A.N.: I'm back! I was having a hard time habituating to my day to day routine instead of the Holiday extravaganza (aka lazing around), but I managed to gather enough energy to upload the chapter. Also, my beta is no longer available because of time/personal reasons, so if someone could be so kind as to tell me if you know of someone available I would be thankful.
Enjoy the chapter!
Harry Potter woke up feeling strangely tired. He rubbed his crusty eyes and looked around his room in an effort to orient himself. The drapes were shut, so he had no idea what hour it was but he hoped that he had not missed his appointment with Ragnok. With heavy steps, he walked towards the shower.
It was strange, he decided, to feel so drained yet relaxed. He barely had the energy to get dressed, but the constant stress that had been tormenting him for the last months had disappeared. He felt light, almost giddy with a strange sense of calmness that made him want to stay in his room all day long. However, he had things to do.
Harry walked towards the dining room in hopes of finding someone in the house and not wanting to bother any of his elves. Much to his relief, breakfast was still being served, though a few people were missing.
"Harry!" Theo greeted enthusiastically.
"Morning."
"Hey, are you okay? You're always the first one to be up," Hestia commented, trying to look casual, but her pinched eyebrows betraying her worry.
"I talked with Sirius until late. Where's Fleur?"
"She went out with Lizzy and aunt Eleadora, something about showing her around," a bleary-eyed Terrence muttered.
Harry allowed the conversations to flow around, deciding to focus on eating his breakfast instead. Though he was entertained by Flora stealing Terrence's pancakes and the boy looking confused every time he tried to grab food from his empty plate. It was a calm meal that only served to soothe him further.
"Good morning master!"
The familiar voice made Harry look to the side. Ella was smiling at him, lifting slightly the tray of cookies she was carrying.
"I just finished baking this for you, try one!"
Harry resisted the urge to grimace at the offer. During his youth, he had a limited, not to say non-existent access to treats, which perhaps caused his dislike for them. The scent of ginger hit him when he reluctantly raised one, giving Ella a pained smile that turned more genuine at the memories that this particular scent brought.
Since he met Elizabeth, she had loved these cookies so he always managed to buy her a few from a nearby bakery during the holidays. She would always try to share, however, he enjoyed seeing her happy much more than he wanted to try one so he rejected her offers. It was strange to have someone baking them only for him, it almost felt wrong. He noticed Ella's expectant gaze and took a tentative bite.
It was not bad, he decided. Actually, it was pretty good. It was not overly sweet and the ginger gave a pleasant bite to the treat.
"I really like it," he told his short friend, who beamed at him.
"I am so glad! I worked so hard in this recipe because Master dislikes sweets," Ella said, trying to hide her tearing eyes.
"Thank you, Ella."
Harry smiled at his loyal friend, who left after giving him a wide smile. He took a moment to enjoy his last minutes of peace before facing his responsibilities.
Ragnok was reading the report that Fogs had handed him. Considering the fact that this was the full report and not the watered-down version that had been given to the Minister, he could announce with a certain degree of pride that this was the second time reading the blasted thing. Sleep is for the weak! A phrase he liked to repeat whenever he was forced to forgo his invaluable slumber. Fortunately, goblins needed fewer hours of rest than humans. Otherwise, he shuddered at how hard his already laborious work would become.
He shook his head and took another sip of his beverage to clear his mind. The results of the analysis of Hogwarts were quite unnerving, to say the least. Basically, the castle was defenceless against any kind of attack. The wards that once made the place famous would not even be able to stop an idiotic troll! If that was not enough, there were more disquieting news. The castle itself was a time bomb.
Ragnok knew that magic was sentient, however, not even he knew to what degree. Hogwarts had been enchanted to protect the students, but what happens when all the capability to protect was taken away from her, by either time or ignorance? Simple, magic tried to compensate by overcharging the rune stones, which in turn caused the magic to be unstable. That was the same reason why the stairs would move, taking the students to a random location instead of their destination, disregarding their safety in the process. Also, the reason why so many incidents took place inside the castle. Sooner rather than later, the magic would be so unstable that the castle would not be able to differentiate between friend and foe. No student would ever be safe inside Hogwarts. Fortunately, there was still time to fix the situation. Unfortunately, that was not his main concern.
There was something in the Forbidden Forest. Something dangerous enough to cause the inherent magic of the place to turn violent. This is what really worried Ragnok. What could have ever caused gentle Mother Magic to become violent? Decisions need to be taken soon because, whatever it was, it was lethal.
He was snapped out of his thoughts when someone knocked on his door, pushing it open. Was it nine already? Time flew by when one was frowning at headache-inducing information indeed. Ragnok nodded at Sharpclaw and was about to greet one of his favourite humans until he actually caught a glimpse of the boy. Harry Potter looked different... The boy's posture was far more relaxed, but that was not it. Aha! His young friend had finally stopped putting on his face that strange concoction that humans liked to wear in an effort to look less hideous. Poor creatures, they really were hopeless in aesthetical related matters.
"Hello, Ragnok, it is good to see you again."
"Harry, I would like to say the same, but most of your visits involve an awful amount of paperwork. So, how was your ball?" he asked, a smile spreading on his face when the boy grimaced.
"Sometimes, I really hate you," Harry grumbled, handing him a heavy sack of galleons. "One day, I'm going to find your informant inside the castle and win a bet for once."
"Someday. Hopefully, once you graduate," Ragnok retorted, tossing the bag into one of his drawers and gloating on his victory. "That is enough pleasantries, there are more pressing matters to discuss."
"I am guessing that the report was bad."
"Bad doesn't cover it, have a look." Ragnok handed the teenager the thick folder, only receiving an incredulous look in response. "There will be time for reading it later. Miss Adams gave me her personal recommendations on what should we take care of first, read this." He handed his client a single paper where the two most important matters were written and waited for the boy to finish reading.
"Ragnok, send a group of your best curse-breakers and trackers to the forest," Harry said, frowning at the folder he was leafing through. "You know that money will not be a problem."
"It will be done," he nodded, writing on his reliable black notebook. "I was wondering if you could perhaps donate some Madagascar Tree roots from your greenhouses, it will be offered to the centaurs as a sign of peace."
"You have carte blanche, no need to ask," Harry said absentmindedly, turning the pages of the thick folder until he reached the one he desired. "I think that whatever is hidden inside the forest may be related to that strange room I told you about."
"The one with fairies?"
"The same one. Luna believes that time-turners have to be destroyed so we have access to that room and she has not been wrong before."
"And what makes you think the forest and that room are related?"
"Look at this," the boy said, signalling the graphic of magical wavelength fluctuations in the forest. Ragnok was about to ask for more proof until Harry turned the pages and signalled a similar graphic belonging to the restricted section of the library, where that infamous fairy room had been found.
"Wait a minute," Ragnok muttered and his frown deepened as he frantically turned the pages of his own folder, finally finding the one he had been looking for. He did not know why his heart started beating faster when the graphic on the page mirrored the previous ones, though it signalled a different place of the castle.
"I have never been in this part of the castle, but we'll see what is hidden there," Harry said, at last, eyeing the notes that the analysts had written about the place. "I'm guessing that is one of the rooms that Hogwarts is trying to hide. What do you think, Ragnok?"
"...There have been rumours," he began explaining, still frowning at the folders. "These rumours have been circulating around for centuries. It is said that Hogwarts is not only used as a school, but also as some kind of vault for dangerous magical artefacts. Personally, I've never believed them because the Department of Mysteries is used for that purpose, but I'm no longer so sure."
"And we are back to the Department of Mysteries," Harry sighed, "everything seems to be leading us to that place. In any case, I will tell you whatever I find in that new room. When will the runemasters begin working in the Rune Stone Vaults?"
"Once the Holidays are over. They would have begun working sooner, but they are taking their time to examine all the runestones that you found. Good thing too, replacing all the stones that the castle needs would have cost a small fortune."
"Justin was the one who found them," the boy said, smiling a little. "I was just going to tell my elves to throw everything."
"Any other interesting things in those storage rooms?"
"Not really. There were many trinkets mixed with the stones, nothing interesting aside from a few old books."
"I guess that the only thing we can do is wait and see, Harry."
"So, how is business going?" At the question, Ragnok perked up. Talking about money always raised his spirits.
"Exceedingly well, actually. The international branch offices of Mirror Summons are about to pay their investment and the ones in the Asian Empire and the Tribes are already generating profit. Everything else is going fine and I would even suggest expanding the other businesses after a market analysis. However, I think it would be good starting in the countries that follow the same mentality as this one, that way we won't have much competition."
"We would need to talk about this with Ploutos and Miss Blair. If we expand ourselves we will need to find reliable employees and I don't feel comfortable with the idea of sending my elves abroad."
"That is fine, this is a decision that should be considered carefully because it will be a heavy investment. I will make an appointment for this."
"Thank you, Ragnok... How are the talks going with the dealer?"
The man couldn't stop a wide grin from appearing at the question. "He owes Gringotts more than only gold so he is keeping his head down. My cousins in the Tribes are only waiting for you to arrive in order to finish sealing the agreement."
"I am trusting on their discretion, or else I might be banned from entering the country again," the boy commented, amusement sparkling on his eyes.
"Goblins are loyal and you have already been declared a friend of our nation. Besides, my cousin is really happy with the small commission he is getting from the deal."
"So that is what they are calling it these days, in my times we called it fraud," the boy muttered with no real heat behind his words. "I guess that is all for today. Shame, I was ready to spend most of my day talking about the results of the analysis."
"Don't worry, once you read the full report we will have a meeting with all the staff," Ragnok commented, smirking at the boy's almost imperceptible grimace.
Harry was about to retort when he felt his communication crystal vibrate. Curious at the unexpected call, he pulsed his magic to answer.
"Harry, there was an attack in Saint Mungos, Sagrav is dead. Moody already closed off the hospital, no one can get in or out so I won't be arriving until late. You have to go right now to the classified archives of the Ministry. Tubby found what we were looking for but it can't be transported so find a way of copying it. I have a really bad feeling about this, please hurry up," Marcus almost yelled through the crystal and cut the communication.
Harry only frowned, there was definitely something going on.
"I guess you have to leave so the visit to your family Vault will be postponed. I will tell your elf about the upcoming meetings so don't worry about anything."
"Thank you, be ready for the twenty-seventh... Ragnok, I think it is time to send an especial group to contact the Gurg, we will need to keep them out of the conflict. I have a feeling that our problems are just beginning."
"I do too, Harry. I do too."
Ragnok could almost feel it in his bones. War. It was looming on the horizon, and this time, the Goblin Nation would make a stand. He took out his reliable black notebook and wrote two words that would soon be read by all his kin.
To arms.
Harry arrived at the Ministry Archives with a pop, holding Ares' hand. The boy looked around with wariness, frowning at his surroundings. The Classified archives looked as if a hurricane had vandalized the place... And to think that his elves had been organizing it. He reminded himself to get them some nice presents for Yule.
"Mister Harry!" Tubby exclaimed, appearing from behind a bookcase. "Hurry up sir, you have to see this."
Harry and Ares followed the anxious elf without saying a word. They felt a chill running through their spines when Tubby led them through a narrow space between bookcases that had no apparent exit. Then, Harry felt the rotten magic emanating from an antique silver bell that Marcus's elf levitated towards the wall, which had engraved the image of a witch and where the bell seemed to fit perfectly on her hands.
"Is that what I think it is?" Ares asked, frowning at the narrow entrance that the wall turned into.
"Aye, it's a Horcrux," the anxious elf muttered, not even looking back as she led them through the passage, illuminating the corridor with a ball of light that emanated from her palm. Harry wished that she would have led them through the dark.
The walls of the passage were filled with crude engravings, some places had deep scratches, and others seemed to be splattered with a maroon substance that had long ago dried. The place stunk of death. Something cracked under Harry's shoe and he looked own. A bone. A small bone weakened with time. The boy only clenched his jaw and tried to ignore his surroundings.
"What is this place, Tubby?" the teen asked, trying to even his tone in order not to scare the already anxious elf.
"The root of the Ministry. A month ago, we found an old journal that we sent to Gringotts to be cleansed. Master Marcus retrieved it a few days ago and began reading it. Apparently, it belonged to Ursa Black, one of the founders of the Ministry. The journal detailed how it was built and how many sacrifices were made in order to secure this place. You won't believe it, sir, it has the whole Alley, Ministry, and Hospital detailed... It also has Horcruxes, one for each of the founders."
Harry could only grit his teeth at the information. Should he be surprised? Of course not. Should he be disappointed? Not in the slightest, but he still was because one of his ancestors had been part of the founding families. Well, every family had a rotten apple somewhere.
"What else is in the place?" Harry asked, his gaze fixating on a maroon splatter that looked far too fresh for his comfort.
"The room is also used for rituals."
"And the only ones that can actually do rituals inside the Ministry are the unspeakables," he muttered, trying to push aside all the dark thoughts that were beginning to invade his mind.
Harry lifted his eyes when they stopped walking. A room that could only be described as plain was definitely not what he was expecting. However, one only had to pay attention to it to stop being plain. Three of the four walls were decorated with detailed blueprints, each wall dedicated to a different place. Floating in front of the blueprints were twenty-one different objects evenly distributed. Curious, considering there were only thirteen founding families. Yet, all of this paled compared to what was in the middle of the room.
The whole floor was coated with that maroon colour that Harry had begun to hate. A complicated inscription surrounding a pentagram was engraved in the middle of the room, where a grotesque body in an advanced state of decomposition was placed its centre. Or at least what was left of it.
Ares snapped his fingers and frowned, then he neared the pentagram and Harry placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, stopping him from advancing.
"Don't get close. Do you see that inscription? It is in the Pravus Runic Alphabet," he told Ares, who paled at his words. "None of you will get near it until I say so. Tubby, go and ask Rome for the best camera he can find, we will need to take pictures of the blueprints. Ares, bring aunt Eleadora, tell her this is an emergency and that she needs to bring all the necessary materials to break an Impuratus Circle."
Harry glared at the floor, trying to control his magic that was almost begging him to destroy the place. After taking a few deep breaths, he raised his wand and a small fire basilisk emerged from the tip, racing towards the levitating objects. He listened with a certain degree of satisfaction the wails that flooded the room when the fiendfyre consumed each one of the Horcruxes, but didn't allow that to distract him from his main objective.
Someone that worked inside the Ministry had access to the blasted place... No, that was not right. That person not only had access but actively feed the magic in the room through sacrifices. The question was who. His first option was an unspeakable, but that idea was promptly discarded. It had to be someone belonging to the administrative labour of the Ministry, someone who would not seem out of place while visiting the Archives, someone utterly deranged hiding under an unassuming facade.
There were far too many variables and even more possibilities. Fine by him, nothing had been easy in his life and this would not be an exception.
Harry would make sure to involve Auror Moody without revealing himself. Simple enough, a push here, a twist there and a little bit of a whisper campaign regarding a spy in the administrative body and it was done. The hard part would actually involve his little twist... Well, at least it would be fun.
He polished his plans even after his fire basilisk finished consuming the Horcruxes and the room went silent.
"Ah, young Harry, it has been a pleasure to have you here," the Emperor said, smiling at Harry, who returned the gesture.
"It's an honour to be in your presence."
"Bah, we both know that you only come for my books," the old man retorted, a smirk plastered on his wrinkled visage.
"I would never deny that. And we both know that you sacrifice me to your heir in order to enjoy your peace and quiet."
"I would never deny that!" the old man exclaimed jovially, laughing at the tired sigh that Harry let out.
"May I know why you called for me, Emperor Shi Huan?"
"Just call me Shi Huan, boy, I have told you many times that formalities were forgotten the moment my granddaughter invited herself to your house. Besides, what makes you think that I had another reason than the pleasure of your company?"
"Because the communication mirrors exist for a reason," Harry deadpanned.
"Ah, you're right, I haven't thought of that. Anyways, I wanted to ask what you think about Hwasa. She will be assuming the throne in only three years and she needs someone strong to support her."
"Is that... Are you asking me whether I want to court her?" Harry asked slowly, hoping to have arrived to the wrong conclusion.
"More formal than that. An engagement would suit both of you to give you time to know each other."
"I will decline the offer," was the only answer that Harry could muster at the strange request. Why did things like this always happen to him?
"Ah, a shame. I was really hoping to have you as part of the family," the emperor said nonplussed, as if he had offered the teen another cup of tea instead of the hand of his heir. "I guess I will have to wait for another generation and hope to finally have some of Lily's kin in the family."
Harry decided to take another sip of his tea and enjoy the cool breeze of the evening. However, a look at the old man told him that he would soon reveal the real reason why he had called him and it had nothing to do with Hwasa.
"How is your mark going?" the old man asked out of the blue. Harry was not even surprised.
"I finished it, but I want to check it again, just in case."
"Good, young Harry. Don't take too long though... Dark days are coming for Europe and you will need every tool at your disposal. I have heard rumours, you see, and they are quite worrying. Your dark lord has been actively recruiting in France and in the Slavic regions, especially the Northern Union. I sent my people to investigate, but they didn't get much information. Apparently, your dark lord began using his brain for once and has been keeping a low profile. However, there is something you should know. My people captured one of his recruiters. This person was searching for metamorphmagi."
"How reliable was this recruiter?" Harry asked, feeling the blood leaving his face at the implications.
"A member of the Czar's inner circle. That is right, Harry, your dark lord has managed to get powerful followers so beware. One piece of advice, now that your mark is ready, assemble your own trusted circle. Soon enough, you will need it. Don't forget that outside of it, you cannot trust anyone else aside from your most loyal collaborators," the emperor said, his gaze fixed on the Yosei that were flying around in the gardens.
Harry only nodded to the man, not being able to speak. Only a few days ago he had considered taking a break, but now he had many matters to take care of. Beginning and curiously ending with the same matter: Tom Riddle.
The book about the Hogwarts' founders had been published the same day of his meeting with Ragnok and it had created dissent between the British. Blood purists were declaring the whole book a lie, claiming for Rita's head in the process. Their efforts were not really working. The evidence that his reporter managed to compile, along with the Sorting Hat's testimony, were enough to convince most of the population. Still, there were divided opinions and much criticism against the book. The ones that were not offended by the origins of blood purity, felt affronted by the harsh truths about the four Hogwarts Houses.
Perhaps Rita could have concluded the book in a softer note, but then again, magicals tended to be denser than osmium. Only a harsh slap would be able to make them see the truth, and even then, they would try to close their eyes. It was ridiculous how reluctant magicals were to change their preconceptions, even knowing that they were wrong.
In any case, that was done. The book was the seed of doubt that needed to be planted. Harry would allow it to grow up for a few months and soon, the truth behind Voldemort would be revealed. No matter how many followers the man managed to get, the truth of his origins would be a fatal blow to his reputation and he would lose many people in his ranks. But there was still time for that to happen.
His main worry for the moment was related to the Ministry.
The room that Tubby discovered in the Classified Archives had been dealt with. Harry had feigned an attack, destroying a part of the documents residing in the place. It had been convenient really, it gave him an excuse to take home all the papers that contained delicate information that could not be seen by the infiltrator. Besides, it was almost the perfect situation. The hospital was in a lockdown and Aurors were on high alert in the Alley, not the Ministry. It was quite unfortunate that he had not been the only one with that idea.
The Department of Mysteries had also been attacked. Seven unspeakables were killed during the violent raid, other thirteen had been sent to Saint Mungos. According to Marcus, Death Eaters had stolen a few cursed objects, but that was not their main goal. They tried to steal from the Hall of Prophecies but an unspeakable decided to destroy the room before they could take anything, in revenge, the man had been kidnapped. His body was left in the middle of the alley the next day, according to Auror Moody, the Lestranges had been the ones in charge of the man's demise.
Harry wondered what exactly had been their main objective and faintly remembered the prophecy that Luna mentioned a while ago, but it soon left his mind. With the attacks to the Ministry, the aurors were on high alert. The Wizengamot would have a meeting after New Year to decide whether Auror Moody would be given free reign to reorganize the whole DMLE and the security of the Ministry, something that many people would actively oppose but it would happen nonetheless. He would make sure of it. However, Harry needed to do something before Auror Moody was granted carte blanche. His own raid to the Department of Mysteries.
Unlike the Death Eaters, his goal was not to take something, but to destroy everything in the blasted place. Luna had been right, its mere existence was an insult to Mother Magic. The whole department was dedicated to trying to decipher things that humans were not supposed to fully understand. If that was not enough, the experiments conducted by some unspeakables made Bellatrix a saint in comparison. After the raid, Madam Bones would receive information about said experiments. Soon enough, the whole department would cease to exist.
At least the blue prints had served its purpose. In less than a month, a donation would be made to build another hospital. Seriously, it was ridiculous and beyond dangerous to only have one hospital, no matter how large it was. Of course, the actual hospital would also be remodelled because far too many people were aware of its weaknesses.
Harry suppressed a sigh when his mind decided to follow that particular train of thoughts, which inevitably led to the attack at the hospital itself.
Jennifer Sagrav had been killed the exact same way Dorcas Meadowes had. Two death eaters assumed the identity of a healer and a nurse, ready to take the woman off. The only reason why they were found was because the Auror in charge of the woman's security was a werewolf. Their scents did not match their appearances and he managed to call for help before being dispatched. In the end, both death eaters had been captured thanks to the lockout. Unfortunately, they had been prepared for that situation and killed themselves before talking. It was a mess.
The mind healer treating Sagrav was so close to unlocking the woman's memories, far too close, obviously. It was easy to conclude that Voldemort had his spies in the hospital, or maybe he had other means. In any case, the whole hospital and its personnel were under the watchful gaze of the head of the DMLE, so at least Sagrav's death had not been in vain. That did not mean that Harry was pleased. The information that the woman had would had given some light to Maxime's murder, which could have helped find the real responsible for the whole mess.
Harry was still not sure whether he had to deal with yet another enemy or just Tom getting smarter. His brain told him to wait for more evidence before deciding, but his gut was screaming to take action before it was too late. Anyhow, there was nothing he could really help with until he had more information so he ignored his instincts. There were many things that he needed to take care of before classes, he could worry about this later.
He took a sip of his already cold tea, not even bothered by the taste, his gaze was focused on the first stars of the night. He would enjoy the few hours of peace that he had left before he had to face his problems.
Harry stared at the digital clock absentmindedly. Today was the last day of the year, it was almost insulting how fast time flew by. He couldn't believe that so much had happened in a two-week span and all the things that still needed to happen. It was overwhelming, he decided.
Christmas and Boxing Day had come and go in a blur. The only remarkable event during those days had been the dinner with Madam Bones and her niece. He had bonded with Susan surprisingly fast, but it was understandable when the two teens had been ignored the whole dinner by the adults, who were too busy staring lovingly at each other. The mere memory made him shudder. At least he had not gone through that trauma alone, it was a hollow comfort, but it was better than nothing.
His trip to the Tribes had gone surprisingly well, despite of having to tolerate Elizabeth friend for a few meals. In this case, not even having Ragnok by his side had been enough. The traitor had sided with his sister. Despite of that slight misfortune, he considered his trip a success. He had acquired what he needed and met the goblins from the Gringotts branch in the country. Overall, he was not banned, detained, or discovered, so a success on his books.
The investment he had made was not little by any means so he hoped it was all worth it.
"Harry, it is time to go if we don't want to be late."
He was snapped out of his reverie when a hand rested on his shoulder and he looked up. Neville was smiling brightly, looking at the woman that was petting the cat on her lap. Justin was sitting beside a bed where a man was laying, talking to him despite of not receiving any response. However, the man's eyes were not glossy and Harry could swear that he understood what he was being told.
"Fleur won't be angry if we are late," he told his friend.
"I know, but Gabrielle is more intense than her. Besides, Apolline is in charge of today's lesson and I kind of like to live."
"That's an excellent point," Harry conceded, "Fleur's mum has a temper."
He still recalled the altercation the woman had with a random witch when he was giving them a tour of the alley. Yes, Apolline had been in all the right to get offended when that woman insulted her daughters, but that was not the point. She had shown that one didn't have to lower themselves while interacting with troglodytes while displaying her fiery temper. A sight to behold, one that Harry would be happy to never witness again.
"We have to go," Neville whispered to the woman, placing a gentle hand on her arm. "Mum, we have to go," he repeated in a whisper and Alice Longbottom looked up.
"Louie?" the woman asked in a croaky voice, still petting the purring cat.
"Don't worry, Aunt Alice, he can stay with you until he decides to leave," Harry told his godmother, smiling at the content sigh that escaped the woman's lips.
"I still don't know how you managed to convince mum to allow your fur ball in the hospital," Justin complained, glaring at the cat, who returned the gesture, much to the boy's indignation.
"Your mum said that it will help with the treatment and it did," Neville answered, chuckling lightly at the glaring contest between the feline and the teenager, not something one saw every day. "It's unbelievable how you managed to reunite with your mum's cat, Harry."
"I know."
It really was unbelievable. The day of the meeting with Ragnok, while he was having lunch with his aunt, he discovered why his new furry friend had been so comfortable in the castle. Apparently, it was his mum's cat. According to Aunt Eleadora, the cat had disappeared after the attack and no one had really bothered to look for him when there were so many things to worry about. To think that after thirteen years the same cat had found him in the castle and immediately recognized him was utterly unbelievable. If it was not for his elves also recognizing the cat and the pictures that his mum had left behind, Harry would believe the whole situation to be wishful thinking.
He was happy. Despite of his parents leaving behind so much for him to remember them, having yet another link to his family filled him with warmth.
"Hey, don't forget to tell your mum about tomorrow."
"I won't or she'll kill me," Justin muttered, sulking on his chair when he lost the battle with the cat. "Mum really wants to talk with aunt Eleadora about potions. Honestly, I think I'll have to join Fred and Flora with their potion obsession before mum forces me to."
"I think you will do great, I mean, you already do that magic thingy with really hard names so potions should be easy," Neville said in an effort to comfort his sullen friend.
"It is called chemistry, Neville," Harry corrected, smiling a little at the pained expression of the boy.
"That. Now we have to hurry up or we will be late."
"Good bye Aunt Alice, Uncle Frank. Louie, take care of them for me, okay? Go to the office if you want to leave, Justin's mum will call an elf," Harry told the cat, petting his head. "Ella!"
"You sure ugly will remember that?" Justin asked in a low tone, blowing a raspberry to the cat that managed to return the gesture. "Did you see that?!"
"Master, I brought these for Miss Alice and Mister Frank!" the elf explained, "Leah made their favourites."
"Thank you, dear," Harry told his elf, ignoring Justin's outburst. "Put them on the table, a nurse will help them to eat later, let's go."
When the three teenagers left the room, the cat jumped off Alice's lap and walked towards the table. After all, he had been a good cat and he deserved treats too.
"You did great, Blaise! Does it still hurt?"
"A little. My joints hurt when turning back, but my teeth are the ones that really bother me," the boy explained, rubbing his jaw.
"I guess it has to do with your animal. Perhaps you would benefit from flexibility exercises, in any case, continue taking the mandrake essence. I will teach you how to brew fortifying essence to help with the process," the woman told the boy, "now go back to meditating and try the transformation again."
Apolline smiled a little when the boy did exactly what he was told, even though he looked tired. But who could blame him? She had made the kids practice for almost four hours now. With a sigh, she focused on her students for the day.
Being honest, she was surprised by how far the kids had managed to get on their own. Most of them could finish their respective transformations, but couldn't keep them for long and were still clumsy in their new shapes.
The sweet girl, Luna, had tried flying while in her owl shape, but she had been forced to turn back because of the pain of torn muscles in her arms. Theo had the same problem, though the boy was also loosing an alarming quantity of hair in each transformation, he needed how to control that before turning bald. Thanks heaven Fleur was helping the young kids with that. Ironically, Apolline's eldest daughter inner animal was a harpy eagle, thing that perhaps had helped her with her veela transformation. Ah, there was also the gallant Neville. She had been speechless when the gentle kid turned into an intimidating lion, but weirder things she had witnessed. The boy would be someone to be reckoned with once he was able to control his other form and stopped tripping with his own paws.
The younger twins were also advanced, however, they had yet to master turning back. Both of their animals had really sharp claws and when stopping the transformation, the poor girl's nails fell off. Adrian and Terrence were having similar problems, though the former had to deal with constant muscular pain because his bear form strained his body. Then, she remembered the oldest twins and had to contain a groan.
Both boys were able to fully turn and keep their shapes for a few minutes. However, they caused so much mischief while that it was a hazard to leave them unattended. They were not even bothered by the pain that their transformations brought. Reluctantly, Apolline admitted that she admired the boys. They were almost adults and yet, they managed to keep their connections with their inner animals alive. An admirable feat indeed.
"Bloody hell," a girl hissed, breaking Apolline's train of thought and she approached the teen.
The pretty girl, Daphne, spat blood to the grass and the woman immediately began examining her. With a relieved sigh, she concluded it was nothing serious, just the canines retracting.
"Drink this and take a break," she ordered Daphne, handing her a vial that contained a thick liquid that the girl gulped without hesitation.
"At least my nails are no longer falling off," Daphne muttered in a barely audible tone.
"You are almost there," Apolline confirmed, patting the girl's shoulder and walked over the panting while cat that soon enough turned into a panting teen. With a grimace, she uncorked another vial and helped the boy to drink it, "stop practicing for today, you will hurt your fingers otherwise."
As a testament of how tired the boy was, he simply collapsed on the grass and mumbled a thank you. The woman took out a handkerchief and wetted it with a spell, cleaning the blood in the boy's fingers. She had to admit that Draco was determined. His pain tolerance was relatively low and yet he kept pushing himself until someone forced him to stop.
Apolline began walking again when she heard a pained yelp. One look at the boy was enough for her to know that she would be forced to end the transformation. With a flick of her wand, the boy collapsed and she began examining him. Nothing serious aside from exhaustion and skin abrasion. Gently, she forced him to drink two vials of potions.
"You should rest now."
"But I still haven't managed to transform," Justin muttered in complaint.
The boy was right, he was having trouble with the transformation, just like the other two boys, Cedric and Marcus. In their defence, it was hardly their fault. Justin had not been taught how to connect with his magic so the connexion with his inner animal was not strong enough and maybe he would never be able to complete the transformation. However, that knowledge did not deter his efforts. The older boys' case was different, and perhaps harder.
Marcus was able to visualize his inner animal, but until the moment, he had only been able to transform certain parts of his body. Cedric was an even more serious case. The boy was not even able to visualize his inner animal, neither to meditate for long periods of time unless he was practising his wandless magic. Being honest, she would have already given up in teaching those three if they weren't his daughter's friends. Also, there was another reason.
The young Elizabeth was fairly experienced in animagi transformations. Not entirely surprising, considering that the girl was being taught in the Northern Tribes. That country could perhaps turn anyone in an advanced animagi. The girl was currently helping the three boys with their transformation and Apolline would be lying if she said that she wasn't curious.
At the moment, the two older boys were sitting around a fire that created horrible quantities of smoke had a strange scent. Elizabeth was randomly placing a finger on their foreheads to help them in the process. Heaven only knew what the girl was doing, but it seemed to be working because even Cedric was deep in trance.
"Rest, you can try again tomorrow," she ordered the boy that was composing himself and inching towards the fire. "If you get magically exhausted then it will take you a few days to go back to practice."
"Okay," the boy mumbled, looking mutinous. Despite of this, Apolline knew she had taken the right decision when the boy slumped again on the grass.
She was about to order the boy to head inside when a large Siberian tiger sped through the garden, followed closely by a white owl. There was also a ginger cat and a raven following them in a sedate pace, Apolline could swear that the small feline's features were contorted in an exasperated mask... Or perhaps she was projecting her own exasperation on the misshapen creature.
There went the person responsible for Fleur's newfound happiness: Harry Potter.
The boy was nothing if not perfect, far too much for her peace of mind. He seemed to be so mature and kind, awfully talented in anything related to magic, courteous and polite to a fault. If that was not enough, he had the looks that would make many swoon and family background that granted him a comfortable life. All in all, the boy seemed far too perfect to be true and if life had taught her something, it was to be distrustful of appearances.
The boy spent an awful amount of time in his study, but he was rarely alone. There were always elves coming and going, carrying different folders, or at least, the ones she had seen did so. Also, his large group of friends went in the room for hours, including Fleur. His daughter would never really tell her what they had been talking about, which only led her to be more suspicious. Perhaps she was overreacting, but her instincts were rarely wrong. Therein laid her conundrum.
Apolline had never seen her daughter so happy. Her new friends were incredibly kind and supportive, barely even remembering her heritage, thing that surprised her the most. In a sense, it was refreshing because it gave Fleur a taste of what a normal life was like. On the other hand, it was worrying. Veelas were terribly territorial and loyal to a fault, thing that Fleur had inherited in spades. As a mother, she could already see the fiery protective glint on her daughter's eyes when she interacted with her friends. Something that had only been extended to her small family before. This is what worried her the most.
Maybe she was being paranoid but she had a feeling that Harry Potter was far too involved in the coming conflict with Voldemort, which meant that Fleur would also be involved. The idea of her eldest being in mortal peril was horrifying to any mother.
Her sombre thoughts were interrupted when she felt a familiar pair of arms snake around her waist.
"What is bothering you?" her husband asked in a hushed whisper.
"Look at Fleur."
"She is happy," Augustine concluded after looking at their daughter, and indeed, Fleur was happy. She was openly laughing at the antics of one of her friends.
"I'm worried."
"You always are, but remember that she is her own person before being our daughter."
"I know," Apolline sighed in defeat and her husband's hug tightened.
"Get a room!" one of the devilish twins howled, dramatically covering his eyes and breaking the couple's moment.
"Don't exaggerate," Daphne hissed, "you are embarrassing us."
"No, he is right. Mama, Papa, please, do get a room," Fleur requested in a polite tone, though her eyes were glinting in mischief.
"Okay, you all! End of the lesson. Get some rest and be presentable for dinner," Apolline ordered and, much to her satisfaction, she heard the kids groan.
She may be worried, but it was undeniable, Fleur was happy and that was the only thing that mattered. If her daughter decided to participate in whatever machination Harry Potter was planning, then she would support her. Fleur's happiness was more than worth it.
Apolline only hoped that she never came to regret her decision.
Harry Potter stared at the moon. A waning crescent, the perfect witness for what was about to happen. He took a deep breath and focused his eyes on his surroundings.
He was standing up in the middle of a nine-pointed star, each point represented by his friends and his sister. Curious how life worked, there were exactly eighteen people that were going to receive his mark, the exact same number necessary for the ritual. Now, he only had to wait a few moments until the moon was in the right position.
The preparations for the ritual had been nerve-wracking. If he made the slightest mistake, then he could harm his friends and that is something he would never be able to forgive himself. Fortunately, nothing had gone wrong during the most stressful part: carving the mark.
Harry had chosen a rarely visible place for his mark, the left side of the chest, right above the heart. He would never admit it, but he had taken two vials of calming draught in order to ease his nerves for the part that he had hated the most from the whole process. He was proud to say that his pulse had not trembled once while carving the mark on his friends' chest, despite of the blood that freely poured out of the bleeding wound. During the process, his magic had itched to heal them instead of hurting them, almost circumventing his strict control. Compared to that, marking his chest had been a piece of cake.
Now, they were on the last part of the process, the blood sacrifice. Even though it sounded quite morbid, it was the easiest part. His friends only had to finish the last detail of the mark by themselves, which meant they voluntarily took the mark.
The moonstones surrounding the group lightened up when the moon reached the desired position. It was time. Harry traced his finger on his mark, opening a new wound. He gritted his teeth when he felt liquid fire burning the wound and a strange sizzling hiss evaporated the blood. After a second of agony, the pain faded.
Harry looked at his chest and saw a pitch-black mark. It was done.
The light of the moonstones increased and he felt his magic communicating with the ones surrounding him. It was an indescribable sensation. He could feel his friends' wild emotions and pure euphoria. Luna's giggles broke the silence and she hugged the closes person to her.
Harry allowed the laughter that was bubbling on his chest to escape and joined the high spirits around him. They were safe and that was the only thing that mattered.
25th of December 1994, Number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey
Petunia Dursley stared at the almost naked living room with an inscrutable expression. How had her perfect life turned out like this? What did she ever do to deserve this?
She sighed and took a bite of her dinner. With a heavy heart, she took a look at her husband.
Vernon was not doing well, not in the slightest. He had lost so much weight, which she would have appreciated years ago, but now, it was only a reminder of their misfortune. After he was freed, he had been unable to find a job thanks to his criminal record and their savings were long gone. The only source of income was, ironically, Petunia's housekeeping and baking skills. She had to swallow her pride in order to make a little money just to keep paying the expenses. This was not how she imagined how her life would be like when she got married.
She could clearly remember those uncertain times and her ambitious, if a bit frivolous goals. She got married at the tender age of twenty with a man who was fourteen years older than she was but offered her the stability and normalcy that she so desperately craved. Admittedly, she had not loved him at the beginning, which may or may have not been related to Vernon's blatant unattractiveness. However, he was the man who remained at her side despite of knowing about the freaks that refused to leave her life and always offered her a shoulder to cry on when life overwhelmed her. And most importantly, he loved her as she was. Marrying Vernon Dursley was a decision that Petunia would never regret.
However, she would eternally curse the day on which Harry Potter arrived in her life. Thanks to that freak, her life was going to hell!
"I wonder what Dudley is doing right now," Vernon said in a tone that was barely above a whisper. His dinner remained untouched in front of him.
"I am sure that he is having fun," she murmured, trying to ignore the sharp pain in her chest at the memory of her only son.
"Who would have thought that Dudders would leave the nest so young? ...He no longer needs us, Petunia."
Her husband's words hung in the air, creating a tense atmosphere. This was not something she wanted to talk about, ever.
Dudley had matured so much, but he had yet to forgive them. Petunia had ignored that little detail until it was no longer so insignificant, until the day Dudley decided to leave the house. She was not blind, she knew what her son was trying to do but she pretended not to notice until it was too late. How could she ever forget that day? Her sweet Diddykins arrived home early, for a change, and gave them the paperwork they needed to sign for him to study abroad. A scholarship to Exeter was not something to scoff about and any other parent would be proud of their children achieving so much on their own. Petunia was not any other parent. She was a mother that knew she was losing her only child and didn't know how to fix it.
For a few days, she seriously considered the idea of simply not giving Dudley the authorization to leave, but Vernon had stopped her. For the first time in months, her husband had shown interest in anything. Unfortunately, his newfound interest in their son's education went against her own needs as a mother, which led to one of the worst fights in their sixteen years of marriage. It had been terrible, especially because Vernon put into words her worst fears. Fears that she had tried to ignore for years.
To put it in simple words, they would lose Dudley if they denied him this opportunity. He would resent them even more, and when he was of age, he would inevitably leave without turning back. She knew this, which is why she wanted to have her son close while she could. However, Vernon had a point. If they allowed Dudley to have time for himself, his anger would run out. At least that is what they hoped. She had no argument against her husband's logic and had signed those bloody papers. Reluctantly, with tears streaming down her face, and with such a shaky handwriting that the ones who reviewed them would think she either had Parkinson's disease or had signed in the middle of an earthquake. But she had signed them.
With a heavy heart, she realized that Dudley had spoken to her more in those three months before his departure than what he had since their tragedies began. Vernon had been right, their son just needed time alone. In the end, she decided it was for the best. Despite of not having her son during the Holidays, it was better if he was not present to see his parents' shame.
They could no longer tolerate their lives in Little Whinging, especially not her! Her blasted neighbours rejoiced on their misfortune, always gossiping about them and taking advantage of their situation. They gave her generous tips for the baked goods she sold, if a few pence can be called so, while they smiled on the inside, rejoicing on the humble facade that she needed to wear in order to earn her living. It was humiliating! It was something she could no longer live with so she wouldn't. Thankfully, Vernon supported her decision to leave.
Selling the house would give them enough money to start a small bakery in Acton. Thankfully, they had managed to find a small two-bedroom flat, which fitted perfectly with her plans. Yes, it would be hard to start again, but they desperately needed to do so. Besides, they had each other and they would somehow make it work.
Unlike Vernon, she had not been surprised when Marge stopped talking to them when their disgrace began. That awful woman had always hated her, always calling her a gold digger behind her back and giving her that ever-present disapproving frown. Petunia had definitely not been surprised by her sister-in-law's indifference and barely concealed contempt when Vernon tried to contact her. Marge would probably ignore them until they were stable once again and she felt lonely enough to pay them a visit and pretend she had helped them all along. That harpy!
"We were wrong, don't you think?" Vernon asked out of the blue, interrupting her sour thoughts.
"What do you mean?" she muttered in an almost robotic tone and winced when her husband's already tired visage withered under her blank stare.
"Harry Potter." That name was enough to rekindle her anger. What was Vernon trying to do by mentioning that freak? "What if we had treated him as a family? Hear me out, Petunia. I know that you and your sister had a big fight because of her husband, I know that you are scared of magic and so am I. But what if we had treated the boy as Lily would have treated Dudley if something happened to us? We both know that Marge would never raise a child, so it was either your sister or an orphanage."
"What makes you think she is better than me?!" This was utterly unbelievable! Her own husband was comparing her to the oh-so-perfect-Lily.
"I never said that she was better than you, Tuney," he sighed, rendering her speechless with that old nickname that she so fondly loved and gained much mockery from the neighbours. "I had time to think about this. Remember that day? When Dudley was a few months old, we went to that office party and I drank too much but didn't let you drive. We almost crashed that night. The Potters would have taken Dudley and raised him as their own."
"We don't know that," Petunia tried to argue, but the knot in her throat was not helping. Besides, her anger had been brusquely extinguished by shock. Since when Vernon had a high opinion on Lily's husband?
"They had magic, but they were not freaks. Raising a child as he deserves is the right thing to do. It has nothing to do with affection, just with being normal."
With those words, Vernon left the table. His dinner was still untouched.