Right Side of Hell

by NeoMare

Albus Dumbledore was sure he had made the right choice sacrificing an innocent child. Too late he understood how terrible that mistake had been... Harry Potter was not what he wanted him to be, he was not what the magical world expected him to be. He was not a replica of James, instead he had inherited more of Lily, far too much, in many people's opinion. Powerful&Intelligent!Harry

14. Realization and Machination

Disclaimer: This story is based on the world of J.K. Rowling, anything you recognize belongs to that wonderful woman.

Beta: Lounge256

A.N.: Hello my dear readers! Sorry for taking so long to update! This chapter was the hardest to write, in the most literal way you can imagine it refused to be written. I knew what I wanted to happen, but I could sit in front of the computer for hours and barely write a sentence. It was really frustrating but it is done now! Also, I know that the communication mirrors were used in canon by James an Sirius, but I am changing that detail.

I also have a beta and I am incredibly happy to give you the quality you deserve! I hope you enjoy it!

---

Albus Dumbledore was having a migraine, and if that wasn't enough, in an unconventional moment of depression, an epiphany left him with a morbid existential crisis. That day had begun with normality; he had met some old acquaintances in the morning and during the evening he had a meeting with the Order. From the moment he arrived at the house a deep foreboding had settled within him, making him feel quite wary and paranoid.

An annoyed Nymphadora opened the door. Her hair was a flaming red that betrayed her real ire. Her expression did not change when he smiled at her; if possible, she got even angrier and walked from the door with an annoyed huff. Confused by this reaction, he followed the young woman to the kitchen, where it seemed that all the drama took place. Sirius was wearing an uncharacteristically grave expression, Remus was beside him looking angry, Minerva was wearing a pronounced scowl, and Kingsley was beside her looking serious. On the other side, Molly was red in the face, Arthur and Bill were trying to appease her, and Severus was behind them, sneering at everyone. Nymphadora walked to her cousin's side, glaring at the other half of the room.

"I see tempers are running high today. May I know what happened?" Dumbledore asked, wearing his grandfather persona in an effort to calm the people.

"That man should not be allowed to be raising children!" Molly exclaimed regaining her anger and pointing at Sirius. "I went to look for the poor dear and you were right, Albus. Harry has not been taken care of! He's not in the house!" she screeched, her chest heaving with fast breaths.

"I told her that Harry was with his friends because he doesn't like when unwanted visitors come," Sirius stated in a disinterested manner, but an almost murderous glare was directed at the woman.

"I didn't know you were so interested in Harry's personal life to the point of speaking about it, Albus. As far as I remember, you didn't care where the boy lived when you didn't know he'd been left in an orphanage," Minerva said with eerie saccharine tones that sent shivers to Dumbledore's core.

"Molly and I did have a conversation regarding the boy's life years ago, though I believed it was settled," he said trying to appease the atmosphere.

"How can you say that?" Molly yelled at him. "There's no food in the house, the poor boy is allowed to befriend Death Eaters and you say the matter is settled? The last time you came to my house you were concerned about him being surrounded with such a bad influence that you worried they would lead him astray," the woman accused and he almost groaned; he could have lived without the others knowing that particular detail.

"You're calling my children Death Eaters?!" Minerva exclaimed, incredulous. "Those kids are the most dedicated students that the school has; excellent examples of conduct. I will not pretend their parents are saints, but I'll tell you this, Molly: don't mess with my children unless you want to mess with me," Minerva threatened and the other woman backed down for the moment.

"We're getting off track," Kingsley announced, interrupting any possible confrontation. "The reason we are joined here is to talk about Voldemort," he said, looking at Dumbledore. Sighing in relief, the headmaster nodded at him.

"Indeed. I have been looking for information about where he could be. So far, I have not pinpointed his location. However, it is safe to assume that his followers are the same ones as in the last war. Now, Kingsley, what is the DMLE planning to do about him?" he asked, the feeling of foreboding taking hold of him once again.

"I was waiting for you to arrive in order to announce this: I will no longer be part of the Order," he announced, surprising every person in the room. "I am an Auror; my duty is with the DMLE. The reason I joined the last war was because the Ministry was about to fall. This time around is different. The Aurors are being trained to fight, we have the right equipment and the new recruits are filling our ranks. I am sorry, but I am more useful with Madam Bones commanding me."

"I'm also leaving the order," Nymphadora announced after a short moment.

"I would leave, if it wasn't that James and Lily belonged to it," Sirius muttered.

"I see... Though I admit it was an unexpected announcement, I wish both of you luck and, if either of you wishes to join again, the doors will be open," Dumbledore said, regretting the departure of two powerful assets.

"Thank you. Let's go, Tonks. Mad-eye will throw a fit if we're late," Kingsley told the girl. She nodded. Both of them waved goodbye and left the house.

"Aside from those regretful announcements, what else do we have? Severus, what information did you manage to acquire from your old acquaintances?"

"The Dark Lord has called all his followers. As far as I know, every single one has gone back to him, except for Lucius Malfoy," the dour man informed the remaining members in an even voice, ignoring the shocked expressions from most of the room.

"That man can't be trusted! Are you sure he hasn't answered his call?" Arthur asked with wide eyes.

"I am, as a matter of fact. The Dark Lord is furious about his desertion. He has ordered the Lestranges to plan his capture. As you may understand, that means his life is in grave danger," he murmured, though the worry in his eyes could not be hidden.

"Although I believe Lucius may have changed, we cannot know for sure. Let's allow for events to flow. If he hasn't gone back by next summer, we will invite him to join us," Dumbledore announced with a gentle smile, although he could see the people in the room did not agree with his idea.

"He's a Death Eater, who knows what he's planning?" Arthur voiced with a pronounced scowl.

"That's the reason we will wait and see. Now, Remus, have you contacted any of the werewolf pack?"

"I did, and they will not join Voldemort," he said with a slight smile.

"That's excellent. Is there any way you can convince them to fight for us?"

"No, they all got jobs in the Muggle world. They will not join the war, and that was their final decision," he said, hiding his satisfaction at the fact he knew something the old man did not.

"Very well... Bill, was there any luck with the goblins?"

"Of course not, and I told you so. To my good fortune, Ragnok was in an excellent mood for some kind of business and I wasn't fired or eviscerated for asking about where their loyalties lay," William said with a scowl.

"I apologize, my boy, but we need to know if they will remain neutral or not."

"I could have answered that for you," Sirius said with a charming smile. "They will remain neutral unless something threatens their best clients. Neither of us belongs in that category. We are lucky none of the Death Eaters do either... Quite obvious, if you ask me," he gushed, receiving a soft smack from a smiling Minerva.

"Anyway, does anyone have something to add?"

"I do. I want Harry to spend a few days at my house; the poor boy needs to experience what a real family feels like," Molly said, looking determined. He was trying to think of a way to convince Sirius to agree, but when he glanced at the man he decided to remain silent.

"Molly, the only reason I have put up with your insinuations about how I take care of my godson for so long is because you are a good woman who allows her maternal instinct to rule. However, I will end that now. If you wish to fight me for Harry's custody, let's do it the right way. Go to the Ministry and request his guardianship. We will go to trial over it. But if you're not willing to go that far, leave us alone," the man said, his calm demeanour silencing the perplexed woman.

"I think you're overreacting, Sirius. Molly has only the best intentions at heart," Albus said with a disapproving frown that was ignored.

"I know that and, as I said before, it's the reason I've tolerated her for so long. However, I've reached the limits of my patience. Harry is used to making his own decisions. Thanks to some idiot who left him in that orphanage, he is mature beyond his years and I will not try to force him to do something he doesn't enjoy. That includes being in the house while people he neither knows nor wants to meet are here," he stated, daring anyone to contradict him.

"That is indeed true. He is young and will make mistakes, but they will be his own and he will learn. It's time for you to stop trying to make his decisions for him," Remus said.

"Let's finish this discussion here. I think we've discussed everything we needed to. Enjoy your holidays," Dumbledore said with a cordial smile. "Before I leave, I wish to speak with you," he told Sirius, who raised an eyebrow at him but remained silent, forcing him to keep talking. "I'm concerned about young Harry. The way you phrased it earlier made it sound as if you allow him free reign."

"I have no idea what gave you that impression. Even though you are used to being around children, you have never raised one, so excuse me if I don't take your concerns as important," the man dismissed him, waving away a solid argument to which he had no answer.

"Perhaps that is true, but I'm old enough to know children need a firm hand to guide them."

"You're right, children do, but Harry is not a child and hasn't been for a long time. Most parents struggle with their kids to make them study, do their homework, help in the house, organize their rooms, and be polite. My godson needs no reminder to do his homework, is the best student of his year, is polite, is organized, and is responsible; what else can I ask for? In what ways do you wish me to correct him? He is what most parents would kill for their children to be. You want to be able to make his decisions and dictate his life, which is different," the man sighed, rubbing his face.

"That is not true. I can see his arrogance. You're only cementing his belief that he is better than his peers," Albus accused, letting his accumulated frustration show.

"Is he really arrogant? Are you sure you aren't projecting your own flaws on a person who does have the skill and is not scared to show it? He is indeed proud of his abilities and accomplishments, but he has no delusions about them. He knows he is strong, but he also knows that in a duel he would be unable to win against an experienced fighter. He knows he has much to learn and he also knows there are people who are better than him. Now, tell me, why are you so concerned about him? Why are you trying so hard to control him?" Sirius demanded, his penetrating gaze observing the old man's every movement.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dumbledore deadpanned and left the house.

Without meaning to, Sirius had touched a sensitive nerve. He indeed believed the boy was arrogant because he had been so in his youth, and it was possible he still was. He indeed was trying to guide the boy, but until then he had not noticed he was trying to control him... It was nothing but the harsh reality. He had planned for the boy to arrive to their world ignorant and grow up as an outcast so he would see him as his saviour. In his efforts to ensure the greater good, he had somehow lost his vision.

Until now, he had seen the boy as a replica of him and Voldemort, never as his own person. Until now, the boy had given him no reason for him to believe he was dark - he had wanted to believe so because of the house he was placed in. He had not noticed how deep his prejudices run... It was a frightening realization to notice that he and Tom were different faces of the same coin. Unsettled, he proceeded to down a bottle of firewhisky and, if possible, erase the day from his memory. Without meaning to, he had turned into what Gellert had always wished him to be... That night, he dreamed of icy blue eyes observing him with pride.

---

Fred and George Weasley had been having a terrible holiday so far. The train ride had been the usual affair, with their friends agreeing to meet in the Alley or in the castle. Everything had been normal until they joined their family, and then everything went downhill.

"I can't believe you're so irresponsible!" their mother yelled at them once they had arrived at the Burrow. Too surprised to know what to do, they remained silent. "You joined the battle in the village. Are you both crazy?! Why did you not search for shelter or leave? Why didn't you protect your brother?" the woman demanded, leaving them speechless at her sudden outburst.

"We did what we thought was right. If we hadn't distracted them they would have attacked the other people or even tried to attack the students that were left in the village," George explained, still confused by his mother's reaction.

"I don't care! You should have protected your brother instead of fighting! You're both children!" she screamed at them and Fred lost his temper.

"You're worried about your son, that's all," he said with a clenched jaw. "Where was Percy, then? Why wasn't your perfect son protecting your youngest one?" he asked and was slapped by the furious woman.

"Percy was being responsible, unlike the two of you! Both of you are grounded; I don't want to see you out of your room for the rest of the holidays!" she screamed at them.

Fred was holding his cheek; understanding filled his being to the point that the revelation was drowning him. She was not worried about them; she was worried about the rest of her family and her other children. Their father had been proud and so was Bill, but not her. In her eyes, they were not good enough. George held his hand and they walked to their room in silence. Ginny was watching with tears running down her cheeks, but too scared to speak. Percy was scowling at them and Ron was looking at the floor. They left with their heads held high, knowing they had done the right thing, but that did not diminish the pain of knowing your own mother did not love you the way she loved her other children. That was two days ago and until then they had been locked in their room. Food was brought to their room by a distressed Ginny, who was worried about them, sneaking in when she could.

"Let's leave the house," Fred told his brother.

"I bet they won't notice... Except for Ginny, but she will think we managed to sneak out," George mused, a cynical smirk on his face.

"Let's go. The others will worry if we don't appear soon," Fred murmured with a contented sigh.

"True, they worry about us... Lea!" George called the familiar Potter elf.

"Mister George calls. What does he need?" the little one asked with a toothy smile.

"Could you pop us into the castle?"

"Of course," she said and offered her hands. They took them and left the Burrow.

Terrence and Daphne were engaged in an intense game of chess when an elf popped in. Daphne looked up to see the person who had arrived and her eyes widened. She ran to the twins' side and began probing Fred's cheek with gentle fingers.

"Who did this to you?" she demanded to know.

"It doesn't matter," he whispered, taking her hand and guiding her to a couch.

"Can I?" Terrence asked, taking out his wand and signalling his bruised cheek. He nodded and the boy began casting healing charms.

"Mother didn't enjoy the idea of us not protecting ickle Ronnikins," George chuckled without a hint of amusement.

"Harry will want to know you arrived," Daphne told them and they nodded.

"Is he in the Library?" Fred asked with hints of a smile.

"For almost two days he didn't leave that room, but Elizabeth's friend dragged him out today," Terrence said with mischief shining in his eyes.

"So the princess is here..." Fred said mirroring the boy.

"Let's go. I think they went to the sanctuary. Do control yourselves; I don't fancy the idea of taking care of cursed morons for the rest of the day," Daphne admonished and they smiled in return.

---

Hwasa was an intelligent young woman who understood the immense satisfaction a good book could bring. However, she was unable to understand why Elizabeth's brother seemed to live in the castle's library, reading as if his life depended on it. Tired of this situation, she had decided to do something about it. When she arrived at the library, the boy had been so lost in the book she had brought him that he had not even noticed her presence until she had taken it out of his hands. The boy was far too pale for his own good, which betrayed how little he spent under the sun... Without waiting for his consent, she had dragged him out for a walk.

"You do know there are civilized ways of requesting people to walk with you and kidnapping is not one of them?" Harry sighed at the impish girl beside him.

"It's not polite to ignore your guests. Besides, Elizabeth wanted to go with your aunt to the bookstore," she shrugged. "Though I could see you were enjoying the book."

"I was until I got interrupted... Did your grandfather allow you to lend it to me?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. After all, the royal family mark was a secret.

"Well, he didn't say no. Besides, he knows about all the books that go in or out of the library," she shrugged, concentrating on a charming, blue-looking flower.

"It's poisonous," he sighed, grabbing her hand before she could touch it.

"What is it?" she asked, admiring the flower.

"It is called Nila Mauta. It means blue death; an enticing flower that holds enough poison in one petal to kill a hundred," he told her and pulled her to keep walking. "I didn't notice before now that you have claws instead of nails," he teased, pointing to her long nails.

"They are not claws," she huffed and looked at her hands in appreciation. "They are perfect," she muttered with a pout that made him smirk in amusement.

"Perfect weapon for assassination," he answered, but to his surprise, the expected hit did not come.

"Of course. It's one of the reasons I keep them this way," she informed him and he sighed at the unnecessary information provided.

"Don't tell any of the girls; I'd rather not deal with my possible accidental demise by claws."

"Idiot," she retorted with an amused smirk.

They kept walking until they reached a clearing where unicorns were grazing and a few chimaeras were playing with gryphons. Hwasa sat in the grass and observed the other residents of the place, who at the moment were ignoring her. She patted the ground beside her and Harry sighed but complied. Sitting beside her, they relished in the tranquillity of the place.

"There's too much sunlight," he complained, making the girl smile.

"I don't think you are some kind of cursed vampire, so it won't kill you," she stated.

"It may not but I will get sunburnt," he muttered, admiring her tanned skin that almost had a golden shine on it. He wondered whether it perhaps was because of some kind of moisturizer or whether the girl was a strange creature that shone under the sunlight. Then he almost snorted; what kind of ridiculous being would sparkle under the sun? Maybe it would be good to ask what kind of creams she used.

"But you will live... Elizabeth told me about your heroic actions before arriving home," she spoke, breaking the silence.

"She was furious because she didn't participate, but I am glad; I don't want to imperil her," he sighed, enjoying the chirping from the birds.

"You won't be able to protect her forever."

"I know, which is why I wish to enjoy this for as long as it lasts."

"You're doing a good job... What about your mouldy-thing problem?" she asked. Her name for Voldemort ripped a chuckle from him and she blinked in confusion.

"Voldemort, you mean," he corrected, amused. "He is not so much of a problem at the moment; he's licking his wounds, but I am sure he will be planning something. Too bad for him that people realized they can fight back."

"I still don't know how it is possible for this country to raise so many dark lords. In the empire, we pay attention to anyone who may threaten the order of things. If they turn out to be a problem, we dispose of them before they can grow stronger. I know it sounds more like a dictatorship, and in a way it is, but we have been isolated from non-magicals for longer than others. We have learned that there exists no perfect government or governor. We do what we can to keep the balance," she whispered, looking at the unicorns.

"I know, but the problem is that this country is run by incompetents. Revolutionaries are born every day. Some have enough charm to gain followers; others reach positions of power... Neither of them thinks about the balance; they follow their wishes, not understanding the world is painted in different shades of gray."

"You're a revolutionary," she accused with a slight smirk.

"I am, just like my mother before me," he confirmed and she looked into the distance, lost in her thoughts.

"Promise me you won't forget that the world is gray and, when you change it, you will keep thinking about balance, not perfection," she said after a brief silence, her intense onyx eyes looking, penetrating his defences and reaching to his core.

"Do you want an unbreakable vow?" he joked to diffuse the intense atmosphere that had been created.

"Your word will be enough," she smiled.

"I promise," he swore, accepting her pinkie.

After a long walk, they went back to the castle for dinner. Much to their surprise, a group of people was waiting at the entrance to the castle. Harry noticed most of the Guild was present, along with a bored-looking Sirius and a confused Marcus.

"What happened?" Harry asked and everyone looked at him.

"Your walk was long," Sirius said with a wide smile and a glint in his eyes that he ignored.

"We were waiting for you," Daphne said, pushing Sirius to one side and ignoring the offended look the man gave her. "Fred and George arrived after lunch; we need to talk," she said, her face portraying the seriousness of the situation.

"Let's go to the library," he said, but one look at the princess' narrowed eyes made him sigh. "Perhaps it would be better if you followed me to my study. Hwasa, I think Ella will be decent company, and if certain person misbehaves, you can hand him to the security elves. They always appreciate the target practice," he told the girl. Without further ado, he walked inside and his friends followed.

They walked through the halls in silence until they arrived in front of a plain black door that Harry pushed open. The insides contained nothing impressive: a mahogany desk, wide bookshelves, and a place to sit. All in all, the room would be considered plain if not for the wondrous coat of arms belonging to the Potter family dominating one wall and the opposite one showing the names of every Potter that had ever lived. At the moment only one name glowed in golden letters: 'Harry James Potter'.

"We left our house," George said, collapsing on a couch.

"Mother was angry at us not protecting our youngest brother and daring to fight," Fred informed him and he sighed.

"You will be staying here; there's no way I am allowing you to be on your own," Harry told the boys and they nodded.

"That's not all," Daphne said, her steel eyes promising pain. "That woman dared to slap Fred," she added. The ice queen dominated by anger was a strange yet beautiful sight to behold.

"It doesn't matter... Not anymore," Fred muttered and Adrian comforted him.

"When we were little, we heard Charlie and Bill talking about how they didn't feel like part of the family... I will never forget; they said they lived with people who looked like them, but who were almost strangers," George whispered with closed eyes and Daphne held his hand in support.

"At the time, we didn't understand what they were talking about, but we remember that, even when both left, everything remained the same. While we grew up we began to understand... Percy is the favourite along with Ginny. Ron isn't, but our parents pay more attention to him because he's the youngest son. We remind mother too much of her brothers for her to be close with us; our eldest brothers did, too," Fred sighed.

"It's okay; you have us and we are your family," Luna said with her trademark dreamy smile. The group of friends talked until late hours, until there were no other stories to tell and until everyone understood how much they needed each other.

The days flew by with just a couple of interesting events. Hades, the Andean condor, brought an urgent message from Gringotts. It was written by Ragnok, who informed him that they had pinpointed the location of the other horcruxes. One was in a shack located in Little Hangleton, where curse breakers had been sent. They had detected dark magic and parselmagic protecting the place. Therefore, he asked whether Harry could arrange help from one of the parselmouths he had hired for the dragon reserves, if possible one who knew parselmagic. The other was located at Hogwarts. They were not sure where, exactly, but it was somewhere high up, so they needed to plan a way of destroying the thing.

Harry wrote a letter in response, promising to send a parselmouth and making an appointment to discuss the more delicate details. Caressing the bird, he handed it the letter and it flew away, understanding the importance of making sure the letter arrived without further delay. Otherwise, the castle remained unperturbed, except for a few balls of energy that managed to wake all the inhabitants for Christmas, dragging the poor souls into the living room to open presents.

Harry was doing his best to sleep with open eyes while the girls were squealing in particularly high pitches, though he imagined that those belonged to Theo and Marcus. Aunt Eleadora was smiling at the children, satisfied at the amount of people she could spoil; only if the bane of her existence was somewhere else, her day would be perfect. Sirius was leaning on Remus, sleeping without caring for the noises that surrounded him and getting as much rest as possible before the others arrived.

"I thought we were the loud ones," George grumbled.

"We were, dear brother, but we have been bested," Fred announced in a theatrical way.

"Whatever. The others will be here soon so this is as calm as it gets," Terrence sighed, smiling at the youngest twins, who were wearing bright smiles for a change.

"Won't your family notice that you aren't in the house?" Harry asked the twins.

"Who knows? They haven't noticed until now so I don't really care," George scowled.

"They'll think we're throwing a tantrum and don't want to go out," Fred shrugged.

Harry looked at them in tacit understanding. They were hurt and not thinking in a rational way, but they had solid arguments behind their reasoning. The Weasleys did not notice their children were gone; Remus had gone to pay a visit and confirmed their suspicions a few days ago. Their mother was still angry and their father was not in the house most of the time. The only one who noticed was Ginny, who begged Remus not to say anything to their mother because the twins were going to be punished if she noticed.

The calm man had been furious at their negligence but could understand. They had seven children, including three who demanded their constant attention and their eldest ones who did not want attention, but their mother demanded their presence. In comparison, the twins were almost never present in their minds unless they did something that demanded their parents' attention. Considering they played little to no pranks and the letters from the school had stopped, it was almost as if Molly and Arthur had forgotten their existence. He looked at his students feeling contrite. They all had so many difficulties in life that lycanthropy seemed tame in comparison; they were resilient and far more mature than he had been at that age. All he could do was mourn for the childhood they were losing, because the world would not allow them to be children.

"Mister Draco and his family are waiting outside," Rome announced to the group.

"Please allow them entrance with the usual checks, and then bring them here," Harry told the little elf. With a smile, he nodded and popped away.

One by one, the missing members of the Guild started popping in until everyone but Luna was present; the girl had joined her father in a trip to search for some strange creature. The Malfoy family was the last to arrive, walking to the seating area with sedate steps. Narcissa was wearing a bright smile that widened when Draco joined them. Lucius was looking as serious as always, but a hint of a smile appeared on his lips when he saw the haggard men in the couch. With firm steps, he approached them while his wife began chatting with the hag, who by no means scared him, but he would rather avoid a woman who had the power to curse his family jewels off.

"I see you are discovering the joys of parenting," he said as a greeting.

"How do people do this? Does having children give you some kind of hidden power to stop needing sleep?" Sirius complained.

"Be thankful that at this age it is once per year; when they are babies sleep is nothing more than a fond memory," he explained, smiling at the way his son's eyes shone while he talked with his friends.

"I hope you're ready for what the little devils have planned for today," Remus told the man.

"I would rather not know and I will feign ignorance at their attempts to make me join."

"I tried that last year; that cruel woman forced me to," Sirius whined pointing at Eleadora.

"Unlike both of you, I have a wife who will defend my honour," he quipped.

"Well, we are free men who are enjoying life," Sirius announced with a gleeful smile.

"Ignore the idiot. Have you taken any extra precautions?" Remus asked in a low voice and Sirius' face morphed into a serious one.

"I have. Believe it or not, Severus is my friend. He told me the moment those people were assigned to capture me and force me to comply. Dobby is following me everywhere. I realized he is excellent company and our conversations are interesting. Kreacher is always with my wife; he adores her," he murmured looking perturbed. "Eleadora also enchanted special portkeys. They will transport us to a safe place the moment one of us is unconscious or harmed in any way. Draco spends most of his time with his friends, so we know that he is safe. Thank you for worrying," he said to both men.

"It's only natural; Harry would kill us if something happened to one of his friends, and that extends to their families," Sirius shrugged.

"I am surprised that a thirteen-year-old is able to intimidate you so much. I believe he inherited that from his mother. As far as I remember, you were too scared to cross her when you were students."

"She was a scary woman; I remember how even the proud Slytherins hid from her. But you had already graduated by that time, old man," Sirius retorted.

The banter continued until the time for breakfast arrived. The group walked towards the gigantic dining room, passing many elves who were talking about some interesting project. Harry admitted he had the best cooks in all Europe at seeing the variety of dishes in the table.

Hedwig flew in with a newspaper, looking quite proud of herself. He smiled at the owl and gave her a few treats before untying the paper and smirking in delight. Rita was indeed going to earn a raise.

DEMENTORS: GUARDS OR THREATS?

By Rita Skeeter

My dear readers, after the attacks in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, this question have plagued me. As we know, Dementors are under the control of the Ministry, or that is what they want us to believe. The breakout from the prison during summer should have been impossible if what the authorities claim was true. The total number of Dementors is over a thousand, but there are no more than three hundred prisoners. If they were doing their duty, all those who were trying to escape would have been kissed. Why were they not? Did they allow the prisoners to escape? And if the Ministry controlled them, what does this say about our authority's loyalties?

I was unable to let this matter go, so I investigated further about those creatures' actions, both this summer and twelve years ago. I want to remind all my readers that, during the last war, Dementors were on the Dark Lord's side, helping release all the Death Eaters that our Aurors managed to capture. How do we know they did not do the same this time around? During those dark times they attacked in big groups, kissing hundreds of Muggles. If that was not enough, they also attacked our Aurors and civilians. They sowed death wherever they went; the Ministry was unable to stop them... They fought alongside Death Eaters, murdering our people. During the attacks a few weeks ago, they followed the same pattern. They swarmed both Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, helping Death Eaters instead of apprehending them as Minister Cornelius Fudge promised they would do. If it were not for our heroes, many more innocent lives would have been lost.

Now those criminals are on the loose and a mistake of nature is claiming to be the Dark Lord. Why are Dementors still trusted when it is quite obvious they are not decent guards? It is clear that they are dangerous. I believe it is time to reform our prison system. There are not enough human guards and the prisoners are submitted to a daily torture which ends up robbing them of what is left of their sanity, making them even more dangerous.

Few questioned when they were placed near our children because the Minister promised it was for their protection. I have to ask, can we trust the man who places those disgusting creatures near our beloved children? I will not tolerate having those things close to the school ever again!

I believe it is time to adopt other countries' ideas, for example Switzerland, a country that hires gnomes to be their prison guards. I believe it is time to take a step forward and leave behind some of the most antiquated ideologies, such as the idea that everyday people are unable to fight, because we have proved that is not the case. My dear witches and wizards, it is time to open our eyes to the injustice and corruption that controls our country. Do not forget that we are the ones who hold the power; let's raise our voices and, in that way, ensure our safety. I have no doubt that this article will gain me dangerous enemies, but I will not allow crimes like this to go unnoticed. May mother magic protect us in these difficult times.

"Is the article that good?" Daphne asked with a raised eyebrow and he gave it to her.

"We will talk about it later," he ordered and the group nodded.

The table was filled with laughter and life after that. Narcissa watched with fondness how much her husband had turned back into the man he had been before the Dark Lord arrived. He still received calls every day, but he ignored them. It was good to see her family would not suffer the way it did last time. Her chest filled with warmth at the sight of her son being so happy; never before had she seen him as lively as when he was with his friends. The calm atmosphere and high spirits dominated the place.

The Burrow was another story entirely. Bill Weasley remembered once again, why he had left the house as soon as he could, although he missed a few of his siblings, it was not enough to bring him back. His mother was cooking, forcing Ginny to help while his other brothers were lazing around. He had learned the hard way that in real life there were no exclusive skills or roles for males and females. He had been alongside females who were better Curse-breakers than him. He had met males who enjoyed doing housework. It had been a humbling experience to understand, unlike what their parents had taught them by their example, a woman could work and a man could cook. Therefore, he began to loathe the way his mother trained his little sister to be the perfect housewife and allowed his brothers to be useless brats that would never survive alone.

If that was not enough, his mother smothered them, not allowing any kind of privacy under her roof. He knew she was trying to show her love, but after losing her family in the war she had become overprotective to the extreme and avoided anything that reminded her of the family she had lost. That was the reason that the moment Percy was born she put her two eldest children aside - because they acted like the brothers she once had - and the same could be said for George and Fred...

Thinking about them made him want to rip out his hair in frustration. Ginny had told him how his mother had treated them when they returned. He had tried to reason with his mother and the only thing he earned was a migraine. She believed they were children throwing a tantrum and did not understand how deep she might have hurt them. She did not seem to know how much they had matured. She did not care that the reason letters had stopped coming from school was because the twins had become the most dedicated students of their year. With a heavy heart, he had gone to their room in order to speak with them, only to find it empty. He would have thought they had sneaked out if it wasn't for that sixth sense that made him question the last time they had been in there.

That was the moment he had panicked, but he decided not to say anything to his parents. He had questioned Ginny about their friends and got an extensive and slightly worrying group of people they associated with. He had managed to contact Neville Longbottom to question the boy about his brothers and agreed to meet in a restaurant, which had been a day that he would never be able to forget. It had been the day he had realized his brothers were not children anymore. It had been the day his life had turned into a complicated affair.

Bill walked into the restaurant, looking around in appreciation. Until then, he had only managed to visit one of the cafés and he admitted the food it served was one of the most delicious things he had ever tasted. He was looking for the Longbottom boy when he saw two familiar red heads and had to restrain himself from running in their direction. As he got closer, he got a clear sight of the group. His brothers were sitting beside a woman and the most perfect-looking person he had ever seen in his life. Restraining his curiosity in order not to probe the handsome boy to see if he was real, he sat in one of the empty chairs and glared at his brothers with all his might.

"May I know where you've been for such a long time? I almost went nuts not being able to find you when I came home for Christmas," he hissed, not needing to raise his voice to convey his anger.

"We left a couple of days after we arrived and as we thought no one would notice," Fred said, keeping his calm demeanour in place. His anger deflated.

"Before we continue talking, we present you our friend, Harry Potter, and his dear aunt, Eleadora," George said signalling the other occupants of the table.

"A pleasure to meet you, thank you for taking care of my brothers" he nodded, reining in his emotions in order not to gape at the strangers like an idiotic goldfish. He had not been expecting to meet the boy-who-lived, but he would not ruin his image.

"Likewise," the boy spoke with a musical voice.

"It is good to meet you, dear," the woman stated. "I admit I was worried about your family not noticing my children were gone, but knowing they have a brother that cares about their wellbeing calms my heart," the gentle witch commented, directing him a kind smile.

"I'm glad they have found people to lean on when I'm not present," he replied, the last wisps of anger evaporating, leaving him exhausted.

"We didn't want to worry you," George began explaining.

"But we could no longer stay, mother is-."

"I know she can be intense and somewhat careless with her words. That is the reason I'm not dragging you by the ears," he interrupted Fred, understanding his brothers because he, too, would have left if given the opportunity.

"We'll go back the morning we need to leave for the station," Fred told him, looking resolute.

"I don't mind, but you'll have to meet with me a few times for me to know how you are doing," he notified his wayward siblings with a smile. "McGonagall sent a letter; she is proud about how much your grades have improved and supports you in the careers you chose. Though I have no idea what she was referring to - mind explaining?"

"I want to be an enchanter, but Potions fascinates me so I'm considering a mastery," Fred said, his cheeks pink.

"I discovered I love Runes so I'm thinking about a possible mastery, though being a healer also sounds interesting," George shrugged, unable to hide his smile.

If he was honest, he admitted being surprised by his sibling's thoughts on the future. It seemed he had fallen into the same trap as the others and believed they would have wanted to do the same thing. In a way, their enthusiasm reminded him of his own student days, how had he had worked to obtain his twelve OWLs and how hard it had been to apply to Gringotts without anyone supporting him. He smiled at his brothers, promising he would support them.

"So how many OWLs should I be expecting?" he asked.

"At least twelve; our teacher will murder us if we dare to have less," Fred muttered the last part, avoiding looking at the kind woman.

"They will get them without problems. After all, I am teaching them myself, something that few can brag about," the woman announced.

"May I ask where your specialities lay?" he asked the woman with curiosity.

"Of course, dear. I am an enchantress, a healer, and a Potions and Runes mistress. I have specialized in a few other things, but I have no interest in pursuing any further mastery at the moment," she said, dismissing her accomplishments with a shrug while he gaped at her.

"The things you can manage to do after living for a hundred and sixty years," Harry added, enjoying the bewilderment in the twins' brother's expression.

"I... So... Yeah, okay," he accepted and took a sip of his drink. "What will happen to that joke shop you were thinking about?"

"We will create some products in our free time."

"Maybe we will open the shop as a hobby," his brother shrugged.

That was the moment he understood that his little brothers were no longer children. They understood that a career was important; while it did not define your life, it influenced it. Both of them were cementing their futures, not obtaining good grades to please, but for themselves. He smiled at them with pride. Both of them would do great things in the future, of that he was sure. That meal he spent talking with the other people at the table and getting acquainted with Fred and George, rather than the Weasley twins.

He learned that Fred had a talent for Potions that, combined with his creativity, made him an invaluable potioneer. George had an innate understanding of runes - his knowledge and practice on the theme surprised him, because not even as a Curse-breaker had he been unable to understand all the complicated terms his brother was gushing about with twinkling eyes. He learned that both of them enjoyed duelling and were having a few lessons a month with Professor Flitwick.

Bill remembered respecting the man while he was still a student, but it was only when he left school that he learned how privileged he had been with having him as a teacher. Many other people had asked him about the 'Great Master Filius', who had left his imprint on history by being one of the best duellists that had ever existed. If you added his fame for being one of the most powerful enchanters alive... He had felt pretty stupid for not asking the man for any kind of extra lesson or putting more effort into his classes.

At the end of their meeting he had felt satisfied at the knowledge of his brothers' safety. While they were not seeing the whole picture, he could not blame them for leaving home. He looked at the boys that were no longer children with nostalgic eyes and wistful smile. He hoped they could enjoy their time as students because dark times were approaching and he could do nothing to shield them from what was coming.

---

Harry Potter walked towards Gringotts with different thoughts running through his mind. The book Hwasa had given him had been a revelation in more ways than one. Now, he had deeper understanding of the Dark Mark, how it had been perverted to become the disgraceful sign of Voldemort. Magic marks were created to establish a connection based on trust. However, in its most basic form it was a slave seal. Though it did not rob your free will, it acted as a deterrent in case of the marked person attacking the one that controlled the mark.

In the royal family, it had been used for more than millennia. They had learned that, in the path of power, no family existed. Therefore, they had created a way to ensure the assassinations between royalties came to a halt, which had been a success but brought unexpected advantages. It was able to call all the marked people, it was able to leach magic in minor quantities in case of an emergency, and it was able to send brief messages. In ancient times, the royal mark was a sign of honour and only the royal family was allowed to bear it. Its secrets were passed from generation to generation, to the new emperor or empress, thus he was unable to understand how Voldemort had managed to create his mark. He needed more information about how it worked, which was another reason he needed to speak with Ragnok. Gringotts had the best Curse-breakers and analysts in the world, and now he needed to hire their services. He was sure Lucius would be willing to have that thing looked over.

He entered the bank and greeted the outer guards, who returned the greeting. One of the things he enjoyed the most about visiting the bank was finding civilized people with manners. He saw a familiar teller free and approached his counter.

"Good morning, Sharpclaw," he greeted the goblin, who composed a sharp smile.

"Mister Potter, it is always a pleasure to have you visiting our humble abode."

"Humble abode... I believe your standards are set too high," the boy said, making the other male chuckle.

"Manager Ragnok is waiting for you. May gold continue filling your abundant vaults."

"And may your enemies continue trembling at your name," the boy smirked at the teller.

Harry walked towards Ragnok's office, an amused expression on his face. It was good to have those small conversations with Sharpclaw; the man always managed to lift his spirits with their banter. He knew the meeting was going to last a long time and sighed. Although he enjoyed visiting the bank, staying seated for many hours was not among the activities he enjoyed the most. He saw the goblin's office door wide open and took it as a silent invitation to enter. The man in question was reading through a thick folder with what most would consider a disturbing expression. However, he had learned it was his happy one, always present when business was going well.

"Good morning Ragnok," he greeted the goblin, who looked up in surprise and smiled.

"As punctual as always, Harry. Before we get down to business, may I inquire how Miss Elizabeth is doing?" the goblin asked with a toothy grin.

"She is as energetic as she can be, learning everything she can from Aunt Eleadora."

"Ah, so she is on her path of becoming someone to reckon with."

"Far too much for my taste... You seemed happy, Ragnok. Any good news?" he asked, changing the topic from his unpredictable little sister.

"Excellent news: the stationery store is thriving. A while ago I received this contract from the Ministry, who wishes to buy supplies in bulk," he informed him, handing him a folder.

"What do you recommend?"

"Hand it to Miss Blair for inspection first. The Minister wants some kind of publicity and is offering more money than necessary. If the contract is approved, then agree to it."

"I will do that. How are the other businesses doing? When I ask Ploutos he only manages to confuse me," he admitted. The elf and his constant enthusiasm for numbers only assured him everything was going well enough.

"Excellent. Your wise investments are cash cows. The dragon reserves have never been better; the dragons are cooperating more than they ever did before. I was informed that one of your dragon handlers is raising Cerberuses to take care of security," the man questioned with raised eyebrows.

"That would be Hagrid; there were some people who tried to steal some of the dragon eggs. His dog, Fluffy, stopped them, he asked me permission to raise more and I agreed. The man has a talent to communicate with other species I have never seen before; the dragons love him," he shrugged and pretended not to notice the astounded expression of the goblin.

"That is not what I was expecting... Next matter is regarding the businesses in Diagon Alley. The clothes shop has expanded to the point it is one of the most visited places along with the shoe shop. The perfume store is having an incredible amount of sales; if I am honest, I was not expecting that. The bag shop is thriving; people are fascinated with the variety on sale. The food places are going to need expanding if so many people continue visiting and I would also consider expanding the day-care," he advised and Harry nodded in agreement.

"I have been thinking about doing that. I will begin planning for the expansions. Are the branch offices doing well?"

"More than well; they have been a constant source of money, already paying their investment... You should consider expanding Dulcis Magicae; their products sell almost as fast as they are produced."

"I know; Ella spends most of her time in there. She enjoys decorating all the sweets she can manage," he grumbled. "I will expand it. I have another matter related to business. My aunt met a first-generation witch a few weeks ago; she is an enchantress. According to my aunt, she is one of the most creative people she has ever met and invented a communication mirror," he explained, taking out his mirror from his messenger bag and handing it to the goblin across from him. "It enables communication between the two people who own the brother mirrors. I agree with this being a brilliant invention and wish to invest in it. However, I need a background check first. If she is reliable then I can work with her in the future, if she is not I wish to buy her idea outright."

"Brilliant device indeed, what is the woman's name?" the goblin asked, probing the mirror with curiosity.

"Anna Calliope. She graduated from Hogwarts seven years ago and works at Flourish and Blotts. This mirror has potential as the foundation of many future inventions based on Muggle devices," he explained with a smirk that the goblin reciprocated.

"I will dispatch people to have her background checked and will send the results to you in a week at most."

"Thank you for the help, Ragnok."

"It is my pleasure to make more gold," the goblin smirked and he huffed.

"Of course it is. Never mind that, I guess the other things are going well?"

"That they are; the acromantula silk you provide has a superb quality, thus it is easy to export it."

"Yeah, I need to find more uses for it. Now that Aragog and his children live in peace, the only use they have for their silk is as a gift to keep them safe. They produce so much that all my elves are dressed in it and my sister is tired of seeing her clothes made of that. Even Aunt Eleadora refuses to keep accepting more and not many are able to afford it, so we don't have many clothes made from it for the shop... Wouldn't you like a couple of meters?" he offered, looking hopeful; maybe he could gift a couple of hundred meters.

"I don't know what to say about that offer. Acromantula silk is extremely valuable. However, goblins are a warrior race and we accept nothing for free," the goblin explained, looking bewildered. It seemed the boy possessed the same twisted logic his mother tended to use.

"Then I can give it to you as a payment for all your help. Please accept it; the elves will rebel if I keep giving them silk," he almost begged and the confused male nodded.

"I believe it is time to begin discussing more delicate matters," Ragnok told the boy, whose expression morphed into a serious one. "Death Eaters are beginning to move their money, just as we predicted; they are following the same patterns from the last war. The Minister is starting to receive curious donations, as are many other people in the Ministry."

"At least we have a list of the ones who are receiving extra incentive, to keep an eye on them. They are not being careful, which is perfect for us; they are making it easier to track their moves. I was informed that they were trying to contact vampires and werewolves to join. All my allies are contacting the ones they know to offer them protection. What we fear is Greyback; the man is getting desperate because we have been protecting all the children that we are able to. We are beginning to organize hunting parties; many hags are helping us to capture him, but a desperate man is more dangerous."

"That is indeed true. I offer some of my people to help - the most experienced trackers and hunters."

"Thank you, Ragnok. I appreciate your help... We also know about them trying to contact different centaur herds. So far we have no idea whether they will join. The giants and Dementors are a lost cause; they have joined already. I hope you have implemented the protection runes I sent you a few weeks ago. Aunt Eleadora made them herself to protect the castle from Dementors."

"We have added them to our wards. I believe we have not thanked you for the many lengths you have gone to protect our people," the goblin told the boy, who raised an eyebrow in curiosity when he began searching in his desk.

After a few moments, he smiled, took out a simple black box and handed it to Harry, who eyed it with curiosity and opened it. Inside there was a sleek, narrow blade. Its handle was decorated with a snake coiling around that had emeralds for eyes. The almost scintillating metal gave away the material it was made from: goblin iron. It was a weapon forged by a master in his craft, with a material that was considered almost sacred within the Goblin Nation. He stared at it in amazement for a brief moment and sighed.

"This is the kind of gift I am unable to accept; only your warriors are allowed to carry such a valuable weapon," the boy said. With a heavy heart, he closed the box.

"The king has decided to name you a friend of my people; you have showed us deep trust and honest concern for our wellbeing. It is a gift to show you our appreciation," the goblin announced and he nodded, understanding the great honour he had been granted.

"Thank you, Ragnok. I will never forget the trust you have given me," he swore.

"Neither will we forget all your help... Now, moving onto less pleasing topics. The horcrux in Little Hangleton was dealt with yesterday; the parselmouth you sent us was invaluable to ensure the safety of all people involved. It was a ring that contained a terrible curse and a powerful compulsion charm, and it once belonged to the Gaunt family. Pure-bloods who were driven to extinction by their obsession, they were the last descendants from Salazar Slytherin."

"Voldemort was the last Slytherin descendant," he murmured with wide eyes, understanding what the goblin had implied.

"Indeed. We are looking for any children that the last descendants may have had. Marvolo Riddle died between late 1925 and 1928; he was father of Merope and Morfin Gaunt. The son was sent to Azkaban in 1925, sentenced to three years for cursing Muggles and attacking Aurors. He was once again arrested in the summer of 1943 for murdering the Riddle family with the killing curse; he is residing in Azkaban and had never had children. Merope Gaunt, on the other hand, married Tom Riddle, who was a Muggle. From what we managed to gather from the villagers, she was a meek woman and her husband was deeply in love with her, to the point of running away together and eloping to London. They never understood why he came back a year later without the girl; there exist many rumours but we have no idea where the truth lies. We believe her to be dead, which is a shame because the girl was eighteen when she ran away. So far, we have only managed to collect that information, but we have reason to believe that Voldemort may be her son."

"The biggest mystery of Voldemort has always been his origins... I wonder where he was raised. I can ask Miss Blair to investigate him in the Muggle world and I will look around in Hogwarts to find anything about him," he smirked. How ironic would it be if a blood purist was born from a Muggle.

"We can give you the ring if you wish to have it," the goblin offered, though Harry declined with a shake of his head.

"I would rather not touch it. Have you managed to pinpoint a more precise location for the other horcrux?"

"No, the only thing we know is that it is in the upper floors, but not in the towers. It is almost as if the room it is located in, does not want to be pinpointed," he groaned.

"I can ask whether the elves have more of an idea. Have you managed to locate another?"

"No, the devices need to rest for a month... We have tried to use one of them to track down Voldemort, but it will be impossible. The horcruxes are so polluted with evil magic that their magical signatures differ completely," he lamented with a slight scowl.

"It's a shame, though we still aren't sure whether they belong to him," Harry said and smiled at the goblin's incredulous expression. "I prefer to be a sceptic and plan for the worst-case scenarios," he justified his suspicious attitude, one that sometimes bordered on paranoia.

"Anyway," continued Ragnok, "we believe it is time for the Minister for Magic to be changed. The man allies himself with whoever puts the highest number of galleons in his vault; he will hinder many of our plans."

"I will order Rita to investigate the man. Any suggestions for the new one?"

"Madam Bones would do an excellent job, though we can always look for more candidates."

"I was similarly thinking of her, a brave woman who will make the Ministry effective... I have been paying with the idea of having Marcus Travers as a political opponent in a distant future. How long do you think that would take?"

"A young man, but he has the background. If I am not wrong he is the actual junior undersecretary." He paused a moment for Harry to confirm, who nodded. "If he has the right support... Perhaps you can get your journalist to portray him as a hero when the useless Fudge is sacked; that would begin cementing his career."

"That's excellent advice; I will do so, Ragnok... Before I forget, I want to hire the most experienced analysts you have."

"May I inquire as to the reason for that strange request?"

"Of course, my friend. I want to analyze the dark mark. I have an idea of how it works but I need more information. I have no doubt that Lucius Malfoy will agree to have his looked at; Voldemort is quite insistent and keeps trying to call him," he informed with a slight smirk.

"I can arrange that, but using your caution as an example, I will also keep an eye on the movement of his accounts. You never informed me what Miss Pittsum concluded of your scar," the goblin commented and his eyebrows rose in surprise.

"I forgot about having it checked. Don't tell my aunt unless you want to lose your client to a violent murder," he almost groaned. It had slipped his mind for almost a year.

"It seems that the brilliant Potter heir is a mere human after all," Ragnok joked, amused at the boy's distress "However, we need to know if the scar is connected in any way to Voldemort, especially after the way it reacted a year ago."

"I agree. Is there any healer you recommend?"

"If you don't mind being looked at by goblins, I can arrange a meeting in less than an hour."

"Please do. I trust yours more than I trust the ones at St. Mungo's," he agreed and the man took out his usual book and began writing in it.

"It is done. We have to wait half an hour for the healer to be ready. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

"That's perfect. Any news on what the Ministry is doing?"

"Nothing useful, but that is no surprise, although there are curious rumours regarding next year."

"As far as I knew, the only interesting event was the Quidditch Cup being played," Harry said, inviting the goblin to inform him of any other things that could happen.

"Albus Dumbledore has been pushing to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament. He is being quite insistent bout it. The useless Minister, in his search for approval, is willing to make it happen. Leonard Fawley, Head of the Ministry of Magic's Department of International Magical Cooperation, and Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, agree to this initiative. Although Madam Bones is against it, there is a high probability of the Tournament taking place next year."

"What is this competition about and why was it cancelled?" he asked, curiosity shining in his eyes.

"It is a magical contest held between the three largest wizarding schools of Europe that existed in the thirteen century: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Durmstrang Institute, and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Each school is represented by one champion. The official purpose was to promote unity between countries, but the real objective was to see which school was better. It was cancelled because of all the casualties it caused, not only among the participants, but also among the public and judges."

"So it's extremely dangerous. I wonder what the headmaster is planning... Anyway, I will find a way of turning this to our advantage. Thank you for the information, Ragnok... I have been thinking about William Weasley, he's a Curse-breaker and works here. Do you know anything about him?"

"I was not aware that Gringotts had turned into a social club," the goblin joked, almost chuckling at the boy's surprised face.

"You would love to meet Sirius. Two of Bill's younger brothers are close friends of mine. As far as I am concerned, they consider him one of his favourite siblings. He seems to care about my friends. However, I need to know where his loyalties lie. I don't have the privilege of allowing a spy near people I consider family and who have access to delicate information," he informed the goblin.

"I understand and agree with your cautiousness. He has been working at the bank for six years, but lately he has been asking some delicate questions regarding our loyalties. We sent some of our people to investigate the reason. It seems he has joined a vigilante group called the Order of the Phoenix. It was created by Albus Dumbledore during the last war. Though he is good at his job, if he keeps pestering us we will be forced to dismiss him from his duties."

"I know about the Order; my parents were part of it. Sirius told me that it was active once again. I apologize for not telling you; it slipped my mind. I will ask my godfather who the actual members of the order are. That way we can see who is loyal to Dumbledore."

"I would appreciate it. We have excellent employees but we would rather have loyal ones."

"I will send you a letter as soon as Sirius tells me. I suggest finding a way to examine your employees in case one is placed under the imperius or a loyalty potion. I can ask Aunt Eleadora to begin researching. I believe it would be appropriate to also apply it to my businesses."

"I believe that is an excellent idea. Do you mind if we ask your aunt to work with our people?"

"Not at all; that way we will have results sooner... Security is something that worries me now that Voldemort noticed his raids are no longer useful. I am still receiving people who come looking for refuge. Madam Bones and Head Healer Abbot are accepting vampires and werewolves to train. Both are pleased to see the number of capable candidates they now have and I also have dozens of guards in the Alley. However, I believe that is not enough. Luna had a dream a few weeks ago in which dozens of Death Eaters and Voldemort were terrorizing people. She said it was in an open field and others were running. They had Muggle children as hostages and two Muggle adults were being tortured," he explained, sharing his worries.

"Your seer had a worrisome glimpse into the future. Do you have any idea of when it may happen?"

"The Quidditch World Cup, which is the only place where hundreds of magical will join in an open field, though now that you informed me about that competition, it is also a possibility."

"What precautions are you thinking of taking?"

"Luna said people were only able to run, so they somehow activated a large-scale ward against Apparating and portkeys, or the civilians forgot they could use magic. Even though the DMLE now has more recruits than in the past decade, it's not enough. I wouldn't have worried if Luna wasn't so perturbed. We are training our people and equipping them as much as we can; Ares and Mars are training dozens of elves for security, but Luna is still worried. I'm running out of ideas," he murmured and rubbed his face.

"She is indeed powerful if she knows that something will go wrong... Did she mention how many people Voldemort had on his side?"

"No, but she told me there were many more than expected. He is somehow obtaining followers and that is the real problem. Many students have come to me searching for help, teenagers that were going to be marked during the holidays. I need to know who else is joining him."

"Have you considered other schools? Dumstrang's last headmaster was a Death Eater, though we have no idea where the actual headmaster's loyalty lies. Voldemort may be obtaining his recruits from other countries and the other option is the use of inferi. He tried to use them during the last war, but a few people who opposed him mastered Fiendfyre, which made his tactic ineffective. Perhaps he is not expecting anyone who is able to master the curse."

"I've never tried it myself, but as far as I knew, the spell was unable to be controlled. Who were the people capable of that feat?" Harry asked, curiosity gnawing at him.

"The ones who possess the power are so rare that most consider it a myth. Your mother was one of the people who could, Edgar Bones and Gideon Prewett were the other ones," Ragnok explained while he checked his book. "The healer is ready."

"Thank you Ragnok, I will practice with it. If Luna has any other feelings I will inform you. Let's go."

The boy and goblin walked into the depths of Gringotts, a place where no other human had been allowed to venture in more than five hundred years. Ragnok was pleased to have found a human worthy of trust, who appreciated their friendship and treated them as equals. He admitted being doubtful when the boy told him about the possible threats and explained his source of information, a savant seer. Nevertheless, he took precautions and he regretted doubting him. The attack would have cost him people, had he not ordered the guards to remain inside the day of the attack.

That day, he decided that, even if what Harry Potter told him sounded impossible, he would take the boy's worries as real threats. He would not have believed the Quidditch Cup would be attacked, with all the security the Ministry was placing because of all the international guests. However, if the boy worried then so did he. The memory of inferi being used froze his blood; many of his people had died because of them during the last war. Inferi were not wizards, therefore, they were not violating the treaty when attacking them inside the bank. Now that he thought on it, it would be an excellent idea to get his most trusted employees to learn to control Fiendfyre or ask the specialists to create some kind of ward against them.

They walked in silence until they reached a plain corridor where a door was open. Ragnok guided him to the room, where he saw two ancient-looking goblins waiting. Both of the people he assumed to be healers were dressed in white and he wondered if it was a healer thing to choose white as their representative colour.

"Healer Fierceguard, Healer Silverwick, I present to you the friend of our nation, Harry Potter," Ragnok introduced.

"Pleased to meet you," Harry greeted with the traditional bow.

"Likewise, Harry Potter," the one he thought was Fierceguard greeted in return and the other nodded.

"Ragnok said a few worrisome things, such as your scar hurting when the man is close. Can you describe the feeling?" Silverwick inquired.

"Of course. It felt like my scar was being ripped open. I remember the pain and feeling dizzy, but I am ashamed to admit I remember nothing else."

"I see... A worrying situation indeed. Please lay in the bed and Fierceguard will analyze you while I ask some questions," the healer said and he nodded.

"I can leave if you wish," Ragnok offered, not wishing to intrude.

"I don't mind if you stay and, either way, you will know the results," Harry answered and the manager took a seat close by, taking out the thick book he always carried with him.

"Have you ever practiced Occlumency?" one healer asked while the other was starting to wave a glowing hand over him at a slow pace.

"I do. Since I was eleven I have been meditating. However, the skill comes naturally to me; for as long as I remember, I have been organizing my memories to be able to remember what I read," he explained and the amazed goblin nodded.

"That is indeed a wondrous talent to posses. Do you have control over your mind palace?"

"I do. In essence, I designed it to be simple. It's a totally dark space: no sound, smell, taste, feeling, or sight. I'm not aiming to be a master Occlumens, therefore I consider that an excellent defence."

"Indeed it is, the worst kind of torture applied to the invader. So, you have not tried to alter your memories?"

"No. I have no interests in doing so," he answered, because while Occlumency was interesting, what fascinated him the most was Legilimency.

"Has your scar hurt on any other occasion?"

"A few classes during my first year, but after the confrontation with Voldemort it hasn't bothered me at all."

"Have you ever had a dream where you felt you were not yourself?" the goblin asked, looking perturbed. The other healer's expression was inscrutable as her hand hovered over his head.

"Not at all. I don't tend to have dreams, but when I dream most of them are memories."

"That is all. You will have to give us a moment," he announced and both healers left the room.

He and Ragnok waited for a few minutes in silence until both of them came back, looking agitated. They were talking to one another in their native language; he realized that he had not been putting in enough effort to learn it when he noticed he was able to understand only half of what was being said. Nevertheless, the phrase 'incomplete lethal curse' and the sight of Ragnok paling disturbed him.

"We have found the problem, but it is a delicate matter," Healer Fierceguard began explaining, her hand clenched on the parchment she was holding. "It is a magical parasitic leech, which is the consequence of an incomplete or unsuccessful lethal curse. For a moment, we believed it to be a horcrux, but we dismissed the idea. Those disgusting things are not made by accident; the specific ritual it needs for to be created would not allow it.

"The next option is the one we are informing you about. Magical parasitic leeches do what the name suggests: they feed on the magic of the person and constrict it to the point where it blocks a part of their magical core. They are rare, but we have found a few cases. While you have the leech, your soul will be unable to leave this world if you die, but that also applies to the one that the leech belongs to. In a way, it feeds his magic, which does not allow his spirit to leave while you have it. Neither can die while the other survives," she explained, looking grave.

"Is that how Voldemort has managed to survive for so long?" he asked, unable to react.

"It may be, as it is a link between his magic and yours. A person is only able to die if no magic is left in their body. While horcruxes keep your soul anchored to this plane, your consciousness ceases to exist until someone performs the ritual to bring back your physical form. Otherwise, horcruxes remain as objects with a soul inside; evil but useless. We have found dozens in Egypt, but the most they can do is influence a person with a weak will. On the other hand, a leech is a link between two people; it is more unilateral, but a link nonetheless."

"Is there any way of getting rid of it?" he asked. The knowledge that he had a part of Voldemort in his head disgusted him to no end.

"There is, and the process is quite simple. We will perform a cleansing ritual. It will not only destroy the leech, but it will also dispose of any possible residue," Healer Silverwick explained. "However, we need to put you to sleep; otherwise the process will be painful."

"I don't mind. Ragnok, please call Rome or Ella when we are done, and by no means tell my aunt or my sister," he half threatened, half begged.

"I will not say a word to them," the goblin promised, issuing a smile to cover his worry.

Harry nodded and a healer approached him, putting a finger on his forehead. He was instantly unconscious. They took the boy to a special chamber where the most trusted Curse-breaker in the bank was waiting. The process was incredibly complicated because the leech had tainted much of the boy's magic, so they had to be extremely careful not to damage his core. In the end, they were successful, although the tired Curse-breaker had passed out, as did one of the healers. A few goblins took care of them while the other healer checked on the boy.

After the healer gave the positive signal, Ragnok called a Potter house elf, who popped the boy out after thanking them profusely. He sighed in relief. It had been a complicated ritual and he admitted he had reached the peak of what his heart could take that day. With tired steps, he went to his cavern to, if possible, have a peaceful evening.

Harry Potter woke up the next day feeling better than ever. He took a long bath. Noticing his scar appeared fainter, he smiled. He proceeded to write a letter to the goblins to thank them and used the opportunity to tell Ella to take a few hundred meters of acromantula silk to the bank. She nodded so fast that he guessed she was relieved to get rid of it and, if he was honest, he was too.

Days went by with no other interesting events. However, the day before boarding the train to Hogwarts was memorable, but not for the reasons he would have wished. It had been a normal morning and the whole Guild, plus Sirius and Hwasa, were having lunch at the castle. The conversation had been smooth until one of the morons he considered his friends decided to ask the princess how her country was run instead of reading a book on the topic.

"So how does the Asian Empire work?" asked a curious Theo. The princess raised an eyebrow at him and he faltered, and he proceeded to take a big bite of his food.

"It does sound antiquated," Marcus agreed and a few seconds later looked at his food in panic, much to the amusement of Harry. It seemed the older girl was able to intimidate his friends with a simple unimpressed look.

"Please, stop intimidating the cowards," he told her in Mandarin, earning a smirk from her.

"If you say so..." she uttered and looked at his friends. "The empire is old indeed, but not antiquated. We have existed for thousands of years, since a time when countries did not exist and territories were reigned by families. However, unlike other dim-witted morons, we don't use quills or parchment; we are intelligent enough to adapt Muggle technology for our world," was her sharp response that ensured no one else asked.

"So how was it created if it's so old?" asked Sirius. It seemed the man was unable to notice the panic with which Theo was looking at him or notice when he should remain quiet.

"One of my ancestors had a vision. She saw most of our people murdered because non-magicals were too frightened of magic. She decided to contact all the families and show them her vision. They united and decided to keep our world secret, choosing her as the new leader for the new era. Since then, Muggles have fought wars and established their own territories.

"However, none of this affected us because we did not live amongst them. We have created new cities for our growing population in different places. We care not for what Muggles call countries because we are all people living under the same authority. That is how my people have survived for so long, unlike the ignoramuses that decided that Muggles presented no threats," she narrated, capturing the attention of all present.

"Why are Muggles a threat?" Draco asked and Harry sighed. The boy still seemed ignorant about the Muggle world.

"We number millions all around the world, but they number in the billions. They outnumber us and, if that wasn't enough, they have created lethal weapons that we are unable to fight against," Hwasa said, but the looks many were giving her almost made her sigh.

"They're Muggles," Sirius stated, directing an incredulous look at the girl. Harry wished aunt Eleadora was present to control him.

"Indeed they are, but their lack of magic only made them more creative in their ways of assassinating each other... In 1945, they were fighting another war. We didn't care about their conflict, which was a terrible mistake on our side. A cruel Muggle country created one of the most disgusting weapons of mass destruction; it is called a nuclear bomb. On August sixth, one was sent to the city of Hiroshima. Around a hundred thousand people were killed in less than a minute and even more were injured," she described in a soft voice. Her pain could be almost felt, and no one talked. "Just three days later, they released the same atrocity on the city of Nagasaki, where one of our cities was. A powerful and brave Yosei named Sakura felt the thing coming and knew she wouldn't be able to transport all the children away to safety.

"She did the next best thing. With her unique magic, she gathered all the young children... She sacrificed her magic and life to protect them. No one else in the city was spared. Many of the Yosei went to look for survivors and found the children. However, the city was deemed the place too polluted to be habitable by a substance they did not recognize. Only seventeen years ago, and with many cleansing rituals, a new city was built. It's named Sakura in honour of the brave Yosei. In that short time it has become one of the empire's jewels." Hwasa ended her narration with a wistful smile; it was obvious the event had left a deep scar in the people from the country. "If you'll excuse me, I've lost my appetite," she muttered and left the room.

Harry watched the girl leave with a heavy sigh. He stood up and glared at Sirius with all his might; if the idiot had read a bit of history, as he almost begged him to do in order not to offend the girl and cause an accidental war, none of this would have happened.

"I hope you understand what you've done, Sirius. I've asked you to read a little about their history for years. This is the reason Aunt Eleadora never allows you to be in the same room as her for long. Be thankful that she and Elizabeth went out," he chastised the man with a sneer and left the room.

He almost panicked when he couldn't see the girl. He was about to ask one of his elves when he heard steps from the living room. He walked as fast as he could in that direction. Her slow steps allowed him to catch up to her and compose himself. She opened the main door and he followed, walking in silence until they reached a place to sit beside the lake. She sat down and observed the water. Her expressionless face made him want to smack Sirius.

"I apologize," he told her in a gentle tone that did not disrupt the tranquil atmosphere.

"You don't have to. I overreacted," she murmured. Her face softened but it did nothing to calm his growing anger.

"You didn't... Your grandfather told me what happened," he told her and she sighed.

"I still should have controlled myself better."

"Perhaps, but I don't think I would be able to do much better if I talked about my mother."

"So the old man did tell you," she huffed. "He has a loose tongue."

"That he does, but it was his way of establishing a rapport - a questionable method, if you ask me." He tried to joke, but the diminutive smile did not please him.

"I wish she hadn't offered herself to be one of the people who cleansed the place," she whispered. He almost panicked when he noticed he had no idea of how should he answer. After a few moments of silence, he sighed in defeat.

"I still remember that night..." he sighed, having the irrational need of comforting the girl by sharing his own experience, something he considered idiotic and yet that did not deter him from continuing to talk. "Not much, but enough to haunt me some nights. I remember her begging for my life, not hers... He gave her two opportunities to leave, but she took none. She decided to die in order to protect me.

"I was unable to remember this until a Dementor attack at school; before that, my mother was a mere concept. When I arrived in this world, she turned into someone I admired, but when I remembered, it was the moment I loved her. It must be even harder for you to have loved your mother from a young age and then lose her," he whispered to her. For the first time, a female he had seen as an untameable force of nature looked vulnerable, and that unsettled him.

"I remember how sick she was; all the radiation she and the others had absorbed was lethal. She would have lived longer if she hadn't had me, but she chose to... I miss her," she murmured. Unshed tears shone in her eyes; her lower lip quivered slightly.

Harry put an arm around her, allowing her head to rest on his chest. Her silent tears were worse than any kind of sobbing, because she did not allow herself to grieve the way she needed and he understood that frustrating feeling. The knowledge that she was hurting and that he was unable to help her left him feeling impotent. Somehow, he had come to care about the rambunctious girl that acted like his sister, but who had gone through far too much. He admired her resilience because, while he had been able to surpass his difficulties, that childlike innocence Elizabeth and Hwasa possessed had not survived. She cried until there were no more tears and they remained in silence.

"Every time you or grandfather speaks about your mother, I wish I could have met her... I'm sure my mother and yours would have been good friends," she told him, a small smile gracing her lips.

"Perhaps..." he answered back.

They stayed in that spot until Elizabeth came looking for them. Her eyes were burning and he would have felt pity for the idiot if he did not deserve what the girls were planning for him. Perhaps they would lock him in a room with that vicious tiger of hers or force him to do one of those things he would rather not talk about... The possibilities were endless.

---

Harry Potter and his friends were back at school and, while he was used to the stares his fame brought, the admiring looks put him on edge. The Guild was impressed by how much their social standing in school had changed since the day of the attack in Hogsmeade. While, before, they had been respected, there had also been the obvious resentment at their success living within most of the students. Now, though, there was real admiration and even most of the jealousy had subsided.

The Slytherins' dedication when following his rules had also worked. Now, the house was one of the most praised in the school. Harry thought it would be the perfect moment to look for the final member they needed to complete the Guild and at last form the Hogwarts Court. However, Luna did not agree, stating that it was not time. The only response he could muster was a sigh; he trusted the girl with his life, but sometimes he wished she had a more solid answer.

Following Ragnok's advice, he had started practicing the control of Fiendfyre in the Chamber of Secrets and forcing his friends to follow his example. He noticed how pliable his magic had become after the ritual. He had needed to go through the process of relearning all the spells because he overpowered them, a fact that pleased and peeved him in equal measure. All the Guild were inspired by his hard work and began training even more. Those had been hard months of arduous practice, and most of the time they slept in their headquarters. Professor Flitwick was more focused than ever, pushing them to their limits. However, none of them faltered and they kept practicing. He would never forget how, after weeks of being constantly tense, Luna relaxed at last. It seemed they were doing something right and had somehow managed to change the future.

---

5th of June, Great Hall, Hogwarts

Albus Dumbledore was observing his students from his throne-like place at the teachers' table. The hall was decorated in green and silver, which meant that, once again, Slytherin had won the House Cup. However, unlike in previous years, all the other houses seemed to applaud them instead of showing open hostility. He looked at that table and sighed. Harry Potter was eating with his friends in that composed and regal way of his that reminded him of Dorea; her same uninterested and slightly disapproving expression was worn by her grandson.

The past year had been full of revelations, some of which he would rather not remember but which he was unable to erase from his mind. For example, the realization that he shared more characteristics with Voldemort than the chosen boy did; that day had changed his whole perception on how the world worked. For months, he had tried to deny it, observing the boy for any hint of Tom in him. He tried to fool himself by asking the other teachers what they thought about the boy in their usual monthly meeting and still he regretted opening that big mouth of his.

"Now that we are all here, I have a few questions about a particular group of students," he announced at the beginning of the meeting, earning many curious glances and a few suspicious glares that he ignored. "Harry Potter and his friends are good students as far as you have all told me, but I need to know how well. Madam Marchbanks is adding a few new subjects and professors next year; she needs to know if they will be able to keep up."

"I am so happy you asked, Albus. It's not every day that a teacher gets to brag about her brightest students," Bathsheba Babbling blurted with a bright smile. "Mister Potter is brilliant in Runes, but Mister George Weasley already shows the makings of a true master in the subject, despite my doubts in accepting him last year. I've never had a group as applied as that group of friends; they are years beyond their curriculum and I fear that, before they graduate, there will be nothing left for me to teach them," she lamented, but her glowing smile transmitted how proud she was.

"I have to agree with Bathsheba," Septima Vector said. "Mister Nott has a marvellous talent for my subject and I have never seen a student understanding my most complicated lessons as if they were the simplest puzzles like Mister Potter."

"While most of my students had little to no knowledge on my subject, that group of students is years beyond what school will be able to teach them," Thomas Cumberbatch, the new History professor, announced.

"Those students weren't born with amazing skills; they worked hard to earn them. I have never seen students so dedicated to their studies and practice. I believe we all agree that, even if they find the subject complicated, they will work hard to, not only understand, but to excel in it," Remus explained and the others nodded. The man had just killed Dumbledore's information influx.

"I think we all agree that they will be able to take whatever Griselda throws their way. As a matter of fact, she's already talking with them to see which classes will be the first ones to be added, although the older years worry me more, because few have the motivation to work the extra hours required to be part of a new class," Minerva said and he sighed.

"Indeed. I gave Mister Potter and his friends the opportunity to take a more advanced curriculum. So far, none of the other students have been able to keep up. I had to force Miss Granger to drop it because the girl looked on the verge of a mental breakdown," Filius explained and many others nodded.

"Precisely. She wanted to take all the electives and, for a while, I considered giving her a time turner. However, I decided not to and I don't regret my decision. She's unable to establish her priorities. It's quite sad that such a promising witch loses herself trying to compete with another student," Minerva sighed.

"Anyway, do you think it is wise to allow Mister Potter to take those new subjects? It seems he is too busy with the previous ones. Besides, the boy is getting too prideful about the knowledge that he is better than his fellow classmates," he explained, but seeing Minerva getting ready to give him a stern and painful scolding made him regret phrasing it that way.

"What gave you that idea, Albus? While he isn't the humblest person I know, he understands the limits of his abilities better than most adults. He has never bragged about his constant monopoly of the position of top of the year to anyone. He admits without hesitation that there are people within his group of friends who are better than him at certain things. He is not prideful. Do not forget that I met you when you were still a teen and, when you were older than him, you had twice the ego and none of his common sense," Filius rebuked and he almost groaned.

"I apologize. I did not mean to imply that," he said with a gentle smile.

"But you did, Albus. You are Chief Warlock and you want me to believe you are not able to phrase things well? We all told you what we think. I believe that any further discussion needs Griselda to be present. If you'll excuse me, I've had a long day," he announced and walked out of the room.

Most of the teachers followed him, many scowling at the headmaster. Remus in particular seemed angry at him, but in the end it did not affect him as much. The man was no longer loyal to him and, no matter what he did, the only result of trying to get into his good graces only seemed to push him away. Minerva was glaring at him, and he thanked Merlin that Severus decided to stay back because only that way she would not chew him out.

"That is enough. I'm tired of you always trying to interfere in my students' life because of some fixation you have with the boy. I've allowed it so far, but this ends today, Albus. How dare you talk with such distrust about a child? Are you so reminded of your mistakes that you're trying to ensure he commits none? While he is James' son, he has none of his irresponsibility, but he does possess all of Lily's good sense. I know you are trying to hold him back - I have no idea why - but I will tell you this: continue harassing my student and I will fight you for the position that you are holding right now. After all your mistakes, perhaps it is time for you to retire," she promised and left the room.

"Now you understand my frustration. I am unable to talk about the brat if I don't want to be chewed out," Severus muttered with a satisfied smirk.

"Do you think I'm wrong?" he asked, fearing the answer.

"Yes. While I don't like Potter, I admit the brat is more like Lily than his father. He is confident, not prideful," the man grumbled. His pained expression showed how much he would rather deny that fact.

"So I was wrong all along..." he muttered and took out another bottle of firewhisky. Perhaps it would have been better if he had remained silent.

It had been a harsh week; sleep eluded him and Minerva was still furious with him. After his declaration, Filius had undermined respect the other professors had for him. There would be time to earn it back, he decided. For months, he had been pushing for the Triwizard Tournament to be reinstated and it was about to become a reality. Perhaps it was true that the boy was not a replica of Tom Riddle, but there were still possibilities of him going dark. Besides, he needed to find a way of luring Voldemort out of his hiding place. He had no idea what Madam Bones was doing to do to deal with the man, but he knew her methods would be brutal. No more lives needed to be taken. Next year would be essential for his plans and few would understand his actions, but it was for the greater good.