Harry Potter: The second chance

by Lucian Valerious

After a stray curse during the battle of the DOM upsets the time room and sends Harry and his friends back in time, they find themselves in the company of the Potters and the Marauders in 1975. Stuck in the past, they decide to change the world for the better with the knowledge they have attained from their own world. But will they actually change it for the better?

2. Chapter 2

Back again.

As promised, Here is the next part. Hope you enjoy.

Concerning the pairings: I got a surprising amount of support for maintaining the Harry/Ginny pairing, and unless I get a massive amount of criticism for it, I think it'll stick. For those making the comments they should stay together; I asked the readers to choose for a reason. I had no idea where I wanted to go with the pairings. I thought I might try something original, but if you want a Harry/Ginny Pairing, you'll get one. On the similar note: Hermione/Remus (suggestion of a close friend of mine) and Sirius/Luna (can honestly say I didn't expect that one, but it could be hilarious!) are up in the air. Thoughts?

Warning: Mature content. And not the type that sees people remove clothes and have sex (shoot me for saying that word, assholes).

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Chapter 2

Harry sighed contently as he woke up. He just had the oddest dream of his life. In the middle of his History of Magic OWL exam, he had a vision of Sirius being tortured by Voldemort, and he rushed to help him with Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Luna, with Neville tagging along behind them when he catches up to them, and they try to Floo Grimmauld place and confirm whether Sirius is truly there or not.

He only barely manages to hear from Kreacher that Sirius isn't there, before Umbridge tears him out, confirms she sent the Dementors last July and threatens to Torture him for information.

To make it even more amusing, Hermione intervenes and leads Umbridge to the Centaurs and Grawp instead, and they are rid of the woman almost instantly. Then, they fly on Thestrals to the ministry to steal a Prophecy, and they fight Death Eaters to keep it safe, only to get sent back in time in the confusion and meet his family and the marauders. If he didn't know better, he'd swear he'd taken some of those drugs he'd seen some upper years use, and which Seamus and Dean spoke about in hushed whispers. It was simply too amazing to be real.

He picked up his glasses from his nightstand and put them on. As fun as the dream was, it simply couldn't be real. His parents and family were dead, most of the Marauders were on the run or turned traitor, and he had no blasted prophecy on hand.

He was halfway through his morning routine, however, when he started noticing he wasn't in the Gryffindor dormitory. For one, there were only three beds instead of five, and Seamus and Dean were missing. The room was also a bit bigger than the dorm, and the door to the bathroom was in a different place.

And the crest painted on the floor...

He snuck out of the room. There was only one way to be sure. Indeed, he didn't enter the boy's staircase of Gryffindor tower, like he expected. Instead, he entered an ornate if short hall, with two doors to his right, one in front of him, and a pair of doors to his left that led to a landing. He quietly tiptoed across the hall and snuck a peak inside the room in front of him.

To his astonishment, he saw them laying there, the Marauders. And despite his shock, he struggled not to laugh at their various positions. Sirius lay sprawled on top of a large sofa, he head and half his upper body leaning on the ground as he lay upside-down on top of it, drool escaping from his open mouth as he snored. Peter lay quietly on his side in the fetal position on a conjured mattress under a blanket, actually sucking his thumb in his sleep. His father lay normally, his body straight and his arms calmly at his sides, his head turned away from the door in the bed. And Remus lay on a second conjured mattress as if he was being prepared for a funeral. His head looked up even with closed eyes, and his hands lay on his chest, holding a pendant.

He quietly closed the door and leaned against the wall. It was real. He had really traveled back in time. He really had a chance to spend time with his parents. "Bloody hell." he muttered at his fortune. It was a dream come true for him.

And with that, all the memories of last night returned. The memory of Voldemort inquiring about Horcruxes, and Harry's plan to destroy all those that Voldemort had created. It put a bit of a damper on his mood. Of course, it needed to happen. But talkng about Voldemort was never a good thing for him. He snuck back in, grabbed his shoes, wand, and the parchment he had written his thoughts on. As an afterthought he also slipped the Prophecy into his jacket pocket. Charlus and the others might want to see it, too.

And then of course the bloody wands he wanted to divide among the others. He himself felt Mulciber's seemed to match best with him, aside from his own, so he put that one in his back pocket. Then, figuring he might as well take it all anyway, he also grabbed the map and Invisibility Cloak. Having everything he wanted, he snuck back out, closing the door behind him.

He made his way downstairs. If he was staying here for the foreseeable future, he might as well explore the place properly. He made it out of the hallway and came to the landing. To his surprise it was in very good condition. The corpses from Fleamont and Luna's battle with Walden Macnair and his beasts still lay there, but the damage to the room was undone, even if it still was a bit dirty with blood and innards. He tiptoed his way around them, and made it back to the living room. It was quite cozy, a number of couches all centred around a table with a Wireless on. Behind it stood multiple cabinets with shelves filled with various things, including china, books, and to his surprise numerous vinyl music records. Below it was written on a piece of wood 'James' collection. Do not touch!' in red. Harry chuckled, and wondered how much of that was genuine interest and how much was trying to discern why his mother liked it.

He walked through the next door, and was surprised he walked onto a small patio outside. And he wasn't alone. His grandmother Dorea stood there, a cup with tea in her hand as she stared at the sunrise. He was amazed by the view, as he slowly walked to stand beside her. From here, the sun shone brightly on the rest of the land before them as it illuminated the property. It was a large stretch of grass mostly, with a few poles laying down that once erect would make for ideal quidditch poles. It ended at the edge of a forest that seemed to stretch far enough he couldn't see the end of it on either side from here.

Something swooped quite closely over him, and he ducked. As he looked up, however, he sighed in relief. It was only a Thestral, and it seemed to be headed for that forest.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Dorea said in wonder. "I see why Charlus' grandfather, Harrison, chose this piece of land."

"It's amazing." Harry admitted, before letting out a sigh. "I wish I grew up here. It would be..."

"like home." Dorea finished. "And that's what it will be now. We won't abandon you, Harry."

Harry nodded in thanks, then reached into his pocket. "Is Charlus awake? I need to show you two and Fleamont a few things that could affect our plans for the future."

"Of course." Dorea nodded, though her brows furrowed in concern. "It's early enough James and the others won't rise for quite a while. And it'll take a herd of ten kids ages to wake up properly."

Harry nodded in thanks, and followed her inside back to the living room. "If you have a Pensieve, it would be handy to have on hand as well." he added as an afterthought.

Dorea nodded, as she left the room while he sat back down on the couch, looking his plans over one more time. It was quite simple. Harry and the others would finish their education, while Charlus, Fleamont and Dorea would search for clues as to what the Horcruxes might be and where they are right now. He already had a guess as to one of them, the Diary from his second year. It was simply too advanced and conscious to be anything else, and while he was no expert on magic or claimed to know everything, he felt it was quite a safe guess to think the diary might be one. But as to the others? He had no clue.

Then, after they'd finished their education, the Potters, Marauders, time travellers and anyone they trusted enough would briefly remove themselves from the war so they could focus entirely on hunting down the Horcruxes and destroying them for good. It would also ensure that when they confronted Voldemort, he would die off for good, never to return. Then, he could focus on his dreams and what he truly wanted to do.

His thoughts were interrupted by the adults returning, Euphemia carrying the bowl under one arm.
"Alright, we're here kid." Fleamont said sleepily. "What is it?"

"Well..." he started hesitantly, unsure where to begin. In the end, he decided to tell everything. "Shortly before coming here, I felt my head hurt a lot, and I blacked out. When I woke up, I was in a memory. A memory belonging to Voldemort." he paused, as Charlus and Dorea flinched. Fleamont and Euphemia didn't, but then again they spent most of their time in the United States, so it wasn't hard to guess they didn't fear the name as much of the others did.

"It's better if I show you the memory." he said, before putting his wand to his head like he saw Dumbledore do, and focused on the memory. When he withdrew the wand, he was surprised to see a little ball of light on the tip of his wand. He dipped it into the Pensieve as Euphemia put it on the table, and watched the ball of light be absorbed into it.

"You want to join us?" Charlus asked, as he gestured at the Pensieve. Harry shook his head. Once staring at a disturbingly manipulative Riddle was enough. Charlus nodded in acknowledgement, and he and the others dipped their heads in. When they came back out a few minutes later, there were various expressions on their faces. Euphemia looked quite upset at the implication Riddle had made these Horcurxes, while Fleamont and Dorea looked outraged at the possibility of such dark magic being used. Charlus, on the other hand, actually smirked.

"Thank you for showing us." Euphemia said with a quivering voice, obviously a bit disturbed by what she saw.

"This is brilliant." Charlus said, and his voice grew more excited the more he spoke. "This is exactly what we need. You're right, Harry. This is very important."

"I'm missing something." Fleamont ground out. "Why are you happy about the fact the man literally split his sole in multiple pieces, and has them hidden around the world?"

"Because unlike the rest of the world, we know." Harry answered. "We know how Voldemort makes himself immortal. And that means we can look for a way to destroy them."

Fleamont finally understood what Harry was saying, and let an unsteady smile sneak in. "Yeah. I see what you mean. But it'll take years to find them."

"Harry and his friends needs to finish his education anyway." Dorea said. "I say we let them. And let the rest of you Rascals look up the Horcruxes and what they could be."

Upon hearing that, Fleamont and Charlus grinned like mad men, and high-fived one another in enthusiasm.

"About time." Charlus said so enthusiastically it almost made Harry forget they had only just spoken about one of the darkest forms of magic possible to perform. "We needed a band reunion for a long time."

"We might even break through the surly git's bad temper." Fleamont smirked, and Charlus laughed. Euphemia and Dorea both looked on fondly at the two brother's antics. Harry, however, stared confusedly at them. What were they talking about?

Upon seeing Harry's confused expression, Charlus chuckled. "We'll explain later. The others will want to hear this bit as well. But lets just say this: You have your five friends. James has the Marauders. And Fleamont and I have the Rascals."

"Speaking of Rascals," Dorea said. "I invited the Longbottoms for a late breakfast here yesterday after you guys fell to sleep, to let them meet their son. Is that alright?"

The other four all stared at him, and Harry realised for the first time they saw him as some sort of leader for their group. And he suddenly realised he likely was. Sure, Hermione and Ron had suggestions that could alter it, and the others all had their own ideas. But it was often him that ended up leading them into adventures, like the Department of Mysteries the previous day... or the distant future...

Damn, time travel hurt his brain.

"Yeah... sure," Harry said when he realised he hadn't given an answer. "Just be sure to tell the others, especially Neville. I think it won't go over well to surprise him with his parents suddenly appearing on his doorstep."

"I think that would be wise." Charlus agreed. "I'll get-"

"NO, SIRIUS!" A yell came from upstairs, and a second later a herd of people fled into the room, Peter and Neville locking the doors behind them. Said people consisted of James, Neville, Ron, Peter, and Remus.

"Speak of the devil," Charlus said as he hid the Pensieve under the living room table. "What the hell are you guys running from? Where's your Gryffindor courage?"

"Disappears instantly when Hermione's that angry." Ron answered. "Sirius and Hermione got talking, and Sirius accidentally insulted her hair. And suffice to say" he was interrupted by Sirius running into the room from another doorway, followed closely by Hermione, Ginny and Luna (the former with a wand in hand and a furious expression on her face, the other two holding their sides in laughter at what was happening) as they chased Sirius throughout the house.

"Things went downhill from there." Ron finished.

"Come on, Hermione." Sirius tried. "It would be a hilari-

"If you steal a muggle car and drive in it wearing an invisibility cloak on halloween, I'll neuter you in both forms, Black!" Hermione yelled, her stinging hex missing Sirius by centimetres as he ducked behind a couch.

"But the faces of-" he tried again.

Hermione finally hit him in the face, and Sirius yelped. Hermione managed to hit him three more times before finally relenting, with nearly everyone else laughing in the background.

"Aright enough." Dorea said, restoring order to the room with a smirk. "Get to the table, we're having breakfast in half an hour." she said, before taking Neville aside, likely to inform him about the arrangement. Harry smirked, as he grabbed most of the others.

"Guys, I still got the wands of most of the Death Eaters." he said, holding them out. "I think it's a good idea for all of us to have at least one spare, as a back-up."

The others nodded, and each grabbed one of them. Ron and Ginny grabbed Rudolphus' and Rabastan's respectively, while Luna took a hold of Jugson's as well as keeping Avery's. Hermione stuck with Crabbe's wand, and Harry in the end settled for Mulciber's and Nott's. He noticed that like him, none of the others had changed into different clothes either. Luna had gone to a bit of effort to clean some of the blood off hers, and her sleeve wasn't as heavily torn anymore, but aside from that they all still had the same clothes.

He sat down in the dining room at one of the chairs, joined by Ron on one side and a disheveled Sirius on the other. His cheek was still swollen and red from the stinging hex. The entire household sat around the large round table, Dorea and Neville keeping a section of it clear for the Longbottoms.

They were interrupted from even commenting by a large crash, and everyone looked up. "I'll get them." Dorea said, standing up and heading for the door.

"I swear, that is the last time I use Floo travel." Harry heard a young girl say as soon as the door opened. He peeked inside around Fleamont, and saw two adults and two teenagers, seventh years if Harry had to guess. Both of the latter had certain characteristics of Neville: like him, Neville strongly resembled his father, while he had his mother's eyes, ears and nose.

"What is it, Dorea?" the man asked. He wore elaborate robes Harry had seen once before, a few minutes before his trial at the Ministry. A Head Auror. "Your message seemed urgent."

Dorea merely gestured inside, pointing to the newcomers. The elder Longbottoms raised their eyebrows in surprise, turning to Charlus and the other adults.

"I didn't realise you were hosting a social event, Charlus." the woman said, Neville's grandmother judging by the stuffed vulture on her hat.

"It's part of the reason of why we asked you to come." Charlus explained. "Yesterday evening, we had an intrusion in the manor. When we investigated, we came across these six kids, as well as Death Eaters who had followed them here."

"How'd they get past the wards?" the man asked. "Serephina renewed them herself last month."

"They came here through a very obscure branch of magic," Charlus said. "Time magic, to be precise."

The woman (Augusta, if Harry remembered correctly from last Christmas) frowned. "You mean these children-"

"And the Death Eaters." Fleamont added. "The bastards ruined the foyer and the dining room last night."

"They're from the past?" Augusta asked, sounding skeptical.

"The future." Charlus corrected, before gesturing at Harry and the others in turn. "Hector, Augusta: Meet my grandson, Harry Potter, and his friends Hermione Granger, Ronald and Ginevra Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and last and most definitely not least: Neville Longbottom. Frank and Alice's son."

The Longbottoms all turned to Neville in surprise, who looked at them despite blushing a shade of red worse than Weasley hair, and shaking so much from the nerves Harry almost heard the chair creak. In the end, it was the younger girl with Frank who stepped forward.

"You're our son?" she asked, looking him in the eye. Neville nodded.

"This isn't a prank?" Frank asked, turning to the Marauders. James immediately stood beside Harry and clasped his shoulder.

"No prank," James said, his voice surprisingly serious. "Look, even I got to meet my son. Hell, we're approximately the same age."

"Sounds very odd if one didn't know the context," Remus muttered under his breath.

"It's me, dad." Neville said finally, tears coming into his eyes. After that, he shot up and gave his parents a hug. Frank and Alice both looked startled for a few moments, but recovered quickly and returned it just as strongly.

"What's up, kiddo?" Frank asked after a few moments, ending the hug so he could take a much closer look at his son. "You look like you're seeing us for the first time."

"In a way, he has." Harry answered heavily. The Longbottoms all turned to him in concern, and he in turn looked at Neville for permission. Neville nodded, and Harry continued. "The Longbottoms were attacked in 1981, by the Lestrange brothers, one of their wives, and a fourth Death Eater. Neville and Madam Longbottom weren't home, but Frank and Alice..." Harry paused for a few moments, unsure how to bring this. It wasn't every day you told someone they would be tortured into insanity in the future.

"We died." Frank said, taking his silence in a slightly wrong way. "Didn't we?"

"No." Neville said softly, surprising Harry. He hadn't expected the boy to take the burden upon himself. "Cruciatus curse. So long you went insane. Permanent treatment at St Mungo's. You" Neville's breath hitched for a few moments. "You barely recognise me. You both know I am important to you, but that's it. I never even heard you say my name."

The reactions from the Longbottoms were varied. Alice flung Neville into another strong hug, and Frank grabbed both their shoulders in support. Augusta Longbottom grabbed a handkerchief and dabbed it at her eyes, while the man next to her wore a very grave expression, fidgeting with his hands while looking away from his children.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Alice said with an emotional voice after a few moments, and as she finally let go of Neville he saw tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"Who raised you?" The man standing with Augusta asked.

"Gran did," Neville answered. "You did as well, for a time. But you died before I could remember you. Dragon Pox."

"Told you to stop going to those reserves," Fleamont grumbled under his breath. Charlus swatted him over the head to shut him up.

"Well, we're here now," Frank said resolutely. "And I promise you, Nev: We're not going anywhere this time."

Neville nodded and smiled at his parents.

"As fun as this family reunion is," Charlus interrupted awkwardly. "We still have a slight problem. Neville needs to finish Hogwarts for his OWL year and upwards, and he resembles Frank quite strongly. We might be able to pull off the twin act with Harry due to our natural privacy, but you guys mingle with the public too much to pull that one off."

The Longbottom lord sighed. "You're right. We've made our family too well-known to the public to make that one work. Making his identity a family secret might work, but how would we explain where he's been all these years?"

There was a long silence, as everyone thought over the possibilities. Harry himself, obviously, drew a blank. How would he explain where he'd met Neville? The only place he could think off was where he was taught all he knew, but where would that be? He didn't know of any other wizard of schools in Europe aside from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. Durmstrang didn't seem like the type of school he and Neville would be sent to, and they couldn't speak enough French to pass that off if their life depended on it.

"Harry," Luna whispered. The others all turned to her.

"What is it, Luna?" He asked.

"Neville went with Harry." Luna answered, a bit louder this time so everyone could hear. "It makes sense. Neville and Harry proved to be very powerful in their youth, and were sent to the continent to learn how to control it from various private tutors." She paused. "It would also explain how they met us." She gestured to herself, Hermione, Ron and Ginny. "We were learning from some of the same tutors, stayed in contact, and when we heard Harry and Neville decided to attend Hogwarts we wanted to come too."

That was actually a very well thought-out plan. If he ever slipped up with one of his earlier years he could say it happened on his and Neville's travels, and it wouldn't be hard to make it all a bit more believable, if they could make aliases for Ron, Ginny and Luna. Hermione could pass with her own name, for no one would look for records of a muggleborn with her name suddenly popping up. But the Weasley family was part of the Sacred Twenty-eight, and were too distinctive and well-known. And the Lovegoods, while not as famous, were still a known pure blood family, and her family would ask awkward questions, if nothing else. They would need good aliases.

"That could work." Augusta finally said. "We need to forge some documentation for their travels, but Lord Greengrass and that Fletcher mongrel can take care of those."

"Except for one thing." Neville brought up. "I'm not all that powerful."

"Nev, you managed a partial Patronus," Ron said. "Half the wizarding world can't manage even that. If that doesn't say you're powerful, then I'm Draco Malfoy."

"I didn't manage a full one." Neville persisted. "What good would I be at any of it? You're all much stronger than I'll ever be."

"Come on, Neville." Hermione said. "You're not that bad. I have trouble with it, too. And you were one of the fastest to progress in the DA."

"But-"

"Neville." Harry interrupted. "Why don't we go to Diagon Alley later, and get you your own wand? You said it yourself you're using your father's wand, and it is often said the wand chooses the wizard. It might be you're far more powerful than you know, but you were just being held back by your wand."

The elder Longbottoms shared concerned looks, but Neville looked at Harry hopefully. "Really?"

"It's worth a try. And at the very least you won't have to use that hag's wand." He pointed to the slightly curved wand Neville had won from Bellatrix Lestrange that Neville had in his pocket. Neville nodded and smiled.

"Yeah. It'll be a mantle piece if nothing else. A trophy saying we give as well as we take."

"That's the spirit!" Ron said, clasping Neville at the shoulder and grinning.

"It should have a title, too," Sirius smirked, before raising his arms as if unveiling a large nameplate. "'Wand confiscated by Neville Longbottom, Slayer of the Lestranges'. The kids will love it."

Harry enjoyed the sight, as everyone visibly relaxed after the emotional introduction and how they would handle Neville's presence. Frank, Neville, Ron and the Marauders (except for Remus, who was in discussion with Hermione about some new revelations in Arithmancy that came to pass between now and the future) bantered away. The man, who properly introduced himself as Hector Longbottom, worked out with Charlus where Neville would stay. In the end, they settled that for this summer, Neville and his parents would stay with the Potters so the three could get to know each other better, while every other holiday Neville would stay with his grandparents unless he wanted to stay a weekend over. Hector himself would occasionally come over and help Charlus train Neville and the others, so they could actually claim he'd had special training and education. It was by ten o'clock that the large group of Potters, Longbottoms, and their cohorts travelled to the Leaky Cauldron to get to Gringotts.

With a cough, Harry stumbled out of the Floo at the Leaky Cauldron. "I hate Floo travel." He muttered.

"You aren't the only one," Dorea said, as she helped him up and cleaned him with a quick Scourgify. "Part of me is glad Remus and Peter are teaching James and Sirius about the comforts of muggle travel. It's disconcerting to do things magically, and the service you get on muggle cruise ships..."

"It also takes weeks, while a Portkey gets us there in seconds." Fleamont pointed out.

"Details, details." Dorea dismissed with a wave of her hand. "They often say it's the journey that matters the most, not the destination."

"Whoever said that never traveled by apparition," James said, making his way over to them as everyone else gathered and recovered from Floo travel. "Man, that feels weird."

"You're just jealous you're too young to do it yourself." Fleamont grinned. "Or that you can't make portkeys."

"Yeah, rub it in, uncle," James grumbled. Harry smirked, and bumped his father's shoulder. "Cheer up, James. At Gringotts, we'll finally get proof you and mum got together." The smile that immediately grew on his face told him all he needed to know.

They gathered up quite swiftly after that, and made their way to Gringotts as one big group, the adults looking around at the others. It was still a time of war, after all. Even if it was only a war between a corrupt government and bigoted terrorists, and it wasn't safe to stay out in the open for long. The alley wasn't as busy as it had been in Harry's time, and those that were about were, like Harry's group, quick and suspicious of others.

It wasn't long before they arrived back at the large white bank of Gringotts, which hadn't changed at all apparently (or rather, wouldn't change) from the bank Harry knew from his time. There was still the odd rhyme warning people not to steal from the bank, there were still the heavily armed and armoured Goblin guards, and the tellers still worked in full view of the others.

Charlus led the group to one of them, and cleared his throat. "Honoured Goblin. I wish to speak to our group's Account Managers Ironfeet and Griphook, and hire the services of a Pensieve for this consultation." Charlus said in an demanding yet friendly tone. Harry perked up in surprise at the last name. That was also the name of the goblin that had led him to his trust vault.

"Name?" The Goblin asked in a bored tone, not even looking up from his work.

"Baron Charlus Potter." The man answered. "The Goblins know me as their ally 'Scourge'. I hope that rings a bell."

That it did. Every teller in the room fell silent and looked in their direction, even those already helping other wizards and witches. The teller finally looked up, an expression Harry interpreted as surprise adorning his face.

"Baron Potter." The teller said in surprise, confirming Harry's suspicion. He noted the tone also held a modicum of respect. "And lords Potter and Longbottom. What an unexpected honour."

"Indeed it is," Charlus answered. "There has been an unexpected occurrence we need to discuss with our managers. Would you please be so kind as to have people fetched for them?"

"Of course." The goblin nodded, before turning to two of the clerks standing at the wall behind him. "Steeljaw, Tearfang: Fetch account managers Ironfeet and Griphook. Tell them Baron Potter, Lords Potter and Longbottom, and their associates await them in room nine." The goblins spoken to bowed in response, before running down the corridor at the back of the bank. The teller turned back to the group of wizards in front of him. "You and your associates may take a room at the side" as if on command, a section of the wall disappeared, revealing a corridor Harry had never noticed before. "and wait there, Baron Potter. Ironfeet and Griphook will meet you there shortly."

Charlus nodded, and he led Harry and the others to the newly revealed corridor, which led to a large waiting room, with a large table and numerous chairs surrounding it. It was clearly some sort of conference room the goblins sued for meetings with multiple wizards.

"What was that about?" Hermione asked, as soon as the door closed behind them. "You have a nickname the goblins respect?"

"And the history books mentioned nothing of you being a bloody Baron." Ron said in astonishment. "How the hell did you manage to get that?"

Charlus chuckled, as he beckoned them all to sit down. "I can't tell you the entire story. We have too little time here, and too much other business to handle, so we'll have to wait for it at home, maybe over supper. But back in the day, myself and Sirius' grandfather, Arcturus Black, led a small faction of wizards and witches, loose of the original ministries of magic, that fought extensively against Grindelwald. A faction born, actually, in our friendships in Hogwarts. Much like how James and his Marauders became friends, or you and Harry and the others, Mister Weasley."

"During the war," Hector continued. "one of our missions we stopped a plan of Grindelwald's in the nick of time from destroying a fragile alliance between goblins and wizards, which had suffered extensively due to the most recent goblin war in 1899, and hadn't fully mended since. Every involved member of our faction gained the respect of the goblins after that, and in honour, aside from assuring they all got their Wizengamot seats early once the war was over, they gave each and every one of us a goblin-worthy name."

"As for the Baron title, it was gifted to Charlus and Arcturus for incredible feats of valour and selflessness." Fleamont took over. "The rest of us became Lords, as well as a great sum of galleons as a reward for our dedication to service."

"A reward well-earned, Lord Potter." Harry heard a voice behind him say, and he turned around. A pair of neatly-dressed goblins stood behind him, in front of the doors the group had entered through.

"Account managers Griphook and Ironfeet," Charlus said respectfully. "Thank you for meeting us."

"It is always a pleasure To help your cause, Baron." Griphook answered as he and the other account manager sat in two of the remaining chairs. "Tell me, what can I help you with?"

Charlus grabbed a vial from one of his robes and handed it to Griphook. "It is better if you and the Longbottoms see this memory. You will understand our predicament then."

The goblins nodded and tapped their fingers on the table. Instantly the centre of it deepened, and Harry saw runes appear along the edges of it. He immediately realised it was, in fact, one massive Pensieve. The goblins and four eldest Longbottoms dunked their heads in, observing the memory.

"We prepared the more important memories of the previous night and this morning for them," Charlus explained when Harry saw several others turn to Charlus for an explanation. "We'll need to set up various accounts and trust vaults for each of you, and some of the Goblins might start asking questions when they see new additions to the family tapestries."

Harry and the others all nodded in understanding, and they all patiently waited for the six inside the Pensieve to emerge. They did so after fifteen minutes, each of them looking at Harry and his group with various expressions of interest. The goblins seemed the most intrigued, and they each grabbed a thick folder from their coat pockets.

"I can see you would require some more... Personal attention with this service." Ironfeet said delicately, and Harry recognised him as the first one who spoke. "What can Gringotts provide for you?"

"Financially, a trust vault for each of them will do for now," Hector answered. "The usual rules: a thousand galleon limit, topped off again at the end of every school year. Longbottom, Lovegood, and Granger will receive it from my accounts, Potter and the Weasleys from the Baron's. You know the deal for the other rules." Both Goblins nodded and jutted it down on a piece of parchment at the start of the folder.

"We also would like your aid in obscuring the tracks of Lovegood and the Weasleys from their respective tapestries. It would be a bit hard to explain to strangers how their son has travelled back in time by a few decades."

"Quite." Griphook agreed. "We can do this, but it's for a price."

"I'll pay it," Fleamont said immediately. "I'm forced to travel back to the MACUSA in a few days, so I can't help out much. The least I can do is pay your for helping us obscure the tracks."

Griphook nodded and jutted it down. "Is at all?"

"No," Charlus said. "Though it is rather simple and can be done right now. Especially since Fleamont's paying."

"Bloody Scrooge," Fleamont muttered, this time getting a swat from Dorea for his comment.

"Harry here has never had a proper medical check-up before. I'd like to pay your healers to perform one."

Griphook nodded and left the table. He opened the door, leaned out, and spoke to one of the clerks outside. Harry immediately heard him run off, and Griphook returned to his seat at the table. "A healer is being called for as we speak. He should be here shortly."

Charlus nodded. "That's all I can think of, for the moment. Any of you have anything to add?"

"Have all of the newcomers checked up medically," Augusta said immediately. "If time travel harmed them somehow, it would be wise to have them all cleared instead of just one of them."

"A heritage test for all of them might be in order, too," Hector added. "Some of them need to hide from their families, and we might find them a different family name they're related to."

No one else brought up anything new, and they all settled to wait for the healer to arrive. The Marauders passed the time by asking the newcomers about the various adventures they'd had, and Harry reluctantly let the others tell the tale, occasionally filling in when the others could not. It was nothing to truly be proud of, after all. He'd killed a man, slain an ancient beast, let a mass-murdering rat escape, and watched the resurrection of a dark lord happen. None of them good subjects to talk about.

Hermione, Ron and the others, however, strongly disagreed, and diverted the focus completely elsewhere. They focused on the 'obstacle course' they'd beaten in his first year, they mentioned it had been a basilisk he's slain (something Harry would have conveniently forgotten to mention), they regaled in the fact he'd managed to drive off a hundred Dementors with a single Patronus, something even the adults were very impressed by.

They were about to mention the Triwizard tournament when the door opened and a Goblin in white and green robes entered.

"I am healer Bloodstain." The grumbly goblin mentioned. "You required my presence, wizards?"

"Yes." Charlus mentioned. "Six full medical check-ups for six human teenagers. Three male, three female." Charlus paused, then added reluctantly "The full package: body, mind, soul and magical core."

Bloodstain nodded and beckoned he six forward. Harry and the others immediately did so. Bloodstain grabbed six pieces of Parchment that Ironfeet offered from his folder, and grabbed six ritual knives from his belt.

"Each of you slice your palm, and let seven drops fall onto the parchment. It will list every injury and ailment your body has suffered. An extremely powerful diagnostic charm, if you will, that also registers past wounds. Only myself, you and those that you share your blood with can read the results."

Harry nodded reluctantly, and slit his palm. After dropping the required seven drops of his blood on the parchment, Dorea cast a quick Episkey, and the cut closed up. The blood diluted on the parchment for a few moments, before forming a list. Harry read it through for a few moments, satisfied Bloodstain was, for the moment at least, distracted by Luna.

Name: Harrison (Harry) James Potter
Date of Birth: July 31st, 1980
Place of birth: obscured (Cause: Fidelius Charm)
Father: James Charlus Potter
Mother: Lily Jaina Evans

List of Physical Injuries and Ailments suffered (sorted per day inflicted):
Bad eyesight, apparent since birth on July 31st, 1980 (Cause of Injury: Genetical, later remedied by glasses)
Curse wound, inflicted on October 31st, 1981 (Cause of Injury: Killing Curse deflection by Sacrificial-powered shield cast by Lily Jaina Potter Née Evans. After effects: Host of sixth Horcrux of Thomas Marvolo Riddle Junior.)
Minor common cold, contracted on November 1st, 1981 (Cause of Ailment: Left outside at 10 degrees Celcius, remedied by (possibly accidentally) delayed warming charm cast by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.)
Broken left arm, inflicted on February 15th, 1986 (Cause of Injury: Attack suffered by Dudley Dursley, healed improperly)
Sprained left Wrist, inflicted on March 9th, 1987 (Cause of Injury: Lifting off weight (crate of Alcoholic beverages, ten kilos) wrist could not bear, healed improperly)
Horcrux's instinctive attempt at complete control, inflicted on June 30th, 1992 (Cause of Injury: Extremely close proximity of Wraith of Thomas Marvolo Riddle Junior, overcome by Sacrificial-powered shield cast by Lily Jaina Potter Née Evans)
Broken lower right Arm, later Vanishing of bones lower right arm, inflicted on December 1st, 1992 (Cause of Injury: Cursed Bludger and Vanishing spell cast by Gilderoy Lockhart respectively, remedied by Skele-grow bone-regenerating potion)
Bite wound and poisoning of lower right arm, inflicted on May 29th, 1993 (Cause of Injury: bitten by Basilisk upon its death, remedied by freshly applied Phoenix tears moments later. After effects: Scarred wound, Basilisk Venom and Phoenix tears coursing through blood veins, both too diluted to affect body.)
Cut on upper left arm, inflicted on November 24th, 1994 (Cause of Injury: grazed by spike of Hungarian Horntail, remedied by Witch healing charms, scarred.)
Acromantula bite, Cut on lower left arm, and Cruciatus curse exposure, all inflicted on June 24th, 1995 (Cause of Injuries: bitten by Acromantula, cut in arm by Peter Pettigrew, and cursed by Thomas Marvolo Riddle Junior respectively. Remedied by Phoenix Tears and unnamed and uninvented potion that counter-acts nerve-damage respectively, cut has scarred.)
Carved left hand, inflicted on September 2nd, 1995 (Cause of Injury: Unknown Enchanted Quill charmed to use writer's blood for ink. Side effect: Words written with quill are carved into the hand. After effects: words 'I must tell no lies' permanently carved and scarred on back of left hand.)
Extreme Over exhaustion, caused on June 18th, 1996/July 19th, 1975 (?) (Cause of Injury: Unknown, unstable magic ripping Horcrux from body, and absorption of memories of Tom Marvolo Riddle Junior. After effect: Horcrux removal, new memories temporarily blocked to prevent mental over exhaustion, (unexplainable: permanent ability of Parseltongue))

Harry sat down for a moment, staring at the start and ending of the list in shock. A Horcrux?! All of his life, he had been a Horcrux?! All of when he could remember, he had carried a piece of VOLDEMORT in his head?! It was too difficult for him to process for the moment. Charlus and Dorea walked over in concern, but before they could even speak he handed them the results of the test to see which injuries he'd suffered, and which still needed treatment. He looked down at the reflective surface of his Pensieve, staring at his scar. He'd been too dazed with sleep in the morning to notice, but he could now clearly see that his scar had faded a lot since he'd last looked at it.

A Horcrux had been in there.

It did make sense, in a twisted and disturbing sort of way. No one in his family could speak Parseltongue, so it had to come from somewhere. A Horcrux made perfect sense. It also explained why he could sometimes see in Voldemort's mind. If Dumbledore hadn't been so focused on-

When he died, I do not know how, I believe he passed some of his powers on to you, Harry

The words echoed through his mind. The words echoed through Harry's mind. The words Dumbledore told him at the end of his second year, when he just came back to the man after defeating the basilisk and rescuing Ginny.

He knew.

That bastard KNEW!

He knew why he really could speak Parseltongue, or why he had nightmares when he could see into Voldemort's mind. He knew that a part of that wretched man lived inside him. And he never bothered to tell him.

"Harry?"

He broke from his destructive thoughts, looking into the concerned eyes of Dorea Potter. The results of his test in hand. Well, the remains of them. It had been ripped in two in anger.

"I'll make it through the day." He said honestly. And he knew he would. He needed answers on what else had been done to him, and they needed to work out the remainder of the details of their aliases for Ginny, Luna, and Ron. And they still had a lot of work to do here in Gringotts. But after all that? Yeah, he'd loose it. After explaining it all to the others of course. After all, they'd been through with him... Hell, he'd mostly ignored Neville until the fourth year and the man still followed him into the snake's nest. They all deserved to know the full truth.

Concerning him. Concerning Voldemort. And concerning Dumbledore.

"Well, most of you are in fine order." Bloodstain finally said. "Mister Potter has suffered the most injuries by far."

"Oh, really? I never would have guessed." Ron said sarcastically, making some of the others snicker while those not in the know of all he has done in his life look at Harry in concern.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed, shutting him up.

"He has no injuries or ailments that can't be helped, but he is rather bleak, scrawny and underweight. I recommend both nutrient potions and an exercise regime to build his body back up to what are proper specifications for his age."

Harry nodded in agreement. Now that he had a proper look at his father, he knew being scrawny wasn't entirely his fault. His father was just as short, and on the thin side as well. But he was by far the thinnest of them all, and he did look rather peaky most of the time. Starting to exercise would likely do him some good, especially if he looked at his grandfather and granduncle.

"Oh, don't worry," Fleamont said with glee, slightly worrying Harry. "We'll keep him on that. Anything else of note physically?"

"No." Bloodstain growled. "Now, on to the mental part. Mister Potter, please step forward." Harry reluctantly did so. He didn't look forward to this one bit, especially after the revelations of the physical examination. But he knew he might get answers from the Goblin he desperately needed. Especially since Dumbledore rarely deigned to give them.

Immediately, he felt a light pressure in his head as soon as he stared at the goblin. A form of Legillimency, he immediately realised, and he tried to resist it on instinct. After having both Snape and Voldemort read his mind so easily, he hated knowing he wasn't alone in his head. But before he could do anything, the pressure lifted, and the Goblin stared at him with raised eyebrows.

"Very interesting, Mister Potter." The Goblin said with much more interest than when he first arrived. "You have a natural affinity for Occlumency, though your ability has been suppressed unconsciously when someone tried to force that ability to the surface the wrong way quite recently. Aside from that, you're now also a natural Parselmouth. other than that, no mental disorders."

"You sure?" Harry asked, slightly surprised. He wasn't shocked by the fact Snape's 'teaching' of Occlumency could have ruined any talent he had for Occlumency. But aside from that, there was really nothing wrong with him? Nothing?

"Yeah." Ron agreed. "We figured he'd be mental with how often he gets us into trouble."

"No." The Goblin said. "He is indeed reckless, stubborn, and suffers from a habit of heroism. But that isn't too out of the ordinary for wizards. Aside from my aforementioned points, he is mentally in fine order."

"Can his Occlumency be brought to the surface?" Dorea asked. "Because I can speak from experience it is an incredibly handy skill to possess."

"Yes. Simple, proper education of Occlumency should help bring it back to the surface." Bloodstain answered. "Unless any of you have more questions" none spoke a word. "then I would like to have miss Lovegood step forward."

Harry nodded and stepped back to sit down in his chair again. Hell, he had a natural affinity for Occlumency. And Snape had managed to ruin it. Again. Why was he even surprised at this point? The man hated him with a passion for what James and the others had done to him at Hogwarts, and he would take any opportunity to take his hatred out on Harry.

"My, oh my." The Goblin spoke, making Harry look up. The goblin was staring at Luna with amazement, while the girl still wore her usual dreamy expression. "That is the most unusual, and yet the most impregnable form of Occlumency I have ever encountered, Miss Lovegood. A mind so chaotic no outsider could ever find a specific memory in there, much less pull it to the surface. How did you accomplish this?"

"My mother loved to experiment with and create spells," Luna answered. "And she was quite good at it, even creating a new version of the Fidelius. But one day, when I was nine, a spell she was working on backfired spectacularly, and she died. The spell itself still worked, however, as you can see the result here." She pointed at her head. The only sign Harry could see she was still saddened by her mother's death was that there was a single tear falling from her eye. But she still wore her dreamy expression, and still walked with the usual skip in her steps as she made her way back to her own chair. The goblin stared at her for a moment before muttering 'blasted humans' or some such thing and calling Ginny forward.

Harry stared at her for a few moments, feeling a bit of pity for her. He never knew she'd lost her mother, never mind that she had seen it happen in front of her very eyes. It did explain why, like him and Neville, she could see the Thestrals. He made a note to himself to talk to her about it later.

"Well, Miss Weasley, aside from also possessing the skill of a Parselmouth left over from that diary's possession, even if it is also repressed, you are also in fine mental order, if rather mature for your age," Bloodstain announced. "Mister Weasley, step forward."

Ginny stood ramrod straight for a few moments in shock and had to be guided back to her seat by Luna as she sat down. And Harry couldn't blame her. Most wizards, and most of the Weasleys especially, still believed in the superstitions of the Wizarding world. And while Harry had proven himself to be the counter of the one concerning Parselmouths being dark wizards, they considered him the exception, rather than the rule. It was something he knew would be a shock to hear for her.

"Mister Weasley, you are the first one today who is completely in mental order with no unusual skills or powers." Bloodstain completed his medical examination. "Miss Granger, your turn."

It was likely something else Dumbledore had looked over if his guess about the diary is actually correct. If it was, it meant Ginny had briefly been possessed by a Horcrux herself, and that no one had ever properly taken a look at her. How many mistakes had Dumbledore really made here? Were they really mistakes? The more Harry thought about it, the more he realised Dumbledore had done a lot of questionable things.

He had evidence Hagrid was innocent about the Chamber Incidents, or at least put his guilt in question. And yet he never pressed the ministers at the time to clear him entirely and allow him to resume his magical education. He knew about the fact Sirius was innocent, and yet never in those thirteen years chose to reveal it. Or even if he hadn't known and just presumed, he never bothered to read his parents' will to check for sure. Or the Tournament, where he had also done nothing aside from taking pity on him and say he had to complete it. Did he not put security charms on it or something, to ensure it wasn't tempered with? Besides that, he also ignored all the oddities of the Moody imposter, dismissing them as character eccentrics of a mad old friend.

"Aside from the fact your mind's commendably ordered, Miss Granger, you also have no oddities." Bloodstain announced. "It's your turn now, Mister Longbottom."

And not to mention Harry's fifth year. Dumbledore practically ignored Harry all year, not even deigning so much as to look Harry in the eye. Even when the headmaster vouched for Harry at the trial and brought Arabella Fig as a witness, he never even looked at Harry and left without even speaking to him. And when he had the nightmare about Ron's father being attacked, you'd think he might take interest in what was going on. But oh no. Even then, the headmaster did not so much as look at Harry while he interrogated him, preferring to toy with his collection of odd instruments arrayed around the room. And when it became evident Harry needed Occlumency, he had Snape of all people teach him, when he knew the man loathed Potter to a fault. Either the man wanted Harry unprepared and had a masterplan, or he was barmy enough to warrant being suspended from each and every post he holds.

Harry didn't know which one he feared more.

"Well, Mister Longbottom, you are also in good order." Bloodstain finished. "Now, the third part and final part of the examination: soul and magical core. Mister Potter, Miss Weasley, you both deserve a fair warning. Considering your history with you-know-what, your results will be interesting, to say the least."

The five others who took the examination with him stared at him in confusion, Ginny, and Hermione most of all. The others were too far back for Harry to see without turning his head. Harry, however, just nodded. He knew that with what the Horcrux had done to him, there might be a number of surprise reveals when it came to his soul or his magical core.

"I know." He finally said, before stepping forward. "I'll start."

"Never had one of these examinations before, had you boy?" The goblin asked knowingly. When Harry nodded, a smirk the size of the Durmstrang ship appeared on his face, as he searched his pouch and got out six red-black stones the size of Harry's fist, and an equal number of quills. "Oh, this will be interesting. Yes, very interesting."

"Why?" Harry asked with a small amount of trepidation. Harry had learned from his friends that Goblins liked only three things: 1. To have as much control of gold, jewelry and precious metals as they could. 2. To lead a warrior life as much as they could, an explanation for a large amount of goblin wars. Hell, there were at least ten in the last three hundred years, the last one a bare two years before Grindelwald made his bid for power in Europe. It was a miracle there hadn't broken out another one since with all the disorder Voldemort has caused.

And number 2. Led to number 3.: to discomfort and hurt any wizard they didn't respect as much as possible.

"You'll feel soon enough." Bloodstain said, his smirk still ever present. "Simply place your hand on the stone, and grasp it entirely. It is that simple."

Harry nodded and reluctantly grabbed the stone. He immediately dropped it in pain, as the stone instantly heated up in his hand. The red light on the stone pulsates for a few moments before the quill started writing on a piece of Parchment Harry hadn't noticed appear. Harry peaked over to read it, despite still clutching his burning hand. At least it felt that way.

"Bloody hell." He softly cursed, both because of the pain, and because of what he read.

Status of Soul, Magical Core, and Magical Abilities of Harrison (Harry) James Potter:

Soul:
No bond established
Complete soul
Slight taint of dark magic (Suspected origin: unstable Horcrux formerly in the body. Taint slowly cleansing away since removal.)

Magical Core:
Nearing Magical maturity, expecting it to be reached in 13 days.
Previously locked down and drained to 10% of supposed level (Suspected origin: unstable Horcrux formerly in body. Core overcompensating since Horcrux removal, and reaching magical Maturity prematurely due to this.)
Magical power level once maturity's reached: Extremely Powerful*

Magical Abilities:
Natural Strong Affinity for Transfiguration (Enhanced to Powerful level by Genetical affinity, paternal side, previously drained to half of potential by Horcrux, now restored to full potential)
-Animagus potential (Previously blocked by Horcrux, now unblocked)
Natural Strong Affinity for Charms (Enhanced to Very Powerful level by Genetical affinity, Maternal side, previously drained to three quarter of potential by Horcrux, now restored to full potential)
-Strong Affinity for elemental magics Fire and Water (Previously drained to point of no outstanding affinity by Horcrux, now restored to full potential)
Strong Affinity for (Defense against the) Dark Arts (Permanently amplified to Very Powerful level due to Horcrux)
Parseltongue Fluency (Acquired through Horcrux, made permanent and Genetically inherent since, and resists Horcrux removal)
Strong Affinity for Occlumency (Previously drained to point of no outstanding affinity by Horcrux, now restored to full potential)
Above Average affinity for Healing Magic (Previously drained to point of no outstanding affinity by Horcrux, now restored to full potential)
Powerful Affinity for Wandless Magic (Previously drained to point of no outstanding affinity by Horcrux, now restored to full potential)
Powerful Affinity for Nonverbal Magic (Previously blocked by Horcrux, now unblocked)

"Amazing." Harry muttered, looking through the list again, simply because he couldn't believe what he read. Not only wasn't his soul entirely tainted by the Horcrux, but it was receding incredibly fast. And while he didn't know anything about magical maturity (he'd seen it mentioned a few times in the books on magical theory, but it was never fully explained), he had a sense it was a very important thing for his development. And was he really that good in all of the mentioned magical talents? He'd always had trouble performing the spells first time around, and it took him a while to get the hang of things. But he had to admit that when he did get the hang of it, his spells were among the strongest of both his own year group, and sometimes in the one above it as well.

"Harry?" Hermione asked in concern, and he saw the others look over with frowns on their faces as well. He handed his results over again, smirking as he did. "It's good news this time around." He promised. "Let's just say our story about me getting taught on the mainland due to my magical power might actually work out very well."

Hermione nodded as she read it over, subconsciously moving around the room as she did until Dorea and Fleamont stopped her so they could read over her shoulder. Fleamont's mouth actually dropped a bit as he read it.

"By Godric's beard." He said in shock, before turning to Harry. "Early Magical maturity? Affinity for elemental magics? Wandless affinity? How are you not the most powerful wizard of your generation?"

"He's that good?" Hector asked curiously, looking up from Neville's results. From the excited looks on Augusta and Frank's faces, they had to be really good results.

Fleamont merely gave it to the goblin Ironfeet, who lay it flat on the Pensieve upside down. Immediately, it projected the results on the back wall for everyone to read.

"Bloody hell!" Ron yelled, ignoring Hermione's instinctive reprisal about his language.

"Do you realise what this means, Harry?" Remus asked, and Harry had almost forgotten the Marauders had all come along as well, with their silence since the examination had started. "You are as powerful as Dumbledore himself. Hell, you're just as powerful as You-Know-Who. The only ones more powerful than you History has ever witnessed are the Founders, and Merlin, and Morgana le Fay, and people of their caliber."

"What?" Harry asked, astonished. That's impossible. He couldn't be that powerful. That was just... it shouldn't be that he was almost as powerful as the Founders. That should be downright impossible. "I can't be that powerful. I always have trouble performing spells right, it nearly cost me my life to perform a Patronus in front of so many Dementors."

"And yet when you do manage, mate, you have to admit your spells are always the most powerful." Ron countered. "Even Malfoy couldn't deny that. Why do you think he always picked on you every time you showed even the slightest hint of weakness or pestered you about your family and lack of knowledge when you didn't? He was bloody jealous because of how weak he seemed compared to you."

"And you can't deny you're powerful, mate," Neville said. "Come on, you managed a corporeal Patronus, something only one in a thousand people will ever manage. It was strong enough to drive away a hundred Dementors. You really think you're not that powerful?"

"And you're actually near his level, son," Frank said proudly, showing Harry a copy of Neville's results while Bloodstain managed to distract his friends by pointing out the remaining four hadn't done the test yet themselves. Harry whistled appreciatively. While he was still more powerful than Neville, the boy came pretty close on many fronts, and actually one upped him in elemental magics, having a Very Strong affinity for fire, water, and Earth, while Harry's was only Strong. To his pleasant surprise, Neville also had the potential to become an Animagus, and the required strength in Transfiguration to do so.

"Wow," Ron said, grabbing is and Hermione's shoulder. "Look at that. We can all become Animagi. How awesome is that?"

"Really? Charlus asked, and Harry noticed the Marauders practically hang on his lips in poorly disguised interest. Together, he and Harry took glances at the respective results of the others. While none of them came as close in levels of power as Neville did, it did show that they all had their respective talents they excelled at. For example, Luna seemed to possess a natural affinity for Charms along with Hermione, while Ron excelled apparently in Transfiguration and Healing magic. Ginny, lastly, had just as strong an aptitude for DADA as him but didn't excel like him in everyone else along with it.

"We can't reveal the secret results to the Ministry," Charlus said finally. "Bagnold would ask too many questions, and Crouch would have our heads for hiding him as long as we did. We reveal Neville and Harry were sent away for their power levels, but nothing about the details, understand?"

Harry nodded. He knew all too well how the ministry had a history of interfering in matters it had absolutely no say in, and it was likely to be riddled with Death Eater infiltrators. If they caught wind of the details, their heads would be before Voldemort by he end of the week. The others followed his example and agreed with that part.

"I'll hide the results in their respective vaults." Griphook allowed. "Only you would have access to them, and nothing short of Gringotts being destroyed would allow the wizards to get them without our permission."

"Also, we still have inheritance tests to go through," Ironfeet added. "Would you like to take them now, or have you had enough shocks for today?"

"Let's get it all over with," Dorea said immediately. "The sooner we get all this over with, the better. The financial situation might not be up to date, or which houses they are descended off or betrothed into. But it might give us an idea for aliases and cover stories."

Ironfeet nodded, and he grabbed more empty pieces of parchment from his folder (really, how much did that blasted thing carry?), laying it on the table in front of each of them. He also grabbed a number of familiar looking quills from his coat. Quills that immediately made Harry shudder for a few moments.

"These are experimental quills known as Blood Quills," Ironfeet explained to the others. "Not known to the ministry records or the Wizarding world at large because we are still developing them. These are the safer ones."

"Safer ones?" Augusta asked skeptically. "You're not endangering our heirs and their allies, are you?"

"I assure you Madam Longbottom, I will do no such thing," Ironfeet explained to the others. "These quills write with the subject's blood, and that blood will show what inheritance they have access to. As you said earlier, it might show something different from what you read earlier, as you only have the galleons you carry in your pocket, for example. But your descendants will still be the same."

Ironfeet placed a quill and parchment in front of each of them. Harry gripped his reluctantly, while the others started writing immediately, hissing afterward as the words briefly appeared on their skin before fading away. Harry wanted to vomit at it all. These would eventually become the hated black quills Umbridge had him write with, and which had permanently scarred his hand.

But he needed to know. No one had ever told him about his family, or who his ancestors really were, and with the recent revelations about himself, he knew he wanted answers.

With a new determination, he picked up the quill and wrote Harry James Potter at the top, ignoring the stinging the quill gave him in his left hand, right where the scars used to be.

The blood and words immediately into the parchment, only to reappear and form even more words below.

Harrison (Harry) James Potter
Father: James Charlus Potter
Mother: Lily Jaina Evans

Current financial worth:
3 Sickles and 1 Knut (Liquid)
230.528 Galleons (Worth of all items and artefacts carried on body)

Descended directly from the following houses:
Potter, through Father James Charlus Potter
Evans (muggle family), through Mother Lily Jaina Evans
Black, through Paternal Grandmother Dorea Ursula Black
Turner (muggle family), through Maternal Grandfather Alexander Turner
Gryffindor, through marriage of Paternal Ancestors Henry Potter and Irena Gryffindor (approx. 1460)
Slytherin, through marriage of Paternal Ancestors Shezar Slytherin and Cassandra Potter (approx. 1650)
Peverell, through marriage of Paternal Ancestors Hardwin Potter and Iolanthe Peverell (approx. 1790)
Swann (muggle family), through marriage of Maternal Ancestors William Turner and Elizabeth Swann (approx. 1710)
Bay (muggle family), through marriage of Maternal Ancestors Ardeth Bay and Maria Evans (1899)

Related to following houses (last three generations and magical families only):
Blishwick (through the House of Black)
Bulstrode (through the House of Black)
Burke (through the House of Black)
Crabbe (through the House of Black)
Crouch (through the House of Black)
Flint (through the House of Black)
Fortescue (through the House of Black)
Gamp (through the House of Black)
Gaunt (through the House of Peverell)
Hitchens (through the House of Black)
Lestrange (through the House of Black)
Longbottom (through the House of Black)
Macmillan (through the House of Black)
Malfoy (through the House of Black)
Max (through the House of Black)
Meliflua (through the House of Black)
Montgomery (through the House of Potter)
Prewett (through the House of Black)
Rosier (through the House of Black)
Tonks (through the House of Black)
Weasley (through the House of Black)
Yaxley (through the House of Black)

Well, it confirmed the long-standing rumour his family was descended from Godric Gryffindor, though him actually being related to Slytherin was an actual surprise. Maybe there was some truth to him being the heir of Slytherin after all, if he could destroy Voldemort once and for all. He had no idea who some of he other families were, but he knew it wasn't hard to look up. While it was harder for them, Muggles could keep track of their ancestors just as often as wizards, and kept excellent records. The 'Internet' he had recently learned of from Dudley seemed capable of doing just that.

He peaked over to Ron and Hermione's results, who stood next to him on both sides. Ron had actually a little more money in his pockets than Harry did, but he didn't have anything of such extreme value, like Harry's extremely rare and long-lasting invisibility cloak. Aside from that, he was descended from only three families directly (the Weasley family, the Prewett family, and the Blacks as well), but related to dozens more due to the Black family's tendency to breed only with other purebloods.

Hermione, meanwhile, was only related to muggle families, through her mother and father (Emma Beckett and Daniel Granger) there wasn't a trace of magical blood to be found. Interestingly, she was stated to be worth much more than Ron and Harry combined. He wondered how that was possible, and whether she carried some magical artefact they didn't know about.

"Well?" Dorea asked curiously. Harry, once again, handed her the results to look through.

"I'm not actually surprised by this." She said after a few seconds. "The Blacks interbred so often with other pureblood families I'm surprised they haven't bred the magic out of themselves yet. I'm surprised about the Slytherin and Peverell heritage, though. Charlus never said a thing about it."

"It's not something we scream from the rooftops, is it?" Charlus countered, though there was no bite or vehemence in his tone. "Look at how people flock to You-Know-Who's cause because he's the Heir of Slytherin. Do you really think he would react well if another family just popped up filled with other people related to him? A family with goals directly opposite of his own?"

"We'd be hunted down and slaughtered," Fleamont added. "Especially with the Peverell lineage mixed in. If he learned of that, we would be done for."

"I can see that," Euphemia admitted. "But I thought Dorea and I at least deserved to be told, dear husbands of ours." She finished wickedly and amusedly. For their parts, Charlus and Fleamont did look sheepish at that one.

"That part, admittedly, is because we simply forgot to broach it," Charlus admitted with a slight blush. "It never came up, and I didn't think it was significant enough to be told in such a manner."

"Oh, I don't know," Dorea said. "The fact you're related to two of the four founders, two of the most antagonistic ones, no less, is worthy enough of a conversation of its own, don't you agree?"

Harry snickered, as he watched the Potter males be chastised in such a manner, and he heard loud laughter behind him indicating at least the Marauders and Frank thought it hilarious as well. For Harry, it simply provided the much-needed levity his mood needed after the extreme revelations he just got. Besides, seeing the two Potter males, who had seemed so fearsome and terrifying when Harry had first met them and fought aside them last night, was truly something to remember.

"Mate," Ron whispered, as to not break up the comedy show in front of them. "If we're related to Slytherin through you, as well as Gryffindor, wouldn't we technically be able to own Hogwarts?"

"Ron!" Hermione whispered just as silently, a twitch on the corner of her lips showing she found the display just as hilarious, en if she didn't show it. "We aren't going to brag around you're all related to the founders!"

"Come on, Hermione." Ron pleaded. "Think of all the books we could buy for you!"

"You're just thinking of living lazily in the castle for the rest of your life!"

"I do not!"

"Does this happen often?" Sirius asked in obvious interest, a smirk on his face. Harry nodded knowingly.

"All the time. Neville and I used to bet on who quit first, but he stopped when I kept winning."

"You kept cheating and ending it for them." Neville accused.

"As I will now," Harry said. "Or we'll be here forever. Ron!" The redhead and bushy-haired girl both turned. "If you do proclaim yourself related to a founder like that, you'll imitate someone we know very well." He mimicked dragging his hand through his hair and styling it, took on a very arrogant pose, before saying in a very haughty voice. "Wait till my father heads about this!"

Neville lost it at that one, collapsing on the ground holding his sides in laughter and Ginny snickering away. Ron's face whitened in horror when he realised who he'd almost mimicked, and Hermione looked at him with satisfaction at having won this one.

Harry couldn't hold it in any longer, and he doubled over in laughter as well at Ron's expression. This set off the Marauders in turn, with Sirius dragging Luna, Frank, and Alice with him to the ground by accident, and they were all around the table laughing themselves silly. When the Goblins and Longbottoms finally stopped watching the Potters being chastised for hiding their Slytherin and Peverell heritage and the artefacts they inherited because of it, they found themselves at the sight of a dozen laughing teenagers.

"And a merry life to you, too." Hector Longbottom said.

---

Their business at Gringotts was finished up after that, and their alibis were soon established with the help of Gringotts: while the four others all kept their first names, Ron and Ginny would change their Surname to Beckett, the maiden name of Hermione's mother, and proclaim themselves to be raised as secluded half bloods. Thanks to Arthur, they knew enough about the muggle world to pull it off, even if they needed a bit of help from Hermione. They decided to leave as much of their family and odd history in secret, so that if they slipped up once or twice, they could simply claim it was a long time ago. Hermione would simply change her own name to Harry's ancestor Bay. While her own name was common enough that people wouldn't look odd at it in the magical world, she herself would still appear in the magical world again in a little under two decades, and it would be suspicious if she found someone sharing her exact same name and appearance.

Luna, meanwhile, would take on the name of Swann, and claim to be a half blood from overseas. It helped her that her mother was a muggleborn as well, despite her eccentric first name. She still took a few of those sessions of help from Hermione alongside Ron and Ginny, bit that was more to refresh her memory than anything else. She also performed a charm that helped the Weasleys hide their features, which would usually have identified them as members of their family even if they claimed different names: the new version of the Fidelius she'd mentioned earlier, Fidelius Mutatio. In effect, it worked nearly the same as the original Fidelius, but instead of hiding the secret, it permanently altered the person's appearance to those not in on the secret. Luna had kept it simple, and simply tanned their skin a bit so they matched Hermione's, and gave them both auburn hair, with Harry becoming the Secret Keeper since he was the least likely to slip up of the six of them.

They also decided they would all attend Hogwarts in the same year. Ginny and Luna knew enough for DADA from their classes with Lupin and Moody, and would be able to attend their fifth years, while Harry, Neville, a reluctant Ron, and Hermione had no problem repeating their OWL year, especially with how terrible their Defense classes were in retrospect. True, they had Harry's DA, but it hadn't covered the entire year, and Harry didn't know everything. It would be good to have a proper teacher for their OWL year, and splitting the group up for no reason would just be problematic.

They all paid for the services of Griphook and Ironfeet, who promised to have their trust vaults set up under the proper names, and left the bank to do their shopping. Not for their school shopping, however. The list was still a week away from being delivered. No, it was for their own possessions. Aside from what they carried on their backs, the six time travellers owned nothing in this world. No brooms, no books, no bags, nothing. So they were all given a budget of 600 galleons while they shopped a bit for themselves: Augusta, Dorea, Euphemia, Alice, Hermione, Ginny, and Luna went as one group to do the girls' shopping, while everyone else went with the boys to do their stuff. In addition to that, outside of the budget, Hector and Fleamont also bought them one broom each, so they could play in the House Teams at Hogwarts if they wanted to. And to Ron and Neville's astonishment, they could have the pick of the lot. Harry himself chose a Thunderbird-class broom, the predecessor of his old Firebolt.

And so they went down the alley, picking up posters for Ron, Herbology equipment for Neville, a number of Defense books and trinkets for Harry, and a pet for all of them. Neville easily found his way back to Trevor the toad, and Ron picked a large owl that liked him on sight, even landing on his friend's shoulders. Harry, however, took the longest to pick a pet. While he knew it was essential for him to have an owl for mail, he still had a spot for Hedwig in his heart. After Hagrid, she had been his first friend in the magical world and had often been the only one he could talk to back at the Dursleys.

"Hoot!"

Harry looked up in shock. He knew that hoot anywhere. Sure enough, through the large open window above the store's door, his trusty owl flew in, instantly landing on his shoulder and affectionately nibbling at his ear.

"Hedwig!" He said happily. "How did you get here? I thought you were back at Hogwarts when it all happened!"

In response, Hedwig shook her wings a bit, and Harry saw a bit of sand fly out of her feathers. And judging by the way it floated in the air afterward before disappearing, Magical sand.

"You followed us to the ministry?" He realised. "And when you were inside and tried to reach us, you were caught in the sand, too?! Why?"

Hedwig hooted in an affirmative tone... and immediately clipped him over the head with her wing. Harry laughed, at least until she tried to do so again.

"I know, I know." He said as he ducked underneath. "It was reckless and stupid. But I thought Sirius was in danger."

She merely tilted her head as if Yeah, and that warrants risking your own life?

"Don't look at me like that, you know how much I care for him." Harry admonished, though the smile never left his face. "It's good to have you back, Hedwig."

Hedwig hooted happily, before taking a more comfortable position in the crook of his neck and sitting down. Harry smirked, as he bought the usual items needed for owning an owl (a cage, food, treats and the like) and left the shop behind. He headed to the others, who were waiting by Ollivander's while Neville got his own wand.

"There you are, mate!" Ron called. "We were almos- Is that Hedwig?!"

"Yep." Harry answered, and the snowy owl immediately flew over and gave Ron an affectionate nib on the ear. "She followed us to the ministry that night, and got caught in that sand just like us."

"A very trusty owl." Charlus complimented. "I think I like her."

"I don't," Fleamont said, edging a bit away from Hedwig. "Never liked owls since you set Mousehound on me. Bloody terrifying those things are."

Hedwig glared, and took off from Ron's shoulder, hovering over Fleamont. The Potter Potioneer looked upwards suspiciously... and was rewarded with owl droppings landing on his glasses and face. Hedwig swooped down, clipped him once again over the back of his head, upsetting his hair and getting most of it into the droppings as well, before moving to land on Harry's shoulder protectively. Charlus laughed outright at the sight of his younger brother covered in owl droppings as he stood frozen.

Laughter behind them indicated the Longbottoms and the Marauders had come back out themselves and had seen the sight too. "It fits you, uncle." James said. "Really fits the Potter look."

"The only thing missing is the nest and eggs." Sirius snickered. "And you'd attract owls from across the world."

Fleamont glared at them as he cleaned his glasses. "I think I'll join up with the girls." He said, marching away. "They won't make fun of my predicament." With that, he stalked over to Flourish and Blott's, where he saw Hermione's bushy hair enter.

"What's up with him?" Neville asked curiously.

"Ignore him." Charlus advised. "When we were younger, I locked him in our Owlery sprayed in a love potion brewed especially for owls during our owl's mating season. He's never liked owls since."

"Really?" Harry asked in shock. His grandfather was downright intimidating. True, he and Harry shared many facial features (messy Raven hair and round glasses among them), but he seemed more like a guy who took on ten Death Eaters on his own for a lunch break, with his intimidating robes and tall, imposing stature. Not one to... Prank.

"What?" Charlus asked. "You didn't really think James got his pranking blood from his mother, did you?"

Then again, the man had a point. Dorea was far too kind to pull the kind of pranks his father did, so James had to get it from his father.

The next part, however, Harry didn't like at all. Especially with how jovially Sirius was skipping towards the clothing shops, Madam Malkin's, and Twilfitt and Tatting's.

"Oh, no." He muttered as he and Ron looked on in horror, while Neville only looked slightly nervous.

"Oh, yes." Charlus insisted. "You are a Potter. I will not have a potential heir of my house dressed in hand-me-down clothes several sizes too big for him. You need formal clothes, Hogwarts uniforms, clothes of your own choice, not to mention dress robes..." Harry's eyes widened in horror, as Charlus continued to list the various articles of clothing Harry needed to buy. Did they really have to do all this? They would be here hours for him alone, not to mention for Neville and Ron.

"You better do it, kid." Charlus frowned, seeing his look. "Or so help me, I'll body-bind you, have Madam Malkin take your measurements, and let Sirius pick your clothes for you."

Faced with that kind of threat and blackmail, especially with how gleeful Sirius looked at the idea, Harry let out a resigned sigh and followed the others into the store. Fortunately, aside from his present company and Madam Malkin, the store was empty. The lady immediately stepped forward, greeting them enthusiastically.

"Baron Potter! A surprise to see you here again! And Lord Longbottom, too! I thought you permanently moved to my friends at Twillfitt and Tatting's!"

"No, we haven't," Charlus reassured her in a pleasant tone. "While Tatting's is indeed more suited for the formal wear I'm forced to wear at the endless parties and Wizengamot meetings, your store will always have the lead in comfortable clothing."

"Such a charmer. If I didn't know better and see the wedding ring, I'd think you were flirting with me." Malkin giggled, surprising Harry. While she was indeed a bit younger, she was also behaving a lot less professional than he expected from the woman he'd met in 1991.

"-weren't for the fact I met Dorea years ago." Charlus continued, and Harry realised they were still talking. "But I'm not here for myself today. Hector and I are here for these three boys." Hector gave them a light shove to step forward. "Our sons Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom, and their friend Ronald Beckett."

"Just Ron, please," Ron muttered with a slight blush. Harry couldn't blame him. While Harry wasn't attracted to her or distracted by it, she was pretty enough in this time to give Fleur Delacour a run for her money, and she was a Veela.

"Oh!" Madam Malkin said in surprise. "I didn't know the two of you had more than one son."

"Our respective family secrets, I'm afraid," Hector explained. "We discovered at a very young age that Neville and Harry were very powerful, magically speaking, and we sent them to the Continent for special tutoring."

"And you brought them back home because of the situation with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Malkin finished for them. "I understand. Well, it is a great pleasure to meet you, boys. What do you need?"

"Everything, basically." Charlus answered for them. "Their boat was attacked before they could make it to shore, and they were forced to portkey here while leaving all of their stuff behind."

"Oh dear." She said, although there was a gleam in her eyes. "So they'll need an entirely new wardrobe?"

"Yep." Charlus said, popping the P with satisfaction as he watched Harry squirm under that gaze. Malkin immediately lit up.

"Oh, splendid! Come with me, boy. We've got to take measurements, and..."

Harry didn't hear the rest of it, as suddenly the world turned black, and a searing pain hit his forehead again, around where his scar would be. Instead of falling unconscious, however, he saw his surroundings change. Instead, he was in a large hall. It was occupied mostly by pillars with serpents encircling them from the bottom to the top. In the centre back of the hall stood a massive statue of a bearded man with a sword in one hand and a wand in the other, standing elegantly as he gazed down.

Harry recognised the Chamber of Secrets instantly when he saw it.

But this time, it was Tom Riddle standing there, as the same sixteen year old prefect Harry had seen him. The man entered through a second entrance Harry never noticed before: a stone walkway, seemingly keeping itself still and suspended in the air, that stretched above him between the pillars below an arched roof at the height of the statue's head. Shortly before reaching the head it branched off around it, with one way heading to a large circular tunnel that likely led to the sewage pipes the basilisk had used. The other branched off again, one ending into the sewers like the other, the second endive in a spiral staircase that headed to the ground floor. Riddle spoke as he walked down the stairs.

"You need to be more careful, Sheesa." Riddle hissed, and Harry realised it was in Parseltongue. To his dismay, the mouth of the statue opened, and the Basilisk, Sheesa, slowly slithered out. "I cannot protect you forever. A dozen students already are petrified in the hallways. If one dies, you will be found, and Dippet and Dumbledore will have you killed for what you are."

"Then I will die having served my purpose." Sheesa hissed back, timing her descent so both her and Riddle arrived at the bottom of the hall at the same time. "But it has been so long since I tasted fresh air. One more time, false master. Once more."

"No." Riddle hissed angrily. "I am your true master. And if you die now, you will not be able to complete the task I have assigned you. I want to rid the school of unworthy mud bloods, and you will help me, Sheesa. But you cannot be is obvious. Be more subtle. More cunning. Like a true Slytherin!" Riddle paused for a few moments. "Like your first master."

The Basilisk paused, as in thought. But then it started hissing in incomprehensible words, and slowly circled Riddle.

"Did you think my master did not know this day would come, Pretender?!" The Basilisk hissed angrily. "That a false heir with only an inkling of his blood would try to claw his way into the deepest recesses of his chambers?!"

"I AM his true Heir!" Riddle hissed angrily, holding his wand out, the small shrunken skull Harry had observed on the bottom of his wand at the graveyard already adorning its grip.

"You are a disgrace!" Sheesa hissed back. "Your connection to my old master is so diluted by Pureblood inbreeding that it is practically nonexistent. Bred out of your line." Sheesa reared up angrily. "And your notions of eradicating all Muggleborns is misguided. A dream of an angry child who has known no love in this world. While it is true my master held no love for Muggleborns, he never wanted them gone. Merely for them to stay away until they knew proper traditions, so they would integrate better into our world." Sheesa leaned forward again, looking Riddle dead in the eye, a second opaque eyelid the only thing stopping her gaze from killing Riddle. "That is why you are not my true master, son of Riddle. You are against everything he stood for."

Riddle flinched in anger at being reminded of his muggle heritage but didn't move as the King of Serpents moved back into the statue.

"Sheesa." Riddle hissed, and the Basilisk turned around.

"Insaniam convertunt!" Riddle shouted, and a grey curse hit the Basilisk. It immediately writhed in pain, although Harry could see no obvious wound.

"I predicted long before I sought you out that you might not agree with my goals." Riddle hissed, as the Snake writhed in obvious agony. "Which is why I looked up various curses that work very well against the mind. Curses so obscure the Ministry hasn't yet bothered to outlaw them. This is a fun one, Insaniam Convertunt." Riddle twirled his wand, as the snake finally calmed. "It drives the victim insane. Not to the point they lose their minds, however. It merely robs them of their free will and identity. You can still act independently, but you will no longer have any wishes and desires of your own, forever doomed to obey the orders of others. And the only known counter, mens videre receptos, can only be spoken in Parseltongue. So there is no hope you will ever regain your mind, beast." Riddle shook his head in mock dismay, as he walked back up the stairs.

"Such a shame. You were the finest specimen of your kind in known history." He pouted, before making his gaze more serious. "Return to your hibernation inside the statue until I call you again."

Sheesa nodded, and returned to sleep inside her statue, the mouth closing behind her. Riddle smirked, as he walked back up.

Harry couldn't believe his eyes. The snake he'd fought in his second year, the dreadful thing that still gave him nightmares on some occasions, was actually driven insane, forced to do Riddle's bidding. Harry suddenly felt a large dose of pity wash over him, as he saw Riddle make his way through the other entrance. He walked down a long, thin corridor, which ended in a circular door with stone snakes all coming from the right-hand side, edging out to the rest of the door like a blossoming flower.

Riddle commanded the door to open, and another stone snake emerged, which slithered from the top of the section the snakes came from around their heads, in a counter clockwise fashion. Each time this snake passed one of the others, it pulled back, and a thunk sounded like the lock was being undone. As it completed the circle, the door opened. The shed Basilisk lay in front of it, which was likely what had stopped Harry and Ron from finding it in the first place. Riddle made his way back up the tunnel, and into the pipe that led to Myrtle's bathroom.

"Who is there?!" A shrill, tear-soaked voice called out angrily as Riddle neared the bathroom. "If you really followed me here, Olive Hornby, I will show you what a bad-sighted, ugly minx can do, you whore!"

Harry's heart beat faster, as he realised this was likely the moment Myrtle was killed. Indeed, riddle stopped his movements, and turned back, though he didn't move back towards the chamber.

"Sheesa. Petrify the girl, then resume your hibernation." Riddle ordered. It took a while, but Harry seizure up when he saw the massive basilisk move through he narrow tunnel, barely missing him and Riddle.

"What now!?" Myrtle called angrily. "Aren't you don-" she suddenly stopped mid sentence, and there was a soft thump as Myrtle's body fell to the ground. The Basilisk slithered by again a few moments later, and Riddle moved into the bathroom. Myrtle lay there on her side and her hand out as if she was holding the door open when it happened.

"I know you can't hear me in your Petrified state, miss Warren." Riddle said mockingly as he stalked towards her. "But after all he trouble I've gone through, I think you deserve to be told the answer to why this happened."

Riddle reached into his robes, and Harry saw him take out a small, black leather notebook. No, not a notebook, Harry realised to his horror.

A diary.

"I wanted to rid the school of mud bloods like you, Warren." Riddle continued, cutting her palm open with a low-powered cutting curse. He drenched his hand in her blood, and drew a circle and runes around her body, to Harry's confusion. "But you will serve a different purpose, Myrtle. You see, I plan to create something. Something that will tie me to this world forever."

Harry held his breath. Could it be...

"A Horcrux, it is called," Riddle answered.

This is it. This is how Riddle created his first Horcrux. Harry immediately did his best to observe everything as closely as he could. Charlus and the other adults needed to see this.

"Unfortunately, Warren, for a Horcrux to be created someone has to die a cold-blooded death." Riddle continued, finishing the rune scheme that Harry was now dedicating to his memory. "And sadly, you're it."

Then, without a moment of hesitation, Riddle raised his wand and fired a powerful piercing hex at her heart. Instantly a bloody red hole 6 inches in diameter appeared on the left side of her chest, and her body slumped to the ground entirely. Harry closed his eyes. No one deserved to go out like that, without even a chance to defend themselves.

---

Warning: M-rated content might be very disturbing to some. If you can't handle lots of blood and/or have a very vivid imagination, skip this part. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

But the ritual, for what else could Tom have started here, wasn't finished. Instantly, Tom moved to crouch over the corpse, and Harry stared on in puzzlement. What the heck was Riddle doing?

He nearly threw up right then and there when Tom put his hand inside her body, closely followed by the rest of his forearm, and groped around inside her body. No spells to Blood flowed from her body like a steady stream as Tom mangled up her innards, and Harry very nearly closed his eyes in disgust. What kind of man would do something like that? But he kept his eyes open, and forced himself to focus despite his upset stomach and rapidly beating heart. Charlus and the others needed to see how it was done, he justified for himself. They needed to know, if only so they could stop and strictly enforce the prohibition of is kind of ritual.

Said argument was nearly thrown out the window along with the contents of his stomach, when Tom finally removed his bloodied arm, and he had a handful of mangled, torn and shredded organs in his hand, which was nearly too much for him to hold in one hand. Intestines dangled from between his fingers, and a kidney half popped out between Riddle's thumb and index finger. But the most disturbing of all was the heart at the centre of it all.

Harry knew that as soon as he'd have the chance, he'd heave into a garbage bin or something. This was too sickening to watch, even for him, and he tried to over his head away from that sight. Only, like the memory of the rotund professor, he found he couldn't move away at all. He was stuck.

Harry steeled his resolve, and forced himself to focus instead of dazing out in thought. Charlus needs to see this. He kept repeating in his head like a mantra. It was the only thing keeping him going at this point. He needs to see this. He needs to know how to stop a Horcrux being created. He needs to know.

But it turned out there was nothing Riddle wouldn't do, Harry discovered to his ultimate horror. Riddle drew the mess of organs closer and closer to his face, until it was all the way up to his mouth. It was so close Harry thought for a moment he would kiss it, like some absurd goblin ritual. Like, kiss the heart of a muggle-born at that date under a new moon, and voila: the Horcrux was created.

He knew he wasn't as lucky. Instead of kissing, Riddle opened his mouth.

And bit down into the organs. And chewed. And to Harry's horror, swallowed.

Harry finally closed his eyes for an instant, and he felt tears streak down freely from his eyes. Nothing could have prepared him for this sight. Not the horrors committed at the Dursleys, not the challenges he faced at school, not he trials of the tournament and the graveyard. Nothing, absolutely NOTHING could have prepared him for the sight of Voldemort freely and willingly indulging in cannibalism.

The professor from the first memory had been right. It required the ultimate act of evil to split one's soul. But that wasn't simply murder, or any random Death Eater could create a Horcrux. No, this was the ultimate evil. Very few, if any, of Voldemort's Death Eaters would go as far as to commit cannibalism, and none would do so willingly. Certainly not Lucius Malfoy. He was simply an arrogant, pampered prince who follows Voldemort's every whim. He wasn't a savage, heartless monster like Tom.

Harry finally looked again, and saw Tom was almost done eating his handful. He finished chewing up the last intestine, before sending a wide cutting curse at Myrtle's body. Her body was ripped open from lower neck and chest to her waist, and the mess of organs and bones he had made was now clearly visible. For a moment, Harry feared Tom would grab another fistful of organs, and decide to eat those whole as well. He was not disappointed. Tom reached down, with both hands this time, as he gorged upon her body. For the next half hour, Harry was compelled (no forced) to watch as Tom ate most of Myrtle's body. No one came in and interrupted, as Harry had secretly hoped but knew would not happen. It was after midnight, likely even very early morning judging by e lack of sunlight from the window, and very well beyond the time teachers and other prefects would be patrolling.

Finally, the bloody ring of runes around Riddle lit up, and the monster (Harry refused to see him as a human after this) looked up. He sent a final bludgeoner at her body, messing up what remained of her body. Frankly, the only things not... Eaten from, were her limbs and her head. Everything else (her body, her clothes, her innards) was ripped to shreds and eaten from, a spine and broken ribs barely visible. Likely to cover up the involvement of his snake and to blame Aragog, Harry realised. He'd once read Acromantula gorged on their victims like this. It might not explain the petrifications, but after such a sight no one would doubt the involvement of Hagrid's tamed pet Acromantula. No wonder the Ministry immediately expelled Hagrid and hunted his Acromantula on sight.

End of M-rated content.

---

Riddle stepped into he centre of the circle and started chanting. Part of Harry listened to it, so Charlus and the others would know (although Harry was sure they wouldn't want to) what to look for and what books to burn. But the rest of him simply dazed away, trying to cope with what he'd just seen.

There was no limit to what Voldemort would not do to get what he wanted. Part of Harry had already realised at, because no sane man would try to murder a baby. But this really drove the point home. He was a monster. He was cruel, and sadistic, and he had no shred of humanity left in him.

Harry burst into tears again when he realised he'd had a part of the man inside his head for almost all his life.

He focused again when the chanting ended, and a grey human-shaped form with a dark ball of light where the heart would be sprung from Voldemort. He circle immediately split in two, and with his wand captured one of the parts. He slowly oozed it into the diary, and Harry saw it briefly give off a soft glow, before returning to normal again.

The human form returned to reside in Voldemort, and he briefly slumped in his place. He regained his vitality before falling, however, and grasped the diary in both hands. Then, a malevolent smile passed over Voldemort as he took in his first Horcrux. Harry saw him also briefly turn his gaze to a golden ring with an obsidian-coloured diamond-shaped stone on it, a bisected triangle with a circle in the centre edged onto it.

He then spent the next half hour cleaning up the Rune as well as himself, so as to leave no trace of what had happened beyond Myrtle getting attacked by a monster. Then, when neither Voldemort nor Harry could find a trace of blood on the man, the boy ran out.

"Professor Dippet!" The monster screamed in false panic. "Dumbledore! Slughorn! Mortlake! Merrythought! Come quickly! There's another victim!"

From various rooms connected to the corridor various professors emerged, and Harry saw Dumbledore and the rotund professor among them. At the end, the old headmaster from years ago came running down the stairs, and they all followed Riddle to the bathroom.

"Did you realise, Neville, that another horror is going to happen this year?" A new voice said with obvious dismay, and Harry startled. He recognised that voice, but he was sure it wasn't from this time.

"What's that?" Neville asked, and Harry realised he was slowly returning to the clothing store. Malkin was done measuring him and was now busy with Neville.

"We have to take our OWLs a second time!" Ron said with horror, his dismay obvious on his voice. Harry couldn't hold it in any longer. He vomited on the spot, startling everyone and making those standing close to him jump away.

"Whoa!" Sirius said. "Now there's an overreaction if I ever saw one."

"It's in disgust of your ugly face." James returned, causing Remus to roll his eyes, Sirius to look indignant, and Peter to snicker.

"Not that." Harry managed as soon as he'd caught his breath. "A memory from a while ago."

The others looked concerned, but Ron and Neville nodded in understanding, knowing at least some of what Harry had gone through. Harry shared a quick, knowing look with Charlus, and the man's eyes widened in understanding. He knew Harry had just witnessed another of Voldemort's memories.

The rest of their time in Diagon Alley went by quite fast for Harry. To his relief, Ron and Hermione (whose group of ladies had rejoined them by then for their own clothing shopping) helped him pick his own clothes for free time, as he didn't feel up to making his own selection of choices. In the end he went for common jeans, a few shirts of bands from this time he knew weren't that bad (despite Sirius' protest) and a leather jacket for his standard free outfit, as well as a healthy supply of shirts, socks, pants, underwear, sweaters, the whole shebang. Charlus, in turn, helped him choose his formal wear and dress robes, and ensured Ron and Harry didn't humiliate themselves too much. They couldn't get much else as the school lost wasn't in yet, and they didn't know what to get. So in the end, after a quick lunch (which was nonexistent for Harry, since he didn't trust himself to throw up again)

When they got home, Charlus gave them half an hour to stow everything away in their rooms, and Harry and Ron just dumped their stuff on their beds. Ron because he was his lazy, typical self, and Harry because he knew he wasn't up to putting it away properly.

After the half hour had passed, during which Harry ignored the concerned looks from Ron and Neville, they all headed downstairs, where Charlus, Dorea, Fleamont, Euphemia and the marauders were waiting in the living room. Hermione, Ginny and Luna weren't there yet, but judging by the sudden steps Harry heard on the stairs he knew they were on their way. A Pensieve lay on the living room table, so Harry knew it was likely going to be about his... No, Voldemort's memories. That, or they would get to hear more about Charlus and Arcturus' faction. Considering what Harry and the others were going to do, possibly both.

"Where are my parents?" Neville asked, concerned.

"They went home, for now." Charlus answered. "Frank and Alice will come over tomorrow, though. And they'll remain until the end of the holiday, so you can get to know one another. Hector and Augusta will come over often enough themselves that they won't mind."

The door opened behind Harry again, and Hermione, Ginny, and Luna walked into the room as well. In the end, they all say down on the couches, Harry last and sitting between Hermione and Ron for comfort.

"The reason I asked you all to come here," Charlus started. "is to get answers a number of questions you all have. Answers I, Harry, or maybe one of you can provide."

"Like that cloud of dark magic that hung over Harry when he arrived?" Euphemia asked in concern.

"Among others," Charlus confirmed. "Do you want to start, Harry, or shall I?"

Harry fidgeted a bit, as everyone turned to him. He didn't want to talk about this. What he'd learned was too disturbing for anyone to ever hear, much less witness in Pensieve memories. He wanted to do this alone. They didn't deserve to be around him constantly, carry his burdens for him.

Yet, as he looked around, he saw nothing but people concerned for his welfare. Neville and Peter, who looked nervous at what was to come yet determined to help him. Hermione and Remus, the intellectuals of the teenagers that wanted to analyse his problem so they could solve it. Sirius and Ron, who wanted nothing more than to help one of their friends in his direst time of need. Ginny and Luna, the former fierce and just as determined as the others in her desire to help her former crush, the latter eager to help one of her first friends and one of few who truly understood her.

Euphemia and Dorea, both standing strong and ready to support him emotionally should he need it, just as protective of their grandson/nephew as of their own husbands. Fleamont, frowning in agitation, determined to help his family through whatever crisis was looming over him. And Charlus. His grandfather, ready to help him however he was needed, to teach him all he needed to know. To be the grandfather for Harry he couldn't be.

And James. His father, who stood up and gripped his shoulder strongly, to let him know he would always be loved and protected.

"I'll start." He finally said, before getting out the memory of Tom's meeting with the rotund professor and placing it in the Pensieve. "Before we begin, however, you all need to see this memory. You need to know what a Horcrux is."

---

Do not worry, this is not a god-Harry fic. He's merely a bit more powerful, story-wise to compensate for the experience most of the Death Eaters would have on him. Rowling already portrayed underpowered Harry pretty well (or at least a Harry that doesn't use his full potential), while dozens, if not hundreds, of writers here wrote him overpowered. I try to find a middle-line in there, so if I cross that feel free to point it out.

Spoiler in case you didn't read the M-rated section: Yes, what I did for the memory of how Horcruxes are created is very cruel, brutal, sadistic insane... and right up Tom Riddle's alley. Rowling always said murder is the worst thing in the world, and that it splits the soul apart, but I always found this a bit... sketchy, at best. If that was all there was to it, any Death Eater could make a Horcrux with how often they kill. So I figured I needed something more horrifying. Something evil. Something no one but the most insane or tradition-bound people would go to. Cannibalism for a ritual was my answer, and it made sense. Riddle was driven to be immortal and would do anything to achieve it. And it also ensures not everyone could also create a Horcrux. can you really see Lucius Malfoy eat someone's organs? Or Snape, as much as the man redeemed himself in the last book? This is my fan theory as to how they are created and I decided to put it in.

While Soul-bonds are mentioned here, I don't intend to make this one unless I get serious support for this

Next stop: Charlus Potter and Rascal backstory, King's Cross, Arrival feast, and meeting a certain greasy-haired git (Sirius' words paraphrased, not mine). And maybe a bit of the first week and how the school reacts to the presence of Harry and his friends, if I feel up to it.

* = Wizarding measurement from lower level up: Muggle, Squib, Near-Squib, Weak, Below Average, Average, Above Average, Strong, Very Strong, Powerful, Very Powerful, Extremely Powerful, Near-Mage, Mage.