Author: Oh my darlings. I am sorry for this long wait. It's been over a year, and a hell of a year at that too. I got a promotion, lost my job entirely, and have spent the last two-ish months searching for a new job. Well, really the last month and a half. See I lost my job of three years near the beginning of June, and feel deep into my depression. It was bad. I mostly slept, ate when I was hungry, and pretty much the only thing I took care of were my animals. My apartment, and my life became a mess. I stopped doing a lot of things that I loved. But this past month I guess you could say I woke up. I found my life again, and I've gotten a new job that I start on the 29th. I've found my passion for the things I love to do.

So I give you darlings my apologies, and this new chapter. I had a lot of it written already, and it doesn't come very close to 5K words like I've decided that I want my chapters to be, but I've had a recent rash of faves and follows of this story, and they've reminded me that there are people reading it. I had originally stopped writing at 3K, but in the editing process added about another 321 words. Sad I know.

So I give my thanks, my apologies, and my hope that you're all still reading this story.

Because writing does give me hope, and seeing the faves and follows for this story gives me hope as well.

Enjoy.


Ch 8: Searching, a Package and Thoughts

Two weeks. Two extremely long weeks, and they were no closer to finding Harry than before Viktor had received the second letter from his fathers. Unfortunately Hermione, regardless of her own inheritance, had still been skeptical about taking his father's Sight abilities into any sort of consideration. It was more than a little frustrating to the burly quidditch player since he wanted his mate found now.

"I am sure that this spell…" Hermione was speaking and reading one of her numerous books as she wandered into the study room that was adjacent to the shop. Evidently the twins had built it just for Hermione as part of their courting. It had a special door that the two devils had created so that it would open into whatever library, or bookstore, Hermione wanted entrance to, which of course made it the best gift they could have given her.

"Hermyownee. I am finished with books, and spells, and researching! My father said that there were others who would be able to help us to find him. Why have we not sought out these others to help us locate him or his properties?"

Hermione stuttered. "Well. I just…. There aren't….I'm not…." She let out a sigh. "We've been trying to find others who want to help Harry, but it isn't easy to find those who want to actually help him, and not just keep using him. Some of our friends have sort of gone underground in a way, so that they won't be hounded by reporters. We haven't been able to reach them by any of our more normal means, and we've tried several of the less normal ones as well with no success."

Viktor's head thunked down hard on top of the top of the table in front of him. He mumbled under his breath, in a language Hermione didn't understand at all.

"English Viktor. English!" Hermione laid the book she had been using to research on the table Viktor currently had his head on. "I don't know what language you are using, nor can I remember any of the translation spells that I know right now. So please, English!"

"I am simply wondering why a woman as bright as you are has not yet thought of using my mate's owl? Didn't you say in one of your letters that his Hedwig could find anyone?" Viktor stated as he raised his head and one of his eyebrows in a questioning manner.

"We…. well…. we"

"Hedwig hasn't been back since the first care package that we sent right after school ended for the summer."

"We're actually pretty sure that something extremely terrible has happened to her." Those were the voices of the devil duo who were now standing in the doorway that was between the back area of the shop and the study.

"She's normally back within a day of us sending a care package"

"But this time she never came back." The two shut the door they had been standing in and wandered over and sat down on the sofa that was directly behind where Hermione was standing.

"We're pretty sure that his Uncle…."

They shared a look, and seemed to hesitate on sharing their theory. This made Viktor think that whatever their theory was, it was nothing good at all.

"Well we think his giant, fat, lout of an Uncle killed her."

Hermione, who had been straightening up the numerous books that were on the table, froze with her hands still clutching one of the smaller books. She made a noise that Viktor couldn't really describe, but if he was to attempt to he would say it was almost the sound of unbelieving pain. As if she knew she was in pain, could feel the wound, but just didn't want to believe it. At all. She carefully laid down the book, and petted it once before her hands clenched. In anger or in pain, Viktor wasn't quite sure. He did however know, that once she finally directed that pain and rage, whatever or whomever ended up on the other side of it, was in for a world of hurt.

Outside the sky began to darken suddenly, with clouds the color of fresh poured cement and deep, sunless water.

"That would explain quite a lot. It would explain why Harry never sent us any letters, or anything at all to say that he was ok, or at least alive." Hermione took a huge gasp of breath in and held it. "It. I just." She took in another breath and let it out slowly. "I think that if Harry's Uncle really killed Hedwig, his bonded familiar, then Harry would have more than likely… He would have… It would have….He…" Hermione's face crumpled, then she covered her face with her hands, and started to cry with great heaving sobs.

The twins were instantly there surrounding her with their arms, even as the clouds that had suddenly appeared overhead, even though the Weatherman had promised a sunny, cloudless day, burst and released the rain they had held within upon the city of London in great torrents.

Viktor walked to the door to the outside, and stared out at the rain that most of the citizens would be thankful for as it provided a relief from the heat wave. This was taking much longer than he had thought it would. He had already been in England for almost two whole months, and he wasn't really any closer to finding his mate than he had been when he arrived.


"Master Harry sirs!" Came a bright, squeaky voice from somewhere in front of the desk Harry sat at. He had stacked on the desk the informative books that Evangelina and her circle had told him would help him learn more about not only his family, but also about everything he really needed to learn as a Lord of two Ancient and Noble Houses. Things that had been kept from him by those he had, once upon a time, trusted with his very life.

Things like the duties of a Lord, and how to invest. Etiquette and dancing. Finances, duelling, genealogy, and so many other things he should have been learning, but hadn't. Yet the entire time he had been in the Wizarding World everyone had been assuming that he had known it all, and simply chosen to disregard the written and unwritten rules.

Harry leaned around a stack of books that were mostly about his family and the Lordship of the Potter and Black families. He looked upon the little female House Elf who had said his name, or at least what he could get them to call him.

"Yes Meaka?" He said politely.

"Yous has a BIG package in the foyer Master Harry sirs! Heavy too!" When Meaka said big she stretched her arms out as far as she could, and stood on her tiptoes to make herself look a little taller. Harry hid his grin and bit back the chuckles that wanted to erupt as he stared at the House Elf that was futilely trying to show him just how big this package was. What Harry got from it though, was that at most, it was bigger than a normal sized House Elf, which didn't really make it as big as Meaka seemed to think it was.

Harry stood with a stretch, and walked around the desk. "Thank you Meaka. I'll be right down." Meaka snapped her fingers and was gone in an instant. House Elf magic really was an extraordinary thing.

Harry slowly left the study that he had taken for his own, and meandered down to the foyer. He spent the entire time trying to figure out who would have sent him a package. Could it be Blaise? They had spent the last two months since they met sending letters back and forth and getting to know each other. It had been wonderful, and extraordinarily easy.

Harry was, in reality, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was waiting for something to go wrong. Something always went wrong, especially when it seemed as if all was going right for once.

Always.

Harry had practically become accustomed to something going horribly wrong. After all, it wasn't as if he had anything going right when it appeared to be an amazing happening.

When he was eleven he was told that he was a wizard, after being told he was nothing more than a Freak all his life, and then he entered this amazing world. Except, everyone knew his name, knew what happened to him, and expected him to save them from their "big bad," the Dark Lord Voldemort. They also seemed to expect him to be a reincarnation of his father with his mother's eyes.

Harry didn't want to be their "savior" or their "chosen one." He especially didn't want to be their "Boy-Who-Lived." He just wanted to be Harry. Just Harry. Instead he ended up going through several obstacles, gaining a stone that could make one immortal, and killing a Professor. He didn't even get to keep the stone! The only highlight of that year, or so he thought, was the two best friends he had made.

When he was twelve, it was discovered that he was a Parselmouth, which of course caused the entire school to turn against him, except for, well even they had actually. Hermione just for a moment, but Ron had for probably about a day. Ron was always jealous of the fame and money that Harry had. Of course, Harry would have traded it all in a heartbeat for the family that Ron had. Then there was all of that madness with the petrified students, taking on the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, Professor Lockhart who tried to Obliviate both Harry and Ron because they discovered that he was a complete fake and a worse teacher than even Quirrell had been what with his whole "possessed by Voldemort," stuttering and general bad smell.

Year three had seen him blowing up his Aunt Marge into what was basically a human helium balloon, the whole "Escaped Prisoner" who actually turned out to be his Godfather who was falsely accused of having led to the death of Harry's parents, and who had been imprisoned without a trial. Not to mention the whole "werewolf-as-a-teacher" debacle. Although Moony had been the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher they had to teach them. Even if he had tried to eat Ron, Hermione, Snape, Sirius and Harry.

Fourth year.

Terrible. Horrible. Absolutely Insane. Endlessly Endangering.

That was how Harry would describe that year. When he had first heard that you had to be seventeen to enter the Triwizard Tournament, he had been thrilled. Perhaps, he thought, he would even have a normal year for once!

Ha. He should have known to not even think of that idea. "Normal year." Harry hadn't had a normal year since he stopped attending school at a regular muggle school, and instead had gone to Hogwarts. Harry had been entered by a man who was taking Polyjuice to look like a famous, retired auror. Who had then tried to help/murder him. It had been maddening. Not to mention he hadn't been able to even have contact with his newly-discovered Godfather very often because said Godfather was on the run from the Ministry of Magic.

From the Dragons to the Merfolk to the Maze, Cedric's unnecessary death and Voldemort's Rebirth, fourth year was only overshadowed by the past year.

It seemed that every year had progressively gotten worse than the year before, and that was most definitely the truth when it came to this past year. It all started to go bad around the middle of the summer. He and Dudley had been caught in the storm that they had waited for all summer, and they had been cornered by Dementors. Of course Harry had used his Patronus and saved Dudley from being Kissed, but that had resulted in getting a letter stating that he was to have a trial to determine if he had used underage magic for a good reason, or if he should be expelled from Hogwarts and have his wand snapped.

His trial was a farce. It was Fudge being an idiot, and having a trial with a full Wizengamot for the minor crime of underage wizardry before a muggle, even with said muggle being his cousin Dudley. Then Dumbledore had appeared, but not answered any of his questions at all, and disappeared just as quick as he had appeared in the first place. Harry was declared innocent, and he got to spend what was left of the summer with Sirius. That had been the best summer he had experienced since third year when he got to wander around Diagon Alley and got free ice-cream from Mr. Fortescue. Who had also helped him with his History homework.

Then he had returned to Hogwarts and been blamed, avoided, taunted, ignored, and just all around treated horribly. Some of those he thought had been his friends had even turned their backs on him. He had gotten all of those dreams from Voldemort, including the one about Mr. Weasley, and none of that was even the worst that had happened.

No the worst thing that had happened was that ridiculously horrible woman Dolores Umbridge. The pink toad. It almost seemed as if she had it out for him. He didn't like her not one bit. She had tried to shove "ministry approved" idiocy down their throats, and of course they had responded by making the DA, and teaching themselves Defense Against the Dark Arts.

She had caught on to them, and after they were given up due to what's her face, Marina or Marisa or whatever, they were all forced to write lines with Blood Quills. They filled the Great Hall, and the first years had been hurt the most. With Dumbledore gone though, there was no one there to stop her. Except Harry with Hermione's help had actually taken care of her.

Well, they had taken her to the forest and the centaurs and Grawp had actually really taken care of her for them. Harry still wasn't quite sure how Dumbledore had convinced the centaurs to give her back to them.

During his rambling thoughts Harry had made it down to the foyer where there was an enormous box. Well, rather large at least.

"Is already been checked for any nasty nasty things Master Harry. Nothin show up." Meaka told him from behind the box. Harry nodded his head distractedly.

After all, who would send him a gift? He wasn't aware of anyone who would send him things other than a few people. None of them had sent him anything since… Since Sirius had fallen through the veil.

Harry shook off the sadness that thought brought to him. He was sure there had to be some way to get Sirius back. He refused to believe that his Godfather was gone, when the Black family tapestry had yet to show a death date. He simply had to be in some sort of stasis. Perhaps he could somehow be retrieved safely? He would do some research, channel his inner Hermione, and see what he could find out.

Harry refocused his mind on the matter at hand. The box that was sitting in the middle of the foyer and was actually… Harry took a double look. The box actually was bigger than Meaka. Harry chuckled under his breath. Now he understood why she had made it out to be so large. Because in comparison to her the box was huge.

Still quietly laughing, Harry took a closer look at the box itself. It was interesting to say the least, and confusing to say the most. There were no distinctive shop names, or even the name of the sender to be seen on the outside of the box. Harry scrunched up his nose in confusion. Who could have sent him such a gift? Better yet, what was in the box?

Only one way to answer those two questions of course. Harry waved his hand, and the lid of the box popped off, and floated off to the side. On the top of the box were two letters, one in a familiar male handwriting, and one that was not familiar but looked feminine. Harry grabbed the familiar looking one first.

My Darling Mate,

This could be considered a part of my courting gifts to you. I know that you enjoy reading from our various letters, and I wanted to gift you with some of the latest books put out on the market, and some older ones that I know for certain can not be found easily, or at all in many other places, if at any other places.

Some of the older ones have been banned, or can only be found in the oldest of libraries. Many have spells or information no longer taught or used. Some have been made illegal by the Ministry of Magic, for they are considered "Dark" in nature of their ingredients or uses.

I hope you find much joy from them, and I shall endeavor to convince you even more of my love for you, so that we may meet and be one as we are meant to be.

Yours Ever Faithfully,

Blaise

Well. Harry was stunned. This entire box was full of books? New books? And old ones as well? This was a wonderfully thoughtful courting gift! How delightful! Blaise was turning into a brilliant mate, and they hadn't even actually met face to face yet. Well, Blaise didn't really even know who he was, but perhaps that would soon change.

Harry picked up the letter with the unfamiliar feminine writing. It even had a bit of a perfume scent of lilacs, or lavendar perhaps. Something that lead to the continued belief that the writer was a woman.

My future son-in-law,

My son, Blaise, already speaks fondly of you and yet neither of you have met as you are now. He speaks of permanence, which is rather strange for him. You see my son is a Dryad, a tree spirit. He was born in his human form though, and his father died before he could plant a tree for him, so he has not chosen one himself out of fear that his father's fate would be his own.

My husband died when a woodcutter chopped down his tree, three months before my son was to be born. Not being a Dryad myself I could not properly plant a tree to be my son's.

I tell you this, because my son has been searching for a tree. Something he has refused to do for his entire life until now. I am so thankful, that I do not even have the proper words to express my happiness and my gratitude.

I have included a few books that were my late husband's in the box. They are books about Dryads, and they are normally found only in the home of one. Since my son will be in your house soon enough, I believe they will be better off there with you. They will tell you all that you will need to know about Dryads, and some other creatures as well that may yet be of benefit to you in the future.

I look forward to the joining of our houses Lord Potter-Black.

With gratitude,

Lady Isa Zabini

Harry put the letter from Lady Zabini down in his lap, an expression of amazement and befuddlement on his face. How did she know who he was? He had not told anyone he was here, and Blaise didn't even know who he was yet, so how did she?

Her knowledge was a mystery, and one that Harry really wanted the answer to.


If You find any mistakes feel free to point them out. Any mistakes are of course my own.

I am debating moving this to AO3 as well. Because I know that this will get a lot more graphic, and I'm sure there are those who would like to read that part as well, and there are those who don't want to read it at all.

Next Chapter we should see from someone outside of the group you've been intro'd to so far. As for this chapter I hope you all enjoyed slightly sassy/sarcastic (at least in his own thoughts) Harry.

So next chapter shall have a new mate (you've met him, just not in his own chapter. :D ) and someone I love a lot!

Peace out

Jackie-B-123