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Chapter 21 The Bloodlines

Ginny turned over violently, tarring the bed sheets away from Harry as she rolled right off of the edge of the bed. The swift motion combined with the loud thump of Ginny's body hitting the floor, her scream and the sudden breeziness of the room immediately woke Harry. He clambered to the edge of the bed and looked down at Ginny on the floor. Any other time this may have struck him as funny but Ginny was lying on the ground her eyes plastered wide open, her mouth still agape as if she wanted to continue screaming and sweat running down her forehead.

Harry levitated her back to his side and held her tightly with stroking her hair. He reached out with his mind to see what the cause of Ginny's distress was but quickly found it was everything. The pressure of the war, the knowledge that George had nearly died, Voldemort finding out that they were married and abducting her. Her mind was a swelling emotional pool that she was not containing very well.

"Ginny, I think you need to learn Occlumency," Harry suggested in a quiet voice.

"You reading my mind again, Potter?" she asked wearily.

"Would you have preferred to try and explain to me what's going on?"

She quickly shook her head. "I don't think I can. Just go find the root for me, will you?"

Harry sighed as he brought her head closer to his chest. "I would take it all away from you if I could, sweetheart."

"I know, Harry."

He knew he should try to comfort her beyond holding her so he reminded her of the good that had come from the day. "George is doing as well as can be expected right now and Madam Pomfrey thinks he's going to be fine," he reminded her of what Hogwarts Matron had told them before they left the infirmary just hours ago. George had been hit with a cutting curse while his mouth was open and it had done a good deal of damage to his throat and lungs. He'd nearly drowned in his own blood but thankfully Harry had gotten him back to Hogwarts in time to give him a fighting chance.

"It's not that he's all right," she whispered into the flesh of his chest. "I know he's going to be okay now, but he almost wasn't. I don't think I can lose another brother. Mum's gone and Percy… it's just all so painful."

"I know," he assured her. "I feel it too, Gin. I can't know what you feel about losing your mum and brother but I… I caused their deaths, I killed Percy and if I didn't love your mum as my own she'd be alive still."

His voice was just above a whisper as he closed his eyes and tried to fight back the image of Percy killing his own mother and then Harry's angry driving him to murder. But as hard as he fought it, the image returned to him and he relived the moment.

Percy didn't even have to be ordered, he just did it on his own. "Avada Kedavra!"

"NO!" Harry couldn't race away from the altar fast enough. Her limp body hit the ground and all he could do was scoop her into his arms. Tears burned in his eyes and an unuttered sobbed choked his throat. He knew the anger that Snape spoke of now. It wasn't his contempt towards Voldemort; it was raw and real and Harry couldn't control it.

His eyes flashed as he looked up at Percy. Percy looked amused and this fuelled Harry's anger further. His last bit of restraint failed as he clutched Mrs. Weasley tighter. "Hesek."

Percy grabbed his throat as it slit from ear to ear but his hands did nothing to stop the blood that was gushing out. Harry watched as he dropped to his knees and fell over dead.

"Yes, that's it," Voldemort laughed, amused at Harry doing murder.

Ginny shuttered in Harry's embrace and he felt her tears wetting his skin. With horror, Harry realized that Ginny had seen his memory, that somehow he'd shared it with her.

"I'm sorry," he apologized knowing that it didn't help her state of mind at the moment.

"No, don't," she begged. "I think I've needed to see that for a very long time. I needed to know exactly what happened."

Harry just nodded as he planted a kiss on the top of her head. "How I wish I could go back to that day, Ginny. Save your mum, knock some sense into Percy and never restore Crouch's soul."

"You can't though." Ginny tipped her head up and looked into her husband's eyes. "We destroyed all of the time turners."

Smiles pulled at both of their lips before they connected in a loving kiss.

"Well, something good did come out of tonight," Harry told her.

Ginny looked absolutely puzzled at his assessment. The day had been disastrous from most accounts. Sure, Voldemort hadn't gotten control of the Ministry but he'd done plenty of damage trying to and he'd found out that Harry and Ginny were married.

"Exactly," Harry nodded at the fleeting thought in Ginny's mind. "He knows so there is no reason for us to hide it from our family any longer. I don't think we should run an ad in the Prophet but I think we should tell your dad and brothers."

Ginny's eyes lit up. "You're right, but I do want to wait until George is better. I don't know how many shocks they can take at one time."

"We'll tell them as soon as you're ready."

Ginny curled her head back into Harry's chest. "Thank you, Harry."

Five days later

Hermione paced the study impatiently as Harry and Ginny entered the room. Ron, Neville and Luna were already present and Hermione's impatience at Harry's tardiness was apparent on her face. He and Ginny went over to the couch and took a seat as Hermione sealed the doors and placed an Imperturbable Charm on them.

"Well, I wanted to get together this morning because so much has happened in the past few days," Hermione rushed. "St. Mungo's is almost ready to move patients back; the Ministry has repaired the Atrium and a mass funeral was held yesterday for everyone for passed in the battle at the Ministry."

"Thanks for attending," Harry said to Hermione then looked at Luna. "I appreciate that you two did that."

"You couldn't go, Harry," Luna told him as she folded her legs underneath her and sat on the floor. "We wouldn't Voldemort to strike again at a funeral."

"Sick bastard would probably find that funny," Ron grumbled.

"No doubt," Hermione agreed then looked at Neville. "Why don't you catch us up on the progress at St. Mungo's, Neville?"

Neville stood from his seated position and began speaking of all of the repairs done to the hospital and the new wards that Bill and the goblins had erected on the hospital. They anticipated that it would be ready within two days. The healers were preparing to transport patients from Hogwarts back to St. Mungo's slowly over a four day period to make sure the wards were adequate against invasion or attack.

When Neville took his seat all eyes fell on Hermione again as she picked up her pace.

"You all know that I've been researching the bloodlines of the founders—"

"You're still doing that?" Ron asked with shock in his voice. "I thought you'd put it to the side with everything that was going on."

Ginny looked curiously at her brother. "When have you ever known Hermione to put research to the side, Ron?"

He just shrugged as his answer.

"Anyways," Hermione said hurriedly so she could pick up the conversation. "It has taken me so long because of everything that is going on but also because we are talking about four people who procreated over a thousand years ago. That's a lot of potential descendants."

She pivoted quickly and went to the desk, picking up a book that lay open there. "I decided to concentrate on only the magical descendants but that proved to be difficult because sometimes magic pops back up after skipping many generations."

Her eyes fell on Harry as she said this. "Harry's family is a perfect example of that."

"How do you mean?" he asked her. "We all know that my dad was a pureblood."

"Yes, but we didn't know that your mother wasn't exactly a Muggle," she told him with a nod of her head. "Your mother is a descendant from Salazar Slytherin's great, great granddaughter, who was a squib and disowned from the family. She never produced another magical heir until Lily Evans was born eight hundred and thirty years later."

"Great," Harry sighed. "You're telling me I'm related to Tom?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably on her feet as she looked to the floor. "I'm sorry, Harry… but almost all old wizarding families are related in some way."

"So we're all descendants of the founders then?" Neville asked.

"Not by any means," Hermione corrected him. "There are actually very few direct descendants of the founders left. I'd say twelve to fifteen based on the records that I've found. And there are only two dual descendants left."

"Harry's one of them," Ron said instantly. "You've got to be, Harry."

Before Harry could answer Hermione spoke up again. "Yes, you are, Harry. Your mother was a descendant of Slytherin and your father was a descendant of Godric Gryffindor."

Harry took this news with a grain of salt. If he were going to guess which two founders he descended from those were the two he'd pick. He was a Parseltongue and he'd pulled Gryffindor's sword out of the sorting hat in his second year. They were the most logical choices to him.

"Who is the other?"

"Barty Crouch, Jr." Hermione told him. "He is a descendant of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw."

"Of course," Harry said as he stood. "That was why Voldemort wanted his soul returned. That was why he wanted me to retrieve the Eye of Isis. He must have believed that only Crouch and I could wield the power of a god. He assumed it because of our lineage."

"But he was wrong," Luna added. "You're being able to wield that power had to do with you and your heart, not the blood that follows in your veins. I should think that an ancient god or goddess would only bestow their powers upon someone they felt worthy to use them."

"I can't see Crouch as worthy," Neville said bitterly.

Harry just looked from Hermione to Neville. "His time will come, Neville, and I feel confident when it does that you will be the one to deliver his comeuppance." Neville nodded curtly at that, very satisfied with Harry's unspoken promise.

Harry shifted his eyes back to Hermione. "What good does this information do us?"

"Well, I think that if we have direct descendants from the four founders present when your final confrontation with Voldemort comes, it will give us a great advantage," Hermione told Harry. "And lucky for you three of us are direct descendants of the four founders."

"Who?" asked Ron.

"Harry is of Slytherin and Gryffindor," she answered.

"We know that already," Ginny said with a tint of impatience in her voice. "Who in this room is a descendant of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff?"

Hermione took a deep breath as she looked to Neville. "The Longbottom family tree can be traced back eleven generations to Helga Hufflepuff, and remember, you are using her wand now."

"Me?" he asked pointing at himself. "A direct descendant of Hufflepuff? Then why am I a Gryffindor?"

"Because you are brave and noble," Luna replied to him. "I couldn't imagine you in any other house. Look around this room, Neville and tell me who surrounds you," she requested as she did the very thing she asked. "Five Gryffindors and a girl from Ravenclaw that has never been quite sure why she was sorted there."

"Perhaps we know why you were sorted there now," Ron said suddenly.

"No," Luna shook her head at him. "I'm not a descendant of any of the founders. All four of my grandparents were Muggle-born."

"But all magical right?" Ginny asked.

Luna nodded. "But I'm not an heir to Rowena Ravenclaw," her voice was filled with its usual airiness as she looked upon Hermione. "I'd be willing to bet that Hermione is Rowena's heir."

With that everyone was looking at Hermione again. Hermione just slowly nodded her head affirming what Luna had said. "My family history is some what similar to Lily Evans but there was a magical heir before me. She lived over five hundred years ago."

"Why aren't you in Ravenclaw?" Ginny sniggered at Hermione.

"Because I asked the sorting hat to put me in Gryffindor," she told Ginny. "From what I'd read before getting to Hogwarts I really wanted to be a Gryffindor. And in the end the hat always gives you want you want… isn't that right, Harry?" she looked pointedly at him.

He bobbed his head slowly in agreement at her. "The sorting hat was pretty adamant about placing me in Slytherin. I begged it not to. I was desperate to be anything but a Slytherin."

"It was adamant not only because of your traits but because Godric Gryffindor asked the hat to make sure that all descendants of Slytherin were placed there," Hermione informed him. "He wanted to make sure that no one with Slytherin's blood ever ended up in his house."

"And how do you know that?" Ginny wondered.

"I asked the hat," she admitted. "I've been having conversations with Eruditio for some time now. He told me a good deal about the history of the school itself and how he sorts. He also told me of all of our sortings." She looked again at Harry. "He really wanted to put you in Slytherin… to obey his master but he bent to your will when he saw that you had as much of Gryffindor in you as Slytherin. He just hoped that all would be well and he is pleased with you, Harry."

She looked next at Ginny. "He also wanted to put you in Slytherin but he'd never placed a Weasley anywhere but Gryffindor and he felt you would not thrive in Slytherin without your family and so he decided on Gryffindor for you."

Her eyes shifted to Ron. "You, there were no other choices. Eruditio told me he saw your courage shining through and his decision was made the moment he put the hat on your head."

"And me?" Neville asked. "Why did I go to Gryffindor?"

"For the same reasons Luna spoke of," Hermione said proudly. "Eruditio admitted it was a difficult choice but he saw deep within your heart and your mind and knew your courage and bravery were going to be monumentally important in turning you into the man you were meant to become. He was afraid placing you in Hufflepuff may hinder that.

"You Luna," she said calling out to Luna, who was gazing at the curtains, "Were a very difficult choice. He admitted to me that he saw you in all the houses and in none at all. You were a case that he would have liked the opportunity to wait a bit longer on and see how you matured. He placed you in Ravenclaw because the prominent bit of information he picked up on you was that you are so very intelligent."

They sat in silence for a few moments as they each soaked in what Hermione had shared with them about their own sortings and the revelation that Harry was not the only descendant of the founders sitting in the room.

"Hermione," Harry called her out of her thoughtful trance, "is there a way to call all of the descendants of the founders?"

"How do you mean?" she asked for clarification.

"I mean when we face him next time, can you summon all of the descendants?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment but didn't get a chance to answer before Luna did. "That could be quite dangerous, Harry. Just think, we'd be calling all founder descendants and there are no guarantees of their loyalty, or that they're even magical. What if you called twelve people to you, half of them sided with Voldemort and another few were Squibs?"

"She's got an excellent point," Ginny agreed. "I don't think we could risk summoning a person that we may have to fight or protect. We've got what we need right in this room."

"I agree," Ron responded as he walked over to Hermione and put an arm around her. "When the time comes Neville and Hermione will need to help cover Harry."

"Perhaps even channel a bit of our power into him," Hermione added. "Are you okay with that, Neville?"

Neville nodded. "I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get rid of Voldemort, even if I die in the process. You all know that."

"You're winning," Draco whispered to Harry. "On top of the burns, that still haven't healed, he's had to face up to the fact that you split him from navel to neck."

"It wasn't quite that far," Harry corrected.

"Whatever," Draco waved him off. "It's beside the point. My point is that people are starting to talk and it isn't good for the Dark Lord."

"Defections?" Harry asked and Draco nodded. "Who I can I approach?"

Draco slipped a note under the table and Harry quickly shoved it in his pocket. "He hasn't said anything but I know he hears the talk. The loyal Death Eaters want him to do something big, something that gets the attention of everyone and invokes fear again. They want everyone to know that the Dark Lord is more powerful than you."

"That's coming into question?"

"Yes, you idiot! Haven't you been paying attention to what I've been saying?"

Harry just rolled his eyes. "Any idea who my rat is?" he asked changing the subject. Draco shook his head slowly. "You'd better go."

"Just don't get me killed, Potter."

"I'll do my best, Draco," Harry responded to him.

Harry watched him exited the pub then pulled the parchment from his pocket. He was disappointed with the two names that were on the list until he realized the names: Lucius Malfoy and Rabastan Lestrange. Harry ignited the parchment as he sat back in his seat and thought about what these two individuals could offer him. Malfoy would certainly know a great deal about Voldemort's comings and goings as a member of the inner circle, but Harry wondered how accurate Draco's information was. From everything he'd seen of Lucius Malfoy, the man was a loyal Death Eater. Harry couldn't even count the number of times that he personally dueled him.

And Rabastan Lestrange… something seemed out of order with this list. Would Lestrange truly be willing to defect when Harry had just killed his sister-in-law? Was Draco to be taken at his word any longer? Had Voldemort gotten to him?

The questions perplexed Harry a good deal and he couldn't sit still as he mulled it over. He too left the pub in Southern England and Apparated back to London. He walked the streets of Muggle London as he contemplated his next move. He really wanted to speak to someone about this but he'd promised Dumbledore that he would not reveal Draco's true intentions until the war was over. Anyone he consulted, including Ginny, would want to know where he'd gotten these two names and why on earth he'd think that Lucius Malfoy and Rabastan Lestrange would turn against their master.

After walking for about an hour, Harry Apparated back to the Leaky Cauldron and had a seat at the bar. His hood was pulled up over his head but Tom noticed him straight away when he came to get his order. Harry was thankful that the barman realized Harry intended to be as discreet as possible for this visit, and simply sat a Butterbeer in front of him and left without saying a word. It was only fifteen minutes later when Harry saw Tom head into the storeroom. As he went he shot Harry a look and nudge his head ever so slightly at him. Harry waited a few more minutes before getting down from his stool and creeping into the storeroom.

When he got there Tom was sitting on a couple of stacked boxes visibly shaking.

"What is it, Tom?" Harry asked immediately. "What happened?"

"I wish you was here an hour ago, Harry," he whispered.

"What happened?" he asked again.

"Death Eaters," Tom finally responded. "In here just as I arrived this morning. Asking all sorts of questions about my allegiance. It ain't nothing against you, Harry, but you know I have to be neutral."

"I've never asked you to side with me, Tom," Harry said truthfully. He came and went through the pub like some many others, and of course he'd been friendly with the barkeep when he was younger, but he'd never expected him to take a side. "Merchants have no business choosing. What's best for all of us is to try and keep every day business following."

"I said that," he whimpered. "I said 'I don't care what's going on, I just wanna run my pub, and it doesn't make no never mind to me just so I keep doing what I'm doing.'."

"And?"

"They gave me two days to declare my allegiance to," he paused as he looked around the room. "To You-Know-Who."

"And what threat did they leave you with?"

Tom just looked Harry dead in the eyes and swallowed so hard that Harry saw the man's Adam's apple drop down and bob back up. Harry just nodded in understanding.

"See if you'd have been here then they would have never showed themselves. Everyone knows not to mess with you. I heard you hurt him bad a few times now. There's a lot of talk in here."

"I know." Harry knew that much was true. He understood perfectly why Dumbledore appreciated his brother's occupation in Hogsmeade. Abeforth was able to keep his ear to the ground and not only keep track of the students but also all Hogsmeade business. It was dead useful.

"What can I do for you?" Harry wanted to know. "I can get you out of here…"

"Like you did Mr. Ollivander?" Harry scowled at the question. "Come on, Harry, no one's scene hid nor hair of the wand maker since the attack on Diagon Alley four months ago. You were the last one seen with him. It makes sense to me that you have him stuffed away somewhere."

Harry rubbed his chin as he contemplated the situation he was in. The day's events seemed all too convenient, and while convenient was nice from time to time, Harry couldn't help but feel that he was being manipulated by someone.

"I've got to be honest with you, Tom, I'm a bit uncomfortable with where this conversation is heading," Harry admitted. "I feel like you're trying to extract information from me for a purpose other than self satisfaction." He looked the man over again; a thin line of sweat covered his upper lip and his nostrils flared with each breath he took but his eyes looked blissfully clear. "You don't seem to be under the Imperious Curse, so why don't you tell me what's really going on?"

Harry no sooner asked that question than four figures appeared in the room. "You've done well, Tom," a cold voice said as he emerged from the shadows. "You will find your family as you left them."

Tom said nothing as he scurried from the room. His eyes were cast downwards so he wouldn't have to look at Harry as he made his way out.

Harry glanced at the position of those surrounding him. They strategically placed themselves to encase him. His next thought fell to his wands and his tattoo.

"Harry Potter," the cool voice spoken again.

"Lucius Malfoy," Harry responded equally as cool as he realized who it was. "Do I have the pleasure of your son's company as well?" he asked as he looked to the shortest figure to his right. The hood bobbed and Harry took that as a yes. "And let me guess," he continued as he looked to his left. "Rabastan Lestrange?" Another small nod. "And an old professor of mine, Romulus Lupin."

Malfoy pulled his hood back as he stepped closer to Harry. "It's almost impressive how far you've come, Potter."

"Well, that's damn near a compliment coming from Voldemort's left hand," Harry laughed.

Malfoy hissed. "You dare speak his name so casually. Have you learned nothing boy?"

"I've learned a great deal," Harry responded. "And each of you has borne witness and given testament to what I've learned." He looked around again, feeling most uncomfortable with Lupin standing behind him. "Why don't you stand where I can see you, Professor?" he requested. "I have this thing about people cursing me in the back."

"And what thing would that be?" Lupin asked.

"I don't like it," Harry answered honestly as he whipped around and pointed a wand at his former teacher. "Get next to Malfoy where I can see you properly."

"We're giving orders here," Malfoy said.

Harry wiped his arm around and all four wands flew at him. "No, I'm giving orders here and since the four of you have allowed me to disarm you, why don't you stand in front of me and tell me what you want?"

They all nodded reluctantly and did as Harry asked. He did not return their wands to them as they stood in a line before him.

Lucius Malfoy lowered his hood. "Regardless of my personal beliefs," he sneered. "It would seem that you have a clear upper hand in this conflict." He paused apparently giving Harry an opportunity to speak but Harry chose to remain silent. He wanted to hear what Malfoy had to say. "While I firmly believe that our pureblood ways should be reaffirmed and I not willing to lose all that I have in a fruitless cause."

Harry chuckled slightly. "So you're more concerned for your arse than your ideals?"

"It is better to have freedom than to rot or die," he responded. "When all is said and done, I have every intention of continuing my life. And as I see it that means I must now make a peace offering with you."

"If you master finds out you have this point of view or this meeting he will kill you."

"Don't you think that I know this, Potter?" Malfoy asked bitterly. "But I believe that everyone but the Dark Lord recognizes that you have the upper hand on him. I'm not saying I believe you powerful enough to kill him… that would be highly improbable, but nonetheless, I don't foresee our cause being completely successful at this time."

"Are you telling me you're going to try again?" Harry had to know. "Because if you are you already have my answer."

"I will never stop believing that purebloods are superior," he stated. "Because it is the truth, but I will stay out of your way. You have my word on that."

Harry nodded his head as he thought on this for a moment. He couldn't really change Malfoy's beliefs but if he agreed to stay out of Harry's way for the rest of his life then Malfoy's information would be more than valuable.

"I have one other condition from you, Mr. Malfoy," Harry said and Malfoy waited to hear it. "You will also stay out of Hermione Granger's life."

He tipped his head in agreement at Harry. "You have my word."

Harry looked at Draco. "I assume your father speaks for you as well, Draco?"

"My father speaks for my family," he responded. "I will honor his oath to you as well."

Harry looked to Lestrange. "And what of you? I've murdered your sister-in-law, why should I believe that you are here for anything other than revenge?"

"I could care less for that piece of trash," Lestrange said quickly. "As far as I'm concerned you did my family a favor by ridding of us of the Dark Lord's whore. She never cared for my brother, just his blood and name."

"Couldn't the same be said for Narcissa Black?" Harry asked pointedly as his eyes turned back to Malfoy.

"As I've already said," Malfoy responded. "I will never stop believing in the purity of blood, and my wife has never joined the ranks of the Dark Lord's servants. Her involvement is not in question."

"Fair enough," he agreed with Malfoy then turned his attention back to Lestrange. "You tortured Neville Longbottom's parents into insanity. Neville is my left hand and one of my best mates."

He just shrugged. "That was many years ago and if you chose to hold that in your decision that is your right, but I feel I should warn you that it would seem foolish to me for you to do so. I can provide valuable information to you."

"And you Lupin," he asked the former professor. "I've never been able to trust you. Why should I begin now?"

"What do you mean you've never been able to trust me? I taught you for a year."

"Yes, but in one of our very first private lessons I used Legilimency on you and knew you were not to be trusted."

Lupin smiled slightly. "That explains why I was not given my job back this year. The Dark Lord was most displeased that I did not return to my post at Hogwarts."

"I'm sure he got over it."

Harry surveyed the men again as he considered this. They could each be very helpful and Harry knew every advantage he had was important.

"I want one thing from you first," he told them. "I have a spy in my midst. Tell me who it is?"

The four men looked at each other and it was Lestrange that spoke. "While I do not know the identity of this individual, I do know that there is a leak in your organization and it would appear that it is coming from a person who is an Animagus because they seem to be sitting in on your private meetings with your inner circle."

Harry's mind spun through the Order members trying desperately to identify who was an Animagus aside from Professor McGonagall, or if he'd ever seen an animal, rodent or insect in the room when he was speaking to the Order or the Army. He'd have to deal with it when he got back to Grimmauld Place though. Right now he needed to make a decision regarding the men standing before him.

"I will need a bit of time and more of an olive branch from you before I make my decision," he told them finally. "And before you go, we'd better put on a show of this storeroom or Voldemort," they all winced at hearing Harry use his name, "will be suspicious."

"How much more of an olive branch do you need, Potter?" Lestrange asked.

"The name of my leak or Voldemort's next move," he answered as he turned his wand on the stacked boxes and began pushing them to the side, cracking bottles and spilling Tom's merchandise. "You have forty-eight hours."

It was the last thing he said before dropping theirs wands to the floor and Disapparating away.

A/N – I realized as I was writing this chapter that I made a mistake in chapter 15. Neville and Ron's second wands got revered. Sorry about that. Ron uses Gryffindor's wand and Neville uses Hufflepuff's.

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