Previously on Ragnarok…

"The Black family has had Parselmouths in the past, you know? Maybe you could check up on it."

Harry frowned. It seemed that others knew more about his family than he himself did. It was very… humbling and disappointing at the same time.

"I suppose." He glanced at her, "So, are you coming into the forest? It's getting late."

"Why? Are you afraid of being alone with the big bad Slytherin girl?" Daphne teased.

Harry rolled his eyes.


"What do you think I should do, Padfoot?"

"It's your decision, Harry. I will wholeheartedly support whatever you decide."

"What would you do?"

Sirius frowned. "I admit I wouldn't have trusted the Zabini's. They are too mercurial when it comes to supporting anyone in Britain. Then again, they cannot afford to be anything else."

"What do you mean?"

Sirius paused for a moment. "The Zabini family is a coalition, with its branches deep into mercenary activities. They prize information and power over everything-a fact that is reinforced by the fact that even Dark Lords tend to avoid dealing with them. An arrangement with them could help you greatly, and if not, make sure that you come out neutral through all of this. You don't want them as friends, but you do not certainly want them as enemies."

"You sound like they are worse than Voldemort."

Sirius smiled mirthlessly. "The Dark Lord is a singular entity. With his fall, the entire Death eater movement came to an end in less than a week. The Zabini family is like an ancient tree, it's roots deeply entrenched inside powerful organizations and families. To cut a tree is one thing, to burn down the entire forest is another. It's almost ironic that they remain neutral in most cases."

"You sound like they are criminals, but yet out of the reach of the law."

Sirius laughed. "The law is a funny thing, Harry. With time you will understand that there is an incestuous relationship between business and politics. The Zabini's are too deep into the biggest businesses of the magical world to be disturbed by legal organizations."

Harry frowned. "I am not sure if I should go for it. I am not ready for it."

Sirius laughed. "No one ever is, Harry. No one ever is."


In an abandoned classroom, Hogwarts.

"Do you think Potter will arrive?"

Theodore Nott considered the person sitting in front of him. Derek Mulciber was a rather blunt individual, even if he was a seventh year. The House of Mulciber had been a rather vocal supporter of the Dark Lord, and thus, for the heir of the family to even consider attending Harry Potter's meeting, it said something.

"Hold your breath, Derek. Potter is a Gryffindor. He must be on his way."

"Why are you here in the first hand, Nott? We all know that you will follow your father's footsteps like everyone else." Augustin Flint asked.

"My father understands that I have my own mind, and thus, can make my own thoughts. I am a Pureblood, Flint, and this is a meeting held by the leader of the Dark Alliance, who is also the Lord of the most influential Dark family in the Wizengamot." Nott refuted back with a stern voice. Outside the classroom their ages and their classes mattered, but within such meetings, only power and influence did the job. And Theodore Nott had both.

"Surely you are not considering joining Potter's side?" Flint argued.

Theodore gave him a cold, intimidating look—the one he had reserved for people who meant less than him. "While it is potentially intriguing, listening to you sharing advice on what your peers should do, it is not that interesting since I am capable of forming my own opinion. My politics do not mix with the Dark Lord, nor do they clash with them. The Dark Lord supported the Pureblood propaganda, and yet, many pureblood families went extinct because of his regime."

"They were traitors." Augustin snarled.

"Really? On what basis?" Nott challenged. "Blood? Tradition? Faith? Money?"

"Support." The pale boy defended. "They were against the dark Lord."

"And the dark lord is the epitome of Purebloods?"

"Undeniably."

"Why?" Theodore asked simply.

"He- He is the heir of Slytherin."

"And you know that, how?"

"He is a Parselmouth." Augustin returned coldly.

"So is Potter." Theodore returned simply. "Besides, weren't you one of the vocal ones who claimed that Potter was the one petrifying students?"

"but- but- that's because Potter's a Black. The Black's had had Parselmouths in the past. He isn't a Slytherin. He is a-"

"Black." Nott returned in a no-nonsense tone. "And unless your father forgot to teach you wizarding genealogy, Slytherin wasn't a ruling House. The House of Grimm however, was one of them. House Black was one of the founders of the Wizengamot."

"I smell betrayal in your words, Theodore." Flint remarked.

"Only because I can think for myself. I can understand that you are here, in hope to acquire potential information about Potter and his motives, but some of us here have arrived to actively pay attention to Potter's propaganda. So, kindly take my advice and shut up."

"Interesting choice of words, Nott."

Theodore turned towards the door as Rosaline Selwyn entered the room. The seventh year girl was one of the best duellists Hogwarts had ever seen, and had been an active participant in the international duelling circuits. It was almost a pity that Hogwarts refused to acknowledge such talent in school, and preferred theoretical and normal practice over active duelling.

"Selwyn. I certainly did not… It's good to see you.".

"Charmed." The blonde girl walked into the room, and took a seat. "Is the speaker arriving any time soon?"

"I suppose he is fashionably late." Astoria Greengrass muttered with a scowl,"—or perhaps he is busy feeling up my sister."

"I for one, certainly did not expect Greengrass to latch herself to Potter. I mean, he is a bloody half-blood of all things."

Theodore rolled his eyes. Flint's mind was too warped to even consider, that after all the cake and watermelon- blood, money and fame didn't matter. Not when you had that kind of power at your fingertips. After seeing the show in the common rom, he had been forced to revaluate his notions about Potter. Removing the tainted glasses that Malfoy had given him, sprouting expletives about Potter for the last four years, Theodore had to admit that he knew very less about the Potter scion. Potter had defeated a mountain-troll in the first year, and if the rumours were right, Salazar Slytherin's basilisk in the second year. His acquaintance and ability with the Patronus was no secret, and the previous year, Potter had outflown the bloody Horntail, fought against the grindilows and defeated the other champions at the final task. There was only so much that could be achieved by luck, and Potter had long outscored that amount. Theodore wanted to know how it was, that Potter did the things he did, and if he was indeed as powerful as he demonstrated at the common room, why on earth had he pretended to be so… average all these years.

He felt the magics in the room flutter gently. Perhaps Potter would finally consider dispelling off the disillusionment charm and reveal himself, he thought, smirking inwardly.

Barely had the thought flitted through his mind, that Daphne Greengrass walked into the room, and soon enough, the space just behind her simmered for a moment as Harry Potter appeared. Theodore smirked.

"I'm sorry, everyone. I was held back by Professor Flitwick." Daphne exclaimed, as she darted into the room.

"I was waiting for her to arrive." Potter answered absently. Not a lie, Theodore considered. Just a half-truth.

Very Slytherin, Potter.

Harry Potter walked up to the makeshift discussion table that the others had transfigured in the area from the benches, and took his place. "I am sure everyone here is wondering-"

"Cut the crap, Potter." Flint sneered. "Just get to the point and prove my expectations right. Then we can all return to our dorm rooms."

Silence.

Every single eye turned to Potter, judging his reaction. Said person sat silently at his chair, his genial expression slowly changing into something… else.

"Very well," he replied with a touch of coldness in his voice. Something stirred in the air around him. "The new House of Black stands for itself, for the sanctity of magic. It holds no respect," - his eyes glanced towards Flint- "or patience, for people who would rather allow bigotry to engulf this world. I do not support Albus Dumbledore" - every single person held his breath at that statement- "nor do I support the self-styled Lord Voldemort. I do not care if you are a Pureblood, half-blood, muggleborn, squib, creature or anything else, but-" he paused, "I care if you have magical blood or not. I stand for the House of Black and for all of those who would stand alongside me. Too much blood has been shed in the wars, and you know what? When it is shed, the blood that flows down is magical and it is red."

"Well said, Lord Black." The heiress of Selwyn commented slowly.

Daphne snaked her palm into Harry's own supportively.

"What happens to those who do not agree to the new perspective of the Blacks?" Alfred Gibbon, who was sitting on one end, questioned him.

Harry Potter faced the boy, and replied, "If you do not agree to my views, you are free to walk away right now."

"What? Just like that?" Flint asked, surprised by his answer.

"Yes," came the clear reply.

"And you are not going to establish the Interim Leader's power over us?" Flint asked, not yet sure if what he was hearing was correct.

"No." Harry Potter stood up, as Theodore Nott observed with deep interest. Potter strode up to Flint, who succumbed to the irrepressible urge to stand up as well- "I consider you as a fellow magical, capable of your own thought and decisions. You are free to walk away and join whichever alliance you wish. However, if in the future, you even try to hinder my path, I don't care how powerful you or your Dark Lord Voldemort might be, we will come to blows."

For the first time since a long time, Theodore Nott smiled.


Sometime later…

"That was awesome, Harry." Daphne cheered, kissing his cheek as she entwined her palm with his, as they walked out of the makeshift conference room. Everyone else had left, and now the only thing that was left was for them to let him know, through an official letter, mentioning whether they would leave the Alliance, or renew their support.

"If you say so. I was kind of, scared inwardly, what with it being my first meeting and everything. Sirius, like the traitor he is, left me alone to decide what I should say."

"Well, you did hold yourself quite well." Daphne agreed.

"I don't know." Harry returned. "I had kind of, prepared for the meeting, but the moment Flint raised his question, all preparation ran out of the window. I just improvised what I could." He confessed.

Daphne kissed his cheek. "You did great."

"Lord Black."

The couple spun back instantly, as the person standing just behind them came into focus. Standing behind them, in a rather casual posture, was Theodore Nott.

"Mister Nott." Harry remarked simply.

"Theodore, please." The raven-haired boy strode up to them as he faced Harry. "It was an interesting meeting, Lord Black. I look forward to future meetings between us."

"Thank you. Please call me Harry." Harry said genially. "Does that indicate your support, Mister—Theodore?"

Theodore smiled. "I am afraid that is up to my father, though I promise to give you a definite answer to it soon enough."

"Fair enough." Harry agreed.

"It has been quite some time since a speech interested me, Harry. Take it from someone who has been to Wizengamot sessions since five years of age." Nott glanced at Daphne momentarily. "I can understand why Daphne took a liking for you. She is a good judge of character."

Harry nodded imperceptively.

"I will see you later, Harry Potter." With that statement, Theodore nodded gracefully, before turning and walking away.


"Interesting guy," Harry observed, as the other boy walked away, in his own unassuming gait.

"Yes," Daphne agreed. "Nott is… different. It's a good thing he seems to be intrigued with our perspective. I suppose he and his father will have words soon."

"Isn't his father a Death eater?" Harry asked.

"So?"

"Nothing, it's just that I was wondering if his father would even consider, allowing his son to invest his efforts in our alliance…"

Daphne smiled. "Just as a very wise Gryffindor once told me, there are many turns in the Slytherin way. Nott's father may be a Death eater, but he allows his son to hold his own judgement. Besides, it has been an old habit for old families to place bets on both sides in advent of a war."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"Why do you think my father did not raise any concerns to my dating you?" Daphne questioned. "Think sharp, Potter. Despite our… differences, he understands that there are no sureties in a war. The best chance for the Greengrass heritage to survive is if it has players on both sides of the war."

Realization dawned on him. "That was why you asked me out for a date."

Daphne smiled hesitantly. "Yes. I knew that it was a good way of being on your side. The Black lordship however, changed everything."

"So if you chose to come for a date with me, and it complies with your father's interests, then…." He shook off her arm as he looked at her, face to face.

Daphne smirked. "You are finally picking up, my dear."

"Then that means… that all of that rebelling against your family in public…"

"This is Slytherin, Harry Potter. Wheels within wheels. Just as you said, many turns in the Slytherin way. However, for all my calculations, there was one thing I didn't see coming."

"And what's that?"

"You." She stepped ahead and kissed him full on the lips. "I fell in love with you. I do not know, but all this time with you… it… it just happened."

"How do I know if this isn't just another ploy you are using?" Harry countered, feeling a little tensed inwardly.

"You can't." Daphne replied defiantly. "However, if I asked you to take a leap of faith, and believe that I do love you, would you do it?"

"I'm not sure." Harry answered honestly.

"You do not see the world as I do, Harry. When two titans fight, the grasses on the ground are the ones who suffer. You, Dumbledore, the Dark Lord, you are Gods, titans commanding magical power that ordinary people can only dream of. Winning a war, takes a lot; but losing it, takes everything. It has taken a decade of effort for the magical families to regrow and now another war threatens the peace of the magical world. I understand that my behaviour seems manipulative to you, but could you blame me? I was only doing what was best for my family."

"What about Astoria? Is she going to side with the Dark Lord?" Harry asked finally.

Daphne frowned. "As I said, the Black Lordship changed everything. In the last war, there were only two sides- Dumbledore, or the Dark Lord. Now, there is a third," she looked at him in the eye — "You."

"I am no Dumbledore." Harry refuted.

"No, you are Harry Potter. A middle path. An option for people who believe in the magical blood, who do not want to kill their own kin, but at the same time, hold true for their own traditions. Theodore has recognized your potential, and that is why he defended you in the meeting, as I know you did while being disillusioned. He isn't the only one, and neither the last one to do so."

Harry considered her words. There was no ambiguity in them, only honest truth, or at least he couldn't detect any. Then again, she was a Slytherin, and she would always have an angle, no matter benevolent or not. He supposed that if he were to look forward to having a future with her, he would have to repress his paranoia.

"I think I… understand. I suppose no one does anything because it is the correct thing to do." Harry answered finally, a little subdued and angry over the revelation.

"Tell me, Mister Harry Potter. Do you?" Daphne countered.

"Of course, I do-I went after Quirrel to prevent him in first year, and then I went to the Chamber the next year."

"Indeed, you did. But ask yourself this- did you go to fight Quirrel because you wanted to protect the Stone, or because you knew that if he succeeded, then the Dark Lord would return and possibly kill you?"

Harry had no answer.

"You went after the basilisk in second year. Was it because you wanted to save the school? Or was there a part of you that feared that you would have to leave Hogwarts and return to your muggle relatives if the school closed?"

Harry looked at her in shock.

"We all act out of rational self-interest. It is called self-preservation, Potter. There is nothing wrong with it. Appreciate it well."

Harry could not think what to say.

"Are we done, or do you have any more questions and reservations against me? I assure you I have all the time in the world."

"Just one. The initial manipulation makes sense. The supporting me through my Lordship and the Black Alliance thing does too. But doesn't this… love put a wrench in your plans?"

"Believe me, Harry Potter. I ask myself this question every night." Daphne put her arms around his neck, and Harry let her as he closed onto her. "—but I have no regrets."

Their lips closed in, into a kiss.


Professor Watson drew a silent breath, as she turned back and walked away, her eyes closed as the image of the younger Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass kissing pervaded in her mind. All those years she had tried to convince herself that Harry wasn't the one for her. So many reasons, and she had grown out all of them. Sometimes it was that Harry considered her like a sister, that Harry wasn't interested in her, that Ginny deserved him more than her, that Harry loved Daphne, that Harry was on the other side of the political faction, that…

Countless reasons, and yet none of them had stood the wrath of time. By a strange twist of fate, she was now, back in the past, watching her old self make the same mistakes that she had done earlier, and she was still doing nothing. Would the future have turned out the way it did if she had made the right choice when it initially mattered, instead of clinging to her flaw of following authority figures blindly?

Should I talk to…. me… about it?

She chortled mirthlessly. Here she was, under a permanent glamour, living a life completely opposite to what she would dream about as a child. She had never seen herself as an educator- she never had the patience to deal with people who couldn't keep up with her thought processes. It was almost a miracle that Ron and Harry hadn't been driven to nuts by the way she all but forced them to follow the schedules she prepared for them. Then again, it was Harry who didn't mind. Ron just went on with the flow.

Time and time again she wondered what it was that had initially made her fall for the youngest Weasley boy. Was it because she knew that Harry Potter was off-limits? Or was it because other than Harry and Ron, she was a small shrivelled adult, the Gryffindor bookworm with no friends? Or did she think that in Harry's absence, Ron was the only person she could try to live with, since he was the only other boy she knew well?

Maybe it was one of them. Or maybe, it was a mixture of all. It honestly didn't matter. She hadn't chosen Harry at the Triwizard, and had lost his true friendship. She had given up on him in fifth year, and Daphne had ensnared him away. At least the girl loved him truly, and didn't ever lose faith in him, unlike her own self, who had chosen Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix instead of siding with her best friend. After Voldemort's death, she had seen the Ministry conspiring against him, but she had put faith on Albus Dumbledore and his sense of justice. And look where it all got her…

Please Hermione… please… you know the truth. You know they will kill him… please…

She did not know whether to laugh or cry. And now, she was back to the past, watching her past self on the verge of making the same mistakes… and herself…. An educator, hiding behind glamour, and trying to prevent Albus Dumbledore from making the mistakes that caused the death of Harry Potter-

Don't you see… don't you see Hermione? It's Harry. It's my Harry…

Her lips quivered for a moment.

-And the advent of Ragnarok.

It was almost funny. All throughout his life, Harry had been called a Dark Lord. They called him a Dark Lord at school. They called him a Dark Lord when he began to delve in dark magics. They called him a Dark Lord when he defeated Lord Voldemort. It was almost ironic, that Magical Britain called him a Dark Lord while he was the only one who could save them all. After his death, Magical Britain got the Dark Lord they wanted so bad, the one that caused their absolute destruction.


"You want a leave? For what?"

Harry kept his face composed. "Family matters." The boy had come to the Headmaster's office to ask for his permission. After all, the meeting with the Contessa Zabini wouldn't be possible within the walls of Hogwarts. Sirius had downright negated coming with him, leaving Daphne as the only choice. He supposed that having a sexy, Slytherin girlfriend wouldn't be a bad idea when it came to meeting the notorious Zabini Countess.

Dumbledore peered at him. "I am sure I could bring Sirius in, for a discussion. It shouldn't be a problem. There is no reason to take a-"

"I am afraid you misunderstand, Headmaster." Harry answered with a calm tone, "When I meant family matters, I meant family business with other families. Business which, I am sure, you understand, cannot be held at Hogwarts."

"Why are you doing this, Harry? You should be training and spend your time with friends and in studies. Our differences will only help Voldemort."

"Sir, I don't know if you understand this, but my name is Harry Potter. Not the boy-who-lived. Voldemort wasn't the cause of my birth, nor is he the sole reason behind my existence. You cannot simply control my life, professor. It's my life and I have to live it."

"As your guardian, Harry-" Dumbledore began.

"You are not my guardian, professor. Your guardianship ended the moment I took over my Lordships."

"Yes," Dumbledore answered sadly, "-a fact that I think was a mistake back then. I agreed to your emancipation to prevent the Ministry from unwanted aggression against your person; not to allow you create a mess of yourself and your family. First that meeting with the Dark Alliance, and now this…"

"With all due respect Professor, you were never supposed to be my guardian in the first place. My parents wanted the Longbottoms, followed by Sirius Black, to be my guardian, in that order. You went out of your way to seal the wills and decided to put yourself as my guardian, messing up my childhood. Let me see if I can create a bigger mess than that." He ignored the sudden flash of irritation on the old man's face- "However, we digress. This is an official letter, complete with the House seal, asking for leave. Do I have the permission?"

Dumbledore stared at him for a moment. "Of course, Lord Black. You may have the two-day leave for family business."

"Thank you, Professor. Also, might I be able to take my friend and vassal Miss Daphne Greengrass with me for-?"

"I am afraid I-" Dumbledore began.

"-with an official letter of leave from her, as well, submitted to her Head of House."

"Very well." Dumbledore sighed.

"Thank you, Professor." Harry paused for a moment, "—and I am not mixing my House business with our agreed training, Professor. Our differences apart, I will keep my word and fight against Voldemort."

Dumbledore stared silently but did not answer back.

Harry nodded slightly before leaving the office, leaving the Headmaster behind. It was only the moment he was gone, that Dumbledore finally spoke. "You are playing with forces beyond your control, Harry. I will teach you… be ready, Harry Potter."


Harry Potter crossed the gates of Hogwarts, with Daphne walking behind him. The latter had made a big fuss over his robes the previous day, leading him to order some proper robes as suited someone worth his station. According to Daphne, the first impression mattered more than anything, and that he should seem comfortable in his new position and authority. The Zabini heir had provided him with a two-way portkey that would take him to the Zabini estate and return him back to Hogwarts.

"Why isn't Zabini coming with us? I had assumed that he would be present during the meeting." Harry asked.

"Because he is the receiving host. Tradition dictates that he should be present at the receiving point. I know it is a moot point, but well… pureblood protocol." Daphne explained.

"Pfft!"

"Stop doing that. You are a Lord, now act like one." Daphne chastised.

"I never thought that you were the mothering kind."

"Do you want me to hex you?"

Harry grinned.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Now get ready. The portkey should activate any moment."

Harry held out the silver bracelet that Blaise had given him, his face scrunched up as he remembered his past experience with portkeys. He held her tightly around the waist, as Daphne smirked at him, before he counted.

"Three. Two. One."

SWOOOP!