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Chapter Text

He felt numb. The hand on his chest didn’t even feel like it was there, and the same could be said about the flashes of tens of cameras as he lay there, head in the lap of his headmaster who looked straight ahead with a concerned frown.

It was his fault. Everything was his fault. Loyal Ron. Genius Hermione. Fiery Ginny. Brave Neville. Sincere Luna. And him.

His eyes closed as tears leaked out, and he could do nothing to stop them.

Just what had he been thinking!? What had they been thinking!? Nothing, that’s what! How could he even imagine that six children who had taken their OWLs barely a few hours ago could take on some of the most dangerous criminals their world had to offer!?

It was his fault that they had died. Everything was his fault.

Harry had cried his heart out when it had happened. He remembered the sight of life leaving their eyes as they slumped against their captors who held them at wand point inside that accursed room. Helpless, he had only sat on his knees as the battle ensued in front of him, his eyes unseeing, his limbs frozen.

Guilt raged through his very being at the realization that he had led to the deaths of his best friends. That guilt induced rage through every fiber of his being, and Harry went berserk. Every vicious spell he had ever heard of left his wand, even though he had never cast any of them before. The Death Eaters and members of the Order alike stared in abject horror as Harry delivered righteous judgment upon the scum of the society.

Not that it was enough to prevent the death of the man he had considered the closest thing to a father.

In his rage-induced haze, he had lost all sense of his surroundings, and that had been the undoing.

The face of Sirius, as he stared back at him serenely before it vanished beyond that veil, forced a gut-wrenching cry from his parched throat, and his rage intensified. Harry tore through the ministry atrium, uncaring of the numerous cries behind him and a malevolent killing curse struck Bellatrix right on her back. The maniacal witch went limp, and barely a few seconds later, so did Harry.

When he came back to his senses, it was to the sight of a menacing pair of crimson eyes staring at him in abject shock.

-Break-

Albus Dumbledore stared at the broken boy in front of him with profound sadness. He had just finished telling Harry everything that had transpired in the ministry after he had killed Bellatrix.

Dumbledore sighed to himself at the realization that Harry had killed seven members of Tom’s inner circle. Ashen was the word he would use to describe the expression on the boy's face.

The boy didn’t react when he told him that the reason he had passed out after killing Bellatrix was that Tom had hit him with another killing curse. He didn’t even flinch when he told him about the prophecy. There was no reaction at all, and that concerned Dumbledore more than he was willing to admit. Rage was an emotion that let one vent everything out, and what followed was calmness and a sense of peace. Apathy did not help anyone, and that concerned him, for Harry looked more apathetic than anyone he had ever seen. Not even Gellert had looked like this when he had lost to him.

Dumbledore could understand everything Harry was feeling. The weight of the guilt that Harry must be feeling and the knowledge that he killed so many individuals were things he would not wish on anyone, and he wondered how much Harry could take. He hoped, for the sake of himself and everyone else who had any semblance of hope from him that Harry would not let this burden destroy him.

“Harry?” Dumbledore probed gently. The boy looked up, and Albus flinched. For those emeralds were glowing with life no more. Instead, Harry looked completely hollow. They said eyes were the mirror of the soul. Never had those words been truer.

Harry’s rage, his guilt, and his scorn had cooled down, and what remained was nothingness. He could feel it simmering beneath the surface, but he found that he had firm control over his emotions for the first time. Looking at Dumbledore, he stood up.

“I would like to go to bed, headmaster. A lot has happened tonight and I would prefer to be alone so I can process everything.”

Dumbledore frowned but did not make a move to stop the boy who had already turned around and was walking away. The sound of his office door getting shut prompted a sigh from the aged headmaster who looked at his faithful familiar and stroked its feathers softly.

“I fear what happened tonight has changed him forever, Fawkes,” he whispered. The phoenix trilled a mournful tone and Dumbledore sighed again.

-Break-

Harry’s feet carried him across the seventh floor to the Room of Requirement. This late at night, he had no intention of going to the Gryffindor Tower. He didn’t think he would be able to see the empty beds of Ron and Neville, not with these wounds still so raw.

The door materialized in front of him, and Harry entered quickly. It was a simple room with a bed and nothing else. He quickly undressed and got under the covers, unseeing eyes staring blankly at the ceiling where stars twinkled in the clear, dark sky.

Numbly, he remembered all the moments he had spent with his friends and his godfather. The time he had first met Ron and Hermione, their adventures together, Neville confronting them in the first year. Ginny’s reaction to seeing him in the burrow and what transpired during the year. The time travel to save Sirius. The feeling of happiness when Sirius asked him to live with him. The not-so-pleasant fourth year when he had his first falling out with his friends, and how Ginny and Neville had filled that void. Their reunion when they had sorted their issues out. The time he had spent with his godfather in Grimmauld Place and the challenges he had tackled with all five of his friends during the year. How Luna, who he had met this year, had quickly become such an integral part of their small group.

The floodgates opened, and Harry didn’t even try to stop them.

“I’m sorry,” he managed between cries, clutching his face harshly as another sob escaped his lips. “I’m so sorry! You died because of me! I’m so sorry!”

Harry kept apologizing profusely, crying his heart out until he could do nothing but lay on the bed, silent tears trickling down his face and onto the pillow under his head.

It was only when the ceiling above transformed into the early morning sky that Harry blinked his eyes open and looked around. The events of the evening prior crashed through his mind and Harry had to stifle a gasp. Wide-eyed, he looked around before burying his head in his hands.

Two hours later, he emerged from the Room of Requirement. He had eaten inside, having no intention of seeing anyone, and under his Invisibility Cloak, he made his way over to Gryffindor Tower. The train would be leaving in a few hours, and he wanted to get his belongings before everyone came back from breakfast.

The door to the common room swung open and Harry entered before he quickly trekked upstairs and burst into his dormitory. Pointedly ignoring Ron and Neville’s beds, he flicked his wand and watched as all his belongings packed themselves inside his trunk. Shrinking it, he pocketed it before turning around.

Instantly, he came face to face with the headmaster, who looked knowingly at where he was standing. Sighing, Harry took the cloak off and looked at the old wizard expectantly.

“A few people want to see you,” Dumbledore intoned softly, a frown on his face. Harry looked down.

“I do not feel like seeing anyone, headmaster,” Harry whispered. Dumbledore sighed.

“They are in the common room waiting for you. I have made sure no student comes. Please, Harry,” the headmaster insisted. Harry looked at him with a frown as he turned around to walk away. Sighing, he walked behind the headmaster.

He froze at the spot when he entered the common room and saw who it was. Professor McGonagall was standing to the side with all the other heads of house and Dumbledore. However, it was the other group of witches and wizards who he was shocked to see.

A tear escaped his eye as he looked down, unable to meet their eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

A choked sob made him look up, and Harry had barely a moment to react before he was engulfed by a pair of strong arms that had hugged him so many times over the years.

“Hush dear, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Mrs. Weasley said through tears as she pulled back and wiped his face. Harry looked down.

“I rushed in without thinking, and that got them… It’s all my fault,” he whispered miserably. He felt a firm hand clasp his shoulder and looked up to see Mr. Weasley looking at him firmly.

“Never believe that it’s your fault. You did not make them do it, Harry. It was their decision. Rushing in without thinking was your mistake, there is no doubt about that. But what happened to my children and the others is no fault of yours.”

Harry stared at the ground morosely as they moved back, but not before hugging him warmly. Harry felt so undeserving of this.

“My Neville was always a scared little boy, Mr. Potter,” an old witch dressed in traditional robes began as she walked over, and Harry looked into her eyes. It seemed she had lost all the will to live and was waiting for death to take her into its embrace. “I always wanted him to grow up strong, as strong and capable as my Frank was.”

Harry stared at her, wondering where this was going. Madam Longbottom sighed.

“I know it makes me sound heartless, but I feel proud to say that my Neville died in battle like a true warrior. I will mourn him, Mr. Potter, but more than that, I will revere the brave man my little Neville became. He told me how you had been helping him slowly come out of his shell, and how much he respects you. For that, you have my gratitude. Please do not let his sacrifice go to waste, Mr. Potter.”

Harry stared at the woman with wide eyes as she walked away without a second glance. His eyes raked over the remaining people assembled. Each of his professors gave him looks of encouragement, and even Snape was giving him a look devoid of any disdain.

A small clap sounded from the side, and they turned around. A wizard clad in dark robes stood there. His face was covered and no one could make out who he truly was.

“Enough of this sentimental crap,” the wizard hissed softly and lowered his hood. Harry heard several gasps around the common room. Confused, he stared at the old man. He looked as old as McGonagall with white hair that came to his shoulders in curls and a thick white goatee. With high cheekbones and grey eyes, the man looked the epitome of the patriarch of a pureblood house.

“I am Lord Arcturus Black, the grandfather of your godfather and the brother of your grandmother, and I believe our meeting is long overdue, Harry Potter.”

Shocked, Harry stared into those steel-grey eyes that were looking at him penetratingly.

“Perhaps we should take this discussion to a more private setting?” Dumbledore suggested hesitatingly. Arcturus glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes and gave a curt nod.

As per the headmaster’s instruction, everyone filed out of the common room. Mrs. Weasley hugged him again, reminding him to remember that nothing was his fault. However, instead of helping, it made him feel worse instead.

The common room was empty apart from three wizards who stood in the middle before Arcturus looked around.

“I much prefer the calmness of the dungeons. Too bright for my tastes,” he clicked his tongue and conjured an ornate chair before sitting down. Harry saw Dumbledore do the same and take a seat. However, he remained standing.

“Let me be blunt here, boy,” Arcturus began without missing a beat. “You fucked up. You are not capable enough. You are a hothead. And that hotheadedness got your friends and my grandson killed. Those people might say flowery words of comfort, but both of us know their words are worth nothing.”

Harry listened to the man in silence as Dumbledore frowned.

“Is this necessary, Arcturus?”

“I would appreciate it if you spoke the truth for once, Albus. Or at least didn’t try to stop the others. Merlin knows everyone’s had enough of your honeyed words,” Arcturus replied with a sneer, before turning to look at Harry once again.

“You feel guilt, don’t you, boy?” he asked firmly.

Harry stayed silent.

“Yes, you don’t need to answer. Your eyes scream it. So much guilt, so much blame. And what’s to come out of it?”

A tense silence followed Arcturus’ question, which he broke himself.

“Let me tell you something, boy. You have two choices in front of you right now,” the old wizard said as he leaned back, and Harry looked up at him. Arcturus pursed his lips.

“You can either let this guilt consume you, slowly killing you from inside until you die a pathetic death,” the man sneered. “Or you can use it as fuel to your rage and bring retribution to this asshole who has torn this country apart. Your choice.”

Harry looked down and immediately felt a stinging sensation on his cheek. Shocked, he looked up. He didn’t even notice when the wizard had closed the distance between them. Holding his reddening cheek, he stared at the man.

“Not a word, Dumbledore. This little shit needs to hear this,” Arcturus warned, holding his palm up to the side before turning back towards him.

“Look at you. You are a son of the House of Potter? A house that has produced warriors after warriors? Bah! What I see in front of myself is a rooster who can’t even crow,” Arcturus spat to the side, before he grabbed his cheeks roughly.

“I wouldn’t have given a shit about you if not for our relationship, Potter. I loved my Dorea and I respected your grandfather Charlus more than words can describe, and it is only because of those reasons why I even bothered to show up today. I don’t care if you’ve grown up abused or faced hardship after hardship. I don’t give a fuck that you’ve made mistakes that led to your friends’ deaths. What I give a shit about is you besmirching the good name of my sister’s house. I will not allow it,” Arcturus hissed. “Stand up like a man and take responsibility for your mistakes, instead of bitching about how everything is your fault. Yes, you fucked up. Now own it.”

The man released his hold roughly and Harry staggered back, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Do it for your ancestors if not for yourself, Potter, for you’ll have to answer to them when you kick the bucket. And I can promise you, not all of them would be too happy to see your sorry face.”

Without a word, the man marched out of the common room, leaving a shell-shocked Harry Potter and a troubled Albus Dumbledore in his wake.

-Break-

Harry spent the train ride alone. He made his way to the station under his invisibility cloak and got a compartment at the front of the train which was used by first-year students when they arrived at Hogwarts. It was a guaranteed way to ensure that he would remain undisturbed and out of the eyes of everyone.

Arcturus’ words ran amok in his mind. The absolute scorn in the man’s voice was enough to make someone flinch, but Harry recalled and replayed everything with absolute clarity.

The more he thought about it, the more he began to feel disgusted with himself. The man’s words were brutally honest. He knew that. He had already accepted that he was the reason why his friends had died. Sure, they had decided to follow him. However, it was his fault in the first place which made them decide. Had he used his brain for once and not jumped in like an idiot, they wouldn’t have even needed to make a choice.

However, louder than the feeling of guilt was the feeling of self-loathing Harry felt towards himself, for Arcturus was right once again. He was besmirching the name of his ancestors.

Instead of acting like a man and owning up to his mistakes, he was busy wallowing in self-pity and acting like a little bitch.

Harry gritted his teeth and glared at his lap. Yes, he fucked up. What use was there in thinking about it? His friends won’t come back. Sirius won’t come back. What he needed now was to do what Arcturus said. He refused to drown himself in this trench of self-pity. He refused to let Voldemort win. He would take his life back, and he would avenge his friends. Voldemort and his followers had taken everything from him. Now he would take everything from them.

The train ride passed relatively quickly, and he saw the countryside giving way to the cityscape of London as the Hogwarts Express neared the King’s Cross station. Once the train stopped, Harry donned his cloak and stepped out of the compartment. He quickly passed through the entrance, and immediately found the Dursleys.

He had already decided he won’t go back, no matter how much anyone wanted him to. Pulling out the note he had written on the train, Harry walked over and quickly pushed it inside Vernon’s pocket.

The man swirled around in surprise, looking for whoever had touched him before feeling his pocket. His eyes widened when he felt the note and he quickly pulled it out.

“Good for nothing freak,” he muttered to himself as he threw the parchment in the bin and walked away.

-Break-

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable,” a sharp voice made Harry turn around and he was disarmed in an instant.

“And now you’re dead,” the man said, holding his wand up before throwing it to the floor where it clattered and rolled over.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked, frowning as he picked his wand up.

“What? No greetings for your well-wisher?” The man smirked.

“Some well-wisher you are,” he muttered as he walked over to the bed and sat down.

“I’m not? Pray tell me then, who arranged this cozy little place with all the privacy, wards, and protections you could ask for? Who gave you those obscure tomes which you’ve been reading every waking hour for the past month? And who made sure you were given adequate potions to fix everything that was wrong with your body?”

Harry sighed.

“What do you want?”

Arcturus Black conjured an ornate chair and sat down, looking at Harry in silence.

“I have come to get you your new wand.”

“I already told you I don’t want a new wand!” Harry retorted firmly. Arcturus frowned.

“How are you going to practice those spells you’ve learned then? Bloody hell, you haven’t cast them once. All you can do now is read on and on. Let me tell you something, Potter. Without practical, theory is meaningless.”

Harry gritted his teeth. “My wand will work soon.”

“Your wand will never work for you, boy!” Arcturus thundered as he glared at him, who looked up defiantly. “Your magic has changed. Have you felt anything from that wand since that night? No, you haven’t. And that is because it doesn’t recognise your magic. Your best bet is to get a new wand that is compatible with your magic or give up on ever avenging anyone.”

Harry looked down with a sigh. He had faith that his wand will work soon, but that faith was dwindling fast. The wand felt dead to him. Even unsuited wands showed a reaction.

“Why are you doing so much for me? It can’t be only because of my grandparents.”

Arcturus looked at him keenly before standing up.

“Finish the tasks I’ve lined up for you and I will tell you. Now get ready and wear a hood. We’ll be going to Knockturn.”

Fifteen minutes later, they apparated inside Knockturn Alley and Harry quickly followed behind Arcturus. It had been four weeks since he had been living in one of the properties the Blacks owned. It was under a massive number of wards that made tracking and unsolicited arrival impossible. Say what one may, but the Blacks were highly accomplished warders.

The bell chimed as they entered, and Harry looked at the old woman behind the counter.

“This is Martha. She will be crafting your wand. Go on,” Arcturus instructed. Harry frowned but followed the woman through the door to the side.

“I shall come back in one minute. Gather whatever you feel your magic responding to.”

Harry frowned as the woman left before he started to wander. His magic reacted to several items, but he grabbed the ones which he felt the strongest response to.

Martha arrived precisely a minute later and took the ingredients from him.

“Go outside and wait for ten minutes. It shall be done.”

Harry nodded and joined Arcturus who was looking through a bookshelf.

“Grab those books and take them to the counter. You shall be reading through them as well.”

Sighing, Harry walked over and carried them over to the counter.

Ten minutes later, twelve more books joined the small stack and they saw Martha come out with a small box in her hands. She placed it on the counter and opened it. Harry looked at the sleek black wand in interest and took it from her.

A rush of warmth went through him as he stared at the wand in wonder.

“Your old wand?” Arcturus held his hand out, and Harry took the wand out of his pocket with a frown. The old man took it from him and to his shock, snapped it in half.

“You do not need a reminder of your past that would hold you back. Look forward. The future calls.”

Harry could only stare at the man in shock as he paid for everything, shrunk the books back, and apparated them back to his place of stay.

“I will return in a month, and I want you done with all the tomes. Then we will start on your spell practice. Your Occlumency has improved very much since your fuck up, but I want you to keep working on it. Once I deem you capable enough, I will reveal my plan. Until then, goodbye.”

Harry stared at the vacant spot in surprise as he dropped onto the bed, before looking at his new wand.

-Break-

One month had passed since Harry disappeared, and Dumbledore was at a loss. The trinkets that monitored Harry’s health showed that he was perfectly fine, however, they could not pinpoint where he was. Already, the members of the Order were heavily searching for the young man everywhere. However, he was nowhere to be found. Even Fawkes could not locate Harry, much to his disappointment.

Dumbledore had a suspicion as to who might be behind Harry’s sudden disappearance. After all, Arcturus Black had come out of his self-imposed exile after almost two decades for him. He had a strong feeling that the Black patriarch was behind the disappearance of the Potter heir.

He felt the wards at the door respond, and his eyes widened when he discovered who he was. The door opened and in walked Arcturus Black without a care in the world as he sat down. Dumbledore looked at the man with a frown.

“Let me get rid of all the trivial answers,” Arcturus started. “Yes, Harry Potter is with me. No, you cannot know where he is.”

Dumbledore sighed. “Harry is a very important…”

“He is a very important piece on this chessboard you have created and he is the only one who can defeat Voldemort. Did I miss anything?” Arcturus asked in return. Dumbledore frowned.

“Listen closely, Dumbledore. I never act like I am a good person, so naturally I expect the same honesty from you. Let us cut the pretentious crap out. You want that boy for your plans, and I have that boy for mine. The only similarity is that both our plans result in the same outcome – getting rid of that deceitful little shit who calls himself Voldemort.”

“What do you want, Arcturus? Why Harry?” Dumbledore asked, frowning. Arcturus glared.

“I do not owe you any answers, Dumbledore. Consider it my benevolence that I even told you that Harry is with me. Do not interfere with my plans and you will be better off.”

Dumbledore gave the man a small glare which did nothing to faze him.

“That boy has improved more in these few weeks than he has in years under your tutelage. You sure wasted his potential,” Arcturus’ eyes hardened. “Or perhaps you never intended to nurture him.”

Dumbledore stayed silent.

“You were counting on him dying, weren’t you? Afterall, the Horcrux would be destroyed only if the boy died,” Arcturus smirked at the widening of Dumbledore’s eyes.

“What? You thought you were the only one who knew the truth of Voldemort’s so-called immortality? You consider yourself so above everyone, Dumbledore,” Arcturus said disdainfully as he stared at the wizard in front of him. “You don’t need to worry. With that Horcrux gone, the boy will become a true Potter – one who will bring about the end of this so-called dark lord.”

Dumbledore stared at Arcturus as he turned around to walk away.

“Naturally I shall be telling him the truth. He can make his own decisions. However, forget that he will remain a little soldier you had been raising all these years. I’ll be damned if I ever let that happen,” Arcturus snarled before he walked out.

Dumbledore could only stare at the closed door in shock, still reeling from the fact that Voldemort’s means of immortality was no longer a secret.

-Break-

Three months had passed since Arcturus visited Dumbledore and he had spent the past two on Harry, drilling him through the paces. The boy was a very capable wizard and had power in abundance, easily more than he and Charlus possessed. However, he was also hotheaded and didn’t think things through.

However, Arcturus believed he had managed to help the boy tone it down considerably in the past few months.

Currently, he watched the boy as he worked in the enchanted room that helped his physique and stamina. The boy could have been a Hufflepuff given how hardworking he truly was. 

Arcturus was happy that he had managed to get through the boy’s head. Once the boy had accepted everything, he learned to use it as motivation to overcome whatever challenges he threw at him.

The new Hogwarts year had begun. However, the boy had no desire to go back, not after what had transpired a few months ago. Instead, he studied on his own, he practiced spells well beyond what they taught at Hogwarts on his own and he worked on the mind arts on his own.

However, the last two months had been particularly taxing for both him and the boy. For one, he had acquired enchanted training dummies that aurors and hit-wizards used so that the boy could practice his battling against one or multiple opponents. Once the boy had become capable to hold his own and beat multiple opponents, Arcturus joined the fray.

He and Charlus had been the best wands in the war against Grindelwald, and age had not dulled his skills much. Even Dumbledore would’ve been hard-pressed against either of the pair back in the day, and he believed the boy would improve massively after some personal training from him as well.

That had been two months ago, and Arcturus was very much satisfied with the results.

The war outside had intensified considerably. With stealth no longer on his side and having lost so many of his strong followers, Voldemort had hastened to deal a blow to the morale of the populace. The murder of Amelia Bones, the interim minister had made headlines, and he knew the boy wanted to go out and prove his well-earned abilities on the battlefield. However, Arcturus had stopped him. The boy would fight, but not now.

It was evident that his self-control had improved massively when he had not argued to jump into the fray and had listened to him instead. A lot of it could be attributed to his harsh words, but his rough training methods also proved fruitful.

Potter was a very capable wizard, and Arcturus was sure he was among some of the most dangerous wizards alive, with immense potential. The boy would only improve from now on, of that he had no doubt.

Only he won’t be there to see it.

-Break-

“Sit down,” Arcturus instructed, and Harry took his seat in front of him. Arcturus looked at the young man in front of him and smirked.

“Now you look like a son of the House of Potter,” he commented.

Harry shook his head. 

“You wanted to talk about something?”

Arcturus nodded.

“I haven’t been entirely truthful with you,” he began. “The reason why I finally revealed myself after all these years and approached you is because I have a plan. A very ambitious plan that could decide the fate of our world as we know it. And it hinges entirely on you.”

Harry frowned. “What is this plan?”

Instead of replying, Arcturus slid a scroll forward. “Open it.”

Harry picked it up and pulled the knot open, flattening the scroll on the table and looking at it.

“A photograph?”

“That is the photograph of the entire Black family before the war began. Compare the number of people with who are alive today. Do you notice something?”

Before Harry could reply, Arcturus slid another scroll, and Harry repeated the process. His breath hitched when he recognized his parents.

“The Potters were not as large a family as us Blacks, but the truth remains the same,” Arcturus explained with a frown. “Entire families were wiped out in the war, and irreversible damage was caused to the wizarding population of Britain.”

“Voldemort surely did a number on us,” Harry muttered. “And more will die in the coming years. How can we survive?”

“We cannot. Not with the damage that is already done and is sure to come. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Just what does that madman want?” Arcturus asked rhetorically. “Greed for power of one madman has destroyed our society. It shattered our families and threw us into a catastrophic future. And it is a future I refuse to accept.”

Harry stared at the man who was glaring at the table. “What are you saying?”

Arcturus looked at him in response. “My plan is to send a highly capable wizard back in time and alter the future as we know it. I want you, Harry Potter, to go back in time and stop Voldemort before he can rise, and in the process, save countless families from destruction, including yours and mine.”

Wide-eyed, Harry stared at the Black patriarch in silence.

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Chapter Text

Harry stared at Arcturus for a long moment before finally asking, “Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Very serious. You will kill Voldemort before he could start his reign of terror. Only then can we save everything,” Arcturus replied.

“How are you even going to do it anyway? Time turners send us back a few hours. You are talking about what? 20 years?” Harry asked disbelievingly.

Arcturus smiled. “Ritualistic magic is the most versatile branch of magic there is. You have no idea how much one can accomplish using rituals if one is willing to make the necessary sacrifice.”

Harry frowned. “What sacrifice are we talking about here?”

“My life.”

Harry’s eyes widened.

“I have nothing to live for, and if my life can be used to change the fate of our families and the future that will surely come to pass, then it is an easy choice for me.”

Harry sighed as he looked up at the ceiling. “And how will I get back once I’ve dealt with him?”

“You won’t.”

His face snapped straight ahead. “Pardon?”

“I said you won’t be coming back. Once you travel to the past, it will create an alternate reality which will have its own future. The current timeline will wither away as if it was never there.”

Harry’s eyes widened.

“Focus, Potter,” Arcturus hissed, and Harry took a few deep breaths, his Occlumency working to keep him calm.

“Sorry, I was overwhelmed for a bit.”

“Understandable.”

Harry frowned. “Still, not being able to come back… That is a big trade-off.”

“Is it?” Arcturus asked. “What do you have to live for in this timeline? Name one thing and I will bury this plan right now.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply but he couldn’t say anything. Frowning, he realized that he truly had nothing to live for, apart from killing Voldemort.

“You do realize you can see your parents and Sirius again, right?” Arcturus continued, and Harry’s eyes shot open. “Tell me you don’t want to take the opportunity to save them. To live with them. To know what kind of people they were. Tell me you don’t want to save your family.”

“Stop it,” Harry rubbed his face. “You don’t need to manipulate me. I see what this is now. Everything you did for me was for your own ends. You needed a weapon to kill Voldemort before he could deal any damage to the world, and you truly found a perfect one. Parents dead, and now friends dead. What does he have to live for, right?”

Arcturus leaned back.

“You missed the prophecy.”

Harry glared at the man who was looking at him with an even gaze.

“You are right. I never did this only out of the goodness of my heart. If I truly cared for you like a grandfather, I would have hidden you away so that no one could find you. Instead, I facilitated your training so that you could become the best damn wizard you could be. You are the grandson of Dorea and Charlus, but that is all. We never had any relationship, so don’t expect me to have care or concern for you. And you are right. I was manipulating you so that you could become capable enough to see my plan succeed. There, is that all you wanted to hear? I accept it all. At least I am not doing it for myself and my revenge, but for the greater good of all.”

Arcturus stood up and looked down at him with disdain.

“Listen and listen well, Potter. I have a cause, one I will see come to fruition. And I know you are a smart lad. So just accept it and stop with this melodrama, for I have no interest in hearing you whine about it.”

Harry stood up and stared down at the old man.

“Fine, Arcturus. You get your wish. I will go to the past and kill Voldemort. You are right. I have nothing to live for, and the prophecy says that I am destined to kill him anyway. Now or 20 years in the past, it doesn’t matter,” He hissed, before looking at the man firmly. “However, before we do it, I want you to tell me everything else you’ve been hiding from me.”

Arcturus looked at him and smirked.

“Let us start with how your beloved Dumbledore was raising you like a pig for slaughter.”

Harry’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean?”

“You remember that scar of yours?” Arcturus asked as he sat back and relaxed, looking at the young man who towered over him. “Dumbledore never told you what it was, right? Well, let me enlighten you. Voldemort created these vile little trinkets called Horcruxes. A Horcrux is an object which houses part of a person’s soul. The soul is split by the remorseless murder of an innocent before it is stored in any object of the person’s choice. As long as this object remains intact, the person remains tethered to the plane of existence and cannot die. When Voldemort hit you with the killing curse, his soul was already so volatile that a small chuck of it tore off and latched on to the only living host it could find, which were you.

“That is the reason why you could speak to snakes, see those visions you told me about, or feel whenever Voldemort was near you. A part of him lived inside you. However, when he hit you with the killing curse once again, the curse took away that piece of soul that resided inside you, leaving you all hale and hearty.”

Harry stared horrified, and Arcturus continued.

“Dumbledore has known that you had to die for Voldemort to truly perish. That is why he never confided in you or made you a competent wizard. You have the proof in front of you. In only a few months, you have become a hundred times more capable than you were before. That is no coincidence. Dumbledore never envisioned you living for long.”

Harry searched Arcturus’ face for any lie or deceit, however, he could not find any. He gritted his teeth in rage. It seemed everyone in his life had made it a habit to manipulate him.

No more, he thought, seething.

“How do you know about these Horcruxes? And how many did he make? I cannot kill him without knowing that,” Harry frowned. Arcturus sighed.

“I found one of the Horcruxes, the locket of Slytherin, in Grimmauld Place when I visited one day. That elf told me how everything happened and how he came to possess it. Another was the cup of Hufflepuff inside the maiden vault of my unhinged granddaughter Bellatrix. Those are the ones I know of. Both have been destroyed.”

“How do you destroy these Horcruxes?”

“As proven by you, the killing curse works, at least on living beings. For objects however, I know Basilisk venom and Fiendfyre can destroy them. I used the latter to get rid of those two.”

Harry nodded thoughtfully before his eyes widened. “I think I might know of one more. His diary. It was used to open the Chamber of Secrets in my second year. I destroyed it using Basilisk fang, and since it was stealing Ginny’s soul to restore a young Voldemort to a corporal form, I am inclined to believe it was a Horcrux.”

Arcturus nodded.

“You will have your work cut out for you. You need to find out how many Horcruxes he made, and also where they are. You can kill him only when you destroy them all.”

Harry sighed. It was never easy. However, perhaps it was better this way. At least, he will have something to live for. He looked at Arcturus and nodded.

“I think Dumbledore might also know a fair bit about this, however, I don’t know how willing he would be to part with this knowledge.”

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment before he nodded to himself. His idea might work.

The older wizard stared at him for a moment before he rubbed his hand over his face.

“You are a very capable wizard, Potter, and I might have done this for my plan, but that doesn’t mean I am an entirely heartless cunt. We will spend this week brushing up on whatever you will need when you go back, and you shall take everything there is in the Black family vault with you. Merlin knows it will see no use once I die and this timeline is obliterated. At least that way, you will have one less thing to worry about.”

“How generous of you,” Harry said, sarcastically. Arcturus ignored the tone.

“We will have to take care of a few more things. You cannot go back looking like this. You resemble the Potters too much, and it would be a pain to explain how it is possible. We will undertake another ritual that will permanently alter your physical attributes.”

Harry sighed but nodded, understanding the need for such a measure. Arcturus continued.

“It is a given that you cannot go by the name of Potter once you travel back in time. The same applies to the Blacks. However, it’s a relief that there is another house you can claim the lordship of. It helps that this house is revered all across the world and will give you a significant boost in the political sphere.”

Harry frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I am talking about the Peverells. The last daughter married into the Potter household. Since the Potters absorbed the line, you can claim the lordship.”

“Won’t that upset the Potters?” Harry asked with furrowed brows. Arcturus waved his hand.

“Your blood will be proof enough. No one will look too much into it once you prove that you have the blood of the Peverells and the connection is strong enough for you to take up the lordship. Everyone will assume that some son or daughter had left the family in the distant past and you descended from them.”

Harry shrugged. “If you say so. Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of right now. You will be better off figuring things out on your own once you reach there.”

Harry sighed and gave a short nod.

“If that is all?”

Arcturus nodded and stared at the back of the young wizard until he walked out of the room. He sighed to himself.

“One week more,” he whispered, staring at the photograph of the two families.

-Break-

Albus Dumbledore was walking back to his office after a highly subdued Halloween feast. The situation outside the castle was worsening. People were disappearing every day and despite losing so many capable wands, Tom seemed to be encountering no resistance. Already, he had taken out Amelia Bones and had his forces wreak havoc across Britain.

He knew young Draco had been tasked with killing him, a task the terrified boy was desperately trying and failing. Albus understood the Malfoy heir. It was not easy to lose your father and have a madman threaten to kill your mother if you didn’t do a certain heinous task. He could only hope Severus managed to salvage the situation. Already he had instructed to help Narcissa Malfoy relocate to a safe house if any member of the Order found the opportunity, and he hoped such an opportunity presented itself soon.

He sighed as his thoughts went to a certain emerald-eyed young man once again. It had been over four months since Harry had disappeared with Arcturus Black, and he had not been seen yet. Dumbledore didn’t know what Arcturus was planning. However, he knew the man enough to know that it was nothing Tom would like. There was no other man Arcturus Black hated more than Voldemort, who he considered responsible for the destruction of his family.

He turned the corner that led to his office and abruptly stopped, eyes widening as he saw the faint simmer of the invisibility cloak Harry owned. It was a unique artifact, and the only reason he could see it was that he held power over another unique artifact himself.

Silently, Dumbledore walked ahead and opened the door to his office. He saw him walk inside and followed.

Taking his seat, Dumbledore stared at him expectantly, and his eyebrows raised when he got a good look at the young man.

“You seem to have undergone quite a transformation, Harry,” Dumbledore remarked as he looked at him. He had grown a few inches and had bulked up considerably. His broad chest and arms were apparent under his robes.

Harry gave a faint smile. “Lord Black is a strict instructor,” he replied.

Dumbledore nodded. “Take a seat, Harry. I believe we have much to discuss.”

Harry sat down and looked around the office. His eyes fell on the phoenix who looked at him and trilled softly. Harry smiled.

“It seems Fawkes is still quite taken with you. Apart from me, he doesn’t interact with anyone.”

Harry nodded. “He is brilliant.”

Dumbledore chuckled as the phoenix puffed his chest out before he looked at Harry over his half-moon spectacles.

“Where have you been, Harry?”

“At some property of the Blacks. Lord Black said it was unplottable and no one could get there without being invited. It was very secure, sir. Much more than the Dursleys, I must admit.”

Dumbledore sighed. “I should have known you would be quite reluctant to go there, particularly after the events of last year.”

Harry frowned.

“What have you been up to then? You said Arcturus is a strict instructor,” Dumbledore asked curiously.

Harry nodded. “He certainly is. He has been training me so that I can fight when the time comes. I cannot change the past,” he said with a small smile, “but I can surely change the future.”

Dumbledore looked at Harry for a moment before he sighed.

“You could learn everything at Hogwarts too, Harry. I don’t believe it was a wise decision to quit your studies like this.”

“Believe me sir, I have learned more in these four months that I could’ve learned in four decades at Hogwarts. Also, grades are the least of my concern right now when our country is being torn apart by a madman who will stop at nothing until he kills me,” Harry replied firmly.

Dumbledore sighed.

“Is there anything you have done apart from studying and practicing magic?”

Harry smiled. “Voldemort is four Horcruxes down.”

Dumbledore’s face shot up; eyes wide as he stared at him in disbelief.

“What did you say?” He whispered.

Harry pulled out a silk bag and dropped the contents on the table in response. Dumbledore stared at the destroyed trinkets in shock.

“Riddle’s diary in my second year. Slytherin’s locket from the cave. Hufflepuff’s goblet from Bellatrix’s maiden vault. The one in my scar. Four Horcruxes gone.”

Dumbledore stared at the trinkets, waving his wand over them, before looking at Harry with an ashen face.

“Arcturus told me everything about this, and your plan regarding me.”

“Harry I…”

“I understand, sir,” Harry interrupted, and Dumbledore was surprised to see a small smile on his face. “For Voldemort to die, I needed to die. You did not have any choice in the matter. It hurt me a bit at first, but after I thought about it, I understood. Perhaps I would’ve done the same in your shoes, perhaps not. I hope I never have to make such a choice.”

Dumbledore closed his eyes and sighed as he pulled his glasses off and put them on the table, and Harry’s eyes immediately focused on his blackened hand.

“What happened to your hand?” He asked in surprise. Dumbledore chuckled in response.

“A consequence of my hubris,” he replied, before taking out a gold ring with a dark stone. “Make it five Horcruxes. This is the Gaunt ring.”

“May I?” Harry asked. Dumbledore nodded and he picked the ring up, staring at it intently. His eyes focused on the symbol on the stone and he frowned. He could swear he had seen that symbol somewhere, but he could not remember where.

“Where did you find this?” Harry asked as he put the ring back on the table.

“You may keep it if you want. I have no more use of it.”

Harry looked at the headmaster, and he could swear he saw him staring at the ring longingly before he schooled his face quickly. Nodding, he put the ring in his pocket, resolving to look up that sign once he got back.

“To answer your question, I found it under the floorboard of the Gaunt Shack in Little Hangleton. Remember the graveyard where Tom was resurrected? It is nearby in the woods.”

“How the hell did you even think of looking there?” Harry asked disbelievingly. Dumbledore smiled.

“I have found that memories often reveal things we might have either forgotten or have no inkling about. I have known about the possibility of the existence of Horcruxes for years, however I did not have the confirmation until you came with Tom’s diary. That was when I started to gather every memory I deemed important enough that could give me a sign regarding possible Horcruxes and their locations.”

Harry stared at Dumbledore, keeping his eagerness firmly in check. He had already discovered where one Horcrux was. Perhaps he could know where the others were if there were more.

“I can’t imagine it was an easy task,” Harry remarked softly as he looked at the old wizard, who sighed and nodded.

“I had hoped that you could help me this year with this,” he replied, and Harry looked inquisitive.

Dumbledore sighed. “When Tom was a student, his head of house was the Potions professor, Horace Slughorn. Tom, charming as he was, quickly managed to become close to Horace. It was Horace who told Tom something that helped him decide how many Horcruxes he should make. I have the memory; however, it is a fake. I had hoped I could use your help in making him come back and somehow get the genuine memory from him.”

“How would I fit in all of this?” Harry asked with a frown.

“Horace has this habit of collecting witches and wizards, for the lack of a better term, who he believes will one day reach places of position or fame in our world. With you being who you are, it is undeniable that Horace would have wanted to make you one of his collections. Furthermore, Horace adored your mother like his granddaughter, so that would have helped as well.”

“And I would have somehow used this connection to convince him to give me this memory,” Harry finished thoughtfully. Dumbledore nodded.

“Alas, in your absence, I could not get Horace to come back and that avenue seems closed now. It took me months to track him down to a vacant muggle house. Horace must have changed places numerous times in these months.”

Harry nodded, filing that information away. It seemed he would need to get close to this Slughorn when he went back in time since he seemed to still be teaching when his parents attended Hogwarts.

“Do you have any guess as to how many he has made? We have already got five,” Harry asked. Dumbledore frowned.

“The optimist in me is saying that we have got them all. Five is a powerful magical number. However, another part of me is saying that he has made perhaps one or two more. Seven is one of the most powerful magical numbers, so it makes sense. I dare not think of a higher number. Desecrating the soul even once is heinous.”

Harry nodded with a sigh. “We cannot do anything unless we manage to destroy all these Horcruxes.”

Dumbledore frowned. “We might not be able to kill him Harry, but we can still stop his advance. Protecting the lives of innocents is not something I would consider doing nothing.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Harry shook his head with a frown. Dumbledore nodded.

“Do you have any idea what the other Horcruxes, assuming he had made more, might be?”

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. “So far, we have found that he has used items from Slytherin and Hufflepuff. Godric’s sword is infused with Basilisk venom, and it is the only artifact apart from the Sorting Hat that he owned, both of which are free from the taint. I believe he might have turned something that belonged to Ravenclaw into a Horcrux.”

“Did Ravenclaw have any artifacts?” Harry asked inquisitively. He hoped with all his being that he could get some more answers. Dumbledore had been very forthcoming, and he would hate to have this opportunity go to waste. He looked at the headmaster who was staring at the table thoughtfully.

“There are rumors that Rowena had a diadem that could grant its wearer wisdom and intelligence. However, no one alive has ever seen it. I shall not put it past Tom to have somehow found it,” Dumbledore replied. Harry nodded.

“Have you tried to look for it, sir?” Harry asked. Dumbledore chuckled.

“I spent my youth chasing mythical objects, Harry. I lost all interest years ago.”

Frowning, Harry nodded.

“I do not know how capable you have become, but I hope you would not go seeking these artifacts on your own, Harry,” Dumbledore warned. “I do not mean to blow my own horn, but if someone like me can be tricked like this…”

Harry frowned as the old wizard trailed off. He looked at the hand with a frown once again. He had not paid much attention to it, but now that he saw closely, he recognized what spell it was.

“How long do you have?” He asked softly. Dumbledore looked surprised for a moment before he smiled.

“Six to eight months.”

Harry nodded.

“I should take my leave now,” he said softly. Dumbledore looked resigned and gave a small nod.

As Harry turned around and walked down the dais for what was possibly the last time, at least in this timeline, the headmaster’s parting words made him smile.

“Remember, Harry. Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who deserve it.”

Turning around, he looked at the headmaster.

“I like the amendment.”

Dumbledore chuckled as he watched the young man walk out of the door, and leaned back with a sigh. He did not have long to live, and Harry’s future was no longer set in stone. He had long given up on trying to control the life of the young man, and he could only wonder what choices he would make. Not for the first time, Albus Dumbledore pondered what the future of wizarding Britain entailed.

Looking down at the wand, Dumbledore wondered if he should have let Harry have it. The young man already possessed the cloak, and now he had the stone as well. Sighing, he stood up and walked over to his quarters to retire for the night.

-Break-

It was undeniable, and Arcturus had witnessed it during these four months, that Harry Potter was an extremely powerful and gifted wizard. He watched, fascinated, as the young man controlled a spell as volatile as Fiendfyre with pinpoint precision, molding it into whatever shape he wanted and even forcing it to become a concentrated ball. The bright red angry orb of light looked so volatile that Arcturus feared it might blow everything around them up if it exploded.

To his relief, the boy forced it down until it vanished in a puff of smoke. Never had he seen someone control this spell like this, and try as he might, he could not stop the respectful nod he gave him. The boy’s face gained a smirk as he looked at him.

“I’m going to the library for the evening,” he said once he was done with his practice for the day, and Arcturus watched him walk away. Since he had come back from that meeting with Dumbledore, the boy had been visiting the library a lot. Arcturus had wanted to ask the reason behind his newfound fascination for the library, however, he did not want to probe too much. It was a library anyway. What else would he be doing but reading up on spells?

Sighing he looked around himself. They would be performing the ritual the next day, and Arcturus could not help but feel apprehensive. Knowing that you were going to die made one feel like that.

He got up and went to the basement. The ritual room had mostly been prepared, and for the next few hours, Arcturus worked on it, crafting runes, and arranging the materials on the floor.

It was time for dinner when both emerged from their respective havens and met at the dining table.

“What is it you’re reading?” He asked, looking at the thick tome the boy had in his hand.

The boy sighed. “I’m looking for everything there is to know about the Peverells. There is barely anything written about them. I have no idea why they were so secretive.”

“Tell me you’re joking,” Arcturus asked, earning a raised eyebrow from the boy. He sighed, recalling that he was not raised in the wizarding world.

“Read The Tales of Beedle the Bard. They have a chapter dedicated to them.”

“Can’t you summarize it for me?” the boy asked, prompting him to sigh and nod.

The boy’s mouth had hung open when he finished.

“What happened to you? It’s a children’s tale. Although the Peverells were mysterious, having artifacts crafted by Death herself is outrageous.”

Harry pulled out his cloak and the ring in response.

“Invisibility cloaks last only a few years. This has been in my family at least since my father attended school. No way this is a normal cloak. The stone on this ring has the symbol of the Peverells. Who is to say this isn’t the Resurrection Stone?”

Arcturus’ eyes widened as he stared at the artifacts before he looked at the boy looking longingly at the Resurrection Stone and frowned.

“I hope you are not thinking about using the stone, boy,” Arcturus warned. “The dead deserve their rest. Remember what happened to the second brother.”

Harry blinked the tears away and nodded. He might have come to terms with their deaths but that didn’t mean he had buried all the emotions. They were his dear friends, and he would always love them.

Perhaps he could create a future where they would grow up happy and loved, and would never have to worry about war again.

Nodding firmly, Harry put the artifacts back in his pocket before looking at Arcturus.

“The wand should exist too then,” he said firmly. Arcturus shrugged.

“Possibly. I’ve never heard of it outside of these tales though.”

Harry sighed and nodded before he got up.

“Alright. I’m heading off to bed.”

“We will do the first ritual before lunch, and the main one in the evening. You should have no need of that now,” Arcturus remarked and held out his hand, looking at him. He saw the boy glance at his outstretched hand before he unclasped the locket from around his neck and handed it over.

With a nod, the boy walked away, leaving him staring at the small hourglass with mystical sand suspended in one half.

-Break-

“This is it,” Harry whispered, softly stroking Hedwig’s feathers. His faithful owl nipped his finger softly. He had already lost all his friends, and now it was time to part ways with Hedwig as well. Gently, Harry held his arm out and looked at her.

“I will find you one day, Hedwig. I promise.”

Her amber eyes stared at him unblinkingly before she nuzzled his face and took off. With a heavy heart, Harry stared at the white dot that gradually got smaller until she vanished from sight.

“Ready?” A firm voice asked from the doorway. Harry turned around and nodded.

Arcturus stared at the young man. They had undertaken the first ritual a few hours ago. Instead of emerald eyes, he now sported a pair of turquoise orbs. His hair had darkened a few shades, and instead of the messy locks, it was straight and cut short. His face had also altered, with higher cheekbones and slightly narrower lips, giving him an aristocratic look. With his build that was the result of the training regimen Arcturus had put him through, the boy looked like the heir of a powerful pureblood house. Arcturus nodded to himself in satisfaction.

“Let us go then,” he said finally and walked off. Harry walked behind him in silence.

The pair reached the ritual chamber and Harry closed the door behind him.

“You’ve got everything? Wand? Trunks?”

Harry nodded, feeling the shrunken trunks full of galleons from both Potter and Black vaults inside his pocket. Arcturus began the preparations.

“Remember to confirm the time you arrive in. According to estimates, you should arrive in the summer of 1976. Go to the Wizengamot archives first thing and claim your lordship. Better consolidate your power at the earliest. You can be sure that word will get out about you once you do, so stay vigilant for potential allies. And finally, remember not to judge people on the basis of their future decisions. You might find that people were quite different from how you knew them in this timeline.”

Harry nodded. Arcturus had already told him everything he needed to know.

“Good,” Arcturus hesitated before he sighed. “For what it’s worth, I am proud of how you have turned your life around. You are a true son of the House of Potter. Charlus would be proud of you.”

Those words meant more than he let on, as Harry nodded firmly. “Thank you, for everything you did for me. And I’m sorry for any trouble I caused you.”

Arcturus chuckled. “Just save our families and the wizarding populace by getting rid of this cunt and I’ll consider your debt repaid in full.”

Harry smiled as Arcturus started chanting. The runes glowed and Harry closed his eyes. He felt the ground start to shake and it grew more vigorous until he could hear the walls creaking. Right when he thought the house was going to collapse, he was yanked backward until he was floating into nothingness. Slowly, he opened his eyes and saw the inky blackness all around him with swirls of multicolored lights surrounding him. It was different from when he had used the time-turner.

Suddenly, he was yanked harshly and Harry immediately closed his eyes, trying with all his might to not throw up. A grunt escaped his lips as his back collided against the ground.

Blearily, Harry opened his eyes and looked around. He was in a massive field with nothing in sight apart from grassy plains as far as his eye could see. He quickly stood up and brandished his wand.

“Tempus,” he whispered, frowning slightly when he saw the date.

July 31, 1975

“Well, happy birthday to me,” he whispered and twisted on the spot, apparating away with a faint pop.

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Chapter Text

With a faint pop, Harry apparated in the alley across the telephone booth that was the entryway to the ministry atrium. Crossing the road with quick strides, he entered the red booth and quickly entered the code.

"Welcome to the Ministry for Magic. Please state your name and business," a cool female voice sounded.

"Harry Peverell, here to visit the Wizengamot archives."

"Please affix the card to your robe and always keep it on your person. You are also required to have your wand registered at the counter. Have a good day."

A small white card popped up, and Harry quickly affixed it to his shirt. Grimacing, he stepped inside and pulled the flush. In an instant, he vanished beneath.

The ministry atrium was bustling with activity and Harry looked around. It was 1975, so Voldemort had not yet announced himself to the world. As far as he remembered, no attacks had started yet.

That would change soon, he thought to himself as he walked over to the counter where he was supposed to get his wand registered.

A bored-looking witch pushed a tray forward and Harry placed his wand inside. The witch raised her eyebrows slightly after looking at the materials before pushing the tray forward. Harry smiled and grabbed his wand before walking toward the elevator.

He noted with a frown that quite a few ministry workers were waiting, and he joined the queue. Finally, the door opened with a loud ring, and Harry walked behind the others.

His destination was Level 2, so he opted to stay near the front and quickly stepped out when the elevator reached his destination.

The Wizengamot archives were situated at the far end of the corridor, and Harry walked over with quick, firm strides. A few people paused to look at him, curiously wondering who he was and what he was doing there. Harry did not pay them any mind. Who he was would soon become public knowledge anyway.

Harry entered the large room with numerous files and folders arranged on massive racks and walked over to the counter where an old wizard was sitting with a folder open in front of him.

"Yes?" The man asked when he looked over.

"I would like to claim the lordship of my house under the Doctrine of Ultima Linea," Harry said clearly. The man's eyes widened.

"You will need to have a blood verification then."

Harry nodded and pulled out his wand before making a thin slice on one of his fingers. He held it forward and let a drop fall on the small flask the man had held out. A small runic sequence was engraved on a metal contraption and Harry watched as the man put the flask inside.

The man's eyes bugged out when he read the small piece of parchment that popped out and he held it out for him. Harry read it and nodded.

Eligible heirships:

Lord Incumbent to the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell

Heir Secondary to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter

"This is correct. My name is Harry James Peverell, and I want to claim the lordship of my house as the last of my direct line. There is already an apparent heir to the House of Potter, right? Perhaps that is why I am the secondary heir. Our families are related, afterall."

The man quickly procured the ring of the lord of the house and slid it on the counter with a shaking hand. Harry smiled and took it out of the box before slipping it through his finger.

"Thank you," he nodded at the old man, who gave him a shaky nod and walked out of the room.

One more task to take care of, he thought to himself as he made his way to the elevator.

-Break-

Harry walked out of the office of the Department of Education, having scheduled his OWLs that would take place the next day. He planned to enroll himself as a sixth-year at Hogwarts. Originally, he had intended to join his parents in their year, however, because he had arrived a year earlier than intended, he had no choice.

The elevator was empty, and Harry smiled to himself as he entered. Leaning back, he thought of things he had to take care of.

There were a few tasks that demanded his attention. Preventing the rise of Voldemort was important, and even more important was killing him. Slughorn knew how many Horcruxes Voldemort had made, so he would need to develop a close relationship with the man. Hopefully, his Peverell bloodline would help him out.

Another important task was to acquire the Horcruxes. He knew what most of them were, however, he had no idea where they might be. Bellatrix, Regulus, and Lucius were all Hogwarts students right now and had not joined his forces. That proved a bit bothersome.

Then there were a few personal projects which he would undertake aside from Voldemort. He was sure the Deathly Hallows were real. He could acquire the stone and the cloak. However, he had no clue where the wand was. He would need to investigate it. It was his family's relic, and he would be damned if he let someone else use it. He just hoped that the wand had not been destroyed.

Sighing, Harry thought about the final task. His family was alive. His parents were alive. There was no way he would be letting any harm fall on them. They would live happy and fruitful lives, and he would ensure that.

Eyes closed, Harry wondered if he could do something that would prevent people from joining Voldemort's forces altogether. He chuckled mirthlessly. Many evil people lusted for power, and they would jump at the chance. There was nothing he could do to save them. However, that did not mean there was no hope for them at all. He would see how things unfolded, and only then would he decide whether he should make an effort. He had no appetite for charity anymore. He had only so much fucks to give.

Arcturus had told him to save their families and as many people as he could. Harry scoffed to himself as he thought about a few members of the Blacks, particularly about Bellatrix and Walburga. He would save only those he deemed deserving of his help. No one else. If they chose Voldemort, he would be happy to deal with them, his promise to Arcturus be damned.

The elevator stopped and Harry saw it was Level 2. He sighed. He had hoped he would have more time in solitude, however, it seemed someone else needed to use the elevator as well.

The door opened, and his eyes shot open when he saw the people who entered. Their eyes fell on him before they zeroed in on the tag affixed to his shirt, and they widened.

"Lord Peverell, an honor to meet you. I am Arcturus Black, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black," Arcturus said, his eyes hiding none of his interest. Beside him, the dark-haired man shook his head.

"Always with the formalities," he sighed, before looking at Harry with a smile. "I am Charlus Potter."

Harry looked at the Black patriarch and his grandfather and had to work his Occlumency to the maximum. Fixing a polite smile on his face, he nodded.

"An honor to meet you as well, my lords," he replied as the door to the elevator closed. He looked at the two men. Even twenty years younger, Arcturus still looked like a moody bastard with the same hair and beard. Harry had to wonder if the man ever changed his style.

His grandfather on the other hand was a tall, broad-shouldered man and Harry could readily admit that he looked like the warrior Arcturus had told him he was. With a neatly trimmed beard and hair that came to his shoulders, Charlus Potter was every bit an imposing lord of a powerful magical family. Involuntarily, Harry straightened and tilted his face slightly upwards.

Both men radiated a sort of presence Harry had only felt in the company of a few wizards, and that list included both Dumbledore and Voldemort.

It could only be his luck that he would stumble on these two men before even a day had passed in this new reality that was now his. Harry sighed. This meeting was going to happen anyway.

"Imagine our surprise when we found that someone came to the archives today to claim the lordship of the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell," Arcturus remarked as he looked at Harry. "I must say we are quite fortunate to meet you already."

Harry nodded.

"I had no idea that the main line of House Peverell had survived," Charlus remarked, looking keenly at Harry. "My family records clearly state that the last daughter of the house married into my family, so I was indeed surprised to learn that someone had claimed the lordship."

Harry looked at the man with a frown, who was quick to reassure him.

"I do not mean any insult, Lord Peverell. It was simply a surprise. Everyone knows the ancient spells governing the Wizengamot cannot be tricked. You must be eligible to hold the lordship of the house, otherwise that ring would have killed you the moment you put it on with the intention to control the house."

Harry gave the man a small smile. The ancient spells could not be tricked, yes, but there certainly were ways to maneuver around them if the correct conditions were met. Conditions like his situation.

"I understand, my lord. No offence taken," he reassured the man.

The elevator came to a stop and the door slid open, and they saw that they were already on the main floor. Together, they walked out.

"We would be honored to host you over dinner, Lord Peverell. As lords of Ancient and Noble Houses, we should get to know each other. Say, this Sunday evening at 7?" Arcturus asked politely, or at least as politely as one could expect from the man. Harry had to stop himself from sighing.

It might have been an invitation, but Harry knew what it truly was. He knew how prideful Arcturus was, and there was no way it was in his best interests to decline a request from him. He looked at the man and nodded.

"It would be my pleasure."

Arcturus smiled.

"The address is #12 Grimmauld Place. If you arrive via Floo, please call beforehand and I shall grant you access," he said and looked at Charlus. "You should come over with Dorea and James as well."

Charlus gave his acceptance before the two men greeted him and walked away. Harry sighed to himself as he stared at them before walking over to the apparition point.

-Break-

His trunks had all his belongings, and his first task was to get himself settled. Two things were necessary – a permanent place to live and getting his vault sorted out at Gringotts. Resolving to get the latter sorted out first, Harry apparated to Diagon Alley.

He smiled as he looked around. The alley looked clean and lively, with people bustling on the street and inside the shops. Since school was due to start in a month, several students could be seen doing the shopping early.

This was what things were like before Voldemort's reign of terror.

He identified several shops from his time, from Madam Malkin's robe shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies, Eeylops Owl Emporium, and Flourish and Blotts to Florian Fortescue's ice-cream parlor. He frowned as he looked at the latter. The last he had heard, Mr. Fortescue had been murdered and his shop vandalized. So much destruction had been wrought by one madman in his lust for power, Harry thought, seething.

Walking up the steps to Gringotts, Harry took a moment to look at the warning inscribed on the wall. He truly had no interest in ever robbing the goblins.

The foyer was as expensively decorated as ever, with golden chandeliers dangling off the ceiling and a shiny marble floor reflecting the light.

He spotted a teller with no queue in front of him and walked over.

"State your name and business," the goblin said curtly, looking at him with keen eyes.

"Harry Peverell, here to open a new vault and make a deposit."

The gleam of greed entered the goblin's eyes as he stared at him.

"Peverell, you say?" He muttered. "Prove it."

Harry held his hand out in response, and the goblin stared at the ring. It was a platinum ring with a black gemstone in the middle with the Peverell insignia on it.

"Authentic," the goblin admitted as he looked at him. "You are the first Peverell who has decided to entrust Gringotts with your money."

"I know. Everything starts somewhere."

"True, true," the goblin muttered before his hands glowed. Harry watched as a key materialized on the counter before the goblin slid it in front of him. "One drop of your blood."

Sighing, Harry made a thin slice on his finger and let a drop fall before healing it. The key glowed once again and the goblin nodded.

"Vault 108. Your records will be collected from the ministry. Larkoff will take you to make the deposit."

Harry watched as the goblin stamped a piece of parchment harshly, which flew away. Looking to the side, he saw a goblin who he assumed must be Larkoff.

"Follow me, wizard," the goblin muttered. Harry followed behind him.

They got in the cart which took them to a deep trench beneath the bank. Harry watched the waterfall he recognized from his first visit as well as a few dragons that seemed to be guarding the vaults. He had never ventured this deep, and he wondered just how he was assigned a vault this deep underground.

The cart came to a stop and the goblin hopped off. Harry jumped off behind him.

"Key."

Silently, Harry handed the key over and saw the goblin open it. As expected, the vault was empty. However, Harry observed that it was massive.

He brought a few trunks out and enlarged them, before flicking his wand.

The goblin watched with wide eyes as millions of galleons floated inside the vault and started to arrange themselves in massive piles. Harry flicked his wand again when it was done and looked at the goblin.

"Thirty-six million, four hundred thirty-three thousand and six hundred forty-four galleons."

Harry nodded in satisfaction. Both the Potter and Black vaults had been emptied, and given what he knew about the houses, it was not a surprise to see that he had this much money. It went without saying that he could live comfortably without working a day in his life, even though he had no intention of doing that.

He took out the six hundred forty-four galleons and put them inside a bottomless bag before gesturing for the goblin to close the vault. The goblin sneered but did as he was bid, and Harry pocketed the key.

One long ride in the cart later, he was back in the foyer and quickly walked out of the bank. He needed to sort out his living arrangements, and even though he would've lived very comfortably in a small home, he knew he needed a manor befitting the House of Peverell. After all, politics would require him to host a few events to socialize with his allies.

Luckily, Arcturus had told him who to approach, and Harry quickly walked to the apparition point and vanished with a faint pop.

-Break-

"Lord Peverell, apologies for keeping you waiting," a middle-aged man with a neatly trimmed beard and blonde hair walked over and greeted him with a firm handshake. Harry nodded.

"No apologies are needed, Lord Greengrass."

The lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Greengrass smiled as he led him over to his office.

"I could not believe my assistant's missive when I read that the new lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell had paid me a visit. Please do tell, what can I do for you?"

Harry smiled, not surprised at all that word had spread in the pureblood circles already. "I want to purchase a manor for the House of Peverell. Naturally the best will do. I would prefer it if the manor is in the south. I am not a very big fan of the cold."

Alastair Greengrass smiled. "You have come to the correct place, my lord. I believe we can get you sorted out very soon."

Harry watched as the man tapped his wand on the table and miniature versions of three large mansions materialized in front of him. He immediately noted that two were smaller than the third.

"These are a few of the properties for sale in the south. This one is outside Southampton," Greengrass gestured toward the first one, before pointing to the second. "This one is outside Falmouth and the last one is outside Bournemouth. All manors are away from the muggle-populated areas so you don't need to worry about it."

Harry immediately discarded the other two and focused on the one outside Falmouth, which was the largest and overlooked the Celtic Sea. It also looked the best out of the three.

"I think the one in Falmouth would do. However, I would like to have a tour before we finalize everything."

Greengrass smiled. "Certainly. If you will," he asked, tapping his wand against the replica and gesturing for him to touch it. Harry gently grabbed hold and they vanished in a swirl of colors.

The gentle breeze of the sea greeted them as Harry and Alastair appeared in front of a massive manor, and Harry admitted to himself that the replica certainly did not do it justice.

The manor was an impressive sight. It was a massive sprawling estate with a four-story façade and a large garden in front with a pathway through the middle that led to the house. The outer wall was made of bricks and decorated with intricate details and Harry saw large columns featuring the exterior.

As they toured around, he saw that the compound consisted of the garden he had seen, a large courtyard, and even a large fountain in the middle.

They toured the manor, and Harry liked it very much. The interior was richly decorated with antique furniture, wooden paneling, and Persian rugs. Large chandeliers and other luxurious artwork added to its grandiose. It was spacious and he believed it befitted the House of Peverell.

Half an hour later, Harry walked out of the office of Alistair Greengrass a few hundred thousand galleons poorer but as the proud owner of the Peverell Manor. Although the property had been warded by some of the most capable curse breakers Greengrass contracted, Harry would be remiss in his vigilance if he did not investigate them and add a few of his own. After all, the lord of House Black – a house that was notorious for its lethal wards – had been his instructor, and the man had taught him everything he knew about warding. Harry was not as capable as him yet, but he was confident that it would take days for anyone to breach past his defenses. House Black was not one to be trifled with.

It was already late afternoon, and Harry grabbed a quick lunch at The Leaky Cauldron before apparating away to his home. He quickly got to work, tweaking the wards and adding his own. The wards the property had come with were enough, but times would not be normal for long. Once Voldemort started his attacks, he was bound to cross wands with him. As such, these wards would surely come in handy.

Harry spent over three hours working on the wards, and only then did he pronounce it satisfactory. He wanted to cast the Fidelius charm over the property as well, however, that would serve no purpose. The war had not started yet and he would be inviting people over, so casting a Fidelius was not something he ought to do. However, he was sure he would need to cast it in the future.

That could wait. He had more pressing matters to attend to, one of which was to procure a house elf. There was no way he could take care of this vast property on his own. Once again, Arcturus' advice came to his aid.

It was early evening when Harry Potter appeared in Knockturn Alley in front of Borgin and Burke's shop. Shady characters from hags to petty criminals had already started to fill the alley and Harry quickly pulled his hood up and started to project his magic around him. He smirked when a couple of thugs stopped in their tracks, reconsidering what was their previous intention of mugging him, and walked in the other direction.

The slave trader ran his affairs in the deeper part of the alley. Harry had to scoff at the fact that such a heinous practice was underway right under the ministry's nose. He knew they won't do anything. Taking any action against slavery and dark artifact dealers would upset a lot of pureblood houses, and that was not something any minister could do. A minister had to appease those who ensured he or she was elected or those who were in positions of power, either financially or politically.

Harry walked with purposeful steps toward the deeper end of Knockturn Alley and searched for the small statue Arcturus had told him about. His eyes zeroed in on the small statue right outside a small building and he entered.

A rotund man with round glasses and a large mustache appeared from the side and grinned snidely.

"Welcome to my humble establishment, my lord. How may I help you?"

Harry had no interest in the many creatures he could see in the cages. He wanted so badly to just free them all, however, he knew it would lead to drastic consequences for both him and the wizarding economy in general. With war at the doorstep, he could not afford any setback, even though it pained him to leave these creatures in such a situation.

However, Harry resolved to himself that freeing them would be one of the first tasks he would undertake once Voldemort was dealt with.

"I am here for a house elf," Harry replied firmly. The man's smile widened.

"Certainly, my lord. If you would follow me," he walked to a large cage and Harry joined him. He could not help but wince slightly when he saw the magic-dampening chains holding them against the walls of the cage. There were four elves in total, all dressed in rags and staring at the floor.

"How much?"

"One elf sells for two hundred thousand galleons," the man grinned sickly.

Harry nodded. "Five hundred thousand for all four. Take it or no deal."

The man frowned.

"The best I can do is seven hundred and fifty thousand, my lord."

Harry didn't budge. "Five hundred thousand for all four. I am being very generous here."

"My lord, one elf sells for two hundred thousand. I can give you all four for seven hundred thousand. No less than that."

Harry didn't bother to reply and turned around. "I'll take my business elsewhere then."

He was almost at the door when the man shouted for him to stop. Harry smirked.

"Six hundred thousand and we can call it a deal."

Harry turned around.

"Throw that wolf into the mix and we have a deal," he said, gesturing toward a dark wolf that was chained in a bright cage with lamps surrounding it. The slaver looked over and grimaced before he sighed.

"I believe we have a deal."

Quickly, Harry signed a receipt and stamped it before handing it over to the slaver, who took a look at the name. His eyes bugged out.

"I hope I can count on your discretion. Afterall, it would be your preference to have my continued patronage."

"Too right, my lord Peverell, too right. Anything you want, whatever you want. I will ensure I procure it for you."

Harry smirked and nodded before heading over to the cage with the elves.

"Bring them out."

The slaver did as he was told, and Harry stared at all four elves. With the help of the magic that the bond will grant them, he was sure they would be fit and running in no time.

The slaver brought a small vial and made a little cut on each elf's fingers before taking a few drops of their blood in it. Harry made another thin slice on his finger and let a few drops of his blood join theirs. The slaver shook the vial before pouring a few drops inside each elf's mouth with a small dropper.

Instantly, the elves' skin lightened to a healthy pink and they stood straighter, looking at him in adoration. They energetically introduced themselves, and Harry nodded.

"Go to Peverell Manor. I shall join you in a few minutes."

The elves nodded and vanished with a pop. Harry turned to look at the wolf that was staring at him keenly.

"Open his cage."

The slaver quickly unlocked it and Harry yanked it open. The cage was too bright and he had to squint slightly as he walked in.

"I gather this is a shadow wolf?"

The slaver grinned.

"One of the few in Britain, my lord Peverell. And now you are the proud owner of one. I must say you would be the envy of quite a few witches and wizards when they see it."

Harry nodded and watched as the slaver did the same blood infusion with the wolf, and once he dropped the mixed blood in its mouth, the wolf's slightly grey fur darkened into pitch black and it stood up, looking at him curiously.

Harry bent down so that he was at eye level with the wolf and smiled.

"You are my companion now, and I can't wait to get to know you."

The wolf growled softly in response and bumped its head against his. Harry chuckled. He noticed it was a female, and immediately, the name came to him.

"Luna," he whispered, looking at the wolf who tilted her head. Harry smiled softly. "Your name will be Luna. Fitting for a wolf, I think."

The newly dubbed Luna softly licked his nose. Harry chuckled and walked out of the cage, with the wolf following behind him. The moment they crossed the threshold, Harry watched as Luna vanished inside his shadow.

"I cannot see it, but you will always be able to tell that it is there. As a shadow wolf, it will always come to you if there is a shadow near you," the slaver replied, looking at him. Harry nodded.

"I believe that concludes our business today."

The slaver watched as Harry turned around on the spot and vanished with a soft pop. His eyes fell on the big fat draft from Gringotts and he could not help but grin. The business was brilliantly booming, and he hoped there would be more sales to come. However, right now, he needed to procure more elves since he was out of stock.

With a skip in his steps, the slaver walked away, leaving a collection of caged magical creatures behind him.

-Break-

Even though he knew how efficient house elves could be, he was still surprised to see how quickly they had divided the work among themselves. After arriving back home, he needed to wait for only an hour and he was served a healthy dinner courtesy of Minnie.

They were a pair of male and female elves, with Minnie taking charge of meals, Vimsy overseeing the upkeep of the manor, Rooky resolving to ensure the garden, courtyard, and the entire exterior of the manor was maintained to the highest of standards, and Harkey to take care of all the clothes and fabric in the manor while also helping the other three out whenever possible.

Harry was satisfied with how much work he had managed to get done already. His OWLs had been scheduled for tomorrow, his manor and everything about it was taken care of, and without even intending to, he had gotten into contact with Arcturus and his grandfather.

He frowned as he thought about it. There was no way he would be telling them who he truly was. Terrible things happened to wizards who meddled with time, and even though this was a new reality, he did not want the future to interfere with what was essentially the past.

Even though a part of him wanted to at least tell his family who he was, he did not know if that was the right course of action. He did not know what they might do if he told them what had happened in the future he had come from. Sighing, he decided that he would tell them only if it became necessary, otherwise, this secret would go to his grave with him.

"It's truly a bother, Luna," he muttered, stroking his new companion behind her ears, chuckling when she gave a soft rumble.

He had his task cut out for him. Managing politics, discovering the entire truth of Voldemort's Horcruxes and killing the bastard for good, taking care of his followers, and preventing as many people as he could from joining him. Those would prove challenging. He doubted he would manage to accomplish the latter. The wizarding society was already very fractured and had been a ticking timebomb, to quote the muggle saying. It had needed only a catalyst to send it exploding, and Voldemort had played that role expertly. There was no way he would be able to stop people from joining him, however, he could certainly prevent a few from doing so.

Most of his followers whom he knew were currently at Hogwarts, and that included the majority of his inner circle. Malfoy, the Lestrange brothers, the Black sisters, and many others from predominantly dark families had their charges in either the sixth or seventh years, with a few being in the lower years like Regulus Black or Barty Crouch Junior. Harry wondered how many he could prevent from going to the other side.

He chuckled when he realized the chances were very slim. If he managed to stop even five of them, he would consider his endeavor a success.

His thoughts went back to his promise to Arcturus. The man had asked him to somehow ensure no one from his family joined Voldemort. Harry knew Walburga and Bellatrix would jump in a heartbeat, which left Regulus and Narcissa. He sighed. He would try with all of them, however, he would not bother too much if they did not see sense. As he had previously decided, he would be making efforts to save only those who deserved saving. If they wanted to make their graves so much, he would happily stand aside and watch them lie down. It was not as if he owed anyone anything.

He had had enough of being beholden to others. This was his life now. He would live it however he wanted.

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Chapter Text

The next morning found Harry waking up inside the master bedroom of Peverell Manor with a rough tongue licking his face. Sighing, he started to softly stroke Luna behind the ear and opened his eyes.

"You know, I'd really prefer not waking up like this."

Luna gave a long lick on his cheek in response, looking at him mirthfully. Harry released a deep breath.

"Alright. You're in a fun mood. I get it. Now get up so I can go to the bathroom."

Luna licked his nose and obediently got off the bed, lying down on the rug spread on the floor. Harry shook his head and made his way to the bathroom. He saw that it was five minutes past seven, which meant he had roughly two hours until he had to report to the Education Department for his OWLs. Ample time, he thought as he entered the bathroom and closed the door.

Half an hour later, Harry was standing in the middle of his bedroom and staring at Luna sternly, who was looking down, properly chastised.

"And I repeat," Harry said firmly. "You are to never repeat what you just did. Bathroom is private, and I don't want you popping out of my shadow while I'm taking a shit."

He was sure the wolf was laughing to herself, however morose she looked on the outside, and could not help but sigh.

"I guess I'll need to properly train you so you understand how you should behave. Alright, here is what we're gonna do. You will remain out of my shadow from the moment I go to bed until the moment I get ready the next morning. Whenever we are out in public, you will live in my shadow like usual and come out only when you either sense a danger or when I call you. Is that clear?"

Luna looked at him and gave a faint growl. Harry nodded and softly stroked her behind the ear.

"Good girl," he chuckled when she gave a happy growl and leaned into his touch. "Behave like a good girl and I'll keep doing it. Now let's go. I'm sure Minnie has breakfast ready."

At the mention of food, Luna quickly hopped into his shadow. Harry smiled and walked out of the bedroom.

It was fifteen minutes later when Harry was absentmindedly eating with one hand and twirling his wand with the other. He had decided to note down a few important points that he needed to remember in this timeline. A small piece of parchment was floating in the air with a quill hovering over it.

"It's 1975. Bagnold is the minister. Arcturus said she is better than Fudge but not by much. The woman has immense greed for her chair, which would make her a fair-weather ally at best. Barty Crouch is the Head of the DMLE. A capable and ruthless head of department for wartime and would be a good ally, but only for as long as we are at war. The man should be replaced once Voldemort is taken care of. Alastor Moddy is the Head Auror. A capable wizard and should be an ally. He won't shy away from using force either. A possible option could be to get Crouch to be the minister and Moody to be the head of the DMLE. Although that would take Moody off the field of battle, which is not desirable. I'll have to think more on it."

Harry thought about who else he should be mindful of or who deserved any consideration.

"Dumbledore is the headmaster, Chief Warlock and the Supreme Mugwump. Need to take care not to get too close to him. The name of Peverell will rouse his interest so he will give me particular attention. I'll respond as the situation develops. That takes care of people in power."

The quill kept recording everything he said, and Harry continued.

"Most of the known Death Eaters are still at Hogwarts. I'll have to see who can be swayed away from joining Voldemort. Although it would be better if most of them died anyway. I'll see what kind of people they are and then decide what to do with them. Death Eater activities intensify over the summer of 1977, so I have two years to take care of Horcruxes. Known ones are Tom's Diary, Hufflepuff's Cup, Slytherin's Locket, the Gaunt Ring and possibly the Diadem of Ravenclaw. Locations of all are unknown apart from the ring, which is in some shack in the woods near the graveyard in Little Hangleton. I'll have to take measure of the area and plan how to extract it. It's also possible that Voldemort might show up if I accidentally trigger something, so I'll need to take care. Also, I must obtain a goblin-forged steel or Godric's sword from the Sorting Hat and take care of the Basilisk as well. There is no need to take the risk of keeping it alive. It would take care of my need for Basilisk venom for destroying Horcruxes as well."

Harry took a sip of his juice. He could control Fiendfyre, but it was no easy task. It was better if he used Basilisk venom to destroy the Horcruxes instead. It seemed the easier option. He thought about what else he could remember that might be important.

"The most important task right now is to discover how many Horcruxes there are. Slughorn knows the secret. It's important to get close to the man within these two years. It is also necessary to form alliances in the Wizengamot to prevent Voldemort from passing the laws and resolutions he wants and to ensure he doesn't get more followers. Dinner with the Blacks is a good enough first step toward it."

Harry nodded to himself. That was all he could think of right now. The most active players in the game, his most important goals, and things he needed to consider had all been covered, and he didn't think he missed anything.

Today, he would take his OWLs, and tomorrow, he had that dinner to attend. He wondered how things would go with the Blacks. He couldn't help but get excited at the prospect of seeing Sirius once again. Sure, he was not the Sirius he had known, but he was looking forward to it nonetheless.

Thoughts of Sirius soon gave way to those of his parents. His grandfather had also been invited along with his grandmother and his father. Harry couldn't help but get slightly emotional. It had been hard enough to keep his composure around the grandfather who he had never known. He knew he would need every bit of his Occlumency when he met his grandmother and father. A part of him couldn't help but think whether there was any possibility of having a familial relationship with the Potters. Perhaps he could use the fact that they were distantly related. He would need to wait and see.

He knew his father was a right prat in his younger years, particularly in the fifth year. He had seen it in Snape's memories. He hoped he could somehow manage to curb his father's immaturity before things could worsen.

His mother was also there, and Harry was both anticipatory and apprehensive about meeting her. He was sure she was the brilliant witch all his professors had always described her as, and he could not wait to meet her.

He might not be their son and they might not be his parents, but perhaps he could be their friend. He had the chance to prevent the fate that had befallen them, and he would be damned if he let anything happen to them. There were Neville's parents to consider as well. No way he would let them get tortured into insanity once again.

"Save my parents and Sirius. Save Neville's parents," he whispered.

The quill scribbled on the parchment, and Harry levitated it to the table before reading through. It was done. He could not think of anything else at the moment. Perhaps something would come to him in the future. However, right now, he had his goals and targets set out. The only thing that remained was to formulate plans to bring them to fruition.

-Break-

Harry had a very small task to take care of that morning before he went to the ministry for his OWLs. He finished his breakfast at 8 and apparated away with a faint pop.

It was quarter to 9 when he walked through the entrance to the ministry with a small smirk and made his way to the Department of Education. The ministry was comparatively empty today and he did not have to wait in any queue.

The stern face of Griselda Marchbanks met him as he walked in.

"Good Morning, Madam Marchbanks," Harry greeted politely.

"Good Morning to you as well, Lord Peverell. Before we begin, you will have to fill the form that will become part of our official record," the old woman replied and held out a sheet of parchment. Harry looked it over. It was the standard form and Harry shrugged.

Filling it up, he saw the documents he was required to submit. He had almost forgotten about his identification papers the previous day and had been reminded by Marchbanks about it. He had no identification in the magical world. However, Arcturus and he had quickly thought of a solution that did not involve any shady maneuvers either, at least in the magical world.

There were many recorded cases, particularly with orphans, where they had no registered identification with the ministry. However, almost everyone had muggle identification.

Confounding the official in charge to register him retrospectively and sorting out his files had been a piece of cake.

Harry pulled out his muggle identification papers and made a quick copy before attaching it to the form and passed it over to the woman, who looked it over and nodded.

"Since you are not a registered citizen of Wizarding Britain, this document shall be forwarded to the Department of Human Resource Development so that your name can be visible in the Hall of Family Records. Please proceed to the examination room and I will join you shortly."

Harry smiled at the woman and walked away with a small smirk. There, without bothering with shady individuals in Knockturn Alley or even the Goblins who would've surely demanded his left kidney for such a menial task, he had managed it with a little ingenuity. Given how secretive his house was, no one would bat an eye at the fact that he had never been registered with the British Ministry.

The next eight hours apart from one small break of fifteen minutes for lunch were filled with his quill scribbling on numerous parchments as Harry took his OWLs in every core subject and three electives – Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Care of Magical Creatures. Arcturus had helped him brilliantly, and he was capable enough to challenge any adult wizard.

Although he was confident that he could easily deal with any member of Voldemort's inner circle, either individually or in a small group with how he currently was, he was not sure he could even land a critical blow on the bastard himself. He had managed to beat Voldemort in a battle of wills back in the graveyard, however, magically they were nowhere close, even after all the training he had undergone.

Harry was sure Voldemort was perhaps even more capable in this timeline, and he could not afford to slack off in any sense. He would need to keep working on himself to improve as much as he could. Failure was not an option.

The practical portion of the OWLs proved how capable he truly was, with Professor Tofty and Madam Marchbanks all left shell-shocked at the skills he demonstrated. He knew he was cheating slightly. He had undergone specialized training, after all. However, he couldn't care about it. It was the fruit of his hard work, and he would be damned if he did not show it.

His OWLs had begun at half past nine, and it was seven in the evening when he was finally done.

"Your results will be sent via owl on either tomorrow night or Sunday morning," Madam Marchbanks informed him. Harry nodded.

"Thank you," he bowed his head slightly in respect. The woman smiled at him and gave a small nod. With a smile of his own, Harry walked out of the room and toward the elevator.

"Ah, my Lord Peverell, a pleasure to finally meet you."

Harry looked over and had to work to keep his true emotions from showing on his face as he saw who had called him. The resemblance was uncanny.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I recognize you, my lord," Harry replied instead. The man smiled.

"My apologies. I am Abraxas, lord of the Noble House of Malfoy. This is my heir Lucius."

Harry forced a smile.

"A pleasure to meet you both."

The man looked behind him and smirked.

"I heard that you would be taking your OWLs today. My Lucius will also start his sixth year in a month. I hope you will be attending Hogwarts as well?"

Harry nodded. "That was my intention, yes."

"Splendid," the man said with a smile. "I am sure Lucius here will help you adequately should you need it."

Harry looked at the young man who smiled at him and reluctantly shook his hand. Internally, he resolved to clean that hand with the strongest charm he could cast.

"It would be an honor to aid someone of your station, my lord," Lucius' voice was as slimy as he remembered, and Harry smiled. If he didn't know any better, he would've easily believed that the two men were as genuine as they portrayed themselves to be. Alas, their efforts to make an ally out of him were all in vain.

"I am sure your heir will prove to be a credit to your house, my lord," Harry forced the words out, internally believing not even an iota of it. "By your leave then? It has been a long day and I would like to retire early."

The two men nodded in understanding. Harry saw that they were also leaving the ministry, and he stifled a sigh. A few more minutes of their company meant nothing.

"We would be honored to host you at our home, Lord Peverell. Please consider it a gesture of welcoming you to the public sphere. What do you say about this Sunday evening?"

Harry forced an apologetic look on his face. "Unfortunately I am otherwise occupied on Sunday. Perhaps we could decide a later date? I am sure we shall keep meeting in the future. After all, I have taken up my lordship so socializing is to be expected."

The Malfoy patriarch laughed.

"Too true. There is no rush. I look forward to working with you toward the progress our Wizarding Britain, my lord."

Harry nodded with an easy smile, scoffing to himself.

The elevator dinged and they parted ways. The Malfoys went to the floo on the right while Harry walked straight ahead toward the apparition point. Exhausted after that hassle of a talk, he twisted on the spot and apparated back home.

-Break-

It was early morning on Sunday when Harry received his OWL results. The envelope had been placed on the breakfast table along with his food, and Harry absently stroked Luna behind her ear as he flicked his wand to open it.

Dear Lord Peverell,

Please find enclosed the results for your Ordinary Wizarding Level Examinations.

Pass Grades:

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (EE)

Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades:

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

The results for your core subjects are:

Astronomy:  EE

Charms:  O

Defense against the Dark Arts:  O

Herbology:  O

History of Magic:  EE

Potions:  O

Transfiguration:  O

The results for your elective subjects are:

Arithmancy:  O

Care of Magical Creatures:  O

Study of Ancient Runes:  O

Congratulations on the completion of  TEN  OWLs. We wish you all the best in your future academics.

Sincerely,

Griselda Marchbanks

Head of the Department of Education,

Ministry for Magic

Harry looked at his results and smiled. He had not bothered too much with Astronomy and History, so those grades were to be expected. However, his results for all the other subjects were as he had envisioned.

He had to visit Grimmauld Place this evening, which meant he had nothing apart from his practice to do for the day. As he went about his breakfast, he wondered to himself whether he should visit Hogwarts or send a letter to Dumbledore regarding his intention to join.

-Break-

The last few days had been peaceful for Albus Dumbledore until he received this letter. Things had been quiet for a while, so it did not surprise him. Tranquility never lasted for long.

However, out of all the things he could have imagined happening, a Peverell appearing in the public domain out of nowhere was something he had never expected to happen.

As the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, he was notified whenever any significant changes happened. It made sense that he would be notified when someone took up a seat in the parliament of Wizarding Britain.

Dumbledore had not paid the missive any mind when it had arrived, busy as he was in selecting the candies he would feast on this month. Had he known just which house it was, he didn't think he would've been so dismissive.

His eyes had shot open when he had read it.

The same letter was still sitting in front of him. Harry James Peverell – a young man of sixteen had taken up the lordship under the Doctrine of Ultima Linea. It had been years since that doctrine had been enforced. Underage individuals had rarely taken up their lordships during his time as Chief Warlock.

He had to admit that he was more than intrigued. The name of the family was enough to rouse his curiosity – a family he had researched more than any other, apart from Gellert, that is.

Never had they discovered that the main branch of the family existed. There was no other explanation that made sense. The last traces of the house stopped at Iolanthe Peverell, the granddaughter of the great Ignotus Peverell who had married Hardwin Potter. That should have made the Potters the only eligible candidates for the lordship of the House of Peverell.

However, for this Harry James Peverell to successfully claim the lordship, there was only one possibility. Somehow, either in the Peverell or the Potter bloodline, a son had branched off the main family, whose descendent had successfully claimed the lordship. Numerous witches and wizards could claim a faint connection to the Peverells, however, that was not enough to become the lord of the house. For one to become the lord, there needed to be a direct blood relation.

The Peverell family ring had recognized the young man as the lord of the house, and so had the magic governing the Wizengamot. There was no possibility of foul play.

Dumbledore sat in his office, pondering on this new development. He wondered where the new Peverell lord had been all these years. After all, he should have come to Hogwarts, but there was no one ever registered as Harry James Peverell in the student record. Dumbledore could only attribute it to the magic of the house to conceal the identity of its members. It was common knowledge how secretive the House of Peverell truly was, with its origins and exploits shrouded in mystery and legends surrounding it.

His fingers closed around the Elder Wand. No one apart from a few knew the true identity of this wand, and now here was a descendant of the house which had the true right to wield it. Dumbledore gazed at it with a small frown and could not help but wonder whether the wand would switch its loyalties. Even though a part of him could not help but be reluctant to part with it, the rational part of him understood. Only a Peverell could utilize the Deathly Hallows to their full potential.

He was brought out of his thoughts when an ethereal stag galloped through the entrance to the door and came to a stop in front of him.

"A Patronus," Dumbledore whispered as he gazed at the glowing creature that bowed in front of him in greeting.

"Headmaster Dumbledore," the voice of a young man came from the stag, and Dumbledore leaned forward slightly in interest. "I assume as the Chief Warlock, you must have been notified already. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Harry James Peverell, the lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Peverell, and I would like to request a few moments of your time at your earliest convenience. If you can spare some time right now, then please reply with a Patronus and I shall come to Hogwarts. You can even send your majestic phoenix. I have taken the wards down, so he should have no trouble finding me. If not, then I await your response. Thank you."

Dumbledore watched as the Patronus vanished in a soft swirl of mist. The shape of the creature was enough to tell him that Harry Peverell was a powerful and very capable young wizard, and Dumbledore's curiosity increased. He did not have anything scheduled for the day, so he quickly scribbled a small note.

Looking at his faithful familiar, Dumbledore smiled and held it out.

"Fawkes, please take it to Harry Peverell and if possible, bring him here. I believe you can locate him?"

Fawkes trilled softly and grabbed the note before vanishing in a swirl of flames.

Dumbledore did not have to wait for long as another swirl of flames filled his vision, and he looked at the young lord for the first time.

The first thing he noticed was the absolute confidence the young man radiated as he looked at him with a smile. Standing tall and broad-shouldered, this was a warrior in the making. He had seen this in far too many wizards in his long life to recognize power and confidence, and this young man had both in abundance.

Gellert Grindelwald, himself, Charlus Potter, Arcturus Black, and even Tom Riddle, he recalled with a frown. All those wizards had a certain presence about them, and this young man radiated it without any restraint.

What was even more impressive was for this young man to be so remarkable at such a young age. He was a sixth-year, and even though Dumbledore had received his OWL results after contacting Griselda Marchbanks when he came to know that the young man had scheduled the exams on Friday, witnessing his commanding presence in person was a different experience altogether.

Dumbledore knew what it was – a show of strength in front of a powerful wizard like him. However, he could hardly fault the young man for it. He had been guilty of doing the same.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, an honor."

Dumbledore smiled and gestured for him to take a seat.

"Likewise, Lord Peverell. I must admit I had never expected to meet a Peverell, so your arrival was most definitely a surprise. However, I am sure you are not here for that, so let us get to why you requested this meeting."

Harry smiled and slid forward his OWL results.

"I would like to request a place in the sixth-year for the upcoming term. I have been homeschooled my entire life, and I would like to experience Hogwarts during my NEWTs."

Dumbledore smiled, and even though he did not need to, he looked at the results. They were truly nothing short of impressive.

"I believe it is quite easy for me to grant you a place at Hogwarts. Your results are among the best I have ever seen."

Harry smiled.

"Thank you. I appreciate it, headmaster, and I look forward to attending this legendary school."

Dumbledore smiled as he gazed at the young man looking around. Hogwarts certainly had that effect on anyone who came there, no matter who it was. However, he had a few questions of his own that he wanted to ask.

"If you would satiate an old man's curiosity, Lord Peverell. As far as I knew, the bloodline of the Peverells was absorbed into the Potter family when Iolanthe Peverell married Hardwin Potter. Thus, I hope you understand why I wonder how you happened to be who you are."

Harry chuckled. He had already created a backstory for anyone who might ask about his origins.

"Please call me Harry or even Mr Peverell when we are not in an official political setting, headmaster. And what you said is true," he nodded. "However, there is one small detail that is missing from what is known to the general public. You see, headmaster, Iolanthe gave birth to twins, and it was decided that one of them would lay claim to the House of Peverell. Hardwin agreed. During the centuries that followed, numerous cadet branches of the Potter family emerged and disintegrated, and once my ancestor split off, he changed his family name to Peverell. My ancestors have been living in secrecy ever since then and have never shown any interest in politics or wizarding society of whichever country they lived in. As for why they chose to split off and live in secrecy, I'm afraid that secret went with them to their graves."

Dumbledore nodded. He had thought something like this might have happened. It was not the first time a forgotten pureblood house had emerged out of nowhere. However, that raised another question, and he could not help but ask.

"Was there any reason why you finally came out of secrecy? You even claimed the lordship of the house, something that has not happened for centuries."

He frowned when a stormy expression came over the young man's face, and he was taken aback when he saw his magic swirling around him in waves. The power rolling off this young man was tremendous.

"Believe me, headmaster, I would not have done so in any other circumstances. However, I believed the time had come for the House of Peverell to reveal itself."

Dumbledore frowned. Whatever had happened must have been very serious for it to anger him so much. He recalled that the lordship had been claimed because this young man was the last of his line, and his eyes widened slightly.

He watched as the young man visibly calmed himself down and looked him right in the eye.

"Tell me headmaster, have you heard of a man who calls himself Voldemort?"

Dumbledore frowned. "I can't say I have."

"Now tell me, does the name Tom Marvolo Riddle ring a bell?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened.

Harry looked at him and nodded.

"Yes, the same Tom Marvolo Riddle who attended Hogwarts. Although he no longer goes by that name. He has coined himself another name – one that would make him feared by the masses."

Dumbledore listened in shock and watched the young man pull out his wand and trace the letters of Tom's name into the air. He was surprised to see the letters arrange themselves to read out 'I AM LORD VOLDEMORT'.

"The Tom Riddle who attended Hogwarts all those years ago has decided to tread down the path of death and destruction. My parents were his first victims. He killed them."

Dumbledore's eyes widened. Harry continued.

"You would know this man better than me. However, let me tell you what he truly wants. Voldemort is an evil psychopath who plans to subjugate the pureblood supremacists to rid this country of the muggleborns. He wants to incite a civil war in Wizarding Britain in order to consolidate as much power as he can. He doesn't care about pureblood supremacy. They are only a means to an end. Voldemort is the Dark Lord Wizarding Britain will face in the upcoming years who wants nothing but power, and he will stop at nothing until he has got it."

Dumbledore stared, horrified, at Harry Peverell who looked at him evenly. There was no doubt on this young man's face, and he could detect no deceit.

"He managed to somehow find us where we had been living in secrecy. He wanted something from my parents. However, instead of agreeing to his demands, they defied him. When he attacked, they did all they could until I could escape. They stood no chance, not in front of him."

Dumbledore stared hard at his table, his mind swirling with these revelations.

"You know what kind of person he is, headmaster," Harry said softly, and Dumbledore looked at him. Yes, he did. He knew exactly what kind of person Tom was, and he did not doubt that Harry here was telling the truth. However, the scale which he was talking about was shocking, to say the least.

"That is one of the biggest reasons why I took over the lordship. You know the social situation. Pureblood supremacists will flock over to him in an instant, and incomprehensible destruction will take place. I took over the lordship to form alliances. The lesser people who join him, the better it would be. I won't be surprised if he had already started to invite people to join him."

Dumbledore sighed and sat back.

"I must admit that I had not expected to have this conversation when I woke up today. Thank you for confiding in me, Mr Peverell. You have given me a lot to think about."

Harry nodded.

"You are probably the strongest wizard in Britain right now, and your help will be invaluable in defeating him. I fear entire houses might get eradicated when he starts his warfare," he said as he stood up. "I believe that concludes our business, headmaster. May I use your floo?"

Dumbledore nodded and watched as the young Peverell lord walked over to the fireplace before he vanished in an inferno of emerald flames.

Coldness gripped him as he stared there, pondering on the revelation that had taken place in his office this morning.

He had bad feelings about the boy ever since he had met him, and those feelings had only intensified as he watched him grow. Now, if Harry was to be believed, the same boy had become a madman with a severe lust for power who would stop at nothing until he quenched it.

With a heavy heart, Dumbledore questioned himself.

Had he played a role in the rise of a second dark lord?

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Chapter Text

Harry stood in front of the mirror as he finished getting ready for the dinner he had been invited to at #12 Grimmauld Place.

This would be his first time visiting the house and meeting the rest of the Blacks, and he could not help but wonder how this meeting would turn out.

He tried to recall what the family's condition was like at the moment. Andromeda had run away, having married Ted Tonks and already given birth to Tonks 2 years ago. Furthermore, if he recalled correctly, Sirius would be leaving his family in the summer of 1975 as well. That had either happened already or it would happen in the coming days.

Harry would bet on the latter. There was no way Arcturus and Charlus would be so cordial if Sirius had already been cast out.

Bellatrix and Narcissa – the twin sisters would both start their sixth year at Hogwarts, and he wondered whether he could sway the former away from the clutches of the dark. Loathsome as he found her to be, he had to admit that she was a very capable witch and would be a huge asset for his side.

Narcissa, on the other hand, had been nothing but a trophy wife for Lucius Malfoy and he did not know anything else about her. He would have to see what happened with her.

That left the adults, and honestly, he didn't feel like saving anyone. There were two male adults apart from Arcturus – Orion Black and Cygnus Black. Orion was a timid man and the oldest son of Arcturus while Cygnus was the caring father of Andromeda, Narcissa, and Bellatrix, who was the son of Arcturus' late brother Pollux.

Then came the women. First, there was Melania Black who was married to Arcturus and was a feeble woman who was expected to pass away in a couple of years. Her death had affected Arcturus severely. The man had taken it hard and had isolated himself in the property Harry had stayed in before making this time jump, and that was when things had gone south for the House of Black. That left Walburga and Druella. Thinking about the former made him seethe. She had wasted no time in taking charge of the family in Arcturus' absence after Melania's death and had brought about the destruction of the house. Druella was Cygnus' wife and a kind woman who had been devastated after the incident with Andromeda. Harry didn't think there was much he would need to concern himself with when it came to her.

All the adults apart from Arcturus and unfortunately Walburga had died in the initial stages of the war, and he had to somehow save as many of them as possible. No pressure.

Nodding to himself as he got ready, Harry decided against using the Floo and twisted on the spot. The familiar park outside #12 Grimmauld Place came into view and Harry crossed the road before knocking on the door.

A familiar face opened the door and Harry had to hold himself back from cursing the little shit.

"My lord," Kreacher rasped as he stepped aside, and Harry entered. The door closed behind him and the elf vanished. He took a few steps forward when someone turned the corner and walked toward him.

Harry could not help but stare at the young woman who approached him. Unlike the blacks, she had long, light blonde hair that came down to the middle of her back. A couple of strands framed her beautiful heart-shaped face with high cheekbones and a pair of grey orbs underneath thick eyelashes and delicate eyebrows that stared at him in interest.

Harry had seen Narcissa Malfoy once in passing, but Narcissa Black was an entirely different person. He could easily admit that he had never seen someone as beautiful as her. Not even the veela he had seen at the Quidditch World Cup or Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons Champion could compare, not in terms of the natural charm Narcissa exuded.

He didn't miss the way she had reacted to him, and couldn't help but feel thrilled at having evoked such a reaction from a beautiful woman like her. They smiled at each other, however, their eyes told different stories altogether. Attraction, at first sight, was a very common phenomenon, and it seemed the attraction was mutual. At least he wouldn't make an utter fool of himself if he approached her at a later date.

"Lord Peverell, I am Narcissa Black, the granddaughter of Lord Black. I humbly welcome you to the Black townhouse."

Harry took her hand and dropped a delicate kiss on the knuckle, relishing the soft smile on her face, before he straightened and looked her in the eyes.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Black," he replied. Narcissa smiled and together, they walked through the corridor to where Harry knew the living room was situated.

As they walked, he looked around, trying to observe how much the house had changed over the years. It looked like an entirely different place, with richly decorated walls and portraits adorned over them. Small chandeliers hung every few steps, casting the corridor in a golden glow. There was no troll leg for someone to fall over. The house was still richly decorated with snake motifs though, something Harry could not help but notice.

Shortly, they walked through the door to the living room, and Harry observed everyone gathered. He noted, to his surprise, that the Potters had already arrived and were sitting on the couch, with Charlus and Dorea sitting to Arcturus' right and his father sitting right beside them and talking to Sirius.

Harry stifled a pang in his heart as he laid his eyes on them for the first time. His Occlumency kept his emotions off his face.

"Lord Peverell, I'm glad you could make it," Arcturus said politely. Harry shook the man's hand and smiled.

"Please allow me to introduce my family. This is my wife Melania."

Harry took the woman's hand and dropped a soft kiss on her knuckle.

"My son Orion, his wife Walburga and their sons Sirius and Regulus."

Harry nodded as the four bowed, ignoring the arrogant sneer on Walburga's face. It seemed he was not the only one who noticed, as he saw Arcturus glare at her out of the corner of his eye.

Although Sirius was a fifth-year and looked like it, Regulus was nothing more than a child of twelve who would start his second year. Harry resolved to at least save the little kid.

He was also amused at seeing Sirius visibly frowning at having to bow to him. His godfather had never been a fan of pureblood etiquette.

Walburga bowing to him filled him with mirth. He knew how much she prided herself on being one of the highest stock, as she believed. He was looking forward to seeing her reaction when he told them that he was not a pureblood.

"My late brother's son Cygnus, his wife Druella and their twin daughters Narcissa and Bellatrix."

Harry had to control his raging emotions when he looked at Bellatrix. Even though she looked entirely different from when she had killed Sirius, he couldn't help but think of her like that. Her gothic attire and that maniacal gleam in her eyes were missing, and instead, she was dressed elegantly.

He chided himself for judging her based on the future. He was here to prevent it, and he knew he wanted Bellatrix on his side rather than on Voldemort's.

Harry smiled and nodded at the four as they bowed respectfully, and he was surprised to see how utterly similar Sirius and Bellatrix were in their reluctance to bow to him. Although he believed Bellatrix was more reluctant because of her pride.

"It is a pleasure to meet you all," he intoned sincerely, smiling.

"You have already met Charlus," Arcturus said as he looked at the Potter lord with a smile. Harry nodded as Charlus stepped forward.

"A pleasure to meet you again, Lord Peverell. Allow me to introduce my wife Dorea and my heir James."

Somehow, Harry managed to keep himself composed as he greeted the pair. His eyes took in everything they could about them. His grandmother was a Black through and through. Her long dark hair was tied in an intricate braid and swept over her left shoulder, and she had the same grey eyes that almost all the members of the House of Black shared. Standing straight and as prim as one could, she radiated utter confidence. Harry did not doubt that she was a very capable witch who could hold her own in a fight.

"A pleasure to meet you all," he smiled.

Dorea smiled at him while James looked bored. Harry chuckled to himself. It seemed his father and Sirius were cut from the same cloth.

"I believe we should take this to the dining room. If you would follow, Lord Peverell," Arcturus said. Harry nodded and together, they walked to the dining room. Harry saw Arcturus take a seat at the head of the table.

He was asked to sit on his right, with Charlus taking the seat opposite him, followed by Dorea and James. Despite his mother's glare, Sirius walked over and sat on his father's other side. Harry had to stifle a smirk at the older woman's ire. What else did she expect after abusing her son for years?

Orion Black sat beside him, followed by his wife and Regulus, who had been giving Harry looks of interest ever since he had seen him. Regulus was joined by Cygnus Black and his wife while his daughters sat opposite them beside Sirius. Melania Black took the other end of the table.

"I am sure I am not the only one who is curious about the main line of the House of Peverell surviving," Arcturus began. Beside him, Charlus nodded.

"It did surprise me as well. All available records state that the house was absorbed into mine when Iolanthe Peverell married Hardwin Potter," the lord of the House of Potter intoned with a curious gaze directed at him.

Harry smiled. He had expected people to be inquisitive, and he repeated the answer he had given to Dumbledore. It was a very easily believable story indeed, and he smirked to himself when no one even batted an eye. Arcturus had indeed been right. The ring on his finger was proof enough.

"Truly goes to show how much might be forgotten or left undiscovered," Charlus said before he smiled at him. "That does make us family though."

Harry could not help but smile back.

"Indeed, Lord Potter. To be honest, I was looking forward to meeting you when I took up the lordship. As you said, we are family. I do not have mine, so I would like to cherish whatever I might have left."

Beside him, Dorea smiled. "Family doesn't bother with honorifics. You may call us by our names."

"Then it's fair if you do the same with me as well."

The Blacks stared at this little development with either a sneer or surprise. However, Harry saw Arcturus chuckle.

"Well, good for you, I believe. Although that doesn't explain why you came out of secrecy now, Lord Peverell. If I'm not wrong, you claimed the lordship under the Doctrine of Ultima Linea."

Harry sighed.

"That should tell you enough, Lord Black. Indeed, I am the last of the direct line of House Peverell, and as such, it made sense for me to claim my lordship. There are a few other matters which I need to deal with, and it required me to bring the House of Peverell out of secrecy."

Frowns spread across the table at his statement, and Harry saw a few eyes looking at him inquisitively.

Arcturus nodded. "It must be something serious if you decided to come out after centuries."

Harry sighed. "I would love to discuss more at a later date if you are open to it."

He saw Arcturus exchange a look with Charlus, who nodded. A few minutes of silence followed as they indulged in the delicious dinner, and the only sound echoing around the dining hall was that of cutlery.

"I heard you took your OWLs the other day," Charlus remarked after almost everyone was done. Finished with his dinner, Harry put the knife and fork on his plate and nodded.

"I've been homeschooled, but I have decided to attend Hogwarts for my NEWTs."

"Indeed? That is good. James and Sirius here will be taking their OWLs in a year, and Cygnus' girls took their OWLs a few months ago," the man replied.

Harry nodded, looking over at the pair of girls who were looking at him in interest. His eyes rested on Narcissa for a moment and he gave a small smile.

"It's good to know that I'll have a few familiar faces to share classes with," he remarked, keeping his eyes on Narcissa, and he smiled to himself when the young woman looked down at her plate with a small smile on her face. He didn't miss the smirk on Bellatrix's face either.

"I doubt homeschooling would've aided you much," a snide voice spoke up suddenly, and Harry felt the mood around the dining room plummet. He turned to the side and saw Walburga looking at him with a sneer, and couldn't help but wonder if she had a few screws loose. Who tried to antagonize a guest without any reason and one from a prominent house at that?

He chuckled, and even though he didn't like to brag, he couldn't stop himself this one time. "Believe me, my instructors were quite thorough. Eight Outstandings and two Exceeds Expectations should be enough proof."

Eyes shot open around the table, and he saw everyone looking at him with interest.

"Merlin's tits, ten OWLs!" Sirius blurted out.

"Mind your foul tongue, you little bastard," Walburga hissed.

"Walburga!" Lord Black snarled. "You should mind your tongue before lecturing others. And Sirius, steady with the language."

Sirius glared at his mother with utter loathing and Harry saw James mirror his look.

Walburga scowled at Arcturus before glaring at her eldest.

"Apologies, Lord Peverell," Orion Black said from beside him. Harry waved it away. He truly couldn't help but feel sorry for the man.

"Ten OWLs are indeed impressive. Which electives did you take?" Dorea asked after giving Walburga another glare. Harry smiled.

"Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes."

James whistled softly.

"Beyond impressive. Congratulations, Lord Peverell. I assume you will continue all ten subjects?" Charlus asked with a small smile.

Harry shook his head. "I've never had much interest in History or Astronomy, so I will drop those two and continue with the eight I got the best grades in."

Arcturus nodded.

"Well, I wish you the best for your NEWTs. With results of pureblood students falling in the recent years, Merlin knows we need them doing well. Perhaps you could serve as an example to some."

Harry guessed it was as good a time as any, and with a small smirk at James and Sirius who looked at him in confusion, he said with a straight face.

"Oh, I'm not a pureblood."

The dining room went utterly silent as everyone apart from a certain few stared at him in shock. He noticed the reactions, and to his surprise, Narcissa and Bellatrix gave him a nod and a shrug respectively before going back to their dinner. He had certainly not expected it. Sirius and James were looking at him with wide eyes, and Harry chuckled to himself. He knew they didn't give a fuck about the purity of blood and were simply shocked that he had said it knowing what he was doing. Unbeknownst to him, that earned him a few well-deserved points in their books.

Dorea and Charlus smiled at him, totally uncaring of his blood status. Melania and Druella simply nodded, almost as if they couldn't concern themselves with this little tidbit. However, the other members of the House of Black were not so accepting. Arcturus, Orion, and Cygnus had similar frowns on their faces. He sighed to himself. Arcturus had been an advocate of the purity of blood and truly believed that their bloodlines should be kept pure. However, he had never been a fanatic who discriminated against those of lesser blood, as the half-bloods and muggleborns were generally considered.

The frown on the man's face seemed to be stemmed from his disappointment that he was not a pureblood, as he had believed him to be. Nothing more than that.

However, it was Walburga whose reaction Harry was looking forward to the most. He was not surprised to see the woman on the verge of exploding.

"You are not a pureblood?" Arcturus asked. Harry shook his head.

"My mother was a muggleborn. I'm a half-blood."

"Filth!" Walburga suddenly stood up and shouted as she glared at Harry before she pointed an accusing finger at Arcturus, who looked at her in surprise. "You brought filth into this house! What kind of lord are you!? And you!" She rounded on Harry again with a furious glare. "How dare you sully the House of Black with your filthy blood! Begone! Begone at the instant!"

Harry stared at her disinterestedly. Now he understood where her portrait had got its charming personality from.

"Walburga!" Arcturus roared as he stood up. "Apologize to Lord Peverell right this instant!"

Walburga glared back. "I refuse to even acknowledge filth, let alone apologize."

Orion Black grabbed his wife's hand to stop her. However, she shook it off with a glare. The man sat back with a sigh. Harry frowned. The man didn't even bother with his wife anymore.

"I thought I told you to go away," she glared at Harry.

"Enough!" Arcturus seethed. "This is not your house, Walburga. You are not a Black, you are a Burke who married into this family. Never forget that. You don't have any power or command over this family, and let me tell you right now, you never will. Sirius is my heir and he shall take up the lordship. You shall never be the Lady Black."

Walburga glared murderously.

"That little bastard deserves nothing more than death for the shame he had brought upon the House of Black," she hissed, conveniently forgetting that Sirius was already sitting in front of her and looking angrier and angrier with every moment that passed. "If anyone deserves to be your heir, it's my Regulus, not some mudblood-loving fool. Filthy blood traitor."

Everyone watched in shock as the chair clattered to the floor and Sirius stood up, glaring furiously at his mother who stared at him with utter disdain.

"You should have died birthing Regulus, you fucking hag!" He snarled. "Mind my words. The day you do, I'll get smashed as fuck and paint your grave with my piss. That's all you deserve. I've had enough of you. Keep your lordship and shove it up your ass. I don't give a rat's fuck. I hope you die a painful death, Walburga. Andi was right in running away from this accursed house. Bigoted bitch."

"Run away and die then, you swine! That would be the best thing to happen to all of us," Walburga retorted with a malicious snarl.

Sirius glared at the woman. "Maybe I will."

Everyone watched in shock as Sirius turned around and stormed out of the room.

"Padfoot!" James shouted and ran off after him. Dorea and Charlus looked at each other before he nodded and rushed after them, leaving her to look at Arcturus in concern.

The lord of House Black was glaring at the woman, and if looks could kill, she would've dropped dead on the spot already.

"Orion," he gritted out. "Take your wife away to the house in Kent. You will be living there from now on. Your belongings will be sent there shortly. Make sure she never shows her face here again. I don't know what I'll do if I ever see her. She is forbidden from interacting with any other member of House Black apart from you and Regulus, and each member of House Black apart from the two of you is forbidden from ever interacting with her. It is only for young Regulus' sake that I'm not casting her out of the family."

Orion Black quickly stood up and grabbed his wife's hand. His other held his younger son's hand who was staring at everything in shock. Harry felt for the boy. He didn't deserve to see it.

"You have also become a Blood Traitor, Arcturus Black. How the mighty House of Black has fallen," she shouted as she was led away. "I hope you also die a painful death!"

Everyone watched as the three vanished in an inferno and Harry turned to look at a seething Arcturus Black who was still glaring at the fireplace.

"My apologies, Lord Black. If I knew this would happen, I wouldn't have said it."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Harry," Dorea said firmly as she glared at the fireplace which they had just vanished from. "It's that terrible woman who should be apologizing to everyone, and most of all to you and Arcturus."

Arcturus slammed his hand on the table.

"I am repeating myself, and you lot better take this seriously. If even one person interacts with that woman, you better pray I don't come to know of it. Walburga will be banished from this family once Regulus takes his OWLs, and I won't hesitate in banishing anyone who defies this command either," Arcturus snarled before he looked at Harry and forced himself to calm down.

"Please accept my sincere apologies, Lord Peverell. I must assure you that her opinions do not represent the stance of House Black even remotely. We do care about the purity of blood and upholding the traditions of our ancestors, but contrary to what has been portrayed here today, our house is not one comprising of fanatics who discriminate against half-blood or muggleborn witches and wizards."

Harry was quick to reassure the man.

"Apology accepted, Lord Black. And I ask you not to worry about it. I've had my fair share of bad relatives and I know their views don't reflect all of us."

Arcturus nodded with a sigh. "I believe we all need some rest after the ordeal. I wish things had not turned out the way they did."

Harry nodded. "I should be going now as well. Despite what happened, please know I hold no ill will toward your family at large, however, I must admit that I won't be having any sympathy for whatever happens to that woman."

Arcturus released a deep breath and nodded. "You don't need to explain, my lord. I am perfectly capable of understanding you. After all, I am the lord of an Ancient and Noble House as well, and I know I would've been much more unforgiving had I been in your shoes."

Harry sighed and gave a small nod as he shook the man's hand before he turned around. He nodded at Cygnus Black and his wife, who nodded back respectfully. Looking at Bellatrix, he had to hold back a chuckle when she rolled her eyes and smirked.

Finally, he exchanged a look with Narcissa who looked at him with an apologetic frown. He nodded with a reassuring smile. The blonde sighed and nodded back.

"Walk with me, Harry."

He turned to the side and saw Dorea looking at him with a gentle smile. Elated at the prospect of spending some time with his grandmother, Harry nodded and held his arm out. She placed her hand on his and they walked out together.

Arcturus sighed and watched as Cygnus and his family left for the fireplace before he looked over at his wife who was staring at the table with a frown. Her illness had worsened over the past year, and he feared she was not long for this world. Orion was a lost cause, and now Sirius had also decided to run away. He knew his grandson well enough to know that there was no changing his mind now, no matter how much anyone tried. Not for the first time, he wondered how he would manage to keep his fragmented family intact.

-Break-

"Walburga has always been a terrible person, but she crossed the line today," Dorea muttered as they walked upstairs. Harry sighed.

"I feel sorry for her husband and her sons. I'd never thought a mother could feel about her son like that," he replied honestly.

Dorea grimaced. "Sirius has not had a happy childhood. It is a wonder he turned out such a gentle young soul."

Harry had to agree. His godfather might have been an impulsive asshole in his youth, but he was one of the most remarkable men he had ever known.

"It would be another period of hardship for my brother," Dorea continued, and Harry looked at her.

"What do you mean?"

Dorea sighed. "About three years ago, Cygnus' eldest daughter Andromeda ran away from the family to marry the man she loved. The Blacks don't marry anyone apart from another pureblood, and he was a muggleborn. No one agreed to the match, and she eloped with him. Walburga had been frothing at the mouth when it happened, and ever since then, she had been particularly intolerant of those she considers inferior to her.

"When Andromeda left, Arcturus had no choice but to cast her out. The honor of the family name compelled him to do it. He believed if he bowed to the whims of a young girl, the name of the Blacks would be dragged down into the mud. I know how much it had pained him to do it. No one in the family is allowed to interact with her, and I hope he doesn't do the same to Sirius. The boy is impulsive, but he is still the heir to the family. And I firmly believe that he would make an excellent Lord Black."

"Will he take the lordship though?" Harry asked tentatively. "He seems determined to run away and forego any right he has to the House of Black."

Dorea sighed.

"He is angry right now. Once his anger has cooled down and he starts to think with a clear mind, he will come around. Underneath that exterior, he is an intelligent young boy."

Harry didn't have too much hope of that happening, but he didn't voice his thoughts out loud. Even after escaping Azkaban, Sirius had nothing but utter disdain for his family and his mother in particular. The only reason Sirius had even lived in #12 Grimmauld Place after escaping Azkaban was because of the protection the house provided to him. Harry didn't think he would be very accepting of the lordship anytime soon.

"Well, for the sake of House Black, I hope he does come around," he replied, sighing.

They stepped off the stairs once they reached the third floor and walked over to Sirius' room. Dorea knocked on the door softly. A familiar face pulled it open and they entered together.

Sirius was in the middle of packing everything he owned into his Hogwarts trunk, and he quickly stopped once he saw who had come in.

"Are you done?"

Sirius nodded and quickly shoved everything inside before he tapped his wand against the rune inscribed on the trunk. Picking up the shrunken trunk, he put it in his pocket. Dorea looked at him critically and nodded.

"Come on then."

They walked out of the room and quickly went downstairs, where Lord Black was waiting for them at the fireplace. Sirius saw his grandfather looking at him sternly and he grimaced.

"Look me in the eye, young man," Arcturus instructed. Sirius looked up.

"You are a Black, Sirius. No matter how much you might deny it, the truth won't change. Your blood won't change. You may go now, but you must never run away from your responsibilities. The lordship of the Ancient and Noble House of Black will fall to you after me. No one can do anything to change it, least of all that vapid woman. She has no power over anything. I would have cast her out of the family had Regulus been a few years older. Alas, I cannot do it right now."

Sirius stared at his grandfather with an expressionless face, who nodded and looked toward his sister.

"Take care of this one, Dorea. I'll be in your debt."

Dorea shook her head.

"You tell me you owe me, and I inform you that you owe me nothing. You know I'll do it regardless. How many have you granted me? Sixteen? No, eighteen, including this one. And it's the eighteenth time I'm telling you that you owe me nothing."

Arcturus smiled at his sister as he returned her hug. "That is why I grant them to you. I know you'll never ask for anything. Goodnight, and Lord Peverell, I hope our next meeting will end much pleasantly."

Harry smiled. "I look forward to it, my lord."

The man looked around and nodded at everyone before he walked away.

"He is a good man," Harry remarked once Arcturus was gone. Charlus sighed as he clapped him on the shoulder.

"I would like it very much to get to know you better, Harry. Perhaps you could come visit us at Potter Manor every so often until Hogwarts starts? You could also socialize with James and Sirius here. I know they are a year younger, but I'm sure that won't be any problem."

Harry smiled gently. He would be a fool to refuse an opportunity to spend quality time with his family.

"I'll be there," he replied. "I'm also looking forward to getting to know my remaining family better."

He was surprised when Dorea gave him a soft hug, and he shakingly hugged her back.

"You don't need to hide your pain, my boy. Your eyes scream it out," she said as she pulled back and stroked his cheek softly. Harry stared at her with wide eyes.

Dorea smiled. "You'll have a family with us for as long as you want, Harry. Come over whenever you feel like it. After all, you are a Potter as well."

Harry could only nod shakily as she smiled and walked inside the floo. He continued to stare ahead as James and Sirius nodded at him before they were gone as well.

"Anytime tomorrow, Harry," Charlus said with a smile as he clapped him on the back and Harry watched as he vanished inside the emerald fire of the floo.

Overwhelmed with emotions, Harry quickly walked out of the Black townhouse and apparated away with a faint pop. His feet found the floor of his bedroom in Peverell Manor and he quickly discarded his robes before getting under the covers.

Try as he might, he couldn't stop the tears that broke free as he went to sleep.

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Chapter Text

Harry had spent the entire morning deliberating on when to visit the Potters, even forgetting to complete his practices.

He had been looking forward to visiting the manor and getting to know his father and his grandparents a little better. However, the way the previous night had ended made him more emotional than he would have thought.

Harry did not remember the last time he had cried himself to sleep. Perhaps the night when he had returned from the ministry, he thought darkly.

It was half past 12 when he finally decided to visit the Potters. It was late enough and yet left him with enough time to spend with them. If they wanted him to come earlier the next time, he was sure they would tell him. As far as he had figured it out, his grandparents were very open with their thoughts, and he did not need to search for any hidden meanings behind their words. If there was something, he was sure they would state it explicitly.

He had dreamed of this moment ever since he had first seen them in the Mirror of Erised back in his first year at Hogwarts. Initially, he had recognized only his mother and father. However, as time passed, he figured out that the other two figures were his grandparents. The only difference was that he would meet his father who was now younger than him. He chuckled to himself at that. Things surely worked out mysteriously.

He recalled everything he knew about them. His grandmother had been a field healer in the war against Grindelwald and had treated his grandfather's severe wounds after the final battle. They had fallen in love during the war and had married a few years later.

It had been a complicated married life for them. Although they loved each other dearly and supported one another every step of the way, it was marred with unsuccessful pregnancies and his father was born quite late. However, that did not deter them from raising him with all the love they had.

He had met them both, and he could say with absolute certainty that both his grandparents were immensely powerful.

Not for the first time, Harry wondered whether he could tell them who he truly was. He was sure they would keep it a secret. However, he decided against it. As he had thought previously, he did not want the knowledge of the future to influence their decisions and worsen any situation that might arise. He was here to mitigate any unforeseen circumstances, and if push came to shove, then and only then would he tell them who he was and the timeline he had come from. Until then, he would form a relationship with them as Harry Peverell, a distant relative and possibly a nephew or cousin.

He knew that as a family they would ask some tough questions – questions that would be more personal than he had been asked so far, his conversation with Dumbledore notwithstanding. However, he had already decided what and how much he would tell them. He could not forget his primary objective in this timeline and the actions he would need to undertake to accomplish said objective. His grandfather's help would be invaluable in that regard, and who else could he trust more implicitly than his blood?

Harry walked over to the fireplace in the foyer of Peverell Manor and grabbed a handful of floo powder as he got inside.

"Potter Manor!" He intoned clearly.

-Break-

Harry vanished in an emerald inferno, only to emerge from another fireplace, and quickly stepped out.

As he caught his bearings, he looked around at the richly decorated room. A massive gold chandelier hung from the ceiling, and Harry thought there must be over a thousand mirrors embedded in that thing which reflected the light from the lamps that hung off the walls on all four sides. The walls were painted a light cream and they glowed brightly under the reflected lights. Expensive rugs covered the floor near each wall, and he saw a couple of chairs lined in front of the window that overlooked the entire grassy expanse of the garden outside.

He was visibly impressed. Potter Manor was truly a vision.

"It seems the wards recognize the Potter blood in your veins," a deep voice came from one of the chairs, and Harry smiled at the man as he stood up and came over. He thought a handshake would do, but he was surprised when the man pulled him into a firm hug. He was not complaining and returned the hug happily.

"Handshakes are for allies, business associates, political colleagues and strangers. Not for family."

Harry smiled and nodded.

"Come on then, they must be waiting for you. But before that, vanish that soot from your robes. Dorea gets mad when we dirty the rugs," Charlus whispered. Harry chuckled and quickly waved his hand to get rid of any dirt he had on his person.

Charlus looked at him appreciatively. "You truly have impressive control over your magic."

"I had good teachers," he replied honestly.

Charlus nodded, and together, they walked through the door and into the living room of Potter Manor, where Dorea was sitting with James and Sirius. The woman looked over when they entered, and Harry relished the bright smile that came over her face at the sight of him. He didn't think he'd ever get tired of seeing her smile like that at him.

"Harry! You took your time coming here, didn't you?" Dorea said as she stood up, and gave him a soft hug when he got closer. James and Sirius looked up from their notes and grinned at him.

"Come on, sit here," she said and made him sit on the couch. Harry saw James and Sirius push their notes to the side as Charlus took his seat beside Dorea and looked at him.

"Let me start by saying that if you want to join the Marauders, you have a spot," James quickly said before anyone else. Harry looked at him with feigned confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

James and Sirius snickered. "You're a cheeky bastard, Peverell."

"James! That is no way of talking to…"

"It's fine, Dorea. It's only a jest," Harry quickly reassured her, before looking at the boys. "And what's the marauders?"

"Harry," Dorea began with a sigh. "You truly don't want to be involved with these two. They will corrupt you as well."

"Ha! As if we've ever corrupted anyone!" Sirius retorted. "We are upstanding purveyors of magical mischief makers. It is quite a tedious endeavor, I'll have you know."

Dorea deadpanned, "You are notorious pranksters who get points docked every week. I have full faith in your ability to set a Hogwarts record for most points docked by the time you graduate."

"Ignore mum," James said quickly as he looked at Harry, ignoring the stink eye his mother gave him. "For the hilarious prank you pulled yesterday, you deserve a spot with us more than anyone."

"I'll bite," Charlus said. "What prank are you talking about?"

Harry chuckled along with James and Sirius.

"See, he knows what we're talking about," Sirius said before he sobered up quickly.

Harry sighed. "Alright, let me tell you. I had a hunch that I would crack someone's mask when I admitted that I was not a pureblood. Guess I was right."

Charlus and Dorea sighed as one.

"Whatever your intention might have been, that was one hilarious prank. Although the results were unexpected, but that doesn't matter," Sirius remarked as he leaned back. "For years I've wanted her to say it out loud so that everyone could know how vile she truly is. Thanks for doing that."

Charlus exchanged a look with Dorea, who shook her head with a small sigh.

"Forget about that woman," Dorea said as she looked at Harry with a smile. "Tell us about yourself a bit, Harry. We'd love to know more about you."

Harry saw that everyone was interested in knowing more about him, and thus he began to tell the story he had crafted for himself.

"Well, I already told you how the Peverell bloodline separated from the Potters and how I came to claim the lordship, which reminds me," he looked at Charlus as he said that, "the test at the archives showed me as the Heir secondary to the House of Potter. Seems I do have enough Potter blood in my veins."

Charlus chuckled.

"Now, I have been homeschooled for all my life. We had been living in secrecy for as long as I can remember. My instructors were my parents and a few tutors who I cannot name due to secrecy oaths. They all were very capable teachers and I learned a lot from them."

"That is quite easy to see," Charlus said.

"What Dad said. I mean, getting 10 OWLs is no joke, and an O in almost all of them," James remarked. Harry smiled at them.

"I know it might be a bit difficult to answer," Dorea began softly. "Can you tell us about your parents?"

Harry smiled sadly.

"They were the best parents I could have ever asked for," he said softly. "My father loved my mother ever since they were kids, and they both loved me more than life itself. That's what I remember the most about them."

Everyone frowned at him, and Harry continued with a small sigh.

"Remember when you asked why I took up the lordship and came out of secrecy now after all these years? Well, that is because my parents were murdered by a dark wizard."

James and Sirius visibly recoiled and Harry saw Charlus and Dorea look at each other with wide eyes.

"What happened?" Dorea asked in a whisper. Harry stared into the distance.

"House Peverell has so many secrets that even the members of the house didn't know each one of them. This dark wizard managed to discover where we had been living and he attacked us. My best assumption is that he was after something. My parents defied him, and he didn't hesitate in retaliating with force. My parents were a very capable pair. However, he managed to overcome them. They held him off until I could somehow escape with my life. They didn't want the main bloodline of the Peverells to die out."

"Do you know who this wizard is?" Charlus asked firmly. "I'll make Alastor Moody rally the entire auror force if I have to and we'd bring this criminal to justice."

He was surprised when Harry chuckled mirthlessly.

"If only it were so simple," he sighed.

Over the next fifteen minutes, Harry explained who Voldemort was, what his origins were, what his intention was, and what Wizarding Britain could expect if they didn't take steps to ensure he was not stopped.

"And that is my primary reason for taking up the lordship and joining the Wizengamot. We need to unite as many people together as we can so that we can stop him. You can count on the notoriously dark families to join him at the first opportunity. When you have enemies on the inside, that is when it becomes a massive problem. The death and destruction such a civil war would bring would be unprecedented."

Ashen faces greeted him when he was finished, and Harry stared at them all with a solemn look on his face.

"Fucking hell," James whispered, and such was the shock that Dorea didn't even react.

"I know a few people who would eagerly jump to join this cunt's bandwagon," Sirius muttered darkly.

"Okay, that is enough with this language," Dorea said firmly as she finally caught her bearings. Sirius sighed.

"This man is truly the descendant of Salazar Slytherin?" Charlus asked, frowning when Harry nodded.

"That would be trouble. You can count on most of the Slytherin alumni and current students to be more sympathetic to his cause simply because of that," Dorea informed before she rubbed her hand over her temple in exasperation. "What a mess."

Harry nodded. "I'll give it two years at the maximum before he goes on the offensive, perhaps even earlier. He will soon start to approach purebloods to join his cause, if he hasn't already."

"Well, he'll find no support from me or my allies, that is for sure," Charlus declared firmly. Harry nodded, hoping that the man was right.

"Enough with this morose topic. No matter how serious it is, I'd rather you talk about something else," Dorea interjected firmly, and everyone nodded.

"I have a question. Since you're coming to Hogwarts, which house do you think you'll be in?" Sirius asked.

James chuckled. "Will balls like his, where else can he be but in Gryffindor?"

"James!" Dorea warned. James simply grinned.

Harry smiled. "I truly don't believe your house defines who you are. There must have been Gryffindors who cowered in front of any adversity they might have encountered, or Ravenclaws who thought they were knowledgeable enough but turned out to be frauds. Even Hufflepuffs who stabbed their friends in the back or Slytherins who decided to sacrifice themselves to save someone else. It is not your Hogwarts house that defines you, but your actions and choices."

Charlus and Dorea smiled approvingly. "Well said, Harry."

"Whatever. You'll be a Gryffindor. The Potter inside you demands you to."

Harry chuckled at James' retort. The more time he spent with them, the easier it had become for him to separate the boy from the man his father would grow into. Perhaps it would be right if he considered them friends instead of his father and godfather instead. They were completely different persons after all.

"Is that so?" Dorea asked with faux sweetness as she glared at her son. "I am a Potter too, and I was sorted into Slytherin."

"Yeah, one exception is fine. We don't want it becoming the norm," James said dismissively. Harry chuckled.

They sat there talking about inconsequential things for a while, and for the first time in so long, Harry let himself relax. The cloud of his revelation still hung over the Potter household, but they tried their best to not let it affect them.

Dorea and Charlus had already moved to take care of a few chores, leaving Harry with James and Sirius. Safe to say, he hit it off with the pair in no time.

"You play Quidditch, mate?" James asked.

Harry smirked. "Seeker."

"Let's see what you're made of then," the dark-haired boy grinned and they walked over to the broom shed. Harry sighed when he saw a few old Cleansweep models. He would have to make do with these for a while. Picking one he liked, Harry walked out and saw James holding a practice snitch.

"I'm a chaser and Sirius is a beater, so we won't be competing. However, you can try and catch this regulation snitch. Let's see how quickly you manage."

Harry nodded and quickly mounted his broom. The balance and the speed both were slightly off and he had to calibrate the broom to his preference. Once he had gotten the hang of it, he nodded toward James who smirked and released the snitch.

Immediately, the golden ball vanished in front of their eyes and Harry rose higher, his eyes darting around in the afternoon sun to spot the glint of gold.

He didn't have to wait for long as he saw the snitch hovering under the tree at the far end of the garden and he immediately shot toward it.

"Look at him go," Sirius said with a whistle. James nodded with a grin as they saw Harry tear through the grounds on the Cleansweep. That broom was not known for its speed. However, it seemed Harry defied the odds. The boys were sure this was the fastest they had ever seen a Cleansweep in action.

"He's going to collide with that tree if he keeps on going like that," James muttered. Harry was indeed on a collision course with the tree, however, by now he had a fair idea of how a snitch reacted when cornered.

True to his prediction, the snitch swerved to the left and shot upward. Harry immediately pressed his advantage, almost drifting in the air before he angled himself perfectly and was hot on the chase once again.

"Did you see that!?" Sirius exclaimed wide-eyed, staring at Harry who was gaining speed and slowly but surely closing in on the snitch. James had a wide grin on his face as he stared at this magnificent bastard who leaned forward and snatched the snitch out of thin air.

"I certainly did. No way he's going anywhere but Gryffindor. Those seeker skills are what we sorely need," James replied with a smirk as he watched Harry dismount and walk over to them, the squirming snitch clasped firmly in his fist.

"You better choose Gryffindor, Peverell. We'd hate to have your skills wasted on an undeserving team," James remarked as soon as Harry came over.

"Need a seeker, do you?" Harry asked with a smirk. James exchanged a look with Sirius.

"Badly. So you better get sorted into Gryffindor. I won't have it any other way," James said demandingly, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle.

"Well then, I'll have to make sure I do as you wish. Now get your asses up in the air. I wanna see what you two are made of as well," Harry retorted as he mounted his broom once again and kicked off, hovering in front of them.

James and Sirius exchanged smirks.

"Oh, you're so on, Peverell."

-Break-

"I'm being very serious though, I'd really prefer not to play against you," Charlus heard James remark as the boys came back after almost an hour outside.

"He's that good?"

James quickly looked over at his father and nodded.

"Bastard managed to beat me in a drag, if you can believe it!"

"James!" The stern voice of Dorea Potter sounded out as she entered, glaring at her son. "That is no way to address your cousin!"

"It's fine," Harry dismissed it with a chuckle as he joined them alongside Sirius who hadn't stopped raving about bringing righteous judgment on those slimy Slytherins. Harry found his young godfather quite amusing, and he had to marvel at the fact that the young man didn't let the events of the previous evening affect him. It seemed as if he couldn't care less. Harry was happy with that. Walburga Black should have no effect on Sirius' mental health.

Dorea sighed. "It's time for lunch. Come on," she told them, and they smiled as they walked over to the dining table where lunch had already been laid out. Charlus and Dorea took their seats side by side, with the Potter lord sitting at the head of the table. James and Sirius sat on one side, leaving Harry to take his seat beside his grandmother.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Dig in," Dorea prompted.

Harry looked at a proper family meal for the second time, having eaten only once at the Weasley household before his second year. However, this was different. He was among family. Smiling, he grabbed everything he liked.

"Where have you been living, Harry?" Dorea asked as they ate, and Harry swallowed before looking at her.

"Peverell Manor. I bought it a few days ago with the help of Alastair Greengrass. My old home is no more, and Merlin knows we need all the protection we might get with how things are going to develop soon."

Everyone sobered up at the reminder, and Harry frowned.

"Apologies. I shouldn't talk about it during the meal."

"It's alright, Harry," Charlus reassured him with a smile. "What do you do all day? It must get boring."

Harry chuckled. "It truly doesn't. I spend my entire day practicing spells and working on my magic and mind arts. I also have a lovely companion who demands quite a lot of attention."

"You spend the entire day practicing your spellwork?" Dorea asked surprised. Harry nodded.

"I need to be ready for when the time comes."

They frowned but nodded in understanding.

"How advanced are you in the mind arts?" James asked curiously. Dorea frowned.

"That is a bit personal, James. You don't have to answer, Harry."

Harry waved her away. He didn't have to hide it from these people.

"It's fine. I am proficient in both Occlumency and Legilimency. Currently, I only reinforce my abilities."

"That is impressive," Charlus remarked. Harry smiled.

"You said something about a lovely companion?" Sirius asked with a teasing grin. "A lovely lady perhaps?"

Dorea looked at Sirius disapprovingly while James and Charlus snickered. Harry smirked.

"She is a lovely lady indeed. Would you like to meet her?" Harry asked, grinning when he saw Sirius looking at him eagerly.

"Sure. Every lovely lady should know what a catch Sirius Black is, no offense of course," Sirius replied. Harry nodded.

"Alright Luna, come on and show Sirius some love," Harry said with a smirk.

"What the fuck!" Sirius shouted in alarm when suddenly, a dark wolf pounced on him out of nowhere and sent him tumbling to the floor.

"Ow!" Sirius grunted and quickly looked up when he heard a growl. His eyes shot open. "Gah!"

The Potters were looking at the scene in shock while Harry sat back with a satisfied smirk on his face.

"Isn't she beautiful, Sirius? Go on, tell her what a catch you are," he encouraged the boy, who flinched when Luna leaned forward and stared menacingly into his eyes.

Taking pity on the boy, Harry instructed Luna to leave him, and everyone watched as she trotted up to Harry and leaned her head in his lap. Harry started to stroke her behind the ear.

"That's a shadow wolf," Charlus said in wonder. Harry smiled at them and nodded.

"I found her in less than savory conditions, and didn't think twice. She's become my dear friend in the short time we've known each other."

The Potters nodded, still staring fascinatingly at the magnificent creature who had already noticed the attention she was getting and preened.

"Yeah, she's a proud little thing too," Harry chuckled as he stroked her soft fur. He watched Sirius getting up before taking his seat, staring at Luna with apprehensive eyes.

"What happened?" Harry asked innocently. James smirked.

"I guess Padfoot realized he doesn't want to be a catch afterall," he teased.

"Shut up, Prongs," Sirius muttered.

Charlus and Dorea chuckled before the latter looked at him with a smile.

"May I?" She asked, and Harry quickly leaned back. Dorea slowly stroked Luna behind the ear, smiling when the wolf rumbled softly.

"Shadow wolves are very loyal to their companions," Charlus remarked. Harry nodded.

"You have no idea how much I had to keep reassuring her last evening when… you know… She wanted to tear that woman's throat out," he replied.

"Would've been a good riddance in my opinion. That bitch," Sirius muttered.

"Sirius," Dorea warned sternly, and the boy sat back, abashed. "She might be an evil woman but you don't need to reciprocate her hatred, dear. Don't let her hold so much power over you, I've told you this many times."

"Yes, Aunt Dorea," Sirius said as he went back to his lunch.

"Don't let Hagrid see her," James said mirthfully, quickly changing the mood as he looked at Harry. "You'll never get rid of him if you do. He's the gamekeeper at Hogwarts. Man's crazy about magical creatures."

Harry chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind."

"What does she eat, by the way?" Sirius asked as he looked at Luna, flinching slightly when she looked over at him. He could swear the wolf was giving him a smug grin.

"She sustains herself on magic," Harry replied. "However, she won't say no to some meat every once in a while."

Sirius nodded. "Magical creatures sure are fascinating."

"Merlin you sound like Hagrid," James sighed. Harry chuckled. He did sound like Hagrid.

-Break-

It was evening and Harry was still at Potter Manor. Currently, he was with James and Sirius inside the former's room. It was an odd experience, being inside his teenage father's bedroom.

The room was richly decorated like the rest of the manor. However, his father had made a few additions to the décor. Puddlemere United's poster and a custom jersey with his father's name and the number '10' hung off a wall. Odd trinkets like a small broomstick and an entire collection of balls used in Quidditch were suspended over a small rack where they floated in the air. Apart from Quidditch collectibles, James also had a small rack of books near the window, and Harry saw the various tomes that lined it. It seemed his father, underneath the exterior of a prankster, was indeed an illustrious scholar.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" James asked him as he looked up from the note he was reading. Harry looked at him and nodded.

"Do you really think things will get so bad?"

Sirius looked up and frowned. Harry sighed.

"I truly hope it doesn't, but I fear it really will. You don't know this madman. He will stop at nothing until he gets what he wants, which is absolute power over Wizarding Britain."

James nodded to himself before looking over at Sirius, who nodded firmly.

"Allow us to join you then."

Harry looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"You said you train all day so you could get ready to fight, right? I'm asking you to let us join in. We too want to fight when the time comes."

Harry's apprehension must have been visible on his face because James glared at him.

"Listen Harry, I am the future lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. I might not care for this pureblood politics and house business, but I have my pride as a Potter. I refuse to be unprepared or sit back and watch as a maniac burns my homeland. I am going to fight, whether you let me join in or not."

"What he said," Sirius gestured with his thumb toward James, who looked at him evenly.

"I am asking you as family. Allow us to practice with you. You are a very powerful wizard. It's easy enough to tell. Together, I bet we can tackle any problem that might arise. Consider this an alliance between the houses of Potter, Black and Peverell if you will."

Harry stared at the younger version of his father in surprise. A part of him was apprehensive of pulling him down this rabbit hole. He wanted to keep them as safe as possible. However, another part of him wanted nothing more than to agree with him. They were going to be involved in the war anyway. At least if they trained and got stronger together, they would be much better prepared than they had been the first time. In the end, it was an easy enough decision for him.

"Alright, James, Sirius, I agree," Harry replied firmly. "However, I will have to warn you that it won't be easy."

"The right thing never is," James replied. Harry nodded.

"I'll key the two of you in the wards of Peverell Manor. You can start coming tomorrow onwards. I'll leave the matter of dealing with your parents to you. We will practice everything, and our goal would be to become as strong as possible."

"I look forward to it," James smirked.

"Kicking some supremacist ass will be worth all the effort," Sirius added. Harry chuckled.

"James, could you come over for a moment?" The voice of Charlus Potter sounded out, and James nodded at them before walking out.

"You okay, Sirius? After, you know…" Harry asked after a moment of silence.

Sirius looked at him and smiled. "You know, I didn't expect I'd be this happy. Now I understand why Andi has never tried to come back. She must be so happy after getting rid of all the baggage my mother comes with."

Harry frowned. "I know it's none of my business, but does your cousin have issues with her parents and sisters as well? All of them seemed decent people to me."

Sirius sighed. "After grandfather banished Andi from the family, no one can talk to her. I know Bella and Cissy want to, but they cannot go against his command. However, perhaps now I will do it. I've run away too."

Harry chuckled as Sirius grinned. It seemed Walburga Black was the root of evil in that family, otherwise, everyone else seemed like decent people, even Bellatrix.

For the first time, Harry wondered what had happened that had made Bellatrix the mad witch she had been in his previous timeline, and also for the first time, Harry wondered how much of a role Walburga had played in sending the Blacks right in Voldemort's clutches.

He hoped that with her being declared persona non grata within the family, her influence would be nullified and she won't be able to do anything.

He was brought out of his thoughts when James entered the room with a thoughtful look on his face. He caught his eye, furrowing his brows when he saw the other boy smile and shake his head.

"Just something Dad wanted to discuss with me."

Harry nodded.

"It's been a long enough day. I should be getting home now."

James and Sirius looked at him in surprise before they nodded. Together, the trio walked out of the room and downstairs where Dorea and Charlus were sitting together on the couch.

"I should be getting home now," Harry said with a small smile and saw Dorea and Charlus exchange a look before Charlus nodded.

"Alright, lad. But don't be a stranger. James has told me that he and Sirius would be joining you at Peverell Manor tomorrow onwards, as well as the reason. We've had a discussion about it and even though we don't like it very much, we agree that it's better to be prepared."

Harry looked at them and nodded.

"That doesn't mean you get to be a stranger though," Dorea interjected swiftly as she gave him a soft hug – a hug Harry had no hesitation in returning this time. "Have a few sessions every week here, and who knows, perhaps we'd join you boys sometime as well. It's been a long time since I've practiced certain spells."

Harry stared wide-eyed at the woman, who looked at him and chuckled.

"We might be old, but that doesn't make us any less capable, Harry. Remember we fought in a war as well. Back then, we were only a few years older than you are, so we perfectly understand where you are coming from."

Harry exchanged a look with James and Sirius before he turned around and nodded.

"I'll make sure we do that. And please, come visit Peverell Manor tomorrow with these two. If you'd like to join the sessions, I'd be more than happy to have you."

Dorea smiled.

"Harry," Charlus' voice prompted him to look over, and his eyes shot open when he saw what the older man was carrying.

"I believe it's time the heirloom of the House of Peverell that has been in our possession for centuries was returned to its rightful owner. I had granted this cloak to James when he joined Hogwarts, however, with your arrival, it is only right that this cloak was returned to you."

Harry stared at the Cloak of Invisibility in surprise before he looked over at James, who smiled at him.

"Take it, Harry. It belongs to you," James said sincerely.

Harry looked at Charlus who held the cloak out, and reverently, he took it from him. He had never imagined that they would return the cloak voluntarily. However, given how genuine they were, he should've expected them to do it.

Harry gave the man a firm hug, who looked taken aback for a moment before returning it.

"Thank you, Uncle Charlus," Harry said emotionally. Charlus chuckled and pulled back, holding him at arm's length.

"Family doesn't apologize or thank. Always remember that."

Chuckling, Harry nodded before looking at Dorea, who smiled at him.

"I'd very much like it if you called me Aunt Dorea as well."

Harry smiled and nodded. "As you wish, Aunt Dorea."

The woman smiled at him.

Finally, Harry turned to look at James and Sirius, who nodded at him.

"See you tomorrow, cousin," James said with his head held high, and Sirius nodded beside him.

"Yeah, see you too, cousin," he replied as he got inside the fireplace. With a final nod, he disappeared in a swirl of emerald flames, leaving four people with the knowledge of a foreboding future and the prospect of upcoming challenges to overcome.

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Chapter Text

Harry awoke the next morning at the crack of dawn, having slept much more peacefully than he had the previous night after that emotional ordeal.

He quickly finished his morning rituals before getting ready for his morning workout. It was usual for him to run a few miles before doing some weight training.

He walked down the stairs, smiling at Minnie who beamed at him before exiting through the door leading to the garden and the courtyard. It was large enough for him to complete his morning run in a few laps, and he started to run.

Today, James and Sirius would be arriving, with possibly Uncle Charlus and Aunt Dorea in tow. It had taken him some time, but he was now able to differentiate between who they were to him, and who he now knew them as. His constant reminders to himself had certainly worked.

Harry had not imagined that he would build such a close relationship with the Potters so quickly. Initially, he had thought that he would be just another random lord of an Ancient and Noble House who would approach them for an alliance. However, they had instead welcomed him as family, something he had been pleasantly surprised by.

He had never sensed any sense of foul play from them, or any desire to get close to him to exploit his position in the Wizarding Society or anything. The Potters were powerful enough in their own right, and they did not need to put up an act to gain more power.

Harry was more than satisfied with how things had gone so far. Walburga Black had been neutralized to a large extent, and he hoped Arcturus could this time keep a firm hold on his emotions after his wife's death and not let his house go astray. Even then, he hoped Walburga could at least not exercise any form of control over the house.

He had also managed to warn Dumbledore and the Potters of the upcoming threat, and he was sure all of them would be preparing to the best of their abilities. He had no intention of ever telling Dumbledore everything and would take care of all the Horcruxes by himself, but he could certainly use the headmaster's help on other matters, particularly political and on the field of battle, should the need arise.

Sirius and the Potters were also ready to stand ready with their wands raised, and he was grateful for their support. They would be coming over in a few hours, and Harry was looking forward to training and crossing wands with them.

The refreshing morning air carried with it a hint of the salty seawater, and Harry took a deep breath as he ran. A large perimeter surrounded the property, and he could not see the sea clearly from the ground. However, the sound of waves crashing against the shore was very clear.

His property was well isolated from the population. Located outside Falmouth, it overlooked the sea and was surrounded by hills on the other side. Harry liked his privacy, and it did not get as cold as the north either, so he was certainly grateful for that. There was no way he would appreciate always having to cast warming charms on himself whenever he went out of the manor.

However, the silence did perturb him a bit. There was nothing audible apart from the sounds of birds and Luna's growls whenever she prowled around the courtyard. He wondered if he could house a few magical creatures on the grounds, and resolved to discuss the matter with Uncle Charlus.

It took him well over two hours when Harry was done with his morning run and the weight training, and he groaned as he took a seat at the dining table. A glass of water immediately appeared in front of him, and he smiled before gulping it down.

"Thanks Minnie!"

His breakfast appeared in an instant, and he chuckled before diving in.

-Break-

It was barely past 10 when the Floo lit up, and Harry walked forward with a bright grin on his face.

"Welcome to Peverell Manor," he greeted Charlus and Dorea with warm hugs before clasping arms with James and Sirius. "Come on, I'll show you around."

The Potters and Sirius looked around as Harry led them through the entire manor, and they had to admit that it was an impressive structure, befitting the House of Peverell.

"You sure didn't hold back mate, did you?" Sirius remarked with a chuckle when they finally arrived back and took their seats in the living room. "Merlin, I bet you'd make Malfoy jealous."

Harry chuckled. "That wasn't my intention."

"I certainly would pay to see that fake mask of politeness on Lucius' face crack," James grinned.

"He does look slimy, I'll admit that," Harry replied.

"You've met the Malfoy heir?" Dorea asked inquisitively. Harry nodded.

"Believe it or not, but Abraxas Malfoy was kinda stalking me when I went to take my OWLs. Man's so shady it's blatantly obvious. Invited me to a dinner at his place to welcome back the House of Peverell."

Sirius snorted. "His son is worse. Merlin, it sickens me whenever I see the looks he gives Cissy."

Harry looked at Sirius in interest. "Malfoy is interested in your cousin?"

"More like the Black fortune. Slimeball knows she would come with a handsome pile of galleons and would enhance his house's prestige."

Dorea sighed. "Language, Sirius."

Harry nodded. "Aren't the Malfoys filthy rich though? Why would he want a share of the Black fortune?"

All four chuckled as one, and Harry looked at them in confusion.

"It is something of an open secret in the upper class of Wizarding Britain that the Malfoys are rich in name only. They keep this façade of wealth and opulence to keep up appearances, but almost everyone who can be concerned with it knows that the wealth is only superficial. There is no substance beneath," Charlus replied.

"I see," Harry muttered.

"Whatever wealth the Malfoys have is for bribes and under the table deals. Nothing else. They are still among some of the richest families of Britain, but nowhere near as rich as they portray themselves to be."

"You did a good thing, denying his invitation politely. With what you told us yesterday, it won't surprise me in the slightest if Abraxas allied with this madman. The family is as rotten as you can imagine," Dorea replied.

Harry nodded. "That does remind me of something I need to discuss with you all."

"What is it, Harry?" Charlus asked with an inquisitive look on his face as he leaned back.

"My parents often discussed a few pureblood families. There are a few I want to ask you about, and whether they are worth allying with."

"I see," Charlus replied with a frown. "Well, I'm sure among the four of us, we can give you a sufficiently satisfactory answer. Which families are you talking about?"

"Malfoy, Lestrange, Carrow, Avery, Yaxley, Crabbe, Nott, Goyle, Rosier, Lee, Snyde, Mulciber, Travers and Rowle. Those are the ones I remember clearly. We already discussed Malfoy, so you don't need to talk about them."

"All are the members of the dark faction," Dorea muttered.

Charlus looked thoughtful for a moment before looking over at James and Sirius.

"What do you think about the heirs or heiresses of those houses? And any other children you might know as well."

James scoffed. "All rotten to the core. Apart from Rosier. I mean, those children are in Slytherin, but I've never seen or heard of them bullying or acting out at Hogwarts."

Sirius nodded. "Aunt Druella is from that family, and she is a good woman."

Charlus nodded. "I have had several talks with Malcolm Rosier over the years, and he is a decent man. However, the family is a staunch supporter of pureblood rights, so if you want them on your side, you need to approach and convince the man before the other side does. I don't believe he would condone mass murder or terrorism though, so that gives me a positive feeling about it."

Harry nodded.

"You need to be aware of something though," the man continued. "Malcolm has two siblings. Druella and Evan. You know Druella already. However, you should know about Evan. The least I can say about the youngest brother is that he is unhinged and a constant source of headache for his family."

"The one most likely to join Voldemort then," Harry muttered. Charlus shrugged.

"High possibility."

"What about the other houses?"

Charlus looked back at his son and nephew, who sneered. "The worst of the lot. I have no doubt that they would jump at the chance to join forces with this madman. They openly talk about how it would be a blessing to kill all muggleborns and half-bloods."

Everyone was surprised by James' reaction and the vitriol his tone contained, apart from Sirius, who nodded.

"That's the least of what they say and believe in."

"Even the young kids?" Dorea asked in surprise, and James grimaced before nodding stiffly.

"I think they just go with the flow, but students fourth year and above are firm believers of blood supremacy and are bigoted to the extreme."

Harry frowned. "I see…"

"The elder members are not any better either," Charlus replied. "All houses are members of the dark faction, and you can consider them already on this madman's side. Merlin, he wouldn't even need to offer them anything. Just one word from him and they would be all for killing and massacring muggleborns, half-bloods and the so-called blood traitors."

Harry nodded. It seemed it was as he had thought. However, there must be at least one person in those houses who was decent. He asked Charlus as much, who shrugged helplessly.

"If there are, we have no idea. You'll never know unless to personally talk to each member and ascertain for yourself."

Harry sighed and nodded. That would be a hassle indeed. He would have to think of something else. Otherwise, it seemed very likely that almost a dozen pureblood houses will cease to exist.

Still, that was better than the future he had come from. He would indeed give them a chance, but would not hesitate in eradicating them if they decided to do the wrong thing anyway.

"How many students are there from those houses at Hogwarts?" Harry asked James and Sirius, who frowned and started to calculate.

"Apart from Rosier and Malfoy, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Fourteen, right?" James asked Sirius, who nodded.

"If we don't count the cadet branch of House Carrow, yes. They are at least better than the rest of the lot."

James nodded at him before turning to look at Harry. "Yeah, fourteen then. House Carrow has a cadet branch, and there is one boy from that branch. I don't know the name. He's a quiet one in the sixth year. All the others are the worst of the lot, and always remain in groups together."

Harry nodded. This cadet branch must be the one Hestia and Flora Carrow were from. He had seen the two girls a few times at Hogwarts, and they had seemed alright, albeit the quiet sort. This boy must be their father.

Still, fourteen students were supposed to carry the bloodline of those twelve families forward. The number sure seemed very low.

Those fourteen students had a choice, and he would give it to them. Their decision would determine the continuation of their bloodline. He had no intention of letting Voldemort have his inner circle, and he would rather nip his future servants before they could even become one. He did not care for the adults. However, the upcoming generation will have a choice. He would not deprive them of it.

The Potters and Sirius stared at Harry who sat there in silent contemplation, wondering what he was thinking about. Harry looked at them and nodded.

"Nothing. Just thinking which houses would be worth it."

The elders nodded in understanding.

"I believe we should discuss these matters with Arcturus as well," Charlus interjected. "The Blacks might have traditionalist views but Arcturus will never agree with mass destruction. He knows the importance of magical blood. It would be valuable to have him on our side as well."

Harry nodded. "I'll send him a letter today."

Charlus nodded.

Soon, it was time for the elder Potters to depart, and they promised to join them in their training sometime. However, for now, Harry was left with James and Sirius who looked expectantly at him. He nodded and led them toward the training facility he had gotten set up.

The two boys stared around the chamber in wonder. From muggle training equipment to battle dummies and targets – the training facility had everything they would need to improve enormously.

"Come on, let me show you something we will be doing everyday first thing before starting spell practice," Harry walked forward, and they followed him until they reached a dark spherical structure suspended in the air.

"This is to improve your control over your magical output. There are multiple levels, and all you need to do is channel enough magic to make this sphere light up. The magnitude needs to be as precise as possible. There is a small range within which the light glows, so if you are under or over the limits, the light won't glow. I find this a very good way of controlling how much magic I want to release when casting spells."

James and Sirius nodded as they stared at the contraption in wonder as Harry brought another one out and affixed it to the ceiling.

"I haven't needed to use this for a while now. This is used to test and enhance your magical output. This will help you improve how much power you can put behind any spell. With these two artifacts, you can improve your output as well as control."

"Where did you get all these things from?" Sirius asked, gesturing around.

Harry smiled. "The muggle training equipment from the muggle world. However, I managed to retrieve the magical artifacts from one of my instructors. For secrecy reasons, I cannot tell you who my instructor was."

The boys nodded. It was Arcturus who had told him where he could get everything he needed. However, there was no way he was going to tell them the truth.

"Alright then, should we get started?"

James and Sirius grinned at him at that.

"Oh we're ready, mate."

Harry nodded. "Okay. I'd like for you two to arrive here by 7:30 from now on. We will include physical training into the mix as well. But for today, I want you to first take turns with these lovely spheres before you will demonstrate all the offensive spells you know. I want to understand what your current level is."

James and Sirius nodded and went over to the spheres. Harry went to the other end of the facility and started on his spell practice. A training dummy appeared in front of him, and Harry whipped his wand out.

The training dummies Arcturus had him use increased the difficulty level based on his skills, and these were similar. A bone breaker immediately shot towards him at a rapid pace, and Harry expertly dodged before retaliating with a cleaver in no time. The dummy chose to erect a shield, and Harry smirked when his cleaver shattered the shield before striking the dummy right at its throat, beheading it.

Harry readied himself as the dummy repaired itself before it started to fling a multitude of dark spells toward him. Harry dodged, shielded, or swatted the spells aside as he slowly closed the distance between them. Once he was within range, he conjured a large flaming whip and started to strike the dummy with a degree of precision resulting from prolonged training.

James and Sirius had already turned around after hearing a loud thud a few minutes ago and they kept staring at the display with wide eyes. They turned to look at each other in shock before turning back toward where Harry was now fighting against two training dummies. He was quickly alternating between flame whips and curses as he flung the latter at the dummies before conjuring the former and battering them with it.

His eyes were glowing a dangerous shade of turquoise that sent shivers down their spines. They could feel the murderous aura around him. This man was a warrior and a ruthless killer; there were no two ways about it.

"All those spells are hitting vital spots," James muttered, and Sirius refocused before his eyes widened when he realized James was right.

"Such precision is not normal," the heir to the Blacks replied. James nodded and watched as Harry conjured flaming swords out of nothing and banished them toward the dummies. The swords pierced through the dummies' necks, hearts, and crotches. The boys winced on seeing the latter.

Harry flicked his wand and their eyes widened when the dummies exploded, sending debris all around the arena in which Harry was practicing. Although calling it a practice felt like an insult to the display.

"He is using dark spells with such ease," James said with a frown. Sirius nodded. It didn't sit right with him either.

Harry nodded to himself and watched as the dummies repaired themselves before he turned to look at his impromptu audience.

"Why did you two stop?" He asked, frowning.

"Mate, you expect us to continue doing this shit when you pull that out of your ass!?" Sirius exclaimed. "Merlin, I've never seen something like that!"

James nodded. "You fight like you've been trained to fight."

Harry looked at the younger version of his father and sighed.

"That is because I was. The Peverells have always had to protect themselves, so we have been instructed in martial magic since we could start learning. I am no different. It took me a lot of effort to get to where I am now, and I still have to go much far. At my current level, I can probably stall Voldemort for a short while before he'd overwhelm me with his sheer magical ability."

James and Sirius stared at him with wide eyes.

"Just how powerful is he then!?"

Harry frowned. "Think of Dumbledore. Now think of how capable he would've been if he used all the spells people consider the dark arts."

A shiver went through James and Sirius. Such a thing was too terrifying to even imagine.

"As of now, there is only one wizard who could probably defeat him. Dumbledore. No one else. I need to get stronger so I could claim to be in the same bracket."

"Does that include using the dark arts with such ease as well?" Sirius blurted out, and Harry turned to look at him.

James and Sirius watched as Harry shook his head and walked over to take a seat on the couch.

"What are the dark arts?" He asked plainly.

"Spells used to cause harm to others," Sirius replied flatly. Harry turned to look at James with an expectant look, who frowned.

"What he said. Spells used with the intention to cause harm to others."

Harry chuckled.

"Your answers are as different as they could be."

At their confused frowns, he gestured for them to sit down. Once they had, he started to explain.

"Sirius, you said the dark arts are spells used to harm others. And James, you said the dark arts are spells used with the intention to harm others. If we go by Sirius' definition, then almost all the spells are dark spells."

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked, frowning.

"Even basic first-year spells like Wingardium Leviosa or Lumos can be used to harm others. You can levitate someone, say, a hundred metres high and drop them, or cast a powerful Lumos right against their eyes and hold it there for hours on end. Both will cause harm. So inherently, most of the spells are dark spells, right?"

Sirius stared, flabbergasted. It seemed he had never thought of it like that.

"So your definition is flawed. Now, coming to James' definition. Intention does count. Those basic spells will be considered bad only if they are used with the intention to cause harm. Otherwise, they are inherently good spells. Using this logic, all spells must be inherently good as we can use them for multiple purposes, not only to harm others. With me so far?"

James and Sirius nodded. Harry smiled.

"Now, intent is also well and good, but it is not a definitive metric to classify a spell as light or dark. If you use, say, a bonebreaker on another person to save someone, your intention is pure, even if you used it to harm someone. Does that make the bonebreaker light or dark?"

"What are you saying? That it depends on the scenario?" James asked curiously.

Harry nodded. "Most of the times, yes. It depends on both intent and the scenario, and that is how it should be. My objective is to stop a madman from destroying everything. It is a noble cause, which means I have the right intent in this scenario. That should mean all spells I use in this endeavour should be okay, right?"

He smiled at their confused expressions.

"What I am saying is that it's wrong to classify spells as light or dark without knowing the scenario they have been used in. All spells can be used for both good and bad purposes. We need to look at them on a case-to-case basis. However, there are indeed a few spells which should be considered dark in my opinion. Spells that require true malice to cast. That is it."

James and Sirius both frowned. "You're talking about the Unforgivables."

Harry nodded.

"Even those could've been used for good. Perhaps to allow someone relief from severe pain by killing them painlessly, or by bewitching their mind to stop them from committing some heinous act. However, it is impossible. That is because inherently these spells require true malice and hatred on your part to cast. If you have even an inkling of any other emotion apart from malice or hatred, you simply won't be able to cast those three spells. It's a shame, really it is. The Unforgivables could've been used for so many positive purposes.

"Many spells which we consider dark derive power from anger. However, I consider them within the grey area, even though they can cause considerably more significant damage. But the unforgivables are inherently dark."

James and Sirius nodded, both thoughtful.

"We are going to be at war, and that will require us to do things we wouldn't like. We would have to make the choice – us or them. And that would require us to use spells we previously would've never dreamt of using."

Harry stared at the two as they remained silent.

"So how much have you done so far?"

James and Sirius looked at each other before turning towards him and sighing. Harry frowned.

"Look, you two. If you are serious about this, I want you to train without slacking off. Getting distracted won't help you. Get going now."

The two young men sighed and nodded in understanding, and Harry crossed his legs before closing his eyes.

"I'll be out of it for at least an hour. You two should be done with channeling your magic through both the spheres until then. I'll look over the results and then you can demonstrate your spellcasting level."

James and Sirius nodded and watched as Harry's face relaxed into a peaceful look. They turned to look at each other with resolute expressions and went over to begin their tasks. Harry had given them a lot to think about. However, for now, they had something else to concern themselves with.

-Break-

It was late afternoon when they finally emerged from the training area. Minnie had already laid out the lunch. Harry chuckled when Sirius all but bolted forward and dove in.

"Don't worry, there's more than enough for us all," he told James, who shook his head at his best friend and took his seat.

It was while they were eating that Harry thought about something that had been bugging him ever since their talk a few hours ago.

"Hey James, mind if I ask something?"

"Huh? What's up, mate?"

"Nothing much. It's just… you looked pretty pissed off when you were telling us about the children from those bigoted houses."

James' face darkened at the reminder and Harry saw Sirius sigh with a small smile on his face.

"Let's just say I've heard a few of those assholes say some not so pleasant words to a few people I care about."

Harry nodded, looking askance at Sirius who muttered something.

"What was that?"

Sirius looked at him before looking at James, who sighed.

"It's a girl I care about. She is a muggleborn and is the most brilliant witch you'll ever meet in your life. Those cunts have sometimes said not so savory things to her. It always enrages me when I think about it."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"I see. I can understand how something like that would agitate you. So you have a crush, hmm?" He asked, smirking. Sirius laughed out loud.

"Crush? Merlin, this dog has it bad for her."

"Yeah so? I love her, and I have no shame in admitting it."

Harry looked at James with wide eyes. "Wow, you love her? You two must be very close then. How long have you been together, if you don't mind me asking?"

Sirius guffawed as James looked as if all the wind had been knocked out of his sails. Harry gave them a look of faux confusion.

"That girl hates his guts," Sirius replied, still laughing. "Thinks he's a smartass and couldn't care less about him."

"Shut up, Padfoot," James hissed, kicking him in the shin.

"Ouch. Fuck that hurt," Sirius cried out, massaging the spot.

Harry shook his head. He thought about his parents, and whether he could do anything to bring them closer. In the original timeline, it took his father maturing to realize what he was doing wrong, and he had gotten together with his mother in their final year. However, such maturity had been triggered by the traumatic event of his grandparents' deaths. There was no way he was going to let that happen in this timeline.

Perhaps there was something he could do so his father could mature quicker this time around. He would certainly not interfere directly as that could prove risky. However, he could certainly maneuver the situation around so that his father realized that he was conducting himself wrongly.

Harry decided to wait and see how things would turn out before taking any steps. Already he had changed a lot since his arrival. Hopefully, he could do much more and bring positive changes in their lives.

"And you're one to talk," James retorted. "Mr. I-can't-contain-my-dalliances-and-settle-down-with-the-one-I-fancy!"

"Merlin, that's a big ass name," Harry snorted mid-bite and swallowed quickly. Sirius flushed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied.

"Yeah, right. Marlene McKinnon. Ring any bells?"

Harry seemed to recall Sirius mentioning the woman a few times in his past, and always with a sense of regret. If he remembered correctly, his godfather did indeed like her, but they never got together because of his lecherous behavior. The girl was killed with her entire family during Voldemort's initial attacks.

Harry looked at Sirius who was looking anywhere but at them.

"Let me tell you about our great Padfoot and his legendary love life," James looked at him with a grin as Sirius acted as if he couldn't hear what they were talking about. Harry leaned forward with a teasing grin.

"She is a cheeky minx," James continued. "Declined his Hogsmeade invitation last year because our resident Casanova here can't seem to keep himself away from sampling a new witch every other week."

"Sirius…" Harry deadpanned.

"What? Whatever suits her. I gave her a chance at sampling the perfect specimen of masculinity that the great Sirius Black is. If she doesn't want to get blessed with my magnificence, her loss."

Harry looked at James and chuckled at the similarly exasperated look on his face.

"Keep being this humble and she'll never agree to go out with you," Harry replied. Sirius shrugged.

"Her loss. I have witches lining up for me. Who cares about that idiot?"

"You do sound like you do," James interjected with a grin. Sirius gave him a stink eye which was expertly ignored before he turned to look at Harry and a certain devilish gleam entered his eyes.

"And what about you, Mr. Perfect?"

Harry blinked at him. "Mr. Perfect? That's the best you could come up with?"

Sirius shrugged before smirking knowingly.

"Who do you have your eyes on?"

Harry forcefully ejected the vision of grey eyes framed by blonde locks out of his mind and shrugged.

"Haven't found her yet."

"Uh-huh, as if I'd believe that," Sirius interjected swiftly before looking at James. "Remember what I told you yesterday before Mr. Perfect here came over?"

James looked at Sirius with a frown before his eyes widened.

"You weren't joking!?"

Sirius clicked his tongue and pointed at his eyes. "This dog's eyes never miss things like this, mate."

James turned to look at Harry in surprise.

"You have hots for Narcissa Black!?"

Harry's eyes shot open.

"What the fuck!?"

"Oi! Don't play coy now. I saw you two making eyes at each other during that bloody dinner. Merlin, they looked like a married couple already. Talking with your eyes!? Seriously? How cheesy can you get, Peverell?"

Harry could only stare in shock as Sirius kept smiling smugly.

"You're completely off the mark here. There's nothing between me and your cousin."

"Yeah, and I'm the bloody Minister for Magic! Admit it, Peverell. You've got hots for Cissy."

James stared at a dumbstruck Harry with wide eyes.

"Merlin's saggy tits! It's true! You fancy Narcissa!"

"That's why he was so vexed when I said bloody Lucy was interested in Cissy. Dude has hots for her. I'm sure."

"I was not vexed!"

James scratched his cheek. "Err… mate. You kinda were."

"He was, right!?" Sirius exclaimed before turning to look at Harry with wide eyes. "Look mate, I don't care about anything, but please take Lucy down a peg or two. I'd happily watch you make out with my cousin in the middle of the Great Hall just to see the look on that slimy cunt's face."

"Fucking hell, Sirius!" Harry exclaimed as James looked on with a grin.

"Admit it, Harry. You do have hots for Narcissa," he prompted, grin widening when Harry glared at him. "See, all this teasing and you've still not denied it even once. Looks kinda done and dusted to me."

Harry could only stare in surprise. He had no idea anyone had even seen him and Narcissa interacting in such a manner. He had indeed been thinking of approaching Narcissa once they got to Hogwarts. She was beautiful, and so far she had been entirely different from what he had heard of her in his previous life. There was no way he was going to deny himself happiness in this new life, and exploring whatever there was between them was something he wanted to do.

He looked at Sirius and sighed in defeat.

"You really are a pathetic dog," he muttered.

James and Sirius only laughed in response.

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Chapter Text

The rest of the summer break passed in a similar fashion. Harry would wake up early in the morning, immerse himself in physical training, and wait for James and Sirius to arrive. After having breakfast together, they would engage in practicing their magic, with Harry letting James and Sirius study a few tomes he had procured from various sources. Afterward, he would become akin to their professor and teach them advanced spells.

Their sessions reminded Harry of the DA in the beginning, and he would get reminiscent of the time he had spent with his friends. However, as the past couple of months passed, Harry had become more adept at coming to terms with what he now considered his previous life.

Nothing was tethering him to that timeline apart from memories, and realizing that it was nothing but something better left in the past had been important for him to look forward to the life ahead.

Dorea and Charlus also joined them a few times over the past weeks, and the two adults had a lot to teach. Even Harry learned a lot from them. Arcturus might have taught him immensely, but Charlus Potter was not revered as an immensely powerful wizard without reason. Dorea Potter was no slouch with a wand either – whether in defense, offense, or field healing. Any gaps Arcturus might have left in his tutelage had been adequately plugged by Charlus and Dorea.

Harry had been elated at the rapid progress James and Sirius had made in their spellcasting as well as the variety of spells they now had in their arsenal. The two boys were going into their OWL year, but Harry was sure they could pass their NEWTs if they wanted to.

He had admitted as much to them, and their response had equal parts surprised and impressed him.

"OWLs and NEWTs seem so trivial now that I've not even thought about them," James had remarked once after their training, and Harry recalled Sirius nodding in agreement.

"I get what you mean, Prongs. To think that we all could die just because we support a cause that doesn't align with this monster's. I'd rather take as many of those bastards down than let him kill those I hold dear."

Harry had gone extra hard on them the next day, much to their complaints and his amusement. He had simply told them to expect intensified training now that they were done with what Hogwarts had to offer. The battlefield won't care for academic spells, and they would need the ability to cast in the heat of the battle if they wanted to survive and come out on top.

What had surprised Harry the most since their discussion about the Hogwarts houses and magic was how James and Sirius' perceptions regarding what was light and dark had changed for the better. Harry had to admit that the two could have been called prejudicial in the past. However, that was no more the case. It had become evident when the two had readily helped out another student from the house of snakes when they had visited Diagon Alley a few days ago without even batting an eye at the Slytherin insignia on his robe.

However, that did not mean the pair were no longer cocky. They were still full of themselves, and even he had not been spared from their little pranks. Harry was sure Lily wouldn't give James the time of the day if the boy didn't man up. He had been working to fix their attitudes, if only so they could have some success with their respective ladies. However, so far, there had been little success.

Another surprising development over the holidays was the exchange of letters that had started between him and one Narcissa Black.

Harry still remembered the teasing he had gotten from James and Sirius regarding the young woman, and try as he might, he could not refute them. Sirius had gone one step further and used his teachings against him. The boy copied his handwriting and delivered an opening letter to his cousin addressed by none other than him.

When Harry came to know about it, he had attacked Sirius with vicious stinging hexes until the boy had been rendered moaning painfully on the floor. He had stopped only when James came in with a letter in his hand and a smirk on his face.

Harry remembered immediately snatching the letter from his cousin and going over to the side, feeling a foreboding feeling come over him. However, his relief had grown with each word he'd read until he had been left feeling contented with how the situation had turned out.

Sirius had indeed gotten a few pain-relieving potions after the incident.

Ever since then, they had taken to write to one another every few days. The letters were fairly mundane, all things considered. However, they had lit inside him the desire to get to know the woman even better and try to develop whatever it was between them. Apart from Cho, she was the only girl he had felt attracted to, and he wanted to get to know her better.

Not everything was positive though. He had still not managed to get a meeting arranged with Arcturus Black. He had wanted to talk to the man about the perils of Voldemort's upcoming rise and what he might expect. However, the man had left for eastern Europe with his wife to consult a few healers. Harry hoped the woman somehow pulled through. It was important for Arcturus to maintain firm control over his house. Harry did not think he would manage to do as much as he could for them otherwise.

Charlus had also reported that although he had firm control over the members of his alliance, the other lords and ladies were not too concerned with the possible rise of Voldemort. There had been a few dark wizards since Grindelwald who had tried to wreak havoc across Britain and Europe at large. However, they had been thwarted easily. That made them believe that this Voldemort would be another of the bunch who could easily be dealt with by the auror force.

Harry could only shake his head at that. While a part of him understood where their confidence came from, the rational part of him knew things would turn worse sooner rather than later. He only hoped they saw reason before the chips went down.

It was the first of September and Harry found himself apparating over to the King's Cross Station to board the Hogwarts Express. He had received a letter from Dumbledore which told him that he could either be sorted before the first years in the staff room or choose to be sorted with them. Harry had politely chosen the first option. Thus, he would be traveling to the castle with the others.

He appeared on the other side of the platform and immediately gazed upon the Hogwarts Express in all its glory. The crimson engine of the train glowed in the sunlight and Harry smiled.

Students were bustling across the platform, and once again, Harry marveled at the sheer number of witches and wizards that crowded around the train. It was easily double the number he had observed back in his timeline.

Shaking his head, Harry walked ahead and kept looking around for James and Sirius. It didn't take him long, and he smiled when Dorea spotted him.

"Harry," she smiled back, enveloping him in a gentle hug. Harry happily hugged her back, more than used to her affections.

"Hey Aunt Dorea, Uncle Charlus," Harry greeted the older man with a hug as well before clasping arms with James and Sirius.

"Ready to go?"

Harry nodded at Charlus with a smile.

"Okay. It's almost eleven. You should get going now," Dorea remarked, looking at her watch. They nodded. "And Harry?"

Harry turned to look at the woman who smiled at him.

"I'm repeating once again. You'll have to spend the Christmas holidays with us at Potter Manor. I won't accept a 'no' for an answer."

Harry chuckled. Dorea had told him as much the previous evening when he had visited Potter Manor. He nodded, smiling.

"I promise I'll be there."

"Good lad," she patted his cheek warmly before hugging James and Sirius, who quickly pulled away, chuckling good-naturedly.

"Okay, okay, enough hugging already," James chuckled as he grabbed his trunk.

"Yeah. You'll make all the lovely ladies think we're still little kids," Sirius complained with a chuckle. Dorea snorted.

"Go on, you idiots," she replied, smiling. Chuckling, they turned around and boarded the train, waving back at the Potters who nodded.

"Thank you," Harry smiled, "for everything you've done for me."

"Oh you silly boy," Dorea couldn't hold herself back from hugging him one more time, and Charlus clapped him firmly on the back.

"Remember what I said, Harry?" The man asked rhetorically with a smile. "Family does not thank each other. And you are family, no matter how distant in blood we might be."

Nodding meaningfully, Harry pulled back and joined James and Sirius, who shook their heads at him. Together, they walked ahead and started looking around.

"Alright, Harry. Since you're the fifth marauder now, it's time for you to meet the remaining two members. Don't worry, they're harmless, mostly," Sirius grinned. Harry managed a convincing one of his own.

He had been looking forward to getting to know Remus a little better, and he was sure the boy would be as sharp as he had been in his timeline. However, it was the other boy he had to particularly steel himself for.

Peter Pettigrew – the traitor. The fucking cunt who had destroyed everything he held dear.

If there was someone in the long list of people he hated with every fiber of his being, it was the rat-faced betrayer. Too many times did he have to hold himself back from going out and killing him since coming to this timeline. Whenever James or Sirius mentioned him, he had to actively utilize his Occlumency to calm himself down lest he did something he'd regret.

He would repeat Arcturus' words over and over in his mind. These were not the people he knew from his past. They had not done anything that might condemn them, and it would not be right if he didn't treat them as such. His purpose in this timeline was to save as many as he could and prevent people from joining Voldemort. Much to his disappointment, Pettigrew also fell into this category.

Over the past months, Harry had come to terms with it. Now, he could separate who they had once been from who they currently were. Hell, he had managed to treat Bellatrix cordially, and she had been the first faithful servant of Voldemort he had relished killing. Pettigrew was nothing compared to that.

He would give every Death Eater an opportunity. A shot at redemption. However, the moment a Death Eater stepped even one foot out of the line, then it was fair game. He would take care of them as soon as possible, no questions asked.

They walked down the corridor looking for either an empty compartment or one occupied by Remus or Peter. However, much to their disappointment, they found none.

"Guess we'll have to join a few students," Harry remarked. James and Sirius shrugged.

Harry started to look for any compartment which was occupied by only a few people and smiled when he found one. Only a girl was sitting inside, and he knocked on the door before sliding it open.

"Excuse me, could we…"

His voice failed him when he saw who it was.

Dark red hair flowed down her back in waves as her emerald orbs stared at him in surprise.

Harry quickly found his wits back and smiled at the girl.

"We couldn't find an empty compartment. Could we sit here?"

The girl nodded with an inviting smile as the boy came in and levitated his trunk on the rack. However, it was the sight of those who followed that made the smile on her face vanish.

"Potter! Black! What are you two doing here!?"

James Potter and Sirius Black looked at the redhead in surprise before grinning. James walked forward and immediately took a seat to the redhead's left, giving her a winning smile.

"Hey, Lils! What a good fortune I must have to see you before even getting to Hogwarts. Pretty sure this year would be the best."

Lily scooted as far away as she could and sneered at the smirking boy.

"And I'm sure my year would be rotten to the core, pretty similar to how you are, Potter."

Harry watched their interaction with wide eyes. He had heard that his mother detested his father in the beginning, but he could never imagine the extent of her disgust. It was truly a marvel that his father had managed to win her over.

"And for the umpteenth time, Potter. I am Evans to you, and I'll appreciate if you didn't butcher my name like that."

James shook his head as Lily looked over at Sirius who had taken his seat beside his best friend.

"And wasn't this one enough? I had to get saddled with you too?"

"Ah, come on, Evans. Loosen up a little. Anger leads to premature ageing, I'm sure you won't want the firsties to call you grandma," Sirius smirked. Harry shook his head and sat opposite Lily, who shook her head in disgust before looking at him critically. He smiled.

"I'm Harry Peverell."

Lily shook his hand uncertainly and nodded.

"Lily Evans. I don't think I've seen you before."

Harry nodded with a smile. "I've been homeschooled. Decided to attend Hogwarts for my NEWTs."

"You're a year senior then," she nodded, relaxing. "I'll give you a little advice, Harry Peverell. Stay as far away from these two as you can. You'll be much better off if you do."

"Oh come on, Lils! We're not that bad, mostly," James chuckled as he looked at Harry with a grin. "And I'm afraid you're a bit late with that little warning. Harry here is actually the fifth marauder. Has been for weeks already."

Harry looked at James in exasperation, before looking at Lily who looked at him with a sigh.

"Then I hope he turns out more like Remus than you two. Hell, even Pettigrew would be better."

Harry had to hold back a wince at the mention of the rat.

"I wonder why those two are so late," Sirius muttered, expertly ignoring what Lily just said. The redhead gave him a disgusted look and went back to staring outside the window.

"Must be getting hugs from their mums. You know how they are," James replied with a snicker.

"Like you and Aunt Dorea?" Harry quipped with a chuckle.

"Oi Harry!" James exclaimed, before whispering. "Not if front of Lils, mate."

Harry had to hold back a chuckle as Lily rolled her eyes.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and they turned to see a couple of girls walk in, surprised.

"Uh… Lily?" The brunette said, looking around with a frown. Lily looked at James and asked in as calm a voice as she could muster. "Would you mind sitting over there with your friend? I'd like to sit with mine."

James smirked at her and shrugged. "Sure, Lils. Whatever you want."

Harry shook his head with a sigh as James and Sirius sat down beside him. The latter was pointedly looking at the roof of the compartment.

"I don't deserve even a glance now, is that it?" The blonde witch who had come in with the brunette asked with a raised eyebrow. Sirius shrugged. "Prick," she muttered and dropped into the seat beside Lily as the brunette took the seat beside her.

"What are they doing here?" The blonde asked Lily, who sighed before she started to explain.

"You're way too nice sometimes, Lily," she replied, before looking over at Harry in surprise. Lily looked at her and made the introductions.

"This is Harry Peverell. He'll be joining the sixth years as a transfer student. Peverell, Marlene McKinnon and Alice Fawcett."

"Peverell? As in the tale of three brothers?" The blonde who he now identified as Marlene McKinnon said in surprise. Harry chuckled.

"The one and only."

"Don't think I've ever met a Peverell," Alice remarked.

"We've been a secretive bunch," Harry replied.

"Why come out of hiding now then?" Marlene asked bluntly, which earned her a sharp elbow from her redheaded friend.

"Reasons which will be revealed soon enough," Harry replied cryptically. The girls looked at him in surprise. However, they were even more surprised to see the intense looks James and Sirius sported.

Lily, in particular, was looking searchingly at James who, for once, stared at her with an unwavering gaze that was filled with utmost seriousness. Beside him, Sirius looked the same.

"Merlin, that's unnerving," Marlene muttered as she looked away from Sirius and looked at the door. "Great. More Marauders in our compartment. At least it's the tolerable pair."

Remus and Peter entered the compartment, looking around in surprise. Meanwhile, Harry kept his eyes firmly on the rotund boy trailing behind Remus as he also looked around. His former defense professor looked as rugged as he did back then, albeit much younger. Peter, on the other hand, looked more like a human. It made him wonder whether spending so much time as the Weasley's pet rat had made him look like one.

"Uh… Prongs, Padfoot… what's going on here?" Remus asked uncertainly as he stared at the unexpected faces.

"Couldn't find anywhere else to sit, Moony. And I see you're the prefect. Can't congratulate you on that, mate. Come on, grab one," James replied with a smile. Remus nodded with a resigned smile and levitated both his and Peter's trunks on the rack before looking around.

"You can sit here, Remus," Alice said with a smile, and Remus nodded before taking a seat beside her. Peter shrugged and sat down beside Sirius, who punched him in the belly.

"You've gotten fatter, Wormy. Stop munching so many sweets already," he remarked, picking out a wrapped chocolate frog from the boy's pocket and stuffing it inside his mouth in an instant. The girls shook their heads in disgust. Harry sighed once again. These two still had a long way to go.

"I'll bite. What's up with those names you boys call each other?" Marlene asked. "I've always wondered that."

"Is that so? You could've simply asked and I'd have told you long ago, Miss McKinnon. In private of course," Sirius replied with a winning smirk, having finally gotten over whatever had been irking him. Marlene stared at him with a deadpan look.

"I've already told you I've no interest in becoming another one of your conquests, Black. Quit your lecherous ways and we can talk."

Sirius shrugged.

"That's a bit private, McKinnon. Sorry but we can't tell you all," James replied. "However, if some of us get a bit closer than we are, then perhaps we could come to trust each other enough to share these secrets."

Lily pursed her lips at the suggestive look on James' face and pointedly turned to look outside. Beside her, Marlene shrugged with a chuckle.

James expertly ignored the redhead with another smirk and turned toward Harry.

"Harry, meet the remaining two Marauders. This is Remus and this is Peter. You can call them Moony and Wormtail, or Wormy for short."

Harry turned toward Remus and shook his hand before he did the same with Peter.

"Prongs," Remus began searchingly as he looked at James. "Does he…"

James nodded immediately. "Yes. Harry is the fifth marauder now. Just needs to find his special friend. That's all that remains."

Shocked, Remus looked at Harry who nodded at him with an understanding smile. The boy shakingly nodded.

The rest of the train ride passed with constant bickering between Marlene and Sirius, and James continuously trying and failing at wooing Lily over, at least until she revealed that she was also a prefect and had to go with Remus to the meeting and patrols. All the while, Harry sat there, either looking on or looking outside at the passing countryside.

He and Lily did have an occasional chat about academics when she and Remus finally returned, and if James already didn't know about his interest in Narcissa, the boy might have taken his interaction with Lily otherwise. As such, he chimed in occasionally with what he had learned over the summer, much to Harry's pride and Lily's obvious surprise.

It was in the final stretch of their journey that the girls went to the bathroom, and Sirius remarked how he had no idea why girls always went to the bathroom in groups. It was only a few minutes later when they returned, dressed in their Hogwarts uniforms.

The moment the train pulled into Hogsmeade station, the girls stood up, greeted the other three males normally, and walked out of the compartment without a glance at James and Sirius. The two boys simply shrugged, almost as if they were used to such treatment. Harry could only shake his head, yet again.

They took the carriages to Hogwarts, and Harry took time to pet the Thestral that would be pulling the carriage they were to sit in. The scene oddly reminded him of the time when they had first met Luna, and after telling the other boys about Thestrals, they got into the carriage.

Harry was supposed to be sorted upon arrival, and he found none other than Professor Flitwick waiting for him in the entrance hall alongside Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Peverell, I presume?"

Harry nodded at McGonagall, who glanced at the Marauders with a sigh before looking at him, frowning.

"Please tell me you're not involved with them. They are more than enough. We could really do without more of those."

Harry chuckled. "Trust me, Professor. I'm more sensible than those two. If it gives you any consolation, consider me another version of Remus."

"That would be more than enough for me. Thank you, Peverell. Please follow Professor Flitwick here. He'll escort you to the room where you can be sorted in front of the headmaster and the other heads of house."

Harry nodded and smiled at his friends as he followed behind the diminutive Charms professor.

"The headmaster shared your OWL results with the staff, Mr. Peverell. I must say, all of us were very impressed."

Harry smiled. "It's an honor to hear such words from someone like you, Professor. I've heard a lot about your exploits on the duelling platform. Perhaps we could have a few sessions during my stay here?"

Flitwick chuckled. "If you can keep up the good work, I'm sure we can arrange something. However, for now, your sorting awaits."

Harry walked behind the professor through the door and his eyes immediately fell on the headmaster who was standing in the middle with a chair by his side. The Sorting Hat was placed on the chair, and Harry saw it perk up as it gazed at him.

"Hmm. Older than the ones I normally sort. Well, at least there would be some change for me," the hat remarked.

Harry looked around and identified the younger-looking Professor Sprout. She had fewer wrinkles and white hair, but her eyes held the same kindness they always did, his fourth year in the previous timeline notwithstanding. He quickly looked over at the other man, and his eyes gained a calculative gleam as he gazed at the rotund old man.

This was Horace Slughorn – the Potions master, the head of Slytherin, and the man who had inadvertently aided Voldemort in his quest for immortality. The only man apart from Voldemort who had any idea about how many Horcruxes there were.

Dumbledore had explained how Slughorn had hidden that memory deep in his mind and had only parted with a fabricated one. It was a given that the man would not part with the information easily, which left him with very few options. Harry had opted to go for the non-violent route. However, if the man continued to prove difficult, he would have no other choice but to force the information out of him.

Harry smiled at the other heads of house and took his seat on the chair as instructed. The hat dropped on his head and his vision blackened.

"Hmm… interesting… very interesting…"

Harry was oddly reminded of his first encounter with the hat when it had spoken the same words. The hat chuckled in his mind.

"Oh I see it clearly… oh yes…"

"Are you going to convince me that I'd do great in Slytherin?"

"Hmm? Oh no, no, no… Not at all, Harry Potter… oh… my apologies… I meant Harry Peverell."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just get it over with, Hat. I'm honestly famished."

"You are a belligerent one, aren't you? Well, no matter. It's not Slytherin for you. That much is obvious. That house has, sadly, gone so further down the path of darkness that it would take a tremendous effort to save most of them. I'm afraid you'll end up killing most of them once you spend a few days in the House of Snakes. No, Mr. Peverell, your destiny lies elsewhere."

Harry sighed. "I had truly hoped to sway a few away from his clutches. Guess it was all wishful thinking on my part."

"Oh no. It is no wishful thinking. You can certainly save a few. However, I am afraid you can do nothing for the vast majority. Keep an open mind, Harry Peverell, and do not forget your inner Slytherin in…"

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted, and Harry felt Dumbledore take it off his head. He stood back up and returned the old wizard's smile before he looked at the other heads that were gathered. While Flitwick and Sprout gave him encouraging smiles, Slughorn's seemed to be forced. Harry chuckled. It seemed Arcturus was right once again. The man liked to collect influential witches and wizards and was disappointed that he was not one of his snakes. Harry decided to pay him no further mind. There would be numerous opportunities for him to establish himself close enough to the man. It was necessary for extracting the secret information.

Greeting the professors respectfully, Harry walked out of the room adjacent to the entrance hall where he was met by McGonagall. The old woman smiled on seeing his uniform.

"I wish you all the best in the House of Lions, Mr. Peverell. You may join your peers in the Great Hall for the opening feast."

Harry nodded and followed the way indicated by the Transfiguration mistress, even though he needed no instruction. There was barely anyone more familiar with the layout of this castle than him, after all.

He saw students still entering the Great Hall and quickly made his way over to join them.

"Ah, Lord Peverell, I see you've been sorted into Gryffindor," Lucius Malfoy's slimy voice turned borderline condescending in the end, and Harry looked at the boy. In his Hogwarts uniform, Lucius bore a striking resemblance to his ponce of a son. Harry could understand that. Draco had tried to emulate his father in every possible manner.

"Heir Malfoy," Harry greeted politely. There was no need to create a scene when he could easily avoid one.

Lucius smirked. "I'd like to introduce you to a few… associates of mine. I have two of them with me right now. This is Rudolphus Lestrange, the heir to the Ancient House of Lestrange, and his younger brother Rabastan."

Harry simply nodded, making no move to do anything else. Malfoy and his associates must have noticed because their faces became much stonier.

"I look forward to discussing matters important to the welfare of Wizarding Britain with you soon, Lord Peverell. Welcome to Hogwarts."

Harry simply nodded and watched as Malfoy and the Lestrange brothers walked through the doors without a second glance. He rolled his eyes at the idiot's pretentious behavior and walked forward, only to suddenly stop as he almost hit someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry, are you okay?" He asked, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw who he had almost stumbled into. She looked as beautiful as she did on that dinner evening. However, clad in her Hogwarts uniform, Harry had to admit that Narcissa Black was truly a vision. With her blonde hair tied in a ponytail and her uniform giving an ample hint as to what lay underneath, Harry could not help but entertain certain not-so-innocent thoughts about her.

"Careful, my Lord Peverell, or you might stumble into something you don't want to," Narcissa replied with a playful smirk before walking forward. Harry caught Bellatrix's catlike grin as she winked at him and he shook his head.

Smiling to himself, Harry walked through the large double doors and took in the sight of the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The first thing he noticed was how large the hall looked compared to his time. The four tables were much longer and extended from one end of the hall to another. He saw the raised dais in the distance and the teachers' table near the wall. A massive Hogwarts emblem was etched on the wall right behind the Headmaster's seat which was currently empty.

"Harry!"

Sirius' shout made him look over, and he smiled. Walking over, he sat down beside James.

"Knew you'd be in the best house," the Black heir remarked smugly from across him. Harry chuckled.

"There was no other house for me," he replied honestly. Gryffindor was his house, and it would always remain the one for him, no disrespect to the other three. He smiled at Remus and Peter, who gave him an uncertain one. Harry reasoned that Remus must be wondering about the fact that he knew about his furry little problem, and he resolved to talk to the boy about it.

It was only a few days before Hogwarts started that James and Sirius had filled him in on everything the Marauders knew. While Harry was happy with the trust the boys had shown in him, he was a little disappointed that they parted with such a secret so easily, particularly when it was not theirs to share.

He had told them as much, and the reply had shocked him. The Marauders trusted one another above all else, and they kept no secrets from each other. It was not as if they agreed to include any random bloke in their group. Only those they trusted implicitly were ever included, and there had been no one else so far. Harry was deeply touched by the sentiment, but the fact that they could share each other's secrets amongst themselves did perturb him slightly. It meant he could not tell them everything if they would just reveal it to the other two. Although Harry trusted Remus, he had no faith in Peter. It could be catastrophic if Peter got to know something confidential and turned out to be the traitor in the end.

He looked up and down the table, trying to see if he could recognize anyone else. Apart from the boy who bore a striking resemblance to Frank Longbottom, he could not recognize anyone else from Gryffindor.

He wondered how many had perished in Voldemort's purge and how many lost their lives fighting against him. Many had also been displaced from their homes – people choosing to flee instead of staying and either getting persecuted or murdered.

Hogwarts was so lively before Voldemort's rise to power, and even though the Slytherins still looked as unapproachable as they did in his time, things were much better now than they had been in his past.

Not for the first time, Harry resolved to do as much as he could so that he could ensure a better future, no matter how little it might be. The people he loved deserved to live a happy, long life, and so did the other innocents who had to suffer.

He smiled at Lily, who gave a tentative smile back and looked toward the entrance to the Great Hall where McGonagall led the first-years through. A new year had begun, and he was looking forward to what it would bring.

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Chapter Text

Dumbledore took his position at the podium when the desserts had been cleared, and the old wizard spread his arms invitingly, beaming at the students.

"Welcome, to another year at Hogwarts," the headmaster greeted them, his eyes twinkling. "A few start-of-the-term announcements before we retire for the night. Firstly, I would like to inform the new students that the Forbidden Forest is as the name suggests, forbidden, and even a few older students ought to remember that fact," Dumbledore stated, looking meaningfully at where a group of fifth-year Gryffindors was sitting. The boys smiled back mirthfully.

"Moving on, our caretaker Mr. Filch would like me to remind you for what he had told me is the two hundred and forty seventh time that any magic is prohibited in the corridors outside classes. Additionally, a list of forbidden items can be found affixed to Mr. Filch's office for your perusal."

"Yeah, right. As if that's ever stopped us," Sirius muttered, coaxing a smug grin out of the other three Marauders while Harry shot him an amused look.

"There is only one change in staff. Professor Webb has chosen to accept a position with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and we wish him the best in his future endeavors. As such, his position shall be assumed by Professor Tobias Hopkins."

A dark-haired middle-aged man with a thick beard and a wiry frame stood up and bowed amidst polite applause from the student body.

Harry did not recognize the man, and couldn't remember ever hearing of him.

"Hey Prongs, doesn't he look a little stuck-up?" Sirius asked in a whisper. James chuckled.

"He does, doesn't he? Think we should get him loosen up a little?"

"We could spike his food tomorrow night at dinner?" Peter piped up, grinning. James and Sirius looked at Remus, who shrugged before chuckling. "Would be funny."

"That leaves one more," Sirius replied, and as one, the boys turned to look at Harry, who pursed his lips before shrugging ruefully. "At least have a class with him before deciding."

"Eh," Sirius waved his hand dismissively.

The headmaster shortly dismissed them, and the students rose as one and started to make their way out of the Great Hall. Harry caught Narcissa's eyes once more while leaving, and the girl simply gave him a small smile as she walked away with Bellatrix in tow.

Together, they entered the Gryffindor Common Room and Harry looked around. It looked the same as it did in his original timeline, and he could not help but look over at the spot where he usually sat with his friends. Shaking his head, he followed behind the other Marauders and took a seat on the couch.

"Hey Frank, how's it going?"

Harry looked up and saw the boy who could only be Frank Longbottom chuckle from his seat on the couch.

"Nothing much. Just relaxed for once. OWLs really sucked."

"Oh come on, don't you go scaring us with that crap," James retorted with a groan. Frank chuckled before his gaze fell on him.

"You must be the transferee McGonagall told me about. I'm Frank Longbottom, the sixth-year prefect."

"Harry Peverell," Harry greeted, shaking the proffered hand with a smile. He could easily see the similarities between the man and Neville, who he now realized resembled his father a lot. The boy had gotten his brown hair from his mother, otherwise, he was a replica of his father, albeit a chubbier one.

"So you're gonna be a sixth-year as well, huh? Which subjects?"

"Transfiguration, DADA, Charms, Potions, Runes, Arithmancy, Creatures and Herbology," Harry replied. Frank whistled.

"Merlin, that's a lot. I'm personally taking only the first five. For you to take so many is indeed impressive."

"That's not the only thing impressive about this shithouse," Sirius grinned. "Frank Longbottom, sixth-year prefect of the House of Lions, allow me to introduce you to the newest seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, Harry Peverell!"

"You found one?" An unfamiliar voice sounded out, and Harry saw two redheaded boys come over with familiar smirks on their faces.

Sirius grinned at the pair, who slapped the younger boy on the back in greeting before shaking hands with the others.

"So you're our new Seeker, hmm? Hope you're good enough. Don't worry, we'll keep the bludgers away from ya. Names Fabian. This one's my ugly twin Gideon," the boy grinned as he held his hand forward.

Realization dawned on Harry and he stood up to shake the boy's hand before doing the same with his twin.

"Harry Peverell, nice to meet you two."

A few students overheard what Sirius said and whispers soon followed.

"The fuck was that, Black? Who are you to decide that without even holding the tryouts!?" A blonde wizard stormed forward, glaring at the Black heir who stared unimpressed at him.

"Vice-captain, shitstain," Sirius replied with a smirk. "And the captain scouted him."

James waved from his spot with a grin as the wizard seethed before looking at Harry. He audibly gulped, obviously seeing Harry's build and the way his eyes seemed to be glowing in the light.

"Yep, Harry is the seeker," James replied. "I have seen the prospects we have, and none of you can compare to him. Still, if anyone feels like taking him on, we can hold a tryout. I'd hate for you all to call my cousin undeserving. This Sunday evening, 5 o'clock. Don't be late or your place would be forfeit."

Harry shrugged when James and Sirius turned to look at him, and the former smirked as he looked at the entire house at large.

"I hope that's enough? Good."

Sighing, he took his seat back and made himself comfortable.

"Well, you better defend your place after that vouching, Peverell," Gideon teased.

Off to the other side near the fireplace, a small group of girls stood staring at the spectacle.

"That Potter… always wants to show arrogant he is," Lily muttered as she stared at the smirking visage of James Potter who leaned back on the couch.

"Still, at least he proposed to hold a tryout. That's got to count for something," Alice replied with a small smile. Lily snorted.

"Should've held a trial in the first place. I bet he wanted to create a scene. Needs all the attention, doesn't he?"

"Now Lily, that's overreaching," Marlene chuckled. "I mean, the captain does have the right to choose a player, and don't tell me you think anyone else has been impressive so far. We've all been to the tryouts."

"Still, he should've known acting like this would look like favoritism. I can't believe Professor McGonagall made someone like him a captain. A braggart who doesn't even know how to behave. How can someone like that be the captain?"

The other girls shrugged, choosing not to bother with the topic of the Marauders, and James Potter in particular.

"Come on, let's go. I'm tired," Lily said and got up. The other two girls followed behind her, exchanging a smirk as they looked at James Potter and back to their friend.

-Break-

His first morning back at Hogwarts dawned and Harry woke up at 5. Looking around his dormitory, he saw Frank and the Prewett twins still asleep. Sighing, he walked over to the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later, he was standing in front of the door to the fifth-year boys' dormitory and leaning against the wall. He did not have to wait for long as the door opened and James stepped out with Sirius in tow.

"Let's go then," he said and whipped out the Invisibility Cloak. James and Sirius nodded before they cast the Disillusionment Charm. It was a poor substitute for the cloak but nothing to scoff at.

Harry led them out of the Common Room and to the opposite end of the seventh floor. It was time to let them know of one of Hogwarts' biggest secrets.

"My dad told me about this room. One of the Peverells helped Rowena build it and passed the knowledge on to his descendants," Harry lied expertly as he stopped in front of the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls how to dance. "The coast is clear, right?"

Sirius, who had the Marauders' Map in his hand, nodded.

"What are you doing?" James asked with a confused frown as Harry got out from under the cloak and started to walk back and forth in front of a giant stretch of a wall. Harry continued walking and smiled when the door started to materialize.

He quickly pulled it open and gestured for the other two to get in. Once they had, he walked inside and the door vanished.

"Merlin's tits, what the fuck is this!?" Sirius exclaimed as he threw the cloak off him and looked around.

"How did you get your training room here?" James asked, equally shocked. Harry, for his part, chuckled in amusement.

"Welcome boys, to the Room of Requirement. As the name suggests, this room can turn into anything you want. It still obeys the laws of magic, so you cannot do anything magic deems impossible. Otherwise, everything is fair game."

"Holy fucking shit," James whispered, looking around in wonder. He ran his hand over the training dummy he and Sirius had started to practice on in Harry's manor, and even the textures were copied to the last, minute detail. "This is awesome!"

Harry grinned. "This will be our sanctuary every morning from five-thirty till eight. We will be practicing all we want in this room before breakfast and classes."

James and Sirius nodded.

"Hey Prongs, imagine what Moony or Wormy would say when they see this shit!" Sirius exclaimed excitedly.

"Wormy might faint, Padfoot, and knowing Moony, he'd want to read up all about it," James grinned. Harry frowned.

"Sorry, but we're not telling them," he interjected firmly. The two whirled around to stare at him in shock. "At least not yet."

"What do you mean? Why?" James asked, frowning.

"They are part of the Marauders. They too deserve to know," Sirius replied hotly.

"Do you tell those two about family secrets?" Harry asked, unfazed. The boys' eyes widened.

"Have you told them everything about the Houses of Potter and Black? You keep no secrets from them, or from each other? Tell me yes and I'll immediately go and fetch them."

James and Sirius frowned as they looked at each other.

"What? Yes or No?" Harry probed further. The boys remained silent.

"Look, I'm not their enemy. But this is something I consider a family secret, and I trust you like family. We are cousins, James. And you are like family to me as well, Sirius. That is why I told you about this room. When we tell them, or even if we tell them – it's up to me. This is my secret to share, and I have the right to choose whom I trust with this."

"Kinda hypocritical, don't you think?" Sirius retorted. "You had no problem when we told you about Moony's furry little problem. That was also his secret to share, but we trusted you with it."

Harry nodded. "Exactly. You should not have told me. That was, in my opinion, a severe breach of faith. You should've at least asked Remus before you revealed it to me."

James and Sirius looked at him in surprise. Harry sighed.

"Look. I know you four have been the best of friends, and you trust each other with everything. But we are going to be in a war. You have no idea what this monster is like. He could destroy everything you hold dear without you even knowing about it until it's already happened. You trust each other, right? Tell me then, James. If you had to choose between Peter and Lily or Aunt Dorea, who would you choose to save?"

James recoiled under Harry's intense stare, looking down.

"What? You have an answer, right? It's written all over your face. And you, Sirius," Harry turned to look at the Black heir, who looked at him in shock. "We all know you have no one else you care about so much, but let me throw this one anyway. If you had to choose between Remus and James here, who would you save?"

A long moment of tense silence prevailed as Harry stared at the two boys in silence.

"Now reverse the situation. Who do you think those two will choose when forced to between you and someone they love more than you? I don't need to tell you. You know the answer."

Harry walked over and took a seat on the couch the room conjured. Looking at the two shell-shocked boys, he sighed.

"I'm not trying to break you guys apart or anything. I'm just giving you perspective on what could possibly happen in this horrible future that is sure to come. War brings out the worst in us, and I don't want you guys to be unprepared.

"I will tell them, when I believe I trust them as much as I trust you two. The same holds for any other secret I have. Right now, we will train and get as strong as we can, and you are free to teach them whatever you might learn. However, they, and anyone else, can know or join us only when I trust them enough. I hope you understand where I'm coming from."

"We do," James replied firmly as he looked him in the eye. "However, we also expect you to understand that we can't keep things from them and then do it anyway. Sorry Harry, but Padfoot and I will now practice on our own. Thank you for trusting us with this secret, and we promise we won't tell anyone about this room."

Sirius nodded. "We won't be able to keep practicing advanced spells while keeping it from Moony and Wormy. Sorry, but it's the final day of our training with you. When you trust them enough, we'll join with them. But until then, no."

Harry sighed and gave a resigned nod. "I understand, and I respect the loyalty you two have for them. I just hope this loyalty doesn't come to bite you in the ass one day."

-Break-

Their training session that morning was a somber affair, and they got ready in the room before heading over to the Great Hall before 8 o'clock. Students had started arriving for breakfast, and Harry sat down with the other two.

"Good morning, Miss Evans, Miss McKinnon," he greeted the girls cordially. They looked at him in surprise and nodded.

"Good morning," they greeted back before Lily glared at James who was sitting beside Harry. However, her glare was soon replaced by a confused look when the boy didn't even look at her. Instead, he was silently fixing his breakfast and ignoring everything around him. Beside her, Marlene frowned when she saw Sirius doing the same.

"What? None of your usual obnoxiousness, Potter?" Lily snarked. James looked at her with a frown, before ignoring what she said and started on his breakfast. Lily looked at the boy in surprise. Harry sighed.

His eyes roamed over the Great Hall as he tried to find anyone he recognized. He smiled at Narcissa who was looking at him from the Slytherin table before returning Bellatrix's wink with one of his own. Looking over to the side, he spied Malfoy sitting with the Lestrange brothers and a few other students who Harry identified as other prospective members of Voldemort's inner circle. It seemed the circle already existed before Voldemort recruited them.

Lucius Malfoy looked over and smirked at him as he raised his glass in greeting. Harry nodded and continued to look around. A frown grew on his face before his eyes widened in recognition when he gazed at the familiar blonde witch sitting at the Ravenclaw table.

Rita Skeeter was much younger than she had been when he had last seen her, but there was no mistaking that curly blonde hair and those brown, catlike glasses of hers.

The last he knew, she had been fired from the Prophet and had started to work for the Quibbler. A fitting fall from grace for her in his opinion.

He tried to put names to different faces but always came up short until his eyes fell on the pair who entered the Great Hall one after the other.

Snape's greasy hair and hooked nose were easy enough to identify, and he was taken aback at how pasty he looked even at this young age. If he remembered correctly, Snape had insulted his mother after the incident in their fifth year when she tried to save him from his father's bullying. Harry resolved not to let the matter escalate to that extent. James had already undergone significant changes, and he hoped he could curb his tendencies even further over the upcoming year.

The other boy made him seethe. Bartemius 'Barty' Crouch Junior was one of Voldemort's prominent Death Eaters and probably the most fanatical. Harry would put him on the same pedestal as Bellatrix. However, right now, he was nothing more than a student at Hogwarts, and if Bellatrix could be so different, there might have been some hope for the boy as well.

It would be challenging, but he would need to ensure he managed to prevent a select few from joining Voldemort.

A minute later, Remus entered the Great Hall alongside Peter and quickly spotted them. Frowning, the boy walked over and took a seat beside them, with Peter sitting to his right.

"When did you guys get up?" Remus asked with a furrowed brow. James and Sirius grimaced and continued to eat.

"Quite early," Harry replied with a small smile. "We've been getting up early throughout the summer. Seems like it's become a habit."

Remus nodded. "Where were you all then?"

"On the seventh floor. Practicing a few spells in some room," Harry replied, chuckling. "Gotta keep up with the practice, you know. And these two got scolded real nice by Aunt Dorea this summer, so I'm not surprised to see them tagging along."

Remus chuckled at James and Sirius. "Serves you two right."

"It won't be a regular thing. I'd had enough of getting up early. We can practice spells after classes," Sirius said, looking at Remus, who shrugged.

"Suit yourself," Harry chuckled and looked over at McGonagall who arrived with their schedules.

"Mr. Peverell, here you are. And I hope you heed my words and not let this lot influence you too much," Harry accepted the parchment with a chuckle and looked it over. The professor handed out the fifth-year students theirs.

"You wound my heart, Professor," Sirius exclaimed exaggeratedly as he clutched the right side of his chest.

"Your heart is on the left, idiot," Marlene corrected from the opposite side with a sigh. Sirius immediately froze before clutching the left side. McGonagall stared at the boy with an exasperated look. However, Harry could see the corner of her mouth twitching slightly. She handed their schedules over and walked away.

"Well, looks like you'll be on your own from now on," James remarked with a chuckle. Harry nodded.

"And with the Slytherins too. Lucky," Sirius teased further. Harry chuckled. It was good that they were slowly coming back to their usual selves. He knew his words must be engraved in their minds and they would be thinking about what he said, but he didn't want them to stay upset over it.

"I'm sure it won't be too bad," Harry replied, chuckling.

-Break-

Harry was walking towards the Charms class. As he turned the corner, someone else rounded as well and he had to catch himself as he almost knocked the person over. His hand immediately grabbed the person's upper arm as he steadied both of them.

"I'm sorry I…"

"We seem to run into each other quite often, Lord Peverell," Narcissa Black said with a smile as she steadied herself. Harry looked at her in surprise before he chuckled.

"That we do. It's purely accidental, I assure you."

"Oh?" She raised an amused eyebrow. "And here I thought you'd been looking for opportunities to run into me."

Harry raised his eyebrow and drawled, "Really? And pray tell, Miss Black, why would I do that?"

Narcissa simply raised an amused eyebrow. Harry grinned.

"If only I were that scheming," he said, chuckling softly.

Narcissa smirked, and it was probably the sexiest thing he had ever seen.

"Well, you'll find that a few schemes are sometimes quite good. With unpredictable results. Who knows? You might like them more than you thought."

"Is that so?" He asked, his voice dropping a bit as he stared intently at the young woman, who looked up at him with that smirk of hers. This close, he could smell her flowery scent and found that he liked it very much.

"Mm-hmm. Now, if you could release your possessive hold on my arm? I'd like to get to Charms," Narcissa replied, looking at where he was still holding her close. Harry smirked and let go.

"I'm going to Charms as well. I believe it won't be a trouble if you have some company?"

Narcissa quirked her lips and started walking, leaving him to catch up. Harry chuckled and walked up beside her toward the Charms classroom.

Several paces behind them near the staircase, a certain blonde wizard stared narrow-eyed at their retreating backs, seething.

-Break-

They were among the first students to arrive, and Harry smiled at the girl as he walked over to sit beside one of the few Gryffindors he had previously talked to. Frank and the Prewett twins smirked at him as he slid in beside the former.

"Narcissa Black, hmm? You sure set your sights quite high," the boy remarked. Harry chuckled and looked over at her. She was sitting in the first seat on the left column of the classroom where he assumed the Slytherins must sit together.

"Look out for the Slytherins though," Gideon commented, his voice much more serious. "They won't take too kindly if you two get too close."

Harry scoffed. "Like I need to bother myself with a few schoolchildren."

The redhead chuckled, "My job was to warn you, that's all."

"Much appreciated," Harry replied with a roll of his eyes as the rest of the students slowly started filling the classroom. He kept his eyes on the group of Slytherin sixth-years that filed in together.

Lucius Malfoy. Rudolphus Lestrange. Corban Yaxley. Augustus Rookwood. Thomas Avery.

All were sixth-year Slytherins, and all would one day become members of Voldemort's inner circle. The Sorting Hat's warning was fresh in his mind. However, as Harry gazed at them and the disdainful looks they seemed to cast at those he knew they considered beneath them, he couldn't imagine getting any of them to change.

"Settle down, everyone," Professor Flitwick's voice rang out across the classroom. Harry looked over at the diminutive man who stood on the stack of books and didn't miss the look of disgust that crossed the aforementioned Slytherin students' faces as they gazed at him. Bigoted, and rotten to the core. He had half a mind to take care of them as soon as possible.

"First of all, let me congratulate you all on successfully passing your Charms OWLs. We shall soon begin the NEWT curriculum. During the sixth year, we will cover nonverbal casting and several combat spells like the Reductor and different Shield charms before slowly transitioning over to certain darker aspects of magic which I would let you discover when the time comes. A few utility spells will also be covered. The level of classes will be much higher than before, so I would advise you all to be prepared."

Harry nodded to himself, having already mastered everything he could possibly learn at Hogwarts. He didn't miss how the wannabe Death Eaters seemed to lean forward when Flitwick mentioned the darker aspects of magic. However, he noted with a frown that even Bellatrix seemed to show an interest.

The girl had seemed like a regular person so far with none of the tendencies that had thrown her down a terrible path. However, it seemed he had missed something. He chided himself for forming lasting impressions solely based on how the people had come across so far.

He hadn't even talked to her once, having only interacted with her at a distance. Thus, he had not had even a single opportunity to get a credible idea about her true self. There was more to this girl than he had thought initially, and he resolved to keep on the lookout. There was no way he would bother with her if she seemed to turn out as she had before.

The class progressed normally, with Flitwick asking them to try and cast all the charms they had learned up to the OWL level nonverbally. Harry had no problem, and he easily blitzed past all the OWL-level spells he recalled. Beside him, Frank gave him an appraising look.

"You sure are a prodigy, aren't you?"

Harry chuckled. "Jealous?"

"Nah," Frank laughed as he cast a silent freezing charm on his desk before silently reversing it. Harry saw and nodded.

"Not bad either."

Frank smirked. "I might not be a genius like you but I think I'm good enough."

Frank was indeed very good, and Harry understood fully well where Neville got his abilities from. He had always known that the boy was a capable wizard, and he had demonstrated it perfectly during that battle before… Harry cut off that line of thought and looked at Flitwick who was now standing in front of his desk with a small smile.

"Your OWL scores are very impressive, Mr. Peverell. However, that is no reason why you shouldn't be practicing."

"I'm already done, professor."

"Oh?" Flitwick raised an eyebrow. "Then I'm sure you won't mind demonstrating a few nonverbal spells for the class?"

Harry looked around and saw almost everyone looking at him. He noted, with furrowed brows, the malicious smirk on Malfoy and his thugs' faces. The boy had not indicated that he had any issues with him. Instead, he had expected the Malfoy heir to do his father's bidding and try to forge an alliance with him. For him to openly act like this did surprise him slightly. However, Harry didn't let it bother him. He was never going to be on cordial terms with those people. It was good that the charade had come down so soon.

Smirking back at the group, something that took them by surprise, he glanced at Narcissa who seemed to be looking at him with a look that he interpreted as equal parts challenging and expectant. Well, he would happily indulge her.

Harry flicked his wrist. His wand shot into his hand and he gave a small swish.

The majestic specter of a glowing stag emerged from his wand. Amidst the widened eyes of every person, his Patronus ran around in the air. Eyes followed the guardian like hawks, and it seemed to relish the attention as it pranced around, head raised in obvious pride.

Harry smirked in satisfaction as he took in the looks of awe and wonder directed at him, and winked at the stupefied look on Narcissa's face. The girl continued to stare at him in surprise.

However, it was the expression on the face of the girl sitting to her right that he found peculiar.

Bellatrix was staring back at him with a look that he failed to decipher the meaning of. It was not malicious or the usual mischievous one she seemed to direct at him, so that was a relief. However, it did make him feel apprehensive.

"W-well, it seems you are much further ahead than even I had expected. Do take thirty points for that brilliant spellwork, Mr. Peverell," Flitwick squeaked before composing himself. Harry thanked the man and winked at Frank and the twins, who could only shake their heads.

-Break-

"You sure you want to mess with him, Lucius?" Corban Yaxley whispered as he and the other Slytherins walked toward the Defense classroom.

"That asshole has his eyes on Narcissa Black," Lucius gritted out. "That girl is to be mine. I don't give a shit about how powerful he is."

"As much as it pains me to say it, I don't think any of us could pose a challenge to someone like that," Rookwood muttered.

"The fuck you on about!?" Avery hissed. "He's a sixth-year. Just like us. So what if he cast that Patronus? Doesn't mean shit when we all corner him."

"I don't think it'd be wise to directly confront Peverell," Rookwood added, frowning. "There is something… different about him."

"Go play that mysterious Unspeakable somewhere else, Rookwood," Lestrange snorted. "Different or no different, that Peverell has to go down."

"What did he do to get your knickers in a twist?"

Rudolphus snarled. "Don't tell me you didn't see how Bellatrix reacted to him."

"What? You think Peverell's after both? C'mon, that's outrageous."

"I don't give a shit," Lucius hissed as they rounded the corner and walked down the stairs, glaring at the figure walking in the distance with Longbottom and the Prewett twins. "The bloke needs to learn how to keep his eyes away from owned property."

"Not owned yet," Yaxley muttered quietly. Rudolphus and Lucius immediately rounded on him with glares.

"Only a matter of time," the latter hissed. "The proposals have already been sent. It won't be long until Arcturus Black agrees. It's an improvement for the daughters of a cadet branch of the Blacks to marry into one of our houses. After the disgrace that their mudblood loving daughter brought upon them, it's more than they deserve."

"Careful, Lucius," Yaxley warned, unperturbed. "The Blacks are not to be trifled with. Their alliance is still the strongest in the Wizengamot. And if things are the way they look, it seems Peverell will be joining them as well. Don't tell me you didn't see how close he seemed with Potter."

"Take my advice," Rookwood interjected. "I'd suggest you don't take any hasty steps. There are… rumors surrounding his family. I won't mess with him if I were you."

"Always knew you were a coward, Rookwood," Rudolphus snarked quietly as they sat down. "A bit of advice in return, alright? Don't believe tall tales so easily. Your dream job deals with facts. You'd suck at it if you keep this up."

"Even embellished tales have an inkling of truth to them," Rookwood replied swiftly.

"We'd talk later," Lucius interjected firmly as they arrived amongst the throng of students. His eyes bore into a certain dark-haired wizard, narrowing dangerously when he saw him once again exchange a hidden smile with the girl he had set his sights on.

There was no way he was letting anyone else lay claim to Narcissa Black, let alone this upjumped newcomer. His father had asked him to try allying the House of Malfoy with the House of Peverell. However, that was secondary. Securing the alliance with the Blacks was of utmost priority, and that meant getting Narcissa Black firmly within his grasp.

They entered the Defense classroom and took their seats to the left of the classroom. Lucius turned toward the blonde and once again looked her up and down discreetly, his eyes lingering at a few spots longer than usual. The alliance was indeed of utmost priority.

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Chapter Text

Harry and his friends took their seats near the front, waiting for the rest of the class and the professor. He glanced at Narcissa who was sitting with Bellatrix and returned her smile before looking at the dark-haired girl beside her. Bellatrix was still looking at him with that peculiar gaze that Harry failed to decipher, and he looked away. Maniacal or not, there was indeed something off about that girl.

It wasn't much later that the group which would one day be the core of Voldemort's Death Eaters filed in, sitting on the other end of the classroom. He ignored the glares a few of them seemed to direct at him and didn't fail to notice the appraising look on Malfoy's face. It was obvious that the blonde was cooking something.

The door to the right end of the classroom swung open and Tobias Hopkins entered with a purposeful stride. He was a tall man with a wiry frame. With his brown eyes and dark brown hair and beard that had streaks of gray and white, the man looked well into his fifties.

His keen eyes surveyed the entire classroom, and Harry could swear the man's eyes lingered on him more than he would've expected. He didn't know what he had done to make the wizard curious about him, but he didn't care much.

"The name is Tobias Hopkins. Former hit-wizard. I'll be gone in a year so don't get too used to my presence here," the man drawled, looking around.

"I do not know how things go around here now, but Dumbledore has told me to put special emphasis on dark curses. Now that my coursework has been decided for me," he said sarcastically, "you shall be covering the usual sixth-year curriculum that we miss on your own."

The class frowned as one. Working on the coursework on their own was nothing more than a burden they could do without.

"Cease your groans at once," the man sighed. "You are NEWT students, for Merlin's sake. At least act like it."

The class muttered inaudibly for a few seconds before silence reigned once again.

"No matter how foolish of an idea I believe this is, Dumbledore has also told me to pair students from different houses in a bid to improve inter-house relationships."

Almost all the students shot disbelieving looks at the professor, who stared back impassively. They knew what an idiotic idea that was.

"Alas, my opinion does not matter in front of the Headmaster's instructions, so this is how it will go. I cannot be bothered with playing matchmaker, so it will be random. Write your names on a parchment and drop it in these bowls," Hopkins instructed, conjuring two glass bowls, and placing them on either side of the classroom.

The students wrote their names and levitated the parchments into the bowls placed on their respective sides. Nodding, Hopkins flicked his wand and two parchments were levitated in front of him.

"Remember that there will be no reversals. I can't be bothered to waste more time than absolutely necessary on this hassle. The pairs formed shall remain as such until the end of the month. Merlin knows any more time and you lot would kill one another. You have a problem with your partner? Curse your luck. I don't care. Now, as I call your names, you better join up with your partner, and quickly," Hopkins drawled as he opened the two parchments.

"Corban Yaxley and Gideon Prewett."

Harry chuckled at the smirk on Gideon's face and the grimace on Yaxley's. His redheaded friend almost looked as if he had been handed a particularly enticing toy to play with.

"Augustus Rookwood and Katherine Goldstein."

Harry looked at the brunette who bore a striking resemblance to Katie Bell from his past before turning toward Rookwood. The boy was unassuming, and he couldn't find anything off about him. However, knowing that Rookwood was a member of the Inner Circle, there was no way he would underestimate him.

"Rudolphus Lestrange and Frank Longbottom."

Harry's fists tightened as he saw the malicious smirk on the boy's face. This was possibly the worst pairing there could be. For his part, Frank was calm and collected as he stared stonily at the boy who would unfortunately be his partner for the month.

"Bellatrix Black and Talia Smith."

Harry had no idea who the girl was. However, the surname hinted at her relation to the Smiths – a respectable pureblood house.

"Julius Carrow and Fabian Prewett."

Harry looked at the Slytherin in interest. So this was the one James and Sirius had been talking about. Fabian joined the dark-haired boy who silently slid aside.

"Narcissa Black and Harry Peverell."

Finally.

Harry gave the girl a smirk who raised a teasing eyebrow and stood up. They met in the middle before taking their seats at the front.

"Before you say something, I didn't manipulate the draw," Harry chuckled as he leaned closer. Narcissa glanced at him with a smirk.

"Neither did I," she replied. Harry smiled and stared at Fabian, who winked at him while his twin flashed a discreet thumbs up. He shook his head and as he looked around, it was impossible to miss the look of utter loathing Malfoy was directing at him. Realization dawned on him in an instant. This was why Malfoy had given up on his act of trying to stay polite.

Smirking, Harry leaned closer to Narcissa, who had been reading their Defense text. She glanced at him before shifting the book slightly so that he could read as well. Harry smiled, all the while knowing that Malfoy was staring at them with burning hatred and jealousy.

"Now that we are done with matchmaking," Hopkins drawled, staring at the pairs and particularly at those of the opposite genders. "We are going to start with a few curses I believe you should be knowing about. Peverell, apparently you got the highest OWL scores in decades. Let's see if that private instruction is limited to exams only or if you are capable enough to improvise."

Harry sighed and waited for the man to begin.

"Give me your best example for spells that are the similar and yet as different as they could be."

Harry pondered upon the answer for a couple of seconds before looking at the man.

"The Patronus and the Unforgivables," he replied, to the surprise of everyone in the classroom. He could feel their stares and see the furrowed brows of Narcissa as she glanced at him. Only Hopkins remained impassive, motioning for him to elaborate.

"Well," Harry began. "It goes without saying that the Patronus and the Unforgivables are as different from one another as can be. However, what makes them so similar to each other is the magnitude of emotions needed to cast them."

"Go on," Hopkins nodded.

"The Unforgivables won't work for you if you do not have immense hatred to fuel the spells. You have to drown yourself in that hatred. Although you do not need to hate your target, the point stands that without the emotion, you cannot cast an Unforgivable."

"Is hatred enough? Seems like an easy enough task to cast the Unforgivables then," Hopkins interjected with a chuckle. Harry frowned.

"No, apart from hatred, you do need to have the conviction to carry out the deed. You have to mean it. The same applies to the Patronus. You cannot cast it if you don't let yourself drown in happiness. The emotion must be powerful enough that it fills every part of your being. Additionally, you must have the desire within you to protect something. Without those feelings, the spell will never work for you.

"The Patronus and the Unforgivables are entirely different from each other. However, what they do align on is the requirement of a powerful emotion and a powerful motivator to cast, even though those are entirely opposite."

Most of the students were looking at him critically, as was Hopkins who gave him a curious smile.

"You seem to be intimately familiar with both the Patronus and the Unforgivables, Peverell."

Harry ignored the bait.

"My instructors were very capable and comprehensive, Professor."

"Hmm. Take five points for your house. I can make it ten if you agree to demonstrate a few spells of my choice."

Harry looked at the smirks on the Slytherins' faces and sighed to himself. No way was he backing out.

"Sure," he responded, flicking his wrist. His wand shot into his hand in an instant and he kept it pointing downward, looking at the professor expectantly.

"Since we are dealing with curses, it is apt if I ask you to cast a few. The Blood Boiling Curse, if you please. I hope your instructors told you how it works?" Hopkins asked snidely to shocked gasps from a few students as he summoned a target dummy. The man looked over at the class and snorted.

"If you are shocked at this, I'm not sure you'll be able to handle this class. Peverell, go ahead," Hopkins instructed.

Harry looked at the man with a frown. It was not the first time a Defense professor was demonstrating dark magic in a classroom. The fake Moody had cast the Unforgivables without any hesitation. However, this was the first time a professor was asking a student to use dark magic in his classroom. Harry didn't know how to feel about it.

Nevertheless, he was not one to back down. If it sent the message to those glaring Slytherin males as well, then he had no complaints.

Swiftly, he flicked his wand and a boiling orange curse shot out of it, striking the dummy right in the neck. Students watched, a few horrified, a few stoic, and a few taking sadistic pleasure. Harry took note of each expression, committing them to memory. Indeed, this Slytherin male contingent seemed more and more like a lost cause.

"Well, I didn't expect you to be so intimately familiar with the curse. Silent casting without wand movements. Truly commendable. Your instructors must be something else. The Cruciatus now," Hopkins instructed further. This time, there was a pin-drop silence throughout the classroom as the students stared at the professor as if he had grown a second head.

Harry looked at the man, and the calculating gleam in his eyes was blatantly obvious. He wondered what the man was trying to do. He felt someone grab hold of his robe under the table, and surprised, he glanced at Narcissa out of the corner of his eye who shook her head discreetly, staring straight ahead.

"Apologies, professor," Harry replied as he brought his wand arm down. "But I don't have the necessary hatred in me to successfully cast any Unforgivable."

Harry knew he was lying, and if the gleam in the older man's eyes was anything to go by, he knew it as well. However, Hopkins nodded.

"I would've been very surprised if you had succeeded in casting the spell. Very surprised indeed…"

Harry stared back stonily and flicked his wand, summoning his Patronus once again. Hopkins could not help but stare at the magnificent creature that galloped around the class as the other students watched the majestic Patronus once again in wonder.

"That should tell you enough, I feel, professor," Harry stated curtly. Hopkins nodded with an amused stare.

"Indeed. Take those five extra points for your house."

Harry nodded and holstered his wand again before taking his seat. He felt Narcissa release her hold on his robe and glanced at her. She looked at him with a frown. Harry wondered what she was thinking. He could not guess since he didn't know her either. They had shared only a few conversations and in his humble opinion, flirted a bit. As far as knowing one another was concerned, they were nothing more than strangers who were attracted to each other. At least that much was obvious.

Hopkins was a decent enough instructor; at least better than most Defense professors he'd had in the previous timeline. The man instructed them to deal with any missing portion of the sixth-year curriculum on their own. That was what the pairs were there for. Harry could only guess how things would turn out. It was no hidden secret that apart from a select few, Gryffindors and Slytherins hated each other's guts. Harry had no idea what Dumbledore had been thinking when he decided to pair the two houses. Any other combination would have been better.

Alas, it was done, and personally, Harry could not complain. Although the same could not be said about his three friends. While Fabian and Gideon were having fun with their partners, the atmosphere between Frank and Lestrange could only be described as hostile.

"Since we're paired together for the month, what do you say we study together outside the class as well? Pretty sure we could help each other out, what d'you think?" he asked Narcissa, who raised an amused eyebrow before shrugging.

"Why not?" She nodded with a chuckle and walked away with Bellatrix who once again stared at him with that peculiar look. He was approached by Frank who exchanged another glare with the brute that was Rudolphus Lestrange.

"All good mate?"

Frank gave him a stink eye which coaxed a small laugh out of him.

"Let's go."

Chuckling, Harry was joined by Fabian and Gideon as they walked with Frank out of the classroom.

-Break-

By the time it was dinner, James and Sirius had returned to their usual selves – joking around with their friends and having fun in general. Meanwhile, Harry sat with them, occasionally taking part in whatever scheme they seemed to be cooking up.

"So Harry mate," Sirius began with a conspiratorial whisper. "You were gonna scout Hopkins, right? What do you say now? Needs to loosen up a bit, right?"

Harry sighed. Hopkins was indeed not what he had expected. But then, he didn't know what he had expected. He had never heard of the man previously, so he didn't have anything to base his opinion on.

The man was curt, and there was no doubt in Harry's mind that he was very much an advocate of dark magic use. He recalled what had happened in the Defense classroom a few hours ago.

Sirius stared at the frown on Harry's face and exchanged a nod with James.

"All right then, we'd already decided we were going to prank him after that class. Now it's final. We'll be taking him down a peg."

"What happened?" He asked with a frown. Sirius and James grimaced as they looked at Remus who had been more subdued than normal.

"The asshole is nothing more than a bigot. He was talking about dark creatures and made some… pathetic comments about all werewolves. How they are nothing more than filthy beasts who should be put down, and that's the sanest comment of the lot."

Harry sighed and gestured for James to sit with Remus, who nodded and scooted over.

It seemed Hopkins was indeed pathetic. He might have backtracked, but there was no doubt in his mind that the man had been baiting him to use of the Cruciatus. Harry didn't know if he could still cast the curse. He had never tried to use any Unforgivable since that night, and he had no intention of using those curses either. Even though Narcissa had stopped him from using it a few hours ago, he was not going to cast the curse anyway.

Whatever Hopkins' game had been, Harry couldn't care less. Sirius and the other Marauders could have fun with him. However, if the man did try to step out of line, then he would have no choice but to teach him a lesson.

"You guys wanna prank Hopkins?" Gideon asked with a smirk.

Sirius nodded, grinning as he leaned closer to the boy. "If you'd like some extra gifts for the stuck-up git, I'm all ears."

"Take a seat, my dear man," the redhead patted the free seat to his left, and Sirius quickly joined him. Harry saw them grinning conspiratorially and shook his head. Nothing good could come out of it.

Well, it wasn't as if the man didn't deserve it after everything that had happened today, and Harry was not feeling particularly concerned for him either. If he wanted to be the asshole, he could do with a little humiliation.

It was half an hour later when they were done with dinner and all eight Gryffindor males got up and walked out of the Great Hall together.

As they rounded the corner where the giant staircase began, their path was blocked by several wizards clad in the green and silver of Slytherin.

Harry recognized everyone and one by one, he put a name to the faces.

Malfoy and the older Lestrange brother were leading the group, and he identified Yaxley, Rookwood, Avery, MacNair, Mulciber, Rowle, Nott, the younger Lestrange brother, Snape, Crabbe, and Goyle. A total of thirteen wizards who would go on to become members of Voldemort's Inner Circle. One look and it was enough for Harry to know that there was no hope of saving this group. Even Snape, who Harry had always had mixed feelings about, looked like he belonged.

"Ah, Heir Malfoy. What can I do for you and your friends?" Harry asked casually. He could see students stopping in the distance, keenly watching this 13-versus-8 confrontation. A fair distance behind them, the Black sisters and Lily's group had also stopped, watching, either curious, excited, exasperated, or apprehensive.

Malfoy gave him a disgusting sneer, and Harry had to sigh. It seemed he had given Lucius more credit than he deserved. But then the man had gotten into a brawl with Arthur Weasley in the middle of Diagon Alley when it was the most crowded, so he didn't know why he expected the boy to be more calculating.

Draco had to get his impulsiveness from somewhere.

"It's a shame," Rudolphus spoke instead, his voice dripping with unveiled disgust. "Another great pureblood house becoming infested with blood traitors. And looks like it will end with the same blood traitor as well."

Harry gave the boy a confused look before he turned to look at Frank who was glaring heatedly.

"Tell me Frank," he began in a confused voice. "When did they create a spell that would let a troll speak?"

"You better watch yourself, Peverell," Rudolphus growled. "I don't care which house you are from. I'll destroy you."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the threat, drawling, "Really? Tell me something first. You just had your dinner, right?"

The boy looked at him with a confused glare. Harry chuckled.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just you have a little gravy on your chin. Not washing your mouth after eating, Lestrange? Even little children know better," he shook his head in mock disappointment. "This is the example of the epitome of pure blood? A troll who can't even wash his mouth after eating? Must say, I'm quite… disappointed."

Before anyone could speak, Harry continued, "You know, Lestrange, you might have a gravy kink but there would barely be any woman who would appreciate the mess. Still, I have to credit you. You've managed to arrange this large group of twelve other men who represent the epitome of blood purity. I must say, you've got quite an appetite. Good for you."

Harry could hear the stifled laughs amidst the hilarious uproar from his seven companions as he smirked. Looking at Lestrange's face, it was clear that the insult had gone over his head. However, seeing everyone laughing, the boy at least understood that he had been insulted.

"I expected better of you, Peverell," Lucius interjected in mock disappointment once the laughs subsided. "You could have made allies with the right families, but you chose to go with the blood traitors. A true shame on purebloods indeed."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm a proud half-blood then," Harry replied with a smirk. Lucius' sneer deepened.

"I see. Then it seems I was wrong in expecting anything from someone with filthy blood in his veins. Seems fitting that you'd go on gallivanting with other blood traitors and mudbloods," Lucius hissed with a final glance behind him. Harry turned his head slightly and saw Lily standing with her two friends, a stoic look on her face as she heard what the Malfoy heir said. Beside her, Marlene and Alice bristled as they glared.

Rage burned in his veins as he realized what Lucius was getting at. He was perfectly fine with trading insults, but he drew a line at someone insulting people he loved. Right at that moment, Harry decided that he would kill Lucius Malfoy. But before that, he would destroy him. He would take everything away from the asshole before allowing him the sweet mercy of death. His task was to prevent as many people as he could from joining Voldemort. Well, it was a good thing that one could not join him after death.

"You really are as slimy as you look, Malfoy. Must run in your bloodline," Harry hissed with a glare. "Your shitstain of a father was as slimy when he was practically kissing my arse back in the ministry. But then what else can he even do? Upjumped peasants from across the channel that you lot are, sucking up and bending over is the only way you could hope to get anything in life. Little did your wretched ancestors knew you'd be so used to kissing arse that it'd become the norm for your ilk. I truly pity the women of your family. Must be wishing they were better at swallowing."

This time, none of the students tried to hide it and most of them dissolved into peals of laughter. Harry could feel his friends clapping him on the back as they hooted loudly. Meanwhile, Lucius' face turned so red Harry thought the boy might blow up like Vernon's sister.

"You dare!" The blonde shouted as he went for his wand. However, before his hand could move even an inch, his eyes bugged out in shock.

"Try me, Malfoy," Harry whispered dangerously, keeping his wand firmly pointed under the blonde's chin, who stared at him with wide eyes. "I dare you. Just try me."

He could feel Luna in the back of his mind, raring to jump out of his shadow and rip Malfoy's throat out but he firmly instructed her to stay put. He didn't want to reveal her to the masses.

It didn't take long for the rest of the Slytherins to point their wands at them, and the Gryffindors followed suit. A stalemate ensued – twelve wands against seven while Harry kept his under Malfoy's chin. The boy stared at him, frozen in place. He hadn't even seen Peverell move.

"What happened, Malfoy?" Harry whispered again with a feral smirk. "Going got tough for you, you inbred weakling?"

He spat to the side and pulled his wand back. However, the others kept their wands pointed forward.

"Lads," he looked at his friends, who glared at the Slytherins before putting their wands away. He nodded and turned to stare the Slytherins down. All were glaring at him with utter loathing, and Harry knew he was not going to try to convince even a single one of this group to veer away from the dark path. All thirteen were on his radar now, and they could go and die for all he cared.

"Listen, and listen well. I will not repeat this," he began in a warning tone. "Stay clear of my lane and I will do the same. Come after me and I won't hesitate in tearing you apart, limb by limb. And believe me, I will take absolute pleasure in doing so. Goodnight."

With a parting sneer, Harry waved his wand, pushing the boys in the middle to either side and creating a pathway for himself and his friends. The Slytherins stumbled and glared at him, which he easily ignored. He waited for his friends to go ahead and kept staring Malfoy down, who continued to glower cowardly at him. With one final glare at the gathered wizards, Harry walked forward.

"You fucking bastard!" Rudolphus shouted as he reached for his wand once again. It seemed he really had a troll brain.

Before the brute could even raise his wand, Harry sent a powerful banishing charm toward the boy. Everyone watched as the spell hit its intended target as Rudolphus was sent careening against the wall where he collided with a painful grunt and fell into a heap.

"I warned you, asshole," Harry growled and stalked forward as the Slytherins brandished their wands once again. He didn't care. However, he paused as someone suddenly grabbed him from behind.

"Calm down, Harry! You've made your point," Frank grunted as he tried to pull him back. Harry glared at the Slytherins hatefully as his friends tried to calm him down while a few had their wands pointed forward, ready to deal with any trouble. They might be outnumbered but Gryffindors that they were, they didn't care.

Looking over, Harry saw tens of students watching the altercation with wide eyes. His eyes met the wide ones of Lily and her friends who were staring in shock before they fell on a pair of familiar gray orbs.

Taking a deep breath, Harry swallowed and nodded at Frank, even though he wanted nothing more than to teach this group of assholes a very deserving lesson. The Longbottom heir released his hold. Looking down at the Slytherins with nothing but utter disdain, Harry sneered.

"I told you I don't like repeating myself. Heed my words, or ignore them at your own peril. Your choice."

With one final glare, he turned around and climbed the stairs with long, purposeful steps as his friends followed behind him. Meanwhile, the Slytherins either gritted their teeth in rage or went over to check on Rudolphus, all the while trying to ignore how they had frozen in fear when subjected to Peverell's rage a few moments ago. A few of them sighed, recalling how they had advocated against this course of action a few hours ago, only for their words to be thrown aside as if they were immaterial. Now, they had made an enemy out of someone they did not think they could challenge. They could do nothing but curse the others.

Slowly, the other students dispersed to their respective common rooms until the entire corridor leading up to the staircase was devoid of anyone, almost as if nothing had ever happened.

-Break-

"Merlin, that was hot!"

Narcissa Black sighed as she started undressing. Leave it to her dear twin to trivialize something so serious.

"Are you out of your mind, Bella?" She sighed. "I don't know what he was thinking, confronting the worst our house has to offer like that. I thought he had more tact."

"Oh loosen up, Cissy!" Bellatrix chuckled. "Peverell had it all under control. Didn't you see how easily he dressed both Lucy and Rudy down? Merlin, I almost came right then and there."

Narcissa scrunched her nose in disgust.

"You're incorrigible, Bella," she groaned, staring at her sister who was lying on her bed, caressing her neck. "What are you doing?"

Narcissa stared at her sister in shock as she took her tie off before unbuttoning her shirt, revealing her large breasts encased in a black bra.

"Merlin, Cissy," she whispered, squeezing her breast. "You have no idea how hot he makes me."

"Huh?" Narcissa squeaked as her sister pulled the bra down and freed up her breasts.

"I can feel his power wafting all over me, Cissy. As if he's hugging me oh so intimately… oh yes…" Bellatrix sighed, tweaking her hard nubs as her sister stared in shock. "When he cast that Patronus silently, I can't tell you how I held myself back from jumping his bones right then and there."

"B-Bella… stop this…"

Bellatrix ignored her sister and instead, she buried one hand under her skirt. Narcissa could not help but notice her fingers moving beneath the fabric.

"I took care of myself after lunch," Bellatrix continued. "I thought I was done for the day… but that bastard… ohh!"

Narcissa jumped as her sister cried out whorishly, and she stared wide-eyed at her. It was good that they were the only two sixth-year girls in the Slytherin, otherwise, given the state her sister was in, she would've surely put on a show for their other dormmates.

Bellatrix looked at her twin with a wanton smile, and Narcissa couldn't help but look into her haunting eyes that gleamed with an emotion she couldn't decipher.

"Then he had to go and destroy Lucy and Rudy like that, knowing he had more wands against him. That magnificent bastard! Fuck!"

Narcissa watched as her sister's bed was flooded with what was undoubtedly her release, and she fell on her bed in utter shock. Her sister had just masturbated in front of her while fantasizing about someone humiliating someone else and displaying his power. If that was not disturbing enough, she was fantasizing about Harry – the person she was attracted to.

She was not immune to his effects. It was an attraction at first sight. They had not interacted much, but they had certainly exchanged letters and talked a few times. Narcissa had liked those moments, and the hope that something might develop between them was very much alive within her.

However, her sister was also fantasizing about the same person, and if she guessed it correctly, it was primal lust borne out of Harry's power. Narcissa had no idea what kind of fucked-up psyche her sister possessed that made her like this.

"He's going to destroy them, Cissy," Bella chuckled as she lay there half-naked with her orgasmic juices pooling on her bed. "Rudy, Lucy, and all their halfwit associates won't know what hit them. Merlin, it would be so hot! Imagine, Cissy, Peverell destroying all of them, standing tall and proud as he rains down righteous judgment on them for all their dirty deeds. I swear I feel like I'm gonna cream from the thought alone!"

"You're disgusting, Bella," Narcissa whispered, still in shock. Bellatrix looked at her sister and smirked.

"Oh my prudish twin, it seems Mother Magic blessed me with all the lust if you didn't feel anything in your loins watching that sight," Bellatrix grinned lecherously. "I can bet every girl who was in our classes or who saw that scene felt something down there – a deep desire to just give in and mount that wizard!"

Narcissa glared at her sister for that comment.

"Just because I'm not openly flaunting my nakedness and getting off on this fucked-up thought of being attracted to someone's power doesn't mean I am prude, Bella," she hissed as she undressed and began to put on her silky thin top and pajama shorts that she usually wore to sleep.

"Mm-hmm, I agree. That sexy body would be wasted on a prude. Mother Magic won't be so wasteful," Bellatrix agreed with a smirk as she stared at her twin's naked figure. "And wipe off that jealous frown from your face, Cissy. It doesn't suit you."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Narcissa lied unconvincingly. To know that your sister was getting off openly at the thought of someone you were attracted to was bound to unsettle you.

Bellatrix grinned at her twin's discomfort. "Don't worry, Cissy. I have no intention of stealing your man. I'll never do something like that to you."

"He's not my man," Narcissa replied promptly as she got under the covers of her bed. She pulled them up to her chin and flicked her wand to dim the lamps.

"If you say so. Even then, I have no intention of stealing him away from you," Narcissa heard her sister whisper and she looked over to see Bella dropping all her clothes to the floor. Even in the dim lights, her sister's alluring body was easily visible, and so was the glistening wetness all over her inner thighs.

Bellatrix turned to look at Narcissa and gave her a wink. "But I'm sure you could loan him out to me every now and then?" She whispered sultrily.

Narcissa stared at her disbelievingly.

Bellatrix continued unabashedly, "After all, we're twins – two halves of a whole. We've shared everything, from clothes to jewellery and so much more. Why not share a lover as well?"

"Bella what the fuck!?"

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Chapter Text

Harry strode through the door to the Gryffindor common room followed by the other seven wizards. Students already present inside stared at the fuming wizard with wide eyes before they saw his entourage. All eight wizards went over to the empty couch and took their seats.

The Marauders, Frank, and the Prewett twins stared at Harry apprehensively. The dark-haired boy still looked furious as he seemed to be gritting his teeth, his eyes steely and glaring at the fireplace.

Fabian quickly erected a privacy bubble around them and asked what was on everyone's minds.

"Mate, what was all that about?"

Harry glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"You really looked like you'd have killed him. Malfoy too," Remus remarked with a frown. Even though he had stood steadfast behind his friends, the incident had disturbed him. It felt as if there was much more to it than any one of them could fathom. Anyone apart from Harry, who seemed to be burning the fireplace with his glare.

Finally, Harry broke the silence after a couple of minutes and looked toward them at large.

"Let's just say that was a prelude to what I fear is coming and leave it at that for now. You'll know soon enough."

Sirius and James immediately looked at each other before they turned toward Harry as one, who pursed his lips and nodded. That was enough to convey the message, and nothing else needed to be said further.

"What do you mean?" Frank asked curiously. "If it's something serious, shouldn't we all know about it?"

"Oi, I'm right here. You know enough about me," Sirius replied, earning exasperated looks from the gathered wizards. "And who cares what that was all about? Fact remains that this lad here put the fear of Merlin himself in those dickheads. It was a long time coming anyway."

Frank and the Prewett twins looked at each other before they sighed.

"Lucky you, I guess. I've got to tolerate that fuck Lestrange for the entire month," Frank muttered. "I've been paired with him in Defense," he elaborated for the fifth-years who winced.

"Ah, can't envy you mate. Lucky that we managed to avoid his shitty brother."

"We've still got those assholes though," James reminded his best friend who winced.

"Point taken. But hey, at least Evans didn't get Snivellus. Could you imagine having his greasy hair loitering around your girl for the entire month?" Sirius chuckled.

"Thank Merlin for that. Still, I didn't expect Snivellus to join that lot so soon. Think we should take him down a peg?"

Harry tuned them out as he stared at the little group that came through the door. Lily, Marlene, and Alice looked over at them with visible frowns as they took their seats on the chairs near the fireplace. He sighed.

He had not expected to lose control like that. He had been thinking about trading a few insults like he used to do with Malfoy and his cronies. However, when Lucius called Lily the M-word, something in him snapped. Suddenly they were not the fifth and sixth-year Slytherin students, but Voldemort's Death Eaters who had killed his friends in the Ministry. The bandage he had wrapped around that wound came off a little at that instant, and he had lost control over his rage.

Harry knew he would have seriously maimed Rudolphus Lestrange and possibly a few other Slytherins as well had Frank not intervened and pulled him back. It had been a huge challenge to bring himself under control. However, seeing the shocked look in his teenage mother's eyes as well as those gray orbs he was slowly coming to admire had managed to tether his mind to the plane of realism.

However, he was fairly calm now. That veil of rage had been lifted from his mind now that he had been away from that situation for a short while. However, that did not mean he could easily forget what had happened.

That confrontation had been enough to tell him that his efforts were wasted on them. He had not wanted to bother with them in the first place, but now it was decided for good. Those thirteen wizards could go and join Voldemort. There was no saving them from his wand. He would take care of them as he deemed fit.

Yet he had to remind himself not to lose control like that. There would be many more confrontations in the future, and he could not let himself be led on by that group. One misstep on his part and he could be the target of the justice system, biased as it was, and he knew he would do well to steer clear of that.

He would act, but not in a way that would implicate himself.

"I'm going to bed," Harry announced suddenly and stood up, to the surprise of his friends who frowned before giving him understanding nods. Nodding back, he turned around and walked up the stairs. He was fully aware of the numerous pairs of eyes following him on his way to his dormitory, and Lily's emerald ones in particular. However, he steadfastly ignored them and climbed up the stairs.

Once Harry left, Fabian took down the privacy bubble. However, the moment he did so, three familiar witches came over and sat on the couch right opposite them.

"What was that?" Lily asked firmly. "And don't give me your usual Gryffindor versus Slytherin crap. That was more than that, and you all know it."

The entire house in attendance seemed to listen keenly.

"Yes, it was not simple house rivalry, Evans. Anyone could tell that," James retorted darkly, to Lily's surprise. That was not a tone she had expected Potter to use, at least with her. Usually, it was his flirtatious demeanor that she was accustomed to, so this came as a surprise to her. "However, it's not my story to tell. Perhaps Harry could tell you if he wants to. Now, if that is all, I'd like to head over to sleep. Goodnight."

With a curt nod, James got up and walked upstairs. Marlene frowned when Sirius only glanced at her and followed his friend.

"Well, looks like things are indeed going to be interesting," Gideon muttered with a chuckle. "And we have Slytherin partners as well. Let's see how it turns out."

Lily and her friends sat there as one by one, the boys stood up and went to their respective dormitories. She returned Remus' small smile before he was out of sight as well.

"Something's wrong with those two," Marlene muttered. "Normally, Black won't miss making a snarky or crass comment, but so far, he's not done that even once."

"Potter used to pester me like anything until last year. Now, even though he acts like a prat, he's barely bothered me since the Express."

"You think something's going on that we don't know about?" Alice chimed in, frowning. "Before you ask, Frank doesn't know either."

"How do you know that already?"

"He shook his head when I looked at him," Alice replied. Marlene sighed.

"I don't know, but I feel it's all connected to Peverell. They have been completely different ever since he came into picture."

Marlene nodded as she looked at Lily. "You're going to approach him? To ask what today was all about? That shit was bloody serious."

Lily sighed. "I've not decided yet. Maybe. I'll see. Come on, let's head to bed as well."

-Break-

"Bella what the fuck!?" Narcissa cried out in shock, bolting upright as she flicked her wand and ramped up the lamps once again. Her wide eyes stared at her twin, only to find her grinning.

"What?" Bellatrix asked with a curious tilt of her head as she sat on her bed and crossed her legs.

"Do you even think before saying these things!? I can't believe you'd really think of something like that!"

"What do you mean, Cissy? I thought you'd happily do something so little for your dear twin," Bellatrix pouted. "You want him all to yourself, don't you? Selfish Cissy!"

Narcissa stared at her sister with a deep frown.

"You know what? I can't bother with you right now, not when you're like this. Go to sleep, Bella."

Flicking her wand, Narcissa dimmed the lamps once again. Pulling the covers up to her neck, she kept staring at the dark ceiling of her dormitory.

Her sister had always had a fickle mind. That was the biggest reason why she had been unable to learn even the basic level of Occlumency. She had been the one most affected by Andi's departure, often having weird episodes. So many times had Narcissa heard Bella cry herself to sleep. However, she had never seen her act or do something like this. It seemed as if she was almost… fanatically obsessed with Harry.

'No, not Harry. His power, maybe. But not him,' Narcissa reminded herself of Bella's words. Never once had her sister referred to him as a person; always talking about his power and what how he wielded it. Bellatrix didn't want Harry, nor did she have feelings for him. Instead, she craved the power she had seen in Harry.

Being so obsessed with someone just because of their power… Narcissa failed to understand how that thought worked. But it concerned her very much. This obsession of Bella was very dangerous. Still, it was comparatively acceptable, Narcissa considered, for her sister to be attracted to Harry because of his power. He didn't strike her as someone who would use someone for his personal gain, or Merlin forbid, to satiate his urges. However, what if she came across someone more powerful than Harry? And what if it was someone dangerous? Narcissa didn't even want to think about it.

One thing was certain though. Her sister was not okay. Even after that abhorrent proposal of hers, Narcissa could not help but feel concerned for her. She had heard from some muggleborn students that the muggle world had healers who dealt with the issues of the human mind. However, the wizarding world had no concept of these mind healers.

Sighing, Narcissa closed her eyes and went to sleep. She would think about her idiot of a sister some other time.

-Break-

Harry lay in his four-poster bed surrounded by curtains on all four sides, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness of the sixth-year boys' dormitory. His mind kept replaying the encounter from a few hours ago.

Things were indeed bad, and he had to admit that it would not take much effort for Voldemort to conscript the Slytherins to do his bidding. All those people were members of pureblood families with hereditary seats on the Wizengamot, giving them power in the legislature as well.

Not for the first time, Harry wondered if it wouldn't be prudent on his part to take care of them one by one. However, he did not want to do it. Perhaps it was the humanity within him, or maybe the fact that they had not done anything yet. Abhorrent as they might be, it didn't give him the right to take permanent measures against them when they were innocent of any tyranny.

"But can I afford to take the risk?" He whispered to himself. They might not have done anything, but he did not doubt that it was only a matter of time before they started on their journey to being some of the most heinous individuals the Wizarding World had to offer.

"Can I let them go on, knowing that in some time, numerous innocents will suffer under their atrocities? Can I live on, knowing that their suffering could've ended if only I had done something?" He whispered. "It's not as if I don't know anything. I have the entire knowledge, or as much as possible. Yet, I am not doing anything with that knowledge…"

He had been at Hogwarts for only a short while, and already he had obtained a measure of several students who he knew would one day join Voldemort. They had their cruelty even now, and he did not doubt that there was no way he could dissuade them from joining that maniac.

"Wouldn't it be better if I nip the bud before it could become poison?" He whispered.

He had no morally correct answer to that question. For the first time since he had arrived in this timeline, Harry understood the burden he carried. His foreknowledge and his morality were at war, and he found he could not make a concrete decision. It was the biggest dilemma he had ever encountered in his short life.

He could indeed deal with all the hostiles who he knew would become Death Eaters in the near future, and he was also fairly confident in his ability to manage it without implicating himself. However, killing them before they had done anything didn't sit right with him.

The same applied to Pettigrew. Every time he looked at the boy, he had to vehemently control himself from lashing out and killing the traitor. However, the rat was the complete opposite of what he had expected, and if he was being honest, he found him entirely harmless. James and Sirius had talked to him about the other two Marauders. Although not very remarkable in any particular field, Pettigrew was a diligent student. The fact that he had successfully become an animagus before his fourth year at Hogwarts spoke of his magical abilities.

Yet, Harry found it hard to look past the events that had happened in the previous timeline. Arcturus had told him again and again to not judge people based on his opinion on their future selves, but that didn't mean it was easy. Time and again he had to hold himself back, arguing with himself that he could not simply decide to play judge, jury, and executioner, no matter how much the voice inside him wanted to.

That brought him to his decision of keeping vigil over Pettigrew to the extent manageable. The moment he aroused any red flags, he would not hesitate in dealing with the rat.

The less he said about Bellatrix, the better it was. The woman had killed Neville and Sirius in that battle. However, instead of being a maniac who took pleasure in making people suffer, he had so far found her to be a rather cheeky young woman who had barely done more than wink at him. If he looked past the notion he had of her grown-up self, he could easily admit that she was an attractive and charming woman without an ounce of malice in her bones, at least based on as much as he had understood her so far. What truly lay inside her mind was something only she knew, but given she had not batted an eye when he had come out as a half-blood, it had certainly earned her some points in his book.

Yet, he could not afford to relax around her. She was not Voldemort's most fanatical for nothing. He did not doubt that there was something wrong with her. Otherwise, she would not have become what she did become in the future.

He had a small plan, or at least the makings of one. Bellatrix was in his class along with Narcissa. He was already intending to get close to Narcissa for personal reasons. It would not be too much of a bother to establish himself with Bellatrix as well. Nothing too extreme – a simple gesture of friendship and support would be enough for now. That would enable him to gain more insight into the kind of person she truly was, and possibly influence her away from the clutches of Voldemort as well.

He could've killed her, but two things held him back. He had promised Arcturus that he would try to save as much of his family as he could, and Bellatrix was too powerful an asset to be wasted. If she was on his side, he knew that she would prove to be a significant advantage in the upcoming conflict.

As for the hostiles in Slytherin, he decided to do what he intended to do with Pettigrew. Even an inclination that they had done anything wrong and he would deal with them without any care or concern for the possible extinction of their bloodline.

His secondary promise to Arcturus could fuck off for all he cared.

-Break-

The next morning dawned and Harry twitched in his bed, breathing softly and blearily opening his eyes. The Tempus showed that it was time for him to wake up. He sighed.

His legs dragged him out of his four-poster bed and in no time, he had freshened up and was walking under his cloak toward the Room of Requirement. Now that he had a definitive motive and the means, he was going to leave no stone unturned. He was not delusional enough to think that he was able to face Voldemort in a battle right now. No matter how much he had trained under Arcturus, he was still not ready.

That didn't mean he could not get ready for the inevitable clash. The Room of Requirement would be an immense help in that regard.

An important part of his plans would commence today. It was the first time he would attend Slughorn's lessons, and he needed to entrench himself firmly with the man. Garnering his trust was essential since the man held the secret to the number of Horcruxes, and there was no way he would divulge it to any random person. That meant he would need to become his closest ally.

He could always use force to extract the information. However, he didn't want to abuse an innocent. He had to consider another factor that Slughorn might have protected that memory in such a manner that only he could divulge it voluntarily. There were secret mind arts that enabled a person to do so, and it would be counterproductive if something happened to the man because he couldn't exercise patience.

No, earning the man's trust was the best way to go.

He arrived back to a slowly arising dormitory and greeted his friends before he started to get ready for the day.

"You'd be okay with Lestrange, Frank?"

The Longbottom heir turned to look at him and snorted.

"Gotta sit with him. I've no other option anyway, and it's not as if the idiot can do anything in the classroom anyway. Hopkins might seem like an asshole but even he won't allow that."

Harry nodded. Frank looked at him and smirked.

"Not that you have any need to worry about anything, given who your partner is."

Harry's response was to throw a silent stinger at the young man, who jumped away with a grin.

"Not another word from you," he warned jokingly and grabbed his robe. "I'll see you three in the common room. Don't take too long."

He nodded toward Frank and the Prewett twins as he walked out of the dormitory.

"And I'm telling you to mind yourself around Snivellus. Is it that hard to understand!?"

Harry frowned as he descended the stairs and came over near the entrance to the common room. He looked over from behind the wall and saw an agitated Sirius. McKinnon was staring at the boy with a frown. Off to the side, he spotted Lily glaring at Sirius and the other Marauders standing with Alice, frowning. There were only a few students in the common room, and all seemed to be staring at the drama that was unfolding.

"I told you to not call him that, Black!" Lily retorted hotly as she joined McKinnon, glaring. Sirius ignored her and continued to stare McKinnon down.

"What's your deal?" The blonde asked with a sigh. "I'm sure Snape won't do anything in front of everyone anyway."

"You don't know what he's like," Sirius barreled on. "Just… mind yourself. I won't have said this if it was any of those snake chicks, but Snivellus and his group of thugs are scum you should be mindful of."

"That's enough from you now! I don't care what you call the others, but Severus is not like them, and I'll ask you again to not call him that," Lily glared.

"Not like them?" James asked with a mirthless chuckle as everyone turned to look at him. "Then I believe you need to consult Madam Pomfrey, Evans. Either your eyes don't work anymore or your brain can't comprehend the obvious. None of those are good for anyone, yourself included."

"Mind yourself, Potter," Lily retorted, glaring fiercely at the Potter heir.

"No, it's you who needs to mind yourself," James stepped forward and invaded Lily's personal space, glaring back. Everyone's eyes widened as Lily staggered in shock, and Harry had to force himself to remain hidden behind the wall and only watch. It wouldn't do to intervene, not when they were like this.

No one could believe that James was behaving like this with Lily of all people.

"Wh-what are y-you…"

"Do you have any idea what's going on outside? Any inkling of how bad things are going to get!?" James asked harshly, glaring at the redhead who stared at him with wide eyes. "You were there yesterday. Didn't you say yourself that it wasn't some Gryffindor versus Slytherin bullshit?"

"Y-yeah but —" Lily tried. James cut her off.

"That didn't look like normal schoolyard fight to you, right, Evans? Then tell me this: where was this precious friend of yours? Oh yes, with that group of pathetic assholes and pointing his wand at us with that nasty smirk on his wretched face. And yet here you are, defending his sorry ass. I guess that brain of yours is only capable of dealing with academics. A small advice, if you can be bothered to take it. Learn to understand how the world works."

Lily fumed, glaring.

"And you know all about how the world works, huh? That's why you go around, humiliating others and taking pleasure in their suffering?"

"If you think what we do is even remotely comparable to suffering, as you put it, then you have no bloody clue what suffering truly is. You have so much faith in this friend of yours, huh?" James scoffed. "This illusion of yours will be shattered soon enough. I just hope you'd be strong enough to take it. Come, Padfoot. There's no use in beating your head against a wall."

With a sneer, James walked away. Everyone stared at him with wide eyes, and try as she might, Lily couldn't take her eyes off him. She was still glaring, but the frown on her face was blatant for everyone to see.

"I'm telling you for the last time, McKinnon," Sirius tried once again. "Mind yourself around Snivellus, and each one of those assholes you saw there yesterday in general."

"Why are you telling me all this?" McKinnon asked with a sigh. "Don't you have any new pranks to pull? New witches to woo? Isn't that how your day goes normally?"

Sirius grimaced but didn't say anything.

"You better go and mind your business, Black. I'll deal with my problems. You don't need to concern yourself."

"Noted," Sirius replied stonily and walked away.

"Padfoot!" Remus shouted, and with an apologetic look toward an uncaring Lily and a frowning McKinnon, he rushed after his friend. Pettigrew followed behind quickly.

"Just who does he think he is!?" Lily hissed, glaring at the floor. Harry chose that moment to emerge from behind the wall and their eyes immediately fell on him.

"Peverell!" Lily called out with a glare. Harry raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Lily!" Alice hissed as she pulled her friend, who turned to look at her. A pointed look from her friend made her grimace and she turned to look at him with a much more controlled demeanor.

"Can I help you?" He decided to ask, already having an idea what this was going to be about.

"I… uh… I mean we'd like to talk to you about something."

Harry nodded, gesturing for her to continue. Lily grimaced as she looked around at all the students staring at them. Harry sighed and waved his wand around them, erecting a privacy ward.

"Private enough. Now what is it?"

"Did you hear what happened here just now?" She asked with a sigh.

Seeing no point in feigning ignorance, he nodded.

"Do you have any idea what all that was about? Potter…" she pursed her lips. "He's always been a bother, but he's never talked to me like that. Something's changed this year. You met them before school started, right? Did something happen?"

"Yes, I met James and Sirius before school started. As for what happened when I first met them? That's not something I should tell anyone. If you want to know, ask them. They would tell you if they want to."

Lily pursed her lips and nodded. "And what they were saying about Severus and the Slytherins? I know they are not the most… pleasant of people, but with what happened yesterday and the way they were saying things… it was almost as if those students would soon start casting the unforgivables to deal with anyone."

Harry could only shake his head at how close that speculation was to what would shortly become the reality.

"You had that altercation with them last evening," McKinnon interjected. Harry turned to look at her. "We're not idiots. We know that was no schoolyard quarrel. What's going on, Peverell?"

Harry sighed. "It's not something you need to concern yourselves with right now. You'll know everything soon enough. If it's any consolation, nothing has happened as of now. However, no one knows the future."

"What's with that cryptic reply?" Alice frowned. Harry smiled at her.

"That's the only reply I should give you right now. You don't need to worry, not yet."

"Something's going to happen in the future then?"

Harry shrugged. He had already told them as much as he ought to right now.

"See, you all saw everything that happened last evening between me and the Slytherins. Recall everything that happened and you should get an idea about the problems. That's all I can say."

He flicked his wand and took down the privacy ward as Frank and the twins came down the stairs. The Longbottom heir smiled at him and walked over to his girlfriend. The two kissed before Frank turned toward him.

"Let's go then?"

Harry nodded.

"What's Black's deal though? Does he hate Snape so much that he was warning me like that?" He heard McKinnon mutter. He could only give her a knowing look when she looked at him. The girl pursed her lips and looked away.

-Break-

"Yeah, that's all they can do really," Gideon remarked, sneering at the glaring Slytherins.

The fifth and sixth-year Gryffindor males were currently sitting together at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. Remus and Peter were giving concerned looks to James and Sirius all the while, who were hellbent on not wanting to further discuss the matter.

The girls had taken their seats further down the table, and they seemed to be pointedly ignoring them. Harry sighed. Lily was going to be difficult how. He had no idea she and Snape had been such good friends.

"Ignore them," James muttered darkly as he exchanged a look with Harry. "They can glare all they want, but they better not do anything else."

"Who's Lily paired with?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Olivia Rosier," James replied with a meaningful look. "She's fairly alright."

"More than alright," Fabian snorted, nudging his twin. "This prat here is smitten with that one. His dear Olive~"

"Is that so?" Harry asked amusedly at the boy's mocking tone as the mood improved slightly. Sirius and James looked at the boy with grins.

"Oh piss off!" Gideon retorted. "At least I don't moan her name in my sleep, like a certain someone."

Fabian discreetly glanced at the Hufflepuff table and quickly busied himself with his breakfast. Harry followed his gaze and his eyes widened slightly when he saw who it was.

'Interesting,' he thought to himself.

"Come on," Frank called out as he stood up. "You guys can talk about girls later. We've got Potions first thing."

The sixth-years got up and walked toward the exit of the Great Hall. Harry noted Lily and Marlene glance at him when he passed, and he nodded toward them. Ignoring the Slytherin contingent that also got up around the same time, they made their way down to the dungeons for the Potions class.

Harry had initially thought that Snape liked the dungeons and that was the reason why he had decided to hold the Potions class there. However, the class had been held in the dungeons for years.

He could not help but look forward to learning the subject, or at least whatever he had left to learn, from someone other than Snape. Although he had studied it under Arcturus and even though he was not a very big fan of the subject, it was a massive improvement over his former professor. As far as he had heard, Slughorn was a jovial man, albeit a reaching one. There was no way he could be as bad or even worse than Snape.

Harry had to sigh in relief when he saw that they would be sharing the class with all the houses. There was no way he was in any mood to entertain the company of only those belligerent assholes from Slytherin first thing in the morning, and that too in a class as volatile as Potions. At least with all students present, it would be more tolerable. He could not recognize any of the two 'Claws, but he easily recognized Amelia Bones who was standing with another boy from her house.

Slughorn was already waiting for them, and Harry got his first good look at the man. He was an aged wizard with a bald head which he covered with a hat, a white large mustache, and a rotund belly that seemed to be quivering in excitement. The man beamed at them.

"Come in, come in," he beckoned them forward. "Gather around here while we wait for the rest to arrive."

They walked over and took their place near the desk alongside the two 'Puffs, and he noted the Prewett twins exchange greetings with the pair. He couldn't help but smirk when he saw Fabian greet Amelia Bones.

They were standing silently while Slughorn kept smiling, looking around at them. Harry couldn't help but notice the man's sharp gaze, and he recalled what Arcturus had told him about the man.

"He's someone who loves his comfort. However, he also loves to be in the company of the famous, the influential, the successful, and the powerful. It's nothing too drastic. The man loves to feel that he has some sort of influence over these people. Think of him as a person behind the throne. He never wants it for himself, instead preferring to sit back and relax. After all, there is more room to spread out."

"Are your parents doing well, Frank, m'boy?" He heard the man ask, and he turned to look at Frank.

"Yes, Professor," Frank smiled. "That reminds me, Father told me to inform you that he'd be there."

"Oho! Did he?" Slughorn chortled. "I'm glad."

The man looked on as the rest of the sixth-year students arrived, and Harry spotted only four Slytherins – Narcissa and Bellatrix who came together, and Rookwood who was joined by Malfoy.

He expertly ignored the malicious look on Malfoy's face and smiled at Narcissa, frowning when she gave a strained smile in return. His frown deepened when he saw the look on Bellatrix's face. Yet again, it was the same look she had given him during Defense the previous day, and he failed to decipher what it meant even now.

He had already concluded that it was nothing malicious on her part. Still, it made him feel apprehensive, almost as if he should exercise caution. If there was anything he had come to trust so far in his life, it was his intuition, and right now, it was telling him to watch himself around this young woman. Even though there was no malice, there was no telling what she might be thinking.

Given what he knew of Bellatrix from his previous timeline, this warning seemed even more appropriate, and Harry resolved to not be hasty in formulating his opinion of her.

She had not shown any indication of being a supremacist so far, and nor had she given him any reason to believe that she would be joining the Death Eaters. However, with the sudden emergence of this feeling inside him, he had to be watchful. Bellatrix had the potential to be a huge asset, but she could also become as great a liability.

Only she could decide which one she would be, and he would remain alert for that. One thing was for sure though, and it applied to all of them. Even a hint and he would act, no questions asked.

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Chapter Text

Once all the students arrived, Slughorn waved his wand and shut the door to his classroom. Beaming at the students, he beckoned them forward near the large desk.

Harry looked and saw several cauldrons bubbling on fire.

"Gather around, everyone," Slughorn motioned with his hand. "First of all, I welcome you all to Advanced Potions. It's a shame that there are only so few of us even though I reduced the demands to Exceeds Expectations. Alas, there is nothing to be done about that.

"Now, before we begin, let us have a small test, shall we?" The man beamed. "As you can see, we have four cauldrons over here. I'd like you to try and identify the potions, for these are some of the ones you shall be brewing during the year which will contribute to your grades."

Harry looked into the cauldrons that were stacked side-by-side and got his first glimpse of the potions. The color, the texture, and the scent clued him into what these were. Arcturus' tutelage had truly improved him in this subject.

"Let us begin then, shall we?" Slughorn smiled and pointed toward one of the cauldrons. "Mr. Lovegood, care to identify this one?"

Harry's eyes immediately shot toward the boy, and now that he looked closely, he truly had the light-blonde hair that Luna shared.

"Polyjuice Potion, professor."

"Very good. The best way to identify it is its muddy texture, and believe me, it tastes as bad. Take five points for Ravenclaw, Mr. Lovegood," the man praised with a grin. "And this one? Mr. Malfoy, if you please."

Harry looked at the potion that looked as clear as water, Malfoy was quick to pick up on that fact.

"Veritaserum."

"Indeed. The most powerful truth potion in the world. Three drops and you will be spilling your deepest, darkest secrets, unless you have taken prior measures," the man answered with a small smile. "It is highly regulated by the ministry and even brewing it takes longer than a year. Don't worry, you won't be brewing this potion at Hogwarts. It requires a mastery in the subject to even come close."

Harry listened to that explanation with interest, particularly the way Slughorn had been smiling somberly when informing them about prior measures. It did indeed look like the man had done something so that the truth of the Horcruxes could not be extracted forcefully or without his will.

"What about this one? Mr. Peverell, if you will?"

Harry stared into the cauldron and saw the clear simmering surface of the potion. The answer came to him in an instant.

"It's the Draught of Living Death, isn't it?"

"Attaboy," Slughorn beamed. "Looks like you are a nifty hand in Potions yourself. Although I shouldn't be surprised. Highest scores in Potions in the last thirty-five years."

Harry smiled at the man who had a forlorn look on his face as he finished, wondering what it was about. He chuckled at the mock-awed looks on his friends' faces. Slughorn shook himself off his reminiscing and smiled.

"This is the potion you all shall be brewing today, and the one who brews the perfect batch shall be granted a reward from yours truly. However, before we get to that, we have one more potion left. Let's see… ah, Narcissa dear, if you will?"

Harry glanced at Narcissa who leaned forward to take a closer look at the potion before looking up.

"Amortentia."

"Indeed," Slughorn grinned. "The most powerful love potion, and a dangerous substance indeed. Tricky to brew as well. One of its unique characteristics is that it smells different to each person. Personally, I smell mint, cinnamon, and oddly, tangy orange. Many people consider this to be private but I disagree. Mind telling us what you small, dear?"

Narcissa frowned but obliged, leaning over and taking a small whiff of the potion.

"It's a peculiar scent, some pie or tart perhaps? There's also broom polish, and… yeah, that's it," she finished with a hint of red dusting her cheeks, pointedly avoiding looking anywhere but at the table. Meanwhile, Harry stared at her in amusement.

"What you all must always remember is that Amortentia smells like something which you are either personally attracted to, or which shares some connection with a person you gravitate toward. However, it does not create love between two people. Something like that cannot be manufactured. No, it only creates a powerful degree of infatuation. It is probably the most dangerous potion in this room… oh yes. Take five points for Slytherin as well."

Narcissa gave the man a small smile and inadvertently caught the teasing smirk on Harry's face. Try as she might, she couldn't prevent the flushing of her cheeks.

'That idiot,' she thought furiously.

"Now that we are done, I'd like you all to take your place and begin brewing the best batch of the Draught of Living Death you can. Although I do not expect you to succeed, if you manage to brew a perfect potion, you shall be awarded with this," Slughorn smiled and fished out a clear vial. "One of the toughest potions to make – the Felix Felicis, also known as the Liquid Luck. One little dose and you will find all your endeavors succeed… at least until the effects wear off."

Most of the students leaned forward eagerly, desperate to take a good look at the vial. Slughorn smiled and pocketed it.

"I can see you all are very eager to get your hands on it. However, there is a little catch. You see, a person can use this little potion here only once every thirty years," Slughorn informed with a chuckle. "Indeed, it takes a toll on your body. If taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence, and that's only the mental part. This potion is a double-edged sword, as the muggles like to say. The impact on the human liver is magically irreversible, and no matter how healthy you might consider yourself to be, more than five milliliters in thirty years and there is a massive risk of a liver failure. Witches and wizards have tried to bypass this restriction over the years, but none has succeeded."

"Have you tried it, professor?" Gideon asked in interest.

"Twice I have," Slughorn replied with a nod. "Once when I was twenty-four, and the next at fifty-seven. Two teaspoons with breakfast. Two perfect days."

The man stared dreamily into the distance, and Harry wondered just what he was reminiscing.

'Probably the time when he used the potion to get laid,' he thought mirthfully.

"And that," Slughorn said, coming back to earth, "is that I am offering as the prize. One perfect batch of the Draught of Living Death and this vial of Felix Felicis will be yours. Absolute luck for twelve hours, from dawn to dusk. You will be lucky in anything you attempt."

There was a resounding silence in the classroom which was filled only by the bubbling cauldrons.

"I must warn you that this potion here is banned in organized competitions… sporting events, for instance… or elections, examinations, and so on. So use it only on an ordinary day. However, even that ordinary day becomes extraordinary, so there is that. Only one person has ever received this award in all my years of teaching, so no pressure," Slughorn chuckled. "Off you go!"

There was a sudden rustling as the students scrambled to get to their respective cauldrons. The concentration of everyone in the room was almost tangible, and Harry saw students furiously riffling through their copies of Advanced Potion-Making. It was evident that everyone wanted that little vial to be theirs.

However, Harry had no intention of letting that happen. He had found a fundamental tool that might help him in his mission that concerned Slughorn, and he would be damned if he didn't do everything in his power to obtain it. He looked at his friends before his eyes fell on a diligently-working Narcissa, and he smirked.

'Sorry, everyone. This one's mine.'

Unlike the others, Harry didn't bother with following the instructions written in the textbook. He had already brewed the potion under Arcturus' tutelage, and he knew every shortcut he needed. Where the students were busy trying to stab the Sopophorous Bean or cut it to extract the juice, which resulted in the bean bouncing off the table every time, Harry pressed it with the flat of his blade and poured the droplets of juice inside his cauldron.

"Your father is doing good, I presume, Mr. Malfoy?" Harry heard Slughorn ask as he passed by the Slytherin table. He saw Lucius smirk and nod.

"He was wondering why you hadn't paid a visit for so long, Professor."

"Work has kept me busy, I must say," Slughorn replied and walked off without another word. Harry ignored them and focused on his work.

Seven counterclockwise stirs were followed by one clockwise stir, and Harry smirked when the potion started to turn a clear shade until it looked like water. He looked around at everyone's progress, and as far as he could see, no one's potion had turned as pale as his.

"And time's… up!" Slughorn called out. "Stop stirring, everyone!"

Everyone put their equipment on the table and stepped back once prompted. Slughorn started to move among the tables, peering into the cauldrons. However, he never made any comment, but occasionally gave a few potions a stir or a sniff.

It was when he reached the table where Narcissa and Bellatrix were sitting that Slughorn's facial expression changed. Although he gave the same rueful smile to Bellatrix's potion that he had been giving to every student, he beamed at Narcissa.

"So very close, dear! I can only find one fault."

Narcissa nodded with a sigh. Her potion was as clear as she could make it. However, it seemed it was not enough to be perfect.

"Fret not, dear. Your potion will work perfectly as well. But as it is with a delicious meal, it's not only the taste that counts. How the dish looks matters a lot to a professional as well. The same applies to potions. Your Draught, although perfect at work, needs just a little tinkering when it comes to how it should look like. I am sure it would have been perfect if you were given five more minutes. Alas, rules are rules. Still, take a very well earned twenty points for your effort."

Harry breathed a small sigh of relief as Slughorn smiled at her and came over to the final table, which he was sharing with Frank. As expected, the man peered into Frank's cauldron and gave a little nod. Then, he looked into Harry's cauldron and a look of incredulous delight spread over his face.

"Astounding!" Slughorn cried out. "We have a clear winner! Excellent work, my dear boy! What a dab hand at potions you are! Here, as promised – one vial of Felix Felicis. Use it well!"

Harry took the vial with a smile and quickly slipped it into his inner pocket before looking at the class. While most students were looking understandably upset, disappointed, or impressed in equal measure, it was the look of utter loathing on Malfoy's face that he relished in. He even winked at the blonde to rub it in.

"You're truly a genius, aren't you?" Frank commented once they were leaving the classroom. Harry glanced at Malfoy who was coming with Rockwood toward them and smirked.

"Got lucky, I suppose."

The sour look on the ponce's face was worth it.

-Break-

Harry was in the middle of lunch when a note appeared on the table in front of him. Curious, he opened it and immediately recognized the thin, cursive writing on the piece of parchment.

Mr. Peverell,

I would like to discuss a certain altercation that took place the previous evening. I hope you are enjoying your time at Hogwarts but I believe there is something we should talk about. Please come along to my office after classes end today.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

P.S. I enjoy Sherbet Lemon.

Harry rolled his eyes and vanished the missive with a flick of his wand. It seemed he had a meeting to attend with a certain someone.

Right after classes ended, Harry climbed upstairs to the seventh floor and walked through the corridors until he reached the spot where a single gargoyle stood against the wall.

"Sherbet Lemon," he called out, and the gargoyle leaped aside. The wall behind it slid apart and a moving spiral staircase was revealed. Harry stepped on it and was smoothly carried upward until he reached the door that led to the Headmaster's office. He grabbed the brass knocker and rapped it twice against the hardwood door.

"Come in," Dumbledore's voice came.

Harry walked through the door and shut it behind him. "Good evening, headmaster."

"And a good evening to you as well, Mr. Peverell. Do take a seat," Dumbledore gestured with a welcoming look on his face. "I hope you've had a good time settling into Hogwarts life?"

"It's been an eventful first few days, that's for sure."

"I imagine it has," Dumbledore nodded. "It's come to my attention that you had an altercation with a group of students from another house last evening. Could you elaborate on that?"

Harry stared evenly at the old wizard and said, "Malfoy and his group of twelve others confronted me and my friends near the giant staircase, and when I asked him how I could help him and his friends, one of his friends commented how the House of Peverell was now infested and will end with a blood traitor. That escalated the matter and insults followed."

Dumbledore nodded and motioned for him to continue.

"Malfoy expressed how disappointed he was that I chose to sully myself with the company of blood traitors instead of upstanding pureblood scions like him and his group, commenting what a true shame I was on purebloods. I politely corrected him by saying that I was a proud half-blood. It seems Malfoy took excuse to that and chose to call someone I care about the M-word," Harry continued, seething.

Dumbledore frowned deeply. He could certainly understand the young wizard's sentiment in a situation like that.

"I don't care who it is, but I take offense to that, and another round of insults ensued. Malfoy must not have liked what I said to him, because he went for his wand. Unlucky for him since I was faster and had my wand under his chin before he could move. All the Slytherins pointed their wands at us instantly, and my friends followed suit," Harry shrugged.

"I see," Dumbledore replied with a sigh.

"I didn't want any violence," Harry continued. "So I told my friends to back off and warned Malfoy and his group to stay away from us. We turned around to walk away when the same guy from before tried to curse me in the back. Again, I was faster and I banished him against the wall. Frank Longbottom grabbed me from behind and I warned them once again before we walked away."

Dumbledore nodded, frowning. Although the explicit details were missing, the young man in front of him had described everything as it had happened.

"While it is good that no spellfire took place, it doesn't fill me with any calmness to see students having such altercations," Dumbledore remarked, frowning when Harry scoffed.

"This is only the beginning, headmaster," Harry said seriously. "Soon, Riddle will start making his moves, and you can count on those students to join his cause as soon as they can. They, and their families by extension, are firm believers in blood superiority, and Riddle knows it. It won't be too hard for him to play on that weakness of British wizarding society to amass power for himself. And when it happens, lines will be drawn in the school as well, even though you might not want something like that to happen."

Dumbledore stared at the young wizard with a frown. "Tom is a half-blood himself. What makes you think those families will join his crusade?"

Harry chuckled mirthlessly. "Riddle is a parselmouth with a claim to the House of Slytherin. What makes you think those purebloods will care about his blood status? Not to mention the fact that he is an insanely powerful individual who will easily bend them to his will, by force if necessary. Furthermore, when they have such a powerful individual working to further their vile agenda, his blood status would be the last thing that would matter to them."

Dumbledore sighed. That was indeed a big possibility, and dare he say, the most plausible scenario depending on the rumors he had been hearing lately.

"Be as it may, I would like you to exercise caution. I cannot allow any violence to take place on school grounds," he declared sternly. Harry gave the man an unimpressed stare.

"You don't need to warn me, headmaster. I will never do something without reason or provocation. The rest is up to them. I also won't lie to you. If they do something, I shall deal with them as I see fit. I am not some pacifist who'd sit idle, only watching while someone attacks me or mine."

"You'd retaliate with as much force if someone takes action against you. This mindset of revenge is unbecoming for you, Mr. Peverell," Dumbledore remarked in disappointment. "I would hope you conduct yourself better than that. Forgiveness, you'll find, is a haven that brings the most contentment,"

Harry shot to his feet and slammed his hands on the desk, glaring at the surprised wizard.

"Don't act as if you know anything about me or how I should act, headmaster," Harry hissed. "If someone wants to take something from me, I would do everything in my power to prevent it and ensure that person never dares to even think of doing something like that ever again. I don't care what that makes me. You might have your moral beliefs, but I would very much appreciate it if you didn't shove them on others, especially me. I am not your grandson or anything, and you would do well to remember that. You are the headmaster of the school I attend. Please try not to cross that line in the future."

Before Dumbledore could even reply, Harry turned around and walked out of the office, leaving a set of angry portraits reprimanding him for the way he had talked to the headmaster of the school and a surprised old wizard who stared at the vacant seat in sadness.

"While it is understandable to have such strong emotions after seeing your parents die at the hands of a dark wizard, it is not healthy to let such negativity shape one's beliefs. I hope for your sake that you come to see reason before you do something you'll sorely regret, Harry Peverell," Dumbledore remarked in an empty office with a sigh.

-Break-

Harry took a little while to arrive on the fifth floor where a number of classrooms had been left abandoned. He had decided with Narcissa to hold their off-class study sessions here.

Taking a deep breath, Harry rounded the corner and saw she was already there outside one of the classrooms, seemingly waiting for him. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the silence of the corridor, and the blonde looked at him.

Harry returned her smile as he reached her.

"Miss Black, you look rather lovely this evening if I may say so," he greeted, smirking cheekily. Narcissa's response was to turn around and pull the door. They entered and Harry looked around. This would do for now.

"Mind if ask a few questions before we get started?" Narcissa asked, and Harry looked at her curiously.

"Sure," he nodded and leaned against the wall, pocketed his hands, and looked at her expectantly.

"Could you have cast the Cruciatus when Hopkins asked you to?"

Harry frowned as he stared at her.

"Why are you asking?"

"Just curious about something. You had no problems with the Blood Boiling Curse which tells me you can easily pull off lethal spells of that variety. However, the Unforgivables are, as you explained, different."

Harry sighed. "I don't know if I can," he replied. "Perhaps if I come face to face with someone I loathe with my entire being, I might. But currently, I don't think it's possible."

"And is there someone?" Narcissa asked further. "Someone you hate that much?"

The deformed face of Voldemort and his Death Eaters who had killed his friends immediately came to the forefront of his mind and Harry pursed his lips.

"There are a few, yes. What's with these questions?"

Narcissa ignored him and asked again, "What about those idiots from last evening? Could you cast it on any of them?"

"I don't think so," Harry replied with a small frown. He did hate them and perhaps he wouldn't hesitate in killing them should the need arise, but he didn't think he would cast the Cruciatus on any of that lot, at least not right now.

Narcissa pursed her lips and nodded. "Let's start with the practice for now. Where should we begin?"

Harry gave her a searching look which she ignored and took her place at the opposite end of the room.

"A little duel, perhaps? Nothing too drastic, simply casting a few spells and shielding to gauge our basics?" She prompted with a raised eyebrow.

Harry sighed and assumed his place opposite her. His wand shot forward and he adopted a relaxed stance, staring at her.

"I'll go first," she announced, and Harry quickly raised a shield. Her silent stunner collided against it.

"Not bad," he remarked with a nod. Narcissa flicked her wand and a massive blast collided with his shield, which still held firm.

"And that's the Reductor out. What's next?" He called out, looking on expectantly.

In response, Narcissa fired a silent blasting hex which collided with his shield and the blast rang around the classroom once again.

"Much better. Put some more power into your spells, Miss Black," Harry called out. Narcissa nodded and another blasting hex, more powerful this time, collided with his shield. However, it still held firm.

Narcissa stopped casting for a moment and gestured for him to take the shield down.

"Your spells are very powerful even though you cast silently. How long have you been doing that for, anyway?"

"A year," she replied. "Only up to OWL level though."

"Still very impressive," he commented honestly.

"Not enough if I couldn't even put a dent on that shield of yours. That wasn't a Protego, right?"

"Aegis," Harry nodded. "I stopped using Protego a long time ago. My turn to fire spells now. Wanna try the Aegis? Don't worry if you can't cast it silently for now."

"I'll try out my silently cast Protego first," she replied and Harry watched as a translucent shield materialized in front of her.

"Looks sturdy enough. Let's test it out," he nodded and whipped his wand. A resounding blast echoed around the classroom as Narcissa grunted under the impact. However, the shield held sturdy, albeit with massive cracks all over it. A stunner took care of it, shattering the shield into hundreds of sparkling fragments.

"That's all it took!?" She asked in surprise. Harry chuckled.

"I cast an overpowered Reducto at that shield. The fact that it held speaks a lot about its power. I'm sure the Aegis that you cast would be very strong," Harry replied honestly.

As he had predicted, her Aegis shield was indeed very strong, sustaining five overpowered Reductors and a powerful blasting hex in the end to crumble. Even though it was not cast silently, her ability was nothing to scoff at either. Harry didn't know Narcissa in the previous timeline, so he didn't know what to expect. However, he had certainly not expected her to be so capable at spellcasting.

"Alright, I'll teach you one little thing that would help you out a lot in duels and such," Harry started as they finally finished testing their basics. Narcissa nodded, looking interested. "Cast a stunner at me."

Narcissa quickly fired a silent stunner. However, her eyes widened when he batted the spell aside where it collided with the floor and fizzed away.

"You can do it as well?" She asked in surprise. Harry chuckled.

"It's not that tough," he replied. "You simply have to anticipate the contact and cast a concentrated shield charm close to your wand. Since the area is so small, even powerful spells which are considered dark can be batted aside. The trick is to successfully cast a shield over such a small area. You start by casting a standard shield and slowly shrinking it in size so that it becomes as small as you want."

"Sounds pretty volatile. Shouldn't the shield explode due to so much magic being concentrated in such a small area?" Narcissa asked with a frown.

Harry nodded, impressed. "You seem to have a good knowledge over magical theory."

"I read," she replied with a shrug.

"Anyway," Harry chuckled, "it is indeed correct that there is a risk of the shield exploding. That is why this skill should never be rushed. Start by a normal Protego and slowly start shrinking it. The moment you feel pressure on your magic, let go and start again. Slowly, start to shrink it even more and repeat until you've reached the level you want. Keep repeating it until you can do it at a moment's notice. If you really try, you can get comfortable with this skill in even two weeks. That would require constant practice though. I had more to do, so it took me a week more to cast easily."

Narcissa nodded. "I'll start on it today. Anything else?"

Harry looked thoughtful. "Know any spell chains?"

"The basic one – Expelliarmus, Petrificus Totalus, Stupefy."

"Let's see it," he nodded and raised a shield. Narcissa's spells collided against it one after the other in quick succession and Harry nodded as he took the shield down.

"Very nice. All three spells within a second. Although you can still reduce the time gap, but that will come with time. You should keep practicing it, and possibly look into a few more."

"Quite a taskmaster, aren't you?" Narcissa teased with a smirk, and Harry chuckled.

"Your turn then. What've you got for me?" He asked.

"You seriously expect someone like me to teach something to someone like you?" She asked incredulously. Harry snorted.

"I don't know everything, Miss Black," he replied with an easy smile.

"Call me Narcissa," she replied promptly. "I forgot to tell you before."

Harry smirked. "You should call me Harry then. And yeah, as I said, I don't know everything. I bet there's something you can teach me."

"There is indeed, but I don't think I can teach you the Black Family Magic," Narcissa replied with a chuckle. "Only family members can know how to cast those spells, and seeing how you're not…"

She shrugged unapologetically, smirking.

Harry had a sudden urge to tell her how they could easily arrange something to meet those terms but he kept his mouth shut and shelved those super appealing thoughts away for the moment.

"Well then, I guess you can teach me something other than that, seeing even I cannot teach you the Peverell Family Magic due to those very reasons," he replied with a smirk, looking pointedly at her. Narcissa rolled her eyes.

"Maybe. I can't think of anything right now though," she shrugged as she walked over and joined him near the front desk. "Anyway, it's time for dinner already. Same time tomorrow evening?" She asked.

"We got the pitch clearance tomorrow so it's Quidditch tryouts. I don't think I'd be able to make it. The day after then?"

Narcissa nodded.

"By your leave then," he smirked and turned around to walk out of the classroom.

Narcissa watched as he walked out and shut the door behind him and sighed to herself.

"Damn you, Bella…" she muttered.

-Break-

Dinner was a normal affair, if one didn't count how James entirely avoided even looking at a certain redhead, who gave the boy several glances throughout. It hurt Harry to see his parents' younger selves behaving like this with each other, and he had to constantly remind himself that these were not his parents.

He had managed to form a close relationship with the Potters and Sirius, but there was nothing of the sort with Lily. The thought saddened him immensely and he hoped he could rectify the situation with her soon.

However, with the situation as it was right now, it didn't seem too likely. It wasn't as if they were in the same class or social circle either. He could not go out of his way to spend time with her. That would send the wrong message to everyone, and he didn't want to create any headaches for her.

That left him with no choice but to let things happen naturally. It wasn't as if he was on unfriendly terms with her. On the contrary, he believed their relationship was perfectly cordial. Harry was content with that for now.

Currently, he was on his way to rectifying an error. He should have taken care of this when he first arrived at Hogwarts, but better late than never. Under his trusty invisibility cloak, Harry walked through the corridors in the aftermath of dinner toward the second floor.

Curfew was due to start soon and although he didn't care about something as trivial as that, the sooner he took care of the Basilisk, the better it was for everyone. Even though the creature had not been let loose, he could not afford to have such a risk slumbering right under his nose.

Myrtle's Bathroom was eerily similar to how it looked in the previous timeline, and Harry looked around when he entered. There was no one present, Myrtle included.

Walking over to the sink, Harry whispered in Parseltongue. The sink parted in the middle, revealing the secret passageway. He looked down and nodded to himself. In no time, he was rocketing down the passageway, leaving a trail of light behind him under the cloak. However, on the outside, there was nothing to see.

He had first seen the Death Eaters use this trick – flying without aid. However, their trail was dark. It was when the Order arrived that Harry saw their flashing trail. Even though it could not be sustained for a longer period, it was a useful skill, particularly in fights.

Harry flew through the chamber tunnels until he reached the large metallic door which led into the main chamber and landed on his feet. Whispering in Parseltongue once again, he watched as the snakelike fingers cocked back and the snake on the edge slithered around. The door opened with a metallic bang and he pulled it entirely.

Under his cloak, Harry walked inside the chamber and assumed his place to the right of that large pool of water in front of Slytherin's statue. He called out in Parseltongue and readied himself against the wall which was nothing but an outstretched beard of the statue.

The entrance slid open and he could hear the Basilisk's mad ramblings as its head slowly slithered out. The moment half of its body was out of the entrance, Harry cast a silent Ennervate on the rooster he was holding firmly in his left hand. The moment it was revived, the rooster let out a loud crow.

Immediately, the Basilisk, still halfway inside the tunnel, started to thrash in pain as the rooster kept crowing and trying to free itself from his grasp. However, Harry held it firmly and watched in detachment as the Basilisk continued to thrash about wildly, dropping into the pool of water face-first until it lay there, twitching before going still.

Slowly, Harry walked over to the front where the remaining half of the Basilisk's body slithered out of the statue and the creature fell into the water, entirely submerged underneath. He whipped his wand out and cast a powerful firestorm directly into the pool, pouring more and more power into it until the water started bubbling. In no time, it started to evaporate until the pool had entirely dried out.

It was not too deep – perhaps as much as a standard muggle swimming pool and as he looked in, he saw the dead carcass of the Basilisk coiled within.

The rooster was still crowing furiously and Harry sighed before stunning it once again.

"Thanks for keeping these, Hagrid," he muttered to himself. His task was done for now. He could acquire some Basilisk venom later. The rooster deserved a good night's sleep in its pen too.

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Chapter Text

Since the altercation with the Slytherins, the two factions, as they were now called, had kept their distance. The future Death Eaters did nothing more than glare at them from across the hall or classroom. There had been no repeat of their previous exchange, and Harry was at least thankful for the little respite. It had become tough for him to control himself the last time and he did not want another encounter so soon.

The meeting with Dumbledore also made him seethe whenever he thought about it. The old wizard truly had the audacity to try and have any sort of his pacifist influence over him. He thought he might have acted a bit rashly, and probably a little out of line as well, but he did not care. In that moment, the negative feelings he had harbored for the old wizard owing to the life he had led in the previous timeline had come to the forefront of his mind, and he lashed out.

No matter what he had said to the old wizard in their final meeting before he made the time jump, he had neither forgotten anything, nor had he forgiven the man. Playing the morally superior character truly didn't suit Dumbledore, and Harry would have never bothered speaking to the man. However, he also knew that defeating Voldemort required Dumbledore's help. His magical prowess aside, Dumbledore also had immense political power which he wielded from behind the scenes, not very much unlike Slughorn. There was more room behind the throne indeed.

However, Harry didn't care. Dumbledore was not his friend, nor was he his mentor or anything else. He was simply an ally against his biggest foe, and even that was looking tentative now. For all his talk of working against Voldemort, Dumbledore didn't seem like a good enough ally if he was going to be a pacifist like this. Perhaps it was because nothing had happened yet, but it didn't seem Dumbledore was taking this as seriously as he should.

Harry's priority was to deal with Voldemort by any means. That included placing a modicum of trust in the old wizard. However, if the headmaster didn't prove to be useful, then he would have to proceed on his own. He had allies in the Wizengamot already, and he believed that even though Dumbledore could not stop Voldemort from running amok with his propaganda in the school, he would at least act against his attacks outside it. He could only wish his faith was not misplaced.

He had not been lying when he said he would not do anything to those wizards unless they gave him a reason to, and he intended to honor that promise. He would not act out against those assholes, but he would not hesitate in taking action if they stepped out of line either.

"Ready, mate?" James asked, clapping him on the back with a grin. Sirius stood right beside him with his patented smirk plastered on his face.

"Don't make a fool of us and we'd be good, ya hear?" He teased. "Our reputation will take a huge hit if you don't outclass those idiots, that one in particular."

Harry looked over at the boy Sirius had pointed out and recognized him as the one who had protested his direct inclusion in the Quidditch team.

"Don't worry, Padfoot. No way my cousin here screws up. Balls of steel, this one," James remarked with absolute confidence and turned around to look at everyone gathered on the pitch.

"Alright, you dimwits!" The boy shouted. "Gather around for the tryouts or fuck off for all I care. I won't bother calling you twice."

The prospective students who were trying out quickly assembled as James looked on critically.

"A bit too many for a tryout, don't you think, Padfoot?" James asked, looking at the twenty-one gathered witches and wizards who were trying out for the only available spot. "Listen up, y'all. We don't need so many for only one position. The snitch would pass out in a jiffy. Here's what we're gonna do. You all will race around the pitch. One full lap, and the first five qualify for the deciding round. Sounds good?"

There were mutterings around the gathering which ceased as Harry took his place at the starting point. The rest of the students followed suit immediately.

Off to the side, the rest of the Quidditch team was standing, looking on.

"On an idiot's cry then," James called out with a grin, and before he could do or even say anything, James' stinging hex collided with Sirius' backside and he let out a loud yelp.

Harry snorted out loud and shot forward quickly, taking a significant lead before the rest could even get over their initial surprise. However, once they caught their bearings, they too sped ahead.

"You asshole!" Sirius cried out, rubbing his sore backside as the rest of the assembled crowd of team members and onlookers snickered.

"What? Was funny, wasn't it?" James responded with an unapologetic grin before pointing toward the pitch. "Look over. Our guy's in the lead."

And quite a significant lead it was. Harry had flattened himself over the broom, reducing the surface area to the minimum possible and eliminating as much friction as he could. As such, even the Cleansweep he was riding on didn't slow him down much. It was understandably nothing compared to his Firebolt or even his Nimbus, but this was the best he could get right now.

It didn't take too long for him to finish the lap, and he was greeted with grinning faces of his teammates which comprised of James, Sirius, Frank, Fabian, Gideon, and oddly, Katherine, who was one of the chasers. It seemed it was in Katie's blood to be a Quidditch player. Katherine was the only girl on the team, but that didn't deter her even slightly and she could give even James a run for his money.

"Easy enough," he chuckled as he dismounted. Frank clapped him on the back.

They didn't have to wait long for the race to conclude, and the other four stepped to the side when prompted. Harry saw that the boy who had complained earlier was still in contention. It seemed he was indeed one of the better ones.

"Alright, y'all," James smiled. "Thanks for trying out and be sure to work hard and try again next year. You can go to the stands now."

The eliminated students sighed and walked off the pitch. James turned to look at the five remaining ones.

"Okay then. This should be fairly simple. Here is the practice snitch," he said, holding up the little golden ball between his fingers. "All of you will go against each other, and the one who catches the snitch will be the winner."

"Fair enough," Harry nodded and mounted his broom, hovering over them. The remaining students looked up at him and followed suit, quickly joining him over the pitch.

"On the count of five!" James called out as he released the snitch, which disappeared in an instant.

"One! Two! Three! Four!… Five!"

Right at the shout, all of them shot in different directions, looking around for the snitch. However, Harry ascended higher into the air and once he had reached the desired altitude, he started to scan the pitch for any hint of the elusive golden ball.

Meanwhile, the others immediately started to fly from one segment of the pitch to another, never staying stationary and furiously looking around for the snitch.

A glint of gold near the opposite hoops made his eyes widen, and Harry rocketed forward, urging the broom to go as fast as it could. The others were too far away, apart from that one guy who had complained about his direct inclusion. His eyes widened when he saw him coming toward him at a fast pace, and he started to quickly look around, trying to spot the snitch.

Harry was almost near the hoops when he suddenly started to slow down and sighed. It was not the snitch but a little golden engraving of the snitch on the large hoop he had spotted.

The other boy stared at him keenly and Harry ignored him. Turning around, he ascended once again. However, there was one noticeable difference this time. The boy had chosen to tail him, and remained only a few feet behind him.

"You won't win, Peverell," his shout cut through the breeze at such high altitude. Harry ignored him.

The boy, seeing he was being ignored, gritted his teeth.

"You think you could just barge in and steal a spot on the Quidditch team? No matter how friendly you might be with Potter and his little group of prats, you'll never find favoritism in Gryffindor. If you want something, you'll have to earn it."

Even though he was ignoring the boy, his constant prattling was slowly getting on his nerves, interfering with his scanning.

He looked all around the pitch and suddenly shot forward rapidly. The boy was surprised for only a second before he gave chase. He was right behind the tail of his broom. Harry slowed down marginally so that the gap between them reduced, and now they were almost side to side.

Harry glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw the boy looking ahead frantically, trying to spot the snitch. However, there was nothing he could see.

"You're trying to make me crash!" The boy cried out suddenly and pulled back with all his might, grunting as he came to a sudden stop before he gave one final glare at the back of the still descending wizard. However, he suddenly frowned when Harry didn't stop.

His eyes widened when Harry reached the ground, gave a harsh tug on his broom to stop it inches above the ground and quickly picked the snitch out from under the grass where it had been hiding like a little pipsqueak.

A loud bang echoed around as James signaled the end of the tryouts and the students made their way back to where the team was gathered.

"As you all can see, Harry caught the snitch. I want no complaints, especially from you, Smith," the boy remarked, looking pointedly at the one who had protested against Harry's inclusion the most. The boy sulked but didn't say anything. Nodding toward the boy, James looked at Harry and grinned.

"Welcome to the team, officially."

-Break-

"That was so unnecessary," James remarked when they returned to their common room and took their place on the couch. It was only the Marauders now, with Frank and the Prewett twins having gone somewhere else.

"At least no one would accuse you of favoritism now, so there's that," Peter remarked. James nodded with a sigh.

"You're showing it pretty early, Moony," Sirius commented with a frown. Remus smiled tiredly.

"It happens sometimes."

The full moon was only a few days away, and Harry knew that the remaining marauders always joined Remus on his transformations. He looked at Sirius when the boy waved his hand in front of him.

"What about your form, mate? You said you were working on one?"

Harry nodded. He had indeed been working on his animagus transformation under Arcturus' instructions and had managed successful transformations in the previous timeline. However, since traveling back in time, he had initially been having some issues with it. It had taken him working on the skill for a few days to get the hang of it once again. He didn't know what caused the issues, but he had resolved them and it was all in the past now.

"Yeah, I'll join you four. I won't be with you all on the ground though," he replied with a small smirk.

"Always knew you were a disgusting fish," Sirius mocked and had to quickly duck under the stinging hex that missed his face by inches. Wide-eyed, he stared at Harry who gazed back evenly. "What's up with the stingers today!?"

"You ask for it every time, Padfoot," Peter remarked with a laugh, which they all joined in.

"Yeah yeah, fine. What's your form though? Not a fish. A bird then?"

Harry nodded.

"After seeing you fly, it makes perfect sense," James chuckled.

"What about your spell practices?" Harry changed the topic, looking at them. "You told me you'd be practicing with Remus and Peter here."

James nodded firmly with a serious look on his face. "We will start tomorrow evening onward."

"I still don't understand why though," Remus remarked with a frown. "Don't get me wrong. I know that it would help us with the practical portion of our OWLs, but what you two have proposed seems a bit over the top."

Peter nodded from beside him. James sighed.

"I don't trust those fucking pricks from Slytherin not to try and curse us in the back. You remember what happened that night, don't you?" Sirius asked. "That is why we should become capable of defending ourselves if it is needed."

"And I told you Lily, you're wrong!" An irate voice suddenly came from near the entrance to the common room, and they turned to look at Marlene who strode in with Lily and Alice trailing behind her. The marauders were the only ones present in the common room at the moment, and it seemed the girls had not noticed them considering the couches they were sitting on were situated at the far end of the common room.

"You must have misunderstood, Mar," Lily tried. "He would never say something like that."

"Well, he did. I honestly don't get why you take his side so much, when the truth is there for all to see. Snape is a friend of those idiots who fought Peverell. Of course he would share their opinions and views," Marlene replied with a scoff.

"What did Snivellus do?" Sirius asked, and the girls whirled around in surprise. Their eyes widened when they saw them.

"That's none of your business, Black," Marlene replied with a sigh and turned toward the staircase.

"I warned you, didn't I?" Sirius continued. "I told you to mind yourself around him and his cronies. What did he do, McKinnon?"

"She said it's none of your business, Black. Why can't you understand?"

"I'm not talking to you, Evans," Sirius replied with a glare, surprising Lily who took a step back. He turned back to look at Marlene whose eyes widened. "What did he do?"

Marlene sighed. "He called me a stupid blood traitor and said I keep the company of mudbloods and filth. Happy now?"

"He what!?" James asked in a dangerous whisper as he came forward.

"There's no way Severus would ever say that, and never about me. He is not like those idiots in Slytherin," Lily interjected firmly.

"I can't be bothered to argue with you on this, Lily," Marlene sighed. "Whether you believe it or not is up to you. But he did say it, word for word. He might not call you that word to your face, but you better believe that's what he thinks. Face it, Lily. The boy you considered your friend and Severus Snape are two different people."

With her bit said, Marlene walked up the stairs without a backward glance. Sirius stared up the staircase with gritted teeth.

"I told you, Evans," James said with steel in his voice and Lily turned to glare at him. "I told you, time and time again, that Snivellus is like those bigoted assholes in Slytherin. You refused to believe it every single time. Now what? Going to say your dear friend is lying too?"

"You just can't miss an opportunity, can you, Potter?" She hissed. "Even a little chance and you jump at it to badmouth Severus. You're honestly pathetic."

James stared at her with a disdainful look on his face.

"It's really sad that you can't see what's staring you in the face," he sneered. "Everyone knows what kind of people those pricks are, your dear friend Severus included, except you. How long will you continue living in denial, Evans?"

"You don't need to bother yourself with that, Potter," Lily glared. "I will be talking with Severus. There's no way he believes in all that filth. You'll see soon."

James stared at her glaring face for a long moment before he released a tired sigh.

"You know, Evans, I loved you," James said honestly. Lily's eyes widened, and so did everyone's. The boy looked at her and chuckled mirthlessly. "Surprising, isn't it? Be as it may, but I really did."

His eyes hardened, and Lily found herself rooted to the spot, unable to look away.

James continued, "And now I wonder just how I fell for you. I've been thinking lately, you know? Harry told me how I had to mature a bit if I wanted you to like me. But now I realize it's not just me who needs to mature. I guess I had put very little worth in myself if I was ready to bend over for you, when instead I think it's you who don't deserve me, not like this."

"What are you—" Lily started before he cut her off.

"You can go on and behave like the idiot you've been, Evans. I'm done bothering myself with you," James declared, to everyone's surprise. He smiled sadly at the girl and shook his head. "I'm through with you, Evans. Do what you want to do with yourself. However, for what it's worth, I really hope for your sake that this blindfold you have so eagerly wrapped around your eyes when it comes to Snape comes off before you get hurt."

With a final nod, James turned around and walked out of the portrait hole, shutting the common room door firmly behind him and leaving a shellshocked group of students. Lily stayed rooted to the spot for a few seconds, eyes wide in disbelief before she abruptly turned around and darted upstairs. Alice stared at the boys with wide eyes and Harry gave her a subtle nod. She quickly rushed after the redhead.

"Fucking hell," Sirius muttered as he walked over and dropped on the couch. Harry stared furiously into the fire in silence.

-Break-

It was a few hours into curfew when Harry walked back and forth in front of the Room of Requirement, sighing when the door didn't materialize. It seemed his hunch was right.

Whipping his wand out, he conjured his Patronus and whispered something. The ethereal stag phased through the room and he leaned against the opposite wall with his hands in his pockets, staring at Sirius who was standing a few steps in front of him with a frown.

"Your Patronus looks a lot like Prongs' animagus form, you know?" Sirius remarked keenly. Harry shrugged.

They didn't have to wait for long as the door opened.

"Merlin, Prongs," Sirius whispered as he stared at the disheveled look his best friend sported. Harry sighed and walked over to join them. The trio walked inside the room and the door vanished behind them. Harry willed the room to conjure three comfortable chairs and a table with an assortment of food directly from the kitchens.

"Eat," he instructed the boy when he looked in surprise, and with a sigh, James started to eat. Sirius stared at his friend with sadness while Harry looked on sternly.

"I better not find you skipping meals like this, or acting like a lovesick fool who's got his arse kicked. You're better than that," he remarked firmly. James looked up with a glare which quelled down under Harry's penetrating stare.

"Look, I'm not here to lecture you or anything. What you want to do when it comes to Lily is your decision. I have no right to interfere, so I won't. But as the oldest of us, I do have something to say, if you're open to listening, that is," Harry continued. James frowned but gave a short nod as he continued to eat.

"Tell me something first. What do you know about Snape's connection to Lily?"

Eyes downcast, James replied in a scratchy voice, "He was the one who told her that she was a witch. They met a few years before we started Hogwarts and have been friends since."

Harry nodded, "They are childhood friends, and as such, Lily has a fond memory of Snape, probably similar to what you and the Marauders have here?"

James shrugged. "Maybe, I guess so."

Harry nodded.

"Now, if someone comes to you, saying that Sirius had become a pureblood supremacist, would you believe it? Or let's say, in the future, if someone tells you that one or more of Sirius, Remus or Peter have joined Voldemort, what would your reaction be?"

"Fuck no! There's no way any of us would ever do that!" Sirius retorted in place of James. Harry winced internally, considering what Pettigrew had done, but outwardly, he continued to stare at James, who sighed in understanding.

"Now you understand why Lily is so hellbent on defending Snape, don't you?" Harry asked with a small smile. "In the future, if, suppose, Peter does indeed join Voldemort and someone tells you about it, I'm sure you won't even consider it. Your trust in each other is too much."

"But I'll for sure consider it if Moony or Padfoot told me about it," James replied. Harry nodded.

"Like what Marlene did today. And what did Lily say? That she would talk to Snape about it. Tell me, won't you do the same with Peter?"

James frowned. "But there is one thing you are missing, Harry. It is blatantly obvious for everyone to see what kind of person Snivellus is. If Peter or anyone else acted like that, I won't need someone else to tell me that he was in the wrong. I could see it with my two eyes and understand the truth with this brain I have here."

Harry chuckled. "And you think Snape has ever acted out of order with Lily in sight? Can you recall even one incident when he has shown his true colors in front of Lily?"

James opened his mouth to reply, only to come up short. He could indeed recall no instance of Snivellus behaving like that in front of Lily. Harry looked at him with an understanding gaze.

"You can't recall even one incident, right? Then how can you expect Lily to believe it when she has never seen him acting like that?"

"I get it," James replied, frowning.

"Look mate," Harry rubbed his face with a sigh, "You admitted for everyone to hear that you loved Lily. Until now, you have only pestered her with your advances. You never said anything about your feelings. Now that you have, you better believe she would be thinking about everything in an entirely different light. After all, you don't say something like that and assume there would be no effect. That girl would be beside herself now, I can tell you that much."

James nodded, looking down on his half-eaten plate.

"I will only tell you to rethink on what you just said to Lily. Whether you still decide to cut ties with her is another matter, but think about it once again," Harry continued. "Now that you understand where she is coming from, that's the least you can do."

With a sigh, James leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. It reflected the cloudy sky outside. In a soft voice, James replied, "I think I need to take my mind away from Lily for some time."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked inquisitively. James looked at him and gave a small smile.

"Things have been different between me and her this year. Probably because of what has happened already so far. It seems a little bit of time away from her would do my mind a whole lot of good."

Harry nodded. "As I said, it's up to you. Think on it and decide. You don't have to answer to anyone but yourself. And you," he turned to look at Sirius.

"What about me?"

"What's going on between you and Marlene now?"

"Nothing," the boy shrugged.

"Yeah, pull another one," Harry replied. "With the way you'd been warning her about Snape and how you reacted after she came back this evening, don't think anyone who heard about it will have any doubts."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Sirius shrugged.

"Seems I have to spell it out for you," Harry sighed. "Go and ask her out if you fancy her so much already."

Sirius looked at him and laughed.

"Seriously?" He wheezed. "No way I'm tying myself to one. The charm of Sirius Black is too valuable to be wasted on a single woman."

"How many girls have you hooked up with this year then?" Harry asked and leaned back in his chair. "Go on, I'm very interested in listening."

"W-well, everything's on track. It's only been a little while since we got back here. Soon you'll hear about the great Sirius Black pleasuring witch after witch in the broom closets… or maybe I'll bring some of them here. Seems more versatile," Sirius grinned as he looked around.

"She won't wait forever, Padfoot," Harry remarked gently. Sirius' grin faded for a second before it returned full force.

"Her loss then. I've told her that she's welcome to join the illustrious club already. If she doesn't, what else can I do?" The boy shrugged. Harry looked at him and sighed.

"I hope you don't regret it when someone else takes her away. I've already seen a few blokes giving her interested looks, not that I can blame them. That one's a looker," Harry remarked teasingly.

"Oi! Keep your eyes on my cousin, will you?"

"Jealous much?" Harry grinned.

"Ha!" Sirius scoffed. "As if. It's just I've got a little bit riding on you getting it on with Cissy. You know, pissing Malfoy off. By the way, I'm sure you must've made some progress. No way Malfoy would've acted out like that if he didn't feel threatened."

Harry didn't bother to verbally reply and instead, he leaned back with a self-satisfied smirk and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Let's just say that Malfoy's seen nothing yet."

Sirius grinned. "Just make sure I'm there when you snog Cissy's brains out in front of that peacock. I want to savor the moment."

"You know," Harry began with a deadpan look on his face. "The way you're talking, anyone would be hard-pressed to guess that she's your cousin."

Sirius waved his hand dismissively. "I'm not saying I'll watch you two fuck. Snogging's normal."

Harry shook his head in exasperation and even James chuckled.

"I seriously don't understand how that mind of yours works," he remarked honestly as Sirius grinned. However, his next words sobered the boy up real quick.

"Bad times are coming, Sirius. We don't know what could happen to any of us. Do you really want to take the risk just to keep up this charade of a depraved idiot? Think about it, mate."

He stared at Sirius who looked back at him in silence. Off to the side, James frowned.

"Why is your Patronus so similar to my animagus form?"

Harry sighed.

"I have no idea."

-Break-

A large eagle-owl flew through the corridors of Hogwarts in the darkness of the night, descending the levels until it reached the dungeons. Here underwater, this was the only way for it to deliver the letter it had been entrusted with. The creature flew through the small owl hole that usually let the owls in and it didn't take long for it to reach its destination.

Narcissa immediately caught sight of the owl, and her eyes widened when she recognized it. Quickly, she took the letter from it and frowned as she looked at the envelope. Its delivery done, the owl took off without any delay.

"What was father's owl doing here?" Bellatrix asked as she came out of the bathroom clad in her usual nightwear. Narcissa shrugged and pulled the letter out. The more she read, the fainter she felt until the letter dropped out of her hands and fell to the floor.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Bellatrix asked with a frown and bent down to pick the letter up. As she started reading, her eyes widened.

Narcissa,

I have been approached by Lord Abraxas Malfoy regarding a potential betrothal between his son and heir Lucius, and you. It is my belief that this is a very advantageous match for us. To have the future lord of the House of Malfoy as your husband is something I never thought I could ever arrange considering we are not the part of the main line of the House of Black.

Daughter, after what happened with Andromeda, this is quite possibly more than I could have ever imagined for you, and I would very much appreciate it if you and Heir Malfoy could start to get familiar with one another.

There is nothing official yet. However, Lord Abraxas and I have reached a verbal agreement and once your grandfather returns to Britain, I believe it would not take much longer for us to make it official.

I want you to consider the betrothal already in place and act accordingly, Narcissa. I know I do not need to tell you this, but I implore you to exercise extreme caution nonetheless and ensure you do not follow into Andromeda's footsteps. Our position in this family is already very precarious, and I know you are intelligent enough to know what any misstep could entail.

Conduct yourself as befitting your station, Narcissa. I know you will not disappoint me.

With all my blessings,

Your Father

"What the actual fuck is this shit!?" Bellatrix hissed as she crumpled the letter and threw it away. "There's no way you're ever marrying that peacock!"

"Bella…" Narcissa sighed.

"I'll never let that idiot touch a hair on your head. You hear me?"

"Bella…" Narcissa tried again.

"You deserve Peverell. Yes. That's the one father should try for, not this inbred buffoon from some foreign peasant farm. You will write to father, Cissy. And you will tell him that you and Peverell have fallen for each other. Yes, that should work. Father will see that Peverell is better than that ponce in every reg—"

"Bella!" Narcissa called out loudly, cutting her twin off and giving her a soft smile when she looked over at her. "Thank you, but that is not necessary."

"What do you mean?" Bellatrix asked with a frown.

"Father's instructions are clear," Narcissa smiled sadly. "Our hands are tied here, Bella. I have no choice but to go along with it."

"You always have a choice!"

"Not in this case," Narcissa sighed with a small shake of her head. "Neither do I have a choice, and as per this letter, nor does father."

"You can't just let father emotionally blackmail you like that, Cissy!" Bellatrix retorted hotly.

"Doesn't mean he is wrong though," Narcissa sighed. "After what happened with Andi, father cannot afford another setback. You know how precarious our position in the House is. And it's not as if father could refuse Lord Malfoy."

"Like hell he couldn't!" Bellatrix hissed. "We are the Blacks! We bow to no one! Did you forget it all, Cissy?"

Narcissa smiled sadly at the girl and shook her head. "We are the Blacks, but only a cadet branch. We hold no power, Bella. We only share the name, nothing more. Father has no choice here, and once grandfather approves this, it will be final."

"Then I'll convince grandfather not to agree," Bellatrix replied.

"And in turn worsen our standing in the family," Narcissa sighed. "Why can't you realize we are in no position to make any demands of grandfather, Bella? The pride of the Blacks can never be brought down. After what happened with Andi, we won't be allowed any leeway. It's better to just agree with whatever comes and be done with it."

"Then I will deal with that ponce myself. No betrothal if there is no ponce, right?"

"You will do no such thing!" Narcissa said furiously as she stood up and glared at her twin, who returned the glare twofold. "Do you even listen to yourself, you idiot!? Murdering the heir of a pureblood house!? You will be sent to life in Azkaban for that! And don't even think that you could ever pull it off without implicating yourself."

Bellatrix gritted her teeth, seething and glaring at her twin as Narcissa sat on her bed with a sigh.

"Looks like you have a clear shot at Harry now, since I am out," Narcissa whispered with a chuckle.

"With an attitude like that, I'm sure you never deserved him in the first place," Bellatrix hissed. "We are twins. We were supposed to share him! But now I think it was always meant to be like this."

"Bella…" Narcissa whispered. Bellatrix ignored her.

"I don't care," her twin retorted. "The fact that you're going to just accept this without even trying shows that you're a coward."

Narcissa stared at her twin in profound sadness, who glared at her.

"You heard that right, Cissy. You won't even fight for what you want? I thought you were better than that!"

"I told you I can't—"

"Save your excuses."

Narcissa stared at her sister who ignored her and slid inside the covers of her bed.

'There's no way I'll let that swine put his hands on you,' Bellatrix thought furiously as she closed her eyes.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

The morning dawned heavily on Narcissa who blearily opened her eyes and looked around the girls' dormitory. It had been a troublesome night for her, and she had barely been able to sleep. Every so often, the sight of that letter and the words it carried jolted her awake. Sighing, she looked over at her sister's bed and noted with a frown that she was already awake and reading something.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Reading," Bella replied promptly without taking her eyes off the leather-bound textbook she was reading. It didn't seem like any school text they had been prescribed.

"This early? What are you reading?" Narcissa slowly got up, pulling her covers up to her chest as she looked at her.

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with, you idiot," Bella replied curtly. Narcissa frowned.

"Bella you know I can't do anything about it…"

"I don't want to hear it," Bella retorted and slammed the book shut, shoving it inside her backpack and walking over to her. Narcissa cried out when her sister grabbed her hair harshly, a glare prominent on her face, before she hissed, "You are a coward, Cissy. And I don't want to talk to you right now."

Narcissa could only sit there in abject shock as her sister pushed her away and walked toward the bathroom without a backward glance.

"What just happened?" The blonde beauty whispered to herself, caressing her hair gently.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, Bellatrix stared at the strand of blonde hair in her hand and smirked before putting it in a vial and corking it properly.

"Nice," she smirked.

-Break-

"Miss Black."

The very last voice Narcissa ever wanted to hear made her stop as she walked down the stairs and into the common room. She looked over and saw none other than Lucius Fucking Malfoy giving her that vile smirk of his. She had half a mind to curse that smug look off his face. He was accompanied by his band of thugs who had nothing better to do than to terrorize young muggleborns and half-bloods all day long. All the idiots were smirking at her, and she felt reduced to an object on display. She had never felt so disgusted in her life, and could not help but wonder if this was what awaited her in the future.

Not that I can do anything about it, she thought to herself.

A voice that sounded awfully similar to her twin shouted the word 'COWARD!' at her, and she promptly turned a deaf ear toward it.

"Heir Malfoy," she greeted courteously.

Lucius stared at the alluring beauty that was Narcissa Black clad in her usual Hogwarts uniform, his eyes lingering in a few spots more than usual. Narcissa's lips tightened.

"It is my belief that you received a certain letter from your father yesterday?" Lucius asked, his smug smirk still plastered on his face. Narcissa ignored it with some effort and gave a small nod.

"I did, yes."

"Splendid. And I hope you have no qualms about it?"

Despite how much Narcissa wanted to push everything to the side and run away, she shook her head in silent acceptance. Lucius' smirk widened.

"I'm glad to see that," he replied. "I look forward to getting to know you a little better, Miss Black. I am sure you will conduct yourself as befitting your station as the daughter of the esteemed House of Black."

Narcissa's skin crawled at his lecherous stare, and she could only give him a small smile and a nod.

"I hope you will be joining us at meals from now on, Miss Black?"

Knowing it for what it was, Narcissa nodded, and Lucius stood up. One by one, he and his band of thugs walked out of the common room, leaving Narcissa rooted to the spot, staring at the floor. Sighing, she turned around and saw her sister almost stumble into Lucius, who stepped back.

"Watch your steps, Lucy," Bella grinned as she usually did, patting the blonde's cheek condescendingly before running her fingers through his hair. "You still haven't told me what you use to keep these so well maintained."

Lucius gave the brunette a wary smile and walked away without saying anything. Narcissa looked on and didn't miss the lecherous stare the older Lestrange brother gave her sister, and she was sure her sister didn't either, as her eyes hardened into a glare. Rudolphus immediately averted his eyes and walked away without a backward glance. The rest of those idiots followed suit, keeping their eyes firmly away from Bella.

Never let it be said that her sister didn't have those idiots in a chokehold. Almost all of them were apprehensive of her.

She saw Bella turn to look at her and mouth 'COWARD!' before she walked away. Narcissa sighed.

Her sister was not happy at all.

-Break-

It was a somber mood at the Gryffindor table as Harry sat with the rest of the Marauders, Frank and the Prewett twins. The girls were sitting a fair bit away from them. After the events of the previous day, none of them had talked to each other. Marlene and Sirius had exchanged a few glances but nothing more than that, while James and Lily hadn't looked at each other even once.

Amidst all the drama, Harry could only sigh and hope that they got their heads in place soon and put this matter behind them.

Not for the first time, he looked over at the Slytherin table for a glimpse of the familiar blonde-haired beauty, only to sigh in disappointment when he failed to find her. Bellatrix was there, sitting alone and far away from the wrong Slytherin crowd, and he found her giving him speculative looks every now and then. He wondered what it was all about. It was different from the usual looks he had gotten used to from the dark-haired beauty.

"You're awfully impatient today," James commented from beside him. "She'll be here soon. Eat up already."

Harry chuckled. "There's too much morose atmosphere around here. Forgive me if I'm looking for something to cheer myself up."

Beside James, Sirius gagged.

"Not even hooked up with her yet and you're already acting like this," the Black heir muttered in faux disgust. Harry snorted. Leave it to the idiot to make everything crass.

It was barely a minute later when the girl of his desires entered the Great Hall. Harry kept looking at her as she walked toward the Slytherin table where her sister was sitting. However, he frowned when he saw her pass her sister who didn't even react and his eyes widened slightly when she took a seat right beside none other than Lucius Fucking Malfoy who smirked at her. The small smile she gave the Malfoy heir felt like a punch to his gut.

"What the fuck?" James whispered from beside him and Harry continued to stare at the blonde beauty with a deepening frown. She never even looked in his direction.

"Harry…" Sirius tried and shook him, and Harry saw he had been gripping his fork so tightly it had left an indent in his palm. Harry relaxed his hold, letting the fork drop on the plate with an audible clang.

"I'm fine," he managed with gritted teeth. "If you guys will excuse me…"

His appetite lost in its entirety, Harry stepped out of his seat and made his way out of the Great Hall with long, purposeful strides, leaving all his friends staring at him with visible frowns on their faces.

At the Slytherin table, Lucius and a few of his thugs smirked as they saw Peverell walk away, having obviously seen where Narcissa Black belonged while Narcissa frowned to herself as she slowly ate her breakfast. However, Bellatrix stared at Peverell with a meaningful gaze, her eyes drilling holes into his retreating back as he walked out of the Great Hall without a backward glance.

It was time for her to have a talk with the man she was attracted to, and who she knew her sister was falling for.

-Break-

Harry was aware that his emotions were running wild, and his Occlumency was failing him right now. That left him with no option other than to leave the Great Hall before he destroyed something. He had no time to trek all the way to the seventh floor to go to the Room of Requirement, which left him to make do with one of the abandoned classrooms on the first floor near the rightmost corridor which had fallen into obscurity in the past few decades or so.

The moment he got inside one of the classrooms, he immediately shut the door so hard its bang must have echoed far into the distance. He could not care less.

His wand was out in an instant, and the vilest curses known to wizardkind left it in a heartbeat. His heavy breathing filled the room as he glared straight ahead with murderous intent rolling off him in malicious waves. Curses that he knew must have been made purely for torture collided with the wall, leaving lacerations and gouges against the surface, sending pieces of concrete flying off. He remained short of the Unforgivables only, and once he was done, the wall in front of him was entirely unrecognizable.

So lost was he in his rage that he never noticed that the door had opened and a certain dark-haired beauty was standing at the threshold, staring at the display of violent spellcasting with half-lidded eyes and her teeth biting her lower lip sensually.

It was only when Harry finished with his spellcasting and was breathing heavily that his solitary audience made her presence known.

Harry abruptly turned around at the sound of applause and managed to see through his livid haze none other than Bellatrix Les-Black looking at him with nothing but admiration in her gaze as she clapped. His eyes watched her as she walked into the classroom, closing the door behind her, and applying what he quickly recognized as a locking and silencing charm.

The moment she came into the classroom proper, she found herself disarmed and bound with tight ropes, her back pushed against the wall as the magnificent man in front of her pressed his wand under her chin, his eyes boring deep into hers. Bellatrix was sure that he was using Legilimency, and with her nonexistent Occlumency shields, it would be child's play for him to discern her deepest, darkest secrets. However, nothing happened. She felt no shift in his eyes which she knew always happened when one used Legilimency, and for a second, she wondered if he even knew of the art. She immediately chided herself. There was no way someone as powerful and dangerous as Harry Peverell was not a master of the mind arts. The fact that he didn't try to do anything while she was at his mercy made her respect him even more and feel disappointed in equal measure.

The ropes he had conjured within a blink of an eye coiled around her body like a persistent serpent, and Bellatrix felt it caressing her skin over her Hogwarts uniform. She paid particular attention to how it rubbed against her round pert ass, her womanhood, and her large tits. Her nipples stood rock hard under its ministrations, and she looked at him with desire written in her eyes.

"Merlin, Peverell…" she whispered, looking him in the eyes with unbridled lust. "You have no idea what you do to me…"

Harry stared the witch down but instead of cowering away like he expected her to, she grew more daring as she pushed her ample chest further upward, stretching the ropes binding her.

"What are you doing here?" He asked her in a dangerous whisper. "How much of it did you see?"

Bellatrix looked at him with a wicked smirk and giggled.

"Oh! Everything!" She admitted brazenly. "You do not need to fear anything, Peverell… not from me at least. All your secrets will always be safe with me, I promise."

Harry scoffed. This girl was mental, and he'd be mad if he ever entrusted her with any secret of his.

"I very much doubt that," he replied, earning a pout from her.

"Oh come on! You shower Cissy with so much attention and dare I say, affection too. Spare some for her dear twin as well!"

The name of Narcissa made him glare at her, and Bellatrix smirked. This man had it bad for her sister. Just seeing her once with someone else and he had lost control like this.

"I'm sorry about Cissy, but she's out of reach now, or is about to," she told him with a chuckle. "I have proof. See for yourself."

Harry pursed his lips, his gaze expectant. Bellatrix smirked up at him and leaned forward so that she could take in his masculine smell. This close, she whispered, "There's a letter inside my bra. Feel free to reach in and take it out."

Harry leaned back and stared at her, and Bellatrix looked up at him with the same lustful smirk. He whipped his wand and vanished her bindings, staring at her expectantly. Bellatrix pouted before smirking once again, and Harry watched as she unbuttoned her shirt in front of him. No matter how much he was infatuated with Narcissa already, there was no way he could have taken his eyes off the impressive chest of Bellatrix Black encased in only a black bra that barely covered her large bust. This minx deliberately wore a smaller size. He saw a piece of parchment folded inside one of the cups, peeking out like a pervert, and Bellatrix smirked up at him.

"Go on, take it out," she whispered sensuously. With a sigh, Harry grabbed it, making sure he never touched her skin and took it out as quickly as he could. Ignoring the smirking brunette, he folded the letter open and started to read.

Seething, he crumpled the letter in his palm when he was done, glaring at the wall right above Bellatrix's head. The brunette looked at him and chuckled.

"See, my lovely twin is for all intents and purposes out of your reach. Once grandfather comes back, they will sign the contract and it will be official. Now, I, on the other hand," she smirked, whispering with sinful promise coloring her tone, "I am as unattached as you are, and I am her twin. Her other half, that consists of everything she lacks. Just as I'm sure she consists of everything I lack. So different, and yet, so similar."

Harry watched as the witch caressed her alluring curves to demonstrate her point. His eyes dropped to her almost exposed chest before they traveled downward to her flat belly and onto her skirt that preserved her modesty. Slowly, he dragged his eyes back up her body and looked her in the eyes. Bellatrix gave him a saucy wink.

"You might not have her," she whispered enticingly. "But you can have me, Harry… I'll forever be yours, and you can count me for all your needs… what do you say?"

Harry stayed still as she leaned forward and pressed herself firmly against him, taking his hands and making his palms caress her naked sides. Her skin was indeed very soft to touch – a perfect contrast to the hideous witch that the Bellatrix from his previous timeline had been. That seemed like an entirely different life now. Her hands made him touch her all over her flat belly before she brought them up to rest under her tits, making his palm cup the underside of them. Her breathing was labored, but Harry remained still, letting her do as she pleased.

"You see how much I want you, Harry?" she whispered, making him touch her skin, her breath caressing his lips as her eyes closed. "Cissy might be out of reach, but her perfect substitute is right here. And let me tell you, I'll take it everywhere."

Harry's eyes were open and he saw Bellatrix pull away with the same smirk before she took his hand and slowly dragged it down until she had it under her skirt.

"Just say the word and you can touch me," she whispered, her other hand holding his right over her breast. "You can see how much I want you, Harry. You can feel it all. Just say the word."

Harry stayed silent, and Bellatrix smirked. Slowly, she dragged his hand out of her skirt and released her hold on both his hands. All the while, Harry simply stared at her.

"Good. I would've been very pissed if you'd accepted your defeat so easily," she said, and Harry was surprised to see how quickly her attitude did a complete 180. Where she had been nothing less than a seductive temptress a mere fifteen seconds ago, this was all businesslike. He watched as she buttoned up her shirt, hiding her bra-clad breasts from his view, and tapped her wand to her uniform, taking care of all the creases and leaving her looking as immaculate as a proper Slytherin princess.

"Listen up, Peverell," Bellatrix stated seriously. "I know you like Cissy, and you better believe she's head over heels for you as well. And I hate Lucy, as does Cissy. I don't want to see her trapped in a loveless marriage, or Merlin forbid, an abusive one. Both of us know what kind of marriage contract someone like Malfoy would draft, and Cissy would become nothing more than a notch on that ponce's bedpost with no rights to herself. She might not be physically abused but there would be no shortage of mental scars, and I'll die before I let it happen."

Harry continued to listen silently, flabbergasted at the sudden change in her demeanor. The Bellatrix from his previous timeline was nowhere as eloquent or expressive. This was… even nice.

"Now, you, Peverell, are someone I wholeheartedly approve of," Bellatrix continued with a smirk. "I've not known you for long, but I've already understood what kind of person you are. Someone who will keep Cissy happy. I don't care if you cast dark spells or you can kill someone or even if you use the Unforgivables. What I care about is how you feel about Cissy, and that is enough for me."

"Glad I have the sister's approval," he snorted, speaking for the first time since that… act of hers. He had to admit that he had truly fallen for it.

Bellatrix smirked.

"That you do, and it is my responsibility to do everything in my power to ensure it's you who pops Cissy's cherry and you who marries her. No one else."

"You are worse than Sirius," Harry muttered.

"That one takes after me," Bellatrix chuckled. "Lucky bastard managed to get himself away from the snake pit."

"You didn't want to be a Slytherin?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Nah. Both Cissy and I wanted to be 'Claws. No stupid politics or idiots around and total privacy. Alas, we are from the cadet branch and that hag Walburga would've thrown a hissy fit like she did with our idiot of a cousin if we'd been in any other house. Didn't seem worth the hassle," Bellatrix replied with a shrug.

Harry sighed. That Walburga again…

"Back to Cissy then," Bellatrix continued. "As you read in that letter, she has to act as a lady courting another pureblood, which means taking meals with the ponce, going on walks, holding hands, perhaps even an occasional kiss or two. But I'd die before letting that asshole even touch Cissy, let alone shove his tongue down her throat!"

Harry's eyes narrowed at the image.

"Yeah, keep accumulating that anger up and unleash it on bloody Lucy in one go," Bellatrix grinned, and despite himself, Harry chuckled.

"I assume you have a plan?" He asked, wondering what she had cooked up.

"There's a nifty little ritual we'll be conducting right now," Bellatrix informed him nonchalantly, and Harry stared at her, taken aback.

"A ritual? Here? Now?"

"You want to give Lucy the time to shove his tongue down Cissy's throat?"

Harry stared at her. He realized he was doing it a little too much.

"What do you want me to do?"

Bellatrix smirked and fished out two vials from her pockets.

"This one contains Cissy's hair. This one contains Lucy's hair," she said, holding up one after the other. "You are the only one that can do it."

Harry frowned and saw Bellatrix conjure a chalk. He watched as she drew the runic sequences on the floor before motioning for him to place the contents of the vials inside their respective circles. Harry followed her instructions and nodded once he was done.

"This is a Black family secret but I see no harm in telling you considering you'll eventually be marrying into the family anyway," Bellatrix remarked nonchalantly, making Harry chuckle. She pulled out a piece of parchment from the pocket of her skirt and handed it to him. Harry opened it curiously and he immediately recognized it from one of the tomes Arcturus had given him. He held back a snort as he remembered what it did.

It was created by an ancestor of the Blacks to prevent another man from trying to touch his wife. There was no significant harm to the man, but whenever he tried to touch his wife, he would suffer from a shock. Harry understood why it had to be him who had to perform this ritual. His genuine desire and adoration for Narcissa would fuel the ritual.

It worked only if the woman in question didn't want the other man to touch her as well, and the intensity of the shocks was directly proportional to how much the woman abhorred the man in question. Another perk of the ritual was that it didn't even let the man cry out in pain or react in any other way. He simply felt a shock and nothing else. Considering the scenario, it seemed perfect to Harry.

"As you've read already, Lucy will get a shock if he tries to touch Cissy. Much less than he deserves but it'll do for now," Bellatrix smirked.

Chuckling, Harry knelt on the floor and started channeling his magic into the runic sequence. He whispered the incantation and they smirked when the runes glowed before vanishing in a puff of smoke, burning the hairs.

"Now, as long as Cissy hates him, which is for life, Lucy will keep getting shocked into oblivion if he tries to touch her," Bellatrix smirked as Harry stood up and walked over to her.

"You are a wicked woman," Harry could not help but comment, and Bellatrix turned to smirk at him. He was surprised when she stepped forward and pressed herself against him once again, and this time, Harry could not stop himself from reacting to her curvaceous form pressed all over his front.

Bellatrix gently brushed her palms over his chest, pressing her breasts against his ribs as she stared deep into his eyes.

"I will never steal you away from Cissy," she whispered in an odd mixture of seriousness and sensuality, and Harry listened intently as he stared into her haunting eyes – a darker shade of ashes compared to Narcissa's. There was nothing maniacal about them. "But I will never leave you alone either."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, curious.

Bellatrix smirked. "You belong to Cissy, Harry. I have accepted it, and I will ensure it happens. But I belong to you. You and Cissy will have each other for good, but you'll have me too."

Surprised, Harry remained rooted on the spot as Bellatrix took his hand once again and made him palm her lace-clad ass under her skirt. The fabric felt oh so thin and soft under his skin and his eyes widened slightly when she pushed his finger under the lace. He could feel her heat.

She gave him a sensual grin and leaned upward, her breath ghosting his lips again.

"In your quest for your Cissy, don't forget your Bella," she whispered, and before Harry could react, she stepped away from him with a mischievous grin. "Just something to remember me by," she called out before looking down. A lecherous grin overtook her features.

"And get that fixed before you go to classes. I'd have helped you out but it's Cissy's turn first," she looked down meaningfully and turned around.

More than a little shocked, Harry could only stare at the woman who confused him more than any other as she walked out of the classroom with a purposeful sway of her hips.

"Fucking hell…"

-Break-

To say that his friends were surprised by his chipper attitude when he joined them for the classes was an understatement.

He had been livid when he had left them in the Great Hall and barely half an hour later he was sitting in his seat with a smile as he hummed a happy tune to himself. Frank was very much suspicious.

"Mate, you haven't snorted some of that Cheering powder, right?" He asked bluntly, making the Prewett twins widen their eyes in shock. Harry looked at him and patted his back in mirth.

"Everything's fine," he replied, grinning.

"He definitely snorted the Cheering powder," Fabian nodded and looked at his twin. "I told you to keep it in your trunk, you dolt!"

"But I finished snorting all of it last night after tryouts!" Gideon complained, earning a disbelieving look from both his twin and Frank. Harry simply chuckled.

Their little moment of idiocy ended soon as McGonagall entered the classroom.

"I am sure whatever you are talking about is really funny, but I would appreciate it if you four get it under control and refrain from interrupting the class," the Scotswoman said sternly.

"I must say you look in a perfectly instructive mood today, Professor, not to mention rather lovely," Harry greeted her with a smile. His friends and most of the students gave him disbelieving looks as McGonagall pursed her lips.

"It seems the company you keep has finally started to rub on you, Mr. Peverell. And here I thought you would meet the high expectations I had started forming of you," she replied.

"I'll ensure not to disappoint you, Professor," Harry replied, still smiling.

McGonagall snorted to herself as she started her lesson. As it went on, Harry could feel a certain blonde beauty giving him curious glances throughout. However, he expertly ignored those glances and continued to listen to the lecture with a smile plastered on his face. In reality though, he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and snog her senseless for all to see. He was sure at least one person would find it funny.

Bellatrix and he had their first proper interaction today, and he had been left flabbergasted at the end of it. Whatever he had expected of the young woman, that had not been it. She was a weirdo for sure, but he found her oddly endearing. Although she had tried to seduce him and even played her games on him to test his resolve, he found her a rather charming person. The only thing that confused him slightly was this… obsession she seemed to have with him.

Harry considered himself a pretty good judge of character, and Bellatrix had in no way been acting when she was trying to seduce him. Every quirk of her lips, every twitch of her eyes, every word that came out of her lips and every way her hand guided his all over her curvaceous frame was genuine. That sequence of events had solidified his belief that Bellatrix wanted him. She had even admitted to it explicitly in the end.

She loved her sister with all her heart. There was no doubt in his mind about that. And he knew she would do anything for her. But she was also fixated on him, and he firmly believed that she would stop at nothing in her quest to give herself to him.

And yet she had told him that she had no intention of stealing him from Narcissa. That small tidbit confused him. When he and Narcissa got together, how exactly did she plan on giving herself to him without taking him away from Narcissa? He didn't know, but he had to admit that he was surely looking forward to seeing her try.

Try as he might, he also could not help but look upon it with a favorable eye. Bellatrix had told him explicitly that she was his, that she belonged to him and no one else. That meant he already held a place in her heart that was above everyone else bar her sister, who she would never betray. That certainly gave him a significant degree of power over her. Power that he could perhaps use to prevent her from joining Voldemort's forces in the future. However, with that power came the responsibility to ensure that he didn't turn her away or make her feel as if he had abandoned her.

He knew perfectly how someone like Bellatrix could react if she felt that he didn't value her. The strength of her feelings for him could transform into an inferno of darkness that could destroy everything, and if it happened, Bellatrix could turn out to be one of his biggest foes. She was already delving into rituals, particularly those developed by the Blacks, and he knew some of the fucked-up rituals those assholes had come up with. He had read through the tomes, and he knew a few of those had the power to warp your mind completely, taking away every positive emotion you had and leaving you with nothing apart from malice. He truly believed now that Bellatrix had either undertaken or was subjected to one of those rituals in the past timeline which had taken away everything that made her such a charming, and dare he say, a tempting woman, and made her nothing more than a hideous maniac.

It was perhaps not ethical of him, and it was also perhaps an abuse of her trust, but if it enabled him to preserve her sanity, thereby saving her and preventing her from joining Voldemort, then he would do it without any hesitation whatsoever.

He wanted Narcissa to be his, just as he wanted to be hers. But if Bellatrix wanted to become his, he would wholeheartedly claim her as well, even though he felt nothing for her.

Only if Narcissa agreed though. He would never betray her.

-Break-

Narcissa was confused. She knew Harry would not like it when she had joined Malfoy for breakfast, and true to her prediction, he had been livid as he walked out of the Great Hall. She had never felt so much self-loathing as she had felt in that moment, and a part of her wanted nothing more than to just run into his arms and tell him how she felt about him.

Alas, her duty to her house demanded her to accept her father's command and she had to endure Malfoy and his group of thugs constantly badmouthing Harry, his friends, Aunt Dorea and her family, and the others. Her disgust had been apparent for all to see, but instead of behaving like decent humans and ceasing their poisonous drivel, those lowlives had instead taken it up a notch.

Narcissa had finally had enough when a few of them started to crudely say what they would do to muggleborns like Lily Evans if they got their hands on her. Her appetite died, and she had abruptly tried to stand up when Malfoy dared to put his hand on her.

However, she was surprised when he pulled his hand away abruptly before he could touch her as if he had been shocked. Confused, she stared at him only to find him glaring at her. His glare soon transformed into confusion when he saw her face, and Narcissa could not help but frown.

She didn't pay it any mind and promptly walked away without giving anyone a second glance.

She had not been looking forward to seeing Harry get upset, but she knew there was no way to avoid it. Thus, it had come as an immense surprise to her when Harry arrived at the Transfiguration class with no trace of ire or sadness in his demeanor. Instead, he was happier than she had ever seen him. He had even innocuously flirted with McGonagall, something that had left her in a disbelieving state. Throughout the class, she kept glancing at him, secretly hoping she could catch his eyes, but he didn't even look at her.

It hurt to see that he had already seemingly pushed her out of his mind as if she had never been there, and she was stuck in such a predicament that she couldn't even interact with him properly. She could indeed send him a letter or try to meet him in secret, but for what? They had not been lovers or anything remotely close. It wasn't as if Harry had ever said anything, and for that matter, neither had she.

There was a mutual attraction between them, and that had been it.

Yet, her twin's words from the previous night remained at the forefront of her mind.

'You're a coward, Cissy! With an attitude like that, you never deserved him!'

"Perhaps you were right, Bella," Narcissa whispered to herself. "Maybe I truly never deserved him. However, I hope you give him enough for both of us."

The sound of slow claps behind her made her abruptly turn around, and she came face to face with none other than her sister. Recoiling under that vehement glare, Narcissa stood rooted to the spot in silence.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

“Bella? What are you doing here?” Narcissa asked in surprise as her sister stared at her.

“Not acting like a helpless little girl who can’t follow her heart and do what she wants, that’s for sure,” Bellatrix retorted as she walked forward.

Narcissa sighed and turned around to look over at the vast Hogwarts grounds. Normally, the sight would fill her with calmness but today it was having no such effect. The presence of her twin who was understandably put off by her was not helping matters either. She heard Bella’s footsteps as her twin came closer.

“We’ve had this discussion already, Bella,” she said softly. “I can’t act selfish right now. You know why.”

“Yeah, we have,” Bellatrix replied as she joined her twin by the railing. She leaned against it and felt the cold wind blow her dark curls over her face. “And I told Harry about it as well.”

Narcissa’s head did a sudden whiplash as she stared at her twin with wide eyes.

“You what?” She asked hoarsely.

“Showed him that letter,” Bellatrix shrugged unrepentantly. “He deserved to know why you suddenly started to sit with that peacock.”

“No he didn’t!” Narcissa retorted. “You had no business telling him about it.”

“Seeing how he’s been pining after you only to get completely ignored without any explanation, I believe he deserved to know,” Bellatrix replied. “You should’ve seen him in that classroom. Merlin, even Grandfather would’ve had a hard time casting a few of those curses.”

Narcissa stared at her twin in surprise.

“Oh yeah,” Bellatrix chuckled. “He was casting so many dangerous and powerful spells as if they were mere tickling hexes. That wall was really a sorry sight once he was done. I think he was imagining it to be Lucy’s face instead.”

Narcissa stayed silent.

“He also told me he loves you,” Bellatrix said without missing a beat. Narcissa’s eyes widened in shock. Her twin saw it and smirked.

“He did. Said he fell for you the moment he saw you, and that he was planning on asking for your hand once you two got together. Something about respecting you and not doing what pureblood assholes did… you know… treating this as some transaction and not something to be cherished. You can’t even imagine how he felt after reading that letter.”

Narcissa stood there, shaking as Bella’s words dawned on her. Her eyes remained wide and she could do nothing but stare in the distance, her twin’s words running around in her mind.

Harry loved her. He wanted to marry her. The notion pleased her, excited her, and scared her. However, the most prominent feeling was one of loss.

“Then I remembered what you told me last night,” Bellatrix continued, making her twin look at her once again. “You know, that I have a clear shot at him now. So I decided why not listen to you and try something for myself.”

Narcissa stared at her twin’s smirk for a long moment, a foreboding feeling washing over her.

“What did you do?” She asked in a whisper.

Bellatrix smirked and made a show of unbuttoning the top three buttons of her shirt, showing her bra-clad mounds to her twin, watching her eyes widen in realization.

“Surely not…” Narcissa asked, horrified. “You didn’t!”

“What do you think?” Bellatrix asked with a snicker as she buttoned her shirt back up. “Merlin, his hands felt so good on my skin…”

“You’re lying,” Narcissa replied.

“Sorry?” Bellatrix asked with a smile.

“I refuse to believe you,” Narcissa said firmly. “Harry will never do that. Especially after telling you all those things.”

“What things?” Bellatrix asked with a chuckle, making Narcissa look at her in confusion. “Say it. What things?”

Narcissa remained silent.

“So you can’t even say it now, huh? Figures. You really are a coward. Running away from your feelings, running away from him, and simply bowing down to what Father has told you,” Bellatrix snarked. “I never knew you were such a sorry woman, Cissy.”

Narcissa glared at her twin who sneered.

“First you decide to just abandon whatever you have going on with Harry and bow down to Father’s wishes like a poor damsel, then you tell me I can go ahead and make him mine, and now that I hint at it, you react like this?” Bellatrix hissed. “Why do you care what Harry does when you’re happy being involved with Malfoy? And if you’re not happy, why don’t you do something about it?”

“What the fuck do you expect me to do then!?” Narcissa exploded, taking her twin by surprise. Bellatrix stepped back and watched as tears sprung from her twin’s eyes. She was so shocked at her twin’s response that she didn’t even notice her use of the expletive.

Narcissa glared at her twin through teary eyes.

“Just what do you expect me to do? Andi ran off with her lover, breaking off the arrangement. Have you forgotten how Grandfather treated Father after that? Sending all of us away to that house? Have you forgotten that hag Walburga’s words? Or how our parents were looked at whenever we attended those get together events?” Narcissa hissed. “Ever since we were children, we were treated as the daughters of the House of Black. But everything changed after that. Suddenly, we were only the daughters of a minor line. Worthy of nothing. And you want me to do something like what Andi did? To not think about our parents like Andi didn’t? What do you think will happen when I do something like that as well?”

Narcissa sniffed as she harshly wiped her eyes off.

“You think I liked seeing Harry like that?” She asked. “I hated myself when I saw his reaction. I hate even looking at Malfoy’s face, let alone talking to him, and now I am trapped in this. I have to choose between the man I love and the little of what remains of our father’s position in the family. How do you think I’m feeling right now, Bella?”

Bellatrix remained silent, staring at her twin.

“And then you come here with your lies about what you and Harry did. Well, guess what? I’ll never believe you,” Narcissa gritted her teeth. “I know what kind of man Harry is. He’ll say he loves me and then do that with you? Pull another one.”

Bellatrix stared at her twin with an exasperated look on her face as she leaned back against the railing.

“You done?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. Narcissa looked at her twin.

“You’re right, we didn’t do anything like that. He didn’t give in, even though I practically threw myself all over him,” Bellatrix said, noticing with satisfaction the slightly smug look that crossed her twin’s face. “I told you I won’t take him from you, Cissy. And that means making him yours.”

“I’m not doing it, Bella,” Narcissa shook her head. “I won’t betray Father like that.”

Bellatrix stared at her twin and shrugged.

“Well, then it looks like Lucy will keep getting shocked all his life,” Bellatrix replied, smirking at her twin’s look of surprise. Her look of surprise quickly transformed into one of resignation.

“What did you do, Bella?” She asked.

Bellatrix smirked, “I didn’t do anything. I simply gave your dear Harry an idea and he jumped at the chance.”

“Huh?”

“Seems like your dear Harry is the jealous type, and he doesn’t want anyone else to be able to touch you,” she replied, grinning. “He did this little ritual I found in the Black library which will make sure Lucy won’t be able to touch you as long as you have even a bit of hatred or disgust for him.”

Narcissa’s eyes widened.

“So that’s why…” she whispered.

“What was that?”

Narcissa shook her head. “He tried to touch me before he suddenly pulled away. I think he thought I did something. That was why he was glaring at me like that. It must’ve been the ritual.”

“Spot on,” Bellatrix grinned. “Your man is head over heels for you, and you better believe he’ll make sure Malfoy never touches a hair on your head, much less put his hands on you. I fully believe even now he’s planning on taking care of the ponce, for good. Not that I’ll be sad about it. More power to him, I’d say.”

Narcissa looked at her twin in concern. She didn’t want Harry to do something that could put him in danger. She knew the Malfoys had contacts in high places, not to mention allies, and even though Harry had allies of his own, she didn’t want him to get involved in all the mess that would come with it.

“That man is a fighter, Cissy,” Bellatrix grinned. “He won’t let you go so easily.”

A part of Narcissa wanted him to do something. Anything to get rid of Malfoy for her. To make her his. However, she also didn’t want him to push himself in the middle of the mess.

“I hope he doesn’t do something stupid,” Narcissa whispered.

Bellatrix scoffed, “Not everyone is a coward like you, Cissy.”

Narcissa sighed. “Bella…”

“No, you listen to me,” Bellatrix interrupted as she turned to glare at her twin. “You know what your first mistake was? Silently accepting whatever Father said.”

“I had no choice!”

“Wrong! You had a choice. You still have a choice. Nothing has been finalized yet. Lucy’s ponce father only talked to our father, and our father, like the desperate man he is, easily caved in. Didn’t even try to look for someone much more worthy or respectable,” Bellatrix snarked. “What do you think he would’ve done if he got two proposals – one from Malfoy and one from Harry? Which one do you think Grandfather would respect more? A family of French stewards or one of the most powerful bloodlines in the history of Wizarding Britain? The answer is as easy as breathing.”

Narcissa stared at her twin with wide eyes.

“You mean…”

“Not so easy, you dolt,” Bellatrix chuckled. “What? You think Harry will simply go ahead and ask Father for your hand? Don’t be so entitled. Didn’t I tell you? He won’t do it because he respects you enough to first form a relationship with you and then do things the way they are done here.”

Narcissa looked down in contemplation. Her twin was indeed right. Malfoy’s proposal might be there, but it was only that – a proposal. There was nothing official, and if Harry sent a proposal as well, there was no way her father would choose Malfoy over him.

But Harry won’t send a proposal just like that. And he won’t let Malfoy have her either. The conclusion was easy to reach.

Harry was planning on taking care of Malfoy permanently as a short-term solution to free her. And once that was done, he would think about their future.

“I can see you’re thinking critically now,” Bellatrix said with a smirk. “That’s the Cissy I know, not the one who simply bows down and accepts everything asked of her.”

“He’d be in trouble if he does something to Malfoy,” Narcissa muttered.

“Why don’t you make sure he doesn’t need to do something like that then?” Bellatrix asked with a smirk, making her twin look at her. “The only scenario in which something doesn’t happen to Lucy is if Harry sends a proposal to Father and Father rejects the Malfoys. You know what you need to do to make him send that proposal.”

Narcissa gave a small nod. She did indeed know what she needed to do.

Harry wanted a proper relationship with her. Only when they had a relationship in place would he send a proposal for her hand to her father.

“He deserves to have you fight for this love as well, Cissy,” Bellatrix said, finally hopeful that she was getting through to her twin. “He deserves to feel that you want him as well. That you want to be with him so much that you are ready to go against this unfair demand that has been put on you. After all, what kind of love do you even have for him if you’re not even going to fight for it?”

Narcissa’s eyes widened at her twin’s words.

-Break-

Harry was confused as he waited in the classroom where he and Narcissa had practiced spells. After recent events, he didn’t think she would continue their private sessions and was ready to simply go to the Room of Requirement and practice some advanced spells, but he had received a missive from her that she would be continuing their session after classes ended. He was surprised, to say the least.

He was already waiting for her in the classroom and right on time, he watched as the door swung open and shut on its own before there was a slight glimmer as the blonde took down her disillusionment charm. Turning to look at him, she nodded with a small smile.

“Should we get started then?” She asked, dropping her bag on a desk and walking over to the wall. Wordlessly, Harry walked over to the opposite end of the classroom and took a stance.

“Spells chains again?”

She nodded and without waiting for his signal, she began casting.

Harry easily batted the blue and red bolts aside before ducking under a few golden bolts as Narcissa cast relentlessly. He was slightly taken aback at both the aggressiveness of her spellcasting and the speed with which she was flicking her wand. He had not expected this of her so soon after their previous practice which had been very easy for him to deal with.

“Something troubling you?” Harry asked as he swatted a few more bolts aside, watching as they struck the walls and scorched them. Narcissa didn’t reply. She merely kept casting.

“Nothing much,” she replied. “Just a realization that I’ve been acting like a big idiot. This is me venting on myself.”

“How so?” He asked curiously as he kept batting her spells aside. Narcissa was showing no signs of slowing down, but he knew she could not keep this up for much longer. There was a limit to her spellcasting and he had taken stock of it in their previous session. She was good, but she could do with a lot of improvement.

“Oh, just let myself think from a very narrow point of view,” she replied with slight panting in her voice. “You know, when you feel so much pressure suddenly because of what happened in the past that you can think of nothing but simply accepting things the way they are…”

Harry suddenly realized the meaning of her words. There was no doubt that she was talking about this betrothal that had been forced on her. The past was undoubtedly about Andromeda. Her decision to elope with Ted Tonks had put her sister under pressure, and she could not go against her father’s wishes lest the situation worsen.

He did not know what exactly had unfolded in the Black household after Andromeda’s elopement, but considering them, it could not have been something pleasant. Furthermore, the fact that Narcissa believed she was under so much pressure that she could not think with an open mind and had quickly just submitted to what was asked of her meant it was something very serious.

“I see,” Harry replied, finally starting to cast spells of his own. This time, it was Narcissa who was on the back foot. Shield after shield was crushed under his onslaught as she stared ahead with wide eyes, overwhelmed in an instant.

“Y-yeah,” she gasped when another of her shields broke down before conjuring an Aegis and holding it against his spells. “I thought I had no choice but to accept what I was told. It’s good that I have someone who made me realize that I am not as trapped as I thought I was.”

Harry looked at her with a small frown as he stopped casting, and Narcissa brought the shield down. He called for a time-out, earning a nod from the blonde. Wordlessly, he turned around and walked over to the window, overlooking the Black Lake.

“Is that so?”

Narcissa looked at him for a few seconds, admiring his silhouette against the light that slid in through the window, and a small smile came over her face. Slowly she started walking toward him.

“It is,” she said with a small smile. “And I can’t explain how liberating it feels.”

Harry hummed as he heard her footsteps coming closer but he did not turn around. He was thinking to himself whether everything he was thinking was true, and if it was, just why Narcissa had decided to resume their sessions. There was no way Malfoy would be happy if he saw her with him. That much had been evident already.

But perhaps she had no intention to let him know either. She had arrived under a disillusionment charm to ensure no one had seen her, which meant this was a clandestine meeting she had gone ahead with, all the while knowing about the risks.

“I know Bella told you about Malfoy’s proposal,” her soft voice came from right behind him. “Believe me when I say that I don’t want to do anything with that idiot.”

Harry let out a small laugh, to her surprise.

“Believe me, I would be really doubting your intelligence if you did,” he replied, earning a chuckle from the blonde.

“That is one of the reasons, but not the only one,” she replied with a small blush as she stepped even closer.

Harry’s breath hitched slightly when she pressed against him, hugging him from behind. Her hands came up to wrap around his chest and she pressed herself as close to him as possible.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice a whisper.

“The reason why I don’t want it is because I love someone else,” she admitted softly. “And I want to be with him.”

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise as he stared ahead, his eyes unseeing. He felt her clutch onto him.

“Narcissa…”

“Shh…” she shushed gently, clutching onto his shirt. “Please wait until I’m done.”

Harry gave a small nod.

“After Andi ran away with her husband, our part of the family was completely sidelined. Father lost every bit of respect in the pureblood circles, not only because the daughter of the house ran away with another man, but also because he was a muggleborn. We were sent away to live in a small forgotten house in a forgotten settlement near Tyne, and we were asked to only attend events that required the presence of the entire house of Black,” Narcissa whispered. “Things have been bad ever since, and Father has been looking for ways to earn back the trust and prestige he’s lost. I’m sure when he saw the Malfoys make a proposal for me, he didn’t even hesitate. To him, this is more than what he thought he could arrange for me. Bella told me you read the letter he sent me. After I read it, I felt as if I had no choice. I didn’t want to be the second daughter to betray him like that, and I am sure if I had done something, his position would be a lot worse. I did not want to see that look of despair on his face again.”

Harry had turned around while she was speaking and was looking at her. Meanwhile, Narcissa was looking down.

Harry gently raised her chin to face him.

“And like the dutiful daughter you are, you chose to put yourself through the misery that a marriage with Malfoy would definitely come with,” he replied, earning a sigh from the blonde.

“Bella was very angry with me last night, and this morning as well. I can understand where she’s coming from, but I felt like I had no choice,” she replied. “It hurt me so much to ignore you this morning and sit with Malfoy, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that ritual you did. Now Malfoy will never be able to touch me.”

“You should thank your sister for that,” Harry replied with a chuckle.

“She is a unique one,” Narcissa agreed with a smile before she looked up at him. He was gazing back at her with utter adoration in his eyes and Narcissa felt as if she’d melt from only that gaze. “She told me about your reaction to it as well as how you told her you…”

Harry looked at her curiously as she trailed off, blushing and looking to the side. His hand cupped her cheek and he turned her face so that she was looking up at him.

“How I told her what?” He asked.

Averting her eyes once again, Narcissa bit her lip and with a smile, said, “That you love me, and that you wanted to ask Father for my hand after we had developed a proper relationship.”

Harry’s eyes bugged out in shock.

“But we don’t do relationships in pureblood circles, Harry,” Narcissa continued, ignorant of his reaction. “There are betrothals which are followed by a courtship which ends in a marriage. But Bella told me how you wanted to have a proper relationship with me first, because you cherished me so much. You have no idea how good it felt.”

Harry stared at her in surprise as she looked up at him.

“I really need to thank Bella for making me realize that I don’t have to submit to Malfoy just because Father asked me to. You love me, and I’ve been in love with you for so long as well. There is no way Father would choose Malfoy over you,” she beamed up at him.

The bright smile on her face was wiped out in an instant when Harry said softly, “I never said any of those things to Bellatrix.”

Narcissa’s eyes shot open in surprise and her hold on his shirt loosened.

“W-what?” She asked in a shocked whisper. “B-but Bella told me…”

Suddenly, realization washed over her. Her twin had lied to her. Just to make her believe and do something, she had lied to her about what Harry had said.

“She lied to me…” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Narcissa quickly pushed off Harry and turned around. However, before she could walk away, Harry quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her back. Surprised, Narcissa turned around and crashed against him. She looked up at him with widened eyes, her embarrassment shining through.

“She might’ve lied, but it doesn’t mean she was wrong,” Harry replied gently, and Narcissa’s breath hitched.

She stared at him for a long moment before she whispered, “Y-you mean?”

Harry nodded with a loving smile.

“I love you too,” he said softly as he hugged her to himself, placing his forehead against hers. “And you better believe I won’t let anyone take you away from me, least of all that blonde ponce.”

Narcissa pulled back and stared at him for a long moment before a brilliant smile lit up her face.

“This has all happened so weirdly, but I couldn’t care less,” he continued. “Forget what happened before or who said what. All I care about is how we feel about each other. You have no idea how…”

“Harry,” Narcissa said in exasperation as she looked up at him. “Shut up.”

Harry looked at her in surprise.

Narcissa rolled her eyes at his expression and flung her arms around his neck before she pressed her lips against his.

The monster inside Harry’s heart roared in triumph as they kissed. Her lips were the softest he had ever felt against his, and they moved against each other in perfect harmony. Nothing else mattered right now. The emotional discharge in his brain materialized in the form of a series of fireworks that made him forget everything around him.

His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her hot, soft body against his. Narcissa pulled firmly on his neck, wrapping her arms tighter around him, and pressed all of her against his front. The tip of his tongue probed her lips gently and Narcissa eagerly parted them wide, allowing him entry. His tongue immediately pushed past, sliding into her mouth, and in no time, their tongues were rolling around, caressing each other as his hands caressed her back over the thin Hogwarts shirt.

Finally, after what felt like hours, they pulled away and Harry looked down at her face flushed with happiness, a bright grin adorning her lovely full lips. They still had their arms wrapped around each other and Narcissa’s lovely body remained pressed up against his. Harry smiled back at her and relished the sight of her eyes as they lit up. He didn’t know if he had ever seen a more beautiful sight before.

For a few minutes, they said nothing, content in simply holding the other and staring into each other’s eyes. Her fingers were playing with the nape of his neck and stroking his short hair softly while his hands held her by the hips, stroking softly.

“That was…” Harry rasped, his voice gravelly.

“Merlin…” Narcissa whispered, looking up at him breathlessly. “I never knew it felt like this. If only we did this earlier, I wouldn’t have been beating myself up for so long.”

“Well,” Harry smirked as he tightened his hold around her hips and pulled her closer. “I won’t mind a repeat of that, or several.”

Narcissa giggled and let him kiss her once again. The blissful feeling was too good to turn down.

-Break-

It was almost an hour later when Narcissa came back to the Slytherin Common Room and let out a sigh of relief when she saw none of Malfoy or his band of thugs was present. She quickly climbed up the stairs to the dormitory she shared with only her twin.

Bella was lying on the bed, twirling her wand around as she made a few books dance around in the air. She was so engrossed in her little game that she didn’t even notice her twin enter the room or come closer.

The brunette cried out in surprise when she was pulled off the bed and onto her feet. She only saw a flash of blonde hair before she was engulfed in a fierce hug.

“You are the best sister anyone could ever ask for!” Narcissa cried out as she hugged her twin firmly.

“Can’t b-breathe…”

Narcissa loosened the hold and looked straight at her twin with a beaming smile on her face.

“You lied to me! You told me Harry said all those things to you, but he never did!”

Bellatrix looked at the blonde and smirked.

“Judging by your reaction, looks like my lie worked out better than I even expected,” she grinned. Narcissa beamed.

“You bet it did, you dolt!” She giggled. “Merlin, I never thought I’ll ever be so grateful to you for lying.”

“Well, you know what a great person once said: The lie that ends up doing some good ain’t a lie at all.”

“Which great person said that?” Narcissa asked curiously, still smiling.

“Bellatrix Black, just now,” the brunette replied. Narcissa snorted and hugged her twin again.

-Break-

“Padfoot, a word,” Harry said as he entered the Gryffindor Common Room and looked at the boy who was engrossed in a chess match with Wormtail. He gave the other boy a quick nod in greeting and grabbed the Black heir by the back of his shirt, dragging him with him.

“Hey! What’s the big deal!” Sirius shouted as he was dragged away, much to the amusement of all those watching.

Harry pulled him over to the couch beside the fireplace and quickly erected a privacy ward over them.

“What’s the easiest way to get in contact with your grandfather?” Harry asked.

“Huh? That’s what you dragged me here for?” Sirius asked in surprise. Harry nodded.

“What is it?”

“Well, there’s the owl, or you could floo over.”

“He’s away with your grandmother, you dunce,” Harry clicked his tongue in slight annoyance.

“Ah, right,” Sirius nodded. “Dunno, mate. Never needed to contact him like this.”

Harry sighed.

“What’s the matter anyway?” Sirius asked curiously. “What d’you need the old fart for?”

“Nothing much, just wanted to ask him for Narcissa’s hand,” Harry remarked casually. Sirius’ eyes bugged out in shock.

“Wait what?”

Harry nodded.

“We just talked. Apparently, her father won’t consider it because the Blacks only marry purebloods, and me being a half-blood is a bummer. So I thought why not talk to the big dog directly,” Harry replied. Sirius nodded mechanically.

“You almost blow a gasket in the morning, return all chipper in the classroom, and now you’re here talking about shagging my cousin for life. You sure are weird, mate,” Sirius remarked, earning a chuckle from Harry.

“What can I say? Things happen in mysterious ways. And enough of your crassness.”

“What? Marriage literally means shagging someone for life, doesn’t it?” Sirius asked in return, earning a small shake of the head from Harry.

“Whatever. Just think of something quickly. I want to get this over with before Narcissa has to tolerate more of that ponce’s idiotic self,” Harry sneered. “Merlin knows how badly I want to just dump that moron in a ditch somewhere.”

“So that’s why…” Sirius trailed off in understanding.

“Yeah…” Harry muttered before his eyes fell on a certain dark-haired individual who had just come in and he was struck with a sudden realization. “Aunt Dorea!”

Sirius jumped at the shout.

“Mate! Chill the fuck out! What’re you shoutin’ ‘bout?”

Harry looked at Sirius and shook his head.

“Nothing. I’m done with ya. Go on with your chess match,” he said and stood up before walking over to James. Sirius shook his head in exasperation and walked back over to where Peter was sitting on his own.

“Well… good for them if it works out,” he muttered to himself as he sat down. Inadvertently, his eyes fell on a certain blonde witch who came down the stairs clad in her casual clothing. Her eyes wandered around the Common Room before she looked at him. Sirius immediately averted his eyes.

Marlene looked at Sirius and she was sure he had been staring at her. She didn’t know what that idiot’s problem was. It was so obvious that he had hots for her, and yet, he didn’t say anything. She had been paying attention to the grapevine, and he had been completely clean this year so far.

She had also realized that he genuinely cared for her, otherwise, he would not make an effort to warn her about Snape time and again. She had not taken his warnings seriously but luckily nothing happened. Instead, she got to know what kind of person Snape truly was.

That brought her thoughts back to Lily. Their friendship had become slightly strained in the past few days since Lily flat-out declined to believe her about Snape. They were not on bad terms or anything as such, but it felt as if there was a barrier between them now. She only wished Lily didn’t get too hurt when Snape’s true face was revealed to her.

Her eyes fell on James Potter, and she remembered what he had said to Lily. She had not been present to witness it, but Alice had told her about it. She initially couldn’t believe the boy had just come out and said it, before openly cutting ties with her friend in front of everyone. She felt it was in slightly bad taste, but considering the animosity between Snape and Potter and how exasperated she had felt herself with Lily back then, she could somewhat understand why he had acted like that.

She had not missed the looks Lily had unknowingly started giving the Potter heir, and she was sure a few others had also noticed. However, Potter seemed to be pointedly ignoring Lily. She had heard from Alice who had heard from Frank who had heard from the boys’ group that James was ready to try and date other girls and fully get over his little infatuation with Lily. She didn’t know how to feel about it.

James Potter was an irritating and arrogant bloke, but he was by no means a bad person. If she had to choose between him and Snape, it was not even a choice. But she was not the one making a choice, and now, it seemed her friend didn’t have the option of Potter to choose either.

She just hoped that in her ignorance, Lily had not let go of something truly special she could have possibly had with James Potter.

Once again, she looked at Sirius Black and she couldn’t help but sigh softly. She hoped the dolt made his mind up quickly, or someone helped him do it. There was a certain someone in his group who looked like he might help out, and she wished he talked some sense into him, and soon.

Because she couldn’t keep waiting forever for Black to make up his mind.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

"Come, Cygnus. I'm glad you accepted my invitation," Dorea Potter smiled, gesturing for him to take a seat.

Cygnus Black bowed respectfully and sat down on the couch. It was not the first time he had been to Potter Manor but the sight still seemed foreign, particularly considering how contrasting it was to both the Black Townhouse and his cottage by the bank of Tyne.

He had been afforded the luxury of being hosted in the family wing of the manor, which, although something he had expected, still flattered him. The room was much less formal than the public one, and he saw various family photos hung up on the walls.

His aunt Dorea had had trouble conceiving. Everyone knew how ecstatic she had been when James was finally born, and the joy was apparent on her face in the photo he was watching.

"He is my pride and joy," Dorea commented, noticing Cygnus staring at the first photo of hers with her son.

"Children always are," Cygnus replied. Dorea did not fail to notice the hint of bitterness in his voice. She sighed as she recalled the entire affair with Andromeda.

"How are things, Cygnus?" She asked casually as she poured some tea for him.

"It's all good, Aunt Dorea. The girls are back at Hogwarts which leaves only me and Druella at home most of the time."

"And your work? I heard you sold the store?"

Cygnus grimaced slightly.

"The market has saturated. It made sense to cut costs."

Dorea sighed.

"You know Arcturus would help if you asked, right?"

Cygnus chose not to reply. No matter how justified Lord Black might have been in casting Andromeda out of the family or banishing them up north, there was a rift between them that he could only hope to bridge.

"Look, Cygnus. I did not invite you here to insult you or anything. But you are a Black, and no matter what happened, you are family. Both Arcturus and I care about you, Druella, and the girls. And yes, I mean all three of them."

Cygnus looked at Dorea with a conflicted face.

"Andromeda visited a few days ago. She is expecting," Dorea smiled.

Cygnus stared at her in surprise.

"I know the philosophy of the Blacks. Traditionalists to the core, and staunch believers of blood purity. Not fanatical like a few but not very accepting either. However, don't you think your daughter deserves at least a word from her father now?"

Cygnus remained silent.

"She is hurting, Cygnus. She does not show it, but she wants her parents and her sisters back in her life."

"It is not my place to make that decision, Aunt Dorea," Cygnus replied with a sad smile. "Lord Black's instructions are absolute."

"Arcturus doesn't have to know," Dorea tried in a soothing voice. "If you are not comfortable with sending a letter, then I can arrange for you to meet her here. You have my word no one will ever know."

Cygnus looked conflicted. It had hurt how the whole affair with Andi had concluded, and he had felt a part of him being torn off when she had been banished, never to contact a member of the House of Black ever again. Several times his wife and his youngest daughters had asked to contact her. However, he had declined their wishes time and again. It hurt, but he was in no position to agitate Lord Black any further.

"Think upon it, Cygnus. No one is going anywhere."

Cygnus settled on giving a nod.

"Now, the main reason I asked you to meet concerns your other daughter. It has come to my attention that you have agreed personal terms with one Abraxas Malfoy for Narcissa to marry his heir?"

Surprised, Cygnus nodded.

"How do you know about this?"

"How I know doesn't matter. What matters is why Abraxas is doing this."

Confused, Cygnus asked, "What do you mean?"

"Think, Cygnus," Dorea sighed. "Narcissa is the daughter of a cadet line of House Black, one which has poor standing in the family. This is known to every household in pureblood circles. Why then, is Abraxas Malfoy agreeing to marry his heir to Narcissa when he could easily go for the heiresses of other pureblood houses such as the Parkinsons, the Selwyns, the Fawleys, or the Carrows? All those houses have heiresses, and all are the same age."

"Abraxas and I talked, and he gave me a very simple reason."

"That is?" Dorea asked inquisitively.

"That his son has become rather taken with Narcissa, and although our situation in the family is not very good, she is still a Black and a worthy woman to one day become the Lady of House Malfoy," Cygnus replied.

"I see," Dorea mused. "And what about her career? I remember she wanted to be an enchantress. What would become of it?"

Cygnus grimaced slightly.

"You know how these things work, Aunt Dorea. A passing fancy like that will fizzle in no time. And once she settles into the role of the lady of a prominent pureblood house, that avenue will close on its own."

Dorea frowned.

"And did you ask for Narcissa's opinion?"

"She did respond when I informed her about it. She is a good girl. She assured me she would behave as her station requires of her."

Dorea stared at her nephew for a long moment before she sighed.

"You sure are a thick one, Cygnus. Tell me something. Did it ever occur to you that your daughter might have agreed because she doesn't want to create more problems for you?"

Cygnus looked down.

"You know what kind of girl she is, Cygnus. Ever since she was little, she thought of her sisters before herself. I can wager everything I own that she does not want anything to do with Malfoy and is only agreeing to it because you have asked her to and she knows what would happen if she went against it."

"Malfoy is the best match I could have arranged for her," Cygnus tried.

"Man up, boy!" Dorea chided. "You are a son of the Blacks. Act like it. Who told you you couldn't arrange a better match for Narcissa?"

"You are talking about Peverell," Cygnus replied with a sigh. "I agree. He would be a much better match than anyone I could possibly find. I even received the young man's owl last afternoon. But you know how it goes, Aunt Dorea. Peverell is a half-blood. As you said, we are the Blacks, and only pureblood marriages are acceptable."

"Not even if your daughter loves the young man?" She asked gently. Cygnus' eyes widened.

"What?"

"Harry told me about it. How he wanted to have a proper relationship with your daughter before going for a betrothal. Since he contacted you, you better believe they have already expressed their intentions to each other."

"Narcissa…"

"That girl is the last to blame in all this, Cygnus," Dorea said sternly. "Don't forget how she was ready to sacrifice her happiness just for your sake."

Cygnus looked down.

"Has Andromeda's situation taught you nothing, Cygnus? How much will this family keep sacrificing in the name of blood purity?"

Dorea truly pitied the man. He had become a shell of his former self ever since the Andromeda incident. It was as if he had lost his sense of self-worth and was only there to cater to the whims of those he considered more powerful than him.

"You know what kind of a person Malfoy is," Dorea warned. "He is a poisonous snake in every sense of the word, and you better believe he has ulterior motives. After all, it's not a secret that Sirius loathes the prospect of being the heir and Regulus is but a child who can be easily taken out of the equation. In that event, your side of the family would be first in the line of inheritance since I am the youngest sister among us."

Cygnus' eyes widened as he thought about it. He'd never had any greed for power. He had been content with being a son of the House of Black. But the more he thought about what his aunt had just said, the more it made sense, particularly when he considered it was Abraxas Malfoy she was talking about.

Not to mention the fact that Lestrange had also broached the topic of marrying Bellatrix to his heir Rudolphus.

Both men were close, and a pit started to form in his stomach as he thought about it all. The signs were there, glaring at him.

Dorea stared at her nephew who seemed to be thinking furiously and she was finally thankful that she had managed to get through to him.

The moment she had come to know that Malfoy was trying to get Narcissa's hand for his son, she knew what was afoot. After all, she had already heard from Bellatrix during their last get-together how Rudolphus Lestrange had started showing a certain degree of interest in her, and how proud she was that she had managed to keep him away.

There was no way she was going to let those vultures get their rotten hands on her two grandnieces as well as the House of Black. Those girls would marry for love and with the blessings of their family, and she was determined to ensure it happened.

"Tell me, Cygnus. If Harry was a pureblood, would you have chosen him over Malfoy?"

"Without a doubt," Cygnus replied in an instant. There was no comparison at all.

Dorea nodded with a smile.

"I hope you'd think about what I've said before approaching Arcturus, Cygnus. And in case you are worried about Harry being a half-blood, I want you to know that I will personally have a talk with my brother about it. You will have my support if you choose Harry for Narcissa."

Cygnus looked surprised and Dorea chuckled.

"I've come to care for that boy as if he were my own blood, Cygnus. I have no clue why I feel that way, but it feels as if something connects us. Perhaps it's that string of fate that Mother used to talk about. And I care for our family as well. Not so much for Walburga, but you get what I mean," she chuckled. "I'll ensure they are happy, Cygnus, and take it from someone who married for love – Narcissa will be the happiest with Harry, not anyone else."

It was a few minutes later when a thoughtful Cygnus Black left Potter Manor and Dorea Potter chuckled.

"Well, looks like I'll soon be cashing in those favors my brother owes me. You better be grateful to your Aunt Dorea, Harry."

-Break-

Harry put down the letter from his aunt and smiled to himself. He had indeed approached the right person for this task. Truth be told, he had gotten the idea from the very man who had sent him to this new timeline.

Arcturus Black, for all his flaws, loved his sister dearly. If anyone could get through to him, it was Dorea Potter.

When he had told her everything, he had expected her to somehow contact Arcturus and tell him about it. He was not expecting a quick resolution considering the Blacks' policy of only marrying purebloods, and he expected there to be a confrontation with the man. With Dorea on his side, he thought she'd be doing the convincing, and it could still be the case.

However, she had gone a step further and knocked some sense into Cygnus Black. That was something he had not expected, no matter how welcome the development was.

According to the woman, Cygnus was happy with the prospect of him marrying Narcissa, which was something he already knew from the letter he had received from the man. Cygnus had explicitly told him that there was only one reason why he could not go forward with his proposal – his blood status.

The Blacks did not marry someone who was not a pureblood. Period.

However, with Dorea's involvement in the affair, Harry was fairly confident that it would change. He knew how much Arcturus valued her, and he had full faith in her ability to convince the man.

Now, he only had to wait until Dorea discussed it with Arcturus. Until then, Narcissa had no choice but to tolerate Malfoy's company.

'At least the ponce won't be able to touch her,' Harry thought in satisfaction.

He was currently sitting at the Gryffindor table for breakfast with all his friends sitting around him.

"What're you smirking for?" Frank asked curiously.

Harry looked at the boy and shook his head.

"Nothing. Just having a good day so far."

"The day's only begun," the Longbottom heir deadpanned.

"Doesn't mean it's not a bright one," Harry replied before his eyes fell on a certain blonde beauty who walked through the double doors of the Great Hall with her twin. "And somehow it gets even brighter."

His friends looked over where he was staring and they smirked.

"Any recent developments we should know about?" Fabian asked with a smirk.

Harry didn't bother to reply and simply gestured forward with his finger. They turned toward the Slytherin table and saw Narcissa take a seat with Bellatrix alongside the ponce's crowd. The blonde moron in question was staring at his plate with an ashen look on his face.

"That development should be enough for you all," Harry replied.

"Lucy's doesn't look too happy," Sirius snorted. "Merlin, he looks like he shat his pants and wants to punish his house elf for not cleaning it properly."

"We're trying to eat here, you dumbass," Gideon slapped the dark-haired boy on the back of his head. Sirius looked barely apologetic as he smirked at Harry.

"You sure work quick, mate. Not even a day and you've twisted his knickers. What'd you do?"

Harry smirked.

"Nothing much," he replied, returning Bellatrix's wink with one of his own.

He had to admit that in such a short time – only a day even – she had grown on him. He still remembered her words from the previous morning and how she had acted, and it was apparent to him what her intentions were.

However, given how she had played such a pivotal role in bringing him and Narcissa closer than ever before, he could easily deduce that she did not want to take him away from her sister.

But it was also obvious that she wanted him. Hell, she had outright admitted as much to his face.

There was only one scenario in which something was possible like that, and Harry chuckled every time he thought about it. It was something he was not going to ponder upon.

"But seriously mate, what's the deal with you two? And why's she sitting with Malfoy of all people?" Frank asked curiously.

"I won't go into specifics. Just know that it's only temporary."

"You and your non-answers," the boy shook his head in defeat and went back to his breakfast.

-Break-

Lucius Malfoy sat at the Slytherin table with his usual group. The lads were engrossed in their usual discussion but he paid little attention to all of it.

His mind was instead occupied with what happened early this morning.

Lucius was walking through the main corridor of the dungeons. The plan was coming along nicely. House Malfoy had almost secured the hand of the eldest daughter of the House of Black. Only the official signing of the marriage contract remained; one which was only a matter of time.

House business aside, there was another reason he had pushed for Narcissa Black as the Lady of House Malfoy. That reason had only one motivation – lust.

The woman was one of the most beautiful Wizarding Britain had to offer, and there had been numerous times he had jerked off to the thoughts of what he would do to her once he got the chance.

The mere thought of the temptress sent his blood flowing south and that was the only reason why he had left the Slytherin common room before everyone else. A nice, cold walk first thing in the morning to soothe himself.

It was when he was walking outside the courtyard that he saw him.

Harry Peverell.

He could not believe how much he loathed the man. He didn't even know this person not too long ago and now here he was. The sight of him coupled with the infuriating smirk on his face was enough to make him grit his teeth.

He had been willing to make an ally of the man. His father had asked him to try and see if he could convert him to the right side. Alas, it seemed that avenue was permanently closed now. It was quite clear from the very beginning where his allegiance truly lay.

Even then, he wouldn't have hated the man so much, but he had to try to lay his hand on something that belonged to him. That was something he could never forgive.

The look of abject disappointment on the cunt's face, when Narcissa sat with him the previous morning and didn't even deign him with a glance, had made him silently roar in triumph.

He had expected the man to be moping about in defeat, but it seemed Peverell had a thicker skin than he had given him credit for.

"Well, a fine morning this is, right?"

Lucius didn't reply. The overly chipper demeanor of the young man standing in front of him was rather unsettling.

"Out on a morning run, Malfoy? Can't say I blame you. The wind feels nice at this time of the morning."

Lucius was getting more unnerved as he stayed and he was about to turn around to walk away when Peverell's voice stopped him.

"I heard about your upcoming nuptials. I guess congratulations are in order."

This time, Lucius allowed a ghost of a smirk to cross his face. Looking at Peverell, he replied, "I won't ask how you know about it, but thank you."

"I didn't congratulate you though," Harry chuckled. "I guessed that congratulations were in order. I might be wrong too. Pay attention, Lucius."

The smirk on his face broadened a bit as Lucius stared at Peverell.

"Bitterness, Peverell?" He asked. "Well, I shouldn't be surprised you seem so bitter about it, considering you had your sights on Narcissa yourself."

"That I do, Lucius. That I do," Harry replied with an easy smile.

Lucius pursed his lips and sighed.

"You did, Peverell. Not anymore. It is considered undesirable to have your sights on women who are spoken for. Didn't your mother teach you as much?"

Harry did not let the comment faze him as he continued smirking.

"Spoken for? Isn't that quite presumptuous of you, Lucius?" Harry chuckled, to his slight ire. "You shouldn't take me for some amateur like yourself or your band of buffoons. My intel tells me nothing is official yet."

"And? You're hoping to do what exactly?"

"Hoping?" Harry rolled his eyes. "I don't hope. I just do it. And I find it amusing that you think you've won this race… considering you were never in the running."

Lucius looked at the man with furrowed brows. Harry smirked.

"Tell me, Lucius. What does Narcissa feel for you? Adoration? Love even? Or does she loathe your very existence?"

"The hell are you talking about, Peverell?" Lucius gritted his teeth, not liking where the conversation was going.

"Nothing, just looking to see how delusional you are. I guess you are ignorant instead. Let me clear that doubt for you. Before I do that though, did you notice something peculiar about your interactions with Narcissa? A certain inability of yours when it comes to touching her perhaps?"

Lucius' eyes widened at Peverell's smirk and he snarled, "So it was you!"

"Partly, yeah," Harry laughed. "Merlin you've no idea how good it felt to see your sorry face after I got to know you were shocked like that."

"What did you do, you asshole!?"

"Me? I did nothing but help the woman I love to keep an unwanted leech away from her," Harry replied, his eyes hardening somewhat. Lucius' eyes widened.

"You dare!"

"Keep your wand in your pants, Lucius. You won't like the result," Harry warned with a chilling smile. Lucius grimaced as he recalled the memory of their previous encounter.

Harry smirked as the blonde put his wand away.

"Good boy," he praised patronizingly. "Now, you can thank Bellatrix for that, and Narcissa too. After all, both contributed to this."

Lucius listened, seething.

"It's a nifty little ritual devised by an ancestor of the Blacks to keep the paws of a certain cretin off his wife. Say what you may about those bastards but they sure are resourceful as fuck," Harry chuckled. "I digress however. See, I did that ritual with your hair and hers, and as you know already by experience, it worked splendidly. You can't even put your filthy hands on her now."

"You are a dead man, Peverell," Lucius seethed. "You dare interfere in the matters between two pureblood houses!"

"No interference, I promise," Harry replied innocently. "It was all according to Cissa's wishes."

Lucius' eyes widened at the way he called Narcissa's name.

"See, the ritual would work only if certain conditions are satisfied. First, the person doing the ritual must love the person he is protecting. Second, the woman must not want the other man to be touching her. And third, the woman must loathe the other man with every fiber of her being. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why you were affected."

Lucius' eyes widened even more.

"I'll surmise it for you anyway so that your inbred little brain can remember it. Narcissa and I love each other and she loathes your entire existence. Congrats. You truly hit a jackpot there."

Lucius simply stood there, gritting his teeth in rage.

"And guess what? The ritual shall remain in effect as long as she continues to loathe you. You better believe that means your whole life. Even if by some fluke of a chance you manage to bag her, which you better believe won't be happening, you won't be able to touch her."

There was a long moment of silence as Lucius stared, disbelieving everything he had heard. He recalled his interactions with Narcissa Black and a wave of fury shot through him.

"How did… how did you get my hair?" He asked, seething.

"I'll have to thank Bellatrix for that. She was the one who told me about the ritual and gave me both your hairs too. Say what you want about the woman but she loves her sister," Harry smirked.

"That fucking bitch…"

Suddenly, he recoiled as a wave of soapy water struck him right on the mouth. Furious, he looked over to see Peverell standing casually, holding his wand by his side.

"That was for swearing. Go on, wash your potty mouth properly."

"Peverell I'll kill you!" Lucius shouted as he reached for his wand, but before he could even move, Harry had him frozen in place.

Like a hunter stalking his prey, Harry walked toward Lucius Malfoy with a menacing grin etched on his face.

The Malfoy heir's eyes rolled around in their sockets as they followed his movement around him.

Harry came to a pause right in front of Malfoy and smirked.

"You can't do anything, Malfoy. You might think you have power, but it's all worthless. You never had Narcissa, and you better believe you never will. You can't touch the hair on her head, let alone do anything to her. She despises you, and she loves me. Always keep that in mind from now on whenever you look at her."

Sneering, Harry released the hold he had on the blonde and made him stagger a few steps. Malfoy barely managed to keep himself upright.

"I was okay with letting you go on as you wished, Malfoy. But you had this idea of bothering a sleeping dragon. Shame you never paid much attention to the Hogwarts motto," Harry smirked.

Lucius kept glaring.

"You should've known that there would be consequences for your actions. I let you and your cronies off with a warning last time, and yet you dared to go to your bootlicker of a father to get you the woman I love. Now that… is unforgivable. You said you would kill me? Boy, you have no idea what I've been through. You're not even an insect in comparison to what I've faced," Harry finished with a sneer.

"You talk too much, Peverell," Lucius snarled. "It's only a matter of time before everything is finalized, and once it is, you better believe I'd break that bitch. I'll make sure she forgets even your name."

"You are free to try," Harry smirked, barely keeping his rage under control. "You give her too little credit. Just because she has not shown it yet doesn't mean she lacks the poisonous fangs of a serpent, Malfoy. I won't even need to do anything. She will take care of a pest like you on her own."

Lucius did nothing but scoff as he turned around to walk away.

"And Malfoy," Harry called out, prompting Lucius to pause mid-stride. "I'll be careful if I were you. Bellatrix doesn't like you, and I believe you know how sadistic she can be."

Gritting his teeth, Lucius Malfoy stalked off, leaving a livid Harry Potter staring at his retreating figure in silence.

He glanced at the blonde sitting beside him and he saw her talking to that maniacal sister of his. Truth be told, he was indeed scared of Bellatrix. There was something about her that always gave him the chills, and he had heard several others admit the same. No one could pinpoint what exactly it was, but there was something off about the dark-haired woman.

As if feeling his eyes on her, Bellatrix glanced at him and smirked. Lucius quickly averted his eyes.

He knew he could not touch Narcissa, and Bellatrix wouldn't let anything happen to her sister either. Furthermore, Narcissa was a very capable witch in her own right – easily her twin's equal but without the unhinged tendencies. He knew she could hold her own in a fight.

Sighing he looked at his barely-eaten plate and frowned. Just what was he thinking? Narcissa was to be his wife and the lady of his house. No matter how confident Peverell had been during their encounter, there was no way he could hijack the betrothal. The Blacks had a strict policy of pureblood marriages and he knew they would never agree to one of their own marrying a half-blood.

He also knew that after their idiot eldest daughter eloped with the mudblood, there was no way Narcissa would follow in her footsteps. He could imagine Bellatrix going ahead with the madness, but Narcissa was too prim, proper, and obedient to resort to something like that. There was a reason why she was adhering to her father's words and sitting with him.

However, the thought of the woman being with him only because she felt it was her duty and that it compelled her to do something she loathed also did not sit right with him. He wanted her to be his, to claim her, to own her. There was no way he could do anything like that if she harbored so much hatred for him.

If Peverell was to be believed, Narcissa loathed him. However, he had never felt any vibes from her that pointed to that. Instead, she had always been courteous. For the first time, he wondered just how good she was at putting on an act.

A part of him wanted to deny everything Peverell had said. That Narcissa did not despise him, and that Narcissa did not love him. But something told him that Peverell had not uttered even one lie during their encounter.

If that was true, then he had to do something. There was no way he could live with this ritual hanging over his head. If it remained in effect, then even if he married the woman, it would be worth it only to his father. Not to him. He wanted her for different reasons, but if he could not even touch her, then the arrangement was nothing but a resounding failure for him.

There must be something that could salvage the situation. There had to be. He refused to believe he had lost before it had even begun.

He glanced at Narcissa once again, only to find her smiling while staring into the distance. He looked over where she was staring at and another wave of rage coursed through him.

Peverell gave her a smile from the opposite table before his eyes fell on him. Lucius felt as if someone poured a bucket of ice-cold water over him as he looked into those chilling eyes that seemed to freeze his very soul. His hands shook with fear and rage and he almost made the mistake of grabbing the blonde sitting beside him. He stopped himself almost too late and looked down at his plate.

From his spot at the Gryffindor table, Harry Potter smirked at the way Lucius Malfoy was acting. He had stunned the blonde ponce. He knew the asshole had never seen it coming.

But it was nothing. Malfoy's bad days had only just begun.

In his original timeline, Harry hated both Draco and Lucius. Things had not changed in this new timeline at all. He still loathed Lucius. For obvious reasons, Draco was not in the picture, and he would never be.

He took his eyes off Lucius Malfoy and resumed his staring contest with Narcissa who was all too happy to continue. It was oddly cathartic to be able to do something as innocuous as this in the view of everyone and he knew just like him, she was enjoying it a lot.

Their staring contest, however, was suddenly interrupted when an owl landed in front of Narcissa. The blonde beauty blinked and gingerly took the letter from the owl. The moment its package was delivered, the owl flew away.

Harry wondered who the letter was from. The owl looked like one owned by rich pureblood households and he had a hunch as to who it might be.

He just hoped his hunch proved true.

On the Slytherin table, Narcissa stared at the familiar owl in surprise and took the letter from it. The owl flew away without a second thought and for a few seconds, she stared at the calligraphy on the envelope.

"Who is that from?"

The voice of the man sitting beside her made her grimace slightly. This was the time she dreaded the most – spending it with the ponce of all people. Not to mention his wretched friends who were nothing short of disgusting.

Earlier, she might have given in to decorum and replied courteously, but after what happened the night before between Harry and her, she was in no more mood to entertain him.

Lucius was surprised when Narcissa blatantly ignored him and stuffed the letter inside the pocket of her school robe. He watched, his rage growing slightly, as the woman stood up with her twin in tow, who had the gall to smirk at him. They walked away without a backward glance.

There was only one thought running about in Lucius' mind at that moment.

'Just what the fuck happened?'

His musing was cut off when a ball of parchment suddenly hit him square in the face. He looked up and glared at the only person who had the gall to do that. The asshole simply raised an expectant eyebrow before gesturing toward the piece of parchment that had fallen on his plate.

He noticed his associates watching him with frowns but he gave them no heed. He picked up the ball of parchment and opened it. The words made him seethe.

"You were never in the running, asshole. And you'll never be. She's mine. Just give up and save me some effort. You'll save yourself from a humiliation too."

Seething, Lucius crushed the ball and pulled out his wand, lighting it up in flame. He watched the ashes fall all over his plate before glaring at Peverell. He gritted his teeth when the bastard winked.

'I'll kill that asshole, even if it's the last thing I ever do,' he thought to himself with a malicious snarl as he got up and walked away, leaving his associates to rush after him.

On the Gryffindor table, Harry smirked as his friends grinned.

"You surely did a number on him, mate," Sirius remarked in wonder.

"But what exactly did you say to him that riled him up so much?"

Harry chuckled.

"Nothing. Just gave him a little taste of reality."

TBC.

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Chapter Text

"Someone's in a good mood," Harry teased as he pulled away from an ecstatic Narcissa who had wasted no time when he arrived in their shared practice room and pounced on him. He held her close, relishing the sense of intimacy as he stared into her ash-gray orbs that seemed to sparkle in excitement.

Narcissa's response was to pull out a folded piece of parchment from the pocket of her school skirt and push it against his chest.

"Read it," she said brightly. Harry smiled and took the parchment from her hand. The smile on his face grew as he read it. Narcissa watched him, grinning, and she hummed happily when he planted his lips on hers once again.

Her arms came around his neck and she stood on her tiptoes, pushing herself against him. Their lips caressed each other lovingly as Harry held her by the waist, keeping her body flush against his.

With a deep breath, they pulled apart, eyes closed and foreheads resting together.

"I can't believe it worked out so soon!" She breathed, her relief obvious.

"I told you I won't let you spend any more time in that ponce's company than absolutely necessary, didn't I?" He asked rhetorically.

Narcissa hummed delightfully and pulled back. They gazed at each other fondly and Harry took her hand, leading her over to the desk in the middle of the abandoned classroom. They climbed on the desk, sitting side by side, and the blonde swung her legs about as she turned to glance at him through her eyelashes.

"You never told me what exactly you did though," she asked, curious. Harry smirked.

"It helps to have quality contacts in the right places," he replied. His non-answer did not seem to please her so she poked him in the ribs. Harry chuckled and grabbed her hand.

"Hey! No need to get so violent!"

"Don't do anything to deserve it then," she retorted primly. Harry grinned.

"Alright, I'll tell you."

Narcissa listened to Harry as he told her about the letter he had written to Great-aunt Dorea, expecting her to arrange a meeting between him and her grandfather, only for her to go a step further and have a serious talk with her father as well. She knew it would be a few months before her grandfather came back to Britain and she had in some ways resigned herself to having to put up with Malfoy and his unpleasant company for the foreseeable future.

Instead, her great-aunt had decided to save her from the unpleasantness by talking to her father the very next day, and she had received his letter this morning. The words were still crystal clear in her mind.

Dear daughter,

After an insightful discussion with Aunt Dorea, I have decided to put a hold on the ongoing marriage discussions with the House of Malfoy.

As such, you have my permission to abstain from abiding by the instructions contained in my previous letter.

It has also come to my attention that you might have proceeded to ally with another old wizarding house. If it is true, I want you to know that I have no qualms about you moving ahead with that endeavor.

I have faith that you will conduct yourself befitting your position as the daughter of the Ancient and Noble House of Black and will not do anything that might bring you or our family any dishonor.

I will meet you in a private room at The Three Broomsticks tomorrow during your next Hogsmeade visit for a more personal discussion.

Blessings,

Father

This letter was considerably warmer than the previous one, and Narcissa could also detect her father's familiarity in his words which was noticeably absent in the other letter. This one felt more like it was from a father to his daughter rather than from a patriarch to his charge.

Narcissa's smile had not left her face since she had read the letter, and it had taken her a considerable amount of effort to refrain from just shoving decorum to the side and snogging Harry senselessly right there in the Great Hall where hundreds of eyes could see them.

Although common sense prevailed, it did not stop her from asking Harry to meet her at their usual spot right after breakfast where she had spent a fair bit of time to show him her appreciation. It was fortunate that they did not have any classes and could spend as much time together as they wanted.

Harry smiled at the blonde who had snuggled up to him, resting her head on his shoulder as she caressed his chest softly. It was cliché. He knew it. Falling for someone at first sight was something he had always thought did not exist, but it had happened to him. Admittedly it evolved from mutual attraction, which, he assumed, must be how these things always started. The spark between them had existed from the very first moment they had laid eyes on each other, and it seemed to intensify with time.

He had not expected to find love when he agreed to make a time jump. Having lost everything he had to live in the previous timeline, he had assumed that he would simply carry out the duty he had been entrusted with. However, life showed yet again that nothing was predictable. Now he had people he loved and who loved him, and he would be damned if he didn't protect him to the best of his abilities.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" Her gentle voice made him glance at her. She was staring up at him with curious eyes and Harry could not help but lean down to peck her lips.

"Nothing much, just wondering about what's to come," he replied.

Narcissa smiled.

"Don't worry. As long as our feelings are strong, we can face anything. You better make sure you keep up, got it?" She poked his chest firmly, a strict look in her eyes.

And there was the Narcissa he had known before this entire debacle. Optimistic, cheeky, and oh-so adorable. Harry chuckled and settled on a nod.

"As the lady demands," he teased. She gave him a mock glare before cuddling up to him once again.

"Have you thought about how you will approach Grandfather?" She asked after a few moments of silence.

Harry could not help but grimace slightly. Indeed he had thought about it, and he knew it was not going to be easy. What he had achieved so far was only temporary. If Arcturus Black did not agree, he was sure things would go back to square one, even though it might not be Malfoy.

There was always the chance of Narcissa doing an Andromeda and choosing him over her family, but Harry did not want that for her. No matter how much he wanted to be with Narcissa, he knew it would break something inside her, and he would rather not have her than do that to her.

He had to ensure Arcturus would acquiesce and to ensure that, he did indeed have a plan. However, it was risky.

The current Arcturus Black was different from the one he had known in the future. That man had weathered the loss of his family and was an old, broken soul, no matter how strong a front he portrayed. On the contrary, the Arcturus Black of this timeline was a strict man with staunch beliefs. Even though he had never held a discriminatory bone in his body, it did not mean he did not hold to the old beliefs. Tradition and the purity of blood were the essence of being a Black, and no one embodied it more than Arcturus Black. A cordial relationship with a half-blood was one thing, but agreeing to let his granddaughter marry a half-blood was something else entirely.

He had faith in Dorea, and he had faith in his plan. However, the possibility that it all might not be enough weighed in his mind more than he cared to admit.

Looking down at Narcissa who was staring at him with a concerned frown, he smiled and kissed her again.

"Go with me to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" He asked as he pulled away.

Narcissa looked up at him in surprise for a moment before her face lit up with a wide smile. With a nod, she kissed him again.

Harry wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. He would cross that bridge when the time came for it. For now, he was happy to enjoy this moment of tranquility with the woman he had fallen so hard for.

-Break-

Abraxas Malfoy sat alone in his study. His hands were clasped in front of him as he rested his arm on the desk, leaning heavily against it. His eyes never left the yellowed parchment that sat on his desk, taunting him with the words it carried.

It had been going smoothly. Their movement was gradually gaining momentum and his lord had successfully subjugated several prominent pureblood houses like Avery, Lestrange, Macnair, Nott, and Yaxley.

It was a testament to his lord's charisma and the nobility of their cause that the staunchest supporters of blood supremacy had seen reason and agreed to support their cause that had the power to change the world as they knew it.

However, having so much influence came with its set of challenges, particularly for his followers.

With so many powerful pureblood houses now supporting their cause, it made standing out among the masses that much more challenging. House Malfoy had been one of the first to declare its support, but it was now just another name in the long list of pureblood houses that had pledged their support to his lord.

Abraxas could not have it remain that way.

They were the Malfoys – the greatest of the lot. It fell on him to show his lord why he and his house deserved to stand head and shoulders above the rest.

For months, Abraxas had pondered upon various ideas that would enable him to establish himself within his lord's circle – as a person worth noticing, to be treated differently. His ambition called for nothing less.

Ideas had been concocted and discarded, and it was only when that blood-traitor daughter of the Blacks had absconded the house that he started pondering upon this idea of marrying his heir into the family.

The Blacks were regarded as the proudest of the pureblood houses, and they were one of the most prominent members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight alongside the Potters, whom they shared blood relations with. Having that house on their side would undoubtedly bring a significant amount of power and clout to their cause, and if he was the one to ensure it happened, then he knew he would be seen differently.

It did not matter that one of their daughters had turned a traitor and betrayed her family. It did not matter that the girl he was interested in for his heir belonged to a cadet branch of the house. The Blacks were the Blacks. The same blood flowed through their veins, and few revered the purity of blood as much as the Blacks.

If it happened to somehow bring the Potters into the fold as well, then it was most fortunate.

He was about to proceed with the proposal when it came to his attention that Corvus Lestrange had somehow got the same idea. He was newly assimilated in their movement but it did not make him any less scheming or ambitious. The man wanted to make a strong impression early on.

However, instead of Narcissa, Corvus Lestrange was plotting to move for both the daughters. Rudolphus for Bellatrix and Rabastan for Narcissa.

Abraxas had to give it to Corvus. He was one reaching snake. It would have been easy to feud over this affair. However, he also knew how to best go about these things. They were both doing this for the benefit of their respective houses and their cause was the same. It was foolish to have discord amongst allies.

As such, he had arranged a meeting with Corvus Lestrange this past summer to come to an understanding. Lestrange was not an idiot, and he had seen reason in his argument. As a result, they had agreed on the terms – Narcissa for Lucius and Bellatrix for Rudolphus, with the entire Black estate divided equally once the house fell after their lord's victory.

It was an open secret in the pureblood circle that Sirius Black had no interest in taking up the lordship, which left only young Regulus Black as the one in line. A child – one who could be taken care of easily.

Once their heirs married the daughters who would be the only remaining descendants, they would have absolute control over the family assets. Losing half of the possible inheritance was a very bitter potion to swallow, but he acquiesced. It was not as if his house was lacking in galleons or assets, but half of the Black estate was still a massive amount. They were regarded as one of the richest houses in the entirety of Magical Europe for a reason, after all.

Abraxas was also happy with the arrangement because his house would be getting the saner twin and not the maniacal one. He had heard about Bellatrix from Lucius, who, much to his combined shame and ire, was undoubtedly scared of the girl. He had almost lashed out at his heir when he had first heard him talk about the girl in that apprehensive tone of his. To think that their heir of House Malfoy would be fearful of a witless girl like that…

But when he was told that all the boys in Slytherin steered clear of the girl, it made him pause. There might have been something off with the girl, and if it was true, then it was in his best interest to pursue the hand of the other twin for his son.

When Corvus told him that he would prefer Bellatrix for Rudolphus, it took all he had to not dance around in joy. Lestrange could keep the madwoman. He was happy with a pureblood princess for his son.

He knew about Cygnus Black and his precarious position in the House of the Blacks. The man had been doing horribly since his eldest had fled the family. Abraxas had nothing but disdain for the weakling. After all, how could a proud son of a house as powerful as the Blacks let himself give in to his weaknesses? Just because his daughter ran away with a mudblood? It was simply an asset that had lost its value. Nothing else.

However, Cygnus Black had done exactly that. He had lost himself in his grief over the loss of his daughter, and the results were there for all to see. His stock in his family had fallen and his business had been making recurring losses until he could not sustain it anymore and had to sell it for a value much less than the market rate.

Little did the man know that he had been the one to push his business down with carefully laid out schemes. Bribing the workers to produce substandard goods and ensuring the shipments were either sub-par or delayed was an easy enough ploy. How the man had noticed nothing was beyond him. Perhaps his so-called grief had made him senile.

Abraxas did not care though. He had the man right where he wanted him.

The iron was hot, and he had struck.

Cygnus must have seen him as a savior when he had proposed for Lucius and Narcissa to be wed when they graduated from Hogwarts, and the expression of abject shock and undisguised hope on the pitiful man's face had almost made him chuckle. However, he had controlled himself and maintained the visage of a loving father who wanted the best for his son.

His manipulation of the situation and the possibility of a match with his house – something he knew Cygnus believed he could have never arranged for his daughter ensured a significant step for him toward the realization of his objective.

As agreed between them, they had sent letters to both Lucius and Narcissa, conveying what they had agreed to and how they expected them to behave.

Only the official contract signing remained, which was only a matter of time. Arcturus Black was away, and he was expected to not return for a few months. He could wait for that long. There was no rush anyway.

Everything was done, after all. He was on the verge of winning…

…Or so he thought.

The letter he had received from Cygnus Black this morning had been unexpected, and the contents of the letter had made him wonder if it was all some silly joke.

Cygnus Black had decided to stall the betrothal. He had mentioned a reason. And the reason was something he had a hard time coming to terms with.

He looked at the letter and read the paragraph once again.

However, after discussing with my daughter I have been made aware that she is reluctant to marry Lucius. I am not jesting when I say that she is quite vehement in her desire. It is for this reason that I believe it would be prudent to stop these negotiations before they proceed any further. I have informed Narcissa about the change of events and I would ask you to do the same to your heir Lucius.

The letter had devolved into the standard way of greeting and he had paid no mind to anything after that.

It seemed Cygnus Black's weakness had reared its ugly head once again. The man's so-called love for his daughter must be the reason why he was not treating this negotiation as the business that it was. Narcissa was his asset, and he was happily letting her become a liability, for both the Blacks and the Malfoys. His eldest's absconding must have made the man fear for a repeat, and he had given in to his daughter's demands of not wanting to be betrothed to his son.

It was something he had not counted on. All the reports had told him that Narcissa Black was a dutiful daughter who would happily put her happiness and wants aside for the sake of her family. For her to so vehemently disagree with the prospect of marrying Lucius meant whatever the matter was, it was very significant.

There were several possibilities. The girl could have her eyes on another man like her elder sister. That could explain her reluctance. However, given how Cygnus had said in his letter that Narcissa was quite vehement in her disagreement, he could not help but wonder if it was something about his son and his conduct instead.

There was a third possibility which was undoubtedly the worst of the lot.

It could be a combination of both factors. Narcissa could be infatuated with another man and had her grievances with his son as well. If that was the case, then it was a challenge he would have a hard time overcoming.

Abraxas gritted his teeth and crumpled the parchment, throwing it away in the fire.

All his plans hinged on this match going forward. If this did not happen, then he would lose more than a place of prominence in his lord's ranks.

He did not fear for his heir's prospects. He could arrange any other match for him.

However, none of the other houses were the Blacks. There was a reason why they were so revered in the pureblood circles. The respect his house would have garnered from having an alliance with that house alone would have been immense, and the prospect of having half of their estate which was a considerable sum was just an icing on the proverbial cake.

It could have been the entire estate as well. After all, no one knows the future, much less Lestrange.

Now, everything was in jeopardy.

No, things cannot end like this!

Abraxas thought furiously about what he could do. He would need to devise a new approach, and for that, he needed to learn about the girl's motivations. Just what was so wrong about his heir that she was so vehement in her disagreement? Just what was up with the girl and did she indeed have her sights set on someone else? Questions that he needed to be answered before he could take another step forward.

Perhaps it was time for him to have a serious talk with his heir.

-Break-

To say that Lucius Malfoy had been having a bad day was like saying Dumbledore really shat roses.

It had started with that blasted early morning encounter with Peverell. He had been having a bad feeling since that meeting, and what followed during breakfast had not done anything to reassure him either.

Narcissa had ignored him during breakfast, instead choosing to eyefuck Peverell right in front of everyone. He was not an idiot. He knew what those looks meant.

It begged the question though. Why?

She had been the perfect lady until the previous day, and even if it was an act, it gave no one any reason to talk, unlike what had been happening since breakfast today.

Not having classes didn't give the masses anything better to do either.

She had chosen to show disinterest in him throughout the breakfast, not that he had been in the mood to engage her in a conversation either. However, once she got that letter, her disinterest turned into outright ignorance.

She had taken her leave without even bothering to glance at him, and as far as he was aware, the girl had vanished after breakfast. No matter how much he tried to look for her, she was nowhere to be seen. It was as if she was not even on school grounds.

There was one person who could know where she was though, but there was no way he was going to ask that maniac.

Although he did notice something. Peverell was also not with his usual posse.

It was not hard to put two and two together, and coupled with the smug grin on that demon-girl's face whenever he looked at her, he knew.

Narcissa was with Peverell, and Merlin knew what the two were getting up to. He had barely managed to keep his anger under control after that realization.

It had been a few hours since lunch, and he sat in the Slytherin Common Room with his usual crowd. As if knowing something was troubling him, they were all quieter than usual. Lucius did not pay any attention to anything though. The uncertainty was bugging him and he could do nothing but stare furiously into the fireplace.

His staring session with the fire was interrupted only when he heard the soft sound of an elf apparition. Eyes narrowed in disdain, he stared at the pitiful creature that was holding a scroll for him.

"Put it on the table and scram," Lucius hissed. The elf bowed pathetically and obeyed.

For a few seconds, Lucius stared at the scroll, wondering just what his father might want to talk about. They rarely communicated during the school year, with his letters having become rarer ever since his mother had passed away a few years ago. Now, their letters were mostly concerning any potential alliances or similar correspondence that happened once or twice every few months. Receiving a missive from him so early in the school year was indeed surprising.

Feeling the scrutinizing eyes of his allies on him, Lucius reached forward and untied the scroll. As he unfurled it and read, his eyebrows started to rise until he was staring at the parchment with wide eyes. Disbelief was etched across his face as he took in his father's words. The scathing remarks of disappointment for not carrying out his duty as expected of him cut deeper than any wound, but it was nothing compared to Cygnus Black's decision to stop the negotiations. All because of his daughter's vehement reluctance to marry him.

He had known. Deep inside, he had known that Narcissa loathed him. He carried the proof within him. A sense of pain that had erupted from within his being when he tried to touch the girl.

A sense of immense loss washed over him, and unbidden, Peverell's mocking words from the morning came to his mind.

You were never in the running, asshole.

The words did nothing but feed his fury.

"The fuck's with the long face?" Rudolphus grunted like the ape that he was, not that Lucius paid him any mind. His eyes raked across the parchment once, twice, thrice. He committed each word, each remark to memory, and the more he read, the more his ire grew. At himself. At his father. At that bitch. And at that asshole who had dared to take what was his to claim.

Without a word, he rose to his feet and stalked out of the Common Room. His rage was palpable, and his allies easily saw it for what it was.

Rushing behind the blonde, they exited the Common Room before falling in step beside him.

Lucius could pay no attention to his surroundings. His mind was numb from the words of his father. The sense of humiliation at being snubbed in favor of some filthy half-blood was drowning him in the ever-deepening pit of despair and rage, and it needed an outlet.

There was only one possible outlet his rage demanded to be unleashed upon, and as he made his way into the courtyard, his eyes fell on someone who could arrange it for him.

He was disgraced and his bloodline was walked over. The pride of the Malfoys demanded nothing but repayment in the filthy blood of the one who had dared to slight him.

-Break-

Augustus Rookwood was a pragmatic young man with an analytical mind. He believed in taking proper stock of a situation before taking any action. His patience had been a huge contributor toward him rising through the ranks in Slytherin and becoming one of the strongest players in the tactical game that was played in the dungeons.

Contrary to what many believed, Augustus was not a lackey of either Malfoy or Lestrange. He simply recognized the power those two families possessed in the administration and knew he did not need to do any heavy lifting when those three were already there. He could easily sit back and give a nudge here and there, thus contributing his fair share and not implicating himself in any manner.

Malfoy and Lestrange were assets, and that was it.

The moment he had seen Lucius' face when he was reading that letter, he had known that it was something very bad.

The man was lividly striding toward the courtyard with malicious intent, and when his eyes fell on the group in the middle, his sense of caution kicked in.

As quickly as he could, Augustus cast a Privacy charm and a Silencing charm around his group. Once he was done, he grabbed Lucius firmly by the shoulder.

The young man turned around roughly, and damn did he look livid. He was sure Lucius would have done something he would have surely regretted, and now was not the time for him to go down. Lucius was the face, and he would need to remain on the playing board for the foreseeable future. He had his vested interests as well, after all, and they required Lucius to be present.

"You dare put your hands on me, Rookwood?" Lucius snarled, violently shoving him back. "Who the fuck do you think you are!?"

Augustus caught his footing and ignored the tone. It was not the time nor the place to comment on it.

"What are you doing, Lucius?" He asked in return. Without allowing him to reply, he continued slowly with a hint of a warning in his voice, "I know whatever was in that letter was not pleasant, but attacking the Gryffs in front of everyone like that would worsen it all. Don't forget we are still in school, and there are tens of students around us."

"Like I give a fuck about that anymore," Lucius hissed. "That bastard Peverell and his whore will get it soon enough, but it's their turn first. I'll send Peverell a message right here right now!"

"I agree," Augustus interjected heavily, somewhat suspecting what the crux of the issue was. And it seemed so did Rudolphus, who had his grievances with Peverell. The brute snarled, "Peverell dared to take your bitch from you!?"

Augustus seethed to himself. The one time the idiot had decided to use his brain… Sighing, he looked around for help from his other allies, all of whom looked reluctant to speak up when those two were so riled up.

"Listen, you two," he began in a measured tone. "I know you want to get back at Peverell, but this is not the time or the place. Tomorrow is the first Hogsmeade visit, and you know Peverell will be there. Disguise yourselves and jump him when he's least expecting it. Doing it here in school where anyone could see you is recipe for disaster. There's no need to charge in like the brash Gryffindors. We are Slytherins. We wait in the shadows and attack when our victim least suspects it."

He stared down the two livid wizards while simultaneously nudging the wizard behind him to speak up.

"Rookwood is right, Lucius," Yaxley said firmly. "Take today to come up with something and do whatever you want to Peverell tomorrow."

Lucius stared at them for what felt like hours but was only a second or two. With a furious grunt, he stalked off. They watched him go when Rudolphus grunted, "You lot better not disappoint tomorrow. Peverell's overreached this time."

Spitting to the side, the eldest Lestrange also walked off with his brother following in tow. The rest of the wizards exchanged nods of understanding and walked away.

-Break-

Narcissa Black walked through the corridor that led to the Slytherin Common Room after spending the entire day with Harry.

After they were done enjoying their closeness as a new couple, they devoted a few hours to spellcasting.

She had to admit that he was one capable wizard, and not for the first time, she wondered who his tutors might be. There was no way one would teach battle spells as part of the school curriculum or help someone develop battle sense and awareness.

There was a reason, and she could not lie and say she was not curious. However, she was not going to pry. It was Harry's secret, and she was confident that he would tell her when he was ready.

She was no slouch either, but Harry was on a whole new level. If she had to guess, she would say he was easily beyond the level of a regular auror, and that was commendable.

As Narcissa walked through the doors to the Common Room, she spied Malfoy sitting with his usual crowd near the fireplace. To her slight surprise, no one looked up when she entered. A few who were looking around did pause to stare at her but she swiftly ignored them and walked forward.

It was only when she was in front of them that they finally noticed, and Narcissa did not fail to notice the rage in Malfoy's eyes. She wanted to smirk but she held back.

"Heir Malfoy, it is my belief that you received a certain letter from your father today?"

Narcissa had deliberately chosen to throw Malfoy's previous words back at him and damn it felt good to have the upper hand in this exchange. She could not wait to put it all behind him, already looking forward to a life of love and happiness with Harry.

It seemed Malfoy did not miss her intention either, as his jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed even more.

Narcissa had to commend him on the restraint he was showing. She still kept her smirk in check.

Malfoy did not reply, instead settling on giving her a curt nod.

"Splendid. And I hope you have no qualms about it?"

Yes, she was feeling vindictive. And she was willing to let it out by being petty. If throwing his insignificant words back in his face was enough then so be it.

This time, Malfoy reacted even more. His grip on the couch tightened and she saw his fingernails digging into the black leather.

"I'm glad to see that. I'm sure you will find someone who would be more suited and willing to assume the role of the lady of your house. Have a good evening."

A few eyes widened at the slight but Narcissa did not react.

Smiling prettily, she turned around and walked away. There was no need to say or do anything.

Malfoy was insignificant and she had a date to look forward to.

She was sure the next day was going to be a blast.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

Narcissa smiled to herself as she stood beside the large double doors that led into the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. Today was her first date with someone and she could not help but wonder what it would be like.

As expected of a proper pureblood heiress, she had put herself up very nicely. A dark blue wizarding dress reached below her knees and she had worn an expensive cream coat to stave off the chill of the approaching winter of Northern Scotland. Even if it was not snowing yet, the cold was palpable. She had let her blonde hair flow down her back in intricate waves but she did put a small cream woollen cap on her head that complimented her coat quite nicely.

The biggest sense of refreshment was that she no longer had to put up with someone who was more pretentious and snobbish than anyone she had ever met, not to mention disgusting. Lucius Malfoy liked to believe he was this sophisticated heir of a pureblood house but the truth couldn’t be any different.

She was happy that she was going out with someone who would genuinely appreciate both her and her beauty and not only consider her a pretty arm candy to show off to his associates.

As if knowing she was thinking about him, the man of her desires walked down the stairs toward her and she gave him a blinding smile. Without caring about who might be watching or what they might say, she beamingly wrapped her arms around his and pushed herself flush against his side, grinning up at him.

Harry was only a bit surprised at her exuberant greeting, which was saying a lot considering they were in plain view of most of the Hogwarts populace that was also on its way to Hogsmeade. As expected, hushed whispers broke out amongst the students as they glanced or pointed at them.

He ignored it all and smiled at the blonde he was infatuated with, taking her hands and dropping a soft kiss on her knuckles.

“You look lovely,” he complimented.

Narcissa preened, happy that he looked as elated to see her as she was.

“And you as well, very lovely,” she teased, taking in the soft rose patterns running over the front of his black jacket. Harry noticed and chuckled.

“Should we get going then?” He asked. Narcissa’s response was to nod.

Together, they walked out of the Entrance Hall toward the numerous carriages that would be taking them to the village. Harry made sure to roll his eyes when his Gryffindor friends raised a mocking toast or swooned dramatically as he walked with her. However, it was the sight of Bellatrix that made him do a double take.

She was standing by herself near one of the carriages with a soft smile etched on her face. What surprised him though was the look of utter happiness on her face as she looked at them. She looked utterly content with her gray eyes twinkling much like Dumbledore’s.

‘She truly loves her sister, doesn’t she?’ He thought to himself, smiling. Catching her eyes, he nodded at her.

Bellatrix simply grinned and walked away. Her sister was in good hands.

-Break-

Lucius Malfoy seethed to himself as he stared at the blonde bitch clinging on to that bastard Peverell like a cheap whore from one of those brothels in Knockturn. He had been in an exceptionally foul mood ever since he had received that accursed letter from his father and for good reason.

A scolding would have been preferred to the cold disappointment his letter carried.

Lucius had never disappointed his father, always striving to live up to his expectations. He believed he had always presented himself befitting his station as the proud heir of the Malfoys and for his father to express his disappointment in him hurt more than he wanted to admit.

Adding to that was the humiliation he had been subjected to by both Peverell and that bitch. The entire school had noticed Narcissa sitting with him for meals and as expected, the rumors had run wild. It all worked just the way he had expected, only for it all to vanish in a puff of smoke with poison added to it as now he was subjected to curious and dare he say sneering stares from those lowlives who had nothing better to do with their lives than to gossip about what happened with their betters.

Peverell had dared to take his property from him, and for that, he would suffer. If his property got a bit… damaged in the process, then it was not that much of a loss either. He had no interest in her anymore anyway. She was nothing more than an object of his vengeance and possibly a tool to exact that vengeance on Peverell as well.

“Let’s go,” Rudolphus snarled. He had not missed the look that bastard Peverell had exchanged with Bellatrix either. The bastard sure was greedy. First, he went after Lucius’ bitch and now he had the audacity to try and charm the other twin as well. He was livid at the fact that the lowlife had dared to try and steal something that belonged to Lucius, but for him to have his eye on his bitch as well… No. That won’t do. Lucius might have gotten a bit late with this revenge of his and lost his bitch as a result, but he had no intention of letting it go far in the first place.

It was better to just get it done with, as he always did whenever he found himself in bed with an ugly whore.

He walked alongside Lucius, and the rest of their group followed suit. They had a plan in place. It would end today.

“That asshole has stepped too far,” he hissed as they climbed into a carriage with Lucius, his brother, Yaxley, Rookwood, and Macnair. His cold eyes regarded Lucius who was still gritting his teeth in rage.

“He has to die,” the blonde stated succinctly. “And I’ll make sure it happens today.”

“You truly think this madness will work then?” Yaxley asked searchingly.

Lucius turned to glare at the young man who stared back evenly.

“No matter what his family name is or how good of a student he might be, he is nothing in front of them,” he replied. “A Hogwarts student having the ability to escape some of the best those dogs have to offer? Give me a break.”

And that was the plan they had come up with.

They would have contracted Greyback himself but he was not in the country. Thus, they had to resort to several others who although not as elite as Greyback and his pack were more than enough to take care of this little pest they had troubling them.

Peverell had to die. Simply being turned was also not good enough.

“What about Black?” Yaxley asked again. “You know the Blacks won’t rest easy if something happens to her.”

Lucius sneered.

“Those mutts can have her if they want,” he hissed hatefully. “And what happens between them and those Blacks is none of our concern. They’re filthy beasts anyway. Disposable once they’ve served their purpose.”

Everyone stared at Lucius and his hateful visage.

-Break-

“This one is private enough,” Narcissa smiled as she led him over to a table away from the windows. Harry chuckled and let her drag him over.

The Three Broomsticks was quite crowded so expecting absolute privacy was a fool’s endeavor anyway. This was the best they were going to get.

As expected, they got several intrusive looks from the usual Hogwarts crowd and even a few patrons who easily recognized Narcissa. No one said anything outright or approached them though – something they were grateful about. Yet, the looks did feel a bit unnerving.

“I guess I should’ve arranged for a picnic somewhere,” Harry muttered.

“Oh shut it,” Narcissa chuckled. “A Hogsmeade visit is incomplete without a nice little visit to this pub.”

“And Honeydukes as well. Why, I remember someone stuffing their moleskin pouch with as many varieties of goods as possible,” he teased. Narcissa gave him a firm kick under the table for his cheek, making him wince.

“Serves you well,” she muttered.

Their date had gone splendidly in Harry’s opinion. They had secured an entire carriage for themselves and Narcissa had wasted no time as she cuddled up to him. She was one clingy woman, he had discovered.

The day had also been entirely uneventful if he didn’t count the usual stares they got. Hogsmeade might be an exciting getaway from the monotonous life at Hogwarts but it was by no means an exciting place in its own right. A few stores scattered about the village and that was it. At least there was quite a scenery to go for it, he assumed. They had put it all on hold though, instead spending the first segment of their date around the town, frequenting whichever shop caught their fancy.

Narcissa had been particularly keen to visit Honeydukes, and that was their first destination. Harry could have never guessed how much she would buy, and it was a lot. More than he had expected, that was for sure.

Stocking up on their stationery from Scrivenshaft’s was followed by a quick visit to the Quality Quidditch Supplies’ little outlet where Harry got his new broom sorted out properly. It was no Nimbus or even a Firebolt but it was the best he could get in this time.

It did give him an idea though. Although he did not lack money, he could go ahead and launch a broom company. He knew there was a lot of money in the industry and he did have intimate knowledge of flying broomsticks. He decided to think up on it at a later date. For now, he wanted to enjoy the day with the lovely girl who had her arms wrapped around his.

She looked the happiest he had ever seen her, and that didn’t fail to make him feel elated, both for her and for himself. He was happy to save her from the hell that a marriage with Lucius would have surely been. However, his little selfish interest in her – one that wanted her to be his – was all but realized. The talk with Arcturus would indeed be jarring but he was sure they could get it sorted out.

They had only given Zonko’s a cursory glance, having already spotted the Prewett twins inside the store. Harry was sure they would be causing even more mayhem in the coming weeks and he was particularly looking forward to what they did to their dear esteemed Defense professor this time. Knowing them, it was sure to be a banger.

They did encounter Bellatrix when they were passing Gladrags. She was happily trying out a few items on display and yet again, Harry was slightly taken aback at how carefree she seemed. Looking at her, no one could have been able to tell that she would probably one day grow up to be a murdering maniac who would terrify witches and wizards across Britain.

Harry knew she was not the same person, and the more he learned about her, the more he realized that she was not even remotely the same person. Sure, she did have a mean streak about her but he had discovered that she was a very genuine person at heart. She was also a lot more outspoken and straightforward with whatever she wanted to say, as evident by the little stunt she had pulled with him that one morning.

He must have been thinking about it too hard as he jerked slightly when Narcissa took his hand on the table. The blonde pulled her hand back in surprise.

“Merlin you scared me!” She chuckled as she calmed herself down.

“Sorry,” Harry replied sheepishly. “Was just thinking about something.”

Narcissa nodded and looked around. She smiled when she spotted Madam Rosemerta coming over.

“Hogsmeade weekends are both an opportunity and a headache,” she smiled. “Now, you two lovebirds, what can I get you?”

“Can I get a butterbeer, please?” Narcissa smiled.

“Make that two,” Harry added. Rosemerta nodded and smiling, she walked away. Harry made sure not to let his eyes stray away for even a second, both while she had been facing them and when she was walking away. He knew she was a stunning woman and probably every Hogwarts lad’s wet dream. However, he had no intention of slipping today. That was a sure-shot way of sabotaging his date with this lovely witch.

Their order arrived in no time.

“Here you go, a butterbeer each,” Rosemerta said as she set their glasses on the table. “Will there be anything else?”

“We’ll tell you should we need anything,” Narcissa replied smoothly as Harry set their respective glasses in front of them.

The buxom blonde nodded and walked away. The moment she did, Narcissa put up a privacy ward around them.

“Well, I must say you’ve shown much restraint than I’d expected,” she remarked mirthfully.

“Hmm? What about?” Harry asked curiously. Narcissa merely gave him a look as if saying ‘I really need tell you?’ before she gestured toward Rosemerta who was being ogled by most of the male contingent.

Harry looked over and immediately looked away.

“Well, I have something much pleasant to look at right here,” he replied smoothly.

“Something, is it?” Narcissa asked pointedly, an eyebrow raised.

“Someone, I mean,” Harry corrected hastily.

The blonde stared at him calculatingly for a moment before she let out a giggle.

“Relax, Harry. I’m just fucking with you,” she chortled. Harry’s eyes widened.

“What?” She asked.

“Nothing,” Harry shook his head. “Just… it’s different to see you like this.”

“Like what?”

“This open and carefree, I guess. Also with no filter, I guess.”

“Oh,” Narcissa chuckled. “Well, one of my quirks, I think.”

“Quite a contrast to the prim and proper daughter of the Blacks, don’t you think?” Harry chuckled.

Narcissa giggled.

They drank, eyeing each other mirthfully. Narcissa put the glass on the table and rubbed her fingers over his. Smiling, Harry turned his hand over and let her intertwine their fingers.

“I’ve had a great time so far, Harry,” Narcissa said, smiling. “I’ve never been on a date before so all I had to go on was what I’d heard. I must say, this has been that and more.”

“We’ve not done anything much yet though,” Harry replied.

“Doesn’t matter,” she shook her head, smiling. “The company’s been very pleasing, if I’m honest.”

“Well, I try,” Harry said snobbishly, making her pinch his palm.

“No need to get a big head. It just means you got to up your game the next time we go out,” she replied.

“So there will be a next time, eh?” He teased.

Narcissa simply gave him a deadpan look.

“Harry,” she said. “I’m thinking of marrying you and here you are, teasing me about a second date? Seriously?”

Harry smiled at her lovingly as he caressed her palm with his thumb.

“I always thought I would have a political marriage,” she began. “I’d long given up on finding something special. The family situation didn’t help matters either. I will admit though that I held out some hope that something might develop between us when I got to know you for the first time.”

Harry smiled and let her continue.

“I’d felt a spark, I guess. It might sound cliché but it was attraction at first sight and I could not help but wonder. Even when you revealed that you were a half-blood, I remained hopeful that something might happen. However, Father’s letter made it all impossible, at least for the little while until you took care of it all,” she chuckled.

“I just couldn’t let you go away like that,” he replied truthfully.

“You must think I’m such a silly person to just let it all go so easily,” she said self-depreciatingly. “I know we never talked about it all but I guess we both knew about each other’s feelings. Tell me honestly, how disappointed were you with me when you got to know I wasn’t doing anything and was simply going ahead with what Father told me to do?”

Harry sighed.

“It did feel slightly disappointing, I won’t lie,” he admitted, making her bite her lip softly. He lifted her chin when she looked down.

“Sorry I couldn’t be more daring,” she whispered.

Harry shook his head with a small smile.

“I never held you guilty at all though,” he said. “Believe it or not, I knew how much pressure you were in. We were mere acquaintances, Cissa. It would be very foolish of me to expect you to choose me over your family, especially considering the stakes here. Truthfully, the fact that you were ready to cast your happiness aside for the sake of your family made me admire you even more.”

Narcissa remained silent as she drank her butterbeer to distract herself.

“Anyways, is there any need to think about all this?” he asked. “We’re here, together, and once things get sorted out with your grandfather we can finally start preparing for what’s up ahead for us.”

Narcissa chuckled and nodded.

“I’m not getting married until we’re well settled into our respective careers though, so keep that in mind, mister,” she wiggled a finger at him. Harry chuckled and nodded.

“Completely understandable and I have no issues with it. I’m not like those snobs who feel so insecure that they don’t let their wives realize their dreams. You have full right to do whatever you feel like doing and you better believe that you’ll have my full support,” he replied.

“Good to know,” she smiled. What he had just said meant more than he could even realize.

-Break-

Once they were done downstairs, they got up and approached Rosemerta who was tending to the counter.

“Ah, yes. He is already upstairs. Come, I’ll show you,” she told them.

Narcissa exchanged a look with Harry who nodded. They linked arms and followed behind the woman who led them upstairs where the private rooms were situated.

“Here you are,” she said. “Call me should you need anything else.”

Harry nodded. The woman walked away.

“Alright then. Let’s get this over with,” he said to Narcissa who smiled. He knocked on the door and entered, arm in arm with the daughter of the man he was supposed to meet.

Cygnus Black looked the same as he did when they’d first met. Unassuming and respectful as he stood to greet him.

“Lord Peverell, an honor to meet you again,” the man greeted.

Harry nodded politely and helped Narcissa into her seat before the two men took their seats as well.

Cygnus looked at his daughter and the young lord she was sitting with. He had not failed to notice how happy his daughter looked and he asked himself once again what he had been thinking when he had decided to agree to a betrothal between her and Lucius Malfoy.

Not for the first time, he felt unsurmountable guilt at having subjected his daughter to so much pressure that she got ready to put her happiness aside just for the sake of him.

“Father,” Narcissa smiled. Cygnus felt a lump in his throat and he coughed to bring his emotions under control.

“Narcissa,” he nodded solemnly. “First of all, please forgive me for everything I put you through. You never deserved any of it.”

“Father…” Narcissa whispered.

“Even though unknowingly, I heaped my problems on you and forced you to do something you never wanted. Believe me, Narcissa, I never intended to do something like that to you and I truly apologize for it.”

“Father,” Narcissa sighed. “You don’t have to apologize. I understand why you had to do it.”

“It doesn’t mean what I put you through was right.”

“No it doesn’t,” Harry replied in Narcissa’s stead, earning their attention. “Apologies for speaking out of place, Mr. Black, but you are indeed correct that you unknowingly put Narcissa through it. However, it’s all in the past. Believe me, your reasons are perfectly understandable, even though I do not agree with them. Perhaps it is because I have a more liberal outlook toward life, but I’d like to tell you something if I may.”

Surprised, Cygnus Black nodded. Harry smiled sadly.

“I believe the day purebloods stopped seeing their children as tools to further their standing, it would usher in a new era which all witches and wizards would be grateful for. Your intentions might have been pure, which I believe they were, but in the end, your true goal was to regain the prestige your branch of the family lost because your daughter followed her heart over what her family chose for her. Now, I don’t want to tell you how you should treat her but perhaps one instance should serve as a lesson that we should not repeat the same mistakes.”

Cygnus Black’s first reaction was one of agitation but he resisted, instead choosing to run the young lord’s words around in his mind and he found, to his utter shame, that he had indeed done what he had just been accused of. One look at his daughter’s face told him just how wrong he had been.

“Father,” Narcissa smiled gently. “I know you have realized everything by now. Please believe me, I hold no ill will or grudge toward you. Circumstances forced us to act a certain way. Can we do what Harry said? Take it as a lesson and move on so we never repeat these mistakes again?”

Cygnus Black released a deep breath and gave his daughter a rueful smile.

“I believe we can,” he replied.

Looking over at Lord Peverell, he asked, “I believe we have a few things to talk about, my lord.”

Harry nodded, straightening himself in his seat. He felt Narcissa take his hand under the table and he squeezed reassuringly.

“I shall be blunt, Mr. Black,” Harry said in the best lordly voice he could muster. “Your daughter and I love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together. I intend to have a formal meeting with Lord Black upon his return to Britain regarding a possible betrothal between the houses of Peverell and Black. Now, as I recall from the letter I received from you, you have no problem with a match between Narcissa and I.”

Cygnus nodded.

“It would indeed be an honor to have my daughter become the lady of House Peverell one day. And as I told you, the Blacks might not be pureblood supremacists as a whole but we do put a lot of value in the notion of purity of blood. I do not mean this as an offense, but with you being a half-blood, it would take a lot to get Lord Black to agree. This would be an unprecedented step indeed.”

“Your eldest married a muggleborn. I don’t believe it is as unprecedented as you are making it out to be,” Harry replied promptly in a firm voice.

Cygnus pursed his lips.

“And she was banished from the family for it.”

“Change has to begin somewhere,” Harry retorted. Sighing, he gazed at the man. “I do not mean any quarrel, but this notion of blood purity is something I don’t agree with. There have been so many theories regarding how practicing blood purity diminishes magical ability instead of improving it.”

“None are proven theories, Lord Peverell.”

Because they’ve not been allowed to be proven or even accepted,” Harry sighed. “My house’s reputation is well-known, Mr. Black. Believe me when I say that the Peverells have more than enough proof to establish how detrimental continued inbreeding can be to both the magical folk and the muggles alike. I agree that marrying into other pureblood families is a much better option than marrying cousins, but for how long? The number of pureblood families is limited. You are bound to run out of safe options sooner or later.”

“Harry,” Narcissa squeezed his hand. “I think this is a discussion better had with Lord Black.”

Harry glanced at her and sighed.

“Forgive me, Mr. Black. I seemed to have lost myself into the topic.”

Cygnus Black nodded.

“No apologies needed, my lord. I truly wish you would be able to reach an agreement with Lord Black. I can see my daughter is truly happy with you and the last thing I want is for her happiness to be taken away,” the man intoned solemnly.

Narcissa’s eyes softened and she stood up. She crossed around the table and hugged her father warmly. Cygnus Black was slightly surprised at the outward show of affection but he took his daughter in his arms and returned her hug.

He nodded when she pulled away, smiling as they took their seats once again.

Nothing more needed to be discussed at this time between them. Although he did take the time to get to know more about the young man who could very well one day be his son-in-law.

-Break-

“Your father sure was emotional,” Harry remarked as they walked on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. It was evening by the time they had left The Three Broomsticks after bidding farewell to Cygnus Black. The sky was overcast but they knew it was approaching sunset. Most of the students had already returned to the castle and they were among the few remaining.

Narcissa swatted him playfully on the chest in response.

“He’s been under a lot of pressure lately. It’s understandable.”

“Never said it wasn’t,” he chuckled as he looked around. They were by the forest that stretched as far as the eye could see. The Shrieking Shack was far into the ridge to their right as they came to a stop, gazing at it.

“They’re saying it’s haunted,” Narcissa began. “Apparently people can hear someone shrieking sometimes at night. Can you believe it? We have ghosts roaming about freely and they’re claiming some rundown shack is haunted.”

Harry chuckled to himself. Remus sure liked to create a ruckus during his time of the month. He flicked his wrist, summoning his wand in his grasp, and held it aloft. A swish and Narcissa saw a silvery blur shoot out of it and vanish as soon as it appeared.

“That was a weird Lumos spell,” she chuckled.

Harry smirked.

“That wasn’t a Lumos,” he replied.

Before Narcissa could say anything, the forest behind them lit up in crimson as dozens of stunners collided with several figures hiding in the dark foliage. They immediately turned around and Harry was impressed with how quickly Narcissa got into a combat stance.

“Werewolves,” she whispered in shock as she saw what looked like a large contingent of aurors firing stunners relentlessly at the backs of the creatures. A few emerged from the foliage and lunged toward them.

“Shields, Cissa. No need to engage,” Harry instructed.

Narcissa was already moving. A translucent golden shield materialized in front of both her and Harry as she held it aloft, watching in satisfaction as the transformed creatures collided with it. Meanwhile, Harry conjured a large cage around them before casting an unbreakable charm over it.

It didn’t take long for them to subdue the creatures that escaped the auror force and as they looked over, they saw the aurors had also successfully subdued their lot.

There were six in total. They had taken care of two while the aurors had dealt with four.

“Lord Peverell,” a man who looked to be in his early fifties grunted as he came over. “I don’t know how you got this information, but the DMLE has you to thank for alerting us. Pain in the ass, this lot’s been.”

“Happy to help, Auror Moody. Glad to see you and your force was so quick to respond.”

“You did tell us to be on standby and wait for your Patronus,” the auror grunted. “Seriously though, lad. You did us a big one here.”

Harry nodded and watched as the aurors got to work. The werewolves were transported trapped inside the cages to presumably the DMLE cells. All the while, Narcissa stared at the spectacle around them in surprise.

“You two will have to come to the ministry for the paperwork and all. Eleven in the morning will do.”

“Understood. By your leave then,” Harry replied as he took Narcissa’s hand and walked away.

Alastor Moody stared at their retreating figures before he shook his head and apparated away. He had a feeling that things would be getting interesting soon enough.

-Break-

“What the hell was that?” Narcissa hissed as she and Harry climbed into an empty carriage. The carriage began moving and she looked up at him from her place beside him.

Harry had an arm wrapped around her as he held her close.

“Nothing much. Just a little pest control,” Harry replied with a dark tone to his voice.

“Harry?” Narcissa asked pointedly.

Harry looked into her gray orbs and sighed.

“Lucius Malfoy did not like how you ended it all and are now with me. According to him, I stole his property and deserved to pay for it with my life.”

“What!?” Narcissa hissed.

“No need to worry your pretty head over it,” Harry chuckled darkly. “Malfoy played his hand out of his reach. I promise you he and his asshole friends will pay for it soon enough.”

“They better,” Narcissa replied firmly. “Or they might find themselves at the wrong end of my wand.”

“Oh?” Harry asked in amusement as he pulled her in his lap, making her look at him in surprise. “I never knew you had a dark side too, Miss Black.”

Narcissa shivered as she felt him caress her waist and nuzzle her face. She pulled back and regarded him heatedly.

“There’s a lot about me you don’t know about yet, my lord Peverell,” she replied in a whisper.

“Is that so?” Harry asked, leaning closer. “I can’t wait to find it all then.”

Narcissa groaned into the kiss and returned it with equal passion. The battle was a very short one but it didn’t fail to fill them with adrenaline and they clutched each other eagerly as they snogged.

Their breaths mixed and their tongues rolled about passionately as their lips caressed each other.

Narcissa pulled away after a few moments, looking at him with swollen lips and dark eyes.

“How did you even know about it all though?”

Harry took in her puffed lips and smeared lipstick. She looked hotter than she’d ever looked before. He could not help but smirk.

“That, my dear, is a secret I’ll tell you soon about.”

Narcissa moaned as he planted his lips on hers once again.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

It took the carriage coming to an abrupt stop for Harry and Narcissa to reluctantly pull away from each other.

They took their time, leisurely letting their eyes feast on each other's disheveled selves, lingering in a few spots just a beat longer. Her hair was artfully disheveled and her lips bore the marks of their passionate snogging. More of her skin was on display over her abdomen where he had pulled her top up and exposed her navel while they'd been making out, a testament to their heated moment.

Meanwhile, Narcissa did not shy away from openly admiring his slightly hairy chest, her eyes fixating on the mark she had left on the front of his neck. The hickey stood out boldly against his skin and a playful grin tugged on her lips as she locked eyes with him, finding a similar hunger mirrored in his gaze.

"Wow," she whispered.

"Wow indeed," Harry chuckled and kissed her again.

Reluctant yet understanding the necessity, they disentangled once again.

"I had a great time today," Narcissa whispered, resting her forehead against his. "Even though the day ended in a less than pleasant way, I wouldn't change anything."

Harry smiled.

"Come," he said lovingly, taking her hand in his. Narcissa acquiesced with a nod, gracefully climbing out of his lap. A warm flush tugged her rosy cheeks as she recalled the pleasurable sensation of his hardness against her core when she had been straddling him. She knew she was a beautiful witch and he was attracted to her, just as she was attracted to him, but the tangible evidence of his desire for her sent a flurry of butterflies fluttering about in her belly.

Hand in hand, they disembarked from the carriage, casting a brief glance around. They stood before the portcullis that led into the entryway of the large corridor south of the castle. A handful students were still meandering through, clutching large, bulging bags full of treats from Honeydukes in their hands, their voices filled with excited chatter.

Turning toward each other, they shared another loving smile before falling into step behind the excited students.

-Break-

"The fuck happened?" Lucius Malfoy whispered in rage as he saw the bastard and the bitch walk in hand in hand, all smiles. His wide eyes stared at their clasped hands and how the bitch was clinging on to the bastard like a common slut.

"Lucius," Rudolphus Lestrange hissed. "Those mutts that you arranged… they didn't turn their backs on us, did they?"

"Don't be barking mad, Lestrange," Lucius growled, his glare intensifying as he saw the bitch giggle like a silly bint at something the bastard said. "You were with me when we went to see them this morning. No way those filthy beasts would turn down a free meal."

"Then what the fuck happened?" Rudolphus retorted, glaring. "Why is the asshole and his bitch still here? Why are they acting like nothing happened? And why the fuck does it looked like those two were rutting somewhere?"

Lucius clenched his fists and gritted his teeth in rage. The way that bitch looked… it was evident that she had sullied herself with that bastard Peverell. He spat to the side in disgust.

"I warned you, Lucius," Rookwood said curtly. "You didn't listen. Those mutts turned on their word. That's why those two are here looking like nothing happened."

"No need to act so smug about it, Rookwood," Lucius snarled as he brandished his wand. "Come with me. We'll finish what those pathetic mutts couldn't even do anything about."

"Are you mad, Lucius!?" Yaxley hissed. "Attacking him in the school like this?"

"People will find out if we're caught," Rudolphus stated ferally instead of Lucius, glaring at the retreating figures of Harry and Narcissa who entered the castle and seemed to be walking toward the Grand Staircase. "I don't give a fuck about Black, but that bastard has to go."

"I told you all already. He's just another student. No way he can escape when we all corner him," Avery interjected before turning toward the other two. "Come now, or are you wimps?"

Rookwood and Yaxley exchanged a glance with each other before they turned back toward Lucius and Rudolphus and nodded. Together, the five turned around and walked away at a brisk pace.

On the way, they were met by a few more of their associates and they stopped agitatedly.

"How the fuck did they get away!?" Rabastan Lestrange hissed as he rushed toward them from one of the corridors with Nott and MacNair.

"Doesn't matter," Lucius hissed. "We're taking care of the vermin now. Where did you see them?"

"Peverell and Black were walking toward the dungeons."

"Good. Come, you all."

They all fell in line and walked behind Lucius toward the stairs that led to the dungeons.

-Break-

Harry and Narcissa made their way through the shadowy depths of the dungeons toward the Slytherin Common Room. They ignored the stares they got from several Slytherins and non-Slytherins alike and it was only when they reached the entrance to the common room that they finally came to a halt.

"You've got to tell me how you know where our common room is," Narcissa remarked with a shake of her head as she turned to face him.

Harry's lips curled into a smug smirk.

"One day, sure," he replied. A contented smile graced Narcissa's features as he leaned in, capturing her soft, pink lips with his own. Her arms instinctively came up to wrap around his neck and she pushed herself on her tiptoes, pressing her curvaceous frame against him. She hummed in blissful contentment as he held her by the waist and kissed her with passionate fervor.

It felt like hours had slipped by when they finally pulled away and looked into each other's eyes, the flames of love and passion reflected in their gaze.

"Until tomorrow, then," she whispered, a radiant smile lit up on her beautiful face. Harry nodded in agreement. With a final, lingering squeeze, they reluctantly released each other.

Watching Narcissa turn and retreat into the common room, Harry's smile slowly faded. Once she had disappeared from his line of sight, his expression shifted to one of focused determination.

"Luna, I need you to stay with her until I call for you," he communicated silently. "Stay hidden at all times. Only emerge if she's in danger."

Harry sensed his familiar's affirmative response in his mind and felt her detach from his shadow, vanishing from sight.

He darted his eyes from one side to another before he turned around and made his way toward the stairs leading out of the dungeon.

Strolling at a sedate pace, hands comfortably nestled in his pockets, he observed his surroundings casually. The sun had long since set and the castle was aglow with the warm light of lamps affixed to the walls, casting the corridors in the usual eerie radiance, a sight familiar to the denizens of Hogwarts. In the distance, Harry spotted Peeves, the resident poltergeist, gleefully chasing a group of young students with dungbombs in his spectral arms, prompting a chuckle from him.

The atmosphere around the castle seemed to have settled into a sense of calm, an almost carefree ambiance, in stark contrast to the impending turmoil that he knew was on the horizon. Voldemort was out there, still in the initial stage of his nefarious planning, and once he started his offensive, there would be little standing in his way.

Harry's mood took a sudden downturn as he wrestled, once again, with his decision to spare those he knew would soon be joining the dark bastard's ranks. It felt like he had dwelled on this internal debate incessantly, as if it consumed his thoughts. He was acutely aware of the heinous deeds they would eventually commit, dreadful people that they were who deserved to suffer the most severe punishment imaginable. Yet, he was deliberately choosing to let them live freely.

Ultimately, it came down to his unwavering sense of morality. He knew the possible consequences of his inaction, and the only thing holding him back from doing something about them was the fact that they had not become Death Eaters yet.

'Yet,' he mused, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. Even in his own contemplation, he could not escape that fact that it was only a matter of time before it happened. 'Then why? Why am I not doing anything? Just because they are students? What Malfoy and his cronies tried to do today is proof enough that they are as vile as I knew them to be…'

His footsteps gradually slowed, eyes trained to the floor beneath him, lost in his morbid thoughts.

'Do I truly need to do this? Isn't it better to just get it done with? Nothing so far has indicated that any of them will turn out any different…'

Indeed, that was the extent of his discoveries so far. Out of all those who were at Hogwarts right now, the only one he did not have any misgivings for was Barty Crouch Junior. Everyone else had unveiled their true colors so far.

Exhaling a sigh, Harry ventured out into the courtyard, a chill sweeping over him as he was assaulted by the brisk, wintery air. He trod across the gravelly path, heading toward the Owlery. He had not contacted Aunt Dorea since she had gone to such great lengths for both him and Narcissa. A letter carrying his heartfelt gratitude was the least he could offer in return.

'I'll see if I can get her a necklace or something,' he thought, smiling. Materialistic it might be, but the gesture was what counted.

With perfect nonchalance, Harry ascended the Owlery stairs.

-Break-

"This way," Lucius Malfoy whispered, leading his group of thugs out into the courtyard.

"What about Black?"

"She's not the priority. Peverell needs to be offed right now. Yaxley, Rookwood, you two keep the perimeter. Make sure you alert us the moment you see someone. The six of us will rush the bastard," Rudolphus Lestrange grunted malevolently. The two boys exchanged a look and nodded.

Avery, MacNair, Nott, Rabastan, Lucius, and Rudolphus walked ahead of the two, wands out and at the ready.

"You've thought about how you'll dispose of his body, right?" Rabastan whispered from behind his brother as they discreetly walked ahead.

"My bottomless bag will do for now. We can send it out of the castle with an owl. The servants will take care of disposal," Rudolphus replied curtly.

Everyone nodded. It was the best plan in their opinion.

"Where's the bastard even going?"

"Looks like the Owlery," Lucius muttered.

"Nice. Plays perfectly into our little plan. No one will come this way at this hour anyway," Rudolphus grinned ferally.

"Take cover."

As one, the eight hid behind a large wall and Lucius peeked to see Peverell ascending the staircase.

"We're out in the open, Lucius. Anyone could see us," Rookwood warned.

"No one will be here at this hour," Nott replied. "They've all come back from Hogsmeade. It's shower time."

"Keep a lookout in any case," Lucius instructed, looking at Rookwood and Yaxley who nodded. The two split from the main group, each taking position at opposite ends of the courtyard and keeping an eye on the incoming corridors.

"Let's go," Rudolphus hissed and rushed out from behind the wall the moment he saw Peverell walk into the Owlery. "Today, that bastard will get what he deserves."

"No unforgivables," Lucius warned. "We don't want to trigger any castle wards. Cast to kill, but be sure to keep it discreet. No exploding spells either."

"Nott, raise up the privacy ward around the Owlery," Avery whispered. The boy hastened to follow the command.

"That's it," Rudolphus grinned. "Nice and easy, boys. Let's get this pest neutered."

As one, they took position outside the door.

"Ready?"

With a resounding crash, the door swung open and the first salvo of spells rent the air. Owls hooted and flew away from the owlery, startled, as Lucius and Rudolphus surged forward, their eyes carrying their lethal intent. The other four shadowed their footsteps, and all quickly took up strategic positions around the room. They had their backs to the walls as they formed a circle, and their triumphant eyes bored down on the crumpled, bleeding figure sprawled on the dirty floor of the owlery.

"Well… well… well…" Rudolphus taunted with a menacing smirk. "That was a job very well done, boys. Very well done indeed."

A cruel satisfaction painted the faces of the future Death Eaters, a twisted display of malevolent triumph, as they beheld the sight of a prone and bleeding Peverell. He lay sprawled on the grimy floor, his eyes mere slivers of consciousness amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf him. His wand remained untouched, a pitiful testament to his helplessness in the face of their ambush.

The once-pristine fabric of his shirt bore witness to the violent assault, now a tapestry of gruesome wounds and splatters of crimson that marred its once-clean surface. The cruel artistry of their cutting curses had wrought havoc, leaving a trail of jagged gashes that crisscrossed his chest and belly, each one a demonstration of the unrelenting brutality they had unleashed upon him.

"I must say I'm disappointed, Peverell," Lucius said dispassionately. "I expected much more from you. At least a spell. Alas, it seems you were more pathetic than I thought."

A malevolent chorus of grins stretched across the faces of the Slytherins, their expressions twisted in sadistic satisfaction. Lucius Malfoy, the mastermind of this vile assault, leaned over the fallen figure with contempt dripping from his lips. With a cruel snarl, he spat on the already bloodied form, a final, degrading act that served as a venomous punctuation mark to their ruthless assault. The room seemed to reverberate with the palpable aura of malice, a suffocating presence that hung heavy in the air.

"Get ready, boys," Rudolphus smirked. "Make sure this piece of shit is given the exclusive treatment. Cast away."

In perfect synchronization, the six wizards directed their wands toward the wounded figure of Peverell, unleashing bolts of malevolent red, ominous purple, dark gray, and agonizing yellow that converged upon him. Not even a single sound of pain escaped his lips as the cutting curses cruelly severed his limbs. The gouging curse rent his belly asunder, casting a gruesome spray of blood and entrails across the dirty room. Avery's bonebreaker splintered his ribs, while Lucius' merciless cutting curse swiftly decapitated him, extinguishing the last flicker of life from his eyes.

In a mere five seconds, the body was reduced to an utterly unrecognizable, nightmarish display of carnage. Each wizard's spellwork had contributed to the grotesque transformation, leaving no trace of the man who once lay there, prone, never having had any chance. Nothing remained but a haunting evidence to the evil these wizards were capable of.

Suddenly, an eerie and unsettling aura hung heavily in the atmosphere, sending shivers down the spines of all six wizards. A paralyzing stillness overcame them, causing their heartbeats to skyrocket. Like massive appendages forged from solid stone, colossal arms burst forth from the ground before they could blink, trapping them in an unyielding embrace and robbing them of any hope of escape or freedom.

"What the fuck is this!?"

Rudolphus's enraged voice pierced through the struggle, laced with a mixture of disbelief and fury. He fought vehemently, straining against the enormous arm's unyielding grip that had ensnared him, refusing to yield an inch. A collection of grunts and strained efforts echoed around him as his cronies too wrestled with the unrelenting embrace of the immense stone appendages, their bodies contorted in a desperate bid for freedom.

"Aaarrrggghhhh!"

The resounding cry that erupted from the mouth of Thomas Avery immediately drew their attention and their eyes widened in shock and disbelief as they took in the scene.

Lucius's voice reverberated through the room, a mixture of horror and disbelief seeping into his tone as he bellowed out the young man's name. His eyes widened in stunned disbelief as he beheld the grim spectacle of his comrade, his limbs twisted and shattered, dangling piteously over the arm that dispassionately dropped him to the floor.

"Shit! These will squeeze us to death if we move too much!" Rabastan cried out, grunting as he felt the pressure on his bones and joints. Immediately, he ceased his movements.

A sudden, ominous sound of footsteps reverberated through the room, jolting them from their desperate struggle. Their heads swiveled in unison, eyes widening in sheer disbelief, as the figure of the very wizard they believed they had killed mere moments ago materialized out of thin air before them, wearing a malevolent smirk that sent shivers down their spines.

"I must say, I expected much more from you lot," Harry Peverell called out, relaxed.

"Peverell!" Lucius whispered in shock. "H-how? Y-you… I killed you!"

"A pretty shit job you did, Malfoy," A wicked grin played across Harry's lips as he deftly flicked his wand. Their eyes widened in shock when they beheld the shocking revelation: the person they believed they had killed was nothing but a transfigured piece of meat. "One of the many owl treats you'll find in this place."

"You tricked us," Malfoy hissed.

"Wow, there is a brain in there after all," Harry called out in a mock-surprised voice. "Shame it's pretty limited though."

Malfoy and his lackeys seethed with a venomous rage, their faces contorted with hatred as Harry's initial mirthful gaze bore into them. The atmosphere grew tangibly frigid, a sinister chill settling over the owlery, as if the very air had turned hostile in response to the impending confrontation. Harry's once mirthful countenance transformed in an instant, his eyes now ablaze with a murderous intensity that sent a shiver down the spines of the six Slytherins.

They stood rooted in place, trapped in a nightmarish display of dread and fury. Fear and anger blended on their faces, creating a stormy brew of emotions that mirrored the tumultuous conflict raging within them. They were acutely aware of the magnitude of their mistake, the realization settling like a heavy weight in their chests. In their hubris, they had unwittingly made a ruthless adversary, someone whose power and resolve seemed to eclipse their own. Yet, their stubborn pureblood pride rebelled against the notion of conceding defeat, refusing to acknowledge the gnawing truth that they stood outmatched by a so-called filthy half-blood.

"You truly thought you could do anything to me, Malfoy? Lestrange? Truly?" Harry nonchalantly asked, his steps measured as he circled around with an aura of dismissiveness. He spared them nothing more than a cursory glance, his expression one of indifference and derision as he scoffed at their impotent rage. "I warned you, didn't I? I told you to keep away from me and mine, and you would live. It seems your inbred little brains could not comprehend a simple warning, hmm?"

"You better release us, asshole!" Rudolphus Lestrange shouted, spittle flying out of his mouth. Harry's face contorted into a disgusted sneer.

"Just shut your piehole, you inbred buffoon," he called out and idly whipped his wand. Their eyes widened in horrified disbelief as, in an instant, Lestrange's lips vanished, leaving behind a gaping void where his mouth once was. The sudden and brutal display of magic rendered them speechless. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, my little warning. I seemed to have truly hurt your pathetic pureblood pride, eh Lucius?"

Lucius Malfoy remained silent as he cast a seething glare at the smug bastard. The air seemed to crackle with tension under the weight of the animosity between them.

"I told you I won't be lenient the next time, and you better believe I don't plan to," A steely resolve settled into Harry's gaze and he flicked his wand.

The room resounded with a symphony of agonized wails, a cruel cacophony that reverberated off the stony walls of the owlery as the unyielding stone arms tightened their merciless grip. They squeezed their bodies, shattering their arms and making them cough blood. For the first time, they felt primal fear surge through their veins as they stared at this madman who they had angered beyond belief.

Harry's malevolent eyes full of searing determination blazed with a righteous fury that pierced their very souls as he glowered at them.

"You sent those werewolves to attack me and Cissa, with full intention of killing me and letting them do whatever they wanted to do to her," Harry hissed. "You will pay for that."

Lucius let out a guttural cry filled with sheer agony as the unyielding stone arms constricted with even greater force, ruthlessly dislocating his shoulder. Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the blood and sweat that marred his once-pristine visage. The sickening pop of his dislocated joint echoed in the air, etching the searing pain into the core of his being.

"You know, Malfoy, I've been playing nice for way too long. I had the power to put an end to you and your sorry lot ages ago, but I held onto this tiny hope that maybe, just maybe, you'd wise up. But after what happened today, it's crystal clear now. There's no redeeming you and your worthless thugs. You're nothing more than an annoying nuisance that needs to be dealt with, once and for all."

"Peverell!" Nott's voice cracked, a desperate plea accompanying his groan of pain. "Come on, man! You don't have to do this!"

"Yes!" MacNair cried. "We get it! We fucked up! We'll steer clear of you, we promise! We'll never bother you, I swear!"

"Shut up, you bastards!" Rabastan Lestrange snarled, glaring at him with utter loathing. "This asshole can't do anything. Already he's in deep shit after doing this to us. He knows damn well he can't get away with anything, let alone killing us!"

Amidst their feeble groans, a hearty chuckle resounded, and their gazes fell on a smirking Harry. He regarded Rabastan with a gaze that conveyed what he thought of him – a petulant child.

"I can kill you right here, right now, and send your filthy carcasses packing in that bottomless bag your brother is carrying. And funnily enough, we're in the owlery as well. Though it looks like the owls have been spooked a bit too much. No worries though. There are more ways to get such a small package out. Why, wasn't that your grand plan for me?"

A collective chill settled over the owlery and everyone's eyes bulged out in disbelief at Peverell's words. It didn't take long for realization to dawn on Lucius' face.

"Traitor! Who is it!?" The blonde ponce bellowed furiously, enraged beyond belief. Suddenly, he bent over as the rocky embrace around him constricted with brutal force. More bones fractured and splintered, making the sickening sound echo around the otherwise silent room.

A wave of disbelief washed over them. Their eyes, wide with incredulity, remained fixed on Harry. That had indeed been their plan and apart from them, only Yaxley and Rookwood were aware of it.

"It's pretty easy to get word around on short notice," Harry said nonchalantly, tossing a galleon in the middle of the grotesque circle of rocky limbs. Their eyes focused on the coin and they saw the message clearly emblazoned on the glinting surface.

"Unlike others, at least someone in your pathetic group knows how to pick the right side."

As if on cue, the door to the owlery opened gently and the Slytherins' eyes widened as they set sight on the one who had betrayed them. Eyes filled with murderous rage, they stared at the stoic visage of Augustus Rookwood.

The previous day…

Harry Peverell kept a steady grip on his wand, its tip poised just beneath the chin of the dark-haired wizard. The air hung heavy with tension as the latter merely kept his hands raised in a gesture of voluntary surrender.

"You seriously expect me to believe that?" Harry asked with a scoff.

"I don't," Rookwood replied. "That's why I'm ready to prove myself."

A brief silence hung in the air as Harry fixed a shrewd gaze upon him.

"Go on."

"Lucius has lost himself. No, he lost himself a long time ago. Only now I've decided it's enough. He doesn't care about the consequences of his actions, and I don't want any part in his foolishness."

"Get to the point, Rookwood," Harry said impatiently, digging the tip of his wand deeper.

"He's planning something. He's not told us yet, but whatever it is, it'll happen tomorrow in Hogsmeade. Knowing Lucius, he would do it outside the village, so I won't venture much further if I were you."

Harry's gaze bored into the young wizard with sharp intensity. He had to admit he was genuinely intrigued. He had not expected one of their own ranks to turn cloak, and it had caught him off guard. Yet, it appeared that Rookwood possessed the brains to make the right judgment.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"I had no business coming here in the first place, but you're the only person who has triggered Lucius so much. Your family name is legendary and I've known since the first day that Lucius has been making mistake after mistake in going after you. You only have my word right now and I hope to prove myself tomorrow, if you'll allow me."

Harry leveled another piercing gaze at the young wizard, searching for any hint of hidden motivation.

"Alright, Rookwood. I'm willing to give you a chance, but before I do this, I'd like something in return."

Intrigued, Augustus looked at him.

"I believe an Unbreakable Vow would be a far more telling measure of your sincerity than any mere gesture you might make."

The man's eyes widened in surprise, his gaze fixated on the figure that emerged from the shadows behind Peverell. It was someone he knew all too well.

"Bellatrix here can be the binder," Harry announced. "So what would it be? Are you truly serious about this or… was all of that just talk?"

Augustus Rookwood's eyes fell on Bellatrix Black and a nervous lump formed in his throat. The young woman was staring at him a feral intensity, and it filled him with an unsettling feeling that she would tear his throat out if he so much as stared wrongly at the wizard in front of him. He could not help but wonder just what Peverell had done to tame this witch so efficiently that she had become so loyal to him.

Despite his sudden unease, he remained resolute in his intentions. In the end, it was an easy choice. He had made his decision, and now it was time to see it through.

He was ready to bear whatever consequences might follow his judgment.

Present time…

"You fucking traitor," Rabastan hissed through clenched teeth, his rage palpable.

Rookwood's response was eerily composed. "This is the way of the world, Rabastan. This is just business. I simply chose the side that's more beneficial to me."

"Shut your damn mouth, Augustus!" Rabastan snarled. "You're nothing but filth. And I hope you die the worst death imaginable."

Rookwood met Rabastan's venom with a cool, indifferent look. He glanced toward Harry when he addressed him.

"Yaxley?"

Wordlessly, Rookwood flicked his wand and the stunned and defenseless form of Corban Yaxley floated inside the wide room.

"You may do the honors with him, if you want," Harry shrugged carelessly.

Rookwood stared at the stunned wizard with a steady gaze, his lips pursed in contemplation. "I never had any quarrel with him. I'd rather abstain."

"Then I guess I get to have some fun with this one," an enthusiastic voice sounded from behind them and Harry resisted the urge to sigh. Bellatrix sounded way too eager for his liking.

"Just make it quick, Bellatrix."

The woman nodded eagerly and her wand materialized in a swift, practiced motion. Harry's gaze briefly grazed the curved walnut wood before he averted his eyes. A series of bolts—crimson, purple, orange and gray emerged from it in quick succession.

The broken figures of the Slytherins watched with detached eyes as Yaxley's body was torn asunder just like the transfigured form of Harry had been some time ago.

"Anyone among these you want, Rookwood?"

Augustus Rookwood regarded the broken forms of his former associates with a chilling air of indifference.

"Not truly, but I'm available should you need a wand."

Harry nodded and gestured toward Nott and MacNair.

"Bellatrix—"

"I'll take Rudy and his rude little brother," the young woman smirked ferally. Harry shrugged.

"Least work for me then," he muttered, his gaze fixated on the most grievously battered among them, nothing but disdain in his eyes.

Lucius was writhing in pain and so was Avery, but there was no mistaking the look of utter hatred in their eyes.

"This is for the hundreds of lives you would've surely taken someday," Harry whispered with hatred and with a swift, decisive flick of his wand, he severed Avery's head, watching dispassionately as crimson pooled on the unforgiving floor.

Looking over, he observed Rookwood who had also made quick work of MacNair and Nott. Their lifeless forms lay at his feet and a silent nod passed between them.

Rabastan, drained of all resistance, met the glowing tip of Bellatrix's wand with a stoic detachment.

"Just get it done with," the future Death Eater muttered, pushing through the haze of pain.

"Gladly," Bellatrix smirked and cast the cutting curse, severing his head off.

Unlike his brother though, Rudolphus' eyes were still glaring maliciously at everyone in sight. He was joined by the pitiful figure of Lucius who was sprawled out on the floor in a wretched state.

"Oh Rudy," Bellatrix said mockingly. "How delusional you've always been… thinking you'd have any chance with me…"

There was a gaping hole where his mouth used to be, and Bellatrix smirked.

"You don't need to speak. Your eyes are shouting," she chuckled. "You'll die today, Rudy. But not before knowing something."

Her voice transformed into a malicious snarl as she spoke, venom dripping with every word, "You and your fucking cunt of a father thought you could buy me!? That you could lay a claim on me? You wanted to lay a hand on me, you filth!?"

Every word dripped with malicious intent, punctuated by a vicious spell that sliced through the air like a blade. With each syllable out of her mouth, a cruel cutting curse followed, cleaving off large chunks of flesh that plummeted to the floor with a sickening splatter. It made for a gruesome sight.

"You never had any right! None of you had any right! Not over me! Not over my sister!" She snarled, glaring at Malfoy who returned her glare the best he could in his wretched state. "There is only one man for my sister, and there is only one man for me!"

Before anyone could blink, Bellatrix furiously grabbed Harry by the collar and smashed her lips against his.

Harry's breath caught in his throat, his senses reeling from the sudden, unexpected contact. Before he could even begin to process the whirlwind of emotions, Bellatrix abruptly pulled away, furiously glaring at Rudolphus.

"Keep that sight in your mind as you rot in hell, you fucking scum!" She snarled and whipped her wand forward. A bolt of malevolent crimson shot out of her wand with deadly precision and cleaved through the massive stone arm that was crushing Rudolphus, tearing through the man's torso and separating the top half of his body from the bottom in a gruesome display of magical power and control.

Lucius could only manage a feeble groan at the sight of his destroyed associates. In the span of a mere half-hour, their grandiose plans, their aspirations, their very desires had all been mercilessly torn asunder.

Defeated, he forced his eyes off the floor and trailed them up the bastard's body.

Harry had quickly pushed Bellatrix's sudden action out of his mind, resolving to address it later on.

He met Lucius' pitiful gaze with his own and scoffed in disgust.

"As much as I'd love to deal with you right now, Malfoy, there's someone else who deserves to make that decision. Rejoice. You get to live for a little while longer."

A bolt of crimson collided with Malfoy's face, rendering him unconscious in an instant. His body collapsed to the dirty floor in a graceless slump.

Harry surveyed the gruesome aftermath of the carnage. The floor was marred by splatters of blood and scattered remnants of flesh. With a weary sigh, he flicked his wand and cleaned the floor. Another flick of his wand sent the massive stone arms dissipating into nothingness. The corpses fell on the floor with a wet squelch, unleashing a fresh wave of crimson that further stained the floor.

"What a chore," he muttered dispassionately.

Half an hour later, an exhausted Harry Potter was led through the Slytherin Common Room under his Invisibility Cloak toward the sixth-year girls' dormitory. Bellatrix kept a firm hold on his arm as she walked, glancing at him occasionally and biting her lower lip in nervousness.

"I don't know what came over me back there," she whispered.

Harry chanced a look at her nervous face and sighed.

"We'll talk about it later. For now, we need a good, sound sleep. You sure it's fine with me being here?"

"You need good company right now. Don't worry. No one dares to come in without my or Cissy's permission. They know to keep away," Bellatrix replied with a hint of pride in her voice.

Harry shook his head as they entered the dorm and he looked around.

Bellatrix stepped out of the cloak as the door closed behind them and Harry took it as his cue to put it away. Narcissa was nowhere to be seen, although he could hear her humming in the bathroom.

"Must be taking a bath," Bellatrix announced.

Harry nodded and took a seat on one of the chairs, waiting expectantly for his lovely girlfriend who emerged from the bathroom mere minutes later. However, his eyes widened when he saw, to his shock, that she had walked out stark naked with only a towel wrapped over her head.

Time seemed to stand still as their gazes locked in a shared moment of wide-eyed shock. Suddenly, Narcissa's startled cry pierced the stillness as she hastily covered herself with the towel, staring at him with her eyes wide in alarm.

Off to the side, Bellatrix observed the scene and a peal of laughter bubbled from her lips. Slowly, their gazes shifted toward the hysterically giggling girl who, upon seeing their incredulous expressions, laughed harder.

Before either of them could react, the brunette flicked her wand and their eyes widened even more as both Harry's and Bellatrix's clothes vanished as well, rendering them entirely naked.

"Now we're all even," she smirked, throwing her wand on the table.

Stunned beyond words, Narcissa could only muster an aghast, "Bella, what the fuck!?"

TBC.

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Chapter Text

Shocked, Harry and Narcissa stared at the giggling Bellatrix who stood there, entirely naked, in the middle of the room.

"Now we're all even," she smirked and threw her wand on the table.

"Bella, what the fuck!?" Narcissa exclaimed in shock, her feet rooted to the spot, as she stared at her twin disbelievingly.

"What? It's only fair that everyone joins in the flashing, right?" The brunette replied unrepentantly. She turned toward Harry and unabashedly stared at him, licking her lips seductively as she took in the sight of his naked body. Her gaze lingered in all the right spots, admiring him with lustful eyes and envisioning how it would feel to have her hands all over him.

Meanwhile, despite whatever she might be feeling, Narcissa was not immune to the sight of a naked Harry either. She could feel her heartbeat quicken as she ran her eyes over his naked frame, much like her twin was, and similar feelings coursed through her. She had already touched him, but for the sight to be revealed added another layer to the attraction she had for this man.

The sensation was twofold for Harry as he took in the visions that the twins were. So similar and yet so different. Narcissa, with her blonde hair, and Bellatrix with her dark brown. That, combined with their facial features was where the differences ended. In every other aspect, they were so similar that he failed to tell apart any differences.

Their height was the same. Their physical attributes were the same. And the way they stood was so similar that it left no doubt in his mind as to the fact that they were twins. Their bodies were so proportionate that it filled his mind with desires he'd been feeling for the lovely blonde for so long now. He inched to reach out and indulge in the offering he had been inadvertently presented with, to touch her, to caress her, and to shower her with all the pleasure she deserved.

However, it was a similar feeling of attraction for Bellatrix that both surprised and excited him. Just like her twin, she had the perfect pair of tits he believed he would ever lay eyes on, albeit with a darker shade in the center. Just a tad though, he could not help but remark to himself. Her belly was just as flat as Narcissa's, and the neatly trimmed junction between her legs stirred forbidden emotions within him.

Narcissa and Bellatrix also stared, and their breaths hitched when they laid eyes on what lay between his legs. His manhood, stirring awake, began to rise until it was a protruding mast and never had a sight fascinated them so much. Their eyes were filled with wonder as they laid eyes on the first manhood they had ever seen, and they could not have stopped the stirring in their loins at the sight even if they'd tried. The fact that they were the causes behind his erection further fueled their arousal and they had to clench their toes while trying to control their breathing.

Fortunately, or unfortunately for some, Harry was the first to regain control over his emotions and he quickly flicked his wand, rendering him fully clothed once again in no time. That seemed to shake both the blonde and the brunette out of their combined stupor. Narcissa quickly dashed to the side, and Harry's eyes widened as they feasted on the delicious sight of the blonde with her tits flopping about and her arse jiggling sexily as she moved over to where he presumed her clothes must be.

He was a hot-blooded male, and there was no way he could have taken his eyes away from the alluring sight of his Cissa as she quickly donned her nightdress. He watched, brows furrowing slightly, as she walked back into the bathroom and emerged mere moments later with her wand.

"Any idea what she must be up to with her wand in the bathroom, my dear?" The sexy purr of Bellatrix made him shiver as she gently nibbled on his earlobe. He jerked slightly, turning around to face her just as Narcissa came over. "You must've left her all hot and bothered. Can't say I'd blame her. I've been doing the same ever since I fell for you."

Harry's eyes widened slightly as he stared at her.

"Dress yourself, Bella," the blonde said firmly.

"I don't wanna," Bellatrix replied, smirking. "This feels much more comfortable, and I'm sure the stud here would prefer I stayed like this, right?"

Harry's eyes darted from Bellatrix to Narcissa and try as he might, he could not help but envision Narcissa using her wand to pleasure herself after their date.

His mind played the vision of Narcissa with her legs spread wide and her wand pointed to her womanhood as she cast a spell to stimulate herself.

He firmly closed his eyes and tried to bring himself back under control.

'Fuck, I need to control my libido, but goddamn it's hard when I've got two of them like this,' he thought to himself.

Yet, understanding the situation they were in, he flicked his wand and in no time, Bellatrix was clothed in her previous attire as well.

"Bellatrix, go get changed and we can discuss what we need to," Harry said in as firm a voice as he could muster.

The pouting witch understood instantly and her expression sobered. With an understanding nod, she walked over to her closet and picked out her clothes. Harry and Narcissa watched her disappear inside the bathroom and the door closed behind her.

Narcissa turned around when she heard a sigh, and she stared at the tired visage of the man she loved. Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around him, smiling when he pulled her closer. Her breath hitched, however, when she felt his erection against her lower belly.

"Ah, sorry for that," Harry whispered as he made to pull back. However, Narcissa refused to let him. He was surprised when she tightened her hold around him and pressed herself even closer, voluntarily rubbing her body against him.

"Don't," she replied. "I like it."

Harry's eyes widened slightly before his expression softened and he pulled her close, planting a soft kiss on top of her head.

"What did you mean by it?" She asked softly. "What you said to Bella… about discussing something?"

"Really? That's your first question? Not asking what I'm doing here in your dorm?" Harry asked mirthfully.

Narcissa pulled back and stared up at him in slight concern.

"Something tells me it's all connected," she said, cupping his cheek gently. "What happened, Harry?"

Harry leaned his face closer to the side, earning a smile from the blonde as she began caressing his cheek. He turned his face and planted a soft kiss on her palm.

"Something big. Just… just hear me out before you say anything," he whispered.

More than a little confused, Narcissa stared at him. She nodded just as the door to the bathroom opened and her twin entered, clad in a similar nightdress. Although hers was purple compared to her black, and while hers came to the middle of her thighs, Bella preferred even shorter ones.

Narcissa was slightly surprised when her twin made no quip upon seeing them embracing each other so intimately and her confusion intensified further.

"Ready?" Bellatrix's tone was all businesslike as she reached for her wand and flicked it. They watched the beds get closer and combine into one, large enough for the three of them.

"Bella?" Narcissa asked cautiously.

"After what happened, there's no way Harry would like sleeping alone, Cissy. Believe me," the brunette replied before she added quietly, "I don't want to either."

Narcissa turned her gaze to him, furrowing her brows when he released a tired sigh.

"Let's just get this over with," he muttered.

Bellatrix had already taken her place on one side of the bed and she patted the spot to her right. Sighing once again, Harry led Narcissa over to the bed. They made themselves comfortable with Harry between the two witches, both of whom stared at him caringly.

"You need to work a little on your ideas to cheer people up," Harry remarked, looking at Bellatrix. The brunette stuck her tongue out, coaxing a chuckle from him. "Still, thanks for that little distraction. I'm doing better now."

A warm smile from the brunette was all he got and Harry turned toward Narcissa who stared at them curiously.

"What's the matter, exactly?"

Harry sighed.

"Where to begin…" he muttered. "Alright. Rookwood asked to meet me yesterday…"

Narcissa listened to Harry as he explained how Augustus Rookwood approached him and expressed his desire to join his side. Her shock grew when he told her how Malfoy had arranged for those werewolves to attack them, and so did her ire when she heard what he had planned for both her and Harry. To think that the foul cretin would've made her a plaything for those creatures while killing Harry filled her with rage.

Harry firmly held her against him as he explained how he had managed to tip off the aurors who had struck the werewolves unaware.

"So that's why…" she whispered, earning a nod from him. She turned to regard him with a fierce glare. "He can't get away with this," she hissed. "He and all his cronies who were involved."

"Well, I don't think they are in any position to get away with anything," Bellatrix shrugged. Narcissa glanced at her twin before she refocused on Harry who took her hand and planted a soft kiss on her palm.

"When I dropped you back here, I felt a vibration from the galleon I'd given Rookwood. That's how he told me whatever was going on. Turns out, Malfoy, Lestrange, and a few of their fellow thugs had planned on killing me tonight."

"No…" Narcissa's whisper trailed off.

Harry nodded.

"Turns out they'd been following us since we got back to the castle. I saw the message and led them over to the owlery where no one would've reached us."

"Rookwood sent me the same message and I got there as quickly as I could," Bellatrix added gravely.

"What happened?" Narcissa asked softly.

Harry pursed his lips as he replied, "The moment I got inside, I transfigured a small piece of meat into my replica and left it standing in the middle of the room. Guess I should thank my genetics for being so good in transfiguration. It would've been a challenge for anyone to tell it apart. Once I was done, I used my invisibility cloak and hid in the corner. Those idiots barged in barely a few seconds later and I've got to give it to them. They showed no hesitation and the way they acted, it was clear they'd had a lot of practice in ambush."

Narcissa hung on to every word that came out of his mouth, her rage growing by the second.

"Dozens of cutting curses mutilated that transfigured replica within seconds. I kid you not, even I could not recognize it once they stopped. They were really very very ruthless," he muttered.

"Then?" Narcissa asked dispassionately.

"Then what? They began gloating, Malfoy in particular. How he was so disappointed that I didn't put up a better fight… How I was more pathetic than he'd thought… The usual bullshit. That was it. They cursed the mutilated replica again, and it was quite a variety. Cutting curses, gouging curses, bonebreakers—the whole lot. Nothing but entrails of the replica remained by the time they were done," Harry said dispassionately.

"Those vermin…" Narcissa seethed. "I always knew they were evil…"

Her anger was a quiet one and she was having a tough time articulating her words. Harry held her in his arms, rubbing soothing circles across her back as he tried to calm her. He could feel her shivering in rage, clenching his hand firmly in hers as she gritted her teeth hard.

"They're dead," Harry confessed finally, and immediately, Narcissa's grip loosened. Her eyes wide, she stared at him. Harry gazed back with intensity, his hold on her tightening, as he whispered firmly, "I'd been holding back for so long, hoping that they'd not turn out to be evil and there'd be at least a little bit of hope for them, but after what they did today, I realized there's no trace of humanity in their veins."

"We killed them all," Bellatrix affirmed, earning her twin's attention. The brunette nodded. "Mad dogs like them deserve to be put down, and after what they did, that was the least they deserved. No one fucking plots to have my sister violated by those evil bastards."

For a long while, Narcissa remained silent as she stared at the bed, and Harry frowned.

"Cissa," he said softly, making her glance at him.

"No…" she whispered. "I'm not mad at you two or anything. Don't worry. It's just… a bit shocking, that's all."

Harry nodded.

"Understandable," he replied.

"You really killed them all…" the blonde said softly.

"Rookwood got rid of Nott and MacNair. Bellatrix killed Yaxley and the two Lestranges. I cut off Avery's head," Harry nodded.

"And Malfoy?" Narcissa asked, her voice more akin to a growl instead of her usual calm.

"He's alive still," Harry admitted, earning a furious look from the blonde. "I believe someone else deserves to decide what happens with him."

Realization dawned on Narcissa instantly.

"Where's he?" She asked with a sneer.

"A well-hidden place," Harry replied. "A place where no one will find him."

Narcissa nodded.

"Tomorrow. We'll go tomorrow," she told him.

Harry nodded in understanding and smiled when she burrowed herself in his embrace. His arm tightened around her as he leaned back against the headrest.

Bellatrix watched them with a wistful smile as she sat to Harry's left. She wanted to be with him so much that it hurt, and yet she could not find it in herself to steal him from her sister. She loved her too much for that. She remembered how she had kissed him in the heat of the moment and how exciting it had felt, and she still chided herself for it. Teasing him was one thing but she had truly kissed him behind her sister's back.

She knew she would happily share him with Cissy so that she could be with him, but there was no way she would assert herself between them.

"Bella," Narcissa whispered, staring at her sister. The brunette's eyes widened slightly when her twin took her hand and pulled her closer, burying her with herself in Harry's embrace. Shocked as to what this might mean, she stared at her twin askance. Narcissa merely sighed.

"I love you too much to see you suffer, you idiot," she whispered, to her shock. She watched her twin pull back and softly kiss Harry who kissed her back passionately, pulling her close. Her twin pulled back and regarded her for a moment before she stared Harry squarely in the eyes.

"I love you Harry," she whispered. "I love my sister too. And I know she loves you as well. So I want to hear from you. Will you have both me and my sister?"

Bellatrix and Harry's eyes bugged out as the latter stared at Narcissa in shock.

A surge of emotions rose inside him. His hatred for what the Bellatrix in his previous timeline had done clashed with the adoration he had developed for the Bellatrix in his current timeline. She was not a maniacal bitch out for blood. She was not a blood purist. She was slightly unhinged, but she was not out of control like that madwoman had been.

She had successfully bound Rookwood in an Unbreakable Vow with him, and he knew it required someone to have firm conviction in the subject of the vow to be the binder.

She had openly expressed her desire to be with him and she never missed an opportunity of teasing him. She had stood with him against those junior death eaters and she had proven herself time and again how much she loved her sister and how much she cared for him as well.

This Bellatrix was in no way comparable to that Bellatrix, something Harry had come to realize a long time ago. She was a fun, witty, confident, and lovable young woman who he had come to like a lot.

Harry turned to Bellatrix who, for the first time since they'd met, looked like a deer caught in headlights. She stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth agape, and her breathing labored. Her ash-gray orbs which were so similar to Cissa's were filled with so many intense emotions that made her look more vulnerable than ever before.

"Bella," he said softly, and her breath hitched. He'd never called her that before. He glanced at Narcissa who smiled softly before turning back toward the wide-eyed brunette. "I would love to be with you as well, if you'll have me."

Bellatrix felt like she could fly. Her heart was suddenly filled with such intense emotions that they threatened to overwhelm her. No matter how much of a tease she was or how confident she usually portrayed herself as, right now, she was at a loss for how to react.

A small sob choked out of her throat and it didn't take long for her to break down. Harry quickly wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close, smiling when she clutched onto him hard. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed her heart out, muttering incomprehensible words as she shivered.

Narcissa stared at her twin and try as she might, she could not help but feel her heart fill with tremendous joy at the sight. She knew that under the veneer of outspoken vivaciousness, her twin was a vulnerable soul and there was no other man she trusted more than Harry to shower both her and her twin with all the love and care they could ask for.

"Bella," she whispered lovingly, jerking back when her twin abruptly pulled back and stared at her with wide, teary eyes.

"I kissed Harry today without telling you," she confessed in a shaky voice. "It was in the heat of the moment. I turned around and kissed him before he could even realize what was going on."

Surprised, Narcissa stared at her twin and Harry before she let out a small smile.

"I'm sure you can kiss him now with him knowing what's going on," she replied.

Slowly, Bellatrix turned toward Harry who, for perhaps the first time since he had arrived in this timeline, smiled at her with care and adoration. That was all the brunette needed as she swung her leg over his lap and straddled him. Harry had only a moment to secure his arm around her waist as she grabbed his face and firmly planted her lips on his.

It was a day of firsts, and Harry kissed her with equal enthusiasm. He relished in the soft moan she let out as he kissed her hard, pressing his lips against hers and probing with his tongue. She eagerly allowed him access and met his tongue with hers, instantly engaging it in a ferocious duel within the confines of her mouth.

Nothing else remained to be clarified. She had fallen for this man and he had accepted her. She had remained on the periphery for her twin who also loved this man and even she had accepted for her to be with them. Bellatrix felt that there was nothing else she could want in life as long as she could have them.

Harry could feel himself start to react as Bellatrix gyrated her hips on his lap instinctively and he voluntarily pressed himself against her. He had not wanted to admit it to himself but he had found her as irresistible as Narcissa since the very moment he had realized she was not the mad bitch her alternate self in his previous timeline had been. Everything he had seen of her had endeared her to him and even though he knew he wanted her on his side and not Voldemort's, he was relieved that he would not have to manipulate her.

He would not lie and say that he loved her as much as he loved Narcissa, but there were no doubts in his mind as to how much he adored her. She might be a bit unhinged but she was his unhinged lady now and he would not have it any other way.

"Alright, let's not get too carried away now," Narcissa interjected before things could get too heated. Reluctantly, Bellatrix pulled away from the kiss before a sly smirk grew on her face.

"Already can't get enough of me now, Loverboy?" She teased.

Harry found how further they'd gone when he realized he was cupping her arse over nothing but her flimsy panties under that thin nightdress she was wearing while she'd been eagerly humping her womanhood against his erection. There was a visible wet patch between her legs as she climbed off his lap and her nipples were poking against the fabric of her nightdress, something he realized was to be expected considering she was wearing no bra. The same was true, he realized, for Narcissa who was not wearing a bra either. He could also see how flushed she was as well and he could not help but smirk as he pulled her close.

Bellatrix also pressed herself against him, smiling when he wrapped his arm around her.

"Cissy," she whispered, glancing over at her twin. "Thank you."

Narcissa's eyes softened and she gently squeezed her twin's hand.

"We're two halves of a whole, Bella. I should've realized long ago that you'll follow me wherever I went."

"Two halves of a whole," Bellatrix smiled. "You got that right."

"I've been told this too many times to forget it," Narcissa chuckled. "Still, I'm sure we'll be happy together. Right, Harry?"

Harry glanced down at the twins and their identical ash-gray orbs that stared at him lovingly and he smiled.

"Right."

-Break-

"Where is it exactly, Harry?" Narcissa asked softly from under the invisibility cloak as they walked upstairs.

"We'll be there soon, Cissy," Bellatrix replied in his stead.

All three of them were under the cloak, with their backs pressing against Harry's front as they walked. It made for a tight fit but the cloak extended to accommodate them. Even then, it wasn't as if any of them would have complained about the proximity.

The previous night had been filled with nothing but relaxation and contentment after the adventures of the evening mere hours before they went to sleep, and sleep was all they did. Although it was a bit challenging for him considering he had two very curvaceous women draped over him, Harry had somehow managed.

Not all had been strictly off-hands though. Their hands had indulged in a fair bit of exploration over their clothes and it had come close a few times when they had almost given in to this newfound desire within them to feel each other as closely as humanely possible. However, they relented and went to sleep.

The morning had been an uneventful one if one did not count the obvious erection he had been sporting with his hands full of their shapely rears and Bella's obvious quip on how she would be eager to help him relieve it. It had taken Narcissa intervening to get things moving, and it was indeed necessary. They had matters to take care of.

They reached their desired floor and Harry steered them toward the destination. It was early in the morning and very few students were up and about, leaving them with ample privacy to move as they pleased. Yet, Narcissa had urged the use of the cloak and both Harry and Bellatrix had seen the wisdom in her suggestion.

"Why are we here?" Narcissa asked curiously as they entered through the open doors. Her confusion grew when Harry, instead of replying, removed the cloak from them and put it away.

"Just watch," Bellatrix said with an eager smile.

Narcissa glanced at her twin in confusion before she jumped slightly when she heard a hiss. Eyes wide, she stared at Harry's back.

"Parseltongue," she whispered.

"Indeed," Bellatrix smirked. "Another point in his favor when he talks with grandfather."

They watched how the sink suddenly sprang apart, forming a tunnel that would lead them into a freefall.

"What is all this?" The blonde asked as she stepped forward and leaned over to take in the sight of the dark void.

"The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets," Harry replied.

Narcissa's breath hitched as she turned to him.

"The Chamber of Secrets!?"

"The only one," Harry nodded, smiling. "Parseltongue is required to open it."

"And Malfoy's in there?"

"Seemed like the best place for him," Harry replied.

"That's why you said no one would find him," Narcissa recalled in realization. Harry grimaced slightly.

"Well, let's say there's only one person I know of who could find him in there, but he won't be able to step foot in this castle if I have any say in it," he said firmly. Narcissa glanced at him and nodded.

"How're we getting in?"

Instead of responding verbally, Harry pulled out a shrunken broom and enlarged it.

"Should be enough for us three to make the return trip as well," he said as he mounted it. "Come on, or would you like to slide down?"

Narcissa rolled her eyes as she climbed in front of him. Meanwhile, Bellatrix smirked and climbed behind him, wrapping her arms around his midsection and pressing her bountiful chest against his back.

"I know you love it," she whispered in his ear as she caressed his chest. Narcissa glanced back and merely rolled her eyes as she leaned against him.

"Can't deny the truth," Harry smirked back at the brunette whose smirk widened. Harry did not waste any more time and shot forward, diving right into the abyss as he whispered something in Parseltongue once again, making the witches shiver.

The entrance closed behind them, cutting off the source of light. Instantly, Narcissa lit her wand up and shot the light forward where it flew in front of them, guiding their path.

"Good girl," Harry whispered in her ear, making her grin. The grin vanished the moment she laid eyes on what awaited them on the floor.

"Bones," Harry muttered. "And shed skin."

"What kind of creature could have skin like that!?" She whispered.

"A basilisk," Harry replied. Her head swiveled around to face him and she stared at his serious face as he nodded. "Don't worry, I've taken care of it."

Narcissa could only shake her head as she looked ahead once again.

"You have to tell us everything one of these days," she muttered.

They stopped at the large round door that had a hand engraved on it. However, the fingers resembled snakes instead. Narcissa also spotted a snake on the edge of the door and as Harry spoke Parseltongue once again, the snake slithered around. The fingers cocked back one by one as the snake passed them with a loud clang echoing around the cavern. Finally, a bang sounded as the door opened.

Harry reached forward and pulled it, glancing behind at the two girls.

"Come," he said and began walking.

Narcissa stared around as she walked, taking in the legendary chamber that every student who had ever been a Slytherin had aspired to find one day. Here she was, inside the very chamber that any of her housemates, past or present, and all the alumni, would kill to set their sights on. However, her wonder did not say for long as it was replaced with disappointment at the sight of the damp and dingy room with nothing but mold and algae growing all around.

"Not what you expected?" Harry asked mirthfully as he took in the expression on her face. "Don't worry, Bella was the same yesterday."

He led them forward into the chamber proper and this is where the wonder struck Narcissa. This looked like something that belonged to the legendary founder of Hogwarts. From the massive snake statues flanking the long pathway in the middle that led to what looked like the founder's statue, it was something straight out of someone's fantasies.

They walked forward, and Narcissa immediately spotted the swine. Malfoy was hanging off the ceiling, upside down, with a crude iron chain wrapped around his legs to hold him right above the pond that she could see in front of the founder's statue. The ponce was unconscious, suspended above the surface of the water, and Narcissa hated the tranquil demeanor on his sleeping face.

As they reached the pond, the blonde flicked her wand and a violent fist of water sprung out of the pond and socked the Malfoy heir straight in the jugular, sending him gasping as he was roused from his slumber.

"Ahhhh!" The ponce cried out as he flailed about.

"Nice of you to finally wake up," Narcissa called out in a seething voice as she glared, and slowly, Malfoy turned his eyes toward them. His wide eyes stared at them for a moment, traveling from one to the other before he seemed to recall the events of the evening prior.

"You cunts," Lucius Malfoy bit out, fuming. "Don't think you'll get away with what you've done. You have no idea what you've done. No idea who you've messed with!"

"Your swine of a master will have it soon enough, Malfoy," Harry retorted calmly. "Voldemort. That's who you're so proudly clamoring for, right?"

He relished the look of absolute bewilderment on the blonde ponce's face.

With a feral grin, Harry continued, "Your fucking master, whose cock you assholes choke on every fucking day, will have his due soon, Malfoy. But your turn comes before him."

"H-how…"

"Oh, I know more than you can imagine, Malfoy," Harry seethed. "That filth will fall, and with him, this entire dogma of pureblood bullshit you and your kind spews for all to be disgusted with. Your cronies died yesterday, but I did tell you someone else will deal with you."

Stepping forward, Harry wrapped an arm around Narcissa's waist and pulled her close.

"Here is your executioner, Lucius. I hope you're happy, as this is the most you're going to get from my Cissa here."

Lucius Malfoy seethed. He glared at the bastard before his eyes fell on the bitch.

"Get on with it, you slut," he hissed, and Narcissa's eyes narrowed further. On Harry's other side, Bellatrix glared hatefully at the bastard as she brandished her wand. Harry quickly took her hand and shook his head, making her click her tongue in annoyance but put her wand away.

"I should've recognized the filth in you, you bitch," Malfoy continued. "The filth of your blood traitor sister must have run deep. A fucking shame, what's happened to the new generation of the Blacks. A bunch of blood traitors and mad cunts. I guess it's my fortune you found your place with the filth you deserved instead of desecrating the walls of Malfoy Manor, tainting it with every disgusting mudblood breath of yours."

Narcissa stared at Malfoy emotionlessly, further adding to his ire.

"Still got your mouth choked with that bastard's dick, you whore? Can't speak now?" He cried out. "I would've given a fat load of galleons to see you getting choked by those werewolves as they passed you around like a spliff. That's what you deserve for sullying yourself with filth."

Harry and Bellatrix were standing with their hands clasped, and both could feel the other's rage given how tight their grip was. Narcissa, meanwhile, stayed perfectly calm and composed as she gazed at the bound and hanging form of Malfoy with emotionless eyes.

"Harry," she said softly. "Where is the basilisk's corpse?"

Although slightly surprised, Harry was more intrigued.

"Inside that pond," he replied.

Narcissa nodded.

"Can you get rid of all the water from the pond, please?"

Shrugging, Harry waved his wand and created a small vacuum that sucked out all the water from the deep pond, leaving at least a fifty-foot deep trench with the basilisk's corpse at the bottom.

Lucius' eyes widened at the sight of the creature and he could do nothing but stare. He blinked when suddenly, a blue glow enveloped the creature and it began to rise.

A foreboding feeling overtook him as he tore his eyes from the ascending corpse and stared at the blonde who had her wand pointed forward, its tip glowing blue as she commanded the corpse to rise.

"What are you doing, Cissa?" Harry asked curiously, looking down into the trench. The corpse was more than halfway up.

"Nothing less than he deserves," she said dispassionately. The corpse kept ascending and they kept watching until it rose above the level of the chamber floor. Malfoy's face was a mere two feet away from the corpse and he shut his eyes firmly.

"Scared?" Narcissa called out icily. "I've not even done anything yet."

Malfoy kept quiet, his eyes shut firmly.

Narcissa scoffed silently to herself as she waved her wand, and a set of chains emerged from the floor, wrapping around the basilisk's corpse and keeping it upright in the air, its face a mere two feet away from Malfoy's.

"Come on, let's go," she said as she turned around, and Harry could only shake his head in wonder.

"You, girl, are my twin," Bellatrix smirked as she linked her arm with her sister who merely stared at her in amusement.

"Let him stay alive," Narcissa said as they walked toward the exit. "He shall spend all his time now with the horrifying sight of that basilisk's open maw right in front of his face. Let's see how long he can keep his eyes closed."

Without another backward glance, the threesome exited the Chamber of Secrets.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

Together with Narcissa and Bellatrix, Harry walked down the stairs toward the Great Hall for breakfast.

They had finished taking care of Malfoy some time ago, or rather Narcissa had, and they had long put it all out of their minds.

Harry had to admit he felt much lighter now that he had taken care of something he should have done a long time ago. His conscience had been arguing against what was necessary, and in one way, he was glad that Malfoy and his lackeys had pulled that foolish stunt to give him the chance to go after them.

He knew he had taken a massive step toward ensuring Voldemort did not gain power as easily as he had done in the previous timeline. Back then, he had easily ensnared several pureblood houses and controlled the Wizengamot by proxy. Those purebloods made up a significant chunk of his inner circle – purebloods he, Bellatrix, and Rookwood had taken care of.

Voldemort was not going to be an easy foe to face, but now they had a significant advantage over him.

The corridors were swarming with students either on their way to or back from the Great Hall, and several curious glances were directed their way. He knew he and Narcissa had been seen together in Hogsmeade and that it would now be common knowledge that something was going on between them, and to be frank, both were done keeping this private. They already had her father's approval and there was nothing they needed to be skeptical of, as evident by the way Narcissa was walking close to him with their hands clasped together.

Bellatrix was a different matter though. They might be together as well now but she was still an unattached witch as far as the lord of her house was concerned, and as such, it would not be polite as per societal customs for them to seem closer than they should be. Harry hoped for the situation to resolve soon but he knew it was not going to be easy.

Cygnus Black might have agreed for him to be Narcissa's intended, conditional upon the approval of Arcturus Black, but it was impossible for him to give his other daughter away to the same man. There was no political advantage for either him or his house in such an arrangement. There were a few ways to resolve the issue but they would have to wait.

As they entered the Great Hall, they felt the eyes of scores of students on them. Harry spotted Augustus Rookwood sitting at the Slytherin table and raised an inquiring eyebrow when the boy looked at him. Rookwood gave him a subtle nod, earning a smirk from him.

'Good lad,' he thought, averting his eyes.

Ignoring the curious cats, they walked over to the Gryffindor table where his friends sat together, staring at them with their eyes full of surprise.

"No one wants to see your half-eaten food, Prewett," Bellatrix remarked as she slid in beside her twin and started fixing her breakfast. Gideon quickly closed his mouth and started chewing.

"Harry, mate, mind explaining?" Frank asked with a teasing grin.

Harry glanced up and snorted.

"I think it's pretty clear, don't you?" He asked, turning toward Narcissa who smirked and leaned forward, meeting him halfway. It seemed as if all chatter died down across the Great Hall as everyone stared at Narcissa Black and Harry Peverell kissing each other in public.

Slowly, they pulled away with matching grins and Harry turned to his friends.

"What about now?"

"Crystal," Frank nodded with a grin before he turned to the twins. "If only everyone had the balls to go ahead and get his girl…"

The twin concerned scowled and immersed himself in his breakfast as Harry snorted.

"Care to clue us in as well, dear?" Narcissa asked, amused.

"Don's got hots for one of the snakes," Harry grinned. "Who was it? Rosier, right?"

"Olivia Rosier?" Bellatrix asked in surprise. "Oh boy…"

Immediately, Gideon's head snapped up and he fixed the brunette with a serious stare.

"What do you mean?" He asked quickly, his eager expression quelling immediately at Bellatrix's unimpressed stare. "Miss Black…" he added belatedly.

"Nothing much, I just heard a few things about her, that's all," she replied, smirking.

Harry shook his head in amusement.

"Quit teasing the poor lad, Bellatrix," he intoned. "What is it?"

Bellatrix glanced at Harry with a grin and replied, "Heard her father's thinking of arranging a betrothal for her. I'd rush it if I were you, Prewett."

Gideon's eyes widened and he quickly glanced over at the Slytherin table where Olivia Rosier sat with a few of her friends.

Harry stared at Bellatrix with a raised eyebrow, chuckling when she stuck her tongue out and grinned. He leaned over and whispered, "You're one manipulative snake. You really needed to play with him like that?"

"A little push in the right direction never hurt anyone," Bellatrix replied smugly. "Just look at us."

Both Harry and Narcissa smiled as they leaned back. They'd be the last people to disagree with it.

"What's up, you twats?" A familiar haughty voice sounded out, making them turn around.

Sirius Black's eyes bugged out as he stared at none other than his cousins sitting at the Gryffindor table and he stopped in his tracks.

"What'd you call us, you idiot?" Bellatrix hissed menacingly, making the Black heir take a step back. Grinning sheepishly, Sirius raised his hands in surrender.

"W-what are you two doing here?"

"Eating. Can't you see?" Bellatrix retorted calmly as she bit into her slice of bread.

"Y-yeah, err… right. Bread tastes good?"

"Just sit down, you doofus," Harry rolled his eyes, chuckling.

"I will… agree to that, yes," Sirius nodded emphatically and sat down right in front of them, with James and Remus sitting on either side and Peter sitting beside Remus.

"I see things worked out for the best," James remarked, not missing the closeness between Harry and Narcissa.

"More than best, I'd say," Frank remarked, smirking. "Those two don't shy away from putting on a show. Matter of fact, you all just missed it."

"You snogged my cousin in front of all these people!?" Sirius asked, aghast, before a wide grin overtook his face. "Way to go, Harry-boy!"

Harry chuckled as he exchanged a high-five with Sirius.

"That ain't all either. Someone didn't come back to the dorm last evening. Not saying anything but you have to wonder what he was up to," Fabian said teasingly.

"You popped her cherry already!?" Sirius whispered, aghast. He hissed when James elbowed him in the ribs.

"It's your cousin you're talking about, you know that, right? And she's sitting right here," Narcissa remarked with a raised eyebrow, her fork pointed at her cousin who waved his hand dismissively.

"Bah! Anything to rub in that poncy cunt's face. Speaking of cunts, where's Lucy and his prats?"

Harry, Narcissa, and Bellatrix immediately put on normal faces, at least as much as they could.

"No clue, maybe crying in a ditch somewhere over his loss," Bellatrix shrugged.

"Sounds like him," Sirius grinned. "I mean what I said, Harry. I'd give everything if you could keep my cousin here far from those assholes. And you, I mean it. This guy's the best you can do. Trust me."

"Well, thanks for that endorsement," Harry chuckled as Narcissa smiled at her cousin and nodded.

"Don't worry, I know," she replied.

Sirius grinned at his cousin and dug into his breakfast.

"What's up with you, Remus?" Harry asked, noticing the boy looking at the Slytherin table. Surprised, Remus turned to Harry and shook his head.

"Nothing, just noticed none of Malfoy's group are there. Normally, they all sit there together, but it's just Rookwood, Mulciber, Rowle, and the two buffoons today. Oh, and Snape, but he's sitting far away from them."

The name of Snape immediately soured James' expression, something Harry noticed instantly. He met the boy's eyes and nodded reassuringly. James pursed his lips and went back to his breakfast.

Things had not been great between him and Lily ever since his confession. Prideful idiots that they both were, they had taken to pretending as if the other didn't exist and they often ignored each other whenever they happened to cross paths.

It had created a cold atmosphere in Gryffindor, so much so that students not in the know had also started noticing.

"It's a bit weird. Think they're up to something?" Fabian asked curiously.

"I couldn't care less, to be honest," Harry replied dismissively. "I went easy on them last time. If they decide to act up just because Malfoy lost someone he considered an object then I won't hold back this time."

"As much as I'd like it, don't kill them, Harry," Sirius snorted. "Too much headache."

Harry chuckled and went back to his breakfast, giving Narcissa's thigh a soft squeeze under the table.

A few minutes passed in relative peace as they chatted amongst themselves while eating. Narcissa and Bellatrix fit into the group as if they'd always been there, joining in poking fun at Sirius, and Gideon's crush on Olivia Rosier. Bellatrix wasted no opportunity in reminding the lad about the fake news of a betrothal being on the horizon and Harry knew the witch was taking a sadistic pleasure in teasing the poor lad. He did interfere a few times to console Gideon but he let her do as she pleased. Hopefully, it would help the guy out in his pursuit.

Sirius was not spared either. He was also reminded, quite curtly by Narcissa, how he needed to man up and ask McKinnon out if he was truly interested in her. As always, Sirius brushed her words off but they could see him getting more and more concerned that he might truly lose her should he do nothing.

Harry knew his issue. All he needed to do was take his head out of his ass and admit to himself that he had the hots for McKinnon. Based on what he had observed so far, McKinnon liked Sirius but did not want to be with someone unsure about them. There was also the fact that Sirius used to be sort of a womanizer until last year, but the issue had seemingly been resolved this year when he suddenly quit chasing skirts around the castle.

All of it seemed very tedious to both Harry and Narcissa, and they simply told Sirius to be honest with himself or he would regret it for the rest of his life.

They were almost done with their breakfast when they heard a slight commotion at the front of the Great Hall. They frowned when they saw Dumbledore talking to Slughorn and McGonagall with a curious look on his face.

"What's up with that?" Frank asked curiously.

"Guess we'll know soon enough," Harry replied as Dumbledore stood up from his spot and made his way over to the podium. The old wizard did not need to ask for attention as he already had it. All students and staff alike were staring at the headmaster.

"A small announcement before we disperse for the classes, if I may," Dumbledore began. "Professor Slughorn has brought it to our attention that several students from Slytherin are missing from the castle. Lucius Malfoy, Rudolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, Thomas Avery, Corban Yaxley, Walden MacNair, and Theodore Nott have all been reported to be missing from Hogwarts grounds. Their parents will shortly be informed of their disappearance. Meanwhile, if any student has any knowledge of their whereabouts, please report to your head of the house at the earliest. That is all."

The students started whispering and chattering as Dumbledore went back to his seat.

"Well, guess that answers your question," Harry remarked.

"I didn't expect them to sneak out of the castle," Frank intoned in surprise. "They came back to Hogwarts last evening with the others, right?"

"Didn't see them," James shook his head. "You guys?"

"Nah," Sirius replied. Remus and Peter followed suit.

"Didn't see them in the Common Room yesterday," Bellatrix intoned. "And these two were busy enjoying each other. Don't think they had eyes for anything else."

Their friends chuckled as Harry and Narcissa exchanged an amused glance with Bellatrix.

"I bet they're up to no good," Sirius continued with a sneer. "Knowing them, they must be out there terrorizing some poor child or a pet. Sadistic cunts, those Lestranges in particular. Seen them bullying kids too many times now."

Harry nodded, his keen eye fixed on a certain someone sitting at the Slytherin table.

Augustus Rookwood stood up alongside the rest of the junior Death Eaters as Slughorn asked them to follow. Their eyes met, and Harry gave the boy a discreet nod. Rookwood blinked in acknowledgment and turned around, walking behind Slughorn out of the Great Hall.

They had done what needed to be done, and it was now time to witness the fallout. Harry did not know how much he might get entangled in the mess, but he was by no means scared to find out. He and Bellatrix exchanged a firm look with each other as they got up, and together with the rest, they walked alongside the other students out of the Great Hall for their classes.

-Break-

Several pureblood lords woke up around England and prepared to go about their day as usual. A few were either having their meals or were about to leave their family manors when their house elves interrupted them.

Abraxas Malfoy frowned mid-bite at the sight of his house elf who bowed and held up a sealed envelope for him. Chewing slowly, he gestured for the elf to leave it on the table. The poor creature dutifully obliged and vanished.

Putting his fork on his plate, he wiped his mouth and reached for the envelope. A frown overtook his features at the familiar sigil of Hogwarts with his name addressed on it.

He broke the seal and pulled out the sheet of parchment, scoffing at the flamboyant header that listed Dumbledore's name and his list of accomplishments.

"That old fool will never change," he muttered distastefully and started to read.

His eyes slowly narrowed as he went through the letter and he grinded his teeth, trying to make sense of it all.

His son was reportedly missing with no one being the wiser. Six other students, all of whom he knew very well, were also similarly nowhere to be found.

"What's this mess now…" he muttered as he got up, his half-eaten plate left on the table, as he walked over to the fireplace.

Grabbing the floo powder, he entered the fireplace and was swallowed by a swirl of emerald flames.

The blonde patriarch of the Malfoy family emerged out of another fireplace a few seconds later, and his eyes took in the collection of wizards in the office of the headmaster of Hogwarts.

"Dumbledore," he called out, gaining the attention of every lord, professor, and the old wizard himself.

"Lord Malfoy," Dumbledore greeted politely.

"What is the meaning of this, Dumbledore?" Abraxas asked curtly, waving the parchment in the air. "My heir is missing? Where did he go?"

"That's what I've been asking, Abraxas!"

Abraxas Malfoy glanced over at Lestrange who was sitting on one of the chairs, accompanied by Nott who sat on the other. MacNair and Yaxley sat on the other set of chairs to the left while Avery sat to the right, leaving a chair vacant, presumably for him.

"What the hell is going on, Dumbledore?" Lestrange growled.

"Lord Malfoy, if you would please take a seat," Dumbledore sighed.

Abraxas Malfoy pursed his lips but did as he was asked to. Sitting straight, he placed the parchment on the desk and stared at Dumbledore.

"Professor Slughorn brought to my attention this morning at breakfast that seven of his Slytherins were missing from the castle. They did not return to their dormitories last night. I have asked the students to inform their respective heads of houses if they know anything."

"Let me get this straight," Abraxas intoned with forced calm. "You are saying that seven sons of pureblood houses disappeared right under your nose… hours ago… and you had no clue? What do you take us for, Dumbledore!?"

"I assure you, Lord Malfoy, them being sons of pureblood houses does not change the fact that they are students of this castle and thus, not subject to be kept tabs on every hour of the day. Contrary to popular belief, I am not aware of everything that goes around this castle. No one is," Dumbledore replied calmly.

"Don't speak of our sons' disappearance as if it were some everyday occurrence, Dumbledore!" Lestrange hissed. "We all entrust you as the headmaster to ensure their safety during their stay in this castle."

"I am aware of my responsibilities, Lord Lestrange," Dumbledore replied.

"Not too well, if this massive lapse on your part proves anything," the man retorted. "I want my heir and spare back, Dumbledore! All of us do! Our sons are the future of our houses! You won't like it if anything happens to them, I'm warning you!"

Dumbledore straightened in the face of the threat and gazed straight at the Lestrange lord who leaned back slightly and gulped. The portraits shouted at the insult leveled at the headmaster of the school while the professors in attendance either frowned or glared at the man. Meanwhile, the two wizards stared at each other and Abraxas sighed.

"I understand these are emotional times, Lord Lestrange," Dumbledore said calmly. "I assure you everything shall be done to get to the heart of this matter."

Right on cue, the floo flared and everyone turned to see who had entered.

"Alright, Albus. What's the matter? I was in the middle of something," Alastor Moody, accompanied by a tall, dark-skinned man, emerged from the floo. The aurors took in the rest of the occupants of the office and Moody sighed. "This one's gonna be a pain in the arse, I can tell."

"Alastor, thank you for coming promptly," Dumbledore greeted as the room and the table enlarged. Two more chairs emerged out of thin air and Moody walked over with his partner, taking a seat.

"Yeah, cut the chit-chat. What's the matter?"

"Our sons are missing, Auror," Lestrange spat, glaring at Dumbledore. "Missing since last night, apparently."

Moody glanced at the Lestrange lord before he looked around at the rest of the lords. He sighed, "Okay. And?"

"What do you mean And?"

"Well, you can't expect me to solve this problem with only that, can you?" Moody retorted. "Tell me everything."

"Horace reported this morning that seven of his Slytherins did not return to their dormitories yesterday, and they have been missing this morning as well," Dumbledore repeated.

"It was Hogsmeade weekend yesterday. They returned to the castle?"

"We don't know yet. We have asked the students to inform us if they know anything."

"Yeah, fat chance of that happening," Moody scoffed. "No student in their right mind would come forth and say that they saw missing students before they went missing. Anything else you got for me?"

"Well," Slughorn spoke, earning their attention. "A few of their friends mentioned they didn't see them return to the castle with the rest of the students."

"What?"

"I asked Mr. Rookwood, Mr. Rowle, Mr. Mulciber, and Mr. Snape about the rest of them. The latter three did not go to Hogsmeade while Mr. Rookwood said he returned early to study for his OWLs."

"Hmm…" Moody mused thoughtfully. "First, there was that attack Lord Peverell told us about, and now seven students are missing. Something doesn't add up."

"Peverell?" Abraxas interjected pointedly.

Alastor Moody glanced up and replied curtly, "We received a tip-off yesterday that werewolves were spotted near Hogsmeade. Lord Peverell asked us to be on standby and wait for his Patronus. Did a favor to us, that lad."

"What are you saying, Alastor? That the two events are connected?"

Moody frowned.

"Well, I can't say anything for sure, but it's entirely possible they are. It's too much of a coincidence, innit?" He replied before he turned to the pureblood lords. "Those werewolves we apprehended had fresh bloodstains all over them. I won't rule out anything if I were you."

Their eyes widened in shock.

"Auror Moody," Abraxas said in a voice shaking with rage. "My heir is missing, and you are saying he might be dead. I would very much appreciate it if you got to investigating it as soon as you can."

Nott furiously held Lestrange down on the chair. The man's face had turned red in rage and it was a miracle how he was able to stay silent. The others' faces had gone ashen as the fact that their heirs might be dead registered with them.

"What happened with the werewolves, Alastor?" Dumbledore asked gravely.

"They were there to attack Lord Peverell and his companion. He somehow knew about the attack and told us to anticipate it in advance. The moment he sent his Patronus, we arrived and took those creatures down."

"PUT THOSE BEASTS DOWN!" Lestrange exploded, his eyes bulging and he slammed his hands on the table, rattling it. "THOSE FILTHY BEASTS! THEY DARED PUT THEIR HANDS ON MY SONS! WHERE THE FUCK ARE THEY!?"

"Lord Lestrange, calm yourself!" McGonagall cried out in alarm.

"DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO, WENCH!" Lestrange roared, glaring at McGonagall who glared back heatedly. "MY SONS ARE DEAD! KILLED BY THOSE BLOODTHIRSTY ANIMALS!"

"We do not know for certain, Lord Lestrange," Dumbledore interjected, wandlessly casting one calming charm after another. "I implore you to control your emotions and let the aurors do their job."

Lestrange seethed, gritting his teeth, as he slammed into the chair, falling back against it, almost helpless.

"My sons…" he whispered, almost broken.

The others might not have exploded as violently, but the rage, the fear, the sense of loss, and the helplessness enveloped them, keeping them rooted to their spot. They could feel themselves shaking and shuddering every few seconds, replaying the auror's words in their minds.

"Auror Moody," Abraxas said in a whisper, yet his voice carried around the office. "I want my son back."

Moody stared at the Malfoy lord with pursed lips.

"We will investigate this. You have my word. For all your sakes, I hope the two incidents are not connected."

"Where are those werewolves?" Abraxas gritted out.

"Azkaban," Moody replied curtly.

A chair slammed to the ground as Abraxas stood up, and everyone stared at him.

"I shall be taking my leave now," he said, firmly keeping a hold on his emotions. "I shall await further news. I hope I won't have to wait."

Without greeting anyone or bothering to say anything, Abraxas Malfoy turned around and walked into the fireplace. He was enveloped by emerald flames once again as he vanished, emerging out of the fireplace in his solar.

As quickly as his footsteps could carry him, he rushed toward the tapestry that displayed the Malfoy family tree and frantically searched for his son's name. A sense of massive relief washed over him when he discovered his son's name still etched prominently on the fabric.

He pressed his hand on the name and leaned against the tapestry, breathing heavily.

"Lucius…" he whispered. "You're alive."

His Lucius was indeed alive, although he wished he wasn't.

Just as he had been for hours now, he gasped out in terror once again as he opened his eyes and stared right into the maw of one of the most terrifying creatures he had ever seen.

The Basilisk's mouth was open wide, its teeth as large as his palm, and that was everything he could see.

He was trembling, his breathing shallow and his heart beating a million times a minute. His vision was fading at times, often causing intense bouts of headaches as he couldn't see anything apart from what was in his direct line of sight.

Helplessness and despair overwhelmed him and he often found himself slipping into unconsciousness, only to shout in alarm whenever he woke up again and saw the terrifying sight.

His voice had long given away, only mewls and gasps escaping his mouth, and the more time passed, the more the realization that he was truly alone and left to rot in this place set in. There was no way for sunlight to reach this place he found himself in. As such, he had no idea how much time had passed. It surely felt like days though, if not weeks.

His stomach rumbled in hunger and he felt lightheaded every time he regained consciousness. He had long given up on struggling against his binds. There was nothing he could do right now to free himself from this predicament, and he had already given up on the situation.

He had been angry at first, but he soon grew detached when his associates died. His detachment had given way to regret. He truly should have not messed with Peverell. He should have let him have Narcissa instead of fighting over the matter. And he truly should not have done what he and his associates had. It all had come back to bite them in their sorry arses, and they had no one but themselves to blame.

-Break-

The group of gathered lords and professors dispersed soon after Abraxas Malfoy's departure, leaving Dumbledore with Alastor Moody and his auror partner Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Tell me more about the werewolf attack, Alastor," Dumbledore intoned gravely.

Moody sighed.

"The auror office got a letter from Peverell last evening, informing us that he'd seen a pack of werewolves hiding in the woods near Hogsmeade."

"And he asked you to wait for his Patronus?"

"The lad seemed compassionate," Moody shrugged. "Said it won't be right to attack marginalized creatures if they were simply hanging out in the forest and not going to act up."

Dumbledore nodded.

"They acted up, and Peverell sent a patronus. The rest… well, you know already."

Turning toward his partner, Moody instructed, "Tell them to scour the entire forest. I want full report on whatever there is. If those boys have really been targeted by those werewolves, we'll find something."

Kingsley nodded and they watched him leave through the fireplace.

"What are you thinking, Albus?" Moody enquired shrewdly.

"Something does not feel right here," Dumbledore replied.

"Speak plainly, Albus. I don't have time for your dramatics," Moody scowled.

"I can't help but think Mr. Peverell is somehow involved in all of this mess," Dumbledore said plainly.

"What makes you think so?" Moody asked suspiciously. "Anything I should know about the lad?"

"That is the thing, Alastor," Dumbledore sighed. "It is a feeling I have about him. That he is more than he lets on. That he is hiding something."

"Well, he won't be the first to hide something. That's how people are," Moody shrugged.

"You know what I mean," Dumbledore frowned. "I do not have such feelings for everyone, but there is something peculiar about him… something that rubs me off the wrong way."

"Tell me, Albus," Moody muttered. "Did you try to preach something to the lad and he told you to piss off?"

Dumbledore remained silent, making Moody snort.

"There's your answer. I've called you out on this habit many times before. You can't expect everyone to follow your ideals or even agree with them, and not everyone who disagrees with you is shady. You have this habit of suspecting anyone who shows even a hint of a trait you fundamentally disagree with. What is it in his case?"

Dumbledore frowned.

"His parents were killed by Voldemort," he replied.

"The maniac you told me about? That Tom fella?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"We talked about it, and he intends to kill Tom and anyone who follows him."

"He said that to your face?" Moody laughed. "Tough sod. I gotta commend him for the balls."

"An eye for an eye makes the world blind, Alastor," Dumbledore said curtly.

"There you go with your philosophical bullshit again. Albus. I've told you many times not to try that on me," Moody retorted. "That bastard killed his parents. You can't exactly expect him to sit on his arse and do nothing. Good for him, I'd say, if he wants to fight against those maniacs."

Dumbledore sighed. He knew talking about it with Alastor Moody was useless.

"I'll be taking my leave now. Gotta start somewhere. Interrogating those mutts would be a good first step," Moody said as he stood up. "You, you better think for yourself. Are you letting your bias cloud your judgment of this lad? To me, it's clear you are. Have a good day, Albus."

Dumbledore watched him disappear inside the fireplace and pursed his lips, drumming his fingers on the table. He knew Alastor had a point. He was truly letting their previous interaction affect his reasoning when it came to Harry Peverell, and yet, he could not let go of the niggling voice in the back of his mind that told him that there was more to the lad than met the eye.

Sighing, he leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes. Seven students were missing from right under his nose and he had been none the wiser. He could not help but feel responsible for their disappearance and all he could do was hope that they were safe.

-Break-

Miles away in the woods around Hogsmeade, a contingent of aurors was scouring the area where the werewolves had traversed through.

One division of aurors jerked up at the sound of a whistle and they looked over to see a signal from the other team, indicating that they had found something.

Kingsley Shacklebolt instructed his team to follow and he led the way to the designated spot. As they arrived, their eyes shot open at the sight that greeted them.

Limbs were strewn about, bellies torn asunder, and skulls caved in. The claw marks were clearly visible on the mutilated corpses.

"How many?" Kingsley asked.

"Six, sir," one of the aurors replied gravely. "The descriptions check out. Apart from Lucius Malfoy, we have all the others here."

"I see," Kingsley muttered. "Secure all the evidence. I'm heading back."

The aurors got to work as Kingsley twisted on the spot and apparated away.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

WEREWOLF TERROR IN HOGSMEADE - PUREBLOOD ELITE MASSACRED

By Tabitha Bulstrode, Senior Correspondent

In a vicious and tragic attack that has rocked our nation's wizarding community, six upstanding pureblood gentlemen were savagely killed by what authorities are calling a "pack of rabid werewolves" in the Forbidden Forest on the outskirts of Hogsmeade village late last night.

The deceased have been identified as the Lestrange brothers Rodolphus and Rabastan, Theodore Nott, Thomas Avery, Corban Yaxley, and Walden Macnair - all proud members of the sacred twenty-eight pureblood families. Lucius Malfoy, who had been visiting Hogsmeade with the group, is still unaccounted for.

While little is yet known about the motivations behind this unspeakable act of brutality against wizards of the highest pedigree, the blatant anti-pureblood slant cannot be ignored. Is this the work of a radical faction aiming to eliminate the elite upperclass of our community? Were these fine upstanding citizens targeted for their unwavering stance against the eroding pureblood way of life? The possibility that this was a hate crime motivated by anti-pureblood bigotry and intolerance toward our customs must be investigated fully and fairly.

The utter savagery in which these men were torn limb from limb is a sight this reporter wishes could be unseen. Heir Rodolphus of House Lestrange was allegedly disemboweled, with his entrails scattered among the pine needles of the forest floor. His younger brother Rabastan was found with claw marks so deep they very nearly severed his head from his body. The other victims' remains were equally as gruesome – massacred in a vicious frenzy of tooth and nail one could scarcely imagine possible outside the deepest pits of Azkaban itself.

In my years reporting on the comings and goings of high society, rarely have I encountered a group as principled and charitable as Messrs. Lestrange, Nott, Avery, Yaxley, and Macnair – nor a pureblood patriarch as distinguished and benevolent as Lord Abraxas Malfoy. Should the worst be confirmed regarding his son's fate, the loss will be felt globally by all who admire his magnanimous leadership in reinforcing the traditions that remain the bedrock of our Wizarding Society.

At last, this reporter has to ask severe questions of those who govern us.

When even the most prominent wizarding families gather under moon's light and are not safe from such unthinkable violence, what hope is there for the rest of the wizarding populace?

The Ministry of Magic must take tangible action to protect those fortunate remaining houses with pureblood heritage before this escalates beyond repair. The authorities must wake up to the horrifying reality afoot before more are massacred. These killed tonight were of the highest lineage - but make no mistake, we are all next in the crosshairs. No witch or wizard is safe until adequate action is undertaken. No pureblood should ever again have to fear what stalks our forests at night.

"Well, she went for everyone's throats," Harry mused as he threw the Evening Prophet on the table and resumed his breakfast. "Who's she, by the way?"

"One of the Prophet's crime reporters," Narcissa replied. "The Bulstrode family is one of the Sacred Twenty-eight. The article reeks of pureblood agenda."

Harry nodded absentmindedly.

"I think they will begin cracking down on the werewolves after this," he mused thoughtfully. "Forcing them to register and imposing severe punishment if one doesn't."

Around him, his friends shared the same sentiment and Harry did not miss how Remus tensed slightly.

'Hopefully this should make the werewolves hate the pureblood supremacists even more. The fewer werewolves that join Tom's cause, the better it would be for everyone,' Harry thought to himself. A setback like this was tolerable if it meant reducing the number of those creatures in Voldemort's ranks, and if it happened to push over a few of those creatures to their side then it was a welcome bonus.

"Similar to the Animagus law, just… more oppressive," Narcissa nodded. Harry glanced over at James and the rest of the Marauders with pursed lips. They were taking a massive risk in this endeavor of theirs. He knew it was necessary because of the war but there was a risk nonetheless. One misstep on anyone's part and they all would find themselves in Azkaban—a fate he'd die before he let it happen.

"The law is already discriminatory enough, which is why werewolves are so disgruntled. This will worsen the situation and public opinion will be even more against them. Pureblood heirs have died. The Wizengamot won't like it and the lords will push for a change."

"Mass derision and brainwashing breeds radicals. We have enough of both in our society. The situation is going to worsen. I can tell you all that much," Bellatrix intoned with a casual shake of her hand.

Harry caught Remus' eyes and gave him a reassuring nod, silently asking him to keep calm. The boy, understandably nervous, gulped and nodded slowly.

-Break-

"Their corpses were found in the clearing. Evidence suggests that they were killed by the werewolves and the severity of injuries also pinpoint to this fact. It looks like an open and shut case," Kingsley Shacklebolt intoned solemnly.

His boss and the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Bartemius Crouch, perused through the report submitted to him, nodding.

"I'll be the one to decide that," Crouch replied curtly. "All the werewolves are accounted for?"

"Yes, sir," Kingsley nodded. "And all the missing students apart from Lucius Malfoy."

"Yeah, I gathered as much from that article," Crouch said with distaste. "Those bastards must have a mole in the department to get information so quickly."

Kingsley remained silent.

"Where is Alastor?" Crouch asked, not taking his eyes off the parchment unfurled in front of him.

"Here," a firm voice called out and finally, the man looked up to see the best auror in the department arrive.

"You reek, Alastor," Crouch remarked.

"Blame the dementors for that," Moody replied and threw a scroll on the desk.

"And what is this now?"

"All the evidence you need," Moody replied. "Blood reports from the DoM. Perfect match."

Crouch's eyes widened slightly as he read the report and he pursed his lips tightly.

"This definitely seals it," he nodded. The report corroborated the fact that the blood found on the clothes of those werewolves was indeed a perfect match with the blood of the deceased. "And those creatures haven't turned back yet?"

"I don't think they ever will," Moody replied. "Feral beasts. That's permanent transformation. Greyback's work."

Crouch wrinkled his nose in disgust and threw the scroll away.

"Send it all to Bagnold then. She can handle those pricks on her own."

"You know what this means, right?" Moody asked keenly, earning an exasperated look from his boss.

"It's unfair, yes. But there's nothing we can do about it."

Moody frowned but nodded, watching Shacklebolt as he collected the evidence and took his leave, leaving him with Crouch in the office.

"Sit, Alastor."

Alastor Moody complied, gazing at his boss with a raised eyebrow.

"Patrol and monitoring in remote areas will have to increase from now on. You know the legislation that's coming shortly. It would have serious consequences. There is no way those creatures would accept the law without protest."

Moody gave a curt nod.

"Nightly patrols are to be increased tenfold and keep a tight monitoring around known werewolf hotspots. I want eyes on them at all times."

"Training will have to increase," Moody replied. "The radicals can't be allowed to organize. We'll need to use overwhelming force to put down any signs of insurrection before it spreads beyond control."

"Precisely," Crouch nodded. "Our force is good but they need to firm their balls even more. The ambush last time worked thanks to Peverell but he won't be there all the time to give us the heads up. I don't have much quarrel with those beasts but if they show even a hint of rebelling, I want them crushed without mercy."

"Consider it done," Moody replied, a twisted smile crossing his face as he gripped his wand tightly. "I've had my sights set on a few select pups for a long time now. It'd be good for everyone if we finally have an excuse to put down rabid beasts like Greyback and his ilk for good."

-Break-

"Meet me outside the place in about half an hour," Harry told Narcissa whose eyes flashed. She nodded in understanding and walked away with Bellatrix, leaving Harry with the Marauders. He gestured for them to follow him and led the way toward the Gryffindor Common Room.

There was a stillness in the castle. A silence that was in no way oppressive or filled with sorrow. Instead, it was peaceful and tranquil. Students were indeed shocked with the news but barely anyone dwelled too much on it. Even if they did, sorrow was the furthest emotion they had on their minds.

Their walk to the common room was relatively uneventful if they ignored the gaggle of young students wandering the corridors excitedly.

"The castle already looks a much livelier place now with that lot gone," Sirius commented as another group of firsties rushed past them. "Fair play to those werewolves, I say."

"Padfoot…" Remus sighed.

"You know I didn't mean it like that, Moony," Sirius replied quickly as they entered the common room. "But just look around you. Tell me it's not better that those lot have kicked the bucket. I can't imagine anything good happening with them around anyone."

"On point, Padfoot," James nodded his agreement. "Now if only the rest of their sorry lot could leave permanently then it'd be great, thank you."

As they took their seats near the fireplace, Harry quickly cast a privacy charm around them and spied Lily staring at James with a frown. Their eyes met and the girl quickly averted her eyes, looking at Alice who she was sitting with.

"Marlene's still not spending time with Lily, it seems," he remarked. James pursed his lips and pointedly stared at the fire. "Any idea about that, Sirius?"

"Why're you asking me?" Sirius asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harry sighed and shook his head. "Forget it. That's not why I asked you all here anyway."

Turning to Remus, Harry smiled sympathetically.

"You shouldn't worry about anything happening to you, Remus. We're all with you, no matter what happens."

Immediately, everyone sobered up and nodded toward Remus who let out a resigned sigh.

"Me being here is already pushing it a lot. If what you all were saying does happen then there's no way I can stay in the castle. You all know that."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," James asserted firmly. "You better quit moping about it already. For all we know, nothing like that might happen."

"You really believe that?" Remus asked with a rueful chuckle. "Let's face it, James. The bigots on the Wizengamot have been looking for a reason to go after the werewolves. It's what they do and believe is right. To them, good werewolves don't exist. I'm sure they must've been wanting to do something about it. Well, now they've got the perfect excuse to bring those creatures under their boot."

There was a perverse silence as everyone stared at the floor, aware that the boy was speaking nothing but the truth.

"In a way, I understand them. Pick ten werewolves and at least six would be evil bastards who deserve to be put down. But what about the rest? They're victims! They don't deserve to be marginalized, or be treated like criminals even when they've done nothing," Remus continued. He never raised his voice or expressed the anger they knew he was feeling inside. His voice was grave, almost resigned, as if he had accepted what he was saying a long time ago.

"Nevermind," he sighed. "Nothing's gonna change. They finally have the opportunity to make permanent enemies of all the werewolves and nothing will stop them."

'And that's exactly what this was for,' Harry thought to himself as he pursed his lips. 'They must hate pureblood supremacists with every fiber of their being. Every prospective supporter of Voldemort will agree with this legislation if it is proposed. That's a guarantee.'

"Listen, Moony, and listen well," James began firmly. "No matter what happens, nothing's happening to you. You hear me?"

Remus simply shook his head with a rueful chuckle.

"We'll just have to see, won't we?"

"We will," Harry nodded firmly. "And there's something I want to talk to you guys about. Something important."

He shared pointed looks with James and Sirius whose eyes widened a bit.

"What is it?" Remus asked curiously.

Harry pursed his lips as he looked around, watching the crowd of students around them.

"It's a bit serious, so not here," he replied. "Let me get the others as well and meet me in the abandoned corridor to the north end of the castle. Fourth floor."

"The only corridor beyond the portrait of that bloodied knight?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded as he stood up. "Get Frank and the twins, will you? I'll meet you all there in half an hour."

Everyone watched Harry as he dispelled the privacy charm and walked out of the common room.

"What's he being so secretive about?" Remus mused aloud. James and Sirius shared a look and nodded. It seemed Harry had decided to bring everyone into the fold.

-Break-

The whoosh of the broomstick indicated the displaced air as they descended together down the tunnel and in no time, the threesome landed in front of the massive metal door depicting serpents for a hand.

"For a sec, I thought that broom would break," Harry remarked, chuckling when he was swatted on either arm by the two girls.

"You ever insinuate we're fat again and it'll be even harder," Narcissa said curtly, turning away from him.

"But I never called you two fa—that!" Harry corrected himself hastily under their twin glares. "All right, fine. My fault."

Grumbling under his breath, he shrunk and put the broomstick away before approaching the door.

A whisper of Parseltongue took care of the enchantment and they watched as the snake slithered around the circular door. With a loud clang, it opened and Harry pulled the door.

"Let's get to it then," he muttered and stepped inside, followed by Bellatrix and Narcissa. They traversed through the dingy tunnels until they were in the chamber proper and not for the first time, they stopped to stare at the marvel that the Chamber of Secrets was.

"It's so magnificent. It's a shame this place is not reachable without a Parselmouth or more people don't know about it."

"Some things are better left forgotten, only to be mentioned in legends," Harry replied. "And magnificent ain't the world I'd use to describe this place. No offence."

"That's because you're a foolish lion who can't appreciate the beauty of snakes," Bellatrix replied haughtily. The girl suddenly yelped when she felt him pull her flush against him. Her eyes wide, she stared at him as he kept her firmly against his front.

"I wouldn't be here with you two if I couldn't appreciate just how beautiful my dear snakes are," he replied, planting a small kiss on her lips. Bellatrix flushed brilliantly as he released her before kissing Narcissa as well. Pulling back, he smirked at the look on the brunette's face before he turned to the far end of the chamber, his expression sobering.

"Now then, let's get to why we came here in the first place," he muttered. The twins quickly schooled their features and nodded, falling in step beside him as he led the way to the statue of Slytherin where the Basilisk's terrifying maw was magically held open right in front of Lucius Malfoy's face.

"It stinks here," Narcissa muttered distastefully, casting a freshening charm around their heads.

"No wonder it does," Harry replied, gesturing toward Malfoy. The two girls followed his gaze and grimaced. "He's pissed all over himself. Feeding Salazar's basilisk his urine. How brilliant."

"He's passed out as well," Narcissa said disgustedly. "Should I do the honors?"

"Be my guest, love," Harry nodded. He watched with Bellatrix as the blonde stepped forward, her wand held aloft, before she gave it a quick flick. A loud smack rang out as Malfoy's face was jolted to the side, a deepening red handprint appearing on his cheek. Narcissa flicked her wand a few more times in quick succession, delivering more slaps and watching disdainfully as the asshole gasped, his eyes shooting wide.

His body lurched against its bindings as he set his sight on the basilisk's gruesome mouth once again.

"You should get used to that sight by now, Malfoy," Harry called out without even an ounce of pity in his voice. This asshole deserved the worst for all he'd done and would have been doing if he'd not had his fangs yanked off.

Lucius could barely hear the voices over the ringing in his ears. He had been feeling lightheaded for hours now without any food, water, or clean air to breathe. That was not to mention that he'd been hanging upside down for Merlin knew how many hours now, or had it been days? He didn't know, but it had not been pleasant. All his blood had rushed to his head and had remained there, rendering him unconscious for the better part of his confinement here in this terrifying place and perhaps even sending him on the verge of death. It was a miracle he'd managed to survive for so long.

"We won't be long here, Lucius," Harry continued. "And as much as all three of us would like to put you out of your misery, you deserve to suffer until you die. It wouldn't have been like this, you know? I would've let you keep living your wretched life, but you had to make it personal, eh? Sucks to be you now, I guess. But at least I didn't leave you without any company here, right?"

Lucius simply hung limply against his binds, his eyes closed. He earned nothing but looks of disgust from all three of his enemies.

"There's something I'm looking for, Lucius. Something I believe you can give me. Don't worry though, I won't make you work for it. We all know you're a lazy son of a bitch who can't get anything done without your wretched father's help. Nah, man. I can get it done in no time."

Lucius Malfoy did not even react when Harry lifted his wand and forcefully intruded into his mind. His state was so vulnerable right now that his minuscule Occlumency defense had all but fractured, paving an easy path for Harry who discovered everything he wanted from him.

Mere seconds later, Lucius slumped over even further, succumbing to unconsciousness once again, and Harry lowered his wand, a look of resignation etched on his face.

"It is what it is then," he muttered. Turning around, he looked at Narcissa and Bellatrix and nodded. "I've got what I wanted. Let's go now."

"What about him?" Narcissa asked, glaring at the hanging figure. Harry glanced over his shoulders and pursed his lips.

"He'll die within a few hours, maybe even less. The lack of blood to his vitals has already started fatally affecting him and it'll be the point of no return soon. We can either leave him or get it done right now. Your choice."

Narcissa stared at Malfoy for a few seconds before she curled her lips in distaste. Her hands wrapped around his and Bellatrix's and she pulled them with her as she walked away.

"Let nature run its course then. We're done here."

-Break-

The Marauders found Frank with the Prewitt twins in no time and together, the seven made their way across the castle to the designated corridor where they found Harry waiting for them alongside Narcissa and Bellatrix. No one batted an eye at the presence of the two girls, fully aware of Harry's relationship with the former. The latter was her twin so her presence made perfect sense as well, even though she made a few of them uneasy with her spontaneous demeanor.

"Come on," Harry instructed them to follow and led them over to one of the classrooms at the end of the corridor. They stepped inside and Harry immediately conjured chairs for them all with a large table in the middle. "Sit down, guys."

"What's this all about, Harry?" Fabian asked, looking around.

"Is this about the deaths?" Frank enquired curiously.

"No need to be impatient, guys. I just wanted to have a little chat with you all," Harry replied. To their surprise, he pulled out a moleskin pouch from his pocket and pulled out a large bottle of butterbeer and mugs for them.

"Wine?"

"Now, before you guys get ahead of yourselves, this isn't to celebrate their deaths," Harry began. "I just thought we could have a pint or two while we talk."

"Won't find me complaining either way," Sirius chimed in as he reached forward and grabbed the bottle. In no time, everyone had a mug of butterbeer in front of them. "Cheers!"

Amused, Harry took a few large gulps and watched everyone follow suit.

"All right then, what'd you wanna talk about?" Gideon asked as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

Harry leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table, and looked around.

"A few of you know this already, but I think it's high time you all know this as well," he began. "I'm sure you all have heard about a certain pureblood movement slowly gaining traction in the society. Hate speech against muggles, muggleborns, and half-bloods has never been more fanatically motivated and rampant, and the number of bullying cases of certain individuals has been escalating rapidly."

"Are you mainly talking about Malfoy and his now dead pals?" Frank asked curiously. "They've been like that since they arrived here."

"I know. There's a section of our society who we call pureblood supremacists and they've always held on to their shitty beliefs, but in the past year or so, the situation has worsened. That is not to mention the talks of more repressive laws against muggleborns that are becoming more and more loud as time passes. I'm sure you all know what I'm talking about."

"What is going on exactly, Harry?"

His lips pursed, Harry exchanged a look with James and Sirius and sighed.

"My parents were killed by a dark wizard when I was an infant," he began, ignoring how numerous eyes widened around the table. He continued to explain what was going on behind the scenes, what Voldemort's goals were, how he was influencing purebloods across the country, and who he believed were already in cohorts with him.

By the time he was done, the arms of multiple chairs were being gripped harshly, knuckles white. The expressions on several faces were of sharp focus. A few looked horrified as the sheer magnitude of what was unfolding behind the scenes dawned on them.

"In the end, all he wants is power for himself. This bullshit ideology of pureblood supremacy that he's using is nothing more than a tool for him to incite hatred and use it for his nefarious ends" Harry's turquoise eyes were flinty. "It all comes down to one thing. Fight. It's us or him. He won't hesitate from killing anyone who dares stand in his way, and as much as we might hate it, we'll have to make the decision. Fight, or be killed. Running isn't an option. Neutrality isn't an option. There is nothing we can do but fight this evil."

There was utter silence pervading the classroom and Harry watched his friends staring at him with nervous looks that slowly transformed into determination. He was glad to see all his friends were steeling themselves for what awaited them in the near future.

"So this is why you're so capable," Frank remarked gravely. "You've been preparing for the day you have to fight him."

"I can't rest knowing that my parents' killer is out there plotting mass genocide and untold amount of terrorism that could put Grindelwald's crusade to shame. If he's not stopped, he'll destroy it all. A madman's whims know no boundaries, and his cruelty is unmatched," Harry replied, smiling when he felt Narcissa and Bellatrix sitting on either side of him squeeze his thighs reassuringly.

"We'll need to start preparing for it then," Fabian intoned firmly. "Training, mastering lethal and protective spells, warding, the whole shebang."

"We will," Harry nodded. "James and Sirius have known about it since the summer. I met the Potters and shared with them what I knew. These two asked for some help to get started. I hope you two are keeping up with it all?"

He earned nods from the two boys, prompting him to let out a small smile.

"So that's what those spell practice sessions were about," Remus whispered in realization as he gazed at James who nodded.

"I told them not to share anything with anyone unless something significant happened," Harry said, staring at Remus. "Now that those assholes are dead, things might start to worsen. It's better now for you all to know so you can realize what's coming."

Although he didn't like being kept in the dark for so long, especially by those he considered his best friends, Remus did not pursue the matter any further. It was pointless to argue about the timing when they had much bigger concerns.

"We were going to try for auror school after Hogwarts anyway. Any advanced training would only help us out with our goal," Frank remarked, earning nods from the Prewitt twins.

Harry glanced at the Longbottom heir and nodded. The last time, he and his wife Alice had been tortured by the three Lestranges and Crouch Jr. for information on Voldemort's whereabouts. There was no way he would let the events play out in a similar fashion. He had already taken care of three culprits from back then, and there was nothing to fear from them anymore.

Bellatrix started slightly when she felt Harry take her hand under the table and she glanced at him. Her eyes softened when she saw the tender smile on his face and she squeezed back, a warm feeling pooling in her stomach.

Harry turned back to his friends and nodded resolutely.

"The authorities must be aware of what's coming. The signs are there for all to see and rumors are rampant within pureblood circles. With this recent werewolf attack, we'll see the legislature get involved more seriously than before, and it should trigger further actions. There is nothing we can do about any of that, so it's better we leave the aurors and the ministry to take care of matters on their end," he continued, and they all were hanging on to every word he was saying. "What we can do is work on our magic and combat skills as much as we can. We also need to get word out amongst the masses about what's coming so that more and more people can start getting prepared for it."

Resolute nods were exchanged around the table as Harry leaned back and took a sip of his butterbeer, relishing the taste of the beverage. He exchanged a look with James and Sirius who gazed back firmly. He smiled, knowing how motivated they all were.

However, there was something he believed was necessary for them to learn if they wanted to survive this war. They needed to be vigilant, and to realize the gravity of the situation before they were blindsided in the field of battle. He would've preferred to do it in some other way but both Bellatrix and Narcissa had agreed that it was better to just get it over with.

"Before we leave here," Harry began. "There are a few questions I want to ask someone here."

Curiosity was the most prominent feeling around the table as they stared at Harry who pivoted slightly to his left.

"Hello, Peter. You mind if I ask you something?"

Surprised, Peter stared at Harry who was gazing at him with a small smile. His eyes darted around, only to find everyone's eyes on him. He turned back to Harry and shook his head.

"Nice," Harry grinned, but Peter felt no mirth in those glowing eyes of his.

"Tell me, Peter. Have you been meeting anyone from Malfoy's group since this past summer?"

Alongside everyone apart from Harry, Narcissa, and Bellatrix, Peter's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the amused visage of Harry Peverell.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

Everyone apart from Harry, Bellatrix, and Narcissa stared at Harry with wide eyes before they slowly converged on Peter who was staring ahead in shock, as if he could not believe what Harry had just said. Meanwhile, Harry remained entirely composed as he gazed at the short wizard even though he was anything but.

“What did you just say, Harry?” Sirius asked, being utterly serious for once. There was no hint of amusement on his face as he gazed disbelievingly at Peter who looked as if he’d be anywhere but here.

“Let him answer, Sirius,” Harry replied calmly as he gazed at Pettigrew. “Now Peter, please answer me. Have you been meeting anyone from Malfoy’s group since this past summer?”

Peter tried with all his might to compose himself and let out a disbelieving chuckle, fully intent on denying it.

“Yes, I did.”

His eyes shot open in further shock as the truth forced its way out of him. He stared, disbelievingly, at Harry whose lips curled in a sneer as he gazed at him. Meanwhile, the rest of the Marauders looked as if someone had pulled the rug from under their feet. Their disbelieving eyes were trained on their friend who sat there, gaping like a fish out of water.

“The fuck are you on, Wormy!? You were meeting Malfoy’s cronies this summer!?” Sirius cried out in shock.

“Yes,” Peter’s mouth seemed to have a mind of its own. His entire body was shaking, confusion overtaking him. He could not fathom what was happening or how. His throat had dried up and he coughed, hastily grabbing his beer mug and taking a larger-than-normal swig out of it. Harry’s eyes glinted as he slammed the mug on the table.

“Who did you meet, Peter?” Harry asked calmly, and no one dared to interrupt, all staring at the spectacle with disbelief and growing rage, simmering with betrayal.

“Lucius Malfoy and Thomas Avery,” Peter was forced to reply once again, his eyes wide in shock. He couldn’t understand what was going on. His mouth was betraying him and he had no clue as to how it was happening. His eyes were affixed on Harry and he saw his meaningful glance at the mug of butterbeer in front of him. It took a few seconds for realization to dawn on him and he gasped, staggering in his seat.

“How many times did you meet them?” Harry asked; his faux-amicable demeanor all but vanishing in an instant. His glowing orbs glared at Peter with utter revulsion.

“F-four times,” Peter whispered, knowing he was doomed now.

“And you met them because you wanted new friends, I presume?”

“No.”

“No?” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Then what was it about, I wonder?” His voice gained an edge to it as he continued, “Was it about you joining their side when the time came? You know about Voldemort and what his plans are, don’t you? And you were to be their spy in all of this, am I right? Just say Yes or No for each question.”

“Y-yes. Yes… Y-y-yes…”

“You motherfucking scum!” Sirius cried out and shot out of his chair. His vicious fist connected with Peter’s throat, sending the rotund boy tumbling over to the floor, gasping and clutching his throat. “You bastard! You… you… We did everything for you! We became your friends when no one would! And that’s how you repay us! Turning traitor at first chance, and for fucking psychopaths, no less! How dare you, Wormtail!”

Enraged beyond belief, Sirius slammed his boot right on Pettigrew’s face, crushing his nose. Blood shot out of the injury, staining his shoe and slowly pooling on the floor as everyone stared dispassionately. James and Remus were still in their seats, gripping the arms of their chairs tightly. Harry could see the latter growling and gritting his teeth and he held himself back. They needed this.

“Sirius, let Harry get everything out of him,” Bellatrix said with a glare at the cretin who was still gasping on the floor, holding his fractured nose and his throat with each hand.

Sirius snarled and violently kicked Pettigrew in the midsection, knocking the breath out of him. Breathing heavily, the Black heir staggered back and Frank slowly pulled him back in his seat.

“Fuck you, Wormtail!” Sirius hissed. “I should kill you right now, send you to join your dear friends you would’ve sold us out to!”

Peter stayed on the floor, gasping and moaning in pain.

Narcissa waved her wand in an arc and he was lifted in the air. Slowly, she deposited him back in his chair.

Harry continued, “What criminal acts have you committed? What did you do to prove to Malfoy and Avery that they could trust you?”

Everyone listened with bated breaths, their ears peeled as they glared at Pettigrew who was visibly struggling, doing everything in his power to stop his mouth from working.

Harry glared and flicked his wand, forcing his mouth open and stopping him from biting his tongue off.

“Answer, you swine,” he hissed. “What did you do to prove your loyalty?”

“K-k-k-k-killed a m-m-mudblood.”

Gasps were sounded across the table as they either turned away in disgust or glared murderously at him.

“And what did they promise you for your services?” Harry hissed, his rage oozing off him in waves of magical discharge. He was breathing heavily, his eyes narrowed into slits, glaring.

A fearful look crossed Peter’s face as he stared at Harry’s lethal face. The answer forced its way out of him in a whisper.

James’ grasp on his anger loosened entirely. For so long he had been keeping himself in check, to not give in like Sirius had, but now… he couldn’t. A red haze clouded his vision and before anyone could react, he lunged out of his chair and hauled Pettigrew up with a harsh grip on his collar.

He kneed him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him for the second time in minutes, before throwing him harshly against the wall.

“You dare!” James hissed maliciously as he punted Pettigrew. The boy cried out, multiple teeth flying out as blood splattered James’ shoe and the floor. James showed no quarter. A stinging jab crashed against Pettigrew’s chest who grunted in pain, before a pulverizing body shot sent him doubling over, making him gasp and weep pitifully.

No one stopped him, not after what Pettigrew had just admitted.

“You think you could touch a hair on her head!?” James roared. “You think you could get close to her, you cunt? I’ll kill you right now!”

Pettigrew feebly tried to shield himself from James’ furious blows, his efforts all futile. Thudding blow after blow punished his rib cage as James vented his rage, spitting at Pettigrew as he slid down the wall and slumped to the ground.

He hauled his beaten foe upright, propping him up to tee off with one last sickening blast - a bone-crunching uppercut that whiplashed the traitor's head violently. His eyes rolled back as he finally crumpled into an unconscious heap.

James was left breathing heavily, his fists clenched in a harsh grip on his shirt as he glared at Pettigrew. He felt a firm hand clasp his shoulder and glanced over to see Harry staring at him in understanding.

“What’s happening, Harry?” James asked with a shuddering breath and Harry firmed his hold. His heart broke at the sight on his face but he forced himself to stay resolute. They needed this, both so they could not be blindsided by Pettigrew and to truly realize how ugly the situation could be.

Slowly, he steered the other boy back to his chair where both Sirius and Remus took charge of supporting him. Harry smiled thinly and walked over, retaking his seat between Narcissa and Bellatrix.

“I got to know everything about him right before coming here,” Harry started, earning everyone’s attention again. “There are a lot of things going on behind the scenes right now and as much as it hurts me to hide things from you all, I hope you understand my reasons after this.”

Sirius slammed his palms on the table, glaring as he looked at everyone in sight.

“We need a vow. An Unbreakable Vow,” he hissed. “Nothing less will be worth our trust now, not after this. If anyone has any problems, fuck off right here and now and we’re through.”

“I agree,” Bellatrix was quick to respond, nodding as she turned to Harry. She reached down and took his hand, clasping it with hers. “We all have to do it. We need to make sure we’re all on the same side in whatever conflict is coming. There can be no excuses here.”

Harry ran his eyes across the table and saw everyone nodding in agreement. This betrayal had shaken them, although none more so than the three Marauders who still shook at times in rage and pain.

“This is extreme,” he stated plainly. “But I can’t deny the peace of mind it would grant us. Are you all absolutely sure though? It would mean you are fully committed to fight in the war that’s coming our way, and I don’t need to tell you what it would be all about.”

“You’re right,” Frank nodded with utmost seriousness. “You don’t need to tell us anything. We’re doing this, right here, right now.”

“We can’t keep doubting us if we’re going to be in life-threatening situations,” Gideon said gravely. “It’s obvious that those here in this room are some of your most trusted allies, Harry. We’re going to be in the heart of any conflict, simply because we’re your friends or family. We need to trust each other, and even though we do already, it’s better to be doubly sure.”

Everyone gave disgusted glares to the unconscious form of Peter Pettigrew and Harry nodded resolutely.

“Alright then. We’ll take Unbreakable Vows.”

-Break-

“You three deserve to decide what happens to him,” Harry said gravely as he turned around and gazed at the three Marauders. “No matter what you three decide, no one will judge you in any manner. That is a promise.”

Outside the door, everyone nodded in agreement.

With a parting glance, Harry shut the door and joined Bellatrix and Narcissa.

“I’ll see you guys later,” he told Frank and the twins who nodded and walked away.

“What do you think they’d do to him?” Narcissa asked Harry who stared at the closed doors with a small frown.

“I truly don’t know,” he sighed. “Whatever they decide, I hope they don’t regret it.”

He felt them take his hands and smiled.

“Let’s leave them to it.”

Together, they walked away, leaving the Marauders in the room to deal with one of their own.

Inside the classroom, James glared at the unconscious form of Peter Pettigrew with utter loathing, ignoring Sirius who paced agitatedly to his right. He could feel Moony trying to control the wolf inside him – something he had been doing ever since the revelation that one of their most trusted friends had turned traitor and joined forces that had the intention to bring untold amounts of horror on innocents.

His disgust reared its head once again when he recalled what Peter had been promised and he had to force himself not to reach for his wand and use a few spells Harry had taught them.

“He can’t live,” Sirius stated emphatically. “I don’t care what you two have to say but he has to die.”

“Can you do it?” James asked emotionlessly. “Can you kill, Padfoot?”

Sirius remained silent, glaring at the unconscious wizard.

“You, Moony?”

Remus’ growl was the only answer he got and he smiled mirthlessly.

“We can’t do it, Padfoot. He deserves it. He deserves even worse than death for what he did and would have done. But… but I can’t do it…”

Sirius gritted his teeth powerlessly, knowing James was right. None of them had it in them to take a life, especially the life of someone who used to be one of their most trusted confidants not even an hour ago. Everything had been turned on its head in no time and they were still reeling from those revelations, not knowing what the correct recourse was.

“He can’t be left to continue either,” Remus spoke for the first time, his voice gravelly as he glared at Pettigrew.

Suddenly, James shot to his feet, glaring, and Sirius paused in his stride, his eyes firmly gazing at his brother in all but blood. On the other side, Remus also stood up, joining them in the middle.

“His form is a rat. Fitting, don’t you think?” He whispered in disgust as he flicked his wand and Pettigrew was immediately forced into his animagus form. Another flick of his wand conjured a glass jar and James quickly charmed it to be unbreakable.

“Confinement it is then,” Remus muttered as he levitated the rat into the jar and James easily sealed it, leaving a small hole for the rat to breathe. “Here. Gimme it.”

James handed the jar over to Remus and he watched with Sirius as the boy traced his wand over it, inscribing a rune that magically glowed before getting imprinted on the surface.

“That would hold the unbreakable charm on this jar as long as there is ambient magic around it,” Remus intoned, handing the jar over to James who nodded and put it in his moleskin pouch.

“Where would you put that bastard?” Sirius asked, glaring at the unconscious rat in the jar.

“I’ll hand it over to the only person who can keep it safe and away from anyone looking too much into this,” James replied curtly. “Whatever happens to him is none of our concern. Harry will handle things from now on.”

Remus and Sirius nodded resolutely as they trailed after their friend as they walked out of the classroom.

-Break-

“Abraxas, please have a seat.”

Abraxas Malfoy nodded curtly and sat down in front of the Minister who poured a glass of firewhiskey and slid it over. He sighed and reached out, nursing the alcohol as he gazed at the woman.

“Things are getting bad,” Bagnold muttered. “This attack by the werewolves was entirely unexpected, and to—”

“I couldn’t care less about those filthy beasts and how their mind works, Millicent,” Abraxas interrupted with a sneer. “My son, my heir is missing. I want him back.”

“Believe me, the aurors are hard at work in locating your son.”

“Well, tell them to work harder. What’s the use of funding their department if they can’t do as much?”

Millicent Bagnold sighed as she gazed at her old friend. He looked visibly distraught and she could fully understand his emotions. She had been under a lot of pressure after having been visited by all the lords who had lost their sons in the recent attack and a few others who had expressed their concerns, asking for new legislation to be introduced against werewolves and other magical creatures who could pass as humans so that a repeat didn’t happen. An emergency Wizengamot session had indeed been called for the next day and she could already see the impending complications. The creatures won’t be happy and she knew Crouch’s reaction already. The auror department would need another budget allocation which meant issues with other departments who’d have their funding cut short. It was all too tiresome at times.

A knock sounded at the door, cutting off her reply, and Bagnold glanced at the Malfoy lord who pursed his lips but did not protest. The door opened and she saw it was Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of the finest aurors at their disposal.

“Minister,” Kingsley greeted respectfully, glancing at Abraxas who stared at him expectantly.

“Auror Shacklebolt,” Bagnold nodded and accepted the folder from the dark-skinned auror.

Abraxas frowned when she sighed. Before he could say anything, she gazed at Kingsley and asked, “This is final?”

“Yes, Minister,” Kingsley replied solemnly. Bagnold released a deep breath and nodded.

“And there are no additional findings?”

“Not yet, Minister. The forces are looking into it though. Any news and you will be informed promptly.”

“Thank you, Auror Shacklebolt.”

Kingsley nodded and with a parting glance toward Abraxas Malfoy, he turned around and walked away, shutting the door behind him.

“What is it? Please tell me they found my heir,” Abraxas asked urgently, frowning when Bagnold sighed.

“The investigation has concluded, Abraxas. The deaths were indeed caused by the werewolves,” she replied. “Even the blood reports confirm the fact. All six samples show a match.”

“Six?” Abraxas asked pointedly. “Not Lucius, you mean. He wasn’t killed by those beasts then, right?”

Bagnold nodded.

“The aurors are searching for your son and I’m positive that they’d find him soon,” she said consolingly.

“There needs to be consequences for this, Millicent,” Abraxas intoned firmly. “Rogue beasts like those werewolves can’t be allowed to do as they wish. The ministry needs to crack down on creatures like them.”

Bagnold, who was reading through the folder, frowned before she paled.

“Merlin…” she whispered. “Those were Greyback’s beasts!”

“What!?” Abraxas’ eyes widened in shock.

“Transformation induced by substance abuse,” she continued, her eyes wide. “That’s the telltale sign of Greyback’s influence.”

Abraxas’ mind was reeling. His lord had expressed his desire to recruit Greyback to their cause, proposing to make suitable offerings for the aid of his pack in their crusade. For some of his pack to attack a group of pureblood heirs unprovoked signaled an opposite response to what they wanted.

“That fucking scum…” Abraxas hissed under his breath. “He will have to answer for this crime.”

He had a hard time believing that Greyback had truly given his pack the leave to attack pureblood heirs but that did not absolve him from the crime that the beasts under his command had committed. Still, there was a way of knowing for sure.

“Did you interrogate those beasts? Did they tell anything about my son?”

“The transformation of the werewolves we captured is permanent, Abraxas,” Bagnold sighed. “It’s impossible to extract any answers from them in any manner.”

Abraxas gritted his teeth in helplessness, his concern for his son rising along with his rage at the entire situation. If Greyback had truly done this then it meant he was choosing to stand against them. It took away a powerful ally, dealing a massive blow to their cause which was further worsened by the demise of the heirs of some of the most prominent pureblood houses in Wizarding Britain.

He could only imagine the reaction of Lord Voldemort when he got to know about it all. He had informed them that he would be overseas for a few months and would be arriving in Britain in a week or two. No matter what though, one thing was for certain. His lord would be livid with how the situation had unfolded.

Abraxas was suddenly interrupted when he felt a response from the charm he had placed on the Malfoy family tree and his eyes widened. Bagnold watched as the man pulled out a folded sheet of parchment from his pocket and unfurled it on the desk.

“Abraxas?” She asked searchingly as she watched all color drain from the man’s face. The parchment fell on the desk as he stared disbelievingly at the sheet.

“I-I apologize… I uh… I need to go,” he whispered shakily, getting out of his seat, shivering.

Bagnold stared at him in visible confusion and she winced when his shaking hand pushed the glass of firewhiskey over the edge of the desk. The glass shattered on the floor as the man staggered to the door and fumbled with the handle. Millicent quickly flicked her wand and the door opened, not that the man noticed anything as he slowly walked out of the office.

Curious as to what he had seen, she reached out and pulled the large parchment toward her.

“The Malfoy family tree?” She whispered in confusion before her eyes widened. “Surely not…”

A gasp escaped her lips as she saw what Abraxas must have seen. A blank where a certain individual should be.

Lucius Malfoy was also dead.

-Break-

“Are you sure you want to do this, Harry?” Narcissa asked with obvious skepticism as she stared at her boyfriend who was poring over his notes, scanning his calculations once again.

“I’ve been working on this for months now, Cissa. Trust me, this is necessary,” he replied. Arcturus had devised it for him in the previous timeline, leaving the final details for him to sort out. It was necessary since the place in which he performed the ritual would count for the final calculations.

Hogwarts was the perfect place for this endeavor as its ancient walls were brimming with latent magic that would boost the effects he would attain from the ritual by a significant margin, at least that was what he had theorized in his calculations.

With the situation escalating at a fast pace, he needed to do something to bridge the gap between himself and Voldemort as much as he could. No matter how well he had trained under Arcturus or how well he had been doing on his own ever since arriving here in the past, it was an undeniable fact that as he was now, he could perhaps last for a while against Voldemort but he could in no terms outlast or overpower the bastard.

“Then we’ll do it too,” Bellatrix replied, earning looks of surprise from both Harry and Narcissa.

“What?”

“You heard me,” she replied without missing a beat. “We’ll do this ritual too.”

“There’s no need for you to go through this,” he said with a frown which deepened when she scoffed.

“Who are we, Harry?”

“What do you mean?”

“What are we to you?” She asked patiently, sighing when he stared at her in confusion. Slowly, she walked over until she stood beside him and leaned over, gently cupping his cheeks and tilting his face upward so she was looking into his eyes. “We’re your girlfriends, Harry. You accepted us both in your life, and whatever the situation might be, we all know we want to spend our lives together, right?”

Harry nodded. Bellatrix smiled softly.

“We’ll be in as much danger as you, my love,” she said softly. “Not only because we’ll be fighting against him, but because of how close we are to you. Tell me this Voldemort guy won’t try to harm us to get to you.”

Harry pursed his lips as Bellatrix stepped back, joining Narcissa who was now staring at the notes on the table. He had to admit that she had a point, and no matter how capable they were right now, undergoing a ritual would enhance their abilities.

“There’s a complication though,” he sighed. “I worked on this ritual with myself in mind. You already know the sacrifice. I’ve no idea how it would impact women.”

“No worries,” Bellatrix squeezed her twin’s shoulder confidently. “I’m sure you and Cissy can work together to modify it so it suits us.”

Harry glanced at Narcissa and asked softly, “What about you, Cissa? Do you really want to do this? You know what it could cost.”

Narcissa had been thinking about it for a while and she nodded shortly, earning an understanding look from her boyfriend.

“Alright, here’s how we’ll do it,” he replied. “I’ll do it right now and we’ll get to you two after that. There’s no need for all three of us to do it at the same time.”

“Makes sense,” Bellatrix nodded. “You want any help?”

“Nah,” Harry replied as he stood up and picked up an ornate knife that appeared on the table. “I have to do it all on my own.”

The twins watched Harry as he walked over to a small cleared space in the middle of the room and dropped to his knees. A thin cut on his finger opened a wound and blood spurted out of it. Harry traced the finger all over the hard floor of the room, ignoring the sting of pain as he drew intricate runes on the solid stone beneath him.

“This is unlike anything I’ve ever seen,” Narcissa whispered in awe as she stared at the runic sequences Harry had drawn on the floor, all in his blood. He worked slowly and meticulously, ensuring to not let even the slightest of missteps hinder him. Even the smallest of mistakes could cost him dearly.

It took him over an hour to draw the runic sequences on the floor that resembled a seven-pointed star in blood. The complicated structure had demanded quite a lot of blood and he had to keep making several cuts on his fingers to keep the blood flow steady. He was feeling a bit lightheaded but the ritual demanded it.

“He can’t have a Blood Replenishing Potion either,” Bellatrix muttered, staring at his notes in her hands now.

“Yeah, can’t let any form of healing magic come into contact with me right now,” Harry replied as he stood up. “So, how does it look?”

“Show this to the runic society and you’ll earn a mastery in an instant,” Narcissa replied, visibly impressed. Harry smirked at her.

“Thanks, I try,” he replied. The blonde merely rolled her eyes.

“Just get on with it already.”

“Don’t mind me if I do.”

They all knew it’d never happen anyway. This was blood magic in ritualistic form – magic frowned upon by the ministry who would not hesitate in chucking him off to Azkaban and keeping him locked there forever. They couldn’t, but the principle remained all the same.

Harry stepped right into the pentagon in the middle of the seven-pointed star and turned to his girlfriends.

“This is going to be painful,” he whispered and brought the knife to his palm. He made a long gash and the moment blood gushed out, he smeared his palm into one of the five smaller segments between the pentagon he was standing in and the longer segments that connected to the points of the star.

He could feel himself getting lightheaded and his hands were shaking in protest, but he persevered and pushed through his body’s reluctance. Stopping right now would have catastrophic consequences.

Narcissa and Bellatrix watched with visible grimaces on their faces as Harry grew paler by the second as the runes demanded more and more blood which he continued giving, painting all twelve segments in crimson. By the time he was done, he was breathing heavily and shaking. The toll the blood loss had taken on him was obvious.

“Still want to go through this?” he gasped, smiling at the twins who stared with pursed lips.

“Just finish this quickly,” Narcissa sighed.

Knowing it wasn’t anything they hadn’t seen before, Harry took his clothes off and threw them away, standing naked in the middle of the star. He pressed his bleeding palm against the pentagon in the middle and the runes sucked his blood greedily. The space around his feet and under them bubbled up, covered in his blood, and he let out a tired smile as the runic star glowed an ominous shade of crimson.

“That’s good,” he breathed out. “That’s very good.”

He pulled out a small transparent jar from his pocket containing crushed components of Thestral bone mixed with Thestral hair and scattered it all over the runic sequence, watching how the grayish powder was submerged under the blood.

Satisfied, Harry began chanting softly, “Ens sanguinis mei, accipe sacrificium meum sed parce mihi duobus, dona benedictiones dignas te!”

Repeatedly, he chanted until he felt the throbbing in his head and joints. A grunt escaped him as he was forced to his knees, lightheaded and breathless, when he felt a surge of pain in his abdomen and groin. A loud cry escaped him as his insides were twisted over and over again. It felt as if someone was going for his nuts brutally, kicking without any consideration or sympathy. It was a feeling he wouldn’t wish on any man.

Outside the ritual’s range, Bellatrix and Narcissa stared at his wincing form on his knees, gripping his thigh harshly. Blood was smeared across his skin and the sight was more horrid than most of the things they’d ever laid eyes on. Staring at his naked figure or making a joke was the furthest thing in their minds and all they wished was for the ritual to conclude soon.

Their eyes widened when suddenly, a ghostly spectral form of a Thestral emerged from the blood, leaving an ethereal red glow in its wake as it floated about right over him. The creature suddenly dove toward him and all they could do was stare as it phased through Harry and vanished back inside the blood.

Harry lurched, gasping aloud as a sudden pain flared throughout his body. With a red blast, the blood evaporated, the seven-pointed star vanishing in a puff of red smoke.

Bellatrix and Narcissa waited impatiently for the smoke to clear, aware that the ritual might not be over yet and they had to let Harry make his way out instead of going to him.

It took a few minutes for the smoke to truly subside and with bated breaths and wide eyes, they watched Harry as he staggered toward them. They gasped as they caught sight of the tattoo of a feral Thestral with its fangs bared mid-flight emblazoned on his chest, right over his heart.

“Harry!” Narcissa gasped as he stumbled and both she and her twin quickly caught him before he could fall.

“P-potion…” Harry rasped and Bellatrix was quick to respond. Her face set into one of concern, she gently tilted his head up and fed him the Blood Replenishing Potion. Both she and Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief as color started returning to his body.

Harry took a few deep breaths as he allowed them to lead him over to a chair. He leaned back, feeling his racing heartbeat and he felt a throb on the left of his chest. An involuntary chuckle escaped him when he caught sight of the tattoo.

Leaning back comfortably and feeling a lot more recovered now, Harry smiled at his girlfriends.

“Looks like it worked absolutely fine,” he said. With the knife still in his hand, he made a small cut on the tip of his finger and everyone watched how the cut healed up instantly. “Yep. Absolutely fine.”

“But at quite a steep cost,” Narcissa could not help but remark.

Harry smiled gently as he gazed at her and Bellatrix before he reached forward and gently pulled them closer. They allowed him to pull them on the arm of the chair and looked at him.

“I told you I was going to ask for it to spare me two, remember?” He asked softly. “I’m sure it would be enough for us all.”

Smiling, he allowed them to pull him into a loving three-way embrace and sighed in contentment.

The boons were worth the sacrifice. He had no doubts about that.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

It was not often that an emergency session of the Wizengamot was called, and in the aftermath of recent events, Albus Dumbledore had a foreboding feeling about it.

He had been expecting the missive that had arrived the previous day from the office of the Minister and its contents did not reassure him in any manner.

From his vantage point, he watched the various lords and ladies entering the chamber and paid special attention to a certain few. Lords Lestrange, Avery, Nott, MacNair, Yaxley, and finally, Malfoy. All those lords had lost their heirs in the attack, with Corvus Lestrange also losing his spare. As it stood, those houses did not have anyone to carry their names forward, and Dumbledore knew it would have a significant impact on the political sphere of Wizarding Britain going forward.

He was not surprised to see Harry Peverell among the ranks either, or his closeness with one Charlus Potter. They were family and considering how the young man was close with James Potter and his friends as well, it stood to reason that they would be allies. However, he could not miss something his keen eyes discovered easily.

Peverell was surrounded by the lords of House Potter, House Longbottom, House Prewett, and House Bones, and they all seemed to be discussing something. Peverell was the one speaking while the others listened attentively, their faces set in an expression of utmost seriousness.

Dumbledore did not know what was unfolding over there but he could see a formidable alliance brewing. All those lords were powerful in the political sphere in their own right and Charlus Potter seemed to have brought his circle around the young Peverell lord now. However, what surprised him was how instead of being the one in the spotlight, the Potter lord was also amongst those who were listening attentively to whatever Peverell was saying.

The arrival of the Minister brought him out of his musings and he gave her a cordial nod that was returned amicably. The woman looked a bit worse for wear as she took her seat to his right, with the head of the DMLE Bartemius Crouch Sr. already sitting to his left. His presence in that seat was evidence enough that this Wizengamot session was to be concerned with criminal law.

Millicent Bagnold, the Minister for Magic, accepted the stack of parchment and leafed through it. Once she was done, she gave him a nod to indicate they were ready.

Dumbledore nodded and banged the gavel on the podium. At once, the doors to the chamber shut as it was enveloped in silence. Dumbledore addressed the lords and ladies of the Wizengamot and all other members who were in attendance, as was customary.

"I call to order this emergency session of the Wizengamot and defer to the one who requested it. Madam Minister?" Dumbledore prompted.

"Thank you, Chief Warlock," Bagnold nodded and turned to address the Wizengamot with a grave look on her face. "I have called for this emergency session of the Wizengamot to address the heinous crime that took place in our country two days ago. I know we all are aware of what I am talking about and I believe you all would agree with me when I say that it cannot be allowed to go unpunished."

"Hear, hear!" A loud shout was echoed by almost every member of the chamber apart from a select few and Dumbledore's gaze swept over everyone, committing their faces to memory. He could not help but note that Peverell and his allies, as he believed they were now, were sitting stoically, listening.

"Before we begin, I would appreciate if we took a moment to remember the unfortunate victims of an assault of the most heinous kind. My lords, I know this token of remembrance is nothing in front of your grief and losses, but please join us all as we take a moment of silence to remember the lives of your brave sons," Bagnold continued.

Rage, sorrow, and devastation were written on the faces of all the lords who had lost their sons. They all were gripping the armrests of their chairs harshly, their teeth gritted and their tears barely held back, as the Wizengamot was enveloped in a chilling silence.

"Now then," Bagnold cleared her throat after a minute. "As you all must know already from the articles published in the Prophet, the heirs of six pureblood houses were viciously murdered in the Forbidden Forest this past Hogsmeade weekend. I will now ask you all to peruse through the official auror reports that have been made available to you."

Even though he had seen it already, Dumbledore could not help but grimace at the sight of the broken and mutilated bodies of those students with brutal curses and claw marks all over them. It was evident to anyone that the assault had been vicious and unrelenting. The sight could have sent a chill down the most seasoned person's spine and it was no surprise that a collective gasp rang around the chamber as all the members of the Wizengamot laid their eyes on the devastation those werewolves had wrought upon their victims.

The lords whose heirs had been killed sat, unmoving, as they glared helplessly at nothing in particular.

"That should tell you everything about the brutality of those creatures and the way they unceremoniously assaulted the sons of esteemed pureblood families," Bagnold continued. "Six of them were recovered, but it is with a heavy heart that I must announce that one of them is still unaccounted for."

"The family tree has told me that Lucius is dead as well," Abraxas Malfoy's voice was barely above a whisper and yet it carried throughout the chamber, earning the man pitying looks from his fellow lords. He gritted his teeth in rage and his head shot up, glaring at the Minister. "I hope the repercussions will be worthy of their transgression, Minister."

Millicent Bagnold gave the Malfoy lord a firm nod and glanced around, glaring.

"The auror investigation has concluded that the assault was the work of Fenrir Greyback's pack," she announced, prompting sharp intakes of breath around the chamber. "Permanent transformation induced by substance abuse. The perpetrators have already been administered the Dementor's kiss."

"Much deserved!"

"Those filthy beasts should be put down!"

"Savages like them should have no rights!"

Accompanying cries echoed throughout the chamber as various lords and ladies slammed their hands heavily against the wooden surface in front of them and Bagnold paused, allowing the clamor to slowly die down.

"But I hope you all will agree with me when I say that it is not enough," Bagnold continued. "The aggrieved lords and several others have called for stricter actions against the werewolves, including tightening the regulations governing the creatures. In consultancy with the departments and the lords concerned, my government has drafted the following amendment to the existing Werewolf Administration and Control Act of 1883. You will find the documents under your desks."

Dumbledore sighed and reached under his desk, pulling out the small stack of parchment. He ignored the whispers that erupted throughout the chamber and began perusing through the proposed amendment. What he read made his blood run cold.

The proposal was straightforward, with five points of note, and he read through it meticulously, realizing that the overall description matched the initial summaries. Wide-eyed, he stared at the Minister before letting his gaze travel across the chamber to where Benjy Fenwick sat with a stoic look on his face. He met his old friend's gaze and found nothing but resignation, and it was enough to make him realize that the entire power bloc of the ministry was united on these legislations.

For over an hour, the members of the Wizengamot read the new legislation, discussing the points the amendment proposed.

"We shall open the floor for debates and discussions now," Bagnold called out.

"There is no need for any debates! Pass these legislations and treat those beasts exactly how they deserve to be treated!" Lestrange roared, shooting to his feet, his eyes red and maliciously glaring.

"We understand your emotions, Lord Lestrange. But the procedure has to be adhered to."

"To hell with your procedures!" Lord Avery joined in, and so did every other lord apart from Malfoy who had lost their sons. "These amendments are the least their kind deserves. Who here can even think of opposing these laws!?"

Dumbledore sighed and banged his gavel, earning furious looks from all the lords standing.

"My lords, everyone understands your emotions and we all empathize with you, but a law cannot be amended without conducting a vote. All the members of this august body deserve to have their say."

"The Chief Warlock and the Minister speak correctly," Lord Ogden nodded, meeting the glares firmly. "With such a severe amendment tabled before the Wizengamot, you can't seriously ask us to not even discuss this! There must be a discussion and a debate over the points proposed."

"Who disagrees then?" Lestrange shouted. "Stand up and tell me why this shouldn't happen. I dare you!"

"No one is agreeing or disagreeing already, Lord Lestrange. But there needs to be a discussion on the matter before we pass the proposal. Your emotions are volatile and we all understand it but please sit down, all of you. We will have a discussion now," Dumbledore called out firmly.

Lestrange glared at the old wizard, his fists clenched, but he finally relented and sat down. The rest followed suit, gritting their teeth.

Dumbledore regarded them for a few more seconds before he nodded toward Bagnold who took charge once again.

"I believe we are ready to deliberate on the resolution proposed now. As the one to put it forward, I believe it is my duty to explain the reasons behind each amendment."

Everyone gazed at the woman attentively as she began to explain the motivations behind the amendments and Dumbledore listened to it all with a sense of detachment, already aware that there was nothing he could do.

There was little that could unite an entire Wizengamot that was often divided on frivolous matters than an attack on the heir of one of them, and here, seven sons of pureblood houses had been brutally killed. As a result, there was little anyone truly wanted to say against the laws proposed. At least until a certain lord stood up calmly.

"The session recognizes Lord Peverell."

As one, the entire Wizengamot chamber turned to gaze at the youngest lord in their midst with mixed emotions. Several were expectant, friendly, or neutral, but there were eyes filled with suspicion directed at the young wizard who stood with his head held high.

He glanced over at Charlus Potter who nodded subtly.

"First, allow me to pay my sincere condolences to all the esteemed lords who have suffered a grave misfortune. I truly wish your sons rest in peace," Harry started with a small nod of acknowledgment toward the section where those lords sat and he was met with either glares, derision, or neutral looks. He kept his eyes trained on Abraxas Malfoy for a second more before he turned back to regard Bagnold. "Madam Minister, I do have a few objections to the amendments proposed and I would like to bring my concerns to the session's notice."

"Who the hell do you think you are, brat!? Our sons are killed by those savages and you think what we want is wrong?" Corvus Lestrange shot to his feet once again, spittle flying out of his mouth as he glared at a stoic Harry who regarded him as if he was a vermin crawling on animal waste.

"Lord Lestrange, calm yourself!" Barty Crouch Sr. spoke up firmly, making the man swerve toward him with the same glare. "Lord Peverell is a member of the Wizengamot and as such, he has every right to having his voice heard in this chamber. We have excused your lack of decorum several times today because of your grief but I would implore you to exercise restraint and behave in accordance with what your position demands! It is unbecoming of both your stature and what this body deserves!"

"You dare—"

Sighing, Abraxas Malfoy reached out and grabbed the man's arm, pulling sharply.

"Sit down, Corvus," he said softly. "They are right."

"Abraxas—"

"Now is not the time to lose restraint," Malfoy continued, his voice as soft as before. "Sit down."

Lestrange glared at the Malfoy lord for a few moments who refused to budge. With a final glare toward both Crouch and Peverell, he took his seat once again. Malfoy turned to Dumbledore and nodded curtly.

Dumbledore nodded and turned back to Harry, "Please continue, Lord Peverell."

"Lord Lestrange should know that I bear him no ill will for his frivolous remarks on my person and station but he should also remember that such insolence shall not be tolerated anymore. I don't think he would be so forgiving if our situations had been reversed."

Malfoy grabbed Lestrange's arm once again, forcing him to remain in place.

"Lord Lestrange will certainly remember your words, Lord Peverell."

"As he should," Harry said curtly before he regarded Bagnold once again. "Now, getting back to what I was about to say before I was unceremoniously interrupted, I have my concerns about the amendments proposed, Minister."

"I am sure the rest of the lords would be very interested in your concerns, Lord Peverell," Bagnold replied curtly and Harry knew she would be no ally of his. If the glances he had seen her sharing with Malfoy and his ilk proved anything, she seemed to have chosen her side in this case already. Not a Death Eater in any sense, but she certainly was a politician and knew she needed to appease the purebloods right now.

"I believe if these amendments are recognized as law, it would marginalize those werewolves even more. It should not surprise anyone if they get agitated and start attacking innocents, muggle and wizarding alike."

"Then they shall be put down like they deserve to be, as stated in the official documentation," Bagnold replied firmly.

"And how do you intend to respond to them so quickly? Is our auror force equipped so efficiently so as to prevent those attacks, Lord Crouch?" Harry asked.

"No, Lord Peverell," Crouch replied. "The auror force is already stretched thin with monitoring all remote locations and known werewolf hotspots."

"Then I believe the auror force would need to be bolstered with additional funding and recruitment so that they are able to combat any attacks," Harry replied. "Until it happens, we cannot take the risk of going ahead with these amendments."

"So what you are suggesting is that we don't do anything?" Bagnold asked sarcastically. "Forgive me, Lord Peverell, but that wouldn't be right either."

"I know it wouldn't," Harry nodded. "Which is why I am not opposing all the proposals here. But restricting werewolves from leaving certain zones with the penalty of death is extreme and I don't believe anyone here would agree with it. Furthermore, there are innocent werewolves who had no involvement in the attack and who have never taken any aggressive step towards anyone. Subjecting them to the same treatment as these werewolves who were frankly the worst of the lot would, as you said, not be right."

Murmurs and whispers rang about the chamber which were brought to a halt when another lord stood up.

"The session recognizes Lord Malfoy."

Abraxas Malfoy gazed coolly at Bagnold who stared back with a frown on her face.

"Lord Peverell seems like a kind person if he sees the good in beings like them, but he is not the one who has suffered at the hands of those creatures. A country is not run by kindness. Harsh decisions need to be taken if we are to ensure continued safety of our people. This amendment that has been proposed, although harsh to some, is one that should have been passed a long time ago. Because of our negligence, our houses have been affected irrevocably. What guarantee do we have that the werewolves whom Lord Peverell calls innocent won't lose themselves to their baser instincts and kill even more innocents like our sons? Today, our houses lost their heirs. Tomorrow, it could be anyone else. Do we need to wait and let them do irrevocable damage before we take actions? That would be the height of tomfoolery."

"Indeed!"

There were nods and murmurs of agreement around the chamber from several individuals and Harry stood in his spot, his face devoid of any emotion.

"We cannot take the risk of exposing innocent civilians to volatile and unpredictable, not to mention cruel creatures like werewolves," Malfoy continued. "It is my belief that the amendments proposed are not only needed, but have been delayed considerably. We would be foolish to delay it any further."

Harry let out a small sigh when everyone turned back to him, expecting a response.

"I am not foolish. I can see that a decision has already been reached and no matter what I say, it won't change. I would only implore you to rescind the order to kill werewolves if they are discovered outside the designated zones and to allocate the funds the auror department needs so that they can take care of matters with minimal, preferably no casualties."

"Duly noted, Lord Peverell."

Harry nodded and took his seat once again, glancing at his allies who gave him subtle nods. From his vantage point, Dumbledore frowned. He had frankly expected more from the young Peverell lord but apart from expressing his naïveté in political matters, he had contributed little of substance. He did believe that the lords might refuse to approve the killing of werewolves if they were found outside their designated spots as it was a step too extreme, but it seemed all other amendments were going to be approved. He could not help but wonder what Peverell's motive was here with his mere posturing.

His prediction was spot on. All the amendments bar one were recognized and with a heavy heart, he slammed the stamp on the document, watching it vanish.

Earlier, people didn't employ werewolves because of prejudice or skepticism. Now, it would be downright illegal to grant employment to werewolves.

Now, every werewolf would have to register as one with the new werewolf commission that would be constituted, just like an animagus, within a month of the first transformation or the date the commission came into existence, whichever was later, and failure would entail a life sentence in Azkaban.

If that was not enough, werewolves would now be forced to wear a band around their arm so that everyone knew what they were. If found without one, they would be earning a life sentence in Azkaban. It was the compromise the session had agreed on which, although better than not killing the werewolves on sight, was not right either, but there was nothing anyone could, or wanted to do.

Furthermore, werewolves were now restricted from carrying wands. Any werewolf discovered in possession of one would be carted off to Azkaban, pending trial. Anyone with half a brain knew the trial would be in name only.

As the session dispersed, Dumbledore gazed at Peverell and his allies who walked out of the chamber together and he reiterated to himself. Something was indeed brewing with them.

-Break-

His plans were coming along nicely. He knew it was going to be a challenging endeavor but he was very content with the progress he had made so far. It was slow, but he was gaining followers at a steady rate.

It had started with small-time criminals who wanted to climb up the ladder. They had been the easiest to seduce with only a hint of power, and soon followed the sympathizers—pureblood elites who had been steadily growing discontent with the increasing influence of the muggle world on their culture and their presence in their midst.

He had begun his foray by influencing the young heirs of several households—developing minds who were easy to be impressed. Dumbledore might have denied him the perfect position of influence when he had denied him for the post of the Defense professor at Hogwarts but he was neither one to lose heart so easily, nor lacking in resourcefulness to not think of alternative ways to gain what he wanted. Those young heirs were a gateway to their pureblood families, and it did not take long for him to establish himself with the lords of those houses.

Things had begun over a year ago and he was satisfied to have the undying loyalty of the esteemed houses of Malfoy, Lestrange, Yaxley, Avery, MacNair, Nott, and more. He was confident that their numbers would only increase. It had taken time but time was something he had in spades, for he was an immortal being. Be it a year or a decade, Lord Voldemort would establish his rule over the peasants one day.

The young heirs were promising, albeit a bit rough around the edges, but their performances on a few fun ventures he had taken them on had pleased him very much. He did not doubt that they would be deserving of the mark he had bestowed on their fathers if they continued on their trajectory.

His mark was a work of art and it only deserved to be bestowed upon the most elite of his ranks. He was looking forward to the day when his faithful—the Death Eaters—would descend upon their enemies and deliver his righteous judgment on them.

It had been almost a week since he had met his followers. The heirs had left for Hogwarts long before that and the lords had visited him, listening to his commands. Their foray into recruiting magical creatures would begin soon and he had instructed them to ensure the werewolves joined their cause. In the meantime, he had gone overseas to run a few errands.

Dispassionately, he gazed at the wizard bleeding out in front of him.

"Dinner, Nagini," he said softly, smiling when the massive serpent descended from the ramparts, shooting straight ahead for the corpse. "Be quick. We have places to be."

Fifteen minutes later, he vanished with a swirl of dark smoke and appeared in the middle of a darkened room. He tapped his wand against a serpent motif as he took his seat at the head of the table. Barely ten seconds later, he heard the telltale sounds of apparition as his followers began arriving.

Silently, they took their seats and he frowned when none would meet his gaze. Their faces were set in anger and sorrow as they kept their eyes firmly on the table.

"I had hoped for a bit more… enthusiasm upon my return," Voldemort began silkily, his crimson eyes traveling from one lord to another. His lips curled when he received no response. "I remember assigning a task to you all. How goes the progress with the werewolves?"

At once, everyone jerked. Their expressions shifted, sorrow giving way to rage as they gritted their teeth, glaring at the table.

"Hmm? I sense something brewing here," Voldemort whispered. "Pray tell. You do not need to fear for my response if they have declined. I might be unforgiving but I am not unfair."

"Those creatures will not be joining our cause," Abraxas Malfoy whispered, his voice shaking, and Voldemort did not miss how tightly the man was gripping the wooden arm of his chair. He would've easily broken it in his grasp if he'd been strong enough.

"I see," Voldemort replied. "Unfortunate. I am certain you all must have tried your best. I had a feeling it would not be easy to recruit them."

"We did not go to recruit those savages!" Lestrange spat venomously. "There is no way any of us would ever lower ourselves to cater to those barbarians!"

Voldemort remained silent for a moment, his crimson eyes fixated on Corvus Lestrange who had still not looked up. The man was glaring hatefully at the table.

"Even if it was your lord's command?" Voldemort whispered, a hint of malice seeping into his tone. "You will let your prejudices impede on your duties to your lord, Corvus? Everyone?"

Voldemort trailed his gaze from one lord to another, none meeting his eyes. His lips curled in a sneer and he hissed maliciously, "I seem to remember you all proclaiming with every bit of passion in your hearts that you would adhere to every command of your lord, no matter how heinous the task might be. What happened to that conviction? Was it all for show?"

Everyone remained silent, fists clenched, teeth gritted, and their eyes glaring darkly at the dark table.

Voldemort sneered, "I find myself… disappointed."

"WE DIDN'T GO TO THEM BECAUSE THEY KILLED OUR SONS!" Corvus Lestrange burst out, his eyes red and glaring madly at his lord. "EACH AND EVERY ONE OF OUR SONS IS DEAD! THOSE SAVAGES TORE THEM APART AND FEASTED ON THEIR CORPSES BEFORE THROWING THEM AWAY LIKE GARBAGE! ABRAXAS' SON HASN'T EVEN BEEN FOUND! WHAT DO YOU THINK HAPPENED TO HIM!? AND YOU WANT US TO RECRUIT THOSE BEASTS IN OUR RANKS!?"

Voldemort sat stoically, the man's words registering with him. Silent and utterly calm even though there was a magma of rage bubbling underneath the surface, he regarded each lord sitting around him. Their rage and sorrow were palpable, their loss and pain screaming at him.

"How did it happen?" He asked finally, his voice one of utter calm.

"They were attacked after the Hogsmeade weekend…"

Voldemort listened silently as the man explained what had happened to all their sons and how the truth had been discovered. Nothing had been left unexplained and by the time it ended with the amendments to the legislation, Voldemort could only sigh in disappointment.

Things had started splendidly for his cause, only to suddenly evaporate in smoke. The future of his cause was destroyed. Those heirs were rough but they showed promise and he had been confident that one generation had been secured for his cause. However, they were all dead now, which meant he was all but back to square one. These lords were of little use to him apart from being his voice in the legislation. It was not as if even one of them was a capable wand, all having been given everything they wanted in life. They were cruel, Corvus in particular, and they were politically well-established, but being a combatant was too much of an ask.

'Would they be politically strong anymore though?' Voldemort wondered to himself. With no heirs, the future of their houses was up in the air. Their alliances would be fragile now, and he would not be surprised if everyone had started working on cutting their losses already. And if everyone truly had, then what need did he have of them?

He eyed them dispassionately, his expression neutral to give nothing away.

"I see," he said softly. "It seems things have taken a sudden downturn in my absence. It begs the question though. Why did those werewolves attack your sons?"

"They're mad beasts! What reason does a mad beast have?"

"So they're mad," Voldemort mused. "Doesn't that mean they acted on their urges and not under Greyback's commands? Doesn't that make Greyback innocent of this attack?"

"Mad beasts only obey their mad master!" Corvus hissed. "Innocent or not, the legislation has passed and Greyback's pack is marked. He better hope he never shows his face."

"You seem to be ignoring the point here, Corvus. You do not know for certain if Greyback was involved. Instead of letting your emotions cloud your judgment, you need to be rational at a time like this. We have lost a significant number of allies. The future of our cause," Voldemort replied calmly as he stood up and turned around, facing his familiar who slithered up his front and rested on his shoulders. Eyes trained ahead, he started to absentmindedly stroke her head, smiling when she hissed in contentment.

Corvus Lestrange remained silently seething as Abraxas Malfoy stood up, staring at him.

"The Dark Lord has a point, Corvus," he said emotionlessly. "As much as we hate it, we do not know if Greyback truly did order the attack."

Corvus Lestrange glared at the Malfoy lord with utter revulsion. "You lost your son, and you want to grovel in front of those beasts!? Do it if you want, but don't expect me to be with you when that bastard tears your throat out!"

"We have suffered a massive setback, Corvus. The last thing we want is a divide between us," Malfoy said firmly. "Deep down, you know what I want. You know what the Dark Lord truly wants!"

Corvus was breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring as he listened to Malfoy spew his drivel until he couldn't listen anymore.

"I don't give a fuck what the Dark Lord wants!" He shouted.

Malfoy recoiled as if struck and there were sharp intakes of breath from every other lord sitting around them, their eyes wide. Meanwhile, Voldemort paused mid-caress, his hand mere inches above Nagini's head as his head snapped up, crimson orbs glowing maliciously as he gazed in the distance.

Ever so slowly, Voldemort turned around and his malevolent gaze fixed itself on a glaring Corvus Lestrange who was staring at him heatedly. Voldemort's nostrils flared in rage and Corvus' glare slowly quelled as his instincts buried his ire. Fear overtook him and his features morphed slowly, his eyes drifting down in subservience as his lord regarded him.

"M-My Lord, I'm sure Corvus did not mean that," Abraxas tried. "He is grieving, we all are. Please, believe me. Corvus, tell him you didn't mean that!"

"I-I didn't m-mean that," Corvus whispered, his eyes firmly down as he shook his head, shivering. "I-I d-didn't m-mean that. I didn't m-mean t-that…"

Corvus kept repeating his mantra, never raising his eyes, and Voldemort kept his hateful orbs trained on the man.

"M-My Lord—"

Abraxas was cut off when Corvus Lestrange was suddenly launched in the air with a violent gasp where he remained floating, as if possessed by a vengeful spirit. His mouth was open in a silent scream, his limbs were stretched far and wide, and his head was knocked back so that his unseeing eyes were visible to them.

"You dare!" Voldemort hissed and everyone gasped as suddenly, Corvus' body lurched, his back arching painfully. All his limbs were brutally pulled off, blood pooling on the table before his head was severed from his body in the same manner.

With a thud, Corvus' corpse fell right on top of the pool of blood and his limbs followed suit, arranging themselves in place in a grotesque heap of carnage. His sightless eyes were open and everyone stared at the mutilated corpse and the expanding pool of blood in muted horror, frozen in place by the sheer brutality on display.

Voldemort seemed utterly unmoved by the atrocity he had just committed. A cruel sneer played across his lips as he surveyed the carnage.

He eyed each lord, all of whom stared shakily at the corpse of their former ally. Turning toward his familiar, he smiled cruelly. It seemed it was her lucky day.

"Nagini… dinner."

The massive serpent uncoiled from around his frame, descending on the table as the lords slid back in their seats fearfully. Nagini's maw opened wide, her massive fangs glistening with blood and venom as she lurched forward, launching herself against her meal.

"Let that be a lesson to anyone who dares disrespect Lord Voldemort," the Dark Lord whispered, his cold voice cutting venomously through the sickly silence.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

The dank, musty air of the Chamber of Secrets hung heavily, filled with a palpable haze of decay and dread. Shadows danced upon the ancient stone walls, cast by the flickering torchlight that barely illuminated the ghastly scene.

At the center of the chamber lay the colossal, lifeless form of the Basilisk, its massive jaws agape in a final, silent hiss. The great serpent's scaly body stretched out for what seemed like an eternity, coiled upon itself in a grotesque parody of slumber. Its soulless eyes, once capable of turning anyone who dared meet its gaze to stone, were now dull and lifeless, reflecting nothing but the cold finality of death.

Nearby, the desecrated corpse of Lucius Malfoy had begun to rot, his once-haughty features now distorted into a rictus of horror. His sightless eyes bulged from their sockets, frozen in an expression of pure, unadulterated terror. Maggots writhed within the folds of his expensive robes, feasting upon the putrid flesh beneath, and a foul stench of decay hung in the air.

However, the true focus of the grim display this time was the bound figure of Peter Pettigrew, suspended in the air by cruel jute ropes that bit deep into his flesh, birthing lacerations on his skin. Blood seeped into his tattered robes that hung onto his frame in shreds as if marred by countless lashes and curses. His unconscious visage was a mask of abject misery, etched with the lines of what looked like months of torment and deprivation. Dried blood caked his skin, the crimson trails of countless wounds crisscrossing his body like a gruesome work of the darkest of arts. His eyes were sunken in their lids, haunted by unspeakable horrors that had been inflicted on him in the past few hours.

The stench of death and despair permeated every corner of the chamber, portraying a sickly haze that seemed to leach the very life from the air itself. The shadows lengthened as if reaching out to embrace Pettigrew in their cold, eternal embrace, and the silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional drip of water from the damp walls and the ragged, wheezing breaths that escaped Pettigrew's cracked lips.

The heavy silence was shattered by the sound of approaching footsteps, echoing ominously throughout the chamber. The figure of Harry Peverell emerged from the shadows, his face a mask of disgust and grim determination. He clutched a wand firmly in his grasp, its polished length glinting in the torchlight.

He regarded the rotting corpse of Lucius Malfoy for a few seconds before his gaze slowly shifted to the bound man who looked barely conscious. His eyes hardened with a mixture of hatred and righteous fury as he laid eyes on the man's broken form.

Harry had given the responsibility of dealing with Pettigrew to his former best friends. However, they did not have it in their souls to do what even they knew needed to be done. They had approached him after leaving, with a charmed jar that contained the rat, asking him to do what needed to be done. Harry had the perfect idea in mind.

It had been two days since Pettigrew had been here, and Harry fully intended to stretch the man's time as much as he could. No way would he get the Malfoy treatment.

He stepped closer, his black robes swaying behind him ominously. Flicking his wand, he slowly tilted Pettigrew's face upward, gazing into his unseeing eyes that were barely open. It looked as if the man had a severe case of drug overuse with the way he was looking right now.

"You had everything, Peter. But it was not enough for you, was it?" He asked slowly, his voice a deathly whisper as he twirled his wand from one side to another, watching the injuries he had inflicted on Pettigrew. "You know, I would have been a bit lenient with you… not too much, no… just a bit… if… if you had hesitated even a little bit. But that was too much to expect from a rat like you, hmm?"

A silent cutting curse shredded his clothes even further and Harry waved his wand dispassionately, his silent banishing charm taking them off, leaving Pettigrew clad in nothing but his innerwear. The boy was not as fat as his future self would have been, but he was already showing signs.

"I can see it, you know? Your reasons… you were never anything special, always under their shadows. James and Sirius were more popular, Remus was more intelligent, and you just kept following behind them like a little pet. At least that's what you always saw it as, right, Peter?" Harry asked softly. "I can see it very well. Your jealousy, your inferiority complex… it all must have slowly started to change how you think, right? And you slowly started to hate them… you hated them to the point where you even lost sense of what was right and what was wrong."

Harry kept walking around Peter, knowing the man could hear him even though he was delirious.

"You killed an innocent… a mudblood, as you called them. And you sold your soul to the devil… all for what? To show them that you were worth something without those you called friends? Is that all, Peter?" Harry asked slowly, and his voice took on a dangerous edge as he stepped closer, pushing his wand under Peter's chin and forcing him to look up into his ferally glaring eyes. "No, that's not all. You even asked… not, you extracted a promise that you will have a certain someone all to yourself, to do with as you pleased, right?"

His eyes glowed a shade of deathly emerald, killing intent rolling off him in waves as his murderous gaze bore down on the bound man.

"Your hatred for them was so massive, but even bigger was your lust for her," he whispered dangerously. "You know you have no chance with her, and this was the best way you could think of to get her, right? To hurt them the most, and to get what you wanted…"

Suddenly, Peter let out a loud wail as a chunk of his ear fell on the floor with a soft thud, blood squirting out of the injury as Harry flicked his wand, casting a silent cutting curse.

"You dared to see her with those eyes, Peter. You dared to plot against her. Don't try to hide anything. I have already seen everything you wanted to do to her, to satiate your filthy lust and to hurt them as much as you could," Harry growled. "You are a fucking swine, Peter. And you will suffer for it for all your remining life."

Peter's head fell forward, his chin against his chest and his unseeing eyes blearily staring at his feet. He whimpered in pain as the jute rope dug deeper into his skin and blood kept seeping out of his ear.

"Enjoy your time here, Peter," Harry whispered and flicked his wand. A glass cage appeared around the man, trapping him in place. He remained unaware of it, but only for a few seconds as multiple creatures suddenly appeared inside the cage, and even when he was in so much pain, he could not hold back a loud wail of fright.

Creatures ranging from bugs and worms of multiple kinds materialized out of nowhere and they started crawling and slithering around.

"You should like these," Harry called out mercilessly, and multiple rats appeared right after, jumping and darting about.

"We're not done," Harry continued, ignoring Peter's frantic cries and violent jerking which did nothing but agitate the creatures more and open further lacerations on his arms where the unforgiving jute dug in. On cue, multiple varieties of spiders and frogs appeared inside the cage, and it didn't take long for the creatures to engage in a battle for survival of their own. It was a proper food chain in there, after all.

"And finally," Harry hissed ominously, and multiple snakes appeared inside the cage, slithering around and hissing violently, unhappy to be pulled from their natural habitat. However, the sheer abundance of food all around them seemed to make them much more amicable to the setting and they too made themselves at home soon.

"They'll have their fun, and I hope they also include you. Don't worry, none are poisonous. Also, I've taken off the block so you can turn into your true form if you wish. I'd take care though, those snakes look like they love their rats," Harry called out.

Indeed, more and more rats replaced the dying ones as Harry lent even more magic to the habitat, ensuring the food chain kept working for a prolonged period of time.

"I'll be back for you in… well, I don't know when I'll get the time," Harry remarked, his voice utterly devoid of sympathy. "Try not to die until then, okay? I'd prefer if we had a few more sessions like this. You deserve it, after all."

Without a backward glance, Harry left a shrieking and gasping Peter Pettigrew to his devices, totally uncaring of whether he lived or perished. None would make him unhappy.

-Break-

A subdued group awaited Harry when he arrived in the Gryffindor Common Room and he joined them on the couch near the fireplace. James and Sirius sat together with Frank, with the Prewett twins standing by the fireplace and Remus sitting on his own in one of the chairs. Harry sighed and took the other chair, letting his gaze travel over the group.

"You guys knew this would've happened."

"Doesn't mean we've got to like it though," Sirius retorted. "Come on, Harry. How's it fair?"

"It isn't," he agreed. "But this was the best we could've hoped for, believe me. If you'd read the initial proposal, you would've fainted."

"It couldn't have been that bad, right?" Frank asked skeptically.

"Their initial proposal was to kill any werewolf on sight. When that was deemed too extreme, they proposed to designate spots in which werewolves could live and if any breached the boundary, they'd be killed on the spot. This, I believe, is much more tolerable compared to what they truly wanted," Harry replied in a curt voice.

Everyone stared at him with wide eyes, disbelief etched on their faces.

"Have they gone mad!?"

"Heirs of pureblood families have been killed, James. You seriously expected them to sit tight and do nothing? The Minister also had no choice. She had to aid them or she would've been kicked out of her office in a heartbeat. The situation was so serious that even the houses which are considered traditionally light were in favor of strong legislations. Believe me, the stock of werewolves is at an all-time low right now, and what we have on our hands is the best we could've hoped for."

Remus was silent all the while, his mind awash with the revelations of the Wizengamot meeting in which the purebloods had decided the fate of an entire sub-species. Werewolves were wizards too, not creatures as everyone treated them, and to think that the Wizengamot believed they had the right to dictate how every werewolf should live did not sit right with him. This was persecution of the highest order, borderline genocidal, and much worse would have happened if not for Harry and several others who had managed to get rid of the more polarizing points of the bill.

Even then, he could see his life prospects end already. Werewolves were to be treated like people in concentration camps. They could hold no employment, which meant no money, which further meant no way to take care of themselves. It would encourage further crime which would give them and the aurors full right to take capital action against those who acted up. Additionally, being forced to register meant he could no longer continue at Hogwarts. No one would bear that. So far, Dumbledore had kept his secret and it was only because of the old wizard's benevolence that he was still calling this castle his home. However, now that he would be forced to register, his secret would be public and he would need to leave Hogwarts.

He eyed his friends who were no less troubled, undoubtedly thinking the same, and he shifted his gaze to Harry who gave him a sympathetic look. He averted his eyes, silently gritting his teeth. He hated it whenever someone looked at him with those eyes. It made him feel inferior in his skin and it was not a feeling he would wish on anyone.

Meanwhile, Harry could see the struggle plainly on Remus' face and he could not help but feel marginally guilty, for he was the reason why this had to happen. He had a decision to make – a massively hard one, and he had made it. Framing the werewolves to start this chain reaction was the best way to deal such a massive blow to Voldemort's cause before it could start and he believed firmly that he had succeeded.

However, it had come at a massive price. He couldn't care less about other werewolves, but Remus was one of the people he deeply cared for, in both timelines. He had become a friend in the past few months and it hurt to see things go south like this for him.

He had hoped that the Werewolf registry would remain private, accessible on demand just like the Animagus registry was, but the Wizengamot would not budge on that proposal. It was mandatory to have a full page in every edition of the Daily Prophet and all other newspapers and magazines in circulation to have the names and pictures of all the werewolves on record. They were leaving no stone unturned in their quest to ensure the public knew who was a werewolf and thus, someone to be wary of. There was truly no way to prevent Remus' secret from coming out.

"Look," Harry sighed. "I know this is not ideal, far from it in fact. But this was the best that could be done."

"You've already said it more than once, Harry. No need to repeat yourself. We understand," James said with a frown. "I know it couldn't be helped. My father was there with you, after all. I know he would've ensured the best possible outcome in this scenario."

Harry gave him a firm nod and looked around the common room. It was a bit surprising to see it entirely empty, particularly at this hour. It seemed everyone had opted for an early night of sleep.

"Let's talk more about it tomorrow," Harry said as he stood up, prompting everyone to glance at him. "Things are tense. It's better we all slept on it."

Just as he turned around to walk away, the door to the common room opened and they watched in slight surprise as none other than Professor McGonagall walked in with a frown. Her eyes fell on Harry for a moment before she glanced over to where Remus was sitting.

"Mr. Lupin, the Headmaster would like to speak with you.," she intoned with a hint of sympathy in her voice.

Remus bit back the sigh that threatened to escape him and nodded. He pushed himself to his feet and slowly walked over, leaving with McGonagall leading the way.

Harry turned around and exchanged a resigned look with James and Sirius, all knowing what was going on and just why Dumbledore must've called Remus to his office.

"What was that about?" Gideon asked curiously. "What could Dumbledore want from him at this hour? It's well past curfew."

"Remus will tell us when he gets back," Harry replied with pursed lips, his gaze downcast. Not for the first time, he apologized to Remus within the confines of his mind. He just hoped this sacrifice would be worth it.

-Break-

Albus Dumbledore found himself helpless as he stared at the young man sitting in front of him. Remus Lupin was one of the most promising young wizards in the castle right now and it was very unfortunate that he could not ensure his spot at Hogwarts.

He had communicated as much already, and it made him feel worse when all the young man did was let out a resigned sigh as if he had been expecting something like this.

"When do I leave, Headmaster?" Remus asked in a monotone voice, his gaze firmly affixed to the desk.

"Tomorrow. I am truly sorry about this, Mr. Lupin."

"It's not your fault, Headmaster," Remus replied. "I had a feeling this would be happening after that law got passed. I can only thank you for allowing me to attend Hogwarts for all these years. I know how much of a risk you've taken for me already. It would be very ungrateful of me if I created more problems for you, especially when things have gotten so serious."

Dumbledore sighed.

"You might not be able to attend Hogwarts anymore, Mr. Lupin. But there is no law stopping you from taking your OWLs and NEWTs directly at the Ministry. I have full faith in your abilities and you have demonstrated that you can do it. Do not worry, it will be ensured that you have adequate education from home or wherever else. I wish you all the very best."

Remus nodded and soon, he left the office, leaving a pensive Dumbledore staring sorrowfully at the closed door. The true remorse was being forced to take away the chance for the young man to grow into adulthood alongside his peers and make even more connections along the way.

After he left the Headmaster's office, Remus briskly made his way over to Gryffindor Tower where he found everyone still awake and waiting for him. As he walked closer, he took in the expressions on the faces of James, Sirius, and Harry, and it told him enough. They knew.

Harry's hand clasped firmly on his shoulder where he gave a reassuring squeeze. With a nod, Remus stepped forward and was immediately engulfed in a firm hug by both James and Sirius who clutched onto him firmly.

"It's not the end, and you better believe it!" Sirius said with a faint growl as he and James pulled away.

"Can anyone tell us what's going on exactly?" Fabian asked impatiently. Similar grimaces swept across their faces as James and Sirius gazed at Harry before all their eyes shifted over to Remus who turned to face the others, trying with all his might to maintain a calm and controlled façade.

"I'm leaving Hogwarts," he said finally, releasing a deep breath.

Their eyes widened in shock before Gideon let out a laugh. Chuckling, he said, "Yeah, pull another one."

"I'm serious," Remus sighed.

"Nah, he is," Gideon retorted, pointing toward Sirius who, perhaps for the first time, did not react to the pun.

"He is leaving, guys," Harry said firmly, and this time, Gideon sobered up.

"But why? Is everything okay at home?" Frank asked in concern.

Remus stared at the ground, visibly struggling, when he felt firm hands gripping his shoulders. Turning, he saw James and Sirius standing on either side of him, nodding firmly.

"We're always with you," James whispered.

Tears threatened to spill from Remus' eyes but he controlled himself. Nodding resolutely, he turned back to Frank and the Prewett twins and replied, "I am a werewolf."

It felt as if a sudden chill had enveloped the Gryffindor Common Room as they stared at Remus in utter shock as if they could not believe what had come out of the boy's mouth.

"What?" Frank whispered.

"No, that can't be," Fabian said with an uncertain smile. "You're having us on, right? There's no way you're a werewolf."

Remus sighed deeply as he looked across the couch and into the crackling hearth. "It happened when I was barely 5 years old. My father had offended Fenrir Greyback. To retaliate, he tracked me down and… bit me. That's how I got afflicted with lycanthropy."

Sorrow was the paramount expression on everyone's faces as they gazed at Remus who kept staring at the fireplace.

"My life was never the same after that attack. My parents tried to make my transformations as safe and comfortable as possible, building me a secure area to transform when the full moon came. But it was still agonizingly painful every month. You can imagine it was very difficult keeping such a secret and condition under wraps. Most assumed I was just a very ill child. When the time for Hogwarts came, my parents never dreamed I could attend. It might not be illegal, but allowing a werewolf to enter Hogwarts would have been unimaginable."

There was a small pause as Remus collected himself, and a small smile finally appeared on his face.

"But then Dumbledore changed everything. Kind soul that he was, he told my parents that I deserved the same education as anyone. He made arrangements for me, having the Shrieking Shack and underground passage built to give me a secure place to transform."

"So that's where the rumors of that shack being haunted come from…" Frank whispered, earning a nod from Remus.

"It wasn't easy, having to miss classes every month and then make up for it all around full moons, but I couldn't just squander this opportunity Dumbledore had given me at such personal risk. I got the chance most afflicted people never get. I had to make the best of it. Even now, I know it must be hurting him so much that he couldn't do much for me, and I fully understand. This time, it's a matter of life and death. I have to register, or my life might end if I'm found. We all know the risk is too much."

"Still, do you really need to leave though?" Fabian asked softly. "Hear me out, something will happen only if you're found."

"I don't think the risk is worth it, to be honest," Remus replied, sighing. "I have to register and comply with the law. It's soon going to be public knowledge that I am a werewolf. Attending Hogwarts would be impossible now. But hey, at least I can continue my education. The Headmaster said arrangements will be made for lessons, and there's no law forbidding werewolves from taking their OWLs and NEWTs in the Ministry when the time comes."

They all stewed in silence for a long while, all knowing that there was truly nothing they could do now.

Finally, James slammed his fist in his palm and turned to Remus. "You'll be perfectly fine. We'll make sure of that. And we'll keep meeting as much as we can. Sneaking out is child's play."

"You won't stop breaking rules, will you?" Remus remarked with a chuckle, earning matching smirks from his two best friends.

"You really need to ask?" James said smugly.

All Harry could do was sigh as he leaned back in the chair, regarding everyone. What was happening was unavoidable, but at least things were not as bad as they could've been. The situation was not desirable, but considering the stakes, it was acceptable.

-Break-

A somber mood pervaded the Gryffindor table during breakfast the following day as everyone read about the new werewolf law in the Daily Prophet, and the opinions were divided. While muggleborns and several half-blood and pureblood students were critical of the severe measures adopted by the Ministry, there was no shortage of voices that fully approved of the amendment, with many even believing that it was high time some strict stance was taken against those abhorred creatures.

Amidst the clamor, barely anyone noticed multiple missing students across all four house tables, with only a few knowing why those students were absent. All those students were the quietest of the bunch, and for good reason. Their friends were no longer going to remain at Hogwarts.

No one but the members of the staff knew that Remus Lupin was not the only werewolf student who had been attending Hogwarts. Indeed, there were no fewer than a dozen students from all four houses who had, in one way or another, been afflicted by the lycanthropy curse. Dumbledore and the professors had made suitable arrangements for all of them to have a secure place to transform during the full moons, either inside the castle or far away, and now, none of those places would see any use.

The professors also sat silently as they indulged in their breakfast, apart from a select few who pointed out the necessity of the new law to their colleagues without any reluctance, much to their chagrin. None called them out on their opinions, though, allowing them to have freedom of thought and expression.

At the Gryffindor table, Harry sat with Narcissa and Bellatrix on either side of him, both girls uncharacteristically somber as they ate. As expected, they knew how and why this had happened, and they remained fully supportive of their boyfriend, who they knew was shouldering the burden of this development in silence. Indeed, he could not express it to anyone, let alone his friends who might not understand his motivations. As such, it fell on them to do their best to alleviate the mental pressure he was under, and they tried their utmost to convey their support. From his loving smiles and reassuring touches, they knew he appreciated it all the same.

It had not been missed by other students either that both Remus and Peter were nowhere to be seen, and even if they would have ignored it, the fact that James and Sirius were looking so subdued made people feel that something was wrong. There had been a few who had so far taken the initiative to ask about the two missing students, and although the mention of Peter had made them feel enraged, it was Remus' name that quelled all the rage and made them passive.

Harry deemed it enough when another student came over and asked them, and he applied a privacy ward around them.

"Look, I know it's tough, but they'll know soon anyway. The list would be staying public, so hoping that we can keep it a secret is useless," he said softly.

"Gossiping behind his back wouldn't be right, Harry," James said with a frown.

"I agree, but staying silent like that is not going to help matters either. And believe me, they won't stop asking until they get some sort of answer. It depends on you what type of answer you want to give them."

"What about the rat?" Sirius asked with a sneer. "What are we supposed to say about him?"

"You said he has no family, right?"

"His parents died two years ago, yes," James replied. "We supported him until the end. And what did it get us?"

Everyone stared at him with pensive expressions on their faces, Pettigrew's betrayal hitting particularly close to home in his case. Everyone knew about James' feelings when it came to a certain redhead, and to find out that someone you considered one of your closest and most trustworthy friends had cut a deal with the devil just because he lusted after the girl you loved was bound to be heart-wrenching. It had made them even more disgusted with Pettigrew.

"No one will even talk about him," Harry replied with a sneer. "If someone asks, tell them Pettigrew ran away yesterday. You guys have built up enough reputation for yourselves that it wouldn't surprise anyone. They'll just think it's another silly prank or something."

"Even the professors?"

"Especially the professors," Harry replied. "McGonagall in particular. Play ignorant, and use that Occlumency you've been working on. And for fuck's sake, take strength from this betrayal."

"You don't need to tell us that, Harry," Sirius growled. "The last thing I'll allow is for that rat to somehow take us down after finding out his true colors. He might have succeeded if things were different, but not anymore."

"Good," Harry nodded firmly.

"What did you all do to him?" Frank asked skeptically.

"Forced him to transform, threw him in an unbreakable jar, and handed him over to Harry. It's up to him what he does with that bastard. We did what we could do," James replied curtly, distaste apparent on his face. Frank nodded sympathetically, knowing it must have been very daunting. He turned to face Harry, and one look at his friend's face told him whatever it was, it was not pretty.

"Don't worry, Frank. I didn't kill him or anything. Although, if he does it to himself, then it's a different matter," he replied without even being asked. James and Sirius merely quirked their lips slightly downwards as they grimaced, but there was no further response from them.

"We should stop thinking about what's happened now. Things will start getting more serious after what happened to those heirs," Narcissa interjected for the first time, earning the attention of everyone inside the privacy ward. "Don't forget the bigger picture here. You know what's coming."

"I believe we'd have a little quiet on that front for a little while now," Harry remarked, steeling his fingers on the table. "They all lost their heirs. They won't take any risky approaches now. They will surely try to safeguard their families' futures."

"You mean breeding," Bellatrix intoned, earning a nod from Harry.

"Their focus would be mostly on ensuring the future of their cause which has effectively been wiped out," Harry continued. "But something tells me their master won't be so patient. He'd try to replace them."

"Makes sense. They're only a means to an end, after all."

"Exactly. But we can think about that later. For now, I believe there'd be something else this country will have to take care of," Harry muttered, staring at the day's issue of Daily Prophet whose front page covered the previous day's Wizengamot session. "The radicals won't stay silent."

-Break-

The dim light of the waxing crescent filtered through the tangled branches, casting an eerie glow over the gathered pack of werewolves. A massive creature, easily towering over most of them, stood atop a moss-covered boulder, his hulking frame silhouetted against the night sky. His yellow eyes gleamed with feral intensity as he addressed his underlings.

"Brothers and sisters!" he roared, his voice a guttural growl. "The wizards have shown their true colors once more. They seek to chain us, to corral us like mindless beasts!" Spittle flew from his mouth as he snarled. "But we will not be cowed! We will not be tamed!"

There was a chorus of roars and snarls as the werewolves cried out in rage.

"They slaughtered our kin for the unforgivable crime of having to survive in this cursed manner! A few days past, brothers and sisters of our pack were arrested after the foolish purebloods provoked them!" His eyes glinted with undisguised hatred. "And those wizarding scum repaid us with death for daring to survive! Killed, without even a trial!"

The pack descended into pandemonium, gnashing teeth and raking claws into the earth as their inner beasts strained against their fragile human shells.

Greyback lifted his arms, his rags of clothing hanging perilously from his powerfully muscled frame. His claws extended with a sickening scrape as his transformation began.

"They have declared war on our kind," he growled, fur sprouting across his face and body. "Their oppressive laws are a call to arms! We must make our resistance known! Let the very moon they fear turn dark with their fear!"

His body contorted grotesquely as he threw his head back, bones audibly crunching and his spine elongating as he completed his werewolf transformation.

"We will strike from the shadows!" the werewolf alpha's growl reverberated throughout the clearing. "Show no mercy to those who spawned this injustice! Burn their homes! Destroy their families! Turn them all! Show them what it feels to be what they hate so much! And if someone defies you, slaughter them all!"

The pack released a unified howl of bloodlust. Greyback leaped from the boulder, his immense claws leaving gouges in the rain-soaked soil as he landed.

"But we need greater numbers to make the wizards tremble!" His snout wrinkled in a vicious snarl. "Send emissaries to all werewolf clans! To the feral packs across the British Isles and beyond! Conscript every packless stray into our ranks by fur and fang! Paint their feral savagery onto our already blood-stained banner!"

With a thunderous uproar, the pack took off en masse, their haunting howls echoing through the night as an ominous prelude to the violence to come. Greyback led the charge, his howl a piercing battle cry.

The revolt had begun.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

The weeks that followed unfolded in a brutal caricature of violence and chaos across Wizarding Britain. Greyback's call to arms spread like wildfire among the werewolf packs throughout the isles, and the night skies became alive with howls and screams as the werewolves ran amok, spreading blood and carnage wherever they passed.

In a quaint village in Yorkshire, a platoon of aurors apparated in the midst of a massacre that looked to be straight out of one's nightmares. Werewolves, feral and turned despite it not being the night of the full moon, tore through patched roofs and splintered doors, their savage howls piercing the night as they rained down terror upon unsuspecting humans, killing and biting without prejudice. Spells flew in colorful arcs as the aurors battled the beasts, having been given orders to subdue the radicals by any means short of the unforgivables. However, for every werewolf they took down, another emerged from the shadows, unrelenting.

"Ossis fragmens!" The senior auror leading the platoon shouted, his bonebreaker striking a charging werewolf, downing it instantly. However, he suddenly cried out as another werewolf's claws raked across his back. Its vicious jaw opened wide, coming down to clamp right on his shoulder. However, before he could strike, a powerful blast of fire blew its head off, raining blood and gore over the auror who stumbled forward, breathing heavily as his junior arrived, quickly casting healing spells over his torn back.

The nights kept echoing with the screams of both the humans and the werewolves. During another attack, a young auror trainee, newly recruited and sent to the fight to fill up the ranks, found herself cornered, her wand arm shaking as she gazed, wide-eyed, at the three werewolves – one male and two distinctly female, that stalked toward her. She could see the feral eyes gleaming with greed and in a sudden burst of desperation, she let out a loud, shrill cry. A massive inferno of fire emerged from her wand, momentarily holding the beasts at bay. Fortunately, the inferno attracted the attention of her fellow aurors and trainees who quickly took care of the werewolves they were fighting and rushed toward her, attacking the three werewolves from behind with well-placed piercing curses straight to the napes of their necks, killing them instantly.

Meanwhile, elsewhere on another dark and chilly night in a more packed wizarding village, the glass windows of a shop shattered as a pack of werewolves rampaged through the streets, their howls and growls haunting in the dark. The cobblestone paths ran slick with blood as merchants and late-night shoppers fell prey to razor-sharp fangs and claws while a few more capable ones defended the village, killing over a dozen transformed werewolves. Almost all witches and wizards barricaded their doors, keeping protective enchantments active throughout and pouring all their efforts into sustaining them as they either aided their defendants or watched the chaos reigning outside in horror. The aurors that arrived were hard at work, stretched thin as they had been lately, and lethal spells kept raining down, killing and maiming more and more werewolves as their numbers kept thinning.

At the ministry, harried employees worked around the clock.

"Another attack reported in the outskirts of Willowbrook, north-east of the village near the bridge!" A breathless auror stationed in the ministry as a part of the response team shouted. The battalion that had arrived barely a minute ago was forced to depart instantly, leaving their injured behind as Millicent Bagnold, the Minister for Magic, watched on in horror alongside Bartemius Crouch Sr., the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"We're going to have to alert the muggles at this rate," she whispered. "Keeping those radicals contained in wizarding settlements won't be possible for much longer. We don't even know how many there are!"

Crouch nodded grimly.

Meanwhile, across wizarding Britain, multiple members of pureblood families remained huddled in their respective family manors, terrified and grim.

"The wards are falling!" The patriarch of one of the families who had advocated for the new laws cried out as he desperately sent most of the women and children to the safehouse via portkey while the men and women who were combat-ready stood prepared for the fight ahead. The same situation was unfolding with more families, most of them being the ones who had been in favor of the new werewolf legislation in the aftermath of that attack on the heirs of multiple pureblood families.

As if synchronized across the country, the sound of claws scraping stone echoed through the halls. Mere moments later, windows shattered as snarling werewolves poured in, numbering in dozens with their eyes gleaming with vengeance. The families' house elves fought alongside their masters and mistresses, aiding them with their unique magic, but none were able to stand for much longer in the face of such savagery. Barely any werewolf managed to escape with its life unscathed, but they did manage to ensure none of the witches or wizards did. That was their revenge, their lives forgettable in the face of their cause.

All over the country, hospitals were overwhelmed, and as the premier magical healing institution, St. Mungo's was not any different either. Healers kept working tirelessly, treating both civilian victims and wounded aurors.

"We're running out of Blood Replenishing Potions! And someone bring more Skele-gro!" One of the healers frantically shouted as he rushed past another incoming crowd of wounded, expertly dodging them.

All the hospitals had the highest concentration of aurors present to guard them against any possible assailants, both inside and outside the buildings.

Mediwitches and healers worked frantically, separating those who had been bitten from those who were not. They could not afford to have any attacks from the inside. Those who were bitten kept crying to be released from their confines but the aurors were unrelenting, their orders to keep them restricted absolute. Even children could not be spared the confinement, and it was evident in the aurors' demeanor how much they hated having to do this but knew they could not afford to overlook anything.

The numbers of injuries and casualties were fewer than the department had forecasted so far – something that stood as a testament to the efforts of the auror force in mitigating the attacks – but the situation was unfortunate all the same. At least it gave the Ministry a clue of how lacking they were in this department, and more budget had already been allocated to the DMLE.

It did not take long for factions to start forming across wizarding Britain. In the Ministry atrium, protesters kept clashing violently, forcing the auror force to divide its numbers and efforts.

"Protection for humans!"

"Rights for werewolves!"

The two sides were violent, and the aurors struggled to keep the peace as fists and hexes flew. The reporters from various newspapers frantically dodged the curses being fired, their Quick-Quotes Quills scribbling furiously as they documented the civilian strife.

The conflict was showing signs of having spilled overseas as well, with werewolves throughout Europe on the move to Britain, leaving carnage on their way. Already, discussions had been held among several member nations of the ICW on whether they should be interfering in what was quite clearly the internal affair of Wizarding Britain. In the end, they decided to focus only on their respective territories and all it caused was more strife with the werewolves in those nations as they were either captured or killed if they left the aurors with no choice.

Throughout Europe, the number of werewolves kept thinning over the weeks as the conflict kept rising. The toll was staggering after weeks of relentless attacks and counterattacks. Entire villages lay in ruins, parts of pureblood family manors destroyed with their patriarchs and most competent members having been killed, leaving most without an heir. Hundreds had been reported dead or missing, and the auror force was stretched to its breaking point.

The economic impact had also been severe. The goblins of Gringotts did not hesitate to impose strict new security measures, restricting access to the bank premises which slowed down transactions and threatened to cause a major financial panic if the noose was tightened even further. Many businesses in wizarding settlements, Diagon Alley, and Hogsmeade had closed, unable to operate in the climate of fear.

It was no surprise that a black market for silver weapons and protective amulets flourished in shady places like Knockturn Alley. Desperate witches and wizards were ready to pay exorbitant prices for anything that might keep the werewolves at bay. Crooked merchants peddled fake cures and dubious protective artifacts to the panicked populace, taking full advantage of their fear to make quick gold.

Meanwhile, the clashes between the civilians escalated after weeks of tension. Extremist groups emerged on both sides, gaining traction quickly. A militant anti-werewolf organization calling itself the 'Silver Fang' emerged, advocating for the complete eradication of werewolves for their crimes. Conversely, a radical pro-werewolf group known as the 'Lunar Liberation Front' began attacking known pureblood estates and businesses while targeting Ministry properties as well.

Hogwarts was not spared the tensions either. Students with known werewolf relatives started to face ostracism and bullying, and the professors and other students were hard at work to prevent any incidents. It was impossible to always succeed, and Dumbledore was forced to take extreme measures, announcing that any student found to have any involvement in such deplorable actions would be expelled on the spot.

The Gryffindor Common Room was, as had become the norm since the attacks started, a hive of tense activity, with clusters of students huddled about, mostly around copies of the Daily Prophet as they discussed the developments in hushed tones. The warmth of the fireplace did little to quell the chill of apprehension that had settled over the castle.

As usual, the front page presented a grim headline.

WEREWOLF ATTACKS CONTINUE: MINISTRY STRUGGLES TO CONTAIN THREATS

The Ministry had already published the first list of known werewolves a couple of days ago, and it had taken the entire school by surprise. There were dissenting voices against the headmaster and the professors for allowing werewolves to live amongst them for years, with several parents also expressing their anger and demanding answers.

In a corner near the window, James Potter paced back and forth, his brows furrowed. Sirius Black lounged in an armchair, his eyes worried. Their usual carefree demeanor had long become a thing of the past, and a sense of grim seriousness had replaced it.

"This is madness," James whispered, running a hand through his messy hair. "These attacks… these are only going to make things worse for everyone."

"They already have…" Frank replied grimly from his seat on the couch. "I never expected things would get so worse, especially at Hogwarts."

"Makes me kinda glad Moony's not here anymore," Sirius muttered. "No clue how he's been holding up, but it must be better than what he would've suffered here in the castle."

"It's not just Remus either," Fabian said quietly, sitting with his twin Gideon alongside Frank, their usual mischievous grins having vanished entirely. "Think of all the other werewolf students who are away from this place now."

"A lot of them are just trying to live out normal lives though," Gideon muttered. "They've also been thrown to the wolves, so to speak."

"These laws…" James chuckled humorlessly. "They've just thrown those people right into Greyback's arms. And all because of their prejudice against these creatures."

Frank massaged his temples, trying to stave off the headache as he gazed at them in concern. "I don't think this is only about the werewolves anymore," he said softly. "This is going to affect everything. How the ministry will work going forward, the public fear and their reaction… we're already seeing factions forming around the country… our whole society is changing."

"You're all right," a calm voice cut through the tension as Harry approached the group calmly, assuming his place by the fireplace as he leaned against the wall. "And that's why we need to think beyond this immediate crisis."

Despite being their age, he had an air of maturity and leadership about him that drew them in.

"Dealing with the werewolves is the Ministry's concern, and that includes the fallout of their legislation as well," Harry continued. The others listened attentively as Harry's face turned thoughtful. "Voldemort's still out there, biding his time. This werewolf situation… it's playing right into his hands."

Harry was not delusional. He knew how resourceful Voldemort was, and even though his plan of taking werewolves out from Voldemort's army while weakening his pureblood support had worked more or less flawlessly, he knew that the bastard was capable of coming up with something to not only overcome this setback but to profit from it as well. He hoped with all his might that he didn't, but he had to count on it. It was always better to prepare for the worst.

"Divide and conquer," James said disdainfully, earning a nod.

"Exactly," Harry agreed. "He will use this fear, this division, to his advantage. As Frank just said, factions have started to form. People are not united. We would be fools to think that he won't use this. When he makes his move…"

"The people will be too occupied with fighting amongst themselves to stand against him," Sirius finished grimly.

"What can we even do about this then?" Frank asked as he leaned forward, his hands clasped and his elbows resting on his thighs. "We can't just sit by and do nothing."

"We prepare," Harry replied, his eyes glinting. "We learn. We improve. We make connections… connections we wouldn't have thought of before… it's time to reach out and eliminate the divides that existed before. Always remember what we're fighting for here."

"For our future," James said firmly.

"For the innocents who have been and would be caught in the crossfire," Sirius added.

"We have a massive advantage over Voldemort right now," Harry continued, his hands comfortably nestled in his pockets as he gazed at their group. "He doesn't know about us, or our plans. But we do know about him and what he wants. There is no attention on us. We can do whatever we want, learn and become as capable as we can be… all the while being completely out of anyone's sight."

Sirius straightened in his chair, a spark returning to his eyes as he gazed at Harry. "All right then, oh wise leader. What's our move then?"

"Voldemort is the endgame," Harry replied. "Everything we do now is to prepare for him. And there's a lot we gotta do."

Attentive, everyone listened to Harry who stepped off the wall and joined them on the couch, explaining their way ahead.

-Break-

The Hogwarts library was quiet, with nothing but the rustling of parchment and the occasional whisper audible. Madam Pince, the strict librarian, sat high in her chair, her hawk-eyed gaze daring anyone to cause any ruckus and break the tranquil silence.

At a secluded table near the Restricted Section sat Lily Evans with her childhood friend Severus Snape, with stacks of books on the desk in front of them as their quills scribbled on their respective parchments. The warm glow of the lamplight cast long shadows across their faces as they pored over thick tomes and worked on their respective homework.

Every few seconds, Lily's focus would waver as her eyes would fall on the day's edition of the Daily Prophet placed on the desk by the side, its headline both foreboding and repulsive.

She had been avoiding reading the article the entire day, being in no mood to subject herself to the negativity it would induce. She had heard the words being thrown around by those who had read it, and all it did was make her even more agitated.

Finally, she set her quill back into the inkpot and with a sigh, the redhead reached over, dragging the newspaper to herself. Her lips pursed as she read the headline, tracing the words with her fingers as if trying to make full sense of them through touch alone.

"It's horrible, Sev," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "These new laws, these attacks… it's as if everyone's lost their minds at once. Listen to this: 'Twenty more werewolves were killed in the attacks last night when they attempted to destroy the village of Brackenford, including four civilians who attempted to fight them off until the aurors could arrive.'"

Snape nodded dispassionately, his dark eyes glinting in the lamplight as they remained trained on the parchment, his quill still scribbling nonstop.

"It was bound to happen eventually. Werewolves are dangerous creatures. After what they did to Lucius, Rudolphus, Rabastan, and the rest, they shouldn't be surprised. The Ministry has only been doing what it must to protect people."

Lily frowned, tucking a stray strand of crimson hair behind her ear as she gazed at the moving image on the front page. It was grim, and she was surprised that they had not censored it in any form.

"The werewolves are people too, Sev. People with an affliction they didn't choose. They're victims. This law… it's treating them like animals."

"Aren't they, though?" Snape asked, his lips curling in disdain. "Earlier, it was once a month. But now, we're seeing cases of permanent transformation. Substance abuse. People like Lupin, for instance. I always knew there was something off about him."

Lily's hands tensed, her grip tightening on the newspaper. "This isn't about Remus. It is about innocent families being persecuted. Families torn apart. Lives ruined… There are radicals, but most of them are innocents who are forced to do something or they would either die or be killed either way."

"Innocent?" Snape scoffed, taking his eyes off his parchment as he straightened and leaned back in his chair, putting his quill away. "They're monsters, Lily. We used to think it was only once a month, but now? Who knows what they might do whenever they wish? Always hiding, always lying…"

"Sev, please," Lily said, exasperation creeping into her voice. "Can we focus on the bigger picture here? This law was brought to make lives easier, but all it has done is create uncontrolled violence and dissent amongst the masses. People are being forced to go into hiding. They're getting desperate. Innocents are losing their lives, including the werewolves. It has made things much worse, not better."

"Good," Snape muttered, his eyes darting toward the Restricted Section. "The further away those monsters are, the better. It was my luck that I didn't go to Hogsmeade with the others that day, otherwise I would've been their food myself. They're barbaric monsters. I'm sure there are books over there in the Restricted Section that could teach us how to permanently deal with their kind."

Lily pushed the newspaper to the side where it fell over the edge of the table and onto the floor. Madam Pince easily spotted it and gave the redhead a sharp look, who grimaced and picked it up, folding it properly and putting it by the side.

Turning back to Snape, she glared.

"You don't mean that," she hissed, leaning slightly over the table. "Listen to yourself right now!"

"I mean exactly what I said," Snape leaned forward as well, matching her intensity. "Think about this, Lily. Lupin's been here for years, pretending to be normal. Just like us. Who knows what could've happened? What if he'd lost control? We all would've been in grave danger."

"But the point is that nothing happened," Lily replied firmly, her emerald eyes blazing. "We can keep talking about what ifs and could've beens, but what matters is the fact. And the fact is that nothing ever happened. Remus is a kind person. He's never hurt anyone."

"Is that so? He's kind, hmm?" Snape's eyes narrowed. "I guess you didn't see what he's been doing to the others over the years in the name of pranks. He runs with Potter and Black! He's just as bad as they are. Forget the others, have you forgotten all the times they've tormented me?"

Lily took a deep breath as she leaned back properly in her seat, trying to calm herself. The mere mention of James' name brought back the memories of what had been happening between them for the last few weeks, and she did not want to think about it.

"Look. This isn't about your little quarrel with Potter and Black. We're talking about innocent people's lives being destroyed because of an unjust law. We're seeing the proof right in front of our eyes. I've seen how sad they all have been since Remus had to leave Hogwarts. Can't you see past your personal grudges for once, Sev?"

"Unjust law?" Snape sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's about damn time the Ministry did something to protect normal wizards from those beasts. Or would you rather wait until someone gets bitten? Or killed? Wait… it happened already! And it would've happened to me as well if I hadn't remained in the castle!"

It seemed as if someone had poured cold water on her for a moment as Lily simply stared at a sneering Severus Snape. Marlene's words came rushing to the forefront of her mind, talking about the true face of the one she called her best friend, and how she was choosing to remain blind when it came to him.

"Normal wizards?" Lily's voice came out in a growl, rising slightly, and drawing curious glances from the nearest occupied tables that happened to still be two tables away. "What exactly do you mean by that, Severus? Who gets to decide what's normal?"

Snape faltered for a moment, realizing that he had treaded onto dangerous ground. "I just meant… people who are not afflicted. Who are not werewolves and who don't pose a danger to others. Surely you can see the difference?"

"Right," Lily drawled, her voice and gaze icy. "And I suppose you have opinions on who else might not be 'normal' enough? Muggleborns, perhaps? Or would be it another word you'd like to use?"

"That's not what I meant," Snape backpedaled, his pale face flushing slightly. "You know I'd never… I'm just saying… Lupin and his kind"

"His kind?" Lily stood up suddenly, her emerald eyes blazing and her chair scraping loudly against the floor. Her gaze was disdainful, filled with a mixture of anger and disappointment. "Listen to yourself, Severus! You sound just like those pureblood supremacists. 'His kind'? What next? You'll say rounding them up and putting special marks on their robes would be right as well? Just like the Ministry did, at the behest of the same pureblood supremacists?"

"You're not thinking properly about this, Lily," Snape protested, now standing up as well. Several students were openly staring now, and Madam Pince had already stood up to move out of her seat and get over to tear into them. "I'm just being realistic about the danger"

"The danger?" Lily's voice was trembling now, barely contained fury evident in every syllable. Marlene's words were ringing in her ears. James' voice was ringing in her ears. She glared at Snape with unhidden disgust. "The real danger is this kind of prejudice. It's people like you, spreading fear and hatred, that is tearing our world apart! Don't you see? This is exactly how it starts. First, it's werewolves. Then who? Muggleborns like me? Half-bloods? Purebloods who don't agree with you? It never ends!"

"Lily, please," Snape begged, realizing he had made a massive lapse in judgment and gone too far. "I didn't mean it like that! You know how much I care for you! I'd never think"

"Did you use that vile word for muggleborns when you were working on that Defense project with Marlene?" Lily asked curtly, glaring, and Snape felt as if someone had kicked him in the gut. His eyes widened, and Lily's breath hitched. Her world felt as if it had come crumbling down around her, as she realized Marlene had indeed been telling the truth.

She had thought Severus was different. She had thought he understood what it felt like to be judged unfairly. She had always defended him when people said he was wrong and was headed down a dark path. She had always insisted he was a good person.

But now… now she knew how wrong she had been. It had taken her so long to realize that he was just as bad as the rest of his former friends who were not dead, killed by radical werewolves.

'Maybe even worse, considering his past,' Lily couldn't help but think, her disgust overwhelming her. She worked quickly, gathering her books and stationery and stuffing them haphazardly into her bag.

"Lily, wait" Snape reached out to grab her arm, but she quickly jerked away before he could even touch her. Even being in his presence felt vile now.

"Don't you dare come close to me," Lily hissed, glaring hatefully at Snape who stared at her with wide, disbelieving eyes. "I don't even know who you really are, Severus. The boy I grew up with… he would've seen the injustice in this. He would've cared. And he would've never become a prejudicial racist of such high order to ever utter those vile words about anyone! It's ignorant racists like you who use their power to ruin innocent lives!"

Snape stilled, his fear and concern evaporating entirely as he registered those two words she had called him. His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at her glaring visage.

She knew. She knew what it was like at his home. She knew what his monster of a father was like. She knew why he treated him and his mother the way he did. And for her to call him that!?

Snape lost it. His wand flew in his hand at a moment's notice as he leveled it at the only true friend he had left, at least until a few minutes ago.

"What did you just call me, you filthy mudblood!?" Snape asked in a dangerous whisper, and Lily stilled, her eyes wide and unseeing as she registered what Severus, her childhood friend, had just called her. Her hands shook, her body shivering, as she gazed at his livid face that was filled with so much hatred that she had trouble believing this was the same Severus Snape she had met years ago.

Suddenly, there was a loud explosion and Lily watched in disbelief as Severus was flung back against a massive shelf, his wand clattering on the floor. A loud grunt forced its way out of him as he slumped over, with multiple books falling all over him. One thick tome with metallic bindings over it fell right on top of his head, knocking him out.

All this while, Lily remained rooted to the spot, her mind blank. She didn't even notice that her bag had fallen off or how tightly she was gripping her Hogwarts robes as tears slowly trickled down her unblinking eyes that remained trained on the fallen figure of her former friend.

"Lily! Are you okay!?"

The redhead barely registered the frantic and concerned voice of Marlene who rushed over with Alice in tow, both having been seated a few tables away from her. The two girls arrived, and Alice quickly grabbed her cheeks, wiping her tears off as she shook her gently.

"Lily?" The brunette asked cautiously, frowning when she didn't respond. The tears kept coming, and they both bit their lower lips softly, wrapping their arms around their friend who remained unresponsive, her eyes fixated on the unconscious wizard.

"Come on, let's get out of here," Alice said softly, earning a nod from Marlene who dropped to pick up Lily's things and slung the bag over her shoulder. The two girls slowly led their friend toward the exit of the library where they were met by Madam Pince who arrived with her lips pursed. Her eyes, usually strict and full of warning, softened slightly as she gazed at a stoic Lily whose tears showed no signs of stopping, and she gave them a small nod.

"I shall take care of things here," the librarian said, allowing the girls to leave. She turned to the gathered crowd and raised a curt eyebrow, watching how they quickly got back to what they had been doing. Her eyes darted from one side of the library to the other and slowly, she walked over to where Snape remained buried under dozens of books, unconscious.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

The sun was setting over Hogwarts as Marlene and Alice gently guided a trembling Lily to their secret spot by the Black Lake. The weeping willow's branches swayed gently, creating a curtain of privacy around them as they settled on the soft grass. The golden light of dusk painted the scene in warm hues, a stark contrast to the turmoil in Lily's heart.

As soon as they were seated, Lily broke down completely. Her sobs were raw and heart-wrenching, her entire body shaking with the force of her grief. Alice immediately wrapped her arms around Lily, pulling her close, while Marlene held her hand tightly, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"Oh, Lily," Marlene whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm so, so sorry. I can't imagine how much you're hurting right now."

She could not bring herself to state how she'd been repeatedly trying to tell her about Snape's true colors, hoping that she'd listen. Now was not the time to feed egos.

Alice stroked Lily's hair soothingly, fighting back her own tears as she watched her friend fall apart. "Let it out, Lils. We're here for you. We've got you."

Lily clung to her friends as if they were lifelines in a storm. "I trusted him," she choked out between sobs. "I defended him. And he... he called me that horrible word. How could he?"

Marlene's heart broke for her friend. She exchanged a pained look with Alice and said softly, "Lily, sweetie, I know you cared for Snape deeply. Your capacity for love and forgiveness... it's beautiful. But it's not your fault that he couldn't live up to the person you believed him to be."

Alice nodded, her voice gentle. "You saw the best in him, Lily. That's who you are. It's one of the things we love most about you. Your kindness, your ability to see the good in others... it's precious. Don't let this tarnish that part of you."

Lily's emerald eyes, usually so vibrant, were now dull with pain and swimming with tears. "I feel so lost," she whispered. "Like I don't know who I am without him. He was my link to this world, my first magical friend..."

Marlene felt her own tears spill over. She wrapped her arms around both Lily and Alice, creating a cocoon of warmth and support. "Oh, Lils. You are so much more than your connection to Snape. You're brilliant, kind, fiercely loyal... You're Lily Evans, and you're amazing all on your own."

Alice nodded emphatically, her voice thick with emotion. "Marlene's right. You've impacted so many lives here at Hogwarts, Lily, made so many connections. You're loved for who you are, not because of any connection to Snape."

Lily's sobs had quieted to hiccups, but the pain in her eyes was still raw. "I just... I keep thinking about all our memories. Were they all lies? Was he always this person, and I just refused to see it?"

Marlene stroked Lily's hair gently. "People change, Lily. The boy you knew as a child... maybe he really was that person then. But the choices he's made... they've led him down a dark path."

Alice nodded solemnly. "And it's not your responsibility to save him from those choices, Lily. You can't sacrifice yourself trying to change someone who doesn't want to change."

Lily's voice was small, vulnerable. "I feel so stupid. Everyone tried to warn me... Even you, Marlene… But"

"No," Marlene said firmly, cutting her off. "You are not stupid, Lily Evans. You're one of the most intelligent, compassionate people I know. Your ability to see the best in others is a gift, even if sometimes people don't deserve it."

Alice cupped Lily's face in her hands, looking directly into her eyes. "Lily, listen to me. You have such a big heart. You gave Snape more chances than he deserved because that's who you are. It's not a weakness to be kind."

Lily's lower lip trembled. "But it hurts so much..."

Both Marlene and Alice tightened their embrace. "Of course it does," Marlene murmured. "You're grieving, Lily. Not just the loss of a friendship, but the loss of who you thought he was. It's okay to be sad, to be angry, to feel betrayed."

Alice nodded, wiping her own tears that were falling freely now. "We're here for you, Lily. Every step of the way. You don't have to go through this alone."

As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the grounds, the three friends sat in silence, sharing comfort and warmth, soothing the pain in Lily's heart.

"I don't know what I'd do without you both," Lily whispered, her voice hoarse from crying.

Marlene pressed a soft kiss to Lily's temple. "You'll never have to find out. We're here, always."

Alice nodded, squeezing Lily's hand. "Exactly. We've got you, Lily. And we're never going anywhere."

"Even if you can be a blockhead and refuse to listen sometimes," Marlene added teasingly, making Lily let out a watery laugh. Sharing a gentle smile with Alice, she wrapped her arms tighter around her friend and allowed her to bury her face in her hair.

It was hurting her now, but she knew how necessary it was for Lily to see Snape's true face. Her friend would only come out stronger from this. She was sure of it.

-Break-

The moonlight cast long shadows through the windows of Hogwarts as Harry, Narcissa, and Bellatrix made their way through the silent corridors. Their footsteps echoed softly off the stone walls, occasionally interrupted by the distant hooting of an owl or the ominous sound of winds blowing through the massive windows.

They ascended the massive staircase and reached the seventh floor, walking through the corridor until they reached their destination. As always, Harry stepped forward and paced before the blank wall, concentrating. An ornate door materialized out of nowhere and he pushed it open, walking inside with the two young women following behind him.

The room that greeted them was a familiar one, with intricate runic markings and a star painted on the stone floor. There was a seating area near the wall facing an ornate fireplace where embers flickered to life as they approached, casting a warm glow over the area. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with thick tomes that would have had a bookworm salivating at the mere sight of them.

They settled in silence, with Harry taking his place between the two witches who wasted no time in cuddling up to him. He let out a contented sigh, basking in their warmth and comfort, knowing how much they were doing the same with him as well. However, they all knew the peace could not last for long, and it was Narcissa who broached the subject.

"So, Harry," she began, her tone cautious, "about these werewolf regulations..."

Harry sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. What she wanted to talk about was not something new. He had constantly pondered on the issue ever since these attacks had started, knowing how controversial a decision it had been.

"I know," he said softly. "You know how it is. It's… Well… It's complicated."

Bellatrix gently stroked his chest, her other hand wrapped around his waist as she held herself in his embrace. Her dark eyes were intense as they gazed at his tense visage. "Complicated is an understatement, isn't it? The riots have been going on for weeks now. There's been so much loss of life and property. We know this was important, but was there truly no other way?"

Harry let out a small sigh, his expression grave. "It was a calculated risk. We knew Voldemort was gaining support among werewolf communities. Greyback's influence was growing. We needed a way to create a rift between them."

"And you used the law to do it, which worked brilliantly as well. Still…" Bellatrix trailed off.

"The laws are harsh," Harry admitted. "But I knew the most radical elements will be the only ones to act out. The ones that would've aligned with Voldemort without any hesitation whatsoever. The moderate werewolves will never commit murder and arson, for they are good people at heart. They would see this radical faction as the cause of their troubles. After all, those werewolves are the ones still proving that people were right to fear them."

"Not to mention where it all came from," Narcissa added. "As far as anyone knows, this happened only because a group of rogue werewolves attacked Malfoy and his pureblood cronies, which enraged the purebloods and turned them fully against their kind."

"Exactly. The moderates will never justify a violent response, not when unprovoked murder and cannibalism triggered it," Harry said firmly.

Narcissa frowned. "Still, it's been a dangerous game, Harry. The backlash has been severe. Many innocents have"

"I know," Harry cut her off, his voice heavy with the weight of his decisions, and both Narcissa and Bellatrix tightened their grasp on him, conveying their silent support to their beloved in his time of moral fatigue. They knew what burden he was carrying, particularly after learning how he had brought so much pain and suffering upon scores of innocents who frankly did not deserve it. "Only a little bit more. Once the radicals are taken care of, we can start proposing amendments to the legislation, and I'm positive that the Wizengamot will be eager to let them pass now. The heat will have passed and with Malfoy and his people being much weaker politically, it would be easier to make justified laws. Human rights. Employment programs. It's going to be slow, but we'd be making progress with them for the first time in history."

"A bit like how you need to destroy something first to build it," Bellatrix whispered, earning a nod from her boyfriend.

"Sounds morbid, but sometimes, it's necessary," he replied. "The radicals, especially those belonging to Greyback's faction, singlehandedly worsened the already degraded reputation of werewolves through their violent and cruel tendencies. Those need to be wiped off clean from the face of this planet, and only then could we hope for some healing. The remaining werewolves want nothing but to live their lives like normal human beings, and they deserve nothing less. Just a bit more and we'll be exactly where I've been hoping for."

"And they will never join Voldemort's ranks either," Narcissa remarked. "You know… given what we've seen of the werewolves in these past few weeks, a part of me is massively relieved that Voldemort wouldn't have such a powerful faction at his fingertips. Morgana, I don't even want to imagine what kind of untold damage they'd cause if they had someone like him directing their actions. At least right now, most of their wrath has been centered on purebloods who advocated for these laws, the areas around their lands, and the businesses they own."

"That is another aspect of this endeavor that I had counted upon," Harry remarked. "With their businesses hit, it will take them a while to get back on their feet and it could allow their competitors to gain a foothold. Even if they don't take over the market, they would mostly be able to compete well now. The lesser profits those Death Eater families make, the better it is for everyone."

"There are reports of many witches and wizards from those families dying, and they've left behind women and children."

"Indeed," Harry nodded. "Which means reduced political power. Let's be honest. Those pathetic wizards have kept their wives behind the walls their entire lives, making them worth nothing more than armcandy to show off on their lavish galas and events. Now, the very same women will hold proxies for the heirs or heiresses. Quite an irony, and one that benefits us significantly. Already, our people are at work to establish a network with the women from these families, offering them aid in their hour of need. Voldemort cannot hope to win over us in the political spectrum. This debacle has ensured this. And now, he has a severe lack of elite pureblood support as well, given what happened to Malfoy and his pricks, and now many more elite purebloods as well."

"Which means what you set out to achieve has been done," Bellatrix remarked.

Harry nodded, his green eyes reflecting his determination. "More or less. There have been setbacks that I anticipated – mostly the innocents that have suffered, and I'll always shoulder the blame for it. But if it helps bring us one step closer to defeating Voldemort... it'll be worth it."

"We'll carry this burden with you, Harry," Narcissa replied, earning a firm nod from her twin. "Don't forget, more innocents would've suffered even more severely if this didn't happen. You didn't condemn them. You minimized their suffering as much as you could."

All Harry could do was sigh and lean back, taking solace in their presence. It was a thought indeed, although it brought him little comfort. He had brought suffering upon innocents after all. Did it truly matter if they would've probably suffered more if he hadn't done it? Perhaps, but it was such a morally gray area that he did not think he was the right person to answer.

All he could do was affirm himself and move forward with the consequences of the choice he had made. After all, there would be many more questionable actions he knew he would need to undertake if he wanted to end the threat of Voldemort for good.

-Break-

"All right… we should get started now," Bellatrix remarked as she extracted herself from Harry's embrace and pushed herself to her feet, holding a hand out for her twin who grabbed on and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet as well.

From his spot on the couch, Harry stared at the two young women with pursed lips.

"I still don't like that you're doing this."

"Just as we didn't want you to do it either, but you still went through with it and we understood the necessity, so we're asking you to do the same with us now," Narcissa said firmly, her eyes narrowed in a glare. Harry stared at her helplessly, silently requesting her to stop, but Narcissa was set in her path and she had decided long ago.

Turning to Bellatrix, Harry knew at first glance that he would get no help there. The brunette was even more determined than her twin, her desire to ensure they all had the highest chance to come out unscathed from the upcoming war palpable in the fierce gleam he could discern in her gaze.

"Yeah, I know what you're gonna say already," he said dryly, earning a smirk from her.

"Damn right. So be a good little boyfriend and allow us to support you like this. Also, it's our body and our right to choose."

Harry raised his hands in surrender, knowing better than to say anything untoward when they were like this.

He truly did not like them having to do this, even though he had done the same thing himself. He knew they had all the right and they were doing it only to be as supportive to him as they could possibly be, but them resorting to the same ritual did put a sour taste in his mouth, particularly when he considered the sacrifice was greater for them. He had two boons remaining, but they will only have one.

Magic worked mysteriously, and there were conditions to alchemy that would dictate the fulfillment of any ritual. He had sacrificed his ability to have more than two children, but both Narcissa and Bellatrix were giving up any chance they had to be mothers for the second time. Once they gave birth to a living child, the conditions of the ritual would be fulfilled, both for him and them, and neither could have any more children thereafter.

It was a massive risk. There had been cases in the Wizarding World wherein a child had died hours after birth because its young body could not sustain the influx of magic coursing through it. Such cases were not common but they did happen, and Merlin forbid, if something similar did happen to either of them, there was no coming back.

This was the biggest reason why Narcissa and Bellatrix had been so vehemently against him conducting this ritual, only for him to point out the necessity of the same and go ahead with it anyway. It was quite ironical how the tables had turned, for he found himself in their shoes now, wishing they turned around and declined to go ahead with the ritual.

Alas, there was no swaying them now, not when it came to doing what was necessary in their opinion over what was easy.

Silently, Harry watched as they disrobed and joined them near the site, his eyes fixated on the star that began to slowly react in quite a familiar fashion as the ritual began.

There was no turning back for any of them now.

-Break-

The full moon loomed ominously over the Scottish Highlands, its pale light illuminating the devastation below. The once-picturesque village of Glencoe lay in ruins, smoke rising from the charred remnants of cottages and shops. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burning wood, mingled with the metallic tang of blood.

Auror Alastor Moody crouched behind a crumbling stone wall, his eyes darting about ceaselessly as they scanned the chaotic scene around him. Sweat beaded on his brow, mixing with the grime and soot that covered his face. His robes were torn and stained with blood – some his, most not.

"Savage, on your left!" Moody barked, his voice hoarse from hours of shouting commands.

Auror Savage, a young man with a shock of red hair, spun on his heel, wand raised. A massive werewolf, its muzzle dripping with fresh blood, was mid-leap towards him. Without hesitation, Savage fired off a Blasting Curse that caught the beast in the chest. The werewolf exploded in a gruesome spray of blood, bone, and matted fur.

Savage stumbled back, wiping gore from his face with a shaking hand. "Merlin's beard," he gasped, "We can't keep this up forever, Alastor. There's too many of them."

Moody grunted in agreement, his practiced auror eyes moving wildly to track multiple threats at once. "Stay focused, lad. Remember your training."

Across the village square, another group of aurors was locked in a fierce duel with multiple werewolves. Their faces were set in grim determination as they fended off their relentless attacks. "Incarcerous!" one of the aurors shouted, and thick ropes burst from his wand, wrapping around one of the beasts. The werewolf howled in rage, thrashing against its bonds.

The second werewolf used this moment of distraction to lunge at him. With lightning-fast reflexes, he shouted, "Diffindo!"

The curse sliced through the air, opening deep gashes across the werewolf's chest. It fell to the ground, whimpering and twitching.

A crack of Apparition cut through the din of battle. Bartemius Crouch Sr. appeared in the center of the square, his neatly pressed robes a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding him. His eyes were cold and hard as he surveyed the scene.

"Report, Moody," he demanded, striding towards the senior Auror.

Moody emerged from his cover, limping slightly. "It's a bloodbath, " he growled. "Greyback's pack hit three villages tonight. We've taken down at least two dozen, but more keep coming. They're in a frenzy like I've never seen."

As if to emphasize his point, a chorus of howls rose from the nearby forest. Crouch's face hardened, his jaw clenching. "The Ministry has authorized the use of Unforgivables," he said, his voice low and tense. "End this. Permanently."

Moody nodded grimly, turning to address the scattered Aurors. "You heard him, lads! Killing Curses authorized!"

A murmur ran through the ranks. Some looked relieved, others hesitant. Auror Emmeline Vance, her round face set in determination, was the first to act. "Avada Kedavra!" she cried, her wand pointed at an approaching werewolf. The beast dropped instantly, lifeless.

Her initiative seemed to have given them the impetus and the battle intensified as the Aurors began using the greatest lethal force there possibly was. Green flashes of light illuminated the night as Killing Curses flew. Werewolves fell left and right, but for every beast that dropped, another seemed to take its place.

In the midst of the fray, young Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt found himself cornered by three snarling werewolves. His dark skin glistened with sweat as he cast a powerful Shield Charm, buying himself precious seconds. "I need backup!" he shouted, his deep voice carrying across the battlefield.

Moody heard the call and turned to assist, but a massive grey werewolf – Fenrir Greyback himself – blocked his path. The werewolf's yellow eyes gleamed with malice as it circled the grizzled Auror.

"Come on then, you mangy mutt," Moody snarled, raising his wand.

Greyback lunged, impossibly fast, and Moody barely had time to cast a silent Confringo before the werewolf was upon him. The Blasting Curse caught Greyback in the shoulder, tearing away a chunk of flesh, but the momentum of his attack carried him forward.

Moody felt white-hot pain as Greyback's claws raked across his face. He stumbled backward, blood pouring from the deep gashes. Through the haze of pain, he saw Greyback preparing for another attack.

Suddenly, a voice rang out: "Avada Kedavra!" A jet of green light struck Greyback in the chest. The massive werewolf's eyes widened in shock before he crumpled to the ground, dead.

As Moody looked over, he found Rufus Scrimgeour standing there, his wand still raised, his tawny hair wild around his face. "Alright there, Alastor?" he asked, helping Moody to his feet.

Before Moody could respond, a piercing howl echoed through the village. The remaining werewolves, sensing the loss of their leader, began to retreat into the forest.

"Press the advantage!" Crouch shouted. "Don't let them regroup!"

The Aurors surged forward, firing curses into the fleeing pack. Howls of pain and anger filled the air as more werewolves fell.

As dawn began to break, an eerie silence settled over Glencoe. The Aurors, exhausted and bloodied, began the grim task of assessing casualties and securing the area.

Moody limped towards Crouch, his face a mask of blood from Greyback's attack. "It's over," he said gruffly. "For now."

Crouch nodded, his face impassive. "Gather the wounded. I'll contact St. Mungo's for emergency Healers." He paused, surveying the devastation around them. "And Moody... good work tonight. All of you."

Moody watched as his fellow Aurors tended to the wounded and covered the dead. The fight had been brutal, the methods extreme, but necessary. As he'd always said: Constant Vigilance. In these dark times, it was the only way to survive.

-Break-

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Alastor Moody stood amidst the ruins of Glencoe, his eyes whirring ceaselessly as they scanned the aftermath of the night's carnage. The acrid smell of smoke and blood still hung heavy in the air, mingling with the earthy scent of the Scottish Highlands. Around him, Aurors and emergency Healers from St. Mungo's moved with grim purpose, tending to the wounded and collecting the dead.

Moody's face throbbed where Greyback's claws had struck, the makeshift bandages already soaked through with blood. He'd refused immediate treatment, insisting the Healers focus on those in more dire need. Pain was an old friend to Moody; he embraced it and used it to keep his mind sharp.

He limped towards a fallen stone wall, lowering himself onto it with a grunt. From this vantage point, he could survey the entire village – or what was left of it. Cottages were reduced to smoldering rubble, the town square pockmarked with spell damage, and everywhere, he could see the unmistakable signs of savage violence perpetrated by Greyback and his beasts.

Moody's gnarled hands clenched into fists as he reflected on the night's events. The authorization of Unforgivable Curses had turned the tide, yes, but at what cost? He'd seen the hesitation in some of the younger Aurors' eyes, the momentary flicker of doubt before they cast their first Killing Curse. That hesitation could get them killed in the future, or worse, make them question their purpose, their resolve.

"Constant vigilance," he muttered to himself, his mantra a cold comfort in the face of such carnage.

His thoughts turned to Barty Crouch Sr. and the Ministry's response to the werewolf threat. The use of Unforgivables was unprecedented in peacetime, a measure typically reserved for the darkest of wars. Moody understood the necessity – he'd seen firsthand the destruction Greyback's pack had wrought – but he couldn't shake the feeling that a line had been crossed, one they couldn't uncross.

What would the fallout be? Moody wondered. The wizarding public might applaud the Ministry's decisive action now, relieved to see an end to the terror that had gripped their communities. But in time, when the fear subsided, would they look back on this night with the same certainty? Would historians judge them as protectors or oppressors?

And what of the werewolves themselves? Not all had participated in Greyback's crusade of violence. Moody had met a few over the years – decent folk cursed with a terrible affliction, struggling to maintain their humanity. He had an idea of how they would be treated in the wake of this conflict, and it did not please him one bit.

Moody's gaze shifted, focusing on a group of Aurors covering a row of bodies with sheets. Among them, unmistakable even in death, was the massive form of Fenrir Greyback. The notorious werewolf's demise should have filled Moody with satisfaction, but instead, he felt only a grim weariness.

Greyback's death would deal a significant blow to the radical werewolf movement, that Moody was certain of. The pack had lost its alpha, its driving force. But nature abhors a vacuum, and Moody had been an Auror long enough to know that someone would inevitably step up to fill Greyback's role. Would this new leader be as vicious, as committed to spreading lycanthropy as a weapon? Or might they be more moderate, potentially open to negotiation?

The grizzled Auror sighed heavily, running a hand through his sweat, dirt, grime, and blood-soaked hair. The struggle was far from over. Greyback's death might mark the end of this particular campaign, but the underlying issues remained unresolved. The marginalization of werewolves, the fear and prejudice they faced, the oppressive laws that the Wizengamot had passed – those were the kindling that had allowed Greyback's radical ideology to catch fire in the first place.

Moody's thoughts were interrupted by the approach of Rufus Scrimgeour, his tawny hair matted with blood and dirt.

"Alastor," Scrimgeour nodded, his voice gruff with exhaustion. "Crouch wants a full debrief in an hour. We're to report directly to the Minister after."

Moody grunted in acknowledgment. "Any word on casualties?"

Scrimgeour's face tightened. "Still counting. At least a dozen civilians, maybe more. We lost eighteen Aurors, another thirty critically injured."

The numbers hit Moody like a physical blow. Good witches and wizards, gone in a single night of savagery. How long could they sustain such losses? How long before the weight of this conflict broke them all?

As Scrimgeour moved on to inform the other senior Aurors, Moody pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the protest of his battered body. There would be time for rest later, time for healing and reflection. For now, there was work to be done.

He cast one last look over the ruined village, his trained eyes taking in every detail. The sun was fully up now, its warm light at odds with the grim scene it illuminated.

Life would go on, Moody knew. It always did. But as he turned to join his fellow Aurors, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were standing on the precipice of something larger, something darker. The werewolf attacks, as brutal as they were, felt like a prelude. To what, Moody couldn't say, but his instincts – honed by years in the field – told him to be prepared.

"Constant vigilance," he muttered once more, straightening his torn robes. Whatever came next, whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them head-on, unflinching. It was all he knew how to do.

As he limped towards the gathering of Aurors, ready to plan their next moves, Moody allowed himself one last thought: in the face of such darkness, such brutality, how long could the light hold out? And when the dust settled, what kind of world would they be left with?

Only time would tell. For now, there was work to be done, a report to be given, and a long, difficult road ahead.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

A group of students sat in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, the warmth doing little to dispel the cold atmosphere that permeated the castle. The events outside had shaken every person inside, the news that trickled in making them struggle to find anything positive in recent developments.

James' eyes were dark with concern as he ran a hand through his perpetually messy black hair. "I can't believe it's come to this," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Using Unforgivables... it's madness."

Sirius was sprawled in an armchair opposite James, his aristocratic features set in a scowl. He nodded grimly, having been as shocked when he'd read the article. "It's all gone bonkers," he muttered, his fists clenching and unclenching rhythmically. "I know taking those rabid mutts down was important, but Unforgivables… that's going too far."

Frank looked torn as he gazed at the fireplace. His eyes glowed with reflected ambers and he sighed, turning around. "But what choice did they have?" he asked, his expression grave. "Greyback and his pack... they were monsters. They were killing innocent people, children even. Dozens of aurors are either dead or out of service because of that one attack." He paused, swallowing hard. "I knew someone in Glencoe... they barely managed to survive the werewolf attack. If the Aurors hadn't used everything at their disposal..."

He trailed off, unwilling to finish the thought. Everyone grimaced at the thought, knowing more aurors and civilians would have been either killed or turned if the aurors had not resorted to permanent solutions.

Beside him, his girlfriend Alice sat cross-legged on the couch, her heart-shaped face creased with worry. She squeezed his arm comfortingly as she spoke up, "It's not just about Greyback though, is it? He's dead, and what remains of his pack is probably on the run. But this won't end so easily. What about the other werewolves? The ones who weren't part of his attacks? They'll suffer for this too."

"They were already going to suffer. Those laws made sure of that," Harry interjected with a frown. "There is nothing anyone could have done about the werewolves who chose to attack innocents, and I'm sure you'll all agree that they deserved to be put down for everything they've done, and not only over the past few weeks."

"But using the Unforgivables, Harry?" Alice asked softly, making him grimace.

"That is a genuine concern, and something I never thought they would do against the werewolves," Harry replied, sighing. "This is going to have far-reaching consequences. The Ministry's actions might have stopped Greyback and his pack, but at what cost?"

James leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "That's what worries me," he admitted. "It's like we've opened Pandora's box. Where do we draw the line now? If Unforgivables are okay against werewolves, what's next? Using them against any criminal?"

Sirius barked out a humorless laugh. "Oh, I'm sure my dear mother would be thrilled," he said bitterly. "Bet she's raising a toast to Barty Crouch right now, the old hag."

"And then you wonder why people think you're wild and crass," a new female voice chided gently and they looked over to see Marlene walk over and plant herself on the arm of the chair Sirius sat in. The boy grimaced and leaned away, not that the blonde cared as she made herself comfortable, resting her elbow on the chair's backrest.

There were a few amused looks directed at the pair, everyone having already seen how they both seemed to be tiptoeing around each other since the school year had begun. However, it seemed Marlene had had enough of his running away as she had begun to make approaches whenever she could. She had not missed how Sirius had changed this year, having seen him with no one, nor had she heard him frequenting broom closets like a deviant.

"I overheard Professor McGonagall talking to Professor Flitwick earlier," Alice began, her voice low. "They're worried that werewolf students won't be allowed at Hogwarts anymore."

Frank let out a small sigh. "It is really that surprising? People don't have a very good opinion of werewolves now. It's even worse than it was before."

James and Sirius exchanged a concerned glance, both thinking of their friend Remus. Harry had told them that arrangements had been made for students who had been forced to leave Hogwarts so that they could continue their studies, but they had hoped that Remus could come back to Hogwarts once this saga cooled down. However, they were not so sure about it anymore.

"It's all such a mess," Marlene said softly, feeling Sirius glance at her out of the corner of his eye. "I mean… I understand why they did it, I do. But using Unforgivables... it feels like the protectors lost something important. Like they compromised a part of themselves. It's about principle, you get what I mean?"

Alice nodded vehemently. "You're right. The aurors are supposed to fight without resorting to the tactics of those terrorists. There are many spells to kill that don't call for those vile emotions. How does that make the aurors and our Ministry by extension any better than the same vile wizards they claim to protect us from?"

"That's not fair, Alice," Frank interjected, his tone measured but firm. "The Aurors were protecting innocent people. It's not the same as using Dark magic for personal gain or out of cruelty."

"Isn't it?" She challenged, her eyes flashing. "Once you start justifying it, where does it end? Today it's to stop Greyback, tomorrow it's to question suspects, and before you know it, we're no better than the people we're fighting against."

James held up a hand, trying to calm the rising tensions. "Look, we're all upset, and rightly so. But arguing with each other isn't going to help. We need to think about what happens next, and how we can learn from this situation."

Alice grimaced slightly but nodded, reaching out to clasp her boyfriend's hand apologetically. "You're right. I'm sorry, Frank."

Frank shook his head and pulled her close.

Harry smiled at his friend, although it did not reach his eyes. His expression betrayed nothing of the turmoil within.

He had orchestrated this conflict from the shadows, manipulating events to ensure this confrontation would occur. It was a necessary evil, he told himself, to prevent a far darker future. But hearing the pain and confusion in the voices of his friends, coupled with the news that had kept trickling in of innocents suffering in the attacks, Harry was yet again forced to question the path he had chosen.

The cost weighed heavily on his conscience. He had been affirming it to himself, how it had been a necessary evil and how he could not keep dwelling on whether it was the right choice, but he could not help it. The use of Unforgivable Curses had crossed a moral line, blurring the distinction between those who upheld the law and those who broke it.

Lounging in his chair, Harry shifted his gaze to the fireplace, watching the embers pop as the small log burned and fell in. He felt the concerned glances of his friends directed at him and heard Sirius and Marlene shifting beside him, the girl undoubtedly trying to pull Sirius away for a private talk that she had been asking for a while now. A small frown spread across his face and he couldn't help but wonder: in changing the future, had he inadvertently set the stage for a different, equally dark path?

The aftermath of this entire saga was just beginning to unfold. The anti-werewolf legislation was already a law, and public sentiment was against the werewolves. St. Mungo's was overwhelmed with people either seeking treatment for lycanthropy, or those grievously injured in the attacks that had been taking place. He heard the voices of his girlfriends, telling him how even worse would have happened if the werewolves had joined Voldemort's cause, and although it did assuage him slightly, it was in no way enough. The guilt kept gnawing at him like a relentless termite being given an infected log.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he felt a weird silence envelop the group. Brows furrowed, he shifted his gaze from the fire to his friends, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw the cause.

It was Lily. She stood near the couch, her face set in a mask of perfect neutrality as she kept her gaze on James who stared at her in surprise. Slowly, his face mirrored hers as he kept a calm outlook, though the slight bobbing of his throat indicated otherwise.

Lily's voice was clipped as she said, "You were right about Snape. I should have believed you."

Everyone watched on, dead silent, as James slowly leaned back, straightening in his seat as he regarded the redhead. His expression did not change, although his eyes hardened imperceptibly. "What changed?" He asked in as level a tone as he could muster.

Lily's gaze briefly flickered over to Marlene who sat on the armrest of Sirius' chair and Alice who was nestled comfortably beside Frank. Both the girls gave her encouraging nods, conveying their silent support.

However, Lily seemed to falter as she said softly, "I'd rather not."

"Oh come off it, Lily," Marlene groaned in exasperation. "It's happened. It's done. You can't let it affect you so much anymore."

"What are you talking about?" Sirius asked firmly, and Marlene glanced at him, sighing.

"Snape fucked up and showed his true colors," she said sharply. "Did exactly what I'd been saying. Defended this wretched werewolf law, saying how they're dangerous beasts who should be put down and what not! And if that was not enough, the bastard called Lily a…"

She trailed off, and Harry's eyes hardened, narrowing in suspicion.

"What did he call her?" He asked, his voice almost a growl.

Marlene's eyes widened at the tone but she remained resolute and firm, even though she could feel Lily's hand on the back of her dress, as if telling her it was enough. However, Marlene was not done. Casting her gaze around, she sneered, "The filthy bastard called her that bloody M-word."

Harry's eyes flashed in rage, his gaze shifting to Lily who let out a defeated sigh and pulled her hand away from Marlene. Meanwhile, everyone seated around stared at the blonde in shock. Their faces hardened, jaws clenching.

Marlene continued, her voice low but clear. "And that's not all. He pulled his wand on Lily in the library. Would've cursed her if I didn't blindside him first."

James remained outwardly calm, although inwardly, his rage boiled. His mind raced with violent thoughts as he imagined confronting Snape, putting him under all the curses he had learned in the past few months since starting his magical practice with Harry. He yearned to make the bastard pay for everything he'd said and done. Yet, his face betrayed nothing, and he remained impassive. The only indication of his rage was the tightening of his eyes and the way his jaw was clenched hard.

Sirius could not contain a low growl that rumbled from his throat, and he was promptly silenced by a sharp look from James. Meanwhile, Harry gazed outside the open window, his face a carefully controlled mask and his eyes burning with intensity and rage that mirrored James' hidden fury.

Lily's shoulders hunched slightly as she released a small sigh. "It doesn't matter now," she said flatly. "I was wrong. You were right. I apologized to Marlene, and it makes sense I do the same with you as well. I'm… sorry for not believing you."

Her apology hung in the air, and it seemed as if James almost ignored it. Finally, he nodded curtly, and with a deceptively calm voice, he ground out, "When?"

"Yesterday," Marlene supplied, ignoring Lily's sigh once again.

James remained seated, even though every muscle in his body screamed for him to move, to act. When he spoke, his voice was low and even, betraying none of the fury that raged within. "If he comes near you again-"

"He won't," Lily interrupted firmly.

The air was thick with tension, unresolved emotions shining through in both their gazes. This was the first time they had exchanged a word since James' confession, and everyone in attendance felt that a deep, meaningful conversation was necessary for the pair.

James nodded again. "Good," he said simply.

Lily nodded curtly and turned away, her composed mask threatening to break before she caught herself once again. Squaring her shoulders, she took a deep breath and walked away, leaving behind a deathly quiet group of students who stared at each other in stunned silence.

James' eyes met Harry's, and a silent understanding passed between them. Both knew what the other was thinking – they would ensure Snape would never threaten or even try to come close to Lily again.

Around them, their friends watched the silent exchange and they all knew what was coming, and as they thought about it, they could not deny that it would be sorely deserved.

-Break-

The abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Knockturn Alley loomed like a decaying giant against the ink-black sky. A sliver of moon peeked through tattered clouds, casting an eerie glow on the crumbling brickwork. The very air seemed oppressive, hanging heavily with the acrid scent of dark magic.

Inside the warehouse, the cavernous space buzzed with tension. Dust motes danced in shafts of sickly lamplights that did little to dispel the deep shadows that clung to every corner. The assembled crowd stood divided, two factions eyeing each other with a mixture of suspicion and hatred.

On one side, the remnants of the Silver Fang stood in rigid formation. Their polished silver masks glinted ominously in the dim light, reflecting distorted images of their adversaries. Beneath the masks, their jaws clenched in disgust and fear. Their hands gripped their wands so tightly that their knuckles turned white, and they stood ready to unleash spells at a moment's notice. These were purebloods and sympathizers, dedicated to eradicating the werewolf threat by any means necessary.

Opposite them, the Lunar Liberation Front seethed with barely contained rage. These were the radicals who championed werewolf rights, many of them family members of those turned or killed in the recent conflicts. Their eyes blazed with righteous anger, and scars from battles both magical and mundane marked many of their faces. They wore no uniforms, but each bore a silver crescent moon pinned to their robes – a mockery of their enemies' imagery.

Both groups had received anonymous messages, each promising a solution to their shared conflict. The parchments had appeared in a flash of green flame, the ink seeming to writhe on the page as if alive. Neither side knew the other would be present, and the air crackled with the potential for explosive violence. Both sides were wondering why the other was here, and the suspicion that this was an ambush had long taken root in their hearts. However, shockingly, they found they could not muster the courage to cast a spell, their arms shaking the moment they raised their wands to unleash carnage.

There was an odd sort of terror permeating the air, a feeling that they would lose their heads the moment they stepped out of line. The fear was palpable in their demeanor, their eyes darting about even as they glared at the other faction, searching relentlessly for the source of this distress.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the warehouse as a cloaked figure materialized in the center of the room from the inky darkness of their surroundings. It seemed as if the shadows around the room themselves had coalesced into human form. It was a humanoid figure, adorning long, black robes that seemed to flow around him as if extensions of the shadows themselves. The figure was covered in black from head to foot, his face hidden beneath the veil that seemed to suck the very light that threatened to expose him.

Lord Voldemort's pale, yet handsome visage remained hidden, yet his crimson orbs gleamed in the half-light as he surveyed the gathered extremists. Those deathly eyes seemed to glow with an inner fire, boring into each person present as if peering directly into their souls.

For a long moment, there was nothing but a deathly silence, and when he spoke, his voice was soft, and yet, it carried to every ear with crystal clarity, as silky and as dangerous as a venomous serpent's kiss of death.

"I wonder," he began, the corners of his mouth curling into a thin smile, "what you all see in each other. The Silver Fang, noble defenders of purity, yet driven to such brutality. And the Lunar Liberation Front, sympathizers of the highest order who proclaim yourselves to be the paragon of virtue, yet hoping to tear down what they can never be."

He paused for a moment, his red eyes glowing in the dim light. His audience remained silent, although he could see the defiance in the eyes of many. All it did was amuse him.

"You know what I believe?" he continued, spreading his long-fingered hands wide in a gesture of welcome. "You stand divided, yet you share a common purpose. Both sides seek to reshape our world, to carve out your place in it through strength and will."

Murmurs rippled through both factions like wind through dry leaves. There was no lack of people who leaned forward, drawn in by the Dark Lord's ever-present charisma, while there were those who shrank back, unnerved by the sheer unnaturalness that seemed to ooze off him.

Voldemort allowed a cruel smile to play across his lips before continuing, savoring the palpable fear and curiosity that permeated the air.

"And now," Voldemort continued, his voice smooth and laced with venom, "you find yourselves in a predicament. Weeks of bloodshed, lives lost… and yet nothing gained." His tone turned mocking. "The great Fenrir Greyback, torn apart like the beast he was. The Ministry grows bold again, the purebloods rebuild their estates, while your people are hunted. Do you not see? You are losing."

There were smirks from the Silver Fang directed at their adversaries who growled low in their throats, glaring.

"And you," Voldemort continued, glancing at the smug group of witches and wizards. "You believe you've won already. Arrogance of the highest order… Greyback is dead indeed, but do you truly believe the remaining werewolves would give up so easily? You will perish a hundred times over before you could ever hope to eradicate their entire race."

Eyeing both the groups, Voldemort smirked. "I see fools before me… Manipulated by the Ministry with ease… your focus shifted to what does not even matter! Both of you believe the predicament of the werewolves is the concern, easily overlooking the bigger picture."

A man from the Silver Fang stepped forward, his voice steady but laced with arrogance. "What the hell are you talking about? We all know what's important here! The threat"

"Silence."

The word was a whip crack, and the man's breath caught in his throat. He staggered back, clutching his neck as though an invisible hand were choking the air from his lungs. Voldemort straightened, his long, black robes sweeping the ground as he glided forward. The cold fury in his eyes sent a chill through the room.

"The Ministry," he spat the word as if it tasted foul, "would have you fight each other, wasting your strength on petty squabbles while they consolidate their power. Inventing new grievances to keep you occupied while they enjoy the money you give them, the power you inadvertently devote to them, the pathetic laws they have you uphold… You believe they deserve so much consideration? Why, I ask?"

There was absolute silence as both factions stared at the choking wizard with wide eyes.

"There is only power, but it comes in more than one form," Voldemort continued. "There is power truly wielded by individuals who are the chosen," he whispered, waving a hand over the choking man who gasped and breathed heavily, feeling as if he'd just returned from touching the outstretched palm of Death herself. "And there is power people put in others because they do not know better. There is only one kind of power that matters, and I believe you know by know which one I am talking about."

The man gazed fearfully at Voldemort as he staggered back, stumbling as he lost his footing. A few of his aides righted him as he almost fell, gazing at the Dark Lord who kept staring at them in amusement.

"You all are being taken advantage of, and you don't even see it. What have you all gained from this quarrel, I ask. Power? Wealth? Prestige? Even a word of praise? Your potentials are being taken for granted, and you have no idea."

He turned to the Silver Fang members, his robes swirling around him like living shadows. "You, who would protect our world from the beast that lurks in the shadows. Your dedication is admirable, but short-sighted." Several of the masked figures straightened, pride warring with unease in their postures.

Voldemort's gaze swept to the Lunar Liberation Front, his red eyes locking with the uncertain stares that met his gaze. "And you, who fight for those society has cast aside, who refuse to let injustice stand unchallenged. Your passion is a weapon, but one without proper direction." A few of the members clenched their fists, while others glanced around uneasily.

As Voldemort began to pace, his movements fluid and mesmerizing, a commotion erupted from the Silver Fang ranks. The crowd parted like water as a tall wizard in gleaming silver robes pushed his way to the front. His polished mask reflected the wand light, giving the impression of a face wreathed in flames.

"This is madness!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the warehouse walls. With a dramatic flourish, he ripped off his mask to reveal a face contorted with rage. Aristocratic features twisted into a sneer as he glared at Voldemort. "Octavius Selwyn, at your service," he announced with mocking courtesy. "And we'll never align ourselves with these blood traitors or a Dark Lord! Have you all forgotten what the werewolves have done? The children they've murdered, the families they've torn apart?"

Before Voldemort could respond, an angry shout came from the Lunar Liberation Front. A woman with a jagged scar running from her left eye to her jaw pushed forward, her wand raised threateningly. "How dare you, Selwyn!" she spat, her voice trembling with fury. "It's bigots like you who created this conflict! How many innocent lives have you ruined with your 'noble' crusade?" Her eyes flicked to Voldemort, narrowing dangerously. "And we'll never bow to the likes of you, asshole! We fight for justice, not power!"

The warehouse erupted into chaos. Silver Fang members raised their wands, silver light glinting off the tips. The Lunar Liberation Front responded in kind, a cacophony of angry shouts and half-cast spells filling the air. It seemed that violence was mere seconds away from exploding.

Voldemort's eyes flashed dangerously, but his lips curved into a terrible smile. The air around him seemed to darken, the temperature dropping several degrees in an instant. "Ah," he said softly, his voice somehow cutting through the din like a knife, "I was hoping for some more... volunteers."

With a speed that belied his serpentine appearance, Voldemort's wand flashed. Octavius Selwyn froze mid-tirade, his eyes widening in terror as his silver robes began to ripple and flow. The polished metal liquefied, running like quicksilver over his skin. His screams echoed through the warehouse as he collapsed, the molten silver searing into his flesh, branding intricate patterns of agony across his body.

In the same fluid motion, Voldemort turned to the woman from the Lunar Liberation Front. "Crucio," he hissed almost lazily as if swatting an irritating fly. She dropped to the ground, her defiant expression transforming into one of pure agony. Her body contorted unnaturally, bones creaking as they were bent to impossible angles by the force of the Unforgivable Curse.

The warehouse fell deathly silent save for the harrowing cries and sizzling flesh of the two victims. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burning skin and the copper tang of blood. Voldemort surveyed the room, his red eyes gleaming with malevolent satisfaction as they swept over the horrified faces of both factions.

"Now then," he continued as if there had been no interruption, his voice as smooth and cold as ice, "as I was saying. Imagine what you could accomplish if you put aside your differences and embraced a greater purpose." He began to pace again, stepping over the twitching forms of Selwyn and the woman as if they were nothing more than discarded rubbish.

"The Ministry hates you both – and rightly so. Your actions have been lackluster, resembling those of mere thugs instead of people with a sense of purpose. They should tremble at the thought of purebloods who would take matters into their own hands, who would protect their heritage at any cost." Several of the Silver Fang members nodded grudgingly, their eyes darting between Voldemort and their fallen comrade.

"And you," he turned to the Lunar Liberation Front, many of whom were still breathing heavily from the near-battle, "you should strike terror into their hearts with your relentless pursuit of change, your refusal to be bound by their petty laws and prejudices." A few of the members straightened, pride warring with lingering suspicion in their eyes.

"And if you cannot gain a purpose on your own, both of you, I invite you to be united under my banner," Voldemort's voice rose, filling the warehouse with dark promise, "Put your petty differences aside, reach out for what you want, and together, we could reshape the very foundations of magical society."

With a grand sweep of his wand, he conjured vivid illusions that danced in the air before them. The images shimmered and shifted, showing scenes of a world transformed:

Werewolves and humans coexisted peacefully, the former no longer hunted or feared, but integrated into society under strict control. In another scene, pureblood families sat safely in their manors, their ancestral homes protected by wards that pulsed with dark power. Children played in gardens free from the fear of attack, their laughter a stark contrast to the battles that had raged mere weeks before.

The illusions shifted again, showing the Ministry of Magic in ruins, its oppressive laws and corrupt officials swept away. In its place rose a new order, where strength and magical ability were valued above all else. Former enemies stood side by side, united in their dominion over those they deemed inferior.

"Join me," Voldemort hissed, his charisma palpable even in the wake of his cruelty, "and I will give you the world you dream of. A world where you are no longer outcasts or vigilantes, but the rightful rulers of all magical kind."

His wand twitched towards the still-twitching forms on the ground, and the beautiful illusions twisted into nightmarish scenes of carnage and despair. Werewolves rampaged unchecked through streets littered with bodies. Pureblood manors burned, and ancient family lines were extinguished in flames of retribution. The Ministry's forces marched relentlessly, crushing all who stood in their path.

"Resist..." Voldemort let the word hang in the air, dripping with threat and malice, "and face a fate far worse than you can imagine."

A tense silence fell, broken only by the labored breathing of the two punished dissenters. Eyes darted back and forth, weighing options, measuring the risk of defiance against the promise of power.

Moments later, a ragged voice called out from the back of the Lunar Liberation Front. A young wizard, scarcely out of Hogwarts, fell to his knees before Voldemort. "My Lord," he gasped, "command us!"

Like a dam breaking, others followed. Members of both factions knelt, some reluctantly, others with fevered enthusiasm in their eyes. The Silver Fang hesitated longer, their ingrained beliefs warring with their fear and ambition. But as the moments ticked by and Voldemort's patience visibly waned, they too began to sink to their knees, their greed for the new world order and their thirst for riches and recognition overpowering whatever principles they held dear.

Voldemort's laughter, cold and triumphant, echoed through the warehouse. With a gesture, the Dark Mark blazed to life above them all, bathing the scene in sickly green light. The spectral skull and serpent seemed to leer down at the assembled crowd, a promise and a threat intertwined.

"You have chosen wisely," Voldemort purred, his red eyes gleaming with malevolent satisfaction. He turned to the two writhing figures on the ground, Selwyn's silver-burned body still smoking, the woman's limbs twitching from the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse.

"As for our... dissenters. Let them serve as a reminder of the fate that awaits those who defy Lord Voldemort."

With two swift slashes of his wand, a blinding green light filled the warehouse. When it faded, Selwyn and the woman lay still, their eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, the last vestiges of defiance frozen on their faces for eternity.

"Now," Voldemort said, turning back to his newly acquired followers, his voice filled with dark promise, "let us begin. The world awaits its new masters."

As he raised his wand, the air itself seemed to tremble. Magic crackled visibly, arcing between the assembled witches and wizards like living lightning. The warehouse groaned as if the very foundations of reality were shifting as they stood witness to the carnage that had unfolded mere moments ago.

The stage was set, and a new chapter in the wizarding world's darkest hour was about to unfold. Voldemort stood at its center, the puppet master pulling the strings of his new followers' fears, ambitions, and hatred. As his red eyes surveyed his new army, a cold smile played across his lips. His plans, though briefly hindered, were back on track. Both sides now knelt before him, and soon, so would the entire wizarding world.

The Dark Lord smiled, for victory was no longer a matter of if—but when.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

The torchlight flickered ominously along the ancient stone walls of Hogwarts as curfew approached. The pathway to the dungeons, strewn with shadowy alcoves, was enveloped in an eerie silence, with only the sound of footsteps echoing around.

Severus Snape, clad in his Hogwarts uniform and his black robes billowing behind him, strode purposefully towards the Slytherin Common Room. His mind churned with a tempest of emotions – anger, discontent, and even the bitter sense of betrayal. The memory of what happened in the library with Lily played on repeat in his mind, that hateful word ringing in his ears.

Mudblood.

He had not intended to say it, not to Lily. Never to Lily. At least that was what he had believed. However, in that emotionally charged moment when he was awash with rage and betrayal, it had slipped out, and the consequences were as he had expected.

As he recalled the look of sheer shock and hurt in her eyes when he pulled his wand on her, he felt uncomfortable, but it was quickly overshadowed by his own sense of indignation. How could she betray him like that!? She knew what it was like at his home, and yet she had disregarded it so easily!? After all these years of friendship?

The more he thought about it, the more his rage mounted, and the more he kept justifying to himself that he had indeed done the right thing when he told her as he saw it. She did not understand what was right or wrong, instead choosing to assert her moral superiority over delicate matters that she had no idea about – exactly like a Mudblood would do.

The fallout of the altercation the previous day had been severe, although still manageable. He had been docked a hundred points and assigned detentions with Filch who extracted immense pleasure in making students scrub dirt and grime with their bare hands. The pathetic squib sure loved to take out his vindictiveness on his betters, and it made Snape seethe.

A sneer emerged on his face as he walked down the stairs. His thoughts were still in turmoil as he rounded the corner when a voice cut through the stillness like a knife.

"Looking as pathetic as always, Snivellus."

Snape froze, his hand instinctively moving to his wand. His head snapped up and as he focused, he could make out the familiar form of James Potter standing in a shadowy alcove, his dark robes mingling easily with the pitch-blackness the surroundings offered him.

Hidden behind those round glasses were his hazel eyes blazing with barely contained fury. Snape was slightly surprised to see the noticeable lack of company. There was no Sirius Black with him who usually sported his pathetic smirk that never truly reached his eyes, and there was no Harry Peverell either – the new ringleader of Potter's ragtag group of bullies and assholes. Snape sneered as he thought about the pair.

"Potter," he spat, his hand already gripping his wand. "Come to gloat, have you? I'm surprised you waited this long."

James stepped off the wall and walked to the middle of the corridor, facing Snape. His lips curled in disgust as he stared him down. "Gloat? That's what you think this is about, Snivellus?"

"What else could it be?" Snape sneered. "Here to defend precious Lily's honor? With the way you keep wagging your tail behind her like a pathetic dog, it's obvious what you're here for."

"You don't deserve to even say her name!" James hissed.

Snape laughed bitterly, the sound echoing off the stone walls. "Did she send you here to fight her battles? Or are you just hoping she'll finally give you the time of the day if you play the gallant hero?"

James ignored the pathetic attempt to rile him up even more. Glaring, he hissed, "How dare you call her that word? After everything she's done for you?"

Snape's face contorted into rage. "You know nothing about Lily and me, Potter! Nothing!"

"I know enough," James retorted. "I know how she's defended you over the years, even arguing for you with her closest friends. I know she saw good in you, or at least chose to remain blind to the pathetic cretin that everyone knows you are. And what did you do? You chose to throw it all away with one word."

"You have no clue what you're talking about," Snape growled low in his throat, earning another disgusted glare from James. He did not miss how the Slytherin's hand twitched on his wand and palmed his at once, ready to jump into action at a moment's notice.

"Oh, I know perfectly well. I've known what a cunt you are for a long time now, Snivellus. You are a pathetic thug with disgusting prejudices. You have finally shown her your true colors as well. Congrats. How does it feel to realize that Lily finally sees you for what you really are?

"Prejudice, huh?" Snape's voice rose, indignation flaring in his dark eyes. "You know nothing about me or my life! You"

"What I know is that you have chosen your path, Snape. And deep down, even you know that's not the path Lily would ever choose," James hissed.

For a moment, Snape stayed silent, glaring and breathing heavily. His grip was right on his wand and every cell in his body was urging him to curse this asshole in front of him who had come to gloat. His hatred bubbled under the surface and Snape hissed, "You think you've won, don't you, Potter? You must think this means Lily will now fall in your arms and you'll get what you've always wanted?"

James' jaw clenched, and an utterly disappointed look came over his face. "That's what you're fixated on right now? Merlin, you're even more pathetic than I thought. She just lost her best friend. I've seen how hurt she is. The last thing I'll want would be to take advantage of her emotions like that. I've much more morality than that."

Snape's face twisted with rage. He did not like the look Potter was giving him, not one bit, and he snarled, "You sanctimonious prick! You strut around this castle like you own it, bullying anyone who doesn't fit your perfect Gryffindor mold. And you dare to lecture me about what's right? You dare to preach about morals?"

"At least I don't hide behind blood supremacy and bigotry," James shot back. "At least I don't consider others beneath me. At least I don't betray my friends."

"Friends?" Snape laughed coldly, a hollow, bitter sound. "Is that what you call them? Your little gang of thugs and abominations? That pathetic werewolf's days are done already. Good riddance."

James' eyes blazed and his grip tightened further on his wand. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the rage building inside him. "Listen carefully, because I'm only going to say this once. Stay far away from Lily. If you so much as look at her wrong, you'll regret it."

Snape's eyes flashed dangerously. "Is that a threat, Potter?"

"It's a promise."

The tension in the corridor was palpable as both wizards stood glaring at each other. As one, their wands snapped up, pointed forward.

Snape's lips curled, his wand flicking sharply as he hissed, "Incarcerous!"

Thick ropes erupted from the tip of Snape's wand, speeding toward James, intent on whipping and binding him.

James moved just as quickly, his movements fluid and sure as he flicked his wand almost lazily. Instead of merely dodging, he transfigured the ropes mid-flight, turning them into thin strings of smoke that dissipated harmlessly in the air. Snape's eyes widened slightly at the silent casting on display.

"Ropes? Really, Snivellus? I was hoping for something a little more impressive," James mocked, his voice carrying an infuriating nonchalance as he maintained perfect focus on his opponent.

Snape's face contorted in frustrated rage. Without wasting another second, he snarled, "Expulso!" A tightly controlled blast shot from his wand, aimed right at James's side.

James deftly sidestepped the jet of force, years of Quidditch practices and his recent workouts aiding his movements. The spell missed him, striking the wall with a low thud and leaving a faint scorch mark. His eyes flashed as he flicked his wrist again, silently causing the floor beneath Snape to ripple, its texture subtly shifting.

Snape didn't notice until his footing wavered, the ground beneath his boots shaking as the bricks and stones started to shift. His concentration broke for a split second, but in that moment, James took full advantage.

A leg-locker zipped through the air, catching Snape unprepared. His legs snapped together, sending him off balance. Snape's wand shot out desperately, barely managing to cast a non-verbal counter-curse to free his legs.

"You can't win this, Snivellus," James sneered, but there was a steely edge to his voice now as if his patience was wearing thin.

Snape's eyes blazed with hatred. He had had enough. His grip on his wand tightened, and with a furious motion, he slashed his wand through the air.

"Sectumsempra!"

The curse tore through the air, a razor-sharp incantation aimed straight at James's chest. However, just like before, James's instincts were lightning-fast. He twisted his body out of the way just in time, feeling the cold rush of the crimson spell as it sliced through the air where he had been standing. The curse struck the stone wall behind him, leaving jagged, deep gashes etched into the rock. James's shocked eyes flickered to the scars on the wall, taking in the level of destruction that spell had wrought upon concrete. Had it hit him, he would've probably been sliced through.

His eyes hardened as he realized just how dark Snape's intentions had become. "Sectumsempra? That was the incantation, right? I've never heard that one before. You must've read a lot if you came across a spell like that," James's voice was quieter now, dangerously calm, and Snape sneered.

"A creation of mine, for assholes just like you, Potter," Snape snarled, having nullified the shaking of the floor under his feet.

"You really are pathetic," James said almost dispassionately as he gazed at the irate and panting wizard in front of him. Before Snape could cast another spell, James' wand snapped again, the movement fast and deliberate.

Instead of attacking head-on, James manipulated the stone floor beneath Snape once again. The ground softened just under his feet, subtly pulling at Snape's legs and preventing him from moving freely, like a quicksand trap with a hint of magical restraint.

Snape struggled, realizing too late that his legs were caught in the slowly hardening stone. He slashed his wand, but the spell barely fizzled out before James advanced, closing the gap between them.

With a smooth flick of his wand, James disarmed Snape, catching the other wizard's wand deftly in his left hand. Snape's eyes widened, the shock and fury battling for dominance on his face.

James didn't let the moment stretch. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper.

"I'm warning you. Stay away from Lily."

With a cold look of disgust, James tossed Snape's wand to the floor at his feet. He glanced over at the gashes on the wall once again, his heart racing slightly as he realized he could've been seriously injured. His lips pursed, and turning on his heel, he strode away without another word.

Snape remained where he was, breathing heavily, his legs still half-trapped in the stone where his wand lay. Grunting, he squatted and somehow managed to grab hold of his wand and quickly reversed the transfiguration, stepping out and fixing the floor. His eyes darted in either direction before he smoothed his robes down and strode away toward the Slytherin Common Room.

In another shadowy alcove on the first floor, a certain redhead stood frozen as she leaned against the window ledge, her heart pounding in her chest. Her mind raced with a whirl of emotions as she deliberated on the entire encounter that she had witnessed.

Snape had tried, genuinely tried, to fatally harm James. She would've never thought him capable of using such a curse against another, and it terrified her to realize how wrong she had been about him. She had come to know the pathetic views he held about those considered lesser in pureblood circles, but now, she also knew he was capable of violence as well, and for what? Because his pride got a little hurt? Would he have used that spell on her yesterday if Marlene had not intervened? She truly could not deny the possibility.

She would have understood if he had used such a spell where it was warranted, but James never even tried to hurt him. He had only been trying to keep him at bay. To fatally attack someone in such a situation stood a testament to how far he had fallen.

She realized she should have expected Snape to have this side to him. She had overlooked a lot when it came to her former friend, perhaps even the darkness that lurked beneath the surface.

However, it was James who had shocked her the most. He had defended her, warning Snape to stay away from her, and although a part of her wanted to be indignant at his presumption that he could speak for her, she could not help but feel grateful for his actions as well. Conflicted feelings rose within her as the two sides argued with her, the former still holding strong opinions on James Potter while the newer voice recognized there was more to him than what she'd been believing for all these years.

Her mind drifted to the magical duel if one could even call it that. He had been quick on his feet and magically much more capable than she had thought he would be. The restraint he had shown in the face of Snape's viciousness throughout the altercation, verbal and otherwise, was unlike the boy she had always dismissed as arrogant and reckless.

Try as she might, she could not help but recall James's confession in their common room. He had told her that he loved her. She still remembered the hurt in his eyes when he'd said he wondered how he ever fell for her, shocked by her continued defense of Snape. They hadn't spoken since then until earlier today, and now... he had defended her, purely out of the care she knew he had for her. He knew that only Snape would ever know he was doing it. There was no desire for praise or recognition in what he had done today, and that spoke volumes of his maturity that she did not know he possessed.

Or perhaps it had always been there and she had obstinately refused to see it?

As Lily closed her eyes and leaned back against the pillar she had been hiding behind near the shadowy alcove, she found herself questioning everything. The boy she had always dismissed as an arrogant toerag had shown depths she never expected, and the friend she had defended for years had revealed his true colors – a darkness that could no longer be ignored. What did it truly say about her emotional intelligence? She felt as if she could not perceive people beyond surface appearances, understand their motivations, or make insightful judgments.

Taking a deep breath, Lily began walking toward the staircase. Curfew was imminent, and her mind was embroiled in turmoil. She could feel a headache developing, and as she gently massaged her temple, she couldn't shake the feeling that the ground beneath her feet had shifted forever.

-Break-

The grand hall of Malfoy Manor was thick with tension. Once a symbol of pureblood wealth and power, the hall now felt more like a tomb, its opulence overshadowed by the misfortune that had befallen the family. The faces of the men standing looked as if they were ghosts in a haunting painting as flickering torches cast restless shadows across the hall.

Abraxas Malfoy stood at the head of the gathering, his silver hair gleaming in the dim light. Once a prideful man with an air of aristocratic disdain around him, he looked like a shadow of his former self. The death of his heir had struck him hard, and the political troubles that came with it added to his struggles.

His usual demeanor had been one of conflict and helplessness lately, but now, it seemed to have been replaced by something darker – a rage simmering just beneath the surface. The recent loss of his son, Lucius, had left him feeling raw, and the presence of these… wretches… in his ancestral house was an insult he found himself struggling to endure.

To his right, Nott shifted uneasily, his rheumy eyes flicking between their associates and the newcomers. Beside him stood Avery, the only hothead left in their midst after Corvus' death, who had his knuckles clenched over his wand so tightly they had gone white. The memory of their former associate made Abraxas' jaw tighten. It had been quick, brutal, and gory. They had all been forced to sit and watch as the Dark Lord's serpent devoured the corpse within minutes.

Abraxas did not know where his lord had procured that serpent from, but from one glance, he could tell that it was no ordinary creature. There was something off about it.

His thoughts were cut off when he heard the approaching footsteps and he took a deep breath, casting his gaze straight ahead at the door that opened with a creak.

No one could miss the thick air of barely concealed hostility permeating the two groups that entered the hall. They were a ragtag group – some bore fresh battle scars, while others had a nervous energy about them, and it was quite apparent that they were not used to gatherings of this nature.

Their very presence seemed to offend the sensibilities of the pureblood elite that comprised of Abraxas and his remaining allies.

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "So," he drawled, and the contempt dripping from his voice was hard to miss. "These are the… additions our lord has seen fit to bring into the fold." His cold gaze swept over the newcomers, his lips curling into a sneer as he took in their ragged robes and battle-worn faces. Clearly, even the gleaming silver robes that the members of Silver Fang wore did not pass the scrutiny of his prejudicial lens.

"Street trash and half-breeds, the lot of them," Nott muttered just loud enough to be heard. "What could our lord be thinking?"

A burly wizard, adorning the silver robes that were tattered in places, stepped forward, his face flushing with barely contained fury.

"Watch your tongue, you snobby bastard," he growled, his hand twitching toward his wand. "While you've been hiding in your gilded cages, we are the ones who've been fighting the battles you started on the streets. Our blood and sweat has done more for the cause than your gold and power ever could. Pathetic swines. You dare call us trash when you lost your heirs and still had no balls to pick up your wands and do something about it. It's clear who the trash truly is."

"You dare!" Avery snarled. "You know nothing of our cause, you filthy mongrel! You have no fucking clue what we've done! A few street brawls with those fucking mutts and their cocksuckers and you think you're our equals!?"

A witch stepped forward, garbed in robes that were even more tattered. Her hair was wild and there were injuries on her face. Yet, it did not deter her. Her eyes blazed, her voice sharp as she grinned ferally. "Equals? We surpassed you the moment we took up the fight while you cowered behind your fancy wards and family names. You bastards disgust me! Hell, we can even respect these Fangs. At least they had the balls to fight for what they believe in. What did you do?"

"The future belongs to those willing to fight, not cowards clinging to their family names!"

"Louder!"

MacNair, who had been standing at the far end and watching the altercation, gritted his teeth in rage alongside the rest. He darted forward, his large frame seeming to fill the space between the two groups as he snarled, "Big words from such small dogs. Why don't you bastards put your words where your mouth is?

The air crackled with tension as wizards and witches from all sides brandished their wands, their eyes full of rage and hatred for one another. Tensions were about to explode.

Abraxas, who had been standing in the middle, with his face set in stone but his eyes blazing, took a deep breath to calm himself, forcing his rage down. He raised his hand sharply, his voice slicing through the growing chaos. "Enough! We are not common thugs. Whatever… feelings we might have about the situation, our Lord's orders are clear. We will not disgrace ourselves with petty squabbles."

His words did little to ease the tension in the room. Both his associates and the newcomers bristled, their prejudices, superiority complexes, and deeply ingrained ideologies creating a divide that was not easy to cross. Even among the newcomers, he could see people eyeing those from the opposite faction, ready to curse one another at a moment's notice.

Avery could not resist a sneer as he glared at the large group. "Yes, let's play nice with the riffraff. I'm sure they will fit perfectly well with us. Perhaps we wouldn't need to teach them how to tell a fork and a spoon apart, or how to hold a glass," he hissed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Better a man who knows how to fight for the cause he believes in than a peacock who knows only how to strut around. When was the last time you got blood on your hands, prick? And I don't mean a papercut while reading an agreement."

"No wonder your spawn bit the dust if they came from the loins of cowards like you!" A voice shouted, prompting both factions to let out cries of approval.

The words had the expected effect. All the Inner Circle members' faces turned a dangerous shade of purple as they raised their wands.

"You motherfucking sons of whores!" Avery snarled. "I'll show you"

Suddenly, a loud crack of apparition echoed around them, cutting him off and silencing the dimly lit hall. A deathly chill swept through the air as Lord Voldemort materialized before them, his tall and pale form seeming to absorb the very light around him. His thin, elongated fingers twitched at his sides, and his crimson eyes glowed like embers in the dark. His presence was suffocating, as if the room itself bowed in submission.

There was a collective intake of breath as the Death Eaters sank to their knees, their heads bowed low and their faces a mixture of subservience and terror. However, the newcomers stood awkwardly, exchanging uncertain glances with their allies and former enemies, unsure of how they were supposed to conduct themselves. Slowly, one by one, they too began to fall to their knees, their heads bowing low and they kept their eyes trained on the dark floor.

Voldemort's mouth curled into a cruel smile as he surveyed the gathering, his hand shaking subtly as he stroked Nagini whose forked tongue slithered out in anticipation.

"My loyal servants," Voldemort began, his voice barely above a whisper. Yet, it carried throughout the hall, authoritative and striking fear into the hearts of all those in attendance. "I see you have met our new… allies."

The word "allies" was said with a hint of mockery. His red eyes shifted toward the newcomers – men and women who could not have looked more different from his Inner Circle members if they tried. As if feeling his gaze on them, they shifted uneasily.

The Death Eaters bowed even lower, as if reminded of what he had done to Corvus Lestrange when he had dared to disrespect him. None dared to raise their heads.

Voldemort, seemingly uninterested in their subservience, glided forward like a wraith, ignoring the old guard entirely. His attention was fixed on the newcomers, several of whom were sneaking glances up at him. All it did was add to his amusement.

He reached the burly wizard who stood at the front alongside the woman in tattered robes and rested his hand almost affectionately on his broad shoulder. The man, Aldric, was as hardened as any, having been abandoned long ago by those who should've raised him. The reason – they had been transformed into werewolves, and they had abandoned him so that they did not inadvertently curse him as well. It had made him as ruthless as he possibly could be in his mission to hunt down werewolves. Even a man as hardened as he flinched at the Dark Lord's touch.

"What is your name?" Voldemort spoke softly, almost a gentle caress, and yet, Aldric shivered.

He cleared his throat and keeping his eyes firmly at the floor, spoke, "Aldric, my lord."

"Aldric," Voldemort said softly, his voice a serpentine hiss. "I am pleased to see you take the initiative and fill the vacuum left behind by Octavius Selwyn."

The words seemingly warped Aldric's mind, and he was not sure if he was truly being praised or threatened. Selwyn had been brutally killed by the very same man not even a day ago, and here he was, filling his spot. However, he found himself bowing his head in acknowledgment, muttering a tight-lipped, "Thank you, my Lord."

Voldemort hummed low in his throat and moved on, not waiting for further response, stepping in front of the woman to his left.

"And who are you?" He asked gently, placing a hand on her shoulder like he had done with Aldric. The woman, Sarina, shuddered under the touch she felt on her bare skin. It felt comforting and oppressive in equal measure, and as much as she could feel the assurance radiating from the man, the coldness was as overpowering. She had been working hard for years to ask for fair treatment of werewolves, having seen how her entire family had been persecuted just because some rogues had turned them. Her life had been spent in poverty, her people forced to scrape for the barest of necessities, and her journey had brought her little more than pain. Yet, nothing had prepared her for the attention of the man whose gaze she could feel boring into her.

She swallowed a lump in her throat, her fist tightening on her robes as she said softly, "I am Sarina, my lord."

"Sarina," Voldemort repeated. "A lovely name, and an oddly fitting one as well. I see you have also taken up the seat vacated by the woman who was foolish enough to disrespect me. Very good. I have high hopes for you as well."

Sarina breathed out raggedly, the meaning dawning on her with crystal clarity. She was in the Dark Lord's favor, and she knew what it entailed.

She felt him turn around and walk away. Try as she might, she could not help but exchange a wary glance with Aldric, both feeling the disturbed eyes of their comrades on them, and the weight of their enmity seemed to momentarily be lifted in the face of the gravity of the situation.

Voldemort's eyes hardened as he walked over to the center of the room where he could see everyone. His cloak billowed behind him as he strode past the Death Eaters who shivered when they felt his eyes fall on them.

"I sense conflict brewing in my ranks. Discontent, even. Some seem to harbor dissent over my decisions," he said, his voice dripping with disdain as he eyed the pureblood lords. Each one of them shivered under his withering gaze. "My faithful Death Eaters… I believe I did not make myself clear before. Your feelings on these matters are of no consequence. The winds of change are upon us." His eyes glinted dangerously as the temperature around the room dropped. "You will adapt, or you will find you no longer have a place in the new world."

A visible shudder passed through the Death Eaters as the meaning of those words dawned on them. Wide-eyed, they exchanged shocked looks with each other, their heads still bowed as they remained on their knees.

Abraxas Malfoy, as shocked as the rest of his associates, watched them all staring at him with pleading eyes. Those cowards were begging him to say something… to the Dark Lord!

He chanced a glance up at the Dark Lord, only to find his crimson eyes already on him. He shivered as he spoke, "Speak, Abraxas."

Abraxas gulped as he raised his head, but he remained on his knees. Fear was coursing through him, and he did not believe he could manage to stand proudly on his own two feet.

" My Lord," he began, struggling to keep his voice steady. "We live only to serve your vision. But surely… after the tragedy in Hogsmeade… after we all lost our beloved children… surely"

"Silence!" Voldemort's voice cut through the air like a whip. Abraxas visibly recoiled, his pace face draining of what little color remained. "The deaths of your heirs indeed set us back, forcing me to evaluate our approach going forward. But do not speak of tragedies as though you understand what it truly means."

Abraxas stared back with wide eyes, full of fear.

"Beloved children?" Voldemort mocked. "They were assets, Abraxas. Tools to carry your family name. Nothing else." His face took on a disgusted edge as he continued, "Love? An emotion so worthless and fickle. We both know it does not exist in our world. Not truly."

The words hung in the air, and they all felt as if they were commandments given by a higher being himself.

"But where one door closes, another opens. This incident has also opened the path to a greater truth," Voldemort continued, his voice softening into something more contemplative. It felt as if he had come to this realization not too long ago himself. "I no longer need to rely on your outdated bloodlines." His gaze swept across the room, taking in the stunned expressions of his Inner Circle members. "Power," he said, his voice growing in strength. "True power does not come from ancient names or purity of blood. It comes from those who are willing to seize it – those with ambition, with vision, and with abilities and courage."

A tense silence fell over the room as the Death Eaters, still on their knees, gazed up at the Dark Lord with their mouths agape and their hearts racing a million miles a minute. Fear crept into their hearts as the realization dawned on them.

They had always believed the Dark Lord would bring about their salvation, that their bloodlines, their lineage, made them indispensable to the Dark Lord, and that he was the champion they had been waiting for.

However, now, they realized how wrong they had been. They were now faced with the bitter truth, one that shook the very foundations of their lives – they were replaceable, and it seemed the replacement had already begun.

From his spot at the center of the room, Voldemort surveyed his shocked servants and a cruel smile curled his lips. The wheels of change were already set in motion.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

Voldemort's lips stretched into a terrible smile, his eyes sharp and predatory, filled with malice. Anyone who saw could hardly believe such a handsome face could morph into something so evil.

He cast a slow, penetrating gaze across the dim room, his crimson eyes gleaming with cold satisfaction. "The Ministry believes they have won a great victory," he hissed, his voice barely louder than a whisper, yet carrying enough venom to make even his most loyal followers shudder. "They grow complacent, foolishly convinced that the threat has been neutralized, that they have achieved some great triumph."

His eyes moved deliberately over his assembled followers, lingering on the new arrivals—particularly Aldric and Sarina—in a way that made even the most seasoned of his Death Eaters glance uneasily at each other. Voldemort gestured to them with a casual flick of his hand, inviting them forward, and they stepped into the open with hesitant but steady strides. Their faces were unreadable, but there was a flicker of something fierce, almost defiant, in their eyes. Whatever grudges they had once held against each other had been buried under something far more dangerous. Buried, but not dead. They held a shared ambition, one borne out of both opportunism and fear, and it was a hunger that Voldemort both recognized and intended to exploit.

"Your organizations," Voldemort began, his tone a chilling mixture of cunning and grudging approval, "have shown me something rare indeed—a capacity to sway the masses, to inspire unwavering loyalty in those foolish enough to follow you without proper planning or strategy. A herd mentality in every sense, which guides one nowhere. However, under my guidance, we shall take that enthusiasm, that raw, volatile power, and shape it into something that will send shockwaves through Wizarding Britain."

He turned, his gaze snapping back to his Death Eaters. Their faces were masks of strained loyalty, but the unease was plain in their darting eyes and rigid postures. Voldemort's smile widened, and he let the silence linger, drawing out their discomfort. When he finally spoke again, his voice was as cold and sharp as a blade. "You will work alongside our new allies," he declared. "You will share your knowledge, your resources, your loyalty—and yes, you will obey their strategies where I deem it necessary."

A murmur rippled through the ranks, and the sound was subtle but unmistakable. Voldemort's gaze darkened, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "And any who hesitate, who think themselves above my command or above these new alliances—any who even entertain such treachery—will be dealt with… appropriately."

The murmur died instantly. The Death Eaters stiffened, their faces paling as his threat sank in. Voldemort's smile returned, cold and devoid of any warmth. "I will not tolerate insubordination," he continued, letting his words slither through the room like poison. "You will follow my orders, and you will embrace this alliance. I care little for your petty notions of superiority or your wounded pureblood pride. You will bend, and you will serve as I see fit."

He paused, letting the sheer weight of his words settle over them, watching with satisfaction as the Death Eaters' expressions shifted from mere unease to outright fear. They knew, as they had always known, that Voldemort's favor was as fickle as a shadow, and that the price of falling out of his grace was steep and swift.

Finally, the Dark Lord turned his gaze back to Aldric and Sarina, who stood with a newfound confidence, watching the shaken Death Eaters with barely concealed triumph. Voldemort nodded, a thin smile stretching across his face. "Now then," he hissed, satisfaction dripping from his voice. "We have a world to reshape, and I will not have petty ambitions or prejudices hinder my designs. I have no use for followers who cannot put their own pride aside in service to a higher purpose—my purpose."

A silence fell, heavy and oppressive, as his final words echoed through the room. Voldemort's eyes swept over them all once more, and the message was unmistakable: there would be no dissent, no questioning of his commands. They would obey him, and they would do so willingly—or they would face consequences beyond imagination.

It felt as if the very room seemed to hold its breath as his words truly sunk in, filling every dark corner with their cold finality. Aldric and Sarina stood a little taller, emboldened by the new power their new benefactor had offered them. Meanwhile, the Death Eaters shifted uneasily, their eyes shadowed with dread as they realized their positions were now as fragile as glass, and as dangerous to cling to as a blade.

Voldemort's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, his voice once more dropping to a near whisper. "Now… let us begin."

He raised a robed hand, motioning for silence as he regarded Aldric and Sarina with an expression of sinister pride. His eyes flicked between the two, his gaze sharp, penetrating, as if probing the depths of their souls. As their lord's eyes flashed a sinister shade of crimson, the Death Eaters shifted uneasily. They recognized this ritual and what it meant. The Dark Mark—the ultimate symbol of their lord's favor, but also his ownership—was about to be bestowed, should they come true.

The tension in the room thickened as Voldemort let out a small breath. He turned his full attention to Aldric, his voice dropping to a low, compelling tone. "Aldric…" He began, his voice a gentle caress and yet firm. "You have proven yourself a worthy ally to your comrades. You are ruthless, cunning. Unforgiving." He extended his pale, long-fingered hand, and Aldric, though visibly skeptical of the unknown, did not flinch as he took a single step forward. "You, and your people despise the creatures who tore through your bloodlines," Voldemort murmured, his voice nearly affectionate, though every word dripped with malice. "But you are wise enough to recognize power—wherever it may come from."

Aldric's jaw tightened as he nodded, his resentment momentarily replaced by something close to begrudging respect. He was a man who had once sworn to exterminate werewolves for the pureblood families who had offered him a place among them. Yet, here he stood now, at the mercy of a man who not only tolerated their kind but saw value in the very creatures Aldric despised.

"And Sarina," Voldemort continued, turning to her, his tone shifting to a mocking, silken murmur. "Champion of the outcasts, so-called liberator of the oppressed."

Sarina's eyes narrowed, and though her lips twisted slightly at Voldemort's words, she remained silent. Voldemort regarded her with a cold smirk.

"Your side of the rebellion was born of fury—fury against the Ministry, fury against the old families who looked upon werewolves as little more than beasts," the Dark Lord continued in the same silken whisper, his words ensnaring both her and her comrades. "Your people took up arms not only for survival but for vengeance, and their hatred for purebloods is as raw as everyone's disdain for those you seek to protect and uplift."

Sarina and her group's eyes darted around, knowing that apart from them, every other person wanted the extermination of werewolves from the face of the planet. And yet, like Aldric, they had seen the value in aligning with Voldemort, understanding that his vision extended far beyond the ministry's fickle politics.

"Each of you has fought in your own way," Voldemort continued, his gaze moving between the gathered witches and wizards, all of whom gave him their undivided attention. His lips curled, as he said disdainfully, "And each of you has tasted failure."

He let the words hang, watching their expressions darken with barely concealed rage. He smiled, his lips thin and the expression on his face cruel.

"But under my rule, you will no longer scrape for power. I will grant you a purpose higher than any you could have conjured on your own. I will give you the means to reshape this world into one that fears, and obeys, us."

With a swift motion, Voldemort raised his wand, directing it toward Aldric's forearm. Aldric straightened, his face taut with both anticipation and tension. As the tip of the wand pressed into his skin, Voldemort's voice became a hiss, low and ancient, as he began the incantation that would seal Aldric's fate.

As the words slipped from Voldemort's lips, a searing pain exploded in Aldric's arm. He clenched his jaw but did not make a sound, though his eyes gleamed with both agony and a fierce sense of triumph. A dark shape twisted into being on his skin—a skull with a serpent emerging from its mouth, writhing and vivid. It felt as if someone was carving his skin open with a burning sword, inscribing a deadly pattern that had a life of its own. He held his breath, his teeth clenched firmly, and slowly, the pain subsided, leaving Aldric with a cold, exhilarating thrill. He had been marked, accepted, and elevated. Equal in hierarchy to those who looked down on him.

Voldemort's gaze shifted to Sarina, whose steely composure had not faltered in the slightest. He gestured for her to step forward, his crimson eyes glinting with dark amusement. "And now… my fierce Sarina," he said softly, his words both mocking and admiring. "You and your rebellion have fought in the name of justice," he sneered slightly, "but here, you will serve my justice."

Sarina raised her arm without hesitation, her eyes locked on Voldemort's as she dared him silently to see any weakness in her. Voldemort pressed his wand tip against her forearm and the incantation began again. As the mark burned into her skin, her lips thinned, but she held his gaze, refusing to show the pain that blazed up her arm. As the blackened mark took its place, she felt a rush of something she hadn't anticipated: not just power, but the terrifying allure of her lord's vision… and something more. Something intoxicating—a sensation that erupted deep within her gut and consumed her within seconds.

Her pupils dilated, and within a blink of the eyes, her vision cleared, better and more encompassing than ever before. Her chest constricted, and as she gazed into her lord's crimson orbs, the realization dawned on her. It filled her with a thrill of anticipation, making goosebumps rise all over her skin.

She had joined him for ambition, yes, but with this mark searing her skin, she understood that this allegiance demanded more than loyalty. It demanded her very soul, and everything else that she claimed as hers.

Voldemort kept his gaze on her for a few more moments, as understanding dawned on her. With a smirk, he withdrew his wand, letting the silence settle. Slowly, he turned back to the assembled Death Eaters. His voice was a soft, insidious murmur that crept into every corner of the room. "These marks," he said, glancing at Aldric and Sarina, "are the ultimate bond, the last step in your service to me. They bind you to my will—and to my command." He paused, his gaze narrowing on the older followers who watched with expressions veiled in dread. "Those of you who have grown… complacent in your loyalty would do well to remember this. I decide who stands at my side. Your words are winds, and they hold no weight."

Abraxas and his allies visibly stiffened. Their lord's words left no room for misinterpretation anymore, and the last vestiges of hope that had remained within them evaporated in an instant. They knew now that he would cull even them without an ounce of hesitation if they faltered in the slightest. He had already demonstrated how crucial they were for his grand plans when he massacred Corvus, and with a shudder, they all realized it could very well happen to one or all of them.

As if reading their thoughts, Voldemort allowed his voice to harden to a menacing whisper. "If any of you believe that your service makes you irreplaceable, consider this a warning. You will do as I say, and you will find joy in it—or I will find someone who can."

Aldric and Sarina's eyes swept over the Death Eaters, both now marked with the Dark Lord's symbol, and they were emboldened by the fear they saw. In this room, they understood, that no one was safe—not the old, loyal followers, nor the ambitious newcomers. However, one thing was clear—they now sat at the same table with those prissy pureblood lords who looked down on them.

Voldemort turned his back to them all, his voice slipping into a hiss. "Now… let us begin with the first steps of our new order." He gestured for Aldric and Sarina to follow, leading them toward the far end of the room where a dark map lay unfurled across a table. He gave his wand a casual flick and various locations glowed faintly. It was the start of a plan that would bring magical Britain firmly to its knees. The aurors were weak, wounded, and tired. It was the perfect time to strike.

As they moved closer, Voldemort spoke to them in a low tone. "You will lead your followers to these places," he murmured, his finger tracing the map. "The Ministry must be made to see its own futility. First, you will spread panic. Strikes against whoever you encounter, no matter what their allegiance is. Let them know fear."

Aldric inclined his head, the glimmer of sadistic satisfaction flickering in his eyes.

Voldemort turned to Sarina, his tone a tad softer but just as lethal. "And you, Sarina—you will lead your followers to strike where the Ministry is strongest, yet most vulnerable. Let your followers unleash chaos all over Wizarding London. Disrupt their support structures. They must be too panicked to form a proper response, and you will take full advantage of it. All of you, make them afraid to even speak of their own laws."

Sarina's eyes gleamed with satisfaction at the thought, and she inclined her head, agreeing to carry out this plan.

Voldemort stepped back, watching the two with the satisfaction of a master craftsman surveying his latest creation. "This is only the beginning," he said, his voice carrying a note of almost pride. "Together, we will dismantle their world—and build our own. But before we venture further ahead, you will prove yourselves, to me, to each other, and to everyone else that you are worthy of being called my Death Eaters. For too long have I allowed name and hierarchy to dictate the value of my most loyal. Not anymore."

His older Death Eaters stiffened after another of their lord's insulting jabs toward them, and as much as they felt enraged at being treated as such, they knew they could do nothing. Their lord's power was absolute, and they were little more than pawns in his grand schemes.

Their future had died with their heirs. And now their present had met a shameful end as well. All that was left for them was to let things run their course, and only one emotion reigned supreme.

A sense of defeated resignation.

-Break-

James Potter pushed open the portrait door to the Gryffindor Common Room, stepping into the warmth and soft glow of the crackling fire. His face was still set in hard lines, his jaw tight, but the familiar comfort of the room soothed him just a little. He spotted them sitting by the fireplace, their gazes locked onto him, and the tension heightened as they took in his expression.

Sirius was the first to break the silence as he walked over and joined them. "So… how'd it go?"

"Well enough, for the most part," James muttered, leaning back in the armchair. "Bastard pulled out something new," his eyes hardened as he recalled the wild, reckless fury in Snape's eyes. "A spell I've never heard before. Sectumsempra. If it'd hit me, I'd probably be sliced open."

Harry's eyes widened slightly as he gazed at James. He had read a number of obscure tomes, but he had never come across that particular spell. He wondered just where Snape had learned about it.

Sirius swore loudly, attracting the attention of a few students who were scattered about the common room. They soon went back to their devices though, already used to such random outbursts from the Black heir.

"That greasy git honestly tried something like that on you? I'll wring his fucking neck."

"He pulled out a spell like that as if it was nothing?" Harry asked searchingly with an edge in his voice, and both James and Sirius turned to him. The latter nodded, sighing.

"Said it was one of his own creations. For people like me."

Harry's face tightened, his normally calm visage now stony. He leaned forward, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the couch. "Snape really said that? A spell that slices people open is for someone like you?" His voice was dangerously low, vibrating with the undercurrent of rage that both the wizards felt themselves. James gritted his teeth, his own knuckles white as he gripped the arms of his chair. All he did was nod once.

"He really thinks he can pull that kind of shit on you and get away with it?" Sirius growled.

"I don't think he was even thinking anymore," James sneered. "It was pure rage… but yeah, he went for me like he wanted to see me hurt."

He looked down at himself, his hand unconsciously rubbing his chest as if he could still feel the air slicing from where the curse had missed him by mere inches. He shuddered, the adrenalin rush from before dissipating as he realized how close he'd come to possibly bleeding out. It wasn't as if Snape would've helped him in any way.

"If I hadn't dodged in the nick of time, I probably would've ended up in the Hospital Wing—maybe even worse…"

"Worse?" Sirius let out a harsh laugh. He glared, growling in a menacing whisper, "I think it's time we reminded Snivellus what happens when he crosses the line."

His fingers curled around his wand as though he was imagining pointing it right at Snape himself.

"Padfoot." James's voice had an edge of warning, though there was something dangerous simmering in his eyes too. "It's not worth getting kicked out of here over him."

"Isn't it?" Sirius shot back, his expression wild with anger. "He's unhinged, Prongs! Anyone who'd make a spell like that has crossed every line possible." He laughed darkly, his voice low. "A curse designed to slice people apart. He's sick."

Harry's jaw worked as he tried to bury the rage that threatened to overwhelm him. He knew Snape was a pathetic asshole, but even he had not imagined that he had delved so deeply into the dark. It made him wonder if he'd truly made the right decision to let him live. After all, James' explanation made it clear that Snape had intended to kill him with that curse, if not fatally wound him, and in his eyes, that made him directly comparable to Malfoy and his ilk.

"He is," he growled low in his throat, but his voice came out even, almost deliberately controlled. The rage was palpable though, and it drew both James and Sirius' attention. He sat back, his jaw set firmly and a dangerous glint in his eyes. "And he can't be allowed to continue doing something like this. Sectumsempra, eh? He narrowly missed this time, or rather, you were capable enough to swerve out of its way, but next time would not be the same. Today, he cast that curse on you. Tomorrow, it could be someone else that's angered him. We all know there is no lack of people he hates."

The tension and Harry's rage were both palpable, and James released a deep breath. "There isn't," he agreed. "I told him to stay away from Evans too."

"And you think he got the message?" Sirius scoffed.

"That is not the priority here, Sirius," Harry's gaze was like steel, cold and unwavering. "He tried to kill James. That's all we need to remember. He failed today, but I can guarantee he's not going to give up easily."

"Then we'll go in together next time," Sirius said fiercely. "He won't get another shot at any of us like that."

"Yeah, well… he doesn't need to get a shot as us three to get to us," Harry said darkly, and it was as if someone had unloaded a bucket of icy water over them. James and Sirius' eyes widened, their mouths dry and their breaths coming out in short gasps.

"Y-You mean—"

"I do," Harry said firmly. "Think, you two! Have you learned nothing from the Pettigrew episode!?"

The mere reminder of what that rat had done, and what he'd asked in return for his services made both James and Sirius seethe.

"You're right," the former growled. "Snape is of the same ilk. I can't believe I forgot that."

"I'm not letting him get the chance to do something like that again," Harry hissed. "You know what that means. The question is 'Are you going to man up and do something about it? Or will you leave it to me this time as well?'"

Wide-eyed, James and Sirius exchanged a look, their mind awash with conflicted feelings. They understood what Harry was proposing. They had managed to run away from one obligation before, but they knew their time to take responsibility had long since come.

Harry leaned back and regarded them. They had remained children for too long. It was high time they were held accountable. This war was going to turn ugly, and that meant making hard choices that made you fight against yourself. However, there lay the key to survival in this cruel world.

Slowly, they turned to Harry who regarded them coolly, and it was James who gazed at Harry with as much conviction as he could muster.

"Harry, we all agree that Snape is a pathetic arsehole who deserves everything coming his way," he said softly, and Harry almost let out a sigh. He knew where this was going, and as much as it disappointed him, it filled him with relief for their sake as well. "But we just can't kill him. There has to be another solution that can be as effective, that would give him what he deserves."

Harry released a breath he didn't know he was holding, and he leaned forward, his eyes hard and unyielding.

The people he cared about did not have it in them to kill, and now he begrudgingly accepted it. He also accepted what it meant for him as well.

They might not be able to shoulder that responsibility, but his shoulders were strong enough to carry their loads as well. He was strong, both mentally and magically, to make up for any deficit they left behind. He had been doing it all his life, surviving on his own in a world that had taken everything away from him, leaving him with nothing but more burden since before he had even started to walk.

It was all right for them to leave it to him. He would carry their burden because he was strong and determined enough.

As he gazed at them firmly, he reiterated to himself that it was time to rectify his mistake. They did not want him to die, and as he thought about it, he agreed. Death was a quick reprieve for someone like him. No, what that dour bastard deserved was a place even more dour than him.

He had the perfect plan for someone as abhorrent as Snape. The bastard deserved to rot in the place he had tried his damnedest to push his godfather in. Short of death, that would be the only fitting fate for him.

"Okay. We won't be killing him," Harry said quietly, his face set into one of disdain as he thought about the man and everything he had done to him. This was not the same Snape, but he was as bad, if not worse, after he attempted to murder James.

There was visible relief on both James and Sirius' faces as they gazed at each other for a moment before they turned back to him.

"What then?" James asked quietly.

"Azkaban," Harry stated firmly and leaned back, gazing into the fireplace as James and Sirius exchanged a shocked glance.

"Fitting," the latter nodded after a moment of terse silence during which Harry kept his eyes on the crackling fire. "The bastard deserves nothing less for trying to murder James."

James nodded, his lips set in a thin line, when Harry suddenly stood up. Both he and Sirius stared askance at him.

"I've got something to take care of," he said, and without a backward glance, he turned around and purposefully walked out of the common room.

James and Sirius stared at the exit alcove for a few seconds before they exchanged another firm look with each other. As one, they too got to their feet and walked away toward their dormitory.

Outside the common room, a sneering Harry Peverell pulled the cloak over himself, vanishing out of view. His eyes set straight ahead, he made his way over to the Grand Staircase.

His mind was made up and it was filled with a multitude of tumultuous thoughts. It was a mess, and he knew just the pair of beautiful ladies who could both help him out in this situation and understand him perfectly.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

The tension in Harry's chest began to ebb as he descended the Grand Staircase, his mind set on the one place he could find solace tonight. The Marauder's Map tucked in his robes had guided him well, its ink tracing out the familiar routes to the Slytherin dormitories. Under his Invisibility Cloak, he moved soundlessly, avoiding both students and patrolling professors with practiced ease. His mind churned, but the thought of Narcissa and Bellatrix awaiting him steadied his tumultuous thoughts.

He slipped through the concealed entrance of the Slytherin common room and found it almost empty. His eyes searched for a particular greasy head but could not spot him anywhere. Pushing the dour bastard out of his mind, Harry turned to the alcove that led to the dormitories, climbing the steps until he reached his destination.

With the cloak's concealment magic working perfectly, Harry slowly pushed the door to their room and discreetly stepped inside, pulling it close behind himself. As he walked into the room, he could hear the faint murmur of their voices behind the bathroom door, and he pulled the cloak over himself, putting it away in one of his pockets. He almost called out for them when he heard his name, and curiosity got the better of him. Slowly, he made his way over to the bathroom door and listened intently, his ears peeled.

Inside the bathroom, Bellatrix was lying relaxed in the bathtub that was filled with enchanted water that soothed her skin and washed away all the impurities from her body. Her legs rested one over the other on the edge of the bathtub and so did both her arms. The rest of her body was hidden beneath the bubbly surface, and she cut an alluring figure with her long legs displayed along with the upper half of her breasts as she twirled a curly strand of her raven hair around her finger, the rest of her hair pulled up in a bun and held in place by her curved walnut wand.

Her signature smirk was firmly in place as she gazed at her twin who stood in front of the long mirror, with only her towel wrapped around her curvaceous frame. The thick and soft fabric strained against both her bust and rear, hiking up slightly to display her thighs and legs in all their glory. Like her twin, the upper halves of her breasts were also visible beyond the edge of the towel, and she stood, gazing at herself in the mirror as she prepared for bed. Her face was set in composed exasperation as she listened to her twin's animated prattle.

"I'm telling you, Cissy, there's just something so…" Bellatrix paused dramatically, her voice sultry as she tapped her finger against her lips, "so delicious about Harry when he's all broody and intense. That look he gets in his eyes… like he's just daring the world to come at him. Merlin help me, I'd let him ruin me right there on the bloody Quidditch pitch."

"Bella," Narcissa sighed, a mixture of disbelief and amusement flickering across her face. "You can't possibly say things like that out loud. You're incorrigible."

"Oh, hush," Bellatrix replied, dismissing her twin's halfhearted reproach with a wave of her hand, her grin widening. "It's just you here. What do I have to hide from you? And don't act like you don't see it too. The man's practically dripping with raw, unrestrained power. You've got to admit it's sexy. And that confidence—ugh. He could command me to do anything, and I'd—"

"Stop right there," Narcissa interrupted, holding up a hand. "I don't need a mental image of you and Harry in some weird scenario that you've concocted in that deranged little brain of yours."

Outside the bathroom, Harry's eyes widened slightly but he kept listening, his mood improving substantially.

"Deranged?" Bellatrix asked in mock offense, and it was so exaggerated that Harry had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing out loud. "Cissy, darling, you wound me. You should embrace my creativity! Speaking of which..." She leaned closer, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper which was still loud enough to carry beyond the closed door. "I've been thinking of ways to, shall we say, enhance our quality time with him when we finally cross that line."

"I'm gonna regret this, aren't I?"

"Oh hush," Bellatrix shushed her sister as she continued, "it's only a matter of time anyway. I know you've thought about it as well. How good your first time would be. And we both come as a package deal, meaning double the fun!"

Outside the door, Harry could not help but let his imagination go.

Narcissa could only shake her head in disbelief, though her lips twitched in amusement. "I can't believe I'm having this conversation. With you, no less."

"Hey now! We might be twins, but we're soon to be sister-wives, right?"

"Aren't you jumping the gun here, Bella?" Narcissa asked with a chuckle. "We might be couples, but we've not discussed marriage yet."

"Come on, Cissy. Harry loves us, and we love him. There's no way we're not getting married," Bellatrix grinned wistfully. Her voice took on a lecherous tone once again as she continued, "Now then, think about how we can improvise when the time comes. Maybe some enchantments? Kinks and fetishes? Something fun to spice things up a bit."

"I really can't believe this is happening right now," Narcissa remarked.

"Well, believe it," Bellatrix said, her grin widening. "And you can't convince me you're not thinking the exact same thing. You just have a reputation to maintain, Miss 'I'm-So-Demure.' Let me guess—you're imagining him reading to you by candlelight before he ravishes you in the moonlight or some nonsense."

Narcissa's cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson, but she rolled her eyes. "Hardly. Unlike you, I'm not a walking innuendo. I appreciate him for his mind, Bella. His loyalty. His strength. He's thoughtful, kind—"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Cissy!" Bellatrix exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "You can't convince me you didn't see that he's built like a bloody Greek god! And hung like one as well! Merlin, that cock of his…"

Narcissa pressed a hand to her temple, clearly torn between exasperation and laughter. "You're impossible."

"And you love me for it," Bellatrix said, her voice softening as she leaned back. "Speaking of our love, I'll bet Harry's wandering around brooding right now, thinking about how he can save the world and take care of us at the same time. Honestly, it's adorable. Tragic, but adorable."

Outside the door, Harry felt an unexpected warmth spread through him, melting away some of the ice that had encased his heart. They had not known each other for that long, but in their own unconventional ways, both Bellatrix and Narcissa understood him like no other. While the former was outrageous and frankly hilarious, Narcissa was quiet and grounding, keeping him level-headed. Both the witches had a strange way of settling the storm that surged inside him.

He shifted his attention back to them when Bellatrix sighed dramatically. "But really, Cissy, if we're being honest, what I'd like most is for him to just let loose for once. You know, forget all his bloody responsibilities and just... " She trailed off, gesturing vaguely but suggestively, forming a circle with her thumb and index finger while inserting the other middle finger through. "We'd make sure to give him so much pleasure that he'd never forget it. He'd never regret taking his mind off everything that's going on."

Narcissa gave her twin a long-suffering look, though her small smile betrayed her fondness for her. "Maybe you should keep those thoughts to yourself until he's actually here. Tell him yourself what you want him to do. Can you imagine if he overheard any of this?"

Harry took that moment to make his presence known. He turned the knob and pushed the door open. The sound echoed around the bathroom like a bang, and both women froze.

Bellatrix jerked and straightened quickly, her eyes wide as she gazed at Harry, uncaring of how exposed she was to him. Meanwhile, Narcissa's head whipped around, her usually composed demeanor shattering entirely. Naked and hidden behind bubbles and a towel respectively, both women stared at Harry in shock.

"Oh, don't mind me," Harry said, slowly stepping inside the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. "I was just enjoying listening to your little chat about us."

A small smirk appeared on his face that matched the one on Bellatrix's face who comfortably leaned back into the bathtub, biting her index finger sultrily between her teeth as she gazed back at him.

She let out a chuckle, eyeing him. "Well, well, well! Look who's been eavesdropping. You sneaky little devil."

Narcissa, for her part, looked torn between mortification and resignation. "Harry," she began, her tone reproachful, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough," Harry replied, his smirk widening as he looked between them. "Long enough to know that you two have very... creative imaginations."

Bellatrix grinned wickedly. "Oh, darling, you haven't heard the half of it. Care to… join in and let us show how creative us twins can be?"

Narcissa almost groaned, but any response was cut off when Bellatrix pushed herself to her feet. Bubbles and water droplets cascaded down her chest, traveling over the twin peaks before they dropped off the tips of her nipples. They slid down between the valley of her tits and all over her sides, slowly trailing down her sinful curves teasingly as she stood in the bathtub in all her naked glory. Slowly, before both their eyes, she stepped out of the bathtub and stood in front of Harry, unabashed and proud.

For his part, Harry was hungrily taking in the sight that Bellatrix was. His eyes lingered on her sensual curves, his fingers twitching as he longed to reach out and touch her in all the ways he could. Bellatrix watched with satisfaction as his eyes raked over her form and she shivered in place, a tingle of pleasure shooting through her core at the intensity of his gaze. His desire was palpable, inflating hers, and involuntarily, her toes curled.

"You're looking at me as if you've never seen me like this before," she said in a sensual whisper before her eyes shifted to her twin who stood there, her lips parted and her eyes slightly wide.

The tension in the room thickened, the steam emanating from the bath intensifying the heat between the three of them. Harry's jaw tightened as he fought to keep his composure, though his emerald gaze never left Bellatrix. She stood before him like a victorious temptress, her posture defiant and proud as she reveled in his attention.

"You've got a way of making it seem new every time, Bella," he murmured, his voice low and steady, though his hands clenched at his sides to keep from acting on the urge to close the distance between them.

Bellatrix's grin widened, satisfied by the effect she had on him. She stepped closer, the barest sway of her hips sending water droplets scattering to the floor. She raised a hand, trailing her damp fingers from Harry's upper belly and up his chest. The touch sent a shiver down his spine and so did the little proximity between them.

"Flatterer," she purred, her voice a velvet caress. "Though I must admit, I do enjoy how attentive you are."

"Bella," Narcissa interrupted, her tone sharp but laced with a weariness that was borne out of the fact that this wasn't the first time she'd had to rein her twin in, although it had never happened in the setting they now found themselves in. "Could you at least have the decency to dry off before attempting to seduce him?"

Bellatrix turned her head toward her twin, her errant curls swaying as she did. "Decency is overrated, Cissy. Besides," she said, gesturing toward Harry without breaking her stride, "our man here doesn't seem to mind."

Narcissa sighed, clutching her towel tighter around herself, though her lips twitched as though she was fighting back a smile. "He's being polite. Harry, tell her she's being insufferable."

Harry glanced at Narcissa, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. "She's always insufferable. But I don't think that's something I'd want her to change."

Bellatrix laughed, a rich, throaty sound, and turned her attention back to Harry. "See? He gets his Bella perfectly."

"And yet," Narcissa said, stepping closer, her light blonde hair gleaming in the soft light, "he also knows when and how to rein you in. Isn't that right, Harry?"

Harry's gaze flicked to Narcissa, the faintest of smirks playing on his lips. "I think I know when to pick my battles."

Narcissa rolled her eyes, though her expression softened. "A wise answer."

Bellatrix tilted her head, studying her sister with a gleam in her eye. "You're awfully flushed for someone playing the voice of reason, Cissy. Don't think I haven't noticed how you're clutching that towel as if your life depends on it. You can let it drop, you know? It's not as if you're hiding anything he's not seen before."

"I'm flushed," Narcissa said coolly, though her voice was tinged with faint embarrassment, "because this room feels like a sauna, thanks to you."

"Of course," Bellatrix said with mock seriousness, stepping aside to make an exaggerated sweeping gesture. "Would you like to cool off, dear sister? The bath is all yours."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing."

"And what's that?" Bellatrix asked innocently, though her smirk gave her away.

Harry chuckled, breaking the standoff between the two. "I think we can all agree that Bella enjoys making things difficult for everyone."

"Guilty as charged," Bellatrix said unabashedly, crossing her arms under her tits, pushing them up together, and shifting her weight to one hip. Harry couldn't have looked away even if he'd tried.

Her confidence radiated from her, but the sharpness of her teasing softened as she glanced between Harry and Narcissa. "But that's what makes life interesting, isn't it?"

Narcissa shook her head, but a faint smile tugged at her lips. "If by 'interesting' you mean exhausting, then yes."

"Exhausting or not," Harry said, his voice steady but tinged with warmth as he gazed at them, "you two have a way of making everything... unforgettable."

Bellatrix tilted her head, her dark curls brushing her cheeks as her smirk deepened. "Unforgettable," she echoed, her voice dripping with playful seduction. "I'll take that as a compliment. But tell me, Harry," she stepped closer again, her fingertips ghosting just near his arm this time, not quite touching, "what's the most unforgettable thing about us?"

Narcissa sighed, shaking her head even as she tightened her grip on the towel above her breasts. "Really, Bella? Must you fish for compliments like some lovesick schoolgirl?"

"Schoolgirl?" Bellatrix repeated, laughing. "Oh, my dear twin, I'm far beyond those airheads. And besides," she added with a devilish grin, "Harry wants to tell us. Don't you, Harry?"

Harry shifted his weight slightly, his smirk growing. "You don't need me to tell you what you already know, Bella. Confidence suits you." His gaze flicked briefly to Narcissa, his voice softening. "And so does elegance."

Bellatrix placed a hand dramatically over her heart, her grin widening. "Oh, he's good. Isn't he good, Cissy?"

Narcissa's faint blush deepened, but she met Harry's eyes with a gentle smile, her voice steady. "He's very good. And far too generous with his words when it comes to you."

Bellatrix turned to her twin with a mock pout. "Jealousy doesn't become you, sister dearest."

Narcissa exhaled a quiet laugh, her composure slipping just enough to show her amusement. "Hardly. I'm merely pointing out that Harry has the patience of a saint to indulge you."

Harry interjected, his tone light but sincere as he smiled at them lovingly. "I think you both underestimate how much I enjoy indulging you—both of you."

For a moment, the bathroom fell silent as the sisters stared at Harry. Narcissa glanced away first, her cheeks faintly tinged with color, while Bellatrix's smirk faltered into something softer, something more genuine.

"Well then," Bellatrix said after a beat, her tone quieter but still laced with mischief. "If that's the case, maybe we should reward you for all your indulgence."

Narcissa's eyes darted to her sister, her tone sharp but without malice. "Bella, you know we can't. Not yet."

Bellatrix waved her off dismissively, her grin returning. "Relax, Cissy. I'm not planning anything too scandalous... yet."

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "I have to agree with Cissa. You're incorrigible, Bella."

"And just like Cissy, you love me for it," she shot back, her pride unwavering. She turned to Narcissa, her gaze teasing but affectionate. "Come now, Cissy, don't be such a spoilsport. There's nothing we need to hide from Harry, and there is nothing we cannot tell him either. I think he deserves to see us at our very best."

"Define 'best,'" Narcissa said dryly, though her lips twitched as though she was fighting back a smile.

"Radiant," Bellatrix declared, gesturing to herself dramatically. "Exquisite. Utterly irresistible."

Narcissa finally let out a soft laugh, the sound melodic in the steamy room. "You're really impossible."

"And yet," Bellatrix said, stepping back toward the tub with an exaggerated sway, "here we are. All together. Coincidence? I think not."

Narcissa rolled her eyes but she moved closer to Harry, her towel still firmly in place as she shot him a wry look. "You must think we're a madhouse."

Harry's gaze softened, his smile warm. "I think you're perfect the way you are. Both of you."

They smiled lovingly at him, and Bellatrix grinned, her dark eyes gleaming with mischief as she stepped closer to Harry, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his sleeve. "Well then," she purred, her voice dripping with anticipation, "if we're going to enjoy this properly, we can't have you standing there all… overdressed."

Harry arched a brow, his lips quirking into a faint smile. "Is that so?"

"Oh, absolutely," Bellatrix said, her grin widening. She glanced over her shoulder at Narcissa, who stood slightly apart, her towel still wrapped securely around her. "Don't you agree, Cissy?"

Narcissa's lips parted, her composure faltering for a moment. "Bella," she began, her tone hesitant, "I don't think—"

"Oh, hush," Bellatrix interrupted, waving her hand dismissively. "We're all adults here, and Harry doesn't seem to mind. Do you, Harry?"

Harry chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Not in the slightest."

"See?" Bellatrix said triumphantly, turning back to her twin. "Now, be a dear and help me out, won't you?"

Narcissa hesitated, her pale blue eyes flicking between her sister and Harry. There was a faint blush on her cheeks, but she sighed softly, a mix of resignation and desire in her expression. "You're impossible," she murmured, though there was no real bite to her words.

"And you love me for it," Bellatrix replied cheekily. She stepped even closer to Harry, her hands already moving to the hem of his shirt. "She wants it too as well, but she's too stuck-up to admit it. Now, hold still, love. This won't take long."

Her fingers were deft and unhurried, slipping beneath the fabric to push it upward, her touch warm against his skin. Harry's gaze remained steady, a flicker of amusement and desire in his eyes as he watched her sensual curves up close, all exposed. Meanwhile, Narcissa stepped forward hesitantly, her movements slower and more deliberate. Her hands brushed against Bellatrix's as they worked together, sliding the shirt up and over Harry's head.

"There," Bellatrix said, tossing the shirt aside with a satisfied smile. Her gaze traveled appreciatively over Harry's chest, lingering for a moment before she smirked up at him. "This sight will never get old, and excuse me, but this time, I'm going to enjoy eyeing you up fully."

Harry let out a chuckle at that, and there was nothing from Narcissa who too raked her eyes over his form, her gaze lingering on certain spots.

"Appreciating the view, Cissy?" Bellatrix whispered as she leaned over, her breath hot against her twin's ear.

No matter what she had been saying, Narcissa could not deny that she desired Harry as much, if not more than Bella. She rolled her eyes but said nothing, her hands moving to the waistband of Harry's trousers. Her touch was more tentative than her sister's, her fingers brushing lightly against his skin as she worked. Suddenly, Harry's hand came to rest gently on hers, stopping her movements for a moment.

"Cissa," he said quietly, his voice steady and warm. She looked up at him, her expression curious. "Take your time if you want."

She gave him a small smile but shook her head. She wanted him to know she desired him as well, that she might not be as outspoken as her twin was, but she did not lack in the slightest.

She resumed her task with a quiet determination, not knowing that her twin watched with a pleased smile, her arms crossed as if she were enjoying a private victory.

Once the last of his clothing had been discarded, Harry turned to Narcissa, his gaze softening. He reached out, his hand brushing against her arm as he spoke. "Your turn."

Narcissa gazed at him, one hand fisting the towel right over her breasts, and she gazed Harry right in the eyes.

"You want to see me naked again?" She whispered sultrily, her eyes half-lidded, relishing in how his eyes widened slightly for a moment before a predatory gleam entered them. Narcissa's heartbeat intensified and she wordlessly loosened her fist and pulled her hand to the side, giving him the go-ahead.

She kept her eyes locked with him all the time, conveying her desire for him silently, and she stood still even when he reached out to untie the towel from around her. A faint shiver coursed through her, enhancing her desire even further, when she felt his touch on the delicate skin of her breasts as he grabbed the towel, and with a tug, he freed her from those confines.

The fabric slipped away, pooling at her feet as her pale skin gleamed in the candlelight. All the while, Harry's gaze remained steady, his expression one of quiet reverence as his fingers brushed lightly against her neck, slowly sliding along her shoulder and down her arm. She threaded her fingers through his as she stood naked before him, proud and confident.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his eyes taking her in. He shifted them to her twin who stepped closer, standing to her left, and with his other hand, he caressed her cheek lovingly. "And you. You're both breathtaking."

Both their cheeks flushed at his reverential tone, their eyes softening as they met his gaze. They all knew they were taking a significant step forward in their relationship right now, and they realized what it implied.

Bellatrix, never one to be serious for long, wrapped her free arm around her twin, pulling her naked flesh flush against herself, their breasts pressing hotly. "Now that we're all on equal footing," she said with a wicked grin, "shall we?"

Narcissa glanced at her with amusement as she pulled her wand from her bun, letting her dark waves fall all over her back and shoulders. She pointed her wand at the bathtub and gave it a flick, enlarging it enough so that it could accommodate all three of them comfortably. The enchanted water rippled invitingly, steam rising in gentle curls.

With their hands clasped and fingers intertwined, Harry gently pulled them toward the bathtub. He guided Narcissa into the tub first, following right after her as she lowered herself into the warm water. Once he was in, he helped Bellatrix who followed close behind, her movements relaxed and unhurried.

The warm water enveloped them as they settled in, the raw, sexual tension that had filled the room earlier giving way to a sense of ease. All three straightened their legs underwater, resting them against or over one another. Bellatrix leaned back against the edge of the tub, her dark hair fanning out around her as she sighed contentedly. "Now this is more like it."

Narcissa sat closer to Harry, her posture relaxed but still composed as she leaned into him. "For once," she said, glancing at her sister, "I agree with you."

Harry let out a quiet laugh, utterly relaxed and unguarded as he kept his arms wrapped around his two girlfriends. "I'll admit, this is a nice way to end the night."

Bellatrix smirked, tilting her head toward him. "Oh, Harry. The night's far from over."

Narcissa merely shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. Bellatrix glanced over at her and smirked, glad that she and her twin were on the same page now.

The three of them settled into a rhythm, their conversation light and filled with quiet laughter. Bellatrix's teasing was balanced by Narcissa's dry wit, and Harry's steady presence anchored them both. At one point, Bellatrix reached out, her fingers trailing along Harry's thigh, her touch playful but lingering as she teased him.

Narcissa, not to be outdone, placed a hand lightly on his shoulder, her touch softer but no less desirous. Their gazes met, and for a moment, the world outside the warm, steamy room seemed to fade away. Harry's hand found hers beneath the water, their fingers intertwining as he leaned closer, his lips brushing lightly against hers in a kiss that was both tender and full of quiet intensity.

Bellatrix watched with a satisfied smile, her gaze flicking between the two of them. "Now that is how you enjoy a bath," she murmured, enjoying the sight of them kissing softly. As they slowly pulled away, Bellatrix remarked teasingly, "Oh, don't mind me. I'm just enjoying the view."

Narcissa cast her twin a sidelong glance, an eyebrow raised. "Must you always comment on everything?"

"Yes," Bellatrix replied with a grin. "But tonight, I might make an exception… if you two give me something worth watching."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle softly at her brazen demand, shaking his head as he turned his attention back to Narcissa. "You know she won't stop unless you give her what she wants."

"I'm aware," Narcissa murmured, though her voice carried an undercurrent of amusement despite her exasperation. She shifted slightly, her hand slipping down from Harry's shoulder to rest on his chest, her touch light but deliberate. Her gaze flicked to his, searching, before she leaned forward, closing the small gap between them.

Their lips met in another kiss that was soft at first, tentative, but grew deeper and passionate as Narcissa's hand slid upward to cradle the back of Harry's neck. His hands found her waist beneath the water, his touch firm but gentle as he pulled her closer. Narcissa melted into him, her wet and bare breasts pressing hotly against his chest, and her usual composure giving way to something freer and raw.

Bellatrix grinned unabashedly at the sight, feeling herself getting aroused as they made out heatedly. Her eyes followed Harry's hands as he held and caressed her twin's sinfully wet body and how her twin's large tits were pressing against him.

"Well, well," she said, pushing off the edge of the tub and shifting slightly to move closer. "I knew you had it in you, Cissy."

Narcissa pulled back slightly, her cheeks flushed, but her lustful gaze didn't waver from Harry's equally aroused eyes. "For once," she said softly, "could you not interrupt?"

Bellatrix let out a tinkling laugh, her voice rich and unrestrained. "Interrupt? Oh, dear sister, I'm enhancing the moment." She slid closer, her movements relaxed as the water rippled around her. "Besides," she added, her grin widening as she looked at Harry who took in the vision that she was, "don't think you're getting off that easily, love. There's more than enough of you to go around."

Harry raked his eyes over her form before slowly gazing at her in the eyes, his smirk returning. "Is that so?"

"Absolutely," Bellatrix purred, her hands finding his shoulders as she leaned in, turning him toward her. Her dark eyes locked with his, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. "And I don't believe in being left out."

Before he could reply, Bellatrix closed the gap between them, her lips capturing his in a kiss that was bold and unapologetic, a stark contrast to Narcissa's earlier tenderness. She pressed herself fully against him, straddling him almost but not quite as they kissed, their lips dueling furiously as their tongues tangled in a battle for submission. As Harry's hands began moving, caressing her sides up and down, her hands slid down his arms as well, her nails lightly grazing his skin, sending a shiver through him. When she finally pulled back, her smirk was triumphant as she gazed at his wanton face. She loved to see that look on his face and she wanted to keep seeing more of it.

"See?" she said, glancing at her twin with a wink. "Sharing is indeed caring."

Narcissa rolled her eyes, though there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "You're insufferable."

"And you're predictable," Bellatrix countered, moving to settle beside Harry, her hand trailing along his arm. "But that's why we make such a lovely pair."

Harry chuckled softly, shaking his head as he looked between the two of them. "You two really don't make things easy."

"Would you want it any other way?" Bellatrix quipped, her grin wicked.

He met her gaze, his smirk softening. "No, I suppose I wouldn't."

Narcissa's hand found his again beneath the water, her fingers intertwining with his as she leaned closer. "We might not make it easy," she said quietly, her voice carrying a note of sincerity, "but we make it worthwhile."

Smiling in contentment, Harry leaned back with the two beautiful twins pressed flush against him. He pulled his hand out of Narcissa's grasp and wrapped his arms around them. They grinned at each other before leaning against him fully, all three basking in the comfort as their breaths evened out over the following few minutes.

"Now then," Bellatrix said softly, her voice a stark contrast to what it had been mere moments ago. She rubbed gentle circles on her boyfriend's chest as she continued, "What's wrong now?"

"Hm?"

"Something happened, didn't it, Harry?" Narcissa asked, continuing her twin's line of thought as she exchanged a glance with her. "The fact that you came here at this hour tells us there's something troubling you."

Harry let out a soft chuckle as he kept staring straight ahead. "What? I can't come visit my lovely girlfriends whenever I want now? I thought that's why I was given clearance through your great filter at the door."

"You know you've been keyed in just for that reason," Bellatrix murmured.

"Just as you know you can trust us with everything," Narcissa intoned softly. Her hand reached up, cupping his cheek as she made him gaze at them.

Sighing, Harry gave a small nod and began telling them everything that had happened so far regarding Snape, starting from the very beginning and finally ending with the conversation he'd had with James and Sirius before he arrived in their room.

Throughout his explanation, Bellatrix and Narcissa listened on attentively, their frowns growing when Harry explained Snape's fatal curse to them and what he'd said about its origins. Finally, he finished his explanation and with a sigh, he leaned back into the water as they caressed him soothingly.

"I always knew that little greasy shit was bad news," Bellatrix muttered. "Didn't think he'd attempt murder or follow in those losers' footsteps though."

"After Pettigrew, no one should surprise us," Narcissa remarked firmly, earning a nod and a sigh from her twin. "Now, regarding arranging for him to spend time in Azkaban, there is an easy way to get it done."

Harry gazed at her questioningly, and with slight reluctance, Narcissa continued, "You can use the purebloods on the Wizengamot in this case. Snape attempted to murder the sole heir of a pureblood house—one with a permanent seat on the Wizengamot. After so many heirs were killed recently, it would not take much to get him chucked off to Azkaban. It'd take barely an hour, maybe even less."

"Using pureblood privilege to our advantage," Harry muttered. "I agree it's a sound strategy, but…"

"But what?"

Sighing, Harry continued, "I'll have to discuss it with James first, but I don't think he'd be comfortable with us resorting to the very thing he and a lot of our friends hate so much."

"That's politics, Harry," Narcissa said softly. "I understand where they're coming from, and yes, it goes against their principles, but this is most definitely the easiest way to get it done."

Harry nodded absently. He'd already thought of this on his way over here, and it was indeed the easiest way to get rid of Snape. His mind flashed back to the conversation he'd had with James and Sirius, recalling how they'd been against Snape's death. Harry could easily go against their wishes and arrange for something to happen to the greasy bastard, making it look like an accident, but he did not want to go against what they had requested of him.

Sighing, he nodded. "I'll discuss this with them."

"We'll come with you," Bellatrix said firmly, and Narcissa nodded in agreement.

"Sure," Harry smiled, and exchanging a soft kiss with both his girlfriends, he leaned back and allowed himself to bask in the comfort of their presence around him.

TBC.

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Chapter Text

The darkness had settled over the manor like a shroud. Most of the Death Eaters had departed, carrying their lord's orders with them, their faces masks of strained compliance, their once-proud shoulders now hunched with the weight of their new reality. Even Voldemort had made his way out. Only Aldric and Sarina remained, both standing in silence as they watched their underlings file out to await further instructions. Not everyone looked happy, and the pair did not miss those faces.

When the heavy doors finally closed, leaving them alone in the cavernous room, Aldric let out a harsh laugh that echoed against the stone walls.

"Did you see Malfoy's face?" he said, turning to Sarina with cruel amusement dancing in his eyes. "The great pureblood lord, reduced to nothing more than an errand boy alongside the rest of us."

Sarina's lips curled into a cold smile as she absently rubbed her forearm where the Dark Mark now burned, still fresh and raw. "Centuries of breeding and privilege, and all it took was one meeting to strip it away. Almost makes you wonder if they were ever truly powerful to begin with."

She moved toward the large map table that Voldemort had left behind, her steps measured and deliberate. The locations their lord had marked still glowed faintly, pulsing like heartbeats across magical Britain.

"Strange bedfellows we make," Aldric remarked, following her to the table. "You, champion of werewolf rights, and me, who's spent years hunting them down for the very purebloods who can't even look us in the eye anymore."

Sarina's gaze snapped to his face, her eyes sharp and calculating. "Don't pretend this is about principles, Aldric. It never was. Not for you, and if I'm being honest, not entirely for me either."

"Oh?" Aldric raised an eyebrow, his expression mocking. "And here I thought you were the true believer between us. The crusader for werewolf justice, fighting for equality and rights."

"Is that what you thought?" Sarina laughed, the sound brittle in the large, empty room. "Then you're more naive than I gave you credit for. Yes, I believe werewolves deserve better than what this society has given them. But belief doesn't win wars, does it? Power does."

She traced a finger along one of the glowing points on the map, contemplating.

"And what about you?" she asked, not looking up. "How quickly you abandoned your hunt for my kind. Was exterminating werewolves ever a conviction, or just another job for the highest bidder?"

Aldric's jaw tightened, but his voice remained casual. "Does it matter? We're both here now, aren't we? Both wearing his mark, both playing his game."

"It matters," Sarina said, finally looking up at him. "Because I want to know exactly what kind of ally I'm being forced to work with. How quickly will you abandon this cause when something better comes along?"

"As quickly as you would," Aldric shot back without hesitation. "Don't stand there pretending your hands are clean, Sarina. I've seen what your people did to those Ministry officials. That wasn't justice—that was revenge. You enjoyed it as much as any Death Eater would."

A tense silence stretched between them. Neither looked away, neither willing to concede first.

Finally, Sarina spoke, her voice lower now. "You're right. I did enjoy it. After watching my people hunted like animals, after losing my brother to Ministry 'containment procedures'—yes, I enjoyed making them feel what it's like to be prey for once."

"At least you're honest about it," Aldric said with a nod of grudging respect. "Most people would hide behind some noble cause. Justice. Equality. Pretty words that mean nothing when you're powerless."

"And what's your excuse?" Sarina challenged. "What drove you to hunt my kind so ruthlessly, only to stand beside us now?"

Aldric walked around the table, his fingers skimming its surface. "My family was poor, with no connections. No one in the magical world gave a damn about us. But I had skills—tracking, hunting. The purebloods paid well for werewolf heads, and suddenly I had value." He smiled mirthlessly. "It was about hatred at first, but soon, it became an opportunity. It became about survival."

"And now?" Sarina pressed.

"Now?" Aldric laughed quietly. "Now I see a better way to survive. The purebloods are falling. Their time is ending. I'm not going down with that ship."

Sarina nodded slowly, studying him. "So it's about survival for you. For me, it's about power." Her eyes glinted in the dim light. "Power to protect my people, yes. But also power for its own sake. Because I've lived without it for too long, watching others decide our fate."

"And that's why we're here," Aldric concluded. "Not because we believe in his cause, but because he offers what we both want."

"Does that make us hypocrites?" Sarina asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer—and didn't particularly care.

"It makes us practical," Aldric replied. "The world isn't black and white, Sarina. It never was. Those who pretend otherwise are either fools or liars."

He moved closer to her, his voice dropping. "The purebloods pretended they were superior because of their blood. Your people claimed moral high ground because of their suffering. In the end, it's all just stories people tell themselves to justify what they want."

"And what do you want, Aldric?" Sarina asked, not backing away from his approach.

"The same thing you do," he said without hesitation. "Never to be at anyone's mercy again. Never to be powerless. Never to beg."

A moment passed between them, an unspoken understanding crystalizing in the air.

"Did you feel it?" Sarina asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper as she gestured to her marked arm. "When he branded us. That rush. That... connection."

Aldric's expression darkened. "Yes. It was... intoxicating. And terrifying."

"We've sold ourselves to him," she stated flatly. "Let's not pretend otherwise. Whatever ideals we had, whatever causes we fought for—they're secondary now. He owns us."

"A fair price," Aldric shrugged. "For what we gain in return."

Sarina's laugh was bitter. "Is it? Look at Malfoy and the others. They thought they were partners in his vision. Now they're scrambling just to survive. That could be us tomorrow."

"Then we make ourselves invaluable," Aldric said simply. "We succeed where they failed."

"And if we can't?"

"Then we die," he said bluntly. "But we would have died anyway, wouldn't we? Your rebellion was losing ground. My patrons were losing interest. We were both running out of time."

Sarina turned away from him, moving toward the tall windows that overlooked the darkened grounds. "You know what's truly ironic? After all their sneering and superiority, the purebloods are right where we've always been—serving at someone else's pleasure, hoping not to be discarded."

"Fitting, isn't it?" Aldric joined her at the window. "To see them taste what we've lived with our entire lives."

"It shouldn't feel this good," Sarina admitted, "watching them squirm. But it does."

"Of course it does," Aldric said. "They've stepped on us for centuries. Why shouldn't we enjoy their fall?"

Sarina turned to face him directly. "Can we trust each other, Aldric? Not as friends—I don't think that's possible with our history. But as allies in this new... arrangement?"

Aldric considered her question carefully. "Trust is a luxury neither of us can afford. But we can be useful to each other. Our goals align for now. That's better than trust."

"Honesty, then," Sarina countered. "If nothing else, let's be honest about where we stand."

"Fair enough," Aldric nodded. "I'll start. I don't care about blood purity or werewolf rights or any of it. I care about survival and power. That's it."

"And I," Sarina responded, "will use whatever means necessary to secure a future for my people. If that means serving him, so be it. If that means working with you, I'll do that too."

"Even though I've killed your kind?"

"Even though I've killed yours," she countered evenly.

They regarded each other with new understanding. Not friendship, not trust, but something equally valuable—clarity.

"We should prepare," Aldric said finally, gesturing to the map. "Our first mission for our new master awaits."

Sarina nodded, but paused before turning away. "One last thing, Aldric. When this is all over—if we survive—what then?"

"Then?" Aldric's face was expressionless. "Then we see who's learned the better lessons from our lord. Because make no mistake, Sarina—we'd need everything if we want to survive."

"At least we understand each other," she said with a cold smile.

"Perfectly," he agreed.

Outside, thunder rolled across the night sky, a fitting backdrop to their honest yet unlikely conversation.

"There's something else we haven't addressed," Sarina said suddenly, her voice cutting through the silence. "The purebloods aren't the only ones who'll hate us for this alliance."

Aldric's brow furrowed. "You mean your followers. The werewolves."

"And yours," she countered. "The hunters, the families who paid you to kill my kind. They'll see this as betrayal."

"Let them," Aldric shrugged, but there was a new tension in his shoulders. "They were always just clients."

"Were they?" Sarina stepped closer, her eyes searching his face. "No emotional attachments at all? No one who trusted you to protect them from the monsters in the dark?"

Aldric's jaw tightened. "There was a family—the Clarkes. Three children. The youngest girl was bitten during a full moon. I couldn't save her, but I tracked down the werewolf responsible."

"And killed him," Sarina finished for him.

"Yes." Aldric met her gaze without flinching. "And that family looked at me like I was their savior. They named their next child after me."

Sarina was silent for a moment. "How will you face them now? Standing alongside the very creatures they fear?"

"I won't," Aldric said simply. "That life is over. And yours? What about the werewolves who followed you, believing you were fighting for their freedom, not serving a new master?"

Sarina's expression hardened. "Many will follow me still. They trust me."

"Trust," Aldric scoffed. "A dangerous thing to give someone like us."

"Like us?" Sarina raised an eyebrow.

"People who understand that sometimes you have to sacrifice principles for results," he clarified. "The werewolves who follow you blindly—they believe in the cause. We believe in survival."

"Some will understand," Sarina insisted. "The ones who've suffered most know that pretty ideals don't keep you warm or fed. They'll follow power, just as we do."

"And the rest?"

A shadow passed over Sarina's face. "The rest will either fall in line or..." She didn't finish the thought.

"Or become obstacles," Aldric completed for her. "Strange, isn't it? How quickly we adopt his thinking."

"Is it his thinking, or was it always ours?" Sarina asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe that's why we're here. Not because we changed, but because he saw what was already in us."

Aldric considered this, his expression thoughtful. "Perhaps. Or perhaps we're just what happens when people are pushed too far. When society leaves no legitimate path to power."

"Does it matter?" Sarina asked. "The result is the same."

"I suppose not," Aldric conceded. "But I wonder—if things had been different, if the world had been kinder to people like us—would we still be standing here?"

"Pointless speculation," Sarina dismissed, but something in her eyes suggested the question had struck a nerve. "We deal with the world as it is, not as it could have been."

"True enough," Aldric agreed. "Though I admit, I'm curious about one thing."

"What's that?"

"If he succeeds—if we help him reshape the world—what do you think it will look like for your kind? Do you truly believe werewolves will fare better under his rule?"

Sarina's laugh was bitter. "No. But they won't fare worse than they do now. And in the chaos of change, there are always opportunities for those positioned to seize them."

"The longer game it is," Aldric noted. "That's what you're playing for, eh?"

"Aren't you?" Sarina challenged.

Aldric smiled thinly. "Of course. I didn't survive this long by being shortsighted."

"And that's why we need to be careful around each other," Sarina said, her voice hardening. "Because we're both thinking three steps ahead, both looking for advantages."

"Both willing to step over anyone in our way," Aldric added.

"Including each other," Sarina said pointedly.

"Especially each other," Aldric agreed with a grim smile. "But for now, our interests align."

"For now," Sarina echoed, her eyes never leaving his face.

A moment of silence stretched between them.

"There's one more thing I'm curious about," Aldric said finally. "The Mark. When it burned into your skin—did you feel something change inside you? Something beyond the pain and the rush?"

Sarina's hand unconsciously moved to her forearm, her fingers tracing the outline of the mark through her sleeve. "Yes," she admitted reluctantly. "It was like... like a door opening in my mind. A connection I didn't ask for but can't seem to close."

"I felt it too," Aldric said quietly. "His presence. His... expectations."

"Does it frighten you?" Sarina asked, studying his face.

"Yes," Aldric said simply. "You?"

"Yes," Sarina echoed. "But it also feels... inevitable. As if all roads would have led here eventually."

"Fate?" Aldric raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Consequence," Sarina corrected. "Every choice we made narrowed our path until only this one remained."

The candles in the room flickered as a chill wind swept through, but neither Aldric nor Sarina shivered. They had both endured far colder realities than this.

"Our past enmity," Aldric said slowly, "it has to be buried deeper than we've managed tonight. If he senses division, weakness—"

"He'll exploit it," Sarina finished. "Use it to discard us. He cannot have division in his ranks."

"More than he already does," Aldric agreed grimly. "So we present a united front. Support each other. Whatever our private thoughts."

"Agreed," Sarina nodded. "In public, we are loyal servants with a shared vision."

"And in private?" Aldric asked.

Sarina's smile was cold. "In private, we are what we've always been—survivors who know better than to fully trust anyone."

"A workable arrangement," Aldric said, extending his hand.

Sarina looked at it for a moment before taking it in a firm grip. "Until it isn't."

Their hands fell away, and both turned back to the map on the table. The glowing points seemed to pulse more urgently now, as if sensing their resolve.

"We should prepare," Aldric said finally. "The others will be expecting our orders."

"Yes," Sarina agreed. "The time for talk is over."

With the Dark Mark burning on their arms and their lord's orders clear, they had work to do. The time for action—for proving their worth—had begun. And though neither said it aloud, both knew that this strange alliance forged in ambition and necessity would be tested soon enough. The question wasn't whether they would face challenges, but which of them would emerge stronger when they did.

As they moved toward the door, Sarina paused, looking back at the room where they had been marked, where their fates had been sealed. "Whatever happens," she said quietly, "at least we chose this path. The purebloods followed blindly, believing in their superiority. We walked in with our eyes open."

"Cold comfort," Aldric remarked, "if we end up just as dead."

"Perhaps," Sarina conceded. "But I'd rather die having chosen my fate than having it chosen for me."

Aldric nodded slowly. "On that, at least, we can agree."

-Break-

The early morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the empty classroom on the third floor. Harry had called for this impromptu meeting, sending messages to both James and Sirius early on. When he'd arrived with Narcissa and Bellatrix in tow, the two Gryffindors had already been waiting.

James sat on top of one of the desks, his legs dangling while his fingers drummed an irregular pattern on the wooden surface. His eyes still held the same hard edge they'd carried since the previous night's encounter. Beside him, Sirius leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest and his expression unusually somber. Both looked up when they saw them enter, neither surprised at the presence of the two Slytherin girls.

"Bella, Cissy," Sirius nodded in greeting, getting nods in return as they got closer.

"So," Harry began, coming to a stop in front of them. "I'm guessing you all know why we're here."

"You told them about what happened last night," James said flatly. It wasn't a question.

Harry nodded, exchanging a quick glance with Narcissa and Bellatrix. "I told them everything."

"Everything?" Sirius raised an eyebrow. "How much is everything exactly?"

"About the confrontation in the corridor. About that curse Snape tried to use on you," Harry replied, his voice hardening at the mention of the Slytherin. "Sectumsempra, eh? We all know what that spell does now. He wasn't just trying to hurt you—he was trying to kill you."

James's jaw tightened. "Yeah, I figured that much when I saw what it did to the wall."

Bellatrix let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Typical. Should have known that coward would resort to something like this. The question now is what we're going to do about it," she interjected, her dark eyes gleaming with an intensity that made even Sirius shift uncomfortably.

"Do?" James echoed. "What exactly are you suggesting, Bellatrix?"

Harry stepped forward. "We need to make sure Snape doesn't get the chance to try something like this again. Not with you, not with anyone."

"We're not killing him, if that's what you're suggesting," Sirius said firmly, pushing off from the wall. "That's not who we are. We had this discussion yesterday."

"No matter how justified it might feel," James added quietly. "We're not stooping to his level."

Harry ran his hand through his hair, sighing. "I'm not saying we kill him. But he needs to go away for good."

"What are you suggesting then?" James asked.

"Azkaban," Harry said simply.

The word hung in the air like a shroud of darkness. James and Sirius exchanged startled looks.

"Azkaban?" James repeated. "That's... that's not just detention in the dungeons, Harry. That's..."

"Exactly what he deserves," Harry finished. "He tried to murder you in cold blood, James. With a spell of his own creation, no less. That's not just breaking school rules—that's a crime. A serious one."

"He's right," Bellatrix said, arms folded across her chest. "A student, using that kind of magic, attempting to take a life? If it were anyone else, he'd already be rotting in a cell."

James ran a hand through his already messy hair. "Azkaban," he murmured, testing the word. "It's extreme, but..."

"But justified," Narcissa spoke up for the first time. All eyes turned to her. She stood straight, her posture perfect as always, her blonde hair neatly pinned back. "And easily achievable."

"What do you mean?" James asked.

Narcissa's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. "We can use the purebloods on the Wizengamot in this case. Snape attempted to murder the sole heir of a pureblood house—one with a permanent seat on the Wizengamot." Her voice was cool and practical. "After so many heirs were killed recently in the rising conflicts, it wouldn't take much to get him sentenced. In fact, I'd wager it would take barely an hour, maybe even less."

Sirius frowned deeply. "So we're using our pureblood privilege to get rid of a half-blood? How does that make us any better than those supremacist arseholes?"

"It's politics, Sirius," Narcissa replied evenly. "I understand where you're coming from, truly I do. But it's the easiest way to get this done."

"And the right way?" Sirius countered. "The moment we start using our influence to control justice, we become no better than the people we despise."

"Not if the person in question deserves it," Bellatrix said sharply. "Snape does. You know he does."

James sighed, running his fingers through his hair again. "She's right. As much as I hate to admit it, the system is what it is. And for once, maybe we can use it for something good."

Now that surprised Harry, and he exchanged glances with Bellatrix and Narcissa. Yet, he could sense something there. Something that was holding James back.

"But?" Harry prompted, sensing James's hesitation.

James looked up, his hazel eyes troubled. "But I don't want my name anywhere near this."

Bellatrix scoffed. "Are you serious? He tried to kill you!"

"I know that," James snapped. "That's not what I meant."

"Then what?" Bellatrix challenged.

James glanced away, his expression conflicted. "I just... I don't want my name associated with that bastard in any way."

This confused them all. Even Harry, who had been expecting something along these lines, furrowed his brow.

"That doesn't make any sense," Bellatrix said. "Elaborate, Potter."

James hesitated, clearly reluctant. After a long moment, he sighed deeply. "Look, I know Lily and I don't see eye to eye anymore. Especially after everything that happened. But I don't want to hurt her even more by being the one to send her former friend to Azkaban." He looked down at his hands. "She already hates my guts. I don't want to give her more reason to."

Sirius and Harry fell silent, understanding washing over their features. Narcissa's expression softened slightly, though she maintained her practical demeanor.

Bellatrix, however, let out a sharp, mocking laugh that echoed off the classroom walls.

"Are you kidding me?" she said, her voice laced with derision. "Snape tries to slice you open, and you're more worried about what a silly girl like Evans would think of you? Merlin's beard, Potter, grow a spine!"

"Bella—" Narcissa started, but Bellatrix waved her off.

"No, he needs to hear this." She fixed James with an intense stare. "Listen to me, Potter. That girl has been holding you back for years. You've been pining after her, changing yourself, trying to be worthy in her eyes. And what has it gotten you? Nothing but scorn and dismissal."

James winced, but Bellatrix continued relentlessly.

"After years, you finally told her to fuck off, and I honestly thought you'd grown a pair. But now, this is making me reconsider," she scoffed. "If she can't see that her precious Snivellus is nothing but a hateful, bigoted, would-be murderer who deserves to rot six feet under, let alone in Azkaban, and you feel she'd blame you for sending his pathetic arse off to freeze in that hellhole, then she's not worth your consideration. You deserve better than to compromise your safety—your life—for someone who doesn't even have the critical thinking skills to recognize right and wrong, much less be a proper judge of character."

Her words hung in the air, brutally honest and sharp enough to cut. No one spoke, the silence profound and heavy. James was left staring at his hands as he sat hunched over on the desk, his face covered with shadows. His fingers curled into fists, his jaw clenching.

Sirius shifted uncomfortably before clearing his throat. "Look, mate, I know Bella isn't exactly... tactful, but she's not wrong."

James sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "It's not just about Evans. It's about everything. About who I used to be, who I am now. I don't know where the line is anymore. If I push this, if I take this all the way, I feel like I'm going to be the person she always thought I was."

"That's ridiculous," Sirius said firmly. "You were a prat when we were younger, sure, but you were never cruel. And you certainly weren't the kind of person who would use dark magic on someone in a fit of rage. You were never him."

Narcissa crossed her arms, observing James keenly. "And yet, you hesitate, despite knowing the truth. That makes you a fool, Potter."

James exhaled through his nose but said nothing. The room remained thick with tension, the intensity of Bellatrix's words pressing down on them all. There was no sound in the classroom apart from their breathing until a new voice broke it.

"She's right, you know."

James' eyes widened first as they all whirled around to see none other than Lily Evans standing just inside the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest, and her expression unreadable. Only Harry seemed unsurprised by her appearance, his face carefully neutral as the redhead approached.

"Evans!" Sirius exclaimed. "How long have you been—"

"Long enough," Lily cut him off, her green eyes never leaving James as she came to a stop directly in front of him. James had straightened up, his lips pressed into a thin line, clearly caught off guard.

"I saw everything that happened last night," Lily said quietly, causing a ripple of shock through the room.

"Wait, what?" James blinked, trying to process her words.

"I was there last night," Lily revealed, holding James' gaze.

"You were?" James managed, his voice slightly hoarse.

Lily nodded. "I was heading back from the library. I heard voices and..." She trailed off, and then squared her shoulders. "I heard everything you said to each other, and then I saw what he tried to do to you. That curse. I saw the damage it did to the wall."

A heavy silence followed as the meaning of her words settled over them. James swallowed hard, his throat dry.

She looked around at all of them, her expression hardening. "I don't know who that person is anymore, but he's not my friend. He hasn't been for a long time, and I was too stubborn to see it." Her voice grew stronger, angrier even. "I've been blind, defending someone who didn't deserve it, someone whose path was already chosen. And last night proved just how far he's fallen."

James opened his mouth, but no words came out. He wasn't sure what to say, wasn't sure he trusted his own voice in that moment.

Lily turned back to him, her emerald eyes blazing. "To use that kind of magic, to try to fatally harm someone over wounded pride? That's not someone I know. That's not someone I want to know."

James stared at her, momentarily speechless. Sirius and Narcissa exchanged a look, while Bellatrix merely smirked, as if pleased by the revelation.

"If you're going to do this—if you're going to make him pay for what he tried to do—then I'll testify," Lily stated firmly. "I was a witness. I saw everything. And I won't let him get away with attempted murder, no matter who he used to be to me."

James looked utterly shocked. "Evans, you don't have to—"

"Yes, I do," she interrupted. "This isn't about you and me, or our past disagreements. This is about right and wrong. And for once, Potter, I'm seeing things clearly."

James let out a breath, his shoulders sagging slightly. He searched her face for hesitation, for doubt, but found none. Just unwavering certainty. He realized then that this wasn't just about Snape anymore. It was about all the choices they had made, the paths they had taken.

Lily turned to go, taking several steps toward the door before pausing. Looking over her shoulder at James, her expression softened just slightly.

"And for what it's worth, maybe I've been wrong about more than just Severus. Maybe there are depths to people that I've been too stubborn to see." Without waiting for a response, she continued toward the door.

At the threshold, she hesitated one final time. "Oh, and Potter? Next time you decide to defend someone's honor, make sure they actually need defending. I can fight my own battles."

With that, she was gone, the door closing quietly behind her.

The silence she left in her wake was deafening. James sat frozen, staring at the space she had occupied, his expression a complex mixture of shock, confusion, and something that might have been hope. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel the need to chase after her. Because, for once, she had come to him.

Sirius was the first to recover. "Well," he said slowly. "I didn't see that coming."

"I did," Harry murmured, almost to himself. When the others looked at him questioningly, he simply shrugged.

"So," Bellatrix drawled after a moment, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. "Azkaban it is, then?"

James took a deep breath, his eyes refocusing as he looked around at the group. "Yeah," he said, his voice steadier now. "Azkaban it is. Snape made his choice. Now he can live with the consequences."

"And Evans?" Sirius asked quietly.

James's expression grew determined. "She made her choice too. And for once, I think we might actually be on the same side."

TBC.

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