

Harry stood outside with Ron, Neville, and Sally. It was late September, almost October, and he could already feel it getting colder. He would need to figure something out soon, otherwise he would be training in the snow.

For the moment, though, he was glad to be outside, and was even considering skipping breakfast, anything to avoid the looks he getting from the rest of the school after they learned about the trial.

Ron trailed behind Harry, doing his best to keep up, but it was a losing battle. Harry had already lapped him once, and would probably do it a second time before they finished their morning run.

The others had already quit, too tired to keep going, but he would not give up. If Harry could run five laps around the lake, then so would he.

What Fred and George told him had been an eye opener. He had never seen the twins like that before. He couldn’t help but think about what Andre and his friends would do when he turned them down.

He knew he had to be ready. He needed to train the way Harry did. If it came down to it, he would need to defend himself.

After another twenty minutes, Ron dropped to his knees, finally completing his fifth and final lap of the lake. He was covered in sweat, and breathing hard, but he did it.

“Great job, Ron,” Harry complimented as he helped his friend to his feet. “Don’t stay down too long. Walk around a bit until you catch your breath. You don’t want to get a cramp.”

Ron looked over at Neville and Sally. They were in much the same state he was, despite only running around the lake twice. “I know it’s tough now, but it’ll get easier,” he said to them between breaths.

Neville could only nod from his spot on the ground as he considered again, if this was all worth it, but just like every other time, he came to the same conclusion. He didn’t wand to be weak anymore. He didn’t want to be laughed at, and this was what he needed to do to change things.

Sally was thinking along similar lines to Neville. This was probably the hardest thing she had ever done, but she knew she couldn’t give up either. She owed it to the other kids that didn’t get this chance, the ones she would teach during the summer.

She watched from the sidelines, a little envious as Harry went through the rest of his exercises. He barely even looked winded compared to the rest of them.

She looked at Ron. He was doing his best to keep up with Harry, that much was clear, but his face was flushed as he struggled to get through each exercise. 

Ron’s dedication impressed her. It was no wonder he climbed the student ranking as quickly as he did.

After they finished their cool down stretches, Harry called an end to their exercises, and they all returned to the castle to get changed before breakfast.

After getting cleaned up, Ron made his way down to the common room. Hermione was already there, reading a book. 

“Hey Hermione, do you have a few minutes? I want to talk to you about something,” Ron asked, standing in front of her.

“Sure,” Hermione replied, closing her book. “I was actually waiting to talk to you, too.”

“Ok,” Ron agreed. “Why don’t we do it in the hallway?”

“Good idea,” Hermione agreed, following him out.

When the portrait door closed, Hermione checked the hallway to make sure no one could hear them. “You weren’t at the last meeting,” she pointed out.

“I know,” Ron nodded, “I’m leaving the group, and I think you should, too.”

“You believe Potter,” Hermione stated.

“Look, I know you and Harry don’t exactly get along, but he’s a good bloke,” Ron continued. “He hasn’t lied to me or anyone else before, so why would he start now?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Ron? He wants to hold on to his top spot in the ranking,” Hermione said adamantly. “He knows that it’s only a matter of time before the rest of us catch up to him, especially with the study group helping us.”

“That’s just it, Hermione. I don’t think Harry even cares about the rankings,” Ron replied, wondering if it was better to just tell her what Fred and George told him.

“Of course he cares,” Hermione scoffed. “You heard what Percy said. Placing well on the rankings is really important. How is he supposed to get a good job without it? He can’t coast on Merlin’s vault forever.”

“Hermione… don’t you find it strange? All this secrecy? How they told us exactly what we wanted to hear when they recruited us?” 

“Ron,” Hermione sighed. “You’re doing really well. I see how hard you’re trying. Don’t throw it all away. Stay with the group. They can help you.”

“I trust Harry,” Ron shook his head. “And for the record, I’ve improved because Harry helped me, not the group.”

“Then I guess there isn’t anything else to say about it,” Hermione replied. “I’ll let Andre know that you’re leaving.”

“Hermione… I know it’s important to you to be the top student, but don’t let it blind you to what’s happening.”

“I’m not going to change my mind, Ron,” Hermione said with a lot more confidence than she felt. “This is too important for my future.”

“Ok,” Ron replied, annoyed with himself for not being able to convince her. “Just promise me, be careful, especially around Andre.”

Hermione didn’t say anything as she walked away. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was having doubts. Could Ron and Potter be right? Was the study group manipulating her? The study group was helping her get better, weren’t they?

Harry walking into the Great Hall, sitting down beside Ron with some trepidation. The owls had already dropped off the Prophet, and he could see the professors and students alike had their noses buried in the paper. 

Ron wordlessly handed him the newspaper, letting him read the article for himself. 

Harry skimmed through the paper. His father had won the trial. He wasn’t going to Azkaban or paying a large fine.

The court of public opinion would be another matter entirely. Even with the Prophet clearing favouring his father, they still couldn’t fully explain away what he’d done.

As he read further, his jaw dropped. He wasn’t expecting that. They ejected his father from the Wizengamot, and they wanted him to take his place when he reached his magical maturity.

His father made it abundantly clear to him he would not follow with tradition, and the title of Lord Potter, along with all the associated hereditary positions, would go to Glory. This decision by the Wizengamot threw all of that into question.

Harry looked up from the paper to see most of the students and professors were now looking at him, as if they expected him to have something to say about it.

The problem was, he didn’t even know what to think about it. He gathered up his things and made his way to the door, deciding to go to defense class early.

“Mr. Potter, wait one moment,” Professor McGonagall said, catching up to him. “I wanted to inform you that you will have your meeting with the Headmaster tonight, before dinner.”

Harry sighed, realizing his day was going from bad to worse. “Actually Professor, I would prefer not to see the Headmaster right now. I think some of the other students will find it more useful than me.”

“The meeting is mandatory for all first year students,” McGonagall replied, a little annoyed that he would dismiss the Headmaster like that. “The password is ice mice.”

“Alright, I’ll be there,” Harry nodded, resigning himself to it. The meeting was school related, so Ted wouldn’t easily be able to intervene.

He walked past his head of house, making his way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

When he walked into the classroom, Professor Green was already there, preparing for class.

“Hello Mr. Potter, you’re a bit early,” she said, looking down at her watch.

Harry sat down in his chair, nodding. “I finished my breakfast early.”

“I see,” Olivia replied. “Would this have anything to do with today’s Prophet?” she asked.

“So you read the article as well?” Harry surmised.

“Yes, I can’t imagine this is easy for you, how often you or your family end up in the Prophet.” Olivia replied. “Is it something you want to talk about?”

Harry thought about what to say. He liked Professor Green. She was always fair, not just with him, but all the other students as well. He found with the heads of house in particular they were a little biased to their own houses.

“I don’t really get along with my father,” Harry replied. “When I found out about the trial… I thought the Wizengamont would do more.”

“You don’t think what happened is a fair punishment?” Olivia asked.

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I think the Minister presented enough evidence for them to at least look more into what happened. It feels like they were more interested in sweeping things under the rug than doing the right thing.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re alone in that assessment,” Olivia acknowledged. “But losing his seat on the Wizengamot was big. It isn’t something that’s ever happened before in our history.”

“The Minister told me what happened, not just with what happened to his wife, but also what my father did to interfere in the election,” Harry replied. “It doesn’t feel right, that he could just walk away from it.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Olivia agreed, “but I think there’s something else bothering you, not just the trial.”

“What’s that?” Harry asked curiously.

“I’ll be honest with you. I’ve heard the rumors, and the way you talk about your family in the press,” Olivia replied. “You’re very careful with your words.”

Harry looked up at Professor Green sharply, wondering how much she had worked out of his home life.

“I haven’t told anyone, if that’s what you’re concerned about,” Olivia replied. “But I think your home life was worse than you let on, and this trial wasn’t only about justice for minister Fudge, but for you as well.”

Harry’s jaw clenched. The less time he spent thinking about his family, the better, as far as he was concerned. “Thank you for your concern, Professor, but I’m fine.”

“I understand, Mr. Potter,” Olivia said empathetically. “But if you would like to talk about it, my door is always open.”

Before Harry had a chance to reply, the other students walked into the classroom.

“Alright class, settle down,” Oliva said to the students. “We’re going to work on casting the Disarming Charm, so I expect all of you to pay attention…”

Harry and Ron made their way back to the common room at the end of class. They were both thinking the same thing. They couldn’t leave things the way they were with Andre and his friends. They needed to find out what was really going on.

“Fred, George, we need to talk to you,” Harry said as he walked up to the twins, keeping his voice low, just in case Hermione could hear them from the dorm rooms.

“Oi, we’re busy,” George replied, gesturing to Angelina and Alicia.

“Yeah, we’ll talk later,” Fred added.

“George, it’s important,” Ron said.

Fred let out a sigh, getting an idea of what this was about. “Alright, alright. Let’s go,” he said, walking out of the common room.

George, Harry, and Ron followed him to an unused classroom. 

“Ok, what do you want to know?” George asked after he checked for listening charms.

“I talked to Hermione. She’s sticking with Andre and his group,” Ron replied. “I think we need to tell her what happened after they asked you to join.”

“Absolutely not,” Fred and George said at the same time. 

“Especially after what happened last time,” Fred added.

“Ron, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Harry agreed.

“What? Why?” Ron asked in confusion. They had been on the same page about it yesterday.

“… I talked to Andre yesterday,” Harry revealed. “I told him I didn’t want to be part of his group anymore.”

“What happened?” George asked.

“He tried to convince me. He said they were going to do something, and they’ve been preparing for hundreds of years. The way he talked, he sounded like a zealot. I don’t know if it’s real, but he definitely believes it,” Harry continued.

“When I said no the second time, he cast a memory charm on me.”

“What?” Fred asked in alarm. “How do you remember what happened?”

“I learned about occlumency this summer. It was just enough to block out the memory spell,” Harry replied, with the story he and Merlin had prepared earlier. 

“What’s that?” Ron asked, confused.

“It’s a way to organize your mind and protect it against mental attacks,” George explained. “Most purebloods learn it after they graduate.”

“What happened after that?” Fred asked.

“I pretended the spell worked and left,” Harry explained.

“Ok, good,” Fred said, relieved. “He doesn’t think you know anything. He should leave you alone then.”

“It’s not that simple.” Harry shook his head. “I thought he was going to kill me, and he let slip that I’m more useful to him alive than dead. He’s planning something, and I think it’s going to be bad. We need to find out what’s going on.”

“Why don’t we go to the Headmaster with it?” Ron asked. “He fought loads of dark wizards before. He’ll know what to do.”

“We don’t know who’s involved,” Harry replied. “They’ve been preparing for this for hundreds of years. For all we know, he could be in on it with them.”

“That’s a good point,” George conceded. “When he was in Hogwarts, they definitely would have tried to recruit him at the very least.”

“So, what do you think we should do?” Fred asked.

“We need to find out what’s really going on, or at the least enough so that Hermione and Draco believe us,” Harry explained.

“Yeah, but how?” Fred asked. “They’re a pretty secretive bunch. They’re not just going to talk about it in the open.”

“We need to watch them,” Harry explained. “They meet regularly in the library, but they must also meet somewhere else. We need to find out where that is.”

Fred and George shared a look. “I think we can help with that,” Fred said as he pulled out a blank piece of parchment and tapped it with his wand. “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good.”

Ron and Harry looked down at the parchment in surprise as letters appeared on the once blank parchment.

Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs are proud to present the Marauder’s Map.

“That’s everyone in Hogwarts, where they are, what they’re doing, every second of every day,” George explained.

“Where did you get this?” Ron asked in surprise.

“We nicked it from Filch during our first year,” George explained. “It took us ages to figure out how it worked, too.”

“Who are they, these Marauders?” Harry asked. 

“Don’t know,” Fred and George replied. “Probably students before us.”

“We’ll keep an eye on them,” Fred promised.

“Ok,” Harry agreed. “We’ll figure out what they’re up to, and if it’s as bad as I think it is, we can bring it to the Minister.”

“Alright,” Fred nodded. “We all need to agree on this. This is just to find out what they’re up to. We’re not going to fight them.”

Harry and Ron nodded in agreement.

“I have to go,” Harry said as he looked down at his watch. “I have my meeting with the Headmaster soon.”

Harry walked out of the classroom and made his way to the Headmaster’s office, passing by the same hallways he had used to escape the first time.

He knew this ‘meeting’ had nothing to do with seeing how he was settling into Hogwarts. He could only hope that Ted’s letter had done the job.

He stood facing the stone gargoyle that had chased him through the hallways and said the password, “ice mice.”

When the gargoyle moved out of the way, he took a deep breath and walked up the winding staircase.

“Hello my boy,” Albus smiled up from his desk. “Please have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair in front of him.

“Remember, no eye contact,” Merlin warned. 

Harry moved forward, sitting down in the same chair he found himself in the first time he was in the headmaster’s office.

“Thank you for coming,” Dumbledore started. “How are you settling in at Hogwarts?”

“Fine,” Harry replied, keeping his eyes averted. 

“I would say it is considerably better than fine,” Albus smiled. “You’re the top student for your year. Very impressive.” 

“Why am I here Professor?” Harry asked, cutting to the chase. 

Albus sighed, looking down at his desk for a moment and tapping into his grandfatherly persona. “This is difficult for me to say, Harry, but I fear I have made a grave mistake, or, to be more accurate, a series of them.”

“I taught your mother and father when they were students here,” Albus explained. “And as you well know, I have been working with your sister to craft her public image for quite some time now.”

“Neither one of your parents said very much about you, and what they did say… Well, it was not very flattering. At the time, I had no reason to distrust them, so I took what they said at face value. That was not fair to you, and for that, I humbly apologize,” he said, doing his best to look contrite.

Harry looked at Dumbledore distrustfully. “I was told this meeting would be about school. That hasn’t been the case so far.”

“You’re quite right,” Albus replied. “I wanted to apologize to you, and this seemed to be the only way to do so. You are well within your rights to contact your solicitor and take whatever actions you deem appropriate.”

Harry kept his face impassive, but he clearly understood what Dumbledore was hinting at. He had something on him, but he would not allow himself to be pushed around by it.

“You sent someone to kidnap me,” Harry said, going on the offensive.

“Yes,” Albus admitted. “I must take responsibility for that as well. That was not my intention, but I can see now how Alistar could have misunderstood me.”

“He fought on the front lines of the war, and I sometimes forget that he hasn’t truly left the battlefield behind,” Albus replied, anticipating this from Harry. “My first letter didn’t seem to reach you, so I sent Alistar. He was only supposed to make sure you received my message. I have already spoken with him at length about that.”

“He’s very good, certainly much more cautious than before,” Merlin pointed out. “Ask him about giving Glory the credit for the Vault.”

“You also talked to me about Glory. You wanted me to give her the credit for solving Merlin’s Cypher,” Harry pointed out.

“Yes, I did,” Albus replied. “I was led to believe that Glory had a larger part to play in solving the cypher than she did.”

“She didn’t play any part in solving it,” Harry retorted.

“Yes, in retrospect, that is obvious,” Albus agreed. “I suppose it was simply a matter of wanting to believe in something so much that I ignored everything to the contrary.”

“I have made mistakes, and I am sorry for that. All I ask for is the chance to make things right between us,” Albus finished.

Harry stared at the man that had tried to erase his memories just a few weeks ago, now apologizing to him. He didn’t believe it for a moment. The only things Dumbledore was sorry about were letting him escape, and not use the memory charm on him.

“I don’t trust you,” Harry finally said. “If we have another meeting, regardless of what you say beforehand, my solicitor will also be here,” he said as he stood up to leave.

“Wait, before you leave, there’s something else that came to my attention,” Albus said. “It’s about Tom and the Leaky Cauldron.”

Harry stopped, looking back at Dumbledore suspiciously. “What do you know about that?”

“I know Tom is having trouble making his rent payments,” Albus informed him. “And from what I’ve heard, you are trying to buy the property.”

“What of it?” Harry asked.

“British Wizarding society is a very small community,” Albus explained. “Anything that happens in Diagon Alley gets a lot of attention, and your solicitor did little to hide his intentions. A more subtle approach will yield better results.” 

“As an olive branch, I’m willing to use my contacts to see if we can get this resolved so that Tom can remain in Diagon Alley,” Albus offered.

“Thanks for the offer, but I have complete faith in Tom’s abilities,” Harry said as he left.

Albus smiled inwardly as he watched the boy leave. The seed was now planted, and with a little more pressure, he could drive a wedge between them. 

After he was sure Harry was gone, Albus threw a pinch of floo powder into the fireplace, calling the offices of Eliphas Dodge.

“Hello old friend,” Albus smiled. 

“Albus,” Eliphas greeted. “How are you?”

“Very well,” Albus replied. “I wanted to thank you again for your assistance with the trial. You performed admirably.”

“What’s a favor between friends?” Eliphas asked, brushing off the compliment.

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Albus denied. “With a client like Lord Potter, it was no simple task defending him.”

“Well, that’s true,” Eliphas admitted. “After his conduct at the end of the trial, I told him to find alternate representation if he finds himself in trouble again.”

“Understandable,” Albus nodded. “Hopefully, he won’t cause us any more problems in the future.”

Harry stood inside the stone room of his mind with Merlin. “It’s only a matter of time before Andre figures out his memory spell didn’t work. What do you think my chances are against him?”

“Not good,” Merlin admitted. “He has the advantage of age and experience over you, and that’s doesn’t take into account the rest of his group.”

“Then we have to step up my training,” Harry decided.

“Yes,” Merlin agreed. “You’ve made some improvement to your speed and endurance. I had hoped we would have more time to hone those skills first, but we will need to start your instruction on the deep magics sooner than I intended.”

“You mentioned that before when you helped Ben,” Harry remembered. “What are the deep magics?”

“These are the magics that were used long ago, before wizard kind learned to create enchantments and focuses. They are both powerful and dangerous, and not to be taken lightly,” Merlin warned.

“As a magical being, you naturally produce magic, then you focus it and expel it through a specific point on your body. The most prominent one is in the palm of your wand hand, but not the only one. You have these points all over your body.”

“So I can cast spells from any part of my body?” Harry asked.

“With training, yes,” Merlin continued. “But it is far more than that, because those points can not only expel magic from your body, but also draw in the magic from outside. You can use it to amplify the power of your spells many times over.”

“Why doesn’t everyone know about this?” Harry asked.

“It’s a double-edged sword,” Merlin explained. “If you’re not prepared or skilled enough, the results are dangerous, if not deadly.”

“Your body can only contain so much magic. If you draw in too much, not only will it be extremely painful, but damaging to your body. The same thing will occur if you expel the magic too quickly. It could burn out your magical pathways, and re-constructing them will be difficult.”

“Ok,” Harry nodded, accepting the risk. “How do we start?”

“The first thing you need to do is identify these points on your body,” Merlin explained.

“How many are there?” Harry asked.

“Hundreds,” Merlin replied.

“Oh,” Harry replied, realizing the enormity of the task in front of him.

“We’ll start with your wand hand,” Merlin continued. “Without drawing you wand, expel a small amount of magic from your hand.”

Harry nodded, looking down at his hand, thinking about what it felt like when he cast a spell, then concentrated on pushing his magic out.

“There, do you feel it?” Merlin asked.

Harry nodded. He could feel the magic he was expelling from the palm of his hand.

“Good,” Merlin replied. “There will be more points on your hand. Try to find them.”

Harry concentrated again, picking up another point on his palm, and pushed his magic out from there, but noticed it was more difficult than the first one.

“Good, you picked on that,” Merlin said. “You don’t normally use that point, so it’s underdeveloped. With more practice, it will strengthen that pathway, and become easier.”

Harry nodded, finding another point and repeating the process.

“You will learn something called hardening,” Merlin explained. “Rather than let your magic float away, you will encase your fist with it. With enough training, you could punch through solid rock with it.”

“And if I can do it with my whole body, it will be like a suit of armor,” Harry realized. 

“More than that,” Merlin replied. “It will be constructed out of your magic, so it won’t have any weight, and it can protect you from certain spells. The more points you expel the magic from, the more magic you use, and the stronger it becomes.”

“How do I do it?” Harry asked, having reached ten points in his wand hand. 

“It’s all based on your intent,” Merlin explained. “Concentrate. Feel the magic bind it to your skin.“

Harry nodded, following Merlin’s instructions. He felt his magic slowly spread across his hands like a second skin. 

“Good,” Merlin said. “Not too much, or you’ll exhaust your magic. It will take time and practice to get this right.”

“You said before we can draw in magic from around us. Can I do that to strengthen the spell even more?” Harry asked.

“You could one day,” Merlin agreed. “But that is a long way off. You’ll need to learn how to walk before you can run.”

“How strong is it now?” Harry asked as he thickened the layer of magic covering his hand.

“About the equivalent of a few sheets of parchment,” Merlin replied. “But it seems you’ve worked out the next step on your own. The more densely you can pack the magic together, the stronger it becomes.”

“While you practice, I’ll show you more of what I learned in my life.”

Chapter Text

Merlin spent the next two years learning as much as he could from Gaius. The man had no magic of his own, but his knowledge of remedies and cures more than made up for that.

Under Gaius's instruction, he learned how to refine his medicines, use fewer ingredients, and get much more potent results in a fraction of the time.

Soon after Gaius realized Merlin had a talent for brewing, he nearly doubled his workload, and together they turned the small shack that barely turned a profit into a thriving business, getting more and more customers each day.

With the little free time Merlin had between brewing and sourcing ingredients, he searched the town, looking into the other apothecaries to see if there was anyone else like him, but as far as he could tell, he was the only one.

As Merlin's reputation grew, the apothecaries that shunned him when he first arrived in town fell over themselves, trying to hire him away from Gaius, especially as their drop in income became more apparent with each passing season.

Merlin turned down all these offers without any hesitation. The old man had given him a chance when no one else would, teaching him all that he knew as they grew closer.

As the months passed, Gaius took an almost fatherly role in his life, teaching him to read, and explaining how to manage the business.

Merlin dutifully sent money home to his mother, increasing the amounts he sent back as the business grew more profitable.

Merlin returned from another day of exploring the town, having expanded his search beyond the apothecaries some time ago in the hopes of finding others like him.

He pushed open the door to the shop to find Gaius arguing with another man he recognized. Jonas.

He was the owner of the largest apothecary in town, and had tried to hire him away from Gaius on more than one occasion.

"For the last time, I ain't interested in selling," Gaius said gruffly

"Come on Gaius, just think about it," Jonas smiled. "We both get something out of this. You get a pouch full of gold, I'll even keep you on to run the place. You'll get a sum of gold each month and not have to worry about where your next meal is coming from."

"Aye, and you won't lose anymore business to me," Gaius retorted. "Sounds like you get a lot more out of it than me."

"You get a nice nest egg to retire on," Jonas pointed out, keeping the smile plastered on his face as he turned to leave. "Do you don't really want to spend the rest of your life working? Just give it some thought, ok?"

"Oh, hello Merlin, didn't see you there. Did you give any thought to my offer?" Jonas asked.

"No," Merlin shook his head. "I'm happy where I am," he said, holding the door open for him.

Jonas nodded as he stepped through the door. "Well, the offer's always open. Just let me know when you want to make some real money."

"Jonas again, huh?" Merlin said as the man left.

"Hmm," Gaius replied. "The man won't take no for an answer, as if I'd ever sell to the likes of that fraud."

Merlin nodded in understanding. Jonas's reputation around the apothecaries was well earned. He had the largest shop in town, and the most customers, but his success had nothing to do with any skill he had as a brewer.

Jonas had a rich uncle in the city that arranged for him to buy his medicines at a discount, then he re-sold it in town, but not before he mixed in whatever cheap ingredients he could find to double if not triple the size of his stock.

He sold them at a higher price on the claim that he ordered it from the city, and that it was much higher quality than what customers could find anywhere else in town.

For many years, his business model worked, and he earned a good income. Even after diluting the product, the quality was still consistently higher than what his customers could find anywhere else, or at least that was true until Merlin arrived.

Not even Merlin realized it at the time, but he was subconsciously using his magic in the brewing process, increasing the potency, despite the comparatively lower quality ingredients, and less refined techniques.

The townspeople slowly took notice, as they recovered faster, and Gaius kept his prices low to compete with Jonas, slowly carving out a larger share of the market.

It took less than a year for Jonas to notice his profits drop. That was when the offers started, first to Merlin, then to Gaius when he realized Merlin wouldn't leave his friend high and dry, no matter how much money he offered.

"Get to work," Gaius said as he pointed to the cauldron in the corner of the room. "I'll have the ingredients ready for you."

Merlin nodded as he rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

Merlin woke up in the middle of the night, hearing a loud crash, followed by another. He quickly made his way out of his bedroom to find two men smashing everything they could get their hands on.

"Get out!" Merlin demanded, picking up a broken chair leg and pointing it threateningly at the two men.

The men turned around instantly, drawing their swords, and pointing them towards him.

Merlin gulped as the moonlight glinted off their swords, and he realized just how much danger he was in.

One of them moved towards him, brandishing his sword, before the other one grabbed him by the shoulder, stopped him. "No, remember what he said. He doesn't want the boy harmed."

"It's your lucky day, boy," the first one said as he sheathed his sword and walked out of the door they had just smashed through.

"Why did you do this?" Merlin demanded, finding his courage again now that their swords were sheathed.

"This is a warning, boy," the second one replied. "It would be best for the old man if he closed shop, permanently."

Merlin's mind whirled as he thought about what they said, coming to the only logical conclusion. Who would benefit most from Gaius going out of business? "Jonas sent you."

The two men looked at each other for a moment before they drew their swords again. "You really shouldn't have said that, boy," the second one said.

"We'll make it quick," the first one said, regretfully. "You won't feel a thing."

Merlin panicked as he swung the chair leg in front of him. "Stay back!" He demanded, knowing that the only way out of the shop lay behind the two men.

The second one swung his sword, easily cutting through the chair leg. Merlin's knees shook as his life flashed before his eyes. Was this really how he was going to die?

That's when he felt it, a warm feeling in his chest, and the men froze in their tracks. A heartbeat later, his magic lashed out, smashing them heavily into a wall.

The two men slowly got to their feet, groaning in pain, as they tried to make sense of what happened. That was when they saw it, the faint glow of magic around Merlin. With matching looks of fear on their faces they rushed to the door, disappearing into the night.

Merlin looked down at the remains of the chair leg in his hand before dropping it to the floor, taking in all the destruction the two men had caused.

'Why would Jonas do this?' Merlin wondered. The man was greedy, but he never resorted to violence before, at least as far as he knew.

Gaius walked into the shop the following morning, looking around in shock. "What happened?" He demanded.

Merlin put down the broom with a sigh. "Two men broke in last night and smashed up the place."

"You alright?" Gaius asked.

"I'm fine. I hid in the spare room until they were gone," Merlin lied. He had a long time to think, and as much as he wanted to tell Gaius the truth, he couldn't bring himself to do it, not after what happened to his father, and all the warnings his mother gave him.

He didn't know what to do. He used magic on the men that attacked the shop. It was only a matter of time before they told Jonas, if they hadn't already. What would Jonas do when he found out? It was all a mess.

"Alright," Gaius sighed. "Go get something to eat. We'll get this place cleaned up soon enough, maybe get a stronger door while we're at it," he said, looking at the broken door leaning against the wall.

"Ok," Merlin agreed. "I'll be back soon," he said as he walked out the door, heading to the nearest tavern.

'Maybe it's best to move on,' Merlin thought. If the truth comes out, it will only be a matter of time before the king sends his soldiers. The last thing he wanted was to make things more difficult for Gaius.

He was so lost in thought he didn't even see Jonas walk up beside him. "Hello Merlin," he smiled knowingly.

Merlin looked up, startled to see Gaius walking beside him. "Sorry Gaius, I don't have time to talk," he said, trying to walk past the man, hoping that if he ignored the problem, it would just go away. "I've got a lot of work to do."

"Hold on Merlin," Jonas said, grabbing his shoulder and forcibly leading him to a deserted alley.

Merlin tried to break free, but the older man dug his fingers into his shoulder painfully as he led him to the alley and shoved him forward.

"I heard something interesting about you," Jonas said, when he was sure they were alone. "You can do magic… real magic."

"Where did you hear something like that?" Merlin said, trying to laugh it off as a joke.

"You already know that," Jonas said, the smile disappearing from his face. "The men I sent to smash up Gaius's shack. They told me everything this morning."

"They were drunk," Merlin lied. "They came in shouting about how they were there on your orders, and to leave town if I knew what was good for me. Maybe I should tell one of the guards, or maybe even the magistrate about it?" He threatened.

"It's a good try Merlin, it really is," Jonas replied. "But neither of them drink. That's why I hired them in the first place, far more dependable that way, and we both know you're not going to the magistrate, not with the king's law."

"What do you want?" Merlin demanded. "For me to leave town? Fine, just leave Gaius out of this. He doesn't know anything."

"No Merlin, what I want is what I've always wanted, for you to come work for me, you and the old man," Jonas said. "This doesn't have to get ugly. Convince Gaius to take my offer, and you'll both make a lot of money."

Merlin looked at Jonas warily. Could he really trust him to keep his secret? Did he even have a choice?

"Convince the old man to sell," Jonas said. "I don't care how you do it."

"What if I just leave town?" Merlin asked. "You'll never see me again, and things will go back to the way they were before."

"Now, why would I want that?" Jonas asked. "Your work is even better than what I can get in the city, and with cheaper ingredients, too."

"I'll come by your shop in a couple of days, so that Gaius can sign over the shop to me," Jonas said as he left the alley. "Don't disappoint me."

When Merlin returned to the apothecary, he was nervous. After his 'talk' with Jonas, he came to realize that he would never be safe with Jonas holding this over his head, but he didn't want to leave either. He built a life here, and he didn't want to start over some place else.

Maybe he could try it, for a little while. Jonas wouldn't turn on him if he was making him a profit, and he could always leave if Jonas went back on his word.

"Good, you're back," Gaius said. "Not all the ingredients were destroyed. We can probably fill a few of today's orders."

"Gaius, I've been thinking, maybe you should take Jonas's offer," Merlin said.

"Bah!" Gaius dismissed. "I wouldn't sell that man a bucket of water if he was on fire."

"If you sell to him, then you won't have to worry if someone breaks in, that'll be Jonas's problem." Merlin pointed out. "You might even get enough to retire on."

"There'll be enough for me to retire when I'm dead," Gaius dismissed. "Now, are you going to help me with this poultice or keep flapping your gums?"

Merlin sighed, rolling up his sleeves. He would have his work cut out for him convincing Gaius to sell.

He spent the rest of the day going back and forth with his stubborn friend, but he wasn't having any success.

After the fifth time he asked, Gaius had enough. "Alright, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked, trying to play dumb.

"Ever since you got back, all you can talk about is selling the apothecary to Jonas," Gaius replied. "So out with it."

"Gaius, it's a lot of money… what if they come back? We can just keep replacing destroyed equipment and ingredients," Merlin explained.

"Look lad," Gaius sighed. "I know it's a lot of money, and a couple of years ago I probably would have taken him up on it too, but things are different now."

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked.

"…My wife, she died in childbirth," Gaius explained. "My parents died a few seasons back. Until you came along, I was alone."

"When I look at you," Gaius put his hand on Merlin's shoulder. "I see the son I wish I had. I want you to take over the shop after I die. That's why I don't want to sell to Jonas."

Merlin's eyes welled up. He noticed his relationship with Gaius change over the past two years as well. He wasn't as guarded with his recipes, took the time to teach him things, instead of just barking orders.

Merlin nodded, not saying a word as they got back to work. 'I have to think of something else, find another way,' he thought. He couldn't abandon Gaius.

As the day went on, Merlin thought long and hard about Jonas's actions, finally coming to a realization. Jonas had a simple way of getting his market share back. He just had to stop diluting his medicines, or just reduce how much he diluted it by, and then drop his prices enough to force them out of business. It would take longer, but it wouldn't cost anywhere near as much as buying out the shop.

'Jonas isn't a fool,' Merlin thought. 'He must have realized the same thing.'

'Something must have changed,' he realized. 'More than just the loss in revenue.'

It was risky, but Merlin at least knew what he had to do next. He could sneak into Jonas's shop, look at his record book, and whatever other documents Jonas had to figure out what he was really up to.

Merlin stood in the alleyway, looking at Jonas's shop carefully. He needed to be sure there was no one inside. It was already dark, and no one had walked past the shop in the last half hour.

He carefully crept up to the building, looking through the window just to be sure no one was inside.

He checked the windows on the ground floor, but they were all locked tight. Looking up, he spotted a window on the second floor. It was Jonas's office, and the likely place for him to find what he was looking for.

Merlin reached into his robe, pulling out a dagger, and wedged it between the window and the sill, carefully pushing up the latch and forced the window open.

He climbed into the building and made his way up the stairs and into Jonas's office, listening carefully to make sure no one was there.

Merlin used the dagger again to force open the desk drawer, making sure not to leave any marks on the face.

It wouldn't take much for Jonas to put together that he was the one breaking in.

In the drawer he found what he was looking for, the record book. He opened it to the entries for the last few months.

Jonas was making less than he and Gaius were, sometimes even losing money. This didn't make any sense. How could Jonas have the lifestyle he did on this kind of income?

He looked back a further six months, finding the earnings he was expecting. Jonas still had roughly the same amount of customers, but his costs were much higher now than they used to be.

Merlin went through the entries day by day, looking for the date that things changed. After thumbing through a few dozen pages, he found it. Three months ago his prices for remedies tripped.

There were no entries to explain the change, so he started looking through the rest of the desk to see what else he could find.

In the second drawer, he found a letter from Jonas's uncle. It turned out his uncle couldn't get him the discounts he used to. The apothecaries in the city weren't willing to sell at a discount for bulk sales anymore. They were apparently getting enough business that they didn't need it anymore.

The next few letters were much the same, his uncle trying to find alternate suppliers with no success, leaving Jonas with only one option, purchasing at the much higher retail prices.

He cross checked it with the record book. Jonas had tried diluting his products even more, but it led to an even larger drop in sales, forcing him to change it back.

Merlin looked around the rest of the office, trying to see if there was anything else they could find.

Even though he understood why Jonas was so interested in buying Gaius's shop, it didn't really fix his problem.

Merlin sat down in the chair and heard a creaking noise. When he looked down, he noticed something. There was something wrong with the floorboards. He moved the chair out of the way, examining the floor more closely.

A section of the floorboards had two smaller pieces, only a couple of feet wide, instead of going the length of the room, like the others.

Merlin wedged his dagger between the floorboards and lifted the section. 'This is interesting,' he thought as he saw four pouches underneath.

He opened one, looking inside. It was filled with gold coins. He opened the other ones to find the same. There was more than enough to keep the shop open for another five years at least.

'So why is Jonas so desperate to get his discounts back now?' Merlin thought.

He went back to the record book, going over the monthly revenues, when it finally clicked. There was far more gold here than what he was making from the shop.

It was far too much to get from his rich uncle, so the gold had to come from some other source, but what?

He couldn't find anything else in the office, no matter how hard he looked, but he knew this gold was the key. If he could find where the gold came from, he could use that to get Jonas off his back.

Merlin carefully put everything back where he found it and crept back out of the shop. He would have to search Jonas's house next, which would be much more difficult.

He thought about his next steps as he returned to Gaius's shop, never noticing the hooded figures watching him leave.

Merlin returned to the shop and went to sleep, hoping to get at least a few hours rest before he started work in the morning.

Merlin opened the shop, yawning as he got back to work, catching up on the late orders since the break-in.

He noticed Gaius was running a little late, but put it out of his mind as he got to work, too preoccupied with figuring out what Jonas was up to. By noon, Merlin started to get worried. Gaius had never been this late before. He wondered if he should just close up shop and go to his house and check on him.

Just when he was about to leave, he heard the door open. "Sorry we have to close for a little while…." The rest of the words died on his lips as he saw who walked in.

It was one of the men that tried to destroy the shop. "What are you doing here?" Merlin demanded.

"Jonas wants to see you," the man replied, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"I don't have time right now," Merlin replied. "I have something else I need to take care of."

"If you mean the old man, he's already with Jonas," the man replied.

"What did you do?!" Merlin demanded. "If you hurt him-"

"Take it easy, kid," the man interrupted. "You don't want anyone outside to hear us, do you?"

Merlin deflated, realizing that position he was in.

"Let's go," the man said, walking outside.

With no other choice, Merlin closed the shop and followed the man, heading towards Jonas's home. He didn't understand what was going on. Jonas said he would give him a few days, so what was he doing with Gaius?

They reached the outskirts of the town and stepped past the gate of Jonas's home, the largest house in town. He found Jonas and the other man waiting for him in the entryway.

"What's going on?" Merlin demanded. "Where's Gaius?"

"Merlin," Jonas said, shaking his head in disappointment. "I tried to be civil with you. I really did, and the offer I made you was generous. Why did you have to go and ruin that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Merlin denied, getting worried.

"You were at my shop last night," Jonas replied.

"No, I wasn't," Merlin lied again. "You must have mistaken me for someone else."

"Merlin, did you really think I would leave my shop unprotected? One of my guards saw you leaving. So I'm going to ask this once. What are you planning?" Jonas asked, a cold look in his eyes.

"This is a misunderstanding," Merlin said, getting more worried with each passing second. "Where's Gaius?"

"Gaius? He's in the other room," Jonas replied. "Why don't we all have a chat together?" He said as he opened the door and walked inside.

Merlin followed Jonas, a bad feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. He had never seen Jonas act like this before.

As he stepped through the door, his eyes widened in shock. Gaius was there, tied to a chair, one of his eyes was swollen shut, and there was a large bruise covering the right side of his face.

"I asked Gaius what you were doing at my shop last night," Jonas explained. "He said he didn't know anything."

"Merlin?" Gaius groaned as he looked up with his good eye. "What's going on? They said you broke into Jonas's shop… I told they you wouldn't do something like that but-"

"Yes," Jonas cut him off. "He's been saying that since he got here. So I'm going to ask you again, Merlin. What were you doing at my shop?"

Merlin looked at the bruised and battered form of Gaius, and then the smug look on Jonas's face, and he felt his anger take hold of him. He could feel his magic coursing through his veins, ready to lash out at any moment.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Jonas replied as four archers marched into the room, two of them holding him at arrow point, and the other two pointed at Gaius. "You may be able to use magic, but I doubt that makes you faster than an arrow."

"You've gone crazy Jonas!" Gaius shouted. "Merlin doesn't have any magic!"

Jonas looked between Merlin, and Gaius before he let out a dark laugh. "Oh, that's rich. You never told him, did you?"

"What's he talking about, Merlin?" Gaius demanded.

Merlin wanted to answer, but he couldn't bring himself to look at his friend. This was all his fault. He had thought he was so clever, sneaking into Jonas's shop the way he did. He should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

"Is it true?" Gaius asked.

"…It's true," Merlin replied, unable to lie to his friend any longer.

"At least we're getting somewhere now," Jonas said as he moved behind Gaius and held a dagger to his throat. "Now once more, Merlin. What were you doing in my shop?"

"I wanted to find out why you wanted to buy Gaius's shop so badly, and also find a way to get you to back off," Merlin replied.

"And what did you find?" Jonas asked.

"Nothing." Merlin shook his head.

"You're a terrible liar Merlin," Jonas commented as he used the tip of his dagger to put a shallow cut into Gaius's neck. "What did you find?" He repeated.

"Stop! I found your record book," Merlin admitted. "I know your supplier isn't giving you a discount anymore."

"See? Was that so hard?" Jonas asked, but made no move to remove the dagger from Gaius's neck.

Gaius stared at Merlin, a look of betrayal on his face.

"I'm sorry Gaius," Merlin said quietly. "All of this is my fault."

"Now the question is, what to do with you?" Jonas replied. "You know far too much about my business for my liking."

"You still need us," Merlin reminded him. "You're business will go under if we don't supply you. No one else in town can do that. We can still make a deal."

"That's a tempting offer," Jonas agreed. "But the problem is, I can't trust you," he said as he pressed the dagger to Gaius's neck again.

"NO!" Merlin shouted in panic, his magic spasming out of his control and sending a shock wave in all directions.

He could only watch in horror as Jonas's dagger cut deeply into Gaius's neck, spewing blood everywhere as it sent everyone in the room smashing against the walls.

He didn't even feel it when one of the arrows bit into his arm, and the other into his leg as he looked at Gaius.

He rushed to his side, pressing his hand tightly against his neck, trying to stop the bleeding. "Just hold on Gaius. I'll stop the bleeding and get you patched up," he pleaded.

Gaius could only look up at him. Despite Merlin's best efforts, the light slowly drained out of his eyes.

"NO!" Merlin screamed, not wanting to believe what he was seeing. "You can't die Gaius," he pleaded.

Gaius couldn't talk. He could only reach out, squeezing Merlin's forearm once before the light left his eyes for good.

Merlin looked at the body of his friend mournfully as he felt his eyes well up with tears. It wasn't fair. Gaius had nothing to do with any of this.

Merlin looked to his side when he heard a groan. Jonas was getting up. He pounced on the man, a rage overtaking him as he grabbed the dagger, holding it to Jonas's neck.

Jonas's eyes widened as came to, realizing the position he was in. "Take it easy Merlin."

"You killed him!" Merlin accused.

"NO!" Jonas denied. "I was only trying to scare you."

"You killed him!" Merlin repeated angrily.

"I have money! At the shop you can take it all, just let me go," Jonas pleaded as he felt the blade of the dagger bite into his neck.

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE MONEY!" Merlin roared as he raised the dagger into the air before slamming it into Jonas's chest over and over again.

Merlin rubbed his eyes as he sat up, confused about where he was for a moment, before it all came rushing back to him.

He was lying against the wall, surrounded by dead bodies. His clothes were covered in blood. He didn't remember anything after he attacked Jonas, but looking around, he could guess what happened. The stab wounds on the four archers making it abundantly clear.

He felt his eyes well up with tears as he looked at the still form of Gaius. 'It's my fault,' he thought.

When his magic blasted Jonas away his dagger cut into Gaius's neck. It was his magic that killed Gaius.

"You don't have time to mourn right now," a voice spoke into Merlin's mind. "It's only a matter of time before someone shows up."

"What? Who is that?" Merlin demanded. Was he going crazy?

"You're not crazy," the voice replied, "but it's not going to look good for you if someone finds you here, especially in the state you're in."

"Who are you? How do I know I can trust you?" Merlin demanded.

"My name is Amatheon," the voice replied. "And you don't have a choice, not unless you want the town guards to find you. Do what I tell you, and you have a chance to get out of this alive."

Merlin looked at the dead bodies all around him, and then his blood-stained clothes, realizing the voice was right. "What should I do?"

"Start a fire, then remove your clothes and throw them in," Amatheon said.

"Alright," Merlin replied, stripping out of his clothes and tossing them into the fireplace. "Now what?"

"Go upstairs. Jonas was close to the same size as you. Bandage your wounds, then pick out a set of clothes, nothing too flashy, you need to blend in."

Merlin nodded as he went upstairs to find some clothes. He didn't understand what was going on, but he was too confused and scared to question it. He quickly got dressed, throwing on a hooded cloak for good measure.

"Good, now you're going to leave. Take Jonas's keys and lock the door, then head back to Gaius's shop," Amatheon explained.

"Gaius," Merlin repeated. "I can't just leave him here," he said adamantly.

"You're going to have to," Amatheon replied.

"No," Merlin shook his head. "I can't leave him here, not like this."

"…Fine," Amatheon replied. "If you insist on doing this, take Jonas's wagon and horses. Put your friend in the back and make sure he's covered up."

It was almost an hour before Merlin was out on the road, going to Gaius's shop. Thankfully, it was still dark, and there was no one outside.

Merlin quickly gathered up his things, placing them in the back of the wagon.

"Alright, you're almost there. Now go to Jonas's shop," Amatheon instructed.

"Jonas's shop? Why?" Merlin asked.

"You're leaving town," Amatheon explained. "With Jonas dead and Gaius missing, it won't take much for the town guards to figure out you were involved. You'll need gold to survive, and Jonas won't need his anymore."

Merlin nodded, knowing that Amatheon was right.

He used the key he took from Jonas to get inside and quickly retrieved the pouches of gold, then returned to the wagon.

It was only after they reached the outskirts of the town that he felt his eyes well up with tears as the full weight of his actions hit him.

He had been careless. He never should have confronted Jonas's men or used his magic on them.

When Jonas threatened him, he should have just left town. He had gotten greedy, not willing to give up the life he had built, and it had cost Gaius his life.

Chapter Text

Harry sat down in his Defense Against the Darks Arts class, only half paying attention to Professor Green's lecture. He was too preoccupied with everything else that was going on.

Fred and George had been keeping an eye on the study group for the last few weeks, but so far, they hadn't done anything out of the ordinary.

He glanced at Hermione, and then Draco, watching as they took notes on Professor Green's lecture. He was worried about them, and what Andre was telling them.

Whenever he saw Hermione in the common room, she had her nose buried in one spell book or another, each of them far too advanced for her age and magical development. She also hadn't said a word to him since he told her he was leaving the study group.

Draco was much the same, choosing to keep his distance, even during classes. Sometimes he caught the blond glaring at him, as if he wanted to confront him, but he never followed through.

His lessons with Merlin continued, and he was becoming more proficient with the magic Merlin was teaching him. He expanded his magical sensing ability out another foot, but still hadn't come across the magical item that caught his interest.

The iron skin spell had improved a bit as well. He could coat both his arms up to the elbow with his magic now. It wasn't very strong yet, the equivalent of a few sheets of parchment, but it was a start.

He would need every advantage he could get against Andre and the rest of his study group.

Hermione looked up from her parchment, glancing at Potter. He wasn't even taking notes anymore. He stopped a few days ago, and somehow still managed to hold on to the top spot in the student ranking.

She remembered the letter she received from her mother, making her second guess herself about Potter even more.

She had pointed out, just like Ron, that Harry never lied to her before, and that she could be projecting the anger she felt towards her bullies back home onto Potter, who at least on the surface looked to be cut from the same cloth as them.

She also thought about what Andre told her, and how helpful and kind Beatrice had been to her. She even lent her advanced spell books to help her catch up with Potter. How could she turn her back on the study group after all they had done for her?

Hermione didn't know what to do, or who to believe. It was all just so confusing.

Draco let out a sigh of frustration as he looked down at his parchment, then the blank one on Potter's desk. He was staring out the window without a care in the world.

None of the Professors, save for Snape, even bothered to call him out for not paying attention anymore. Why would they? They knew, just as well as everyone else, he could answer any of their questions, and perform any spell they asked of him just as easily as breathing.

He had to spend more and more time studying, increasingly alongside Granger just to keep from falling further behind Potter. On the few occasions he tried to study with Crabbe and Goyle, he spent more of his time teaching them the basics than improving his own standing. It was a complete waste of his time.

Worse still, both Weasley and Perks were quickly rising up the ranks, now holding the fifth and sixth positions for their year.

If that wasn't bad enough, Potter was improving with each passing day. Both the power and the speed of his spell casting was leaving the rest of the first years in the dust.

He asked Bole what he could do to catch up, or at the very least, what he could do to slow down Potter, but the response he got was less than encouraging.

Trying to intimidate Potter was a non-starter. Unlike many of the other first years, Potter was no pushover.

No one below third year wanted any part of it. The damage to their own reputations if he somehow managed to come out on top would destroy their standing within the house.

Everyone above third year thought it was beneath them to involve themselves in first year squabbles, no matter how many galleons he promised them.

"Alright everyone, off you go to lunch," Professor Green said as she checked her watch. "I expect your essays to be handed in by tomorrow. No exceptions."

"Mr. Potter, please stay behind," she said as everyone packed their bags to leave.

"You wanted to speak to me, Professor?" Harry asked as the last student left.

"Yes," Olivia replied. "I noticed that you've been distracted over the last few days. It hasn't affected your schoolwork yet, but I'm a little concerned."

Harry looked at Professor Green for a moment, considering what to tell her. She was a good teacher, and he liked her, but at the same time, he wasn't sure if he could trust her with what happened.

What if she was working with Andre? What would happen if she told him the memory spell didn't work? He doubted he could beat Andre in a duel, let alone the rest of the study group.

That didn't even include Dumbledore, and whatever he was planning. He hired her after all. What if she was reporting everything she learned about him to Dumbledore?

"…I was just thinking about the trial," Harry replied, deciding to stick with a topic that was at least public knowledge. "The Wizengamot wants to me to take my father's place when I reach my magical maturity."

Olivia nodded. "You could do a lot of good there, pass laws, give a voice to people that are under represented by the government."

"Except I was never supposed to," Harry explained. "That was supposed to go to Glory."

"Because she's the girl-who-lived?" Olivia asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "It's not something I ever considered doing. I'm not sure it's even something I want." Especially after everything Merlin told him.

"Well, no one says you have to," Olivia pointed out. "All they can do is offer you the position. They can't make you accept it, but for the record, I think you should."

"Why?" Harry asked. "You read what they did to the Minister. They're only care about what benefits them, and their reputation, not anyone else."

"I know," Olivia agreed. "But it's still better than being on the outside looking in."

"Thank you Professor," Harry nodded. "I'll think about what you said."

"Alright, of you go to lunch," Olivia said. "And Mr. Potter, if you need to talk, my door is always open."

"Thanks," Harry replied as he packed up his things and left the classroom.

Harry had just sat down at his house table, ready to take a bite of his lunch when he spotted Dermott circling overhead. 'He must have just come back,' Harry realized.

He watched as the hawk landed in front of him, startling a good number of his classmates in the process. He dropped the letter in front of him, then picked up a piece of chicken from his plate and took off again.

Harry made a mental note to spend some time with Dermott to work on their bond before he picked up the letter and started to read.

Hi Harry,

It's good to hear from you! The first time I met Dermott he gave me the shock of my life! I got back to New York just fine. Thanks again for the ticket.

You said this lawyer of yours sent a letter to your headmaster to get him to back off, but don't let your guard down. He doesn't seem like the type that follows the rules.

Your scholarship program is a great idea too! I'm so proud of you. I knew you would do great things, Harry.

I would love for you to come for a visit in the summer. You can meet my nephew, Peter. He reminds me a lot of you, actually.

He's smart, and talented, just like you, and he also got dealt a a tough hand.

His parents passed away recently, car accident. That's why he's staying with us, but he's a tough kid. He'll get through it.

Don't wait so long to write next time,

Ben

Harry folded the letter and put it in his pocket, already planning on writing a return letter after Dermott took a few days to rest.

Draco watched as the giant hawk flew out of the great hall. 'Of course, Potter can't have a normal owl like the rest of us,' he thought derisively.

He needed to figure out something soon. There had to be something he could do to wrestle away the top spot from Potter.

Bole had offered him some advanced spell books to study, but most of it flew over his head. Besides, what good were advanced spells if they wouldn't be graded on them until fourth year? He needed something that would benefit him now.

Bole carefully studied Malfoy's face as he glared at Potter, certain that he had done his part to keep Malfoy in the study group. Playing on his insecurities had made it little more than child's play.

He was glad that Egwu, Winger, and Murk were dealing with the larger issue of replacing Potter and Weasley. As it stood, they were two people short, and running out of time.

The rest of the first years were nowhere near the caliber they needed. If they didn't come up with a solution soon, hundreds of years of meticulous planning would go up in smoke.

On paper, Longbottom should have been an ideal replacement, but so far, he had been a disappointment. Even with Potter taking him under his wing, he still wasn't showing any real improvements.

The same could be said for Crabbe and Goyle. The apple had certainly fallen far from the tree with that pair.

Potter's scholarship students were obviously out as well. Their loyalty to him would see them quit with just one word from him.

Hermione sat across from Malfoy in the library. The Slytherin wasn't exactly her first choice for a study partner. But considering how often they traded for second place in the ranking, he was the only other person that understood her drive to succeed.

"I looked through Beatrice's old notes. It looks like the lesson plans don't really change very much from year to year," Hermione said. "Potter probably knows that, too. That's why he's so far ahead."

"It's more than that," Draco said, shaking his head. "You saw how he caught Longbottom mid fall. Adult wizards would struggle to react that fast, and the actual power he manages to put behind each of his spells is well above even the third years. We're not going to catch up with him, let alone surpass him just by studying more."

A silence fell over them as they considered their options. It wasn't just that Harry was ahead of them. It was also Weasley and Perks. They had been exercising with Potter recently and were also climbing up the rankings quickly. Soon they would have even more competition just to keep their second and third place spots.

"Maybe we can spend more time practicing our spell casting," Hermione suggested. "Beatrice told me that the more we use our magic, the easier it gets to cast spells."

She had already borrowed some books from Beatrice about magical theory, and had been practicing her second and third years spells. It was going slower than she liked, but she was making some progress.

Draco glanced up from his homework at Granger. He would never admit it out loud, but he and Granger had a lot in common. They were both very competitive, worked hard, and had a lot to prove.

They bonded over their mutual dissatisfaction with their current rankings. Granger wasn't exactly his friend, he could still respect her abilities.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt," Draco agreed.

Harry sat in the common room, watching as Ron, and Seamus played a game of chess. Ron was predictably dominating the game. He was at least three steps ahead as he maneuvered Seamus into yet another trap.

Over the commotion of his other house-mates, he heard a tapping at the window, and looked over curiously.

An owl bearing the insignia of Gringott's Bank stared back at him.

He opened the window, letting the owl inside, who immediately held out its leg with a letter addressed to him.

"What you got there, Harry?" Seamus asked as he looked up from the game.

"A letter from Gringott's," Harry explained as he sat back down in his chair. "It's probably just a bank statement," he dismissed.

Seamus nodded, looking down at the chessboard, grimacing as he tried to figure out a way to salvage the game. Ron already had him in check.

Harry opened the letter, wondering what it was about. Most of this stuff should be going to Ted.

Harry Potter,

You impressed me when you solved Merlin's cypher. Such talent is rare.

I have come across a unique problem that I think your skills are well suited for.

I would like to offer you a consulting position with our curse breakers teams. If you accept the position, our curse breaker teams will send you the details of a ward scheme we are having difficulty solving. You will collect a fee for any progress you make towards solving it.

I have already sent the details of what we will offer to your solicitor. If you are interested, please contact us through him.

Chairman Gringott

Harry folded the letter, placing it in his pocket as he considered the offer.

"Be careful with goblins," Merlin warned. "They have plots within plots. It's almost impossible to tell what they're after until it's already over."

'I'll talk about it with Ted,' Harry thought. 'If it's just consulting work, it may not be too bad.'

"I'm going to turn in early. Goodnight guys," Harry said.

"Night Harry," Seamus and Ron replied.

Harry walked up the stairs to his dorm room, closed the curtains around his bed, and lay down, entering his mind scape.

He could see more improvements to the stone room. The walls had smoothed out completely, and the floor no longer jutted out in odd places.

He glanced at the bookshelf, a recent addition to his mind scape, filled with books representing what he had learned so far.

"You're dong well," Merlin said. "I think you'll see some big improvements on the iron skin spell soon."

"I hope so," Harry nodded. "Are there any other spells you can teach me? Something that would be useful in a fight?"

"Your body and your magic are nowhere near ready for the kinds of spells you're asking for," Merlin replied.

"What would happen if I tried?" Harry asked.

"There are three main considerations when it comes to spell casting," Merlin explained. "The amount of magic your body has to draw upon, the rate at which your magic replenishes itself, and how quickly you can circulate your magic through your body."

"Even with the work we've done so far, you're only eleven years old. If you go too quickly, it will strain your magic, weakening the power of your spells, and ultimately slowing down your progress."

"How long until I'm ready?" Harry asked. It was only a matter of time before his next confrontation with Andre.

"Months, possibly years," Merlin explained.

"There must be something," Harry insisted. "I'm not going to beat anyone with first year spells."

"There are rituals you can perform," Merlin explained. "But they all come at a steep price."

Harry nodded, remembering Merlin's test from the vault. "What can we do then?"

"You need to stick to your training plan," Merlin explained. "The iron skin spell will be the most advanced spell you'll have for the foreseeable future, so you have to make sure you're as efficient and creative as possible with the spells you've mastered."

"Are you going to show me more of your memories?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Merlin nodded. "These memories take place after I fled the town, and Amatheon explained who he was."

Harry didn't know quite how to feel about what Merlin did after Gaius died. The amount of grief Merlin felt must have been overwhelming.

"…Merlin, those people you killed. Do you regret it?" Harry asked.

Merlin was silent for a long moment. "I don't know," he admitted. "I wanted to save Gaius, and when he died, something just snapped. Even now, I don't remember exactly what happened… but I wanted them to feel the same pain I did."

"If you could go back and change things, would you?" Harry asked.

"Gaius died because of me. I'll always regret that, but it's not something I can change." Merlin answered.

Harry nodded, understanding that it was probably the best answer he would get out of Merlin.

The stone room faded away as Harry viewed Merlin's next memory.

Merlin rode out of town on the wagon he stole from Jonas, doing his best not to draw any attention to himself. He knew it was only a matter of time before someone discovered Jonas's body, along with the other men he killed.

The guilt weighed heavily on him, knowing that it was his carelessness that had led to this. He glanced behind him at the hay he had used to cover Gaius's body with a heavy heart.

At mid afternoon, Merlin pulled off the main road and drove into the woods. He needed to find a secluded area to bury his mentor.

He should have run as soon as Jonas's thugs saw him do magic, then none of this would have happened.

He felt an immense sense of regret and sadness as he dug a grave for Gaius and placed his body inside. No one would know what happened to him, or where he had gone. No one would have a place to go and mourn him.

"Who are you?" Merlin demanded of the voice in his head.

"I told you, my name is Amatheon," he explained calmly.

"Where are you? How are you doing this?" Merlin demanded.

"It's complicated, but I exist in your mind," Amatheon explained.

"Are you some kind of demon?" Merlin asked fearfully. "Sent to lead me astray?"

"No, nothing like that," Amatheon explained. "I was born, and lived, much the same way you do now, then I grew old and died."

"Then how can you be here?" Merlin asked. "Shouldn't you be… wherever people go when they die?"

"I don't fully understand it," Amatheon replied. "But when I was alive, I could use magic just like you, and after a certain point in my life, there was a voice in my head, too. He taught me about magic, and how to control my abilities."

"Is that the same for everyone that can use magic?" Merlin asked.

"No… we are different," Amatheon explained.

"You helped me after what happened," Merlin said. "Why?"

"I think I'm supposed to," Amatheon explained. "But I don't know why."

"Magic has done nothing good for me," Merlin said bitterly. "All it causes is pain and suffering. I don't want to learn anymore."

"Magic is a tool, Merlin. It isn't inherently good or evil. What matters is how we use it," Amatheon replied.

"Gaius is dead because of me, because of my magic," Merlin denied.

"You don't know how to control your magic yet," Amatheon explained. "It will only get worse until you do. I can help you, if you let me."

Merlin sat there, looking at Gaius's grave, and thinking for a long time. Could he really stop using his magic, even after everything that happened? What if something like this happened again? Was there really a way to control his magic?

"…I want to learn to control my magic, so I don't hurt anyone else," Merlin finally decided. He couldn't risk something like this happening ever again. "But after that I'm done."

"Alright," Amatheon agreed. "We have a lot of work to do."

"How long will it take?" Merlin asked.

"It will be at least a year to control when you use your magic, even longer to cast spells properly."

Merlin nodded. "What do I have to do?"

"Today, nothing," Amatheon explained. "You need to go to the next town and find a place to stay for the night. You're exhausted."

"After that, you'll need to keep moving. We can't stay in the same place for more than a few days at a time, a week at most."

"Why not?" Merlin asked.

"Your magic is getting stronger," Amatheon explained. "So it's only a matter of time before someone else sees you use your magic. You need to be gone before they report you to a local lord or soldier."

Merlin sighed, realizing Amatheon was right. He was no match for trained soldiers, and if he wasn't careful, the king would find out about him, then his mother would be in danger, too.

Merlin took one last look at Gaius's grave, making a silent prayer for his friend before he returned to the wagon and got back on the road. If he hurried, he could reach the next town just after dark.

'I just have to spend a few years learning to control my magic,' Merlin thought. 'After that, I can use what Gaius taught me to open my own apothecary far away from here, and never have to use magic again.'

Andre stood amongst his fellow study group members in the astronomy tower. It was well past curfew, so there was little risk of anyone stumbling upon them.

Lucian Bole looked around, "why aren't Granger and Malfoy here?"

"I didn't tell them," Andre replied. "This meeting is just for us."

"What's going on?" Beatrice asked.

"Talbott, Ismelda, and I have already discussed this beforehand," Andre explained. "After what happened with Potter and Weasley, we don't know if we should trust Draco and Hermione."

"But we need them," Elspeth said in confusion. "We need at least nine casters for the ritual to work."

"No," Talbott shook his head. "There's another way. We can do this with six."

"How?" Lucian asked.

"I've been shown a ritual we can perform to increase our magic and the size of our magical pathways," Andre explained. "We'll have to do it a few times, but it will give us enough magic to jump start the first part of the ritual."

"Those kinds of rituals are dangerous," Lucian pointed out. "They always come at a cost."

"Our benefactor has assured us the consequences will only be temporary," Talbott replied.

Beatrice nodded. "What do we do about Granger and Malfoy? Are we kicking them out?"

"No," Ismelda shook her head. "Stick to the plan. When we're sure of their loyalty we'll decide what to do."

Beatrice nodded her head in agreement. After getting to know Hermione over the last few weeks she couldn't help but feel a soft spot for the first year. She deserved to be a part of what they were doing.

"I know that none of us expected to be the ones to usher in the new golden age," Andre said as he looked around the room. "It was supposed to be another twenty years, at least before we were ready."

"You can call it coincidence, or luck, or a simple quirk of magic, and maybe it is, but I believe it's providence. We were all meant to be here, we were all meant to do this."

The others nodded reverently, their lingering doubts vanishing. They knew what they needed to do, and they would be ready.

"We'll perform the first empowerment ritual on Halloween," Talbott explained. "I won't lie to you. It's not going to be pleasant, but you'll notice the change almost immediately. Your magic will flow more freely, and you spells will be much stronger than before."

They nodded to each other as they left the astronomy tower and returned to their common rooms.

Chapter Text

Harry ran through the hallway of the second floor. He could feel the magic he had been searching for over the last few weeks. It was much stronger today, easier for him to detect.

"It's all hallow's eve," Merlin explained. "Certain magics are stronger at this time of the year. It's no surprise you can feel it so clearly."

Harry didn't respond. He turned the corner, pushing past the other students as he continued to track the magic. He was getting close, he could feel it.

He threw open the door of one of the unused classrooms, rushing inside, only to stop and look around in confusion. "It's gone again," he sighed, disappointed.

"You'll get another chance," Merlin said confidently.

"How do you know that?" Harry asked.

"You should be able to feel it, too," Merlin explained. "The ambient magic is getting stronger, and it will continue getting stronger until some time after midnight. When the magic appears again, you'll be able to find it."

"I hope so," Harry replied, checking his watch. He was already fifteen minutes late for charms class.

He turned on his heel, jogging to class, and hoping the Professor wouldn't be too upset with him.

"Mr. Potter, good of you to join us," Professor Flitwick, hint of annoyance in his tone upon seeing him.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry replied as he went to sit beside Ron. "I lost track of time."

"See that it doesn't happen again," Flitwick warned. "The next time you're late, I will have to deduct house points."

"Yes Professor," Harry agreed as he got out his books.

"Alright class, today you'll be practicing the mending charm, reparo. Open your books to page twenty-seven and start reading. After you finish, you'll get a chance to try out the charm for yourselves," the Professor explained.

"Psst, Harry, where were you?" Ron whispered. Harry had run out of the great hall halfway through breakfast like he was being chased.

"I'll tell you after class," Harry whispered back as he opened his textbook. He had already read the chapter, but this would be the first time he attempted the spell.

Ron nodded, going back to his own reading, happy with his progress. He had recently made it to fourth place in the ranking, putting him neck and neck with Hermione for third, and just behind Malfoy for second place.

Harry looked up sharply from his book. The magic was back again, just above him. He fought down the urge to rush out of the classroom in search of it again. He doubted the Professor would be happy with him if he did.

He could feel the magic, just on the edge of his senses, and making it impossible to concentrate on Flitwick's lesson.

"Well, Mr. Potter, do you have the answer?" Flitwick asked again, noticing how unfocused and distracted Harry was.

"…What?" Harry looked back at the Professor in confusion.

"I asked you if you had the answer," Flitwick repeated with a frown on his face.

"I'm sorry Professor, I don't know." He said, not having heard the question in the first place.

Hermione's hand immediately shot up, ready to answer.

"Yes Miss Granger, go ahead," Flitwick said, noticed her hand up.

"The reparo charm was invented by Orabella Nuttley in 1754," Hermione answered.

"Very good, Miss Granger," Flitwick praised. "Take five points for Gryffindor."

Hermione beamed, happy to find a question that Potter didn't already know the answer to.

"What can the charm be used to repair?" Flitwick asked. "Go ahead Mr. Malfoy."

"Inanimate objects," Draco answered.

"And what can it not be used to repair?" Flitwick pressed.

"Living beings, objects damaged by dark curses, and complex magical objects," Draco rattled off what he remembered from the book.

"Good job, Mr. Malfoy, five points to Slytherin as well," Flitwick replied.

"What about modifiers to the spell?"

This time Ron raised his hand.

"Mr. Weasley," Flitwick called, surprised that Harry hadn't even bothered to raise his hand yet.

"Papyrus Reparo. It's used to mend torn pieces of paper," Ron answered.

"Correct. Take five points for Gryffindor Mr. Weasley," Flitwick said happily.

Harry was oblivious to all of it as he continued to track the magic. It was closer now, much closer, just outside the door of the charms classroom. If he didn't know any better, he would say the magic was taunting him.

"Are you sure you're ok mate?" Ron asked. Harry always seemed so focused on what he was doing. It was strange seeing him so distracted.

"What? No, I'm fine," Harry replied. "I'm just having a little trouble concentrating today."

"Alright class, in front of each of you is a broken teacup. I want you to practice the reparo spell on those," Professor Flitwick instructed.

He watched as his students practiced the spell to varying degrees of success as he walked around the room, noting that Harry, unlike everyone else, had yet to even attempt the spell.

Draco pulled out his wand, concentrating on the teacup in front of him, "reparo." He said, watching as the teacup slowly knit itself back together after his fourth attempt.

When he finished the spell, he caught sight of Potter staring around the room again. It looked like he was searching for something, and whatever it was, it was far more important to him than his lessons.

Ron was the next one to get the spell correctly, looking down at his repaired cup proudly.

"Excellent work Mr. Malfoy, and Mr. Weasley, take five points each," Professor Flitwick smiled.

Hermione looked up in surprise from her cup to find that not only had Draco beat her, but so had Ron. She wasn't sure why, but over the last week or so, she had to concentrate twice as much as she used to on getting her spells right.

Taking a deep breath, she focused her mind on the cup in front of her, picturing it back together, "reparo."

She felt a strain on her magic as she watched the cup intently. The broken pieces slowly fit themselves back together as the cracks slowly faded away.

"Good work, Miss Granger, take two points for Gryffindor," Flitwick said as he examined her cup.

By the end of class, half the students could cast the spell correctly, but surprisingly Harry wasn't one of them.

Harry rushed out of the door, chasing after the magic, but as soon as he did, the magic was gone again. He looked around in frustration, unable to pick up even a trace of it.

Ron looked at his friend with concern. They had just finished transfiguration class, and Harry seemed to be even more distracted than he had been in charms class.

Professor McGonagall had been far less forgiving than Flitwick, docking points the second time she caught him not paying attention.

"What's going on, Harry?" Ron asked after they left transfiguration.

Harry sighed as he looked around again. The magic has dissipated again, just when he finished the class as well.

"Harry?" Ron asked again.

"Oh, sorry Ron," Harry replied. "What were you saying?"

"I asked you what's going on," Ron repeated, annoyed that he had to spend most of the day repeating himself.

"Nothing," Harry denied.

Ron sighed, he had enough. He wanted to know what was going on, and he was tired of being brushed aside.

He pulled Harry into an unused classroom and shut the door behind him. "It isn't nothing Harry. You've been acting strange all day. I know you could have easily transfigured your mouse, but you didn't even try, so what's going on?" He pressed.

Harry sighed as he looked at his friend, realizing he couldn't put off telling him what was going on any longer. "I've been picking up on something strange inside the castle," he confessed.

"What?" Ron asked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"This is going to sound strange, but there's some type of magical object inside the castle. I can feel it moving around every few days, then it just disappears. Today I felt it much more clearly than I before," Harry explained.

"Why are you the only one that can feel it?" Ron asked. "How do you even know if it's real?"

"It's real," Harry assured him. "I've been training since we came to Hogwarts on magic detection."

"…Ok," Ron said skeptically. "Let's say I believe you. Why do you even want to find this thing?" He asked.

"Whatever this thing is, it's not normal," Harry explained. "It can move on its own, and it's leaking magic, a lot of it. It might be something dangerous."

"Do you think it has something to do with Egwu and his friends?" Ron asked.

"I'm not sure," Harry replied.

"Ok," Ron nodded. "What do you want to do about it?"

"I want to find out whatever it is," Harry replied. "And I think today is the best chance I have to do it."

"Alright," Ron agreed. "I'm in."

"Thanks mate," Harry smiled as they walked to the great hall for lunch. Maybe it would be easier to find it with a little help.

Hermione watched as Ron and Potter arrived. They were late coming back from transfiguration. She smiled to herself. The extra work she and Draco were doing was paying off, and it seemed like Potter's slacking off was finally catching up with him.

Harry sat with Ron in the common room, playing a game of chess, when Harry felt the magic again.

It was late, and there weren't many students left in the common room, only a few of the older students sitting around the fireplace talking, and Hermione sitting on the couch across from them, reading a book.

"I can feel it again," Harry whispered. "It's much more clear than it was before."

"Alright," Ron whispered back, putting away the chess set. "Let's go."

Harry nodded, and they made their way to the door, trying not to draw any attention to themselves.

"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded, looking up from her book as she saw Ron and Potter standing beside the door.

"Keep your voice down," Ron whispered.

"What's going on?" Hermione whispered back. "It's past curfew. You aren't leaving the tower, are you?"

"We're looking for something," Harry whispered. "We won't be gone long."

"Just wait until tomorrow," Hermione replied. "One of the prefects, or the professors are going to catch you."

"We can't," Harry replied. "There's not enough time to explain."

"Please Hermione, don't say anything," Ron implored, glancing at the older students meaningfully.

Hermione looked between Potter, Ron, and the older students, trying to decide what to do. She had worked really hard to earn the house points she did today. If they got caught, all her hard work would be for nothing.

'It would be so easy to get the attention of the other students,' she thought. 'They could definitely stop them from leaving,' but she just couldn't bring herself to tell on them.

Hermione sighed, feeling like she might regret this later. "Alright, I'm coming with you then." If she went along, she could at least keep them from getting caught.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Harry replied. "I think-"

"I wasn't asking permission," Hermione interrupted. "Either I come with you, or we find out what the older students think about all this."

Harry sighed, not having much of a choice. "Alright, let's go." Tonight was his best chance of tracking down what he was looking for. He knew he couldn't let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

The trio walked out the door, closing the it behind them silently as they left the tower.

Harry looked around, detecting the magic he was looking for. "It's this way," he said, walking down the hallway.

"What's he looking for, Ron?" Hermione asked as they followed behind Potter.

"Harry said that he felt a weird magical object moving around the castle," Ron explained. "We're trying to find out what it is."

"He felt a magical object?" Hermione asked skeptically. "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know," Ron replied. "But I believe him."

"Potter what's going on?" Hermione demanded. "What do you mean you can feel magical objects?"

"Keep your voice down," Harry said, looking around to make sure there was no one within earshot.

"It's something I've been working on since we arrived at Hogwarts," Harry explained.

"Why?" Hermione asked, this time quieter, her natural curiosity winning out.

"It's supposed to help with dueling, knowing what spell someone's going to cast before it leaves their wand," Harry explained.

Hermione studied Potter carefully. She didn't think he was lying. He at least believed he could feel this magic.

"What are you going to do when you find it?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not sure," Harry said as he led them to the staircase. "I guess it depends on what it is." He said, pointing to the top of the staircase. "It's that way."

Hermione and Ron looked up the winding staircase leading to the top of the astronomy tower.

"There isn't supposed to be any astronomy classes tonight," Hermione said, furrowing her brow.

"Stay behind me," Harry said as he walked up the staircase, doing his best to say in the shadows.

Hermione and Ron moved behind Harry as they crept up the stairs behind him.

"I hear something," Ron whispered. "I think there's someone up there."

"I hear it too," Harry agreed. "It sounds like chanting, but I can't make out what they're saying."

As they crept closer, they could make out six figures wearing hooded robes. They were standing around something.

"Over there," Harry said as he pointed to an alcove further ahead. "We should be able to see what's going on from there."

They carefully crept to the alcove and peaked their heads out. They could see something chained up between the hooded figures.

Harry stared closer, his eyes going wide as he spotted a large, hairy leg. He recognized what it was immediately. An Acromantula, a large one. It was thrashing against the chains, but not making any sounds. "Must be a silencing charm," he murmured.

"What are they doing?" Ron whispered, in shock, as he stared at the largest spider he had ever seen.

"Harry, you need to leave now!" Merlin demanded as he heard what they were chanting.

'What is it?' Harry thought, 'what's going on?' He had never heard Merlin sound like this before. He sounded almost afraid.

"I'll explain later, but you need to leave now!" Merlin implored.

"We have to go," Harry whispered.

Just then the moonlight light up the face of one of the hooded figures. "That's Beatrice," Hermione exclaimed. "What's she-"

Harry quickly covered Hermione's mouth, pulling her back. "Be careful," he hissed. "They almost heard you."

Hermione struggled in Harry's grip. 'There must be a reason they're out here,' she thought. If Potter would just let me go, I could ask her.

Hermione's eyes went wide, and she stopped struggling. She looked on in horror as each of the hooded figures pulled out a silver dagger from their robes.

She could see the moonlight glinting off the blades as they raised them in the air, bringing them down on the helpless Acromantula, over and over again.

The spider screamed silently as it thrashed around for a few seconds before convulsing, then dropping limply to the floor. Blood poured from its wounds, spreading out across the stone floor.

"RUN!" Merlin shouted in Harry's mind.

A sickly green light emanated from the dead spider, enveloping Beatrice, and what was almost certainly the rest of the study group.

"We have to go now," Harry hissed as he let go of Hermione, leaving no room for argument.

Hermione and Ron didn't have to be told twice as they scurried after Harry, both terrified by what they saw.

Ron was in a rush to leave, his long held fear of spiders coming to the forefront of his mind as he struggled to fight down his panic. He didn't notice the display case against the wall as he ran, bumping into the side of it with his shoulder.

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed, then the study group turned as one towards them.

Andre looked across the hallway. He couldn't see who they were. It was too dark for that, but he knew he couldn't let them escape.

"Stop them!" Andre demanded as he aimed his wand at the intruders.

"Fumos," Harry said quietly, casting a thick shroud of smoke around them as they made a beeline for the stairs.

"Stay low!" Harry said, pulling Hermione and Ron down, just as Andre's spell sailed over their heads, followed by several more from the others.

"Keep running and don't look back," Harry warned. "We can't let them see our faces."

Hermione and Ron, hot on Harry's heels, didn't question him as they followed him down the stairs as quickly as they could.

Harry looked around frantically for a place for them to hide, but couldn't find one. They could already hear the footfalls of their pursuers on the stairs. If they didn't do something soon, Andre would catch them.

"Fumos! Fumos! Fumos!" Harry shouted, filling the hallway with as much smoke as he could as he ran towards the second floor staircase.

Ron looked over his shoulder at the thick cloud of smoke as he ran. The spell hid their identities, but also made it obvious which direction they were going in.

His moment of distraction cost him. A spell burst out of the smoke, hitting him in the leg, and sent him tumbling across the floor. He could hear them getting closer, and worse still, they were dispelling the smoke.

Harry looked down to see Ron, trying to stand up, but failing. He came to a stop, and pointed his wand at Ron's leg. "Finite," he said, countering the jelly legs jinx, and pulled Ron to his feet.

"Thanks mate," Ron said grateful, that he could move again.

"Keep running, and watch out for more spells," Harry warned as they continued down the hallway. With Andre so close behind them there wasn't much else they could do.

Harry cursed the fact that he brought Ron and Hermione along with him. His goblin portkey could have easily whisked him away, but it was only good for one person, and he couldn't leave Ron and Hermione behind to face Andre alone.

Harry spotted the stairs, and dashed down to the first floor. He cast another set of fumos spells to hide them again, but it was getting less and less effective.

The study group was prepared for the spell now, and were blowing away the smoke almost as fast as Harry could produce it.

"They're going to catch us," Hermione said breathing hard, She knew she couldn't run much further.

"We need to slow them down somehow," Harry agreed.

"I have an idea," Hermione said as she pulled out her wand. "Glisseo."

Harry and Ron watched as the bottom half of the staircase flattened into a slide.

"Good idea Hermione," Ron praised as they set off again.

'It was supposed to effect the whole staircase,' Hermione thought in confusion as she followed after the boys.

A few moments later they heard a loud crash, and the shouts of their pursuers.

"We need to find a place to hide," Harry said, looking around desperately. "The staircase bought us a little time, but they're going to catch us at this rate, and there's too many of them to even consider fighting them off."

"The forest," Ron said. "It's our only chance!"

They quickly made a beeline for the door, dodging spells as the study group started to close the gap again.

Harry shoved open the door as they ran outside, thankful for the cover of night. They no longer needing the fumos spells to keep their identities hidden.

Hermione stared at the imposing trees, remembering what they were told during the welcome feast. A shiver ran down her spine as the moonlight played off the tree branches, making the forest seem even more ominous than usual.

She looked back, still able to make out the figures of the study group as they chased after them. She gulped visibly as she followed Potter and Ron into the forest.

"We have to keep going," Harry said, veering hard to the left, and off the path. "Over there," he pointed to a large bush.

Ron and Hermione quickly followed after Harry, ducking into the bush and staying low.

Hermione did her best to calm her breathing, making as little noise as she could, hoping the study group hadn't seen them dive into the bush. Her heart pounded in her chest as she hear the footfalls of the study group getting closer and closer.

"Do you see them?" Lucian asked as he looked around. "I think they went that way."

"No," Ismelda replied. "Did you see who they were?"

"No," Lucian shook his head. "How did they even get past the aversion charm?"

"Maybe they followed one of us," Ismelda replied.

"Maybe," Lucian replied, reluctantly. "Let's check over there," he pointed further into the forest.

After a few moments, Hermione let out the breath she had been holding, moving to stand up before Harry grabbed her shoulder, shaking his head. "They're still out there. We can't risk them finding us," he whispered.

Hermione nodded as she sat back down, looking around to see if she could spot them. It wasn't easy in the dark, but she could see the faint light emanating from their wands as they moved around them.

"What were they doing?" Hermione asked.

"It looked like some kind of ritual," Harry replied. "The Acromantula was probably the sacrifice."

"It was an empowerment spell," Merlin supplied. "They took the magic of the acromantula and added it to their own."

'You said that was one of the rituals you locked away in the vault,' Harry thought.

"Yes," Merlin agreed. "So either they rediscovered it, or they found a copy of the spell that I missed."

'How much stronger are they?' Harry thought.

"At least two, maybe even threefold," Merlin replied.

'The ritual felt wrong,' Harry thought, unable to think of a better way to describe what he sensed.

"Yes," Merlin agreed. "It's also extremely dangerous to them as well."

'What do you mean?' Harry thought.

"They're bodies were nowhere near ready to absorb that amount of magic," Merlin explained. "They'll only have a few months, possibly a year, before the excess magic damages their magical pathways permanently."

'Why do all this if it's only going to strengthen them for a few months?' Harry thought in confusion.

"I don't know," Merlin admitted. "The ritual will hamstring their magic, possibly for the rest of their lives."

"Harry?" Ron asked, watching as the study group spread further out, now searching the bushes and trees for them. "What do we do?"

Harry counted the figures, spotting only four of them. "Two of them aren't here. They're probably waiting for us to show up at the castle."

"We should go back," Hermione suggested. "Maybe there's a way we can sneak past them."

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "They've probably already set traps for us. If we go anywhere near the castle now, they'll find us for sure."

Hermione nodded reluctantly, conceding that Potter was probably right. She just wanted to get out of the cold, curl up in her bed, and pretend she never followed Potter and Ron out of the common room.

"Did you find it?" Ron asked. "The thing you were looking for?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "I could tell it was there with them, when they did the ritual, but not what it was."

"I can't believe no one heard us," Ron observed. "I thought for sure Filch or his cat would have come running after all the noise we made, or at least some of the prefects."

"…You're right," Harry realized, his eyes widening. "And why would Andre take the risk of doing something like this inside the castle? Unless they knew no one would find them."

"They're coming this way again," Hermione said, fearfully pointing at two of the two cloaked figures.

It didn't escape her notice that they were using spells meant to harm, but not kill them, making it clear they wanted to interrogate them first.

"We have to go further into the forest," Harry said. "It's the only way to avoid them."

"Further in?" Hermione asked, trying to decide what was worse. The creatures in the forests or the people hunting them.

"They're spread pretty far apart," Ron observed. "We could probably get the jump on them if we're careful."

"No," Harry shook his head. "They're all in sight of each other. As soon as we use a spell the light will give us away, and the rest of them will be on us in a second."

The trio carefully moved out of the cover of the bush, as they moved further into the forest, making sure to keep each member of the study group in their sight.

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

Harry, Hermione, and Ron peaked out of the bushes, watching as the study group searched for them with growing worry. They weren't searching randomly anymore. They were systematic, going section by section.

Harry glanced behind them, looking deeper into the forest. "We have to go," he whispered. "They're going to find us if we stay here much longer."

"You mean further into the forest?" Hermione asked in fright. She heard the stories from the older students about what lived in the forest. Werewolves. giant spiders, and trolls.

"Yes," Harry nodded. "We can't let them find us."

"What do they want? What are they doing this?" Hermione demanded.

"I don't know Hermione," Harry said truthfully. "Whatever it is… it's not good."

"We have to do something soon," Ron said, glancing back at Harry and Hermione. "They're coming this way."

"Follow me," Harry said as he darted out of the bush, staying low to the ground. He ran past a fallen log and hid behind a large oak tree.

He peaked his head out to see Ron and Hermione following after him, as they ducked down behind the tree with him.

They were lucky. The study group moved to the bush they had been hiding in a moment later, searching it.

"Now what?" Ron whispered as he watched the study group wearily. "It's only a matter of time before they search here as well."

Harry pulled out his wand, transfiguring their clothes into a dark hooded robes. "That should at least make it harder for them to see us," he said as he pulled up his hood.

Hermione shivered, wrapping her cloak tightly around herself. She nodded to Potter, grateful to have another layer of protection against the biting wind.

"After what we saw, they're not going to give up easily," Harry pointed out. "We could be stuck out here all night."

"All night?" Hermione asked, looking around, now fully regretting her decision to follow after Potter and Ron. She should have just stayed in the common room and ignored them.

"We have to put some distance between us and them," Harry said. "If we're lucky, we can circle around them and head back to the castle."

"Neville and Sally are going to meet us by the lake to do our morning exercises. We can meet up with them there and pretend we came out with them."

Ron and Hermione nodded their heads in agreement, not having any better ideas.

Harry peaked his head out from behind the tree to make sure the study group wasn't looking in their direction. "Let's go," he said, leading them further into the forest.

Hermione followed after the boys, looking at each shadow wearily, wondering what to do. It was only a matter of time before they came across one of the creatures living in the forest. Then they would really be in trouble.

"Stop," Harry hissed, pulling Hermione and Ron into the shadow of a fallen tree, just in time to see a pair of acromantula the size of quaffles scurry past.

Hermione covered her mouth to stop from screaming while Ron pressed himself against the fallen log, trying to make himself as small as possible. These spiders were a lot bigger than the ones at the burrow.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief after they were gone, thankful that Merlin had taught him how to detect magic. "Let's go."

Hermione and Ron followed Harry, considerably more careful as they ventured deeper into the forest.

Hermione looked over her shoulder. She could still see the feint glow of the study group's wands as they continued to search for them.

The trio stayed close together as they ventured further into the forest, keeping their eyes peeled. Every now and then, they could hear the rustle of leaves and screeches of the various creatures around them.

They had a few more close calls with acromantula. It seemed the further they went into the forest, the larger and more numerous they became.

"Down," Harry whispered as they ducked into a bush, just in time to see an acromantula the size of a large dog scuttle past them.

"Can we circle back to the school yet?" Hermione whispered.

"Not yet," Harry replied. He could still see the faint glow of their wands. Moving through the forest at night with only the moonlight to show them where they were going slowed them down considerably. It would be a while yet before they could safely go around them.

A few minutes after they stepped out of the bushes, Harry's eyes widened. An acromantula was moving towards them. It was fast, and it was big. His eyes darted around the clearing, looking for some place to hide, but there was nothing close enough.

"Run," Harry said as he took off into the forest, Hermione and Ron hot on his heels as they gave up all pretense of staying quiet.

"What is it?" Ron demanded. "What's going on!?"

"A spider, a big one," Harry replied.

"We can hide," Hermione said from behind him. "There's another bush over there," she said, pointing into the distance.

"We won't make it," Harry replied. "It'll see us long before we get there."

Just as Hermione was about to ask how he knew, the Acromantula burst from the trees with a screech. It towered over them, nearly six feet tall.

Ron let out a scream as he saw it, immediately drawing its attention to them. It turned its head towards them, clicking its pincers together as it focused all eight of its shiny black eyes on them.

Hermione's eyes widened as she stared up at the giant spider. She could see the venom dripping from its fangs as it stared down at them.

"RUN!" Harry shouted, pulling out his wand. Hiding from Andre wouldn't matter if the acromantula got to them. "FUMOS! FUMOS! FUMOS!" he shouted, creating a thick shroud of smoke around, hoping it would at least slow down the spider.

They took off running as fast as they could, trying to put as much distance as they could between them and it, but it was a futile effort.

The spider ran through the smoke, its long legs dug into the ground as it chased after the first years, quickly catching up to them again.

Harry raised his wand, ready to cast an incendio, when they heard another screech from their right. They watched in shock as another acromantula crashed into the first one, sending them both crashing to the ground. The new one wasn't as large, but still over five feet tall.

Harry watched for a moment as they fought. They were a tangle of limbs and claws, screeching as they bit and gouged each other.

"Keep going!" Harry shouted, knowing it was only a matter of time before the larger spider won, or they drew the attention of even more of them.

Ron didn't have to be told twice as the trio took off into the forest. If they survived the night, this would fuel his nightmares for years to come.

Hermione's lungs burned as she tried to keep up with the boys. She didn't know how much longer she could run.

Harry looked back at Hermione. Her face was red, and she was slowing down. He had to think of something, and soon. More spiders were emerging from the forest, drawn to them by all the noise they were making.

With little choice left, he drew his wand and came to a stop. "Diffindo!" He said, aiming for one of the smaller spiders. His aim was true, and he managed to slice it in two.

Some of the other spiders noticed this and descended on their fallen brethren, tearing and devouring it. But even more crawled over it, intent on catching them.

Following Harry's lead, Hermione did the same, "Diffindo." The spider she hit was a little smaller than Potter's, but it didn't go down immediately. It stumbled around, bleeding heavily, but it was enough to draw the attention of the other spiders.

Just like the one Harry killed, the remaining spiders pounced on it, tearing it limb from limb.

Ron was next, having similar results to Harry. The trio nodded to each grimly as they formed a circle, looking at the remaining spiders wearily.

The acromantula stopped, staring at their prey, as they clicked their mandibles and screeched. They knew something had changed. This wasn't the weak prey they had thought they were, but they were prey none the less.

The spiders circled around the students, much more cautious now as the tense standoff continued.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron breathed heavily as they stared back at the spiders. There were more and more appearing every second. They would have to do something soon.

Harry raised his wand, hoping to take a few of the larger ones down at once before he heard an almost deafening screech. The first spider they encountered appeared again from the trees. It was wounded, blood pouring from its face and limbs, but it didn't even seem to notice as it stalked forward.

The other spiders moved to the side as it stalked towards them. There was obviously a hierarchy amongst the spiders, as the smaller ones were the quickest to move out of the way, even in its injured state.

"Get ready," Harry whispered. "I'm gonna try to take down the big one with a charged Diffindo. Use Flipendo to clear out a path behind us."

"It's too big," Hermione whispered back. "You're only going to make it mad."

"If I hit it right I can at least wound it. With a little luck, the others will turn on it," Harry whispered. "Either way, we don't have much choice."

Harry kept his wand low to the ground as he charged his spell, cupping his hand over the tip to hide the light from his spell, and hoping the spiders wouldn't see what he was doing. "Diffindo."

He knew he had to make this spell count, or they were done for. He could feel his arm shake as he strained to keep control of the spell He knew he couldn't release it yet. It needed to be stronger, much stronger.

He looked into the shiny black eyes of the acromantula as it drew closer. It was less than ten feet away now.

He could just barely make out the sound of Andre and the study group fighting in the distance, likely having caught the attention of the acromantula as well.

"Harry," Ron said fearfully as the spider moved closer, easily towering over them.

"Not yet," Harry said as he visibly strained to hold the spell, a bead of sweat rolling off his forehead. 'Just a little closer,' he thought.

"Potter!" Hermione shouted as the spider was now less than six feet away from them.

The Acromantula could sense their fear. It stalked forward slowly, savoring the moment. It had earned its meal tonight.

Harry raised his wand, using his arm to brace his forearm as he pointed his wand at the acromantula. The normal silvery-white light of the spell, now a blazing white. It strained against his wand, struggling to get free.

The spider cocked his head to the side, noticing the light emanating from the human for the first time, wondering what it was.

Harry released the spell, watching as it rapidly expanded to the size of a bludger and hammer into the midsection of the spider.

The spider, unprepared for the attack, screeched as the spell pushed it back. It dug its legs into the ground, creating deep furrows in the dirt as it strained against the power of the spell.

The acromantula's carapace was naturally resistant to magic, more so as it aged and grew larger. But with the power Harry put behind his spell, it could only hold out for so long.

With a sharp crack, the carapace burst, and Harry's spell tore into the soft tissue of the acromantula and continued up into the night sky.

The acromantula stood there on its feet, swaying from side to side for a moment, trying to understand what happened before it crashed heavily to the ground. It let out a pained screech as the blood flowed from the giant holes in its body.

Harry nearly dropped his wand as he felt a sharp pain running up and down his arm. It felt like it was on fire.

Ron and Hermione quickly turned around, doing what they could to clear a path through the remaining acromantula. The spiders had gone eerily silent in the aftermath of Harry's spell.

"Flipendo! Flipendo! Flipendo!" Ron said, casting as fast as he could, blasting the spiders out of the way.

"Flipendo! Flipendo!" Hermione followed Ron's lead, but her spells had noticeably less power than his, only shoving them to the side.

"GO!" Harry shouted as soon as they had enough room to run.

Hermione and Ron didn't have to be told twice as they put as much distance as they could between themselves and the acromantula.

Ron glanced over his shoulder as he ran, watching as the acromantula piled on top of the one Harry took down. He shivered as they bit and tore into the flesh of the still breathing spider. 'Definitely going to have nightmares about this,' Ron thought.

While most of the spiders stayed behind, a few of the larger ones still trailed behind them, but didn't follow nearly as close as before.

Ron and Hermione continued to fire diffindo's as they ran, and as much as Harry wanted to help, he couldn't. After the last spell, something was seriously wrong with his wand arm.

They eventually cleared the trees, running into a clearing, but when they looked back, the spiders had stopped, standing just at the edge of the clearing.

The trio came to a stop, looking around in confusion, wondering why the spiders suddenly stopped, but there was nothing but trees around them.

When it became clear they weren't going to follow, Harry dropped to his knees, clutching his wand arm, groaning in pain.

"Harry!" Ron said in alarm as he dropped down beside him. "What is it?"

"My arm…" Harry said through clenched teeth. "I think I overdid it with the last spell. I'll be ok… I just need a few minutes."

Hermione dropped to the ground beside them, covered in sweat, her face red as she struggled to catch her breath. She was exhausted, sweaty and afraid.

Harry looked around the clearing carefully. 'What is it about this place that scares the spiders he thought?'

"Something they are even afraid of," Merlin replied.

'Where have you been?' Harry thought angrily. 'I could have used your help back there.'

"I was watching," Merlin said. "Anything I said would have just distracted you. You did as well as can be expected under the circumstances."

Harry swallowed his angry retort, knowing now wasn't the time for it.

'I can't sense anything,' Harry thought.

"The acromantula know something we don't," Merlin surmised. "But for the moment, it's probably the safest place for you."

"We should stay here until morning," Harry suggested, choosing not to dwell on Merlin's use of the word, probably.

Hermione and Ron nodded, relieved for the respite, and not wanting to go any further into the forest.

Harry rubbed his arm, trying to massage away the pain he was feeling.

"That isn't going to work," Merlin pointed out. "You damaged your main magical pathway with that last spell. It was the right move. You wouldn't have taken down the acromantula otherwise, but it will still take some time to heal."

'I don't like our chances if I can't use my wand,' Harry thought.

"You'll have to use one of the other magical pathways in your arm. Your spells won't be as strong as normal, but it will have to do," Merlin explained.

'Any ideas on how to deal with the pain?' Harry thought. He could barely think straight as it was.

"There is," Merlin replied. "It's something I haven't taught you how to do yet, but you can temporarily turn off your pain receptors."

Harry let out a sigh of relief as the fiery pain he felt in his arm suddenly cut off, leaving his arm feeling numb.

"I just did it for you, but this doesn't fix the problem. You'll have a lot of work to do to repair the damage."

Harry strained his ears, listening for Andre and the rest of the study group, but he couldn't hear them over the sounds of the forest. He could only hope they had as much trouble with the acromantula as they did.

"Why don't you guys try to get some rest?" Harry asked. "We can take shifts sleeping."

Hermione nodded quietly, lying down. She doubted she would get any sleep tonight, and most likely not for the next few nights, either. She had thought she was doing so well learning magic, but tonight had been an eye opener on how much she still had to learn.

She knew she was slowing down Harry and Ron. She couldn't keep up with them physically, and regardless of her ranking, even Ron's spells were stronger than hers tonight.

Ron wrapped his cloak tightly around himself and stared up into the night sky. He refused to look into the forest, where there were no doubt more spiders waiting for them. His brothers had made fun of him for being afraid of spiders when he was younger, but if they were here now, he doubted they would still be laughing.

How had everything gone so crazy? They were only supposed to look for some weird magical object, instead they witnessed some kind of dark ritual, were hunted by their classmates, and nearly killed multiple times by giant spiders.

Andre stood back to back with Lucian as they battled the acromantula's surrounding them. They had come out of nowhere, descending on them like locust.

It was obviously the fault of the spies. He could only hope at this point the acromantula dealt with them. Finding them now would be next to impossible.

Around them were the corpses of the fallen spiders. He shivered as some spiders broke off their attacks to eat their fallen brethren.

"We should go back to the castle," Lucian said with gritted teeth. One of the spiders got the jump on him at the beginning of the fight, and bit his leg, injecting him with its venom. He could already feel his leg swelling up as it became harder to move it.

"No," Andre shook his head. "There's too much at stake. We can't let the escape."

"We don't know who or even where they are," Lucian pointed out before he sent a Reducto at a spider trying to sneak up on Beatrice and Talbott, blowing it to pieces.

"It could be Potter, and maybe the Weasley twins," Ismelda pointed out. "They're the only ones that know about us."

Just as Andre was about to reply, a streak of silvery-white light lit up the night sky. It brought a momentary pause to the battle as both sides looked up in shock and surprise.

He noticed something immediately change in the demeanor of the spiders. If he didn't know any better, he would say they were scared. Not of them, but whoever it was that cast that spell.

Most of the smaller spiders scattered back into the forest, leaving only a few of the larger ones for them to take care of. It was a much easier task when they weren't surrounded, and they easily killed off the remaining spiders.

"Drink this," Ismelda said, handing a vial to Lucian. "It will counteract the spider venom."

Lucian took it gratefully, taking a sip and grimacing at the taste before downing the rest.

"I doubt it was a student," Andre said. "A spell that powerful would have taken a fully grown wizard, at least."

The others couldn't help but agree. It was certainly more than they were capable of, even after the ritual.

"It doesn't mean they weren't involved," Lucian pointed out. "The Weasley's have older brothers that already graduated. One is a curse breaker, the other is a dragon tamer. Either of them would be strong enough to pull off that spell."

"Alright," Andre said. "We'll take a rest, then we'll start looking for them again. At the very least, they'll be injured," he said, knowing the deeper they went into the forest, the more dangerous it was, especially at night.

The others breathed a sigh of relief at the respite and saw to their injuries. It was going to be a long night.

Hermione looked up at the sunrise. She had never been so grateful to see it in her life. Her Defense book said that acromantula were nocturnal, and would go back into their burrows at first light.

"Wake up," Hermione said, shaking Harry and Ron's shoulders.

Both boys woke up with a start, looking around frantically, neither one able to fall into a deep sleep after what they had been through.

"It's alright," Hermione replied. "The sun's coming up. We can go back to the castle now."

"Bloody hell, Hermione," Ron replied. "You nearly scared the life out of me."

"Sorry," Hermione said apologetically.

"It's ok," Harry said. "We have to get going, anyway. We can't let Andre find us out here."

He could feel his arm was still numb, meaning it was probably still in bad shape. He didn't know how much good he would be in a fight if they ran into them again.

"Point me," Harry said, holding his wand in the palm of his hand. "Hogwarts."

He noticed immediately the spell was weaker than it should have been. The power he could put into it was less than half of what he was normally capable of.

"Alright, we'll circle left," Harry said. "If we're lucky, we'll be able to sneak right past them, but keep your eyes open."

Hermione and Ron nodded, following Harry's lead.

As they trudged through the forest, carefully looking for any other surprises, Ron couldn't help but ask. "How did you do that, Harry? That last spell was incredible."

Hermione didn't say anything, but she listened in, quite curious herself about how Harry pulled off the spell.

"I'm not sure. I charged up a Diffindo like normal. It could have been some accidental magic mixed in," Harry replied. "Whatever it was, it did some damage. My spells are weaker, and my arm still hurts."

"You did more than charge up the spell," Merlin said. "You subconsciously drew on the magic around you to power up the spell even more."

Hermione and Ron nodded. Neither one of them wanted to push Harry, but they both knew the result was far greater than a charged spell should have been capable of, accidental magic or not.

"We can have Madam Pomfrey look at it," Hermione suggested. "I'm sure she'll be able to help."

"No," Harry shook his head. "We don't know if she's working with Andre."

Hermione's eyes widened, her train of thought coming to an abrupt stop. "You're right… There has to be someone else working with them… an adult. How else could we have fought our way through the castle with no one noticing?"

"I doubt it's her. She took a healer's oath not to do harm, but all she has to do is mention it in passing, and they would figure it out," Ron pointed out.

He carefully scanning the tree line, hoping Hermione was right about the spiders being nocturnal.

"If it's not her, then who?" Harry asked, curious about their thoughts on the matter.

"What about Snape?" Ron suggested. "I heard he fought for the other side during the war, at least until he turned spy."

"Professor Dumbledore vouched for him though," Hermione pointed out.

Harry didn't say anything, deciding that telling them about his run-ins with the man would likely put them in even more danger.

"So? He's a spy. It's his job to get people to trust him," Ron pointed out.

"It's something worth looking into," Harry agreed. The way Andre behaved, it only made sense that there was someone else helping him.

The trio finally arrived at the tree line, looking carefully for anyone else from the study group waiting for them.

"Over there," Harry said, pointing to someone standing close to where they entered the forest last night.

"It's Elspeth," Hermione realized, the third year Ravenclaw.

"I guess that means the others are still looking for us," Ron guessed.

Harry led them along the edge of the forest, staying out of her view as they made their way to the lake.

"Here," Harry said, transfiguring their cloaks into running clothes. "You can use a finite later to undo it."

"Thanks mate, thanks Harry," they replied.

Harry nodded. "I see Neville and Sally out there already. We can pretend we came from the castle," he said as they walked up.

"Harry, Ron, I didn't think you were going to come," Neville said when he saw them. "You were still sleeping when I got up."

"Sorry about that," Harry smiled apologetically. "We stayed up a little late playing chess."

"Oh, ok," Neville replied. He hadn't really known Harry to get up late before, but he guessed there was a first time for everything.

"Are you going to be joining us, Hermione?" Sally asked.

"Harry and I are trying to settle our disagreements," Hermione said, thinking quickly. "He invited me to join you for exercises so that I can see for myself how much it helps with spell casting."

"That's great!" Sally smiled, glad to have another girl out here with them. "It's tough in the beginning, but it gets easier after the first few weeks."

Hermione's face fell as she realized the sort of commitment she had just made, and after getting only a couple of hours of sleep, outside in the freezing cold.

Hermione trudged into her dorm room feeling completely exhausted. All she wanted to do was go to sleep, but she knew she couldn't, not without risking the study group noticing. She took a shower, and changed into a fresh set of clothes, then went downstairs to join Harry and Ron in the common room.

She looked into the tired faces of Ron and Harry, feeling a little bad for them. Since it was her first day of exercise, she claimed fatigue after the first lap around the lake, and sat out a good amount of the exercises, but that wasn't the case for them.

They had to do all of it, just as well as they normally did, especially when Elspeth wandered by. She even stood there, watching them exercise a few times.

They made their way down to the great hall with the other students, and sat down for breakfast, trying their best to not show how tired they all were.

Draco looked at the Gryffindor table in confusion as he watched Granger sit down beside Potter and Weasley. What was going on? She had never done that before. Why was she suddenly so friendly with Potter?

His suspicions only grew as they went to Potion's class. Granger sat in the back, talking quietly with Potter and Weasley when Snape wasn't looking. She didn't even try to earn any house points.

Something had changed last night, and he needed to know what. Tearing off a piece of parchment, he wrote out a quick note telling Granger to meet him after class.

He pretended to go to the storeroom to get more ingredients and dropped it on her desk.

Hermione read the note and quickly put it away, nodding in agreement to Draco.

At the end of class, Harry, Hermione, and Ron went to the unused classroom across the hall and sat down to wait for Draco

Harry and Ron had been reluctant to speak to Draco, not sure if they should trust him, but Hermione had been adamant about telling him the truth.

They didn't have to wait long as Draco swept into the room, closing the door behind him. "Granger, what are they doing here?" Draco demanded.

"I asked them to come," Hermione said. "There's something important we have to tell you."

"Don't tell me you believe them now, Granger," Draco said, shaking his head. He didn't think she was that gullible. "And why do you look so tired?"

"We were up all night. Harry was looking for some-," Hermione began.

"So now it's Harry?" Draco interrupted with a raised eyebrow.

"Will you just stop and hear her out, Malfoy?" Ron demanded. "This is important."

"No! I don't have to listen to any of this," Draco said, turning on his heel to leave. He should have known better than to trust Granger.

"Sit down," Harry said, an edge in his voice. He was tired, and after last night, had no patience left for this.

Draco paused at Potter's tone, realizing that if he wanted to leave, it would likely end in a fight with Potter. "Fine… but make it quick," he said in a huff.

"Go ahead Hermione," Harry said.

"We were out after curfew," Hermione continued, "and we saw the study group. They did some kind of ritual where they killed an acromantula, and when they saw us, they tried to kill us too. They chased us out of the castle, and we had to spend the night hiding from them in the forest."

"We don't know what they're up to, but whatever they're planning, it's not good," Harry added.

Draco looked between Potter, Granger, and Weasley, trying to figure out if this was some elaborate trick they were all in on. But as he looked into each of their faces, an uneasy feeling developed in the pit of his stomach.

All three of them were exhausted. There was no faking that, and he doubted Granger would lie about something like this, or have a reason to.

"We need to quit the study group too," Hermione said firmly.

"You can't," Harry said, shaking his head.

"What? Why not?" Hermione demanded.

"They're looking for us," Ron explained. "If either of you suddenly quit for no reason, it's as good as telling them it was us."

Hermione visibly deflated at that realization. After what happened last night, the last thing she wanted was to see them again.

"What about Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked. "He could help us."

Harry was about to answer, but Draco that spoke first. "And how do you know he isn't in it with them?"

"He wouldn't…." Hermione tried to deny. "He defeated Grindelwald."

"He's also exactly the type of person they would recruit," Harry pointed out.

"Well, what are we supposed to do, then?" Hermione asked.

"For now, you have to stay in the study group, both of you," Harry replied. "At least until we can figure out a way to get you out without them suspecting anything."

"We also have to act normally," Ron said. "If we're all suddenly talking to each other in public, they might start asking questions."

Draco looked at the three Gryffindors, wondering what he had got himself mixed up in, and who he could trust.

Andre sat at a table in the library with the rest of the members of the study group. All of them were tired, and still recovering from the previous night.

"I don't get it," Lucian said, shaking his head. "How did they even know where to find us?"

"I don't know," Andre admitted, rubbing his face tiredly. "The aversion spells should have directed them away."

"Aversion spells only work on people that don't know what they're looking for," Ismelda said. "Whoever those three were, they were looking for us."

"Did Madam Pomfrey have any visitors?" Andre asked. After spending a night in the forest he refused to believe they walked away it with no injuries.

"No," Talbott answered. "Its possible they're avoiding her so they don't draw any attention to themselves."

"What about you, Elspeth?" Ismelda asked. "You were on lookout. Did you see anyone leave the forest?"

"No," Elspeth replied. "The only ones outside were Potter and his friends, although Hermione was with them today."

"Potter is out there every day," Andre dismissed. "But have a talk with Hermione, Elspeth. Find out what she was doing out there, just to be on the safe side."

"We also have to consider the fact they weren't students at all," Lucian pointed out. "That spell at the end, not many seventh years are capable of that."

"We'll need to be more careful from now on," Andre decided. "No unnecessary risks. We can't afford to draw any attention to ourselves, not when we're so close."

Chapter Text

Rita sat at her table, nursing a glass of fire whiskey. She was in the White Wyvern, a dimly lit bar on the seedier side of Knockturn Alley. She wore a hood to hide her identity. Ever since her coverage of Merlin's Vault, and her subsequent expose of James Potter, she had become somewhat of a celebrity in her own right.

She couldn't even walk down the street without someone coming up to her, asking her when her next article was coming out. Some even making suggestions on who she should investigate next.

In her younger years, it had been something she dreamed about. The masses hanging on her every word, having wealth and influence. But what she hadn't counted on was the weight of responsibility it had placed on her shoulders, not just to tell the truth, but to seek it out.

She looked up as a dark-haired man she recognized sat down at her table. "Rita, I presume?" he asked.

"Keep it down," Rita hissed, keeping her voice low as she looked around the bar to make sure no one recognized her.

"You're far too paranoid," the man replied with a laugh. "Besides, I placed a muffling charm on the table before you arrived. No one can hear us."

"Did you find what I was looking for?" Rita said.

"That depends. Do you have my gold?" the man asked, getting down to business.

Rita pulled out a leather pouch from within her robes, placing it on the table with a soft thud. "That's half," she said, pushing it towards him. "You'll get the rest when you answer my questions."

"Very well," the man replied, picking up the pouch and feeling the weight of it before tucking it away. "I have to say, when you contacted me, I was intrigued. Perhaps you can tell me why you're so interested in Lord Potter?"

"If you want to find out, you'll have to buy a newspaper, just like everyone else, Victor," Rita said with a hint of amusement.

Victor let out a snort, leaning back in his chair. "Yes," he said with a wry grin. "I suppose I should have seen that one coming. You're in luck. I went to school with James Potter. I was in the year above him."

"Who were his friends?" Rita asked.

"It's a short list," Victor replied, his voice carrying a hint of annoyance. "Between you and me, the man was a bit of a prick. He was always causing trouble, running around pulling pranks, and making a nuisance of himself."

"His friends, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, were usually along for the ride."

Rita furrowed her brow as she thought about the names. She attended Hogwarts just after Potter graduated, so she didn't know about Lupin and Pettigrew, but she had certainly heard of Sirius Black.

He was a Lord, just like Potter, and a member of the Wizengamot, but never attended any of the sessions. When it came time for a vote, it was usually entered by a proxy, which in most cases turned out to be Dumbledore, or one of his allies.

"Tell me about Sirius Black," Rita said.

"He's a recluse now, never leaves his home, and hasn't been seen publicly in at least a decade," Victor replied. "Before that, he had a bit of a scandalous reputation."

"What else?" Rita asked, well aware of Black's past.

"When he went to Hogwarts, he was as thick as thieves with Potter. When one of them was up to something, it was usually a good bet the other was involved as well," Victor answered.

"You mentioned pranks. How bad were they?" Rita asked, leaning in curiously.

"They were mostly just annoying," Victor said. "Stink bombs, sticking things to the ceilings, adding potions to people's food, juvenile stuff, easily dealt with."

"Mostly?" Rita asked.

"There was one unlucky kid," Victor said. "He was friends with a girl Potter took a liking to. That's when their pranks took a darker turn. They did everything they could to humiliate and embarrass the poor kid. His house mates stepped in when they could, but there was only so much they could do without risking the same thing happening to them."

"Who was he?" Rita asked.

"Severus Snape."

The answer caught Rita by surprise, but as she thought about it, it started to make sense. All the bullying he received from Potter and his friends. It went a long way to explaining why Snape was the way he was.

"And the girl Potter liked, who was she?" Rita asked.

"Lily Evans, now Lily Potter," Victor answered.

Rita nodded, feeling a hint of sympathy for the potion's professor. His friend not only sided with his bully, but also married him. It must have felt like a punch to the gut.

"What else can you tell me about Black? Why has nobody seen him for the last decade?" Rita asked, getting back on track.

"I've asked around, and this is mostly rumor," Victor warned. "But from what I've been told, he's under house arrest. He's not allowed to have any visitors, or leave his home… ever."

"What did he do?" Rita asked, shocked at such a harsh sentence for someone of Black's standing.

"I have no idea," Victor replied. "Whatever it was, it was near the end of the war, and bad enough that his position on the Wizengamot didn't save him."

'Around the time Gloria Potter defeated the Dark Lord,' Rita thought. 'Interesting.' She made a mental note to talk to Fudge again. He wasn't minister at the time, but he should be able to find out what happened.

"And his other friends?" Rita asked.

"Remus Lupin, bitten by the werewolf Fenrir Greyback when he was just a child. He was able to hide his condition and successfully graduate from Hogwarts, but is currently residing in the muggle world," Victor replied.

"And he doesn't have any contact with Potter anymore, either?" Rita asked.

"No," Victor shook his head. "At about the same time Black became a recluse, Lupin left the Wizarding world, and hasn't been back since."

"What's the connection?" Rita asked.

"None of my contacts will talk about that," Victor replied.

"What about the other one, Pettigrew?" Rita asked. "What happened to him?"

"No idea," Victor replied. "He just disappeared without a trace."

"Let me guess," Rita said. "At the same time Lupin left the Wizarding world, and Black became a recluse?"

"Yes," Victor replied.

Rita let out a deep sigh. She had hoped to find some answers today, but she had ended up with even more questions than before. "What about Potter? Is there anything else you can tell me about him?" Rita asked.

"There isn't really much there," Victor admitted. "Most everything has already been aired publicly. His finances are managed through a trust, and he receives a monthly stipend. It's a little unusual, but not unheard of."

"Unusual how?" Rita asked.

"Normally, an heir is taught from a very young age how to manage the family investments, and when they become the new head, they manage it directly. A trust is normally used if they become the head before reaching the age of majority."

"Interesting, who manages his investments?" Rita asked.

"That one was a little hard to track down," Victor replied. "There's various shell companies involved, but it eventually leads back to an investment company, Evergreen."

"Well, that's a start at least," Rita said, handing Victor the second pouch.

"A word of advice Rita, this may be something you want to avoid," Victor said, putting the pouch in his pocket.

"Why is that?" Rita asked curiously. She had worked with Victor multiple times before, and this was the first time she received any type of warning from the man. "You're not going soft on me, are you?"

"Look, Rita," Victor said with a sigh. "You're good for business, and you pay well. That's why I'm telling you this. This stuff about Potter, it might not be worth kicking over the hornet's nest over for."

"A lot of my contacts came under scrutiny just for asking about this, far more than what you would expect for something like this. That tell's me there's a lot of powerful people that want to keep this buried. You might not like what you find," he said, getting up and leaving.

Rita stared after Victor. 'What is Potter involved in?' She thought. She made a mental note to speak with Fudge about it as well. If Victor of all people had trouble finding this Evergreen, it meant that someone had gone to great lengths to keep it hidden. It could be just what she needed to take down Potter once and for all.

Hermione sat in the great hall, tapping her fingers nervously on the table, the food on her plate, an afterthought. Her mind was still reeling from the nightmare she had the night before. In it, she was hunted by the study group, but Harry and Ron weren't there with her. She was all alone, and she wasn't able to escape.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm down. She knew she had to go to the meeting tomorrow night. The thought made her heart race, but she knew there was no way out of it.

It had been next to impossible to concentrate in class. She even had trouble casting spells she had no problem with the previous week.

She didn't know how Draco could be so calm about this. He was just sitting at his table, eating his lunch without a care in the world.

Hermione looked down at her plate, pushing the food around, but not eating. She was too nervous.

"Hello Hermione," Elspeth said, walking up.

Hermione's fork clattered to her plate as she let out a gasp, and looked up with a start. 'What was Elspeth doing here? Did she find out it was them in the forest?' She thought as a knot formed in her stomach.

"Oh, sorry," Elspeth said, taking a step back. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, it's okay," Hermione said quickly. "I wasn't paying attention."

"I was hoping to talk to you for a few minutes, if that's ok?" Elspeth asked.

"Talk to me?" Hermione asked. "What's going on?"

"Is everything ok, Hermione? You seem a little nervous," Elspeth asked curiously.

"No, no, everything is fine," Hermione said, thinking quickly. "You just surprised me. I was just thinking about the transfiguration test tomorrow." She said, doing her best to sound convincing.

"Oh, ok," Elspeth smiled. "I just have to ask you something. It won't take long. Can you meet me in the hallway?" She asked.

"…Oh, ok." Hermione said, trying to appear calm, even though her heart was racing.

"Great," Elspeth smiled, turning on her heel and walking towards the door.

Hermione stood up, exchanging a nervous glance with Harry and Ron before trailing Elspeth out of the great hall.

'She won't try something during the day,' Hermione thought to herself, trying to convince herself more than anything at this point. 'I'll be ok.'

Harry and Ron watched Hermione leave the great hall nervously. There were other members of the study group in the great hall with them. They couldn't check on Hermione without drawing their attention. They had to trust that Hermione could handle it.

Hermione stopped in front of the door, taking a deep breath to prepare herself, then she opened it and stepped outside.

"Over here, Hermione," Elspeth called from one of the school award display cases.

"I was out on an early morning walk yesterday," Elspeth said. "I saw you out there with Harry and Ron. What were you all doing?"

Hermione felt her heart hammering in her chest, but somehow managed to appear calm. "I've been trying to convince Ron and Harry to re-join the study group."

"Oh, well, that's good," Elspeth said. "But what does that have to do with running around the lake?"

"That one is a bit of a long story," Hermione replied. "Harry doesn't think our study methods are as good as they could be. He thinks that physical exercise helps with magical development, and we're missing out by excluding it."

"So you're out there with them to see if there's any merit to what he's saying?" Elspeth asked.

Hermione nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Well, that is an interesting theory," Elspeth said. "Harry, and Ron's grades are certainly a testament to that. Let us know how it goes. See you tomorrow night," Elspeth said as she walked off.

When Elspeth rounded the corner, Hermione let out a sigh of relief. She was so sure she had been found out.

She opened the door to the great hall, catching the eye of Ron, Draco, and Harry before walking out again, and heading to the unused classroom they used the previous day.

She didn't have to wait long for Harry and Ron to show up, followed by Draco a few minutes later.

"Are you ok? What happened?" Harry asked.

"I think it's ok," Hermione said. "Elspeth was just asking what I was doing outside. I don't think they know it was us."

Harry nodded. "That's a relief."

"So what do you want us to do at this meeting, Potter?" Draco asked.

"We need to find out what they're planning," Harry said. "If they've been operating as long as they say they have, they must have help from outside Hogwarts. Be discreet, but try to find out whatever you can."

Draco nodded in agreement, leaving first, followed shortly by Ron, to make sure no one saw them together them.

"Hermione, could you stay back a minute?" Harry asked. "There's something I want to ask you."

"Ok, what is it?" Hermione asked.

"I noticed over the last few days your spell work has been a bit off. Is everything ok?" Harry asked in concern.

"It's just been a difficult few days," Hermione said, brushing it off. "I've just had some trouble concentrating."

"I understand," Harry replied. "But I've noticed it before we found out about the study group, too. Have you been using advanced spells? Ones that are outside of our first year books?"

"It's fine Harry, I appreciate the concern, but there's nothing to worry about," Hermione replied. "I have to go," she said, walking out, not wanting to think about what was wrong with her magic in top of everything else going on.

Harry watched Hermione leave, not sure what to do. They had finally found some common ground, and he didn't want to ruin it by having another argument with her.

Harry gazed at the large crack on the wall of his mind. The jagged edged were scorched black and ran the length of the wall. He was still having trouble casting magic because of it.

"How bad is it?" Harry asked.

"Not as bad as it could have been," Merlin replied. "You weren't anywhere near ready to channel that kind of magic. You could have easily burned out the magical pathway."

"What would have happened then?" Harry asked.

"Those kinds of injuries take months to recover from, if at all," Merlin said.

"So, how do we fix it?" Harry asked.

"Place your hand on the crack," Merlin instructed. "Then direct your magic there, only your own magic," he warned.

Harry ran his fingers along the rough and jagged edges of the crack, following Merlin's instructions. He could feel a strain as his magic poured in, filling the crack. It wasn't gone. It looked more like it had been patched than anything else. He could still see the outline of it on the wall.

"You're going to feel it tomorrow, but that will fix the worst of it," Merlin said.

"How long before it's fully healed?" Harry asked.

"Probably a few more days at least," Merlin replied. "You'll have to avoid using the pathway until then."

"That could be a problem if I have another run in with Andre," Harry replied.

"You'll have to be careful then," Merlin warned. "And it isn't just him you have to worry about. That ritual made all of them stronger."

"I understand," Harry nodded, taking the warning to heart.

"We'll continue with our lessons then. It will be a couple of years after Amatheon started training me," Merlin explained. "Most of what I learned before that you already know, but there's a few things in this memory that could be useful for you."

The room faded away as they descended into another one of Merlin's memories.

I fell into a depression for the first few months, drowning my guilt with whiskey, spending almost a third of the gold I took from Jonas on it. But slowly, it became more bearable, allowing me to concentrate on what Amatheon was trying to teach me.

The first year had been the most difficult, accepting that my old life was over, and that I could never go back to it. Taking a stroll around the town, talking with Gaius as we spent the day brewing. They were all just memories now.

I spent the next two years after that, wandering from one town to another, never staying in one place for very long. I couldn't shake the feelings of loneliness and regret, but I had learned not to get too close to people.

I was grateful to at least have Amatheon to talk to, especially when I was traveling. I still had the cart and horses I took from Jonas, at least making the travel a little easier.

Even after all this time I still couldn't bring myself to visit the town Gaius died in, or his grave. The pain still felt as fresh as the day he died.

It took another year, and another third of my gold, before I could control my magic. By this point, it was nowhere near enough to open my apothecary, like I had planned.

In the towns and villages I visited, I brewed potions, further refining my technique with Amatheon's guidance. It was enough to earn a few coins, or more often, a roof over my head for the night.

I lived a far less comfortable existence than I had grown accustomed to with Gaius, especially as my meager supply of coins slowly dwindled. It eventually led to the difficult decision to sell the horses, knowing it was the only way I could survive.

Just when I was about to give up hope, my fortunes finally took a turn for the better. I was visiting one of the larger towns when a soldier approached me. My first instinct was to run, thinking that someone had found out my secret, and reported me, but the soldier didn't seem on edge. In fact, he looked almost bored to be there.

"I bring a request from the Duke of Tintagel," the soldier drawled. "He bids you to visit his castle, and teach his daughter your arts."

That was not what I was expecting. I wondered if it was some kind of trick. "My arts?" I asked.

"Aye, how you make your potions and poultices," the guard said, dropping the formality in his tone.

"My recipes are my livelihood," I said, trying to find a graceful way to decline. "It's not something I can just share on a whim."

"The Duke insists," the soldier said, resting his palm on the pommel of his sword.

I looked at his sword resting in its sheath, picking up on the implied threat. "…I see."

I looked around, knowing there would be no easy way out of this. Running away was not an option, not in broad daylight, and with so many of the townspeople watching. Attempting a spell was also out of the question. I had refused to learn any more from Amatheon than what was absolutely necessary, and combat spells were something I wanted nothing to do with.

"Relax," the guard said, picking up on my distress. "It's just another flight of fancy for Lady le Fay. Just teach her a couple of things and you'll get a bag of gold. It'll be the easiest money you ever made."

"…Very well. I suppose a few of my more common recipes wouldn't hurt," I said, with little other choice in the matter.

I needed the coin anyway, and if this was really a trap, there would have been a lot more soldiers, or at least I hoped that was the case.

"That's the spirit," the soldier said, slapping me on the back and nearly knocking me over. "You'll be done in less than a week, probably sooner, depending on how quickly Lady le Fay loses interest."

"A week?" I asked in surprise, thinking it would be just for the day.

"Aye, and three square meals a day to boot," the soldier said, leading me towards the castle in the distance.

I reluctantly followed the soldier, hoping that to get this over with quickly as I could.

"How did the Duke even know I was in town?" I asked.

"It's a small town," the soldier explained. "When a healer comes in selling potions that actually work instead of the normal snake oil that gets pawned off as medicine around here people take notice."

I had been in town for the last week. It was longer that I normally stayed, but unlike most towns, they had coin to exchange instead of the usual bartering.

"What can you tell me about the Duke?" I asked, hoping to get the measure of the man before meeting him.

"He's an honorable man," the soldier explained, "and he treats his people well. As long as you do your work, you have nothing to fear from him."

We continued in silence the rest of the way to the castle as I kept a watchful eye on our surroundings, looking for places to hide if I had to escape in a hurry.

It was another hour before we reached the gates of the castle and stepped into the courtyard.

As we approached, the unmistakable figure of the Duke stood waiting for us. He was broad shouldered, and dressed in fine robes. Beside him stood a young woman, her deep green eyes sparkling with curiosity.

I was smitten as soon as I laid eyes on her. Her dark hair cascaded down her back, swaying in the breeze. The subtle scent of her perfume lingered in the air, a sweet and floral aroma. She smiled at me, the corners of her lips turning upward, revealing a set of pearly white teeth.

Perhaps teaching her would not be as much of a burden as I thought it would be.

The following morning was when I had my first lesson with Lady le Fay. Despite my attraction to her, I kept my composure and focused on the task at hand, determined to keep things professional.

"Lady Le Fay, this poultice is a simple yet effective remedy to keep infections at bay and heal minor wounds." I explained, using a mortar as pestle to grind the mountain flower petals. "The hanging moss adds an extra layer of protection against disease," I said, grinding the mixture.

"Please, just call me Morgan," she said, leaning over to watch.

"Of course… Morgan," I replied, a light blush tinting my cheeks.

"May I try?" she asked, holding her hand out expectantly.

"Of course," I replied. "You need to grind the ingredients together until it is uniform in color," I instructed, holding out the mortar and pestle to her.

Morgan took the mortar, but as she reached for the pestle, it slipped from her hand. Her eyes widened as it fell to the ground, only to stop an inch from the ground and float in the air.

My jaw dropped as I stared down at the floating mortar. I knew I didn't catch it. I had learned to control that aspect of my magic a long time ago.

I looked at Morgan, knowing it was the only explanation. After all this time spent searching for others like me, and I had finally found one.

"Oh no," Morgan whispered, her eyes widened in fear as she looked up at me.

"It's alright Morgan," I said in a calm voice.

"Please don't tell anyone," she begged. "If the King finds out, I'm done for."

"It's ok," I said, making a snap decision. I used my magic to float the mortar into my hand, to the shock of Morgan.

"How?" Morgan asked.

"I'm like you," I explained, ignoring the warnings from Amatheon.

"Have you met others like us?" Morgan asked, her fear giving way to excitement.

"One," I replied.

"Where are they? Can we meet them too?" Morgan asked. "What are they like?"

I backpedaled a bit, still cautious about how much I wanted to reveal. "They're gone. They mostly just taught me how to hide my magic."

"How have you been able to hide your magic for so long?" I asked. "Do your parents know about it?"

"They do," Morgan said, sadly. "They don't want the king to find out about me, so I have to hide in the castle. The servants can't even talk to me."

"It's lonely, isn't it?" I asked, remembering my own childhood.

Morgan nodded. "Even after I got older and could control it a little more, they wouldn't let me leave the castle."

"You'll stay, won't you? And teach me?" Morgan said, taking my hand. "Please, I don't want to live like this forever," she implored.

I looked into her hopeful face and knew that I couldn't say no. Even with my previous experiences telling me otherwise, I couldn't condemn her to a life like this.

"Alright," I promised. "I'll stay just until you can control your magic."

"Oh, thank you Merlin! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Morgan said, throwing her arms around me, hugging me tight.

I was glad that Morgan couldn't see my face. It must have been as red as a tomato. She was a beautiful woman, the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on, and I knew I was completely out of my depth.

I kept my word, spending the next year teaching Morgan what I had learned, showing her how to control her magic. Her enthusiasm was infectious, always delighting in every new thing she learned.

The Lord and Lady of Tintagel, after getting over their shock, also treated me well, even allowing me to dine with them on occasion. In my spare time, I read books, explored the town, and with the help of Morgan, finally put my grief behind me.

Lord Tintagel had even taken a liking to me, teaching him more about business, and what I would need to set up my shop.

With each passing day, I fell more and more in love with Morgan. I did my best to hide my feelings, knowing that a high-born lady of her standing could never be with a commoner.

But one day, the inevitable happened. I ran out of things to teach her, but I didn't want to leave, so I did something I thought I would never do. I asked Amatheon to teach me again, not just how to control and suppress my magic, but also how to use it.

While everyone else slept I took lessons from Amatheon in my mind scape, staying a few steps ahead of what I taught Morgan, but it only bought me another six months.

Amatheon taught me everything he had learned, finally going back into the ether from where he came. The silence was jarring, and for the first time in many years, I was alone in my mind again.

With a heavy heart, I realized what I had to do. There was no point in putting off the inevitable any longer. I walked to Morgan's room, prepared to say goodbye.

"Merlin, there you are," Morgan smiled. "I almost thought you weren't coming today."

"I'm sorry, Morgan, but there's something important I have to tell you," I said.

"Merlin? What's wrong?" Morgan asked, her smile fading. "I've never seen you like this."

I looked at Morgan, struggling to find the words. "…I have nothing left to teach you, Morgan," I finally admitted.

Morgan's eyes widened as she heard the new. "No, that can't be right." She shook her head in denial. "There must be some spell or potion left to learn!"

"There isn't," I said, gently. "I should have told you weeks ago, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I have to leave. I'm sorry."

"Where will you go?" Morgan asked, her voice cracking.

"I have enough gold now to open my shop. I suppose I'll find a parcel of land somewhere," I said, but the words felt hollow, even to me. It wasn't truly what I wanted anymore.

"Then I will ask father to give you a parcel of land here," Morgan smiled in triumph. "You don't have to leave."

"Your father asked that I leave Tintagel after you complete your training," I explained sadly.

"What? Why?" Morgan demanded. "You must have misheard him. I'll speak to him and straighten this out." She said, turning to leave.

"No," I said, taking her hand. "The longer I stay here, the more suspicious it becomes. The townspeople are already talking. It's only a matter of time before someone draws the wrong conclusion."

"What are they saying?" Morgan demanded.

"They say that I'm not here as your teacher…" Merlin trailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

"I don't understand," Morgan said. "What do they think you have been doing this past year?"

"…They say… that I'm your lover," I said, blushing.

"Oh," Morgan said, her eyes widening in realization. Then she looked down at her hand, still firmly in my grip.

I looked down, following her gaze, finally realizing how close we were standing. I quickly released her hand and took a step back. "Sorry," I mumbled, looking away.

There was a long moment of silence between us as we considered our position.

"Merlin?" Morgan asked, taking a step closer and grasping my hand again.

My eyes met Morgan's, and the rest of the world seemed to fade away. She had the most remarkable eyes, a deep green that I had lost himself in on more than one occasion.

"Yes, Morgan?" I asked.

Morgan pressed her lips to mine in a soft and gentle kiss.

Chapter Text

James slumped in his chair, nursing his bruised ego, and the throbbing ache in his left cheek. He could still hear Moody's voice echoing in his head, taunting him with every one of his failures.

Moody had come into his house, taken him from his bed, threatened his life, and worst of all, there was nothing he could do about it.

Moody outclassed him, both physically and magically. He was no match for the former Auror in a direct fight. He knew that. His skills leaned more towards transfiguration and charms instead of combat.

He had a difficult time explaining his bruises to Lily and Gloria. In the end, he had to tell them he fell down the stairs. The truth would only cause them to worry.

The thing he hated most was how weak he felt it that moment. How Moody treated him like a speck of dirt on his boot, and how he just took it, how he cowered in front of the man, how he didn't even try to defend himself.

Moody had exposed his weaknesses, ripped off his rose-tinted spectacles, and forced him to see the truth of himself for the first time in a very long time.

He resolved to build himself back up, better and stronger than before. He would build on his strengths and make up for his weaknesses. Moody didn't know it yet, but by letting him live, he had sealed his own fate. The next time they met, he would be ready for him.

He wouldn't shy away from getting his hands dirty anymore. He would become just as ruthless as his enemies and take back everything that was rightfully his.

He wouldn't ask for his position back on the Wizengamot, he would take it, and for that, he would need his fortune. The monthly stipend he received was a pittance, a mere fraction of what he should have. Then he would deal with Moody, and after that, the boy.

"James, are you in here?" Lily asked, poking her head into his study, interrupting his dark thoughts.

"Yes," James replied, clearing his throat as he sat up in his chair and looked at his wife.

"What are you doing in here?" She asked curiously. She had never know James to to spend this much time in his study before.

"Just thinking," James replied.

"About what?" She asked, stepping inside, hoping he wasn't planning something on his own again, especially since they made their agreement.

"I need to get control of my family fortune Lily," James explained. "It's the only way to get out of this mess."

Lily nodded in understanding. "Maybe we can find another solicitor?" She suggested.

"We've gone down that road before," James reminded her, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "All they do is shuffle their papers and collect their fees."

"What else can we do?" Lily asked.

"…Do you remember Mungdungus Fletcher?" James asked.

Lily furrowed her brows, remembering the name, but having trouble placing it. "…He's the thief, right? He works for the Order?"

"Amongst other things," James agreed. "He's also good at gathering information. We've tried going through the solicitors before. Maybe we'll have better luck with him."

"I don't know, James," Lily said reluctantly. "He doesn't have the best reputation. What if he does something? The last thing we need is for our names to get dragged through the mud again."

"We'll only pay him to gather information, not to do anything illegal," James assured her. "Then we'll take what he finds to a solicitor."

"…Alright," Lily agreed, somewhat hesitantly. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to see what he finds."

James went to the fireplace and threw in a pinch of floo powder, causing a burst of emerald green flames to erupt from the logs. He still remembered where the man lived. With any luck, he was still at home.

"What do ya want?" Mungdungus said, appearing in the fireplace.

"I have a business proposition for you," James replied.

"You're Potter, eh?" Mungdungus said, recognizing him. "Did Albus send ya?"

"…Not exactly," James replied. "We need your help to find something."

"And we would like you to find it discreetly," Lily added.

"Why don't you step through?" James suggested. "We can talk here."

Mung looked around the room carefully for any signs of a trap. 'It seems safe enough,' he thought as he stepped through the fireplace, looking around again, just to be on the safe side.

"We need your help to find someone," James explained. "They manage the Potter fortune. The name of the firm they work for is Dalton & Moore."

"Well, why don't ya just ask them?" Mung asked, wondering why they would want to hire him for something so simple.

"We've tried," Lily explained, "but they won't tell us."

"That's not much to go on," Mung muttered, scratching his head. "It's gonna cost ya. I need at least 5000 galleons to start."

Lily and James looked at each other, thinking the same thing. 5000 galleons was no small amount of money, especially if he didn't get them the results they needed. They also didn't know if he would just run off once he got the money.

"We've payed a lot of solicitors upfront with nothing to show for it," James explained. "We'll pay you after you find who we're looking for."

"It don't work that way," Mung said, shaking his head. "You pay me first, or I don't do the work, simple as that."

"4000, half now, and half when you find him," James offered. It was a lot of money, almost twice as much as they spent on solicitors, but it would be worth it if he found what they needed.

Lily looked at James sharply, knowing they wouldn't be able to replace that kind of money easily.

"…Alright, deal," Mung said, hiding his smile. He would have done it for the 2000.

"Alright, wait here," James said as he walked out of the study.

Lily quickly followed him out. "Are you sure about this, James?" She asked, not liking the look of the man. "Maybe it would be better to try another solicitor first?"

"We have to do this Lily," James insisted as he retrieved the money. "We aren't getting anywhere with the solicitors."

Lily nodded reluctantly, not having any other ideas.

"Alright, 2000 galleons," James said, handing Mung the pouch.

Mung dug his hands into the pouch greedily. This was the best pay he'd got in months. "I'll let you know what I find," he said, leaving through the fireplace.

"Come on James," Lily said taking his hand after Mung left. "Let's go spend some time with Glory, she's been feeling a little left out recently.

Harry sat on his bed reading the letter Ted sent him, hoping he had found something to help Tom.

Hello Harry,

It took a lot more work than expected, but I found the name of the company that rents the building to Tom. It's called Evergreen Investments.

I sent them a purchase offer, just like we discussed, 10% above market value. We should get a response from them pretty soon.

Considering how much they raised Tom's rates, they'll jump on an offer like this.

It should just take a couple more days to hammer out the details, and then you'll own the property outright.

I've also got some good news for you on the Nimbus deal too. All the contracts are ready to go. We just have to meet with the Nimbus board and sign. I'll arrange it for this weekend so it doesn't get in the way of your classes.

Ted.

Harry put the letter down, glad that at least something was going right. He wondered if it was a good idea to tell Ted about the study group.

He only learned what they were up to because of Merlin, and he wasn't quite ready to reveal that secret. What if Ted thought he was crazy, listening to voices in his head?

He would need to find out more before he involved Ted, get some kind of proof that he could act on.

He checked his watch. There were only a few more minutes before Draco and Hermione finished the study group meeting.

He went down to the common room, and with Ron, they left the tower, making their way to the abandoned classroom they used for their meetings.

It was another ten minutes before Draco and Hermione arrived. Ron looked outside the door, making sure they weren't followed before he closed and locked the door.

"How did it go?" Harry asked.

"I don't think they suspect us," Hermione said, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"They're certainly up to something. I'll give you that Potter," Draco added.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"They may not think we're onto them, but they're also keeping us at arm's length," Draco explained. "In the beginning, there was all this talk about some kind of big project, but all we've done so far is study. They don't trust us with what they're really doing."

"Were you able to find out anything?" Ron asked.

"Not really," Hermione said. "We didn't want to push too hard and make them suspicious."

Harry nodded. He understood the need to go slowly to avoid suspicion, but there was far too much they didn't know. "Do they call themselves anything? I can't imagine they called themselves the study group for all this time."

If they had a name, he could ask Ted to look into them, or Merlin might have even heard of them.

"No," Hermione shook her head. "We didn't want it to sound like we were interrogating them." After what happened in the forest, she wanted as little to do with them as possible.

"Draco, what about Bole? He's in your house. Can you see what you can find out about him?" Harry asked.

"Easier said that done," Draco said. "He's not going to come out and tell me what's going on. The only option would be to search his room, and I can't do that without the other third year's noticing."

"We need a to find a way to distract them then," Harry replied.

"Wait," Hermione said excitedly. "I have an idea! I read about it one of my books, polyjuice potion. We can disguise ourselves as other students and sneak in."

"How long does it take to brew?" Harry asked. It wasn't a potion he had read about yet.

That was when Hermione's smile dimmed. "A month."

"A month is too long," Harry said. "And that's if we don't make any mistakes in the brewing process." With a brewing time of a month, it was likely an advanced potion as well.

"Maybe not," Draco said, thinking about it. "There's a shop in Knockturn Alley my father visits, Shyverwretch's. They can sell you the potion."

Harry nodded, liking the idea. "Alright, I can buy enough vials for us to search their rooms."

Just as they were about to leave, they heard the door knob shake. They drew their wands, pointing them at the door, all thinking the same thing. How did the study group find them?

Harry looked around the room, but there was nowhere to hide, and they were on the third floor, so going out the window wasn't an option.

He aimed his wand at the door, mentally preparing himself for the fight that was about to happen.

"Oi! Open the door!" a familiar voice called out as the doorknob rattled again.

"Fred, George?" Harry called out as he lowered his wand. "Is that you?"

"Yes, now can you open the door?" they chorused back.

Ron unlocked the door, letting them inside.

When Hermione, Harry and Draco saw them, they also lowered their wands.

"What are you doing here?" Ron asked.

"Andre and his friends," Fred replied.

"They went into the forbidden forest," George finished.

"What are they doing there?" Harry asked.

"No idea," Fred replied. "They map doesn't extend very far into the forest, but all of them went out there, except for him," He said, pointing at Draco.

Harry didn't like the sound of that at all. It had only been a couple of days since they performed the ritual. What could they be doing now?

"How long ago did they go into the forest?" Harry asked.

"About a half hour ago," George answered.

Harry sighed. That meant they could be practically anywhere inside the forest. Finding them would be next to impossible, and if he ran into another acromantula as big as the last one, he wouldn't be able to pull off the same trick to beat it this time.

Andre trudged through the forest alongside the rest of the study group, minus Hermione and Draco. He had really hoped to avoid the forest, but after what happened, they didn't have a choice. They were on a timetable, and couldn't afford to fall behind, not when they were so close.

Someone was spying on them, and even after searching the school from top to bottom, they couldn't figure out who it was.

No one had visited Madam Pompfrey in the last few days, at least with injuries consistent with fighting Acromantula's.

That only left one option. The people they chased through the forest weren't students at all. 'Maybe it's what they wanted them to think? Send them on a wild goose chase. But if they weren't students, then who were they?' he thought.

"We're almost there," Ismelda said as she kept a watchful eye for any sign of trouble.

"Good," Talbott replied, pointing his wand at every suspicious looking shadow.

He knew they couldn't risk doing the empowerment ritual in the astronomy tower, or anywhere inside the school for that matter.

They crossed into the clearing and prepared for the ritual. It wouldn't give them the same boost the last one had, but it was a step in the right direction.

He turned to look at the Thestral Ismelda and Elspeth led into the clearing, watching as it reared up on its hind legs as it crossed the threshold, almost like it knew what its fate was going to be.

A part of him felt sorry for the creature, but he knew it was sacrificing its life for a greater cause.

They hammered a few pegs into the ground, tying down its legs securely and pulled out their ritual daggers.

As one, they descended on the Thestral, much in the same way they had done for the Acromantula.

The poor creature's screams filled the night air as its life blood seeped into the ground. With each passing moment, the Thestral's thrashing grew weaker and weaker until it finally crumpled to the ground, its body limp and lifeless.

Andre cleaned his ritual knife and put it away, feeling the creature's magic flow into him. 'This ritual was nothing short of incredible,' he thought. He could practically feel his body thrum with newfound power.

He looked around the clearing, hoping the spies would show themselves again. This time, they wouldn't escape.

Harry returned to his dorm room and pulled the curtains around his bed, then closed his eyes, dropping into his mind scape.

He could still see the jagged line in the stone wall, a vivid reminder of the battle he fought in the forest. The patch seemed to be holding, and he hoped it would be fully heal soon.

"It'll be another two or three days at least," Merlin said.

Harry nodded. "What do you think they're doing in the forest?"

"Nothing good," Merlin replied. "But if I had to guess, they realized the castle is no longer safe for them, and they wanted to avoid being discovered a second time."

"They must have done the ritual on Halloween for a reason," Harry pressed. "With all the downsides of the ritual, they must have done it for a larger purpose."

"Trust your instincts," Merlin replied. "You were right not to search for them tonight. They are far more dangerous now than they have ever been before."

"How can I stop them?" Harry asked. Even if he could pull off the same trick by channeling magic, it would put him out of the fight after the first spell.

"I don't know that you can, at least on your own," Merlin replied.

Harry thought about bringing it up with the Minister and Ted again, but wasn't even sure where to begin. Would they even believe him without any proof? It would be his word against Andre and his friends.

"You'll have to think of something," Merlin said, picking up on his thoughts. "In the meantime, I'll show you the next set of my memories."

"Merlin, not that I don't find your memories interesting, but I need something to stop Andre," Harry pointed out.

"That was my thought as well," Merlin agreed. "There's a few spell I used in this set of memories, spells that aren't in any of your text books. I think you'll find them useful."

The room slowly faded away as Harry descended into another one of Merlin's memories.

When Morgan kissed me, it was the happiest moment of my life. I didn't know how long it would last, or what her father would do if he ever found out, but at the time, I didn't care.

We pretended to have more lessons so her father wouldn't get suspicious, but he had always been a perceptive man. He knew something had changed, even if he didn't know exactly what.

As the months passed, he dropped in on our lessons more and more, watching us intently. Looking back on it, I'm sure he at least suspected what we were up to.

Then one day, without any warning, he said the words I had been dreading. I wouldn't be teaching Morgan anymore. He said that she learned everything she needed to, and it was time for me to leave.

He arranged a betrothal for Morgan. She was to marry Urien of the house Rheged, a wealthy lord living in the north.

Morgan and I were devastated, having to face the reality of our situation. As much as we wanted to be together, we knew her father would never allow it.

I went to bed that night with a broken heart, knowing that I would again have to leave the place that had become my home.

I lay awake, tossing and turning, trying in vain to think of a way to convince the Duke to let me stay a little longer, but eventually I had to accept the truth. He wanted me gone before Urien arrived, and there was noting I could think of that would convince him otherwise.

Just as I was about to fall into a restless sleep I heard a soft knock on my door. I got up, curious to see who it could be this late at night. Maybe it was one of the guards? Would the Duke force me to leave in the middle of the night, without even saying goodbye to Morgan?

"Merlin," Morgan whispered when I opened the door. She pushed me into the room, quickly shutting the door behind her.

"What's going on?" I asked, the confusion evident in my tone as I took in her appearance. She was dressed in her riding clothes, along with a dark cloak. Where was she planning to go at this time of night?

"I'm coming with you," Morgan declared. "I don't want to marry Urien," she said, kissing me. "I want to be with you."

"You can't," I said in shock. "Your father will never allow it."

"I don't care what father wants," Morgan replied, her voice firm. "I can't spend the rest of my life hiding who I am, pretending to be something I'm not," she continued. "You and me together. We can see the world, find others like us. That's what I want," she said, taking my hand.

"Are you sure?" I asked, doing my best to hide the hope I felt as I looked into her eyes. "If you come with me, you may never see your parents again. We'll be on the run for a long time. It won't be an easy life," I warned.

"I'm sure," Morgan said, holding out a pouch of gold coins. "I took this from my father's study. It'll keep us fed for at least a few months, and we can sell potions along the way to make some more."

I looked at Morgan. She was so beautiful, better than I deserved, and I couldn't imagine my life with her. I pulled her close, kissing her deeply. "Alright," I said. "Let's do it."

I went to the closet and quickly changed, taking my belongings, and packing them away in my rucksack.

We snuck out of the room, making our way down the stairs, hoping to sneak out without anyone noticing, but it seemed the Duke was one step ahead of us.

Instead of a single guard patrolling the ground floor like normal, there were at least a dozen. There was no way we could sneak past them.

I looked at Morgan, our eyes meeting as we came to the same realization. If we were going to escape the castle, we would have to find another way out.

"Are there any spells you know? Something we can use to get past them?" Morgan whispered desperately.

'Amatheon,' I thought. 'I need your help. How can we get past them?'

'Merlin, this is unwise,' Amatheon replied. 'If the Duke catches you, it will cost you your life. Stop now, before it's too late.'

'I can't,' I thought back. 'I can't leave without Morgan. You must know a way to get past the guards. Help me, please.'

'…There is something,' Amatheon relented. 'But you've never tried it before, and it's risky.'

'What is it?' I thought desperately. 'I'll try anything.'

'There's a spell. It can do what you need,' Amatheon explained. 'They'll still be able to see you, but will dismiss your presence as unimportant.'

'That's perfect,' I thought. 'How do I do it?'

'There's more to it than that,' Amatheon said. 'It's a very delicate spell. If they touch you, if you make a loud noise, anything that would draw their attention to you, and the spell will fail.'

'Show me how to do it,' I asked.

Amatheon showed me how to cast the spell. It felt for a moment like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. I turned to look at Morgan, wondering if the spell had worked.

"What is Merlin?" Morgan asked, wondering why he was looking at her strangely.

'She's already seen you,' Amatheon explained. 'It only works on people that don't know you're there.'

"I know a spell," I said to Morgan. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course," Morgan replied without hesitation.

I took Morgan's hand, casting the spell on her as well.

Morgan yelped, "what was that?"

I quickly explained how the spell worked to Morgan. We didn't have much time. The sun would come up in a few hours, and we had to be as far away from the castle as possible before anyone discovered we were gone.

We carefully made our way down the stairs again, hoping that the spell would work. When we reached the bottom step, a guard stopped, looking directly at us. Morgan and I froze, afraid to move a muscle.

My heart pounded in my chest as the seconds ticked by. I was afraid to even breathe.

After a long moment, the guard shook his head and continued his rounds. I let out a sigh of relief as the guard turned the corner. We carefully slipped past the rest of the guards, but there were still a few close calls in the narrow hallways, but eventually we made it to the front door.

I took one last look to make sure no one saw us, then opened the door, and we slipped outside.

"Let's go to the stables," Morgan whispered. "We'll be able to get further away with horses."

I nodded, following behind Morgan, hoping that her father only stationed the extra guards inside the castle, but when we arrived at the stable doors, we heard them.

'The duke must have called in all the guards, even the ones protecting the town,' I thought.

When I peaked inside, I spotted another three guards waiting for us. I knew there was no way we could get a horse, let alone two, without them noticing, and breaking the spell. I motioned for Morgan to stay by the door. This was going to be risky.

I stepped into the barn, maneuvering between the guards and let lose my magic, violently throwing them away from me. I took them by surprise, sending them sprawling to the ground, and knocking them out cold.

Morgan looked at me in awe. "You never taught me how to do that."

"I will, later," I promised. "We need to hurry," I said, quickly saddling a horse. "The guards are going to wake up soon."

Morgan nodded, saddling her own horse.

I looked outside the barn. It didn't seem like anyone noticed we were gone yet. We led the horses out of the barn and mounted them, making our way to the front gate. As we approached, I knew the spell had run its course. The guards noticed us as soon as we got within sight of them. Two riders coming to the gate in the middle of the night was too suspicious for them to ignore.

There were more soldiers this time, thankfully none of them were mounted. I raised my hand, sending out a wave of magic, and throwing them back as we galloped through.

This was the most dangerous part. There was no hiding anymore. We had to put as much distance as we could between ourselves and the castle, then hide, and hope they didn't find us.

It wasn't long before we heard horses galloping behind us. I knew they wouldn't try their bows for fear of hitting Morgan, but we wouldn't be able to escape with them following so closely behind us.

I looked over my shoulder, and it was worse than I thought. It was a total of five soldiers, lead by Morgan's father.

Even from this distance, I could tell he was furious, and if he caught us I was as good as dead.

"I have an idea!" Morgan shouted. "We need to get to the bridge!"

There was a bridge that crossed the river at the edge of town, and it was the only place to cross for miles.

I turned my horse towards the bridge, already having an idea what Morgan was planning to do.

The one advantage we had over the soldiers was our lack of armor. They were weighed down by it, slowing down their horses. It was just enough to put a little more distance between us as we approached the bridge.

The moment we crossed the bridge, we slowed our horses. Morgan aimed her hand at the bridge, sending out a wave of flames.

Morgan's father and his soldiers came to a halt in front of the bridge, their horses rearing back at the burst of fire. I could see his face through the flames. He didn't say a word to us, just looked at Morgan in shock and sadness.

There was no hiding it anymore, not from his soldiers or the people of Tintagel. Morgan had used magic publicly. She could never come home again.

The duke took one last sad look at his daughter before he turned around without a word, his soldiers in tow, as they returned to the castle.

I looked at Morgan, her eyes welled up with tear as she watched her father leave. It was be the last time she ever saw him.

"Let's go," Morgan said sadly, nudging her horse to get it moving down the road. She hadn't thought about what would happen when she used her magic, too caught up in the moment, and the adventure they were embarking on, but there was no turning back now.

I looked at Morgan, seeing the pain in her eyes, dousing the thrill and excitement I felt up until now. Morgan's father had been good to me, treated me kindly, and I had betrayed him.

I felt a lump of regret form in the pit of my stomach, wondering if I should have convinced Morgan to stay.

Chapter Text

Harry stood just outside Knockturn Alley, glad to be out of the castle. It was nerve racking, constantly looking over his shoulder, wondering if Andre and the study group had figured out it was them in the forest.

The empowerment ritual the study group performed on Halloween still sent shivers down his spine. What they did to the Acromantula, how they somehow managed to sneak it into the castle without anyone noticing. Everything he found out about them just led to more and more questions.

He hoped this plan worked, and they could finally get some answers. With the last thought, he stepped into the alley, making his way to the potion shop Draco told him about, Shyverwretch's.

Like everyone else, he heard the rumors about what went on in Knockturn alley, what was bought and sold, and how dangerous it was. He kept his ring on his finger to hide his identity, as well as the Gringott's card, just in case he needed to make a quick escape.

He walked past the various shops, doing his best to avoid the attention of the witches and wizards milling about until he finally spotted the old wooden sign of the shop he was searching for.

He took a deep breath to prepare himself, then pushed open the door, and stepped inside.

The first thing he noticed was the pungent odor, a combination of multiple potion ingredients in various states of decay littering the shop.

On the walls, he could see jars of murky liquid containing both plants and animals. Most of which he couldn't even identify, and the ones he could, made him want to turn around and leave as quickly as possible.

Under normal circumstances, he would never visit a place like this, but he didn't have a choice. Brewing the potion on his own would take a month. It was time he didn't have.

"Are you here to buy something or are you here to window shop?" A gravelly voice snidely called out from the back of the shop.

Harry looked forward in surprise. The man standing behind the counter who seemingly appearing out of nowhere. He wore a black hood that covered the top half of his face, and was hunched over, further obscuring his face.

"I was told you have polyjuice potion for sale," Harry said, pushing down his growing unease as he walked further into the dimly lit shop.

"Really?" the man asked, studying him carefully. "Who told you that?"

"I'm here to make a purchase, not for gossip," Harry said, keeping his voice calm and measured. Whoever this was, they were fishing for information. He couldn't afford to let his guard down, not in a place like this. "Do you have the polyjuice or not?"

The man let out a raspy laugh, realizing he had been found out. "You heard right. I have a batch that was brewed just yesterday."

"How many doses do you have left?" Harry asked.

"Twelve," the man replied, reaching under the counter and pulling out a box.

"I'll take all of them," Harry decided. Depending on what they found out about the study group, they may need more.

The man didn't bat an eye. "That'll be $480 galleons, $40 galleons per dose."

Harry nodded, knowing it was going to be expensive. "How long will each dose last?"

"About 2 hours, give or take," the man replied.

Harry counted out the galleons, and placed them on the counter, watching as the man eagerly snatched them up. He took the shrunken box of vials from the man's outstretched hand, and turned on his heel, glad to be done with him.

Looking down at his watch Harry realized he had a few minutes left before he was supposed to meet Ted at the Leaky Cauldron. He hoped he had some good news for Tom as well.

He arrived at the pub a few minutes later to find Ted already there waiting for him. "Harry," Ted greeted, standing up. "Thanks for meeting me."

"No problem," Harry replied. "Did you get a response about the Leaky Cauldron?"

"…I did.. and it isn't good news." Tom sighed. "I'm not sure what's going on yet, but they rejected the offer."

"Rejected it?" Harry asked in surprise. "Are they asking for more money?"

"That's what I'm still trying to find out," Ted answered. "They haven't replied to any of my follow up requests."

"Is that normal?" Harry asked.

"No," Ted shook his head. "Evergreen is a property management company. They have very specific criteria for this kind of thing. They would only rejected our offer if they got a better one, or if they could make more money long term by keeping it. Either way, they should have come back with a counteroffer," he said, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

"So, what do we do now?" Harry asked, worried about what would happen to Tom if this dragged out much longer.

"I'll keep working on it," Ted promised. "I have a few associates I can reach out to. We'll figure out what they're up to and get this settled soon."

"Tom," Harry asked. "How are you handling this? I know it's taking longer than we expected to get this sorted out."

"I'm going through most of my savings to keep the place running," Tom admitted reluctantly. "But I can hold out a little longer."

"Ted, can you arrange for Tom's monthly rent payments to come from my account?" Harry asked.

"We've already talked about this, Harry. I can't take your money," Tom denied.

"Ted and I are the ones that came up with this idea," Harry replied. "You shouldn't have to spend your life savings just so I can grow my investment portfolio."

"I knew the risks going in," Tom reminded him. "I was the one that decided to stay put, instead of moving the pub."

"Alright," Harry relented, knowing that Tom wouldn't budge. "A zero interest loan, then. Just pay me back whenever you get the money."

Tom looked at Harry, knowing he wasn't going to drop it. He really was a good kid, and it would take a lot of pressure off of him too. "Thank you Harry, I promise I will pay back every knut."

"I'll make the arrangements with the goblins, Tom," Ted added.

"Harry, we should get going. It's almost time for the meeting with Nimbus," Ted said.

"Alright," Harry agreed. "We'll get this worked out soon Tom, I promise." He said as they left the pub.

"Ted, is there anything else we can do for Tom?" Harry asked as they walked to the Nimbus Broom Company.

"The only options left are to move the pub, or to get Evergreen to accept the purchase offer." Ted explained, frustrated by his lack of progress on the purchase. "There's so many shell companies involved it's difficult to find out who's in charge, or if they've even received our updated offers."

"I'll keep at it," Ted promised. "If it takes much longer, I'll help Tom find another location. It's not ideal, but I'll make sure he lands on his feet," He said as they arrived at the Nimbus building.

When they stepped inside they found an older man waiting for them. "Hello, you must be Mr. Tonks, and Mr. Potter," the man said as he held out his hand for them to shake. "My name is Devlin Whitehorn. I'm the owner of the Nimbus Broom Company."

"It's nice to meet you," Harry said, shaking his hand first.

"And you as well," Devlin replied with a smile. "I thought we could start with a tour of our research and development department, then get down to business."

"That would be great," Harry smiled, his eyes lighting up. His father had never allowed him to fly a broom, but he had always wondered what it would feel like, and how they stayed in the air.

"Right this way," Devlin replied with another smile, glad that his new partner seemed to have a passion for flying as well.

Harry and Ted followed him down the hall and into a large, cavernous room. There were already people there, milling about, doing tests and examining various broom components.

Devlin led them to a large table with a broom resting on it. The sleek design immediately catching Harry's attention as he took in every detail from the polish on the handle, to the arrangement of the bristles. It was like no other broom he had ever seen before.

Devlin caught the look in Harry's eye, now positive that he had chosen the right investor to bring on. He picked up the broom, handing it to him. "What you have in your hands is the fastest production broom in the world, or at least it will be when we launch it next summer," he explained, his eyes sparkling with pride.

"Wow," Harry said, feeling the weight and balance of the broom in his hand, admiring how light it was.

"We're finalizing the charms and enchantments now, with a goal of starting production in February," Devlin continued.

"Are all of those applied to the bristles?" Harry asked, examining them.

"They used to be," Devlin explained. "Before we launched the Nimbus 1000, that was the process everyone used. It was easy to design, easy to manufacture, but not built to last."

"They became extremely unstable when the bristles take any kind of damage, which was almost guaranteed with the kind of Quidditch we played back then. It took a little longer with the production models, but eventually the same thing happened to them."

"Now it's the handle that carries all the charms and enchantments. It's much more durable, and far less prone to failure," Devlin finished.

Harry nodded. That explained what happened to Neville's broom. It was a Cleansweep three, made well before the Nimbus 1000's came out.

"So why would any of them use the bristle method if they were so dangerous?" Harry asked curiously.

"Cost," Devlin explained. "When the handle holds all the spell work, it's more complicated and time consuming to engineer. The charms and enchantments are packed into a very small surface area, and if you're not careful with your design, they can interact with each other and become dangerous." He said, pulling out a large wooden board. "That's why we always start with this, and test and modify the spell work so that doesn't happen."

"So that board is in essence a Nimbus 2000?" Harry asked, staring at the unvarnished wooden board engraved with runes.

"Mostly," Devlin agreed. "It doesn't have the same refinements or efficiency the broom has, but even this test board will out fly any other broom on the market."

"Sir?" one of Devlin's barristers interrupted, holding out the paperwork, knowing that if he didn't interrupt Mr. Whitehorn they would be here all day.

"What? Oh right," Devlin chuckled ruefully. remembering why Harry was there in the first place.

Ted took the contract from the other barristers and looked them over before he handed it to Harry. "Everything's in order Harry."

Harry nodded, taking the quill the other barrister handed him and the contract from Ted and signed, then handed it to Devlin for him to do the same.

He caught a flash out of the corner of his eye as Devlin held up the contract, noticing the photographer from the Prophet standing in the back.

"How about one more?" He called out, holding up the camera.

Devlin put his arm on Harry's shoulder as they held up the contract and posed for the picture.

"Mr. Devlin, can I ask a favor?" Harry asked, as he thought more about what happened with the school brooms.

"Absolutely, and please call me Devlin," he said. "We're business partners now, after all."

"Then please call me Harry," Harry agreed. "The school brooms at Hogwarts are in a bad state, and are getting worse every day. Are there any older model brooms you would consider selling? Something that would be good for first years to learn on?"

"Are they still using those Cleansweep three's form back in my day?" Devlin asked curiously. They were barely functional when he was in Hogwarts. It was actually one of the reasons he founded Nimbus.

"They are," Harry confirmed, "and after what you told me about the bristles, it explains a lot."

"That's an excellent idea, Mr. Potter," one of the marketing people joined in. "It would be great advertising for when we launch the 2000. We have about 30 Nimbus 1500's in the storeroom collecting dust, and we're going to have a much harder time selling them after the 2000's launch, anyway. We could even donate them."

"I like it," Devlin smiled. "We'll have them packaged up and delivered to the school in the next few days."

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Harry," Devlin said, shaking his hand. "But if you'll excuse me, there's still a lot of work I have to do before the start of final production."

"It was nice meeting you too," Harry replied as he left with Ted.

"That was great Harry," Ted praised. "I couldn't have done it any better myself."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked curiously. "I should be the one thanking you for getting the deal worked out."

"The part about donating the brooms to the school," Ted explained. "People love that kind of stuff. You probably pushed this article from somewhere on page four to the front page."

"Oh," Harry replied. It hadn't been his intention to do that. "I just thought the school brooms were dangerous, and if I could purchase some replacements from Devlin, it would help."

"You've got a good heart, Harry," Ted said sincerely. "I wish more people acted the way you did," he said, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Thanks," Harry replied, a little flustered, still having a difficult time dealing with compliments.

"You know, I just had an idea about Tom," Ted said, changing the subject. "How would you feel about paying a visit to the Minister?"

"Sure, but why?" Harry asked curiously.

"With Evergreen stonewalling me, it might be better to take the offer directly to the property owner," Ted explained. "And considering how helpful Fudge was with the scholarship, he might also help with this, too."

".. I'm not sure," Harry replied, feeling uncomfortable. "Minister Fudge is a friend. I don't like the idea of using him to turn a profit."

"We're not doing anything illegal, Harry," Ted explained. "The owner of the company is supposed to be publicly available information, and they're making it very difficult to find them. This isn't the kind of thing the Ministry puts up with. Besides that, the Minister is a smart man. I'm sure he'll be able to use the information to his advantage at some point down the road."

"…Alright," Harry finally agreed. He wanted to help Tom, and nothing else seemed to have worked so far.

Cornelius looked up from his newspaper when he heard a knock at the door. He wasn't expecting guests. He sighed, putting down his newspaper and went to check who it was, leaving his fresh cup of tea on the table.

"Harry, Mr. Tonks?" he said in surprise when he opened the door. "Is everything alright?" He asked, wondering what Harry was doing out of Hogwarts.

"Sorry to drop in on you like this," Harry apologized. "Do you have a few minutes? There's something important we want to ask you."

"Of course, of course. Please come in," Cornelius said. "I was just having a cup of tea. Would you two care for a cup?"

"Thank you, that would be great," Harry replied as he and Ted stepped inside the house.

As they drank their tea, Harry and Ted explained the situation with Evergreen and what it meant for Tom and the Leaky Cauldron.

"It's strange, I'll give you that," Cornelius said as he finished his tea, keeping what he had learned about Evergreen to himself. "But not exactly illegal, more of a gray area really, but I'll certainly look into it. Tom's a good man, and it's a travesty, what this Evergreen is doing. I'll owl you with what I find out," he promised.

"Thank you, Minister," Harry replied, "and I'm sorry to bother you with this. I know you probably have more important things to deal with."

"You don't have to thank me, Harry," Cornelius replied, "and I know you're not doing this just to make a few galleons. If you run into another problem like this, let me know. I'll do what I can to help."

After Harry and Ted left, Cornelius threw a pinch of floo powder into the fireplace. "Rita, can you step through? There's been a development."

"What is it?" Rita asked, poking her head into the fireplace curiously.

"It's about Evergreen," Cornelius said.

Rita quickly stepped through the fireplace, eager for a new lead. Finding information about Evergreen had been next to impossible so far.

"What did you find out?" She all but demanded.

"Harry just paid me a visit," Cornelius explained. "It seems Evergreen owns the Leaky Cauldron and are trying to force Tom out of business."

Rita furrowed her brow, trying to make the connection, but came up short. "Why would Potter want to put Tom out of business?"

"I'm not sure either," Cornelius admitted.

"What did Harry have to say about it?" Rita asked.

"I didn't tell him," Cornelius replied.

"What? Why?" Rita asked in surprise. Harry could have given them a lot of insight into what Potter was up to.

"I want him as far away from this as possible," Cornelius explained. "If this goes sideways, our reputations may never recover, and if Harry is involved, his won't either."

Rita nodded reluctantly. In a strange way, she felt there was a debt she owed to Harry as well. It was because of him she went from a run-of-the-mill gossip columnist to a respected journalist.

"I doubt Potter would have told Harry about his business dealings anyway," Cornelius dismissed.

"I don't have a lot to work with here," Rita admitted. "I've looked under every rock. There's just isn't anything to find."

"Well, what have you found so far?" Cornelius asked.

Rita sighed as she looked at Fudge. She hated divulging information before her article was ready to print, but this investigation was especially challenging. Evergreen was a practically a ghost, and Potter's link to it was tenuous at best. The same could be said for his school friends.

"Why is Sirius Black under house arrest?" Rita asked. It was her most promising lead, and her only real hope of moving the investigation forward.

"What?" Cornelius asked, confused by the question. "Black isn't under house arrest."

"Then why hasn't he left his manor since Gloria Potter defeated the Dark Lord?" Rita asked.

Cornelius paused, thinking about the last time he had seen Black. The man had never been very interested in politics, so it was rare to see him in the Wizengamot, or the halls of the Ministry.

"…I'm not sure," Cornelius admitted, realizing it had been a long time.

He went to the fireplace and placed a floo call to Amelia Bones. "Hello Amelia, sorry to bother you on the weekend, but something has just come to my attention, and I need an answer."

"Certainly Minister," Amelia replied.

"Sirius Black, is he under house arrest or confined to his home?" Cornelius asked.

"…Sirius Black?" Amelia asked.

Cornelius watched Amelia carefully. After working with her for so many years, he had picked up on quite a few of her tells, and something was off. He pretended not to notice the hesitation in her voice, or how her eyes widened slightly at the mention of Black.

"Yes," Cornelius replied. "I just realized it's been quite a few years since I last saw him, and before that he was in the paper on at least a monthly basis," he said, referring to the man's playboy lifestyle. "He hasn't left the country, has he?"

"No, not to my knowledge, Minister," Amelia replied without any hesitation this time.

Cornelius could tell Amelia was telling the truth this time, but it was still odd for the normally straight laced woman to be so evasive. "So Black, he's not in any kind of trouble, is he?"

"No Minister. The DMLE have no warrants for his arrest, or any ongoing investigations concerning him," Amelia replied.

"Alright Amelia," Cornelius replied. "But all the same, I would appreciate if your office did a wellness check on him. Please let m know of your findings," he said, ending the call.

"Well, that was interesting," Rita said from her place just outside of Amelia's view.

"Hmm," Cornelius nodded in agreement. "She knows something, possibly Wizengamot business."

"Amelia doesn't neatly fit neatly into the political structure of the Ministry or the Wizengamot," Cornelius continued. "Her brother Edgar died in the last war, survived by his daughter Susan Bones who will take up her father's seat on the Wizengamot when she reaches her magical maturity, but until that time Amelia holds the seat, allowing her to participate in two of the three branches of government.

Rita nodded in agreement. "She was very careful with her words. She only answered in her capacity as the head of the DMLE."

"Imprisonment or confinement is outside the scope of the Wizengamot," Cornelius added. "They can pass judgment, but only the DMLE can enforce it."

"Do you think the Wizengamot is circumventing the law?" Rita asked, curious about Fudge's take. As Minister, he had access to information about the Wizengamot that wasn't publicly available.

"No," Cornelius shook his head. "They're far too clever for that," he said, sitting back down in his chair. "There could be a loophole their exploiting, or some legal gray area they're operating in, but it's a dead end either way. What else have you learned?"

"Potter's school friends had a falling out soon after Gloria defeated the dark lord," Rita answered.

"One of them returned to the muggle world. Finding him now would be next to impossible. The other disappeared without a trace. The DMLE conducted a search for him a few years ago, but couldn't find anything," Rita explained.

"I'll help however I can with your investigation," Cornelius promised. "But be careful. The scope of this has gone well beyond Potter, and considering what's become of his friends, it could get dangerous."

"You know, you're the second person who's told me that," Rita said with a smirk. "I'll tell you what I told them. I can handle myself."

"I think we should involve Harry, though. He might have some more insight into this," she added.

"Doubtful. All this happened when he was just over a year old. I doubt he even knows who his father's friends are, much less have any idea what happened to them," Cornelius replied.

Rita considered approaching Harry on her own for a moment, but quickly dismissed the idea. Fudge was a powerful ally to have, and this was something that would put them at odds. It wasn't worth the risk, at least for the moment.

Andre sat in the library by himself, it was all but deserted on the weekends. It was the perfect place to go when he wanted to be alone.

He was close now, so close to achieving everything he had ever dreamed of. Recognition, respect, reverence. It was all within his grasp. He just had to keep pushing forward.

After the first ritual, he felt so powerful, he could practically feel his magic dancing in his veins, waiting for him to call upon it.

Even battling the Acromantula's had been far easier than it should have been. Sure, they took a few hits, but that had more to do with the number of spiders, rather than any lack of magical power on their part.

In the beginning, he wondered why a ritual like this was kept locked away. Everyone could benefit from this. It was only after they completed it a second time that he understood. He could feel the strain now, a pressure constantly pushing against his chest.

The night of the ritual had been painful. It started the moment he absorbed the Thestral's magic. Thankfully, the pain passed as the night went on, turning into a dull ache, and then finally into what he was feeling now.

He hoped that too, would fade away over the next few days, and the extra time they took before performing the ritual again would mitigate some of the side effects.

He heard through the Hogwarts gossip mill that Harry was gone for the day, more business meetings with his barrister.

He sighed, regretting how things ended with Harry. His reputation and achievements would have added another layer of legitimacy to their cause, allowing them to reach even more people.

He had been careless when he recruited him. Lying about being an only child was a costly mistake. If he approached it another way, things could have worked out differently, but it would have also taken longer, and time was something he didn't have to spare. There was still far too much left to do.

Draco and Hermione were coming along well, though. He knew it was the right call to keep them at arm's length, especially after both Harry and Ron left. There was just too much at stake, things they wouldn't understand if he told them everything now.

He felt bad for them. While they would share in the achievement, they wouldn't be thought of with the same level of respect, or given the same amount of credit as the rest of them.

Andre thought about his father and grandfather, and their old-fashioned ideas about hoarding power and influence. He would be different. He would share what he learned with everyone and be at the forefront of the new golden age of magic.

He glanced down at his hand, feeling a twinge of worry. His fingers were twitching again. He knew it was to be expected, a side effect of the ritual, but it was still disconcerting when it happened.

The others had mentioned similar issues. Lucian had a premature heart beat, and Talbot had mentioned lingering pain in his arms and legs. The others were a mixture of headaches and tiredness, but he was confident that it would all be worth it soon.

Chapter Text

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Draco stood inside the abandoned classroom they had been using for their meetings.

"Are Fred and George coming?" Harry asked.

"No," Ron shook his head. "I didn't tell them."

"Why not?" Hermione asked. They could use all the help they could get if they were going to pull this off.

"I told them what happened in the forest, and what we're planning to do," Ron explained, "and they tried to talk me out of it. They think we should stop before they find out it's us."

Harry nodded. He could understand where the twins were coming from. The study group was dangerous, and involving Fred and George could just draw more attention to them.

"I think they'll change their mind after we find out what they're planning," Ron added, hopefully.

Harry pulled out the vials of polyjuice potions and laid them on the table. "Egwu, Winger, and Murk have been in the study group the longest. They'll know the most about what's going on, but they're also the riskiest to go after."

"Boyle, Haywood, and MacGillony are third years, so their rooms probably won't be as well guarded, but they may not have anything useful."

"If we get caught, and aren't able to find any proof of what they're doing, we could end up expelled, or worse," Harry explained their situation. "So if anyone wants to back out, now is the time."

Hermione looked at the boys as she thought about her options, or lack there off. Withdrawing from Hogwarts wasn't an option. Despite everything that happened, she couldn't just give up on magic, because that is what it would take to get away from the study group.

"I can talk to my father," Draco suggested. "He'll know what to do."

"What's your father going to think about you working with a bunch of Gryffindors?" Ron asked skeptically. "And that's if he even believes you in the first place."

"My father will listen," Draco insisted.

"Let's say he does believe you, Draco," Harry said. "What then? We don't have any proof of what they've done, what they're planning, or who they're working with outside of Hogwarts. If your father tells the wrong person, they'll find out about us."

Draco sighed. He hadn't considered that. The study group may even think he was the one they chased through the forest. "…Fine, we'll keep it amongst ourselves until we find out more."

"Alright," Harry said. "The best time to search their rooms is when the study group is in class, or during one of their meetings."

"We should start with the third years," Ron suggested.

"Hermione and I can search Elspeth's room during History of Magic," Draco suggested. "Everyone either sneaks out or falls asleep during his class anyway, so we won't be missed."

"Then we'll search Beatrice's room during your meeting tonight," Harry said as he handed a vial of potion to both Hermione and Draco. "You'll need a hair from a Ravenclaw student to complete the potion."

"I think I have an idea for that," Hermione offered. "It's a fifth year spell called the disillusionment charm," she said, demonstrating the wand movement. "It lets us blend into the background. If we don't move too much, they won't notice us."

Harry nodded along, thinking about the spell Merlin and Morgan used to escape the castle. 'The spell has a similar end result, but far less powerful.'

"Yes, but also far less taxing magically," Merlin pointed out. "None of them have the magical power to maintain the spell for more than a few minutes at a time."

"That could work," Draco agreed. "One of us could get the hair while the other distracts them."

"Good luck," Harry said. "And be careful. If it doesn't feel right walk away."

Hermione and Draco left first, making their way to the great hall, hoping to find some Ravenclaws along the way.

"Over there," Draco said. "I think I recognize him, Davies. He's on the quidditch team."

Hermione looked down the hallway. Davies was walking by himself. It was perfect.

"Alright, cast the charm on me, and I'll run over and get it," Draco said.

Hermione nodded, pulling out her wand, and cast the spell, or at least tried to.

"Did it work?" Draco asked, looking himself up and down. "I don't feel anything."

Hermione shook her head, trying the spell again, but nothing happened. "I don't understand. It worked when I tried it a couple of weeks ago," she said, looking at her wand in a mixture of confusion and embarrassment.

Draco glanced down the hallway. They couldn't lose this opportunity. He pulled out his wand and tried the spell. It took a couple of attempts, but then he felt it. It was like someone cracked an egg over his head.

"Did it work?" Draco asked, looking at Hermione for confirmation.

Hermione nodded. "When you get a hair, move to the side before he turns around, then don't move."

"Ok," Draco said as he crept after Davies, trying not to make a sound.

Hermione watched him go, noticing the shimmer around him as he moved. She sat down on a bench and pulled out a textbook, pretending to read it as she watched Draco sneak up on Davies. She couldn't understand where she had gone wrong. The spell had been difficult, but she had managed it before.

Harry's words echoed in her mind as she thought about her recent spell work. She wasn't earning as many points as she used to for her practical work. Even simple spells required more effort than they did before.

She worried Harry might be right, and there was something wrong with her magic.

Draco moved in, just behind Davies, and carefully reached out, pinching one of Davies's hairs between his fingers, then pulled sharply and stepped to the side.

Davies whirled around with a yelp as he rubbed the back of his head. It felt like someone hit the back of his head. 'That's strange,' he thought. There was just a first year, reading a book, but she was too far away to have done anything.

He shrugged and turned around, making his way to the library to return his book.

Draco stood there waiting for Davies to turn the corner before he canceled the disillusionment charm.

"What happened Hermione? I thought you knew how to cast that spell," Draco demanded.

Hermione's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I'm not sure. It worked when I tried it in my dorm room a few weeks ago."

"Alright, whatever," Draco dismissed, shaking his head. "We still need one more hair," he said, putting the hair he acquired in his pocket.

Hermione and Draco walked down the hallway in the same direction as Davies, hoping to run into another Ravenclaw.

"The library, of course," Hermione said as they turned the corner. "There should be at least a couple of Ravenclaws there."

They walked into the library, going through the rows, when Hermione spotted someone she recognized. She was sitting at a table by herself, studying. "That's Patricia Stimpson. I see her in the library all the time," she whispered.

"Ok," Draco said, looking around to make sure no one was looking their way. "Go ask her something. I'll grab a hair while she's distracted."

Hermione nodded. She went to a bookshelf and pulled out a transfiguration book and walked up to Stimpson.

"Excuse me," Hermione said, getting the older student's attention. "I'm Hermione Granger."

Patricia looked up from her book to find a first year standing over her. "Hello," she replied, wondering why this girl was bothering her.

"I was wondering if you could help me?" Hermione asked. "I have a transfiguration essay due in a couple of days about-"

"Look… Granger," Patricia interrupted. "I don't really have time for this. I have a test to study for after lunch," she said, shooing the annoying first year away, but when she returned to her book, she felt a pinch on the back of her head.

"It will only take a second… please," Hermione said. "The essay is about the dangers of human to transfiguration."

Patrica sighed in annoyance, rubbing the back of her head. She wasn't a prefect. Why was this girl bothering her with this stuff?

"Ask one of your prefects, that's what they're there for," Patricia said impatiently.

"…Sorry to bother you," Hermione said, trying to her best to look crestfallen as she walked away.

Patrica watched the first year walk off. 'Great, now I fee bad,' she thought. "Wait… Granger."

Hermione turned around, not expecting anything else from Stimpson.

"You're a first year, right?" Patricia asked.

Hermione nodded.

"Then you just need your transfiguration textbook. There's an entire section in there about what can go wrong, more than enough for you to write your essay with."

"Thank you," Hermione said, genuinely surprised Stimpson was willing to help her. "I'll do that." She had seen her in the library before, and she was short with everyone that disturbed her.

Hermione returned the book to its shelf and went to meet Draco outside the library.

"Let's go," Draco said, holding up the hair. "We can make an appearance in History of Magic, then sneak out."

Hermione and Draco stood outside the Ravenclaw common room after taking the polyjuice potions, now disguised as Patricia Stimpson, and Roger Davies.

They prepared themselves mentally for what they were about to do. No one had ever broken in to the common room of a rival house to their knowledge. When they stepped inside, there would break one of Hogwarts most important rules.

Hermione and Draco looked at each other and nodded. They took a step forward and waited for the eagle knocker to ask its riddle. This was the part they couldn't prepared for, and where the entire plan could fall apart.

"Which came first? The phoenix or the flame?" The eagle head knocker asked.

Draco stared at the knocker in confusion, having no idea what it was talking about.

Hermione furrowed her brow, thinking through the riddle. She knew there had to be a trick to it. The obvious answer was the flame. It had to have come first, right? But no one knew how long phoenix's had been around either.

A phoenix was born in fire, and when it died, it was consumed by it, only to be reborn again in an endless cycle.

"That's it!" Hermione said, her eyes lighting up as she solved it. "It a cycle, there is no beginning!" A moment later, there was a soft click, and the door swung open.

Hermione and Draco quickly made their way inside, relieved to find the common room empty, making it much easier for them to avoid detection.

"That must be where the dorm rooms are," Draco said, pointing to a set of stairs.

Hermione and Draco made their way up the stairs, entering the third year girl's dormitory. There were three four-poster beds and a trunk at the foot of each bed.

"Which trunk is Elspeth's?" Hermione thought as she looked around.

Draco went to each nightstand, looking for something of Elspeth's. "This one," he said, picking up a test left out on her nightstand. "I'll check the dresser. You try her trunk."

"Right," Hermione nodded, as she went to the trunk, hoping her spell would work, "Alohomora." She could feel the pull on her magic, and with a soft click, the trunk opened.

She rummaged through the trunk, looking for anything useful. There were a few books, some school supplies, but nothing out of the ordinary. "There's nothing here, any luck over there."

"No," Draco shook his head. "There's nothing here either."

"There has to be something," Hermione insisted, refusing to believe they did this all for nothing.

"Not over here there's not," Draco replied.

Hermione looked around the dorm room, trying to think where Elspeth would hide something, her eyes finally settling on the bed itself. Following a hunch, she lifted up the mattress. "I've got something," she said, pulling out a leather pouch.

"Great," Draco said as they opened it, and looking inside, but couldn't hide his disappointment at what they found. "All this effort, just to find Elspeth's pocket money?"

Hermione felt just as disappointed. It looked to be little more than twenty galleons. "Should we try Talbott's dorm? Maybe there's something there?"

"This whole thing was a waste of-" Draco started to say, before both he and Hermione froze. They heard voices coming from the common room and recognized one of them immediately. Elspeth.

'She's not supposed to be here,' Hermione thought frantically. 'She was supposed to be in class.' "We have to go," she whispered, putting the pouch back under the bed.

Draco nodded in agreement. Hermione was disguised as Stimpson, who at least had a reason to be here, but not him. Davies was a fourth year, and also a boy.

They quickly made their way to the stairs, hoping to leave before Elspeth found them, but it was too late. They could already hear her coming up the stairs.

"Split up," Draco whispered as he went up the stairs, going into the fourth year boy's dorm while Hermione went back into the third year girl's dorm. She looked around frantically, trying to find a place to hide, but couldn't find one. With no other options left, she went to Patrica's bed and lay down.

A moment later, the door opened and Elspeth walked in. "Oh, Patricia, I didn't expect to see you here. Don't you have a class now?"

Hermione looked up from the bed, doing her best to sound sick. "I came to lie down. I'm just not feeling well."

"Maybe you should visit Madam Pomfrey," Elspeth suggested. "I can go with you if you like."

"No!" Hermione said abruptly. "I… I think I just stayed up too late studying last night. I should be fine."

"Oh, ok. I hope you feel better," Elspeth said, going to her dresser, and digging around. "Can you believe it? I broke my last quill, and no one had a spare they could lend me."

"…Yes, that's annoying," Hermione replied.

"Ok, see you later, Patrica," Elspeth waved as she went back downstairs.

Draco cracked the door open as he watched Elspeth leave, breathing a sigh of relief.

He could hear Elspeth talking to someone, but couldn't tell who it was. He carefully walked down the stairs, peeking out from behind the door.

Thankfully, it wasn't Talbott, just a fifth year Ravenclaw reading a book. 'Probably has a free period,' Draco thought.

"See you later, Penelope," Elspeth waved as she returned to her class.

That's when Draco realized they had another problem. There was no way to leave without Penelope seeing them, and the longer they stayed, the more likely they were to run into the real Stimpson and Davies, or for the polyjuice potion to run out.

He was so lost in thought that he nearly jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned quickly to find Hermione standing behind him.

"Sorry," Hermione whispered as she stared over his shoulder at Penelope.

"It doesn't look like she's going to leave anytime soon," Draco whispered.

"Can you cast the disillusionment charm on both of us?" Hermione asked. "If we go slowly, she might not notice us."

Draco nodded, muttering the spell for both of them before they crept towards the door to the common room.

They only made it halfway before the common room door opened again and Elspeth appeared. They froze like a pair of deer in the headlights as they watched Elspeth getting closer and closer.

Elspeth walked past, only missing Draco's shoulder by a couple of inches as she went back up the stairs.

Hermione and Draco were out of time and they both knew it. Throwing caution to the wind, they made a beeline to the common room door, slipping out before the door closed.

Draco looked around before canceling the charm and breathing a sigh if relief. "That was way too close."

"She's going to realize something is wrong," Hermione whispered.

"Yeah," Draco nodded in agreement. The mission had been a bust, and even worse, they may have tipped off the study group.

"So there was nothing there?" Harry asked.

"No," Hermione shook her head sadly.

"We might still get lucky," Ron said hopefully. "Elspeth will think its strange Patricia wasn't there, but she may not connect it back to us."

"Not likely," Draco said, shaking his head. "She came back less than five minutes later. She would have noticed, and it's only a matter of time before she talks to Stimpson about it."

Hermione could feel Harry's eyes on her. She knew what he was thinking. She couldn't do the charm, and it was getting harder and harder for her to deny the truth. Something was wrong, and she needed to get it checked out before it got worse.

"Do we stop here? Or do we go ahead with searching Beatrice's dorm?" Ron asked.

"We need to go ahead with it," Harry said. "After tonight, they'll know something is wrong. We have to search her room before they add any more protections."

"Let's go," Draco said to Hermione. "The meeting will start soon." Hermione nodded, walking out with Draco.

"I was able to get us a couple of hairs," Harry said, handing a vial to Ron. "Yours is Jake Flinton, and mine is David Boorman."

"Classes are over for the day. What if they're already in the common room?" Ron asked.

"We got lucky there," Harry replied. "They're both studying for a test in the library. They won't be back until just before curfew."

"Ok, let's go," Ron said, taking the vial. They had a little over an hour before curfew.

They quickly made their way towards the Hogwarts kitchens, and the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room.

Just as they passed the entrance to the great hall, a voice stopped them dead in their tracks. "Mr. Potter, I was hoping to run into you," Albus said as he appeared from down the corridor. "Can you spare me a few minutes?"

Harry turned to face the headmaster. They were running out of time before the study group finished their meeting, and Jame and David returned from the library, but he couldn't exactly say no to the Headmaster either.

"I'll talk to you later, Ron," Harry said, giving his friend a reason to leave. "What is it, sir?" he asked.

"I just wanted to see if your barrister was able to resolve Tom's rent problem," Albus asked.

"No yet," Harry replied, wondering what the Headmaster's angle was. "He said it's taking longer that expected, but he should have it resolved soon."

"…I see," Albus replied. He had waited long enough for Tonks to spin his wheels. It was time to go in for the kill. "As I remember, you brought this to his attention weeks ago. Did he tell you why it was taking so long to resolve?"

"He's just putting together an offer now," Harry replied, hoping to end this conversation quickly.

Albus sighed, making a show of looking worried. "I spoke to Tom recently. He's gone through most of his savings to make the higher rent payments. I don't think there's much time left before he run's out of galleons."

"I've taken over the rent payments for Tom until we get this resolved," Harry replied, keeping his tone even. "So there's no reason to worry."

"Even so, this has taken far longer than it should to clear up. I'll reach out to my contacts as well, and see if I can get this cleared up a little quicker," Albus replied.

Harry was immediately suspicious, wondering what Dumbledore was up to. "And what would you get out of helping Tom?"

"Tom has been a good friend to me for many, many years," Albus replied, feigning disappointment. "That's the only reason."

Harry wasn't sure what to do. He didn't really have a way to stop the headmaster, and Ted wasn't having much luck tracking down the owner on his own. Maybe on this one occasion, their interests really were aligned.

"I know what you must think of me, Mr. Potter. I certainly haven't done anything to earn your trust, but I'm not the monster you think I am," Albus said as he turned and left.

He smiled internally. He saw it in Harry's eyes. His resolve weakened just a little bit. After he 'resolved' the issue for Tom, he would have the foothold he needed to repair his relationship with the boy.

Harry watched him leave, making sure he was gone, before he turned on his heel and made a beeline for the stairs leading to the cellar.

"What took so long?" Ron asked as he stepped out from behind a stack of barrels.

"The headmaster was asking me about something my barrister is working on," Harry replied, wanting to keep Ron from getting dragged into his issues with the Headmaster as well. "Are you ready?"

Ron nodded, pulling out his vial. They both pulled the corks and drank their potions.

Hermione and Draco sat amongst the study group. Normally they studied together, since they were in the same year, but this time it was different. When they arrived, Andre asked Hermione to work with Beatrice, while Draco worked with Bole.

"How are you doing, Hermione?" Beatrice asked.

"Fine," Hermione replied, trying not to let her nervousness show. "Why?"

"Well, I just wanted to talk to you about your ranking. I noticed you were falling a little behind," she said, referring to the recent drop in the number of points she was earning. "I just wanted to make sure everything was ok."

Hermione looked at Beatrice for a second, seeing for the first time how easily the other girl have manipulated her. She seemed so genuine, it was sometimes hard to believe this was the same girl that killed the Acromantula in the astronomy tower, and hunted her through the forbidden forest.

"…I'm fine. I've just been doing morning exercises with Harry for the last few days, and feeling a little tired. I just need to get used to it," Hermione replied.

"Right, Elspeth mention that," Beatrice said. "How has that been going? Are you noticing any differences in your spell casting?"

"No, nothing yet," Hermione replied. "But it's only been a few days."

"It's an interesting theory," Elspeth offered, looking up from her book.

"You know, Hermione, there are ways to improve a little quicker," Andre offered. "You might also benefit from this Draco. How much do either of you know about rituals?"