Sword and Shield

by FeeBe

Percival Graves, hanging in between life and death, is visited by two Beings who grant him a second chance. He accepts and is thrown forwards in time in his fifteen-year-old body where he finds himself in a park with the sky darkening and the temperature plummeting…. Adopted work from tori cat13. Slash. Not for Hermione/Dumbledore fans. Sequel started

21. Chapter 21

A/N: Edits for chapters 4 and 5 are up (no need to go and re-read, as there is no change to the plot).

: I have added a double cut scene at the bottom of chapter 5 (these are confrontations between Sirius and Molly), if you wish to take a look.

: Quotes ahead. If you have seen it before I do not own it. Of course, I have played around with it as usual (and it is a long way out of sequence with the canon timeline)

Back in the dormitory, Harry flopped onto the couch and buried his face in his hands. He felt the couch sink beside him.

"Is he going to be ok?" a soft voice asked.

Lifting his head Harry, turned and looked into Neville's worried eyes, "Sorry Nev, what did you say?"

"Percival, is he going to be alright?"

Harry shrugged, "Physically yeah, but he's in some sort of enchanted sleep, and Madame Pomfrey doesn't know what caused it."

A strong hand clasped his shoulder. "She'll figure it out, she always does," Ron reassured, moving around the couch as he joined them. He ended up sitting on the floor in front of the couch and pulling a low table over to act as a desk, for his homework.

"Do they even know who did it?" Neville asked.

"I don't know. They didn't talk about it near me. If I get the chance, I'll ask Snape tomorrow. Personally, though I think it was Umbridge, only she must have been aiming for me. Just before it happened the girls and I were pushed out of the way."

"What makes you think it was her? I mean she's a right toad but she's still a teacher."

"She told me that she was not bound to a Hogwarts contract the same as the other teachers. And besides that, you know how you asked me to look after Iris and Veronica? Well the detention Umbridge put them in was aimed at getting me riled up," Harry confided.

"But that's ridiculous," Neville protested. "How is her giving a detention to two second years going to rile you up."

Ron's face screwed up, "They were bleeding afterwards Nev, that's how."

"Yeah," Harry leaned closer to his friends. "She made them write out lines with a Black Quill."

While Neville's face lost all colour, Ron's screwed up in confusion, "A what?"

"Black Quill," Neville said. "It's a dark item that uses your blood to write in and bind your magic in contracts."

"She told them that she would give them more detentions if she didn't get what she wanted out of the first. She came into the Infirmary, while I was visiting Perce."

"Oh Harry, what did you do?"

"I may have managed to get a weeks' worth of detention," he admitted.

"What are we going to do with you? Percival's only been asleep for like five hours and already…."

"Harry?" a female voice called.

He turned to see Hermione approaching, "Yes? Can I help you?"

"I just wanted to say, I heard about …Percival. What happened to him is terrible. Are you ok?"

"I'll be fine as soon as he is better," Harry answered tersely.

"Oh, good," she looked as if she wanted to say something more, however something stopped her, perhaps it was the stares of the three boys. So, she gave a little 'hem' and made her way up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

"That was odd," Neville frowned, as he watched her leave.

"You don't think it was Hermione that did it do you?" Ron asked. "She's been awful this year."

"No, this seems to have been deliberately harmful. I can't believe that the Hermione we knew would descend to that level," Harry shook his head, "no matter how bad she has become."

"I don't know Harry; she did have that book. Dark objects like that tend to skew a person's morality if they aren't careful," Neville said thoughtfully.

"We've no evidence she has had more than that one."

"While that potions book is mostly alright it still had that one spell in it," Ron added.

"Well yeah, besides that."

"She did poison you," Ron pointed out.

"Yeah, but she didn't mean to," Harry protested.

"When you look at it by itself, that might be true, but this second attack, if it was her, then she is in a lot more trouble than we thought."

"You already thought she was in trouble?" Neville asked.

Ron looked at Harry for approval, "We found out that she has had access to the Potter library, since at least first year."

"But," Neville looked at Harry in shock. "You didn't even know!"

"Nope. We have suspicions, and they all point to her being manipulated by someone."

"It was the Headmaster wasn't it? He was supposed to be your guardian," Neville deduced.

"Huh, can't hide anything from you, godbrother of mine. Yes, we think so. We have managed to take away his access to the Potter properties. Which reminds me I meant to have Sirius look at Potter manor. I guess it will have to wait until the summer now."

"So, what are we going to do about Umbridge," Ron asked suddenly.

"I was thinking we should prank her somehow. We need to get justice for Iris and Veronica."

"Are you sure that Percival would approve of this course of action, Harry?" Neville asked.

"Um, let's just say what he doesn't know can't hurt me," Harry grinned.

"He will find out."

"Yeah but by then it will be all over, and it's better to ask for forgiveness then permission. We probably shouldn't plan it down here were there are so many witnesses," Harry said. "How much homework have you got to do Ron?"

"A bit. I was with Ginny in the infirmary for a while."

"I'm all done I might head up to bed."

"Night."

Harry threw himself onto his bed. Knowing that Percival would not be just a yard away in his own bed, made something itch in Harry's hands. He knew he wasn't tired enough yet to go to sleep, but his homework was all done, and he was not in the mood to study. What could he do?

Then he remembered, the last time that they were down in the chamber, Dobby had bought back his parent's trunks. Where on earth had he put them? He would die if he had lost them! Ah, there they were in the locked compartment of his own trunk, sitting side by side. He took them out and sat the on the bed in front of him with shaking hands. Which should he start with?

There was only one choice. He knew next to nothing about his mum. He pulled her trunk closer, enlarged it with a quick Engorgio and flipped the lid open. Surprisingly it was a three-compartment trunk. Her name was handwritten in indelible ink on the inside of the lid. With a finger he traced the letters, wondering if she had written them herself or if this was the handwriting of one of his grandparents. Briefly Harry wondered why his Aunt had never really spoken of them.

The first compartment was stacked full of spare bits of equipment. There was a section just for cauldrons and stirring rods, another for what looked to be items that she had charmed including a muggle alarm clock (which Harry immediately took out and set on the chest of drawers by his bed), two note books labelled Potions, and four more labelled Charms.

Leaving the Charms books for a moment, he opened one of the ones labelled Potions. It was not her writing on the trunk after all. The L's in her name were completely different but the Y's were similar, just like his own. His heart skipped a beat, at the realisation that they all drew their Y's the same way. It was amazing the work she had done. Developments on potions to combat infertility, one to treat depression, a healing potion that had – for Elves- written in brackets and on the back page of the second book, notes and workings for adjustments to the wolfbane potion.

"Gemini!" Harry looked at the copied books for a moment. "Dobby," he continued when the Elf had appeared. "Please take these to Professor Snape. Make sure he is alone when you give them to him. Tell him. Just…tell him…" Harry was not at all sure what he wanted to tell the dour man. "Um, tell him… I thought…he..might like copies." It was not quite what he wanted to say, but it just did not feel right to say, 'Thanks for not being such a git this year, and I know you knew my mum when you were young so I thought these potions books of hers might make a nice gift for you'. Or 'Thanks for everything that you've taught me this year and for all those times that you saved my life. I really kind of think of you as my grumpy Uncle now, only better than my real Uncle'. With an internal shrug Harry pushed the issue aside, he was sure that Snape would let him know if he had over stepped.

Pushing that thought aside he opened the first charms book.

With a swish of robes, he turned and sat at his desk. There before him sat the bane of his life, eighty-three first and second year's essays. Oh, how he wished he was in the muggle world with its short answer and multiple-choice questions, but no, he had to sit here and read every one. Maybe next year he would change the topics around. Yes, that was probably a wise idea for his sanity. If he was here the next year…

"Master Snakey Sir," a squeaky voice intruded on his thoughts.

"Yes?" Ah it was Potter's annoyingly helpful house elf.

"Master Harry, says he thought you might like these," the little Elf said cautiously placing two books on his desk. Promptly disappearing with a soft pop.

He recognised the writing immediately. How could he not? It might have been nearly fifteen years since he had last read it, but he had spent years sharing notes with the her, reviewing her assignments while she reviewed his, studying beside her. How had the boy come by them? Had he always had them? No, they must have been in one of the trunks. Why bring them out now? Surely, they would have been the first thing that he had looked at. What was the purpose behind the gift? Perhaps he should go and speak to the mutt? No, the last time he had done that the man had laughed at him! Any Slytherin worth his salt, would not give up something like this for no reason, but this was Harry. He needed to think like a Gryffindor, the boy had hugged him for Merlin's sake! Perhaps Harry genuinely just thought that he would like them. Something had changed, down in Slytherin's chamber they had forged a relationship that had gone from adversarial, tainted with the long-held resentment of the boy's father through mutual respect to something more. Almost, familial.

Perhaps, he should just look at them? A gentle flick of his thumb and the first was open. Ignoring all else he was drawn into her world of experimental and theoretical brewing. Did it really matter if the assignments were not marked until tomorrow? Apparently being locked inside for so long had stimulated her intellect and imagination. Who else would have come up with, or nearly come up with, a potion to force the Animagus transformation? The notes revealed the missing step which, the note at one side said, she had not had a chance to trial. Why had she thought of it anyway? Was it something she was considering, a means of escape from the long days confined with only Potter and Harry? Sketched into the margins was the outline of the doe that he knew to be her Patronus.

There it was. On the last page, her Magnum Opus. A work of pure genius. Though it was purely theoretical, because she had not been able to obtain the ingredients, the firmness of her hand spoke of a surety that it would work. The motivation behind it was clear. Then there was a gut dropping realisation that the Wolf was gone and would never know what she had set out to achieve for him. While he might not like the man himself, he could appreciate the tragedy of his condition. It had truly been horrible that someone had let slip about the man's condition the year he had worked at Hogwarts. Remus had actually made a passable Defence Professor. Snape resolved then and there to bring her work to fruition, even if it could no longer help her friend.

The pile of papers went unmarked as he set about ordering ingredients and scribbling notes on a spare bit of parchment. As each hour passed his certainty that he could make something out of notes grew. He would do it, in her name.

"What time do you have detention?" Neville asked as the three boys entered the dorm.

"After dinner," Harry, couldn't even scowl, knowing he had bought it on himself. "I might skip dinner to go and see Percival."

"I reckon Dobby would bring you food to the Infirmary."

"Yeah, if Pomfrey will let me eat in there."

"You should warn her that you'll stop in after detentions so she can have Snape make some of that potion."

"Yeah, maybe," Harry said, quickly jotting down a few answers to the Charms quiz they had been given that day. The sooner he got this work done the sooner he could go and visit Percival and see if Pomfrey had been able to figure out what was wrong with him yet.

Harry ignored the comings and goings of the others, working doggedly to finish his homework as possible, then he bolted out of the room.

"Harry."

He ignored the call as he dashed through the common room. In less than five minutes he was at the Hospital wing door.

"I don't think there is really any need is there?" the deep voice of the Headmaster drifted through the door, causing Harry to pause before he entered.

"His guardian needs to be notified Albus," was the insistent reply from the matron.

"We don't want an International incident over something so small, do we?" The Headmaster said placidly, then there was a small pause.

"I…what were you saying Albus?"

"Oh, nothing Poppy, just that you seemed a little stressed. I will leave you to it shall I?"

"Ye...Yes alright."

Harry ducked behind the plinth supporting a statue of Hippocrates, as the Headmaster exited the room. As soon as the old man had disappeared around a corner, he emerged and made his way into the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey was standing looking slightly dazed by Percival's bed.

"Are you alright Madame Pomfrey?" Harry asked.

She blinked at him in confusion for a moment, "Yes dear."

"Any further information on when he will get better?"

"No, Mr Potter. I am afraid not. None of us can figure out what spell was used, and until we do. I am flying blind."

"Oh. Did you tell his Aunt yet? I'm sure she could help," Harry suggested, interested to see what she would say.

"Oh, I don't think we need to do that just yet. We don't want and International incident over something so small, do we?"

"Is it alright if I just sit with him for a bit?"

"Of course, dear. There is no way of telling if he can hear what you are saying, but some people coming out of situations such as these report that have," she said and then wandered back to her office.

Harry watched her go, wondering at the way her words she had echoed Dumbledore's. One thing was for certain, he would be making sure that Aunt Sera was advised of both the injury and the issue with Madame Pomfrey, regardless of what Albus Dumbledore wanted. Surely, Seraphina would have access to resources that were beyond those available to Madame Pomfrey, especially when she was so clearly being influenced by the Headmaster. Perhaps it had been the Headmaster himself who had cast the spell.

After advising the matron of his expected detention and receiving a bottle of potion, Harry set off for Umbridge's office on the third floor. When he knocked on the door she called, 'Come in,' in a sugary voice. He entered cautiously, looking around.

He had known this office under three of its previous occupants. In the days of Gilderoy Lockhart it had been plastered in beaming portraits of the man himself. When Lupin had occupied it, it was likely that you would meet some fascinating Dark creature in a cage or tank if you came to call. In Moody's, or should he say Barty Crouch Junior's, days it had been packed with various instruments and artefacts for the detection of wrongdoing and concealment.

Now, however, it was totally unrecognisable. The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There were several vases full of dried flowers, each one residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicoloured kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. These were so foul that Harry stared at them, transfixed wondering if Marge had a similar collection but with pictures of dogs on them.

"Good evening, Mr Potter," his thoughts were interrupted when Umbridge spoke again.

Harry started and looked around. He had not noticed her at first because she was wearing a luridly flowered set of robes that blended only too well with the tablecloth on the desk behind her.

"Evening, Professor Umbridge," Harry said stiffy.

"Well, sit down," she said, pointing towards a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up a straight-backed chair. A piece of blank parchment lay on the table, waiting for him.

"Now Mr Potter I know you want to ask to for leniency given the injuries that have been incurred by your…..friend," she said the word derisively, "however, I will save you from asking," she smiled at him smugly. "The answer Mr Potter is no. No, you will come back here every evening, missing out on visiting hours," she gave a little giggle. "Yes, missing out on something you want to do, will reinforce the lesson I am trying to teach. You may have found a way to silence the Daily Prophet, but those of us in the Ministry are aware of the nasty, evil, lies you have been spreading. Lying about the Ministry is treason Mr Potter, and for that you will be punished."

She reminded him of Marge and Vernon, standing there so arrogantly. Harry felt the blood surge to his head and heard a thumping noise in his ears. She watched him with her head slightly to one side, still smiling widely, as though she knew exactly what he was thinking and was waiting to see whether he would start shouting. But Percival had taught him well, and with some effort he pushed away his anger. Dropping his bag onto the floor beside the straight-backed chair he sat down.

"There," said Umbridge sweetly, "we're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we? Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Mr Potter. No, not your quill," she added, even though he had not made a move towards his bag. "You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are."

She handed him a long, thin black quill, with an unusually sharp point. He braced himself as it was placed on the table and he reached to pick it up. Imagining his magic, covering his hand in a layer to protect it from the oily feel of the quill.

Umbridge leaned over, with one hand on the back of the chair and the other on the table, so she could say quietly into his ear, "I want you to write, I must not tell lies."

"How many times?" Harry asked with a credible imitation of politeness.

"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in," said Umbridge sweetly. "Off you go."

She moved over to her desk sat down and bent over a stack of parchment that looked like essays for marking. Harry raised the sharp Black quill and realised that not questioning the lack of ink, might raise her suspicions that he knew about the quill beforehand.

Deciding to play dumb he stated, "You haven't given me any ink."

"Oh, you won't need ink," said Professor Umbridge, with the merest suggestion of a laugh in her voice.

Bracing himself Harry placed the point of the quill on the paper and wrote:

I must not tell lies.

Even though he was prepared, Harry had to stifle a gasp of pain as the words were cut into his skin and his blood appeared on the parchment. He frowned at the red words; how many other student' blood had this evil woman taken? Did she know what she could do with it? Perhaps not. The way Dennis had been hiding his hand earlier in the year came to mind, she'd had his blood for four months and did not seem to have done anything with it. Was it that she thought that his blood was not worth anything or did she just not know the power that was in it? Was it a type of magic that had disappeared over time?

Harry looked round at Umbridge. She was watching him, her wide toad like mouth stretched in a smile.

"Yes?"

"Nothing," said Harry quietly.

He looked back at the parchment, placed the quill on it once more, wrote I must not tell lies and felt the searing pain in the back of his hand.

And on it went. Again, and again Harry wrote the words on the parchment. Again, and again, the words were cut into the back of his hand, healed and reappeared the next time he set quill to parchment. She had done this to twelve-year olds! This relentless torture. He took his anger and wrapped it like a protective sheath around himself pushing back at the compulsion that the quill was trying to bind him to.

Even though he knew it must be approaching curfew Harry did not ask when he would be allowed to stop. He knew she was watching him for any sign of weakness, and he used his defiance as a shield.

"Come here," she said, after what seemed hours.

He stood up. His hand was stinging painfully. When he looked down at it he saw that the cut had healed, but the skin there was red raw. It was horrifying to think how many times Iris and Veronica must have had to write the line in one detention to have already achieved an open wound!

"Hand," she said.

He extended it. She took it in her own. Harry repressed a shudder as she touched him with her thick, stubby fingers on which she wore a number of ugly rings.

"Tut, tut, I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet," she said, smiling. "Well we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? You may go."

Harry left her office without a word. He walked up the corridor, then when he had turned the corner and was sure that she would not hear him, he withdrew his Cloak from his bag and ducked underneath. If she had bothered to drag him into detention and not release him until after curfew there was no way that she had not lined up someone to be around to give him another detention on his way back to the Gryffindor tower.

Sure enough, as he reached the first set of stairs there was the Seventh year Slytherin prefect leaning against the railing, glancing up the corridor expectantly every few seconds. Harry walked past quietly and made his way to the tower. Where he called for Dobby to bring him a bowl in which he could soak his hand.

Groaning as he pushed himself out of bed the next morning, Harry decided to forgo his usual exercise and head to breakfast. He was glad that he had made the effort to treat his wound before he went to sleep. His hand still ached a bit, but it had to be better than it would have been without it. When he made his way down the stairs, Ron was sitting in the common room staring around wildly looking for inspiration for his divination homework.

"How come you didn't do it last night?"

Ron, who had been deeply asleep when Harry got back to the dormitory the previous evening, muttered something about 'being distracted', as he bent over his parchment and scrawled a few words.

"Glad I ditched Divination," Harry smiled as Ron, slammed his dream diary shut. "Seems more trouble than it's worth."

They said goodbye at the top of the stairs so that Ron could head to the North Tower, I'll send Dobby with some breakfast," he promised.

Angelina was still in the Great Hall when Harry arrived.

"Don't forget Quidditch practice this afternoon, Harry."

"Oh. Um. Sorry but Umbridge has given me a lifetime ban. You'll have to replace me," he informed her meekly.

Angelina was not amused. "We need you Harry!" she said exasperatedly. "You have to stop getting in trouble."

"Given that she has been out to get me since the start of the year, I think we were kind of lucky that I got play as long as I did," Harry said. "Oh and get Ginny to try out. I've seen her playing at the Burrow, she's pretty good."

Angelina grumbled as she moved away.

Harry shook his head and moved over to sit next to Neville, "Well she isn't quite as bad as Oliver, but she's not far off it."

"How was detention?"

Harry shrugged noncommittally.

"What did she have you doing?"

"Lines, like we thought."

"At least it was only lines," Hermione said as she slid into the chair next to him. "It's not as if it's a dreadful punishment really."

Neville opened his mouth but shut it when Harry frowned and shook his head. He was no longer close enough to Hermione to feel comfortable talking about the details of the detention. When they were alone, he would discuss it with Ron and Neville. Then when it was bad enough, he would get Colin to take photos and send them and the memories to Samuel McMillan, Addison Baldric, Sirius and Aunt Sera. Hopefully they could do something, but there was no point now when he had no evidence.

The second detention was just as bad as the previous one. The skin on the back of Harry's hand became irritated more quickly now and was soon inflamed and red. Harry thought that it was unlikely that it would keep healing as effectively as it had for long, even with Snape's potions. Soon the cut would remain etched into his hand, he doubted that Umbridge would be satisfied even then. He let no gasp of pain escape him, however and from the moment of entering the room to the moment of his dismissal, at well past midnight, he said nothing but 'good evening' and 'goodnight'.

This time it was Filch waiting one corridor away from Umbridge's Office, fortunately Mrs Norris was nowhere to be seen. He paced back and forth in the corridor, muttering to himself about manacles and dungeons. No doubt he would appreciate the detentions issued by Umbridge. Still it was an easy enough matter for Harry to duck around him and continue on his way.

Ron was still awake when Harry returned to the Tower, making his way straight to the Dorm room and pouring another measure of Snape's potion into the bowl.

"What's tha' for 'Arry?" Seamus asked.

"Black Quills are made to make magical contracts; the potion helps to prevent one forming around the words Umbridge is making me write, as well as easing the pain, and healing the cuts a bit."

With a glance into the bowl at Harry's inflamed skin Neville said, "we really need to do something about that hag."

"Oh Merlin, do you know what we should do?" Ron said.

"What?"

"We should turn her into a toad!"

"Why?"

"Because she's already halfway there!" Ron grinned obviously pleased with his deduction.

"No," Harry shook his head.

"But why," Ron whined. "It'd be great."

"Yeah, but where is the punishment? We turn her into a toad, she hops around for a few hours and then is back to herself none the wiser. While she's a toad she will think as a toad. No, if we could do it, it would be to turn her into a toad, but leave her thinking as a human."

"I think that might be a bit beyond us just yet."

"Yeah, but what about the twins?" Ron suggested. "They already make sweets that make you make animal noises instead of talking," he paused as if frozen. "Oh….oh…what if we can make her stay human, only have her thinking she's a toad. The beauty of it is that she will act like a toad, we can all take photos, which someone is sure to send to the Daily Prophet, and she won't even know what she has done."

"We'll get the twins on the case," Harry nodded. "But we need to think of more. I think it's going to take a combined case of her acting crazy as well as using the Black Quill before the Ministry will move her on. I wonder if we can somehow get Peeves to follow her around? We could try bribing him with something, maybe dungbombs, he seems to like those."

The idea kicked off the twins' creativity, they loved it. If they could make it work, there was a whole line of products they could see. They could develop products so that not only could a witch or wizard sound like an animal, or act like an animal but perhaps they could make one so that you could take on the certain attributes of an animal, say the ears or a tail. They already had made a product that would make you sprout fur. Perhaps, they might even find a way to turn you into an animal fully. The kids had not suggested it yet, but they could certainly see Umbridge spending some time as a toad. Yes, there were so many possibilities. Shortly after that meeting, the twins disappeared from the common room and were not seen again, except for in lessons, for a week. Lee assured everyone, when he was asked, that they were still alive.

It took the whole week of detentions before the words appeared to be cut deeply in his skin, and Harry could feel his magic warring with the compulsion to obey them. He thanked the Gods for Snape's potion. He barely waited for the door to shut behind him as he left that final night before he covered himself in his Cloak. She had obviously had words to the prefects as each night they had moved closer to her door. He had only just wrapped the material around himself when Draco Malfoy came around the corner. Huh, that was interesting the fifth-year prefects were supposed to be on the early rotation of the roster. What did it matter in the end? Of course Malfoy would be siding with that evil bitch.

He shuddered remembering the way she had licked her lips as she inspected his hand and said "Yes, I think I have made my point Mr Potter."

But she had not let his hand go, she had squeezed it tighter digger her nails in leaving crescent shaped wounds on his skin, until he met her eyes. That was when the pain hit, burning through his scar. If she was not one of Riddles, she was well on her way.

She smirked at him, as he suppressed a hiss, "It hurts doesn't it," she whispered seductively, rubbing her thumb over the words. "You may go." As he opened the door she lifted her thumb to her mouth and licked it.

His first instinct was to run but with Malfoy right in the middle of the corridor that was just not an option. Instead he took a chance and leaned against the wall. Breath in, breath out. He had not really had a moment, just to be, since the previous weekend. He had been completing his homework hurriedly in his spare lessons, meal breaks and by getting up early, but after using all his energy fighting the message of the quill, he did not have any left for anything else. Breath in, breath out. He realised he had not been attending to his Occlumency, ah, no wonder his scar had hurt.

A quick glance showed that Malfoy was now muttering to himself. Standing still watching him could be entertaining. Harry grinned, before sinking in behind his shields. There was a massive crack up the side of the protection around the horcrux. It had the same feel as the quill, well that explained why she had wanted to take control of detentions. He took the time to rebuild the casing and file some of his recent memories including the ones of his detentions. Making a note to have Colin to take photos. He could then send them to….Oh Shite! He was suddenly struck, he had not called Sirius or written to Aunt Sera about Percival!

Malfoy was now, walking backwards and forwards across the corridor muttering to himself. Two steps and he would be on the opposite wall. Harry sped past making the decision that he would head to the Infirmary. There was no way, the amount of potion he had left was going to be enough.

"Madame Pomfrey," he whispered as he opened the door.

It took a moment before the light came on and she appeared, "Mr…Potter?"

He stumbled over to her, a little lightheaded now. "It still hurts," he admitted softly.

"Come here," she led him over to the bed next to Percival. "Up you get, I'll be right back."

"Dobby!"

"Yes, Master Harry Sir?"

"Can you please get my mirror, mailbox, parchment and quill from my trunk? Um and if he is still up can you ask Colin if I may borrow his camera?"

Two pops later and the items were all sitting on the table beside him, including Colin's camera. He pulled the parchment closer, quickly scribing a letter to Seraphina, sending it through the box as soon as it was written. He just hoped that she was back in the country. He grabbed another piece and began writing to McMillan.

"Mr Potter," Snape had appeared. "What mischief have you been up to now."

"Hang on Professor." He signed the letter and put it aside. Picking the mirror up he called, "Sirius!"

"Pup, It's late! What are you calling for? Is everything alright?"

"I had a run in with Umbridge and she gave me a weeks' worth of detention. I had my last detention with her tonight. I have been using your potion Professor but….I don't think it will be enough this time."

He revealed his hand.

"Oh Pup! Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I kind of forgot, between Percival's accident, the detentions and homework, I haven't had much energy or time. It's only because I had a few moments to practice my Occlumency that I remembered I hadn't told you yet. Nor have I told Aunt Sera about Perce, though I just sent her a letter. Here Professor, do you think you can take a photo? Be careful, it's Colin's camera!"

"Does Mr Creevey develop the pictures himself?"

"Yes, and he already has some photos of Iris and Veronica's wounds as well. Should we write to their parents?"

"I assume you are sending them off to Samuel McMillan? I will ensure that a letter is sent to their parents but also advise Mr McMillan that he may be the first contact, just in case the letters go astray."

"Yes, Professor. I've written the letter already to go with them, so I'll add that as a postscript." He reached for his quill.

"Right, good. Now back up a little and tell me what was that about Percival?" Sirius asked. "I'm going to see Seraphina tomorrow, she arrived back yesterday."

"We were bringing two second years to see Madame Pomfrey after Umbridge had used a Black Quill on them in detention."

"What in the Gods name is going on in that school Severus?"

"I do not know, the Headmaster seems to be….." he sighed, "I had thought that maybe he was focussing on the bigger picture, or perhaps given his age he was dementing, however the more things that happen the more it appears that perhaps we have all been deceived by him."

With a wave Sirius signalled for Harry to continue.

"Just as we reached the staircase on the fourth floor, one of the girls, Iris I think, said she saw a flash of light. I was shoved from behind and pushed the girls out of the way, I looked over to Percival just as he went over the railing. I tried …really I did Sirius, I tried to slow his fall, but the staircase moved and…and it hit him. He…he went flying….I didn't think about looking to see if anyone was around, I just ran down the stairs as quick as I could and sent a message to Professor Snape. Sirius, there was so much blood! Now he won't wake up. Madame Pomfrey can't fix him 'cause she doesn't know what's wrong, and…"

"Have you got a calming draught Severus," Sirius said sharply over Harry's distressed ramblings.

The Potions Master was already summoning a phial from the potions cabinet.

"Drink Harry," he pressed the glass into the boy's hand, Harry complied.

"Have you found anything Severus?"

"The spell has left a residue, but apart from that it is proving difficult to identify. Dumbledore knows more about it but is not saying anything. I suspect that he knows who the culprit is."

"I bet it's Umbridge," Harry muttered.

Snape shook his head, "No it was a student, that much is clear. I have researched the location of all of the staff, at that time Umbridge was providing training instruction to several of the teachers in the staff room," he said the last with palpable derision.

Sirius looked horrified, "Where would a student even find that sort of spell?"

Severus shrugged, "Who knows, such books have long since been removed from the library. I have also investigated the location of every one of my Slytherins and I can guarantee that it wasn't one of them."

"Slytherins aren't all bad you know," Harry said sleepily.

"Indeed, we are not," Severus' lip twitched as Harry lay down. "Now put your hand in here."

He placed a crystal bowl on the bedside table, Harry practically groaned as he placed his hand in it.

"What if she comes in tonight?" Harry asked in a small voice, earning a look from Snape.

"It is unlike you to be scared?"

"She…some of the marks on my hand are from her not the quill," he admitted. "And when I looked her in the eye, it made my scar hurt. I checked my protections and found a large crack."

"Have you…." Sirius began to ask.

"As soon as I was out of the room. Draco was waiting just outside, so I hid for a bit, and used the time to look at them."

Meanwhile Severus was inspecting his hand. "The potion will get rid of those marks, but I will discuss an ongoing treatment with Healer Addison. I believe I can make a paste that will help remove the scarring from the quill."

"Thank you."

"Now if there are no more surprises. I will cast a detection ward around the pair of you. That way if someone comes in, I will be notified."

"I would appreciate it, Professor."

When the task was done, Harry bade the man goodnight and he left.

"Harry?"

"Mmmm."

"I'll be up to visit you tomorrow, ok?"

"Mmmm."

"Alright, Goodnight son."

He stood watching the boy as he slept. Originally, he had thought that with a couple of spells he could build on what his apprentice had done. Oh yes, he had recognised the spell, and the good thing was that he was probably the only one in the Isles that could. He had been mildly impressed that the girl had the power to make it work and that she had not been caught. He wondered what the deepest desire of the boy was and how it could be used.

His intention had been to look into the boy's mind. There was still a niggling doubt about tattoo and the boy's wand. If he could use the right spells, he could peek in and answer the question once and for all. Not to mention knowing the boy's desires would undoubtedly be the means to his control. A twist here, a prompt there and he would have another pawn under his control. Teenage boys were so predictable in their desires, it was unlikely Percival Graves was any different.

A movement caught his eye, he had not been aware that another student was currently requiring Poppy's attention. Taking a step closer he tried to see or feel who it could be. Then he felt it, the ward, but what did it do? Who had placed it? They were clever, able to completely hide who had cast the spell, that meant they had probably cast it with runes. Unfortunately, that meant it could have been cast by anyone from fifth year Runes up. Stepping forward he felt the ward activate, nothing happened. Perhaps one of the fifth years then, maybe they had worried about being disturbed overnight and had placed a silencing ward around their bed. They were facing away from him, and were rather petite, must be one of the fifth-year girls, some of them were rather titchy.

There was the scuff of a step at the door.

"Madame Pomfrey?" the baritone voice of the Potions Master echoed through the space. He glanced around, "Oh Headmaster, what are you doing up so late?"

"Just doing rounds. What are you doing out, Severus? Surely you need to be up early for lessons in the morning."

"Hmm, unfortunately a group of my Seventh years have finally realised that they have their NEWTs shortly and that their future careers are reliant on the results. They now need to face the fact that their ambitions are both within their grasp and at risk in equal measure. Needless to say, I now need to ask Madame Pomfrey to supply me with a half dozen calming draughts."

"You don't just make them up yourself?"

Severus Snape blinked once, "Headmaster, the school has a Healer for a reason. She is aware of the medical status of every student. Sometimes students are taking potions that I am unaware of. Female students in particular prefer to see the Healer, rather than speak to their male Head of House about some of the potions they require. Mixing potions is never to be taken lightly Headmaster."

"Oh well, I guess you had best get on then," the Headmaster smiled genially, and rocked on his feet.

"Madame Pomfrey!" Snape called out slightly louder.

This drew a sharp look from the Headmaster, "There are students sleeping here, Severus! Just go and get her."

This time his spy genuinely looked shocked, "Dumbledore. I am not entering into a ladies bedchamber uninvited!"

"She is the Healer, Severus," Dumbledore chuckled.

"She is a lady! What is concerning is that she has not yet emerged, as I know that there are several proximity wards that alert her one someone enters the room."

Dumbledore thought it most inconvenient that Severus should know that. He had of course taken them down so that he could enter the room with out her emerging. By the frown on his face Severus was considering the fact. Snape flicked his wand and uttered one of Albus' own spells. A doe shot forth from his wand, paused to take the message and disappeared. Minutes later the Deputy Headmistress appeared, still wrapping her tartan dressing gown around her in her haste.

"Sever….Albus? What is going on?"

"I came seeking calming draughts for my Seventh years, Poppy has not appeared. I have been her for perhaps a quarter of an hours and Albus was here already. I was worried that she might be unwell."

With concern printed clearly on her face, Minerva hurried to the door at the end of the room, which led to the Matron's office and then her chambers.

"What is going on?" the bleary-eyed woman asked, as she emerged.

Severus stepped forward and began to discuss his students.

"We will have to investigate the wards in the morning Albus." She covered a yawn with her hand. "If that is all. I think I will return to my bed. You should do the same Albus, you aren't as young as you used to be. Go on." She shooed him from the room.

Madame Pomfrey released Harry early enough the next morning that he had enough time to go to the Tower to shower and change his clothes before breakfast.

"Where have you been?" a voice demanded as he entered the common room. "You never came back last night. We had second years in here crying all evening, you might not like the attention but they look up to you and you need to set them a better example."

"For your information, Hermione. I was released late from detention, and became unwell on the way back so I went to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey only just released me," Harry paused briefly in his path to the stairs.

"Really?" the fifth-year prefect, looked him up and down. "Well you look alright to me. I'll be checking and if…"

"Oh, would you just shut up! I don't know how many times I have to tell you that you are NOT my mother. Madame Pomfrey is not going to tell you anything about me or my treatment. She is a Healer. She has taken vows. One of them ensures patient confidentiality. And before you ask, the reason I was in there is none of your business. Now excuse me but, I am going to have a shower."

He stalked up the stairs, refusing to listen as she continued calling out to him.

"Argh!" he groaned, flipping open the lid of his trunk.

"Are you alright? You never came back after detention?" Neville asked, as he pulled on his shirt.

Harry threw his clothes onto the bed, "Yeah, went to see Madame Pomfrey. She just let me go. Do you think we can prank Hermione at the same time as we get Umbridge or will that make it too obvious that it is us?"

"What's she done now?" Ron asked as he emerged from the shower.

"The usual, harassed me about where I was last night."

"It probably is too obvious, but we can save it for later. You alright?"

"Yeah, better than last night. I have to talk to Colin about…."

There was a knock on the closed door and the boy himself entered, "I…I thought you might want these." He held his hand out, there were several photos, showing the injuries caused by the Quill.

"These are perfect, thanks Colin."

The boy gave a megawatt smile at the praise and dashed out of the room to finish getting ready for the day. Harry grabbed the letter he had written he previous evening, folded it around the photos and posted it into the mailbox.

"At least I made one person happy today and it saves me from having to find him."

"You better hurry up and get ready, I'll wait down in the common room."

"Thanks mate," Harry grabbed his clothes and hurried in to shower.

"Did you even get wet?" Seamus asked when he joined the others a few minutes later.

"Yeah, but only just," Harry shook his head raining water droplets on them all earning him a chorus of protests. In some sort of unspoken agreement, they formed up around Harry for the walk to breakfast.

They sat grouped around him as well, effectively stopping Hermione from moving closer to Harry, though she glanced at him every few minutes. Harry had barely buttered his toast before he was interrupted.

"Oi, we've been looking for you!" Fred said as he grabbed Harry under one arm.

"Yeah, come right this way," George grabbed him from the other side, and they lifted him up and over the seat and dragged him from the Hall.

"Guys!" Harry protested feebly as they deposited him in an empty classroom. "All I wanted was a little toast."

"That'll wait."

"This is more important."

"We are geniuses."

"Or would the correct term be genii?"

"Sounds too much like Genie,"

"Right you are Forge, Geniuses it is."

"Yes, yes, you're both very smart," Harry said blandly.

"Oh, he agrees!"

"And he doesn't even know,"

"What we did yet!"

"I knew he was always,"

"Our favourite." The pair grinned at Harry; it was quite a frightening sight.

"What have you done?" It sounded slightly more accusatory than it should have.

"What have we done, he asked!" Fred looked at George in astonishment.

"Only created exactly what he was asking for, that's what!" They grinned at Harry again.

"What I….Oh!"

"Oh indeed, Harrykins," said George, pulling four brightly coloured vials from his pocket.

"This one," Fred pointed to the container on the far right, "Will make you sound like a toad."

"This one," George pointed at the phial next to it. "Will make you think like a toad."

"This one," Fred, tapped the next. "Will give you the skin of a toad."

"And this one," George touched the last, almost lovingly will give you the shape and size of a toad."

"In combination, they will turn you into a toad," they summarised.

"Wow…just wow! Have you tried them yet?"

The two looked at him, "Well I tried dog!" Fred admitted.

"And I did cat!" added George.

"Lee did spider," they shook their heads. "Strange lad, said it was really interesting though."

"No we haven't tried toad,"

"But the others all worked."

"Each lasts about two hours."

"Have you got enough to…"

George pulled another four vials from his pocket, holding them out to Harry with a grin.

"What do I owe you for these?"

There was that smile again!

"Just to test one product for us," George shrugged.

"No," Fred protested. "Think George, we could bargain for much more than that. What about, having a few Harry Potter endorsed products?"

"Oooh, or we could use a Harry Potter likeness in our….."

"Shush, that's not ready yet. What about….."

"No, too toxic yet. Then again…"

"Alright, before you two get carried away. I will test four new products for you. No more no less. No using my name or image in anything!"

"Done!" they nodded firmly and held out their hands for Harry to shake, and he had a sudden feeling of dread.

"Shite, I've got to get to class," Harry left the room quickly.

"Always, dashing off somewhere our Harry," said George staring at the doorway, through which Harry had just disappeared.

"Always so busy," agreed Fred.

"Pity he didn't take these with him," said George, looking down at the phials in his hands.

Just at that moment, Harry ran back into the room, snatched the eight phials out of George's hands and left again just as quickly.

"I was going to hold them to ransom," George pouted.

"Next time, brother next time," Fred patted him on the shoulder.

George frowned, "Forge? Did he say he had class? It's Saturday."

"Shite! Quidditch!"

"Did Harrykins just prank us?"

"Gred, I am so proud right now."

"Be proud later, Quidditch now!" They ran out.

Harry's mind was racing. The twins were brilliant, absolutely brilliant, but how on earth were they going to get her to take four different potions, well, really five? How could they use them to greatest effect? It was times like these that he wished that he was still friends with Hermione. Actually no, Ron was a great strategist, he would talk to Ron. He also had experience with dealing with Fred and George's pranks. He slid into the vacant next to Neville and tried to put it all from his mind and concentration on the game that was about to start. He hoped that the twins made it in time.

Angelina had cornered him mid-week, in the corridors between classes to thank him for pointing her in the direction of Ginny. She had apparently fitted well into the team. As a side benefit, the extra practices meant that Ginny had not had time to follow him around. There had still been some heated glances and eyelash fluttering but it did seem to be petering out, for which he thanked the Gods.

The Gryffindor team emerged from the locker room, complete with their beaters, which was a relief. He would have to be careful of any retribution that might occur, though he was hopeful that he could continue to distract them with pranking Umbridge. With the shrill sound of Madame Hooch's whistle, the players took to the air.

Two hours later Gryffindor took home the victory with Ginny catching the snitch. The pitch was filled with the rush of cheering Gryffindors as the other students poured from the stands back to the school for lunch. It took the Gryffindors some time to join the others in the Great Hall, but they did make it eventually. Harry sat with his back to the rest of the room, Ron on one side of him and Neville on the other. Fred and George had slapped him on the back as they walked past and congratulated him on a prank well played.

Boom.

The large double door giving access to the Great Hall were pushed open by Sirius Black with a crash. Then he smoothly stepped to the side. A woman appeared in the exact centre of the doorway, lit by the sun that flowed in through the front doors to the Castle. She was stunning, tall and elegant in her floor length robes of crushed violet, which made her skin glow and were joined together at her waist with a gold clasp. Several of the Purebloods gasped.

Harry turned at the noise, smiling when he realised who had arrived.

"Albus Dumbledore," her strong voice resonated through the room, easily audible to everyone.

"Sera," the Headmaster boomed back.

"I have told you before not to refer to me with such familiarity," she replied. "I believe we have much to discuss."

"Now Se…" Her hard look caused him to pause, and he corrected himself, "Madame Picquery while your presence honours us. You may not enter the school without invitation, so I am afraid you must leave."

However, the ex-President of MACUSA pulled no punches, "Can it, Dumbledore. What have you done to my Godson?"

Strangely he looked confused, "I am not sure what you mean?"

"My Godson. What have you done to him?"

"I assure you; I have done nothing to him. Now I will have Hagrid show you out." The big man stood.

"A guardian may enter the school anytime the child in their care is injured just as you are obligated to advise every guardian should the children in their care be injured in this school Dumbledore. Percival was injured and you failed in your duties. I can only assume that this is because you are responsible, now take me to my Godson."

"I am sure the boy is fine, now Hagrid if you would…."

"Take. Me. To. Him. Now!"

Harry stood, "Aunt Sera, I'll show you the way."

"If you ever prevent me from seeing my Godson again Dumbledore…" she glared at him as she turned to Harry. "Harry darling, how have you been?" As he reached her, she took his hand and allowed him to lead her from the room.

"Now if we could return to our meal."

"One second Dumbledore," everyone had forgotten that Sirius was standing by the doors.

"Ah, Sirius. Again, I must insist that you leave the grounds, if you could take Madame Picquery with you, I would appreciate my boy," he smiled genially, eyes twinkling.

"Oh you miss understand me Headmaster Dumbledore, I am not here to talk to you. I am here to talk to Delores."

"Professor Umbridge," Dumbledore clucked.

Sirius looked amused, "Oh? What qualification does she have Dumbledore? Her OWL and NEWT results are available for all to see at the Department of Education. I happen to have visited there before I left the Ministry today. I wonder what I found?" He tapped his chin. With a grin he looked at Delores Umbridge. "An A in defence at OWL level. A result that was too low for her to take it through to NEWT level. Which is a requirement for teaching is it not?" He grinned showing all his teeth. "Oh and no teaching degree either."

"Be that as it may, My Boy. Professor Umbridge was appointed by the Ministry, so you will have to take it up with them. It appears you have wasted your trip."

"I am not your Boy, Dumbledore," Sirius shook his head and practically stalked up the middle of the room, like an apex predator. He turned his attention to the Defence professor. "You have harmed the Heir of an Ancient and Noble house."

"Me?" she raised a hand to her breast and fluttered her eyelids shamelessly. "I am sure I never would."

"Let me be more specific. You have harmed my Heir."

"You are no Lord!" she scoffed.

"Oh, it appears you are behind the times, Delores. If you had read your master's last missive, you would know that I have taken up my family title. I am Lord Black."

"You were disowned!"

"Again you are behind the times, my mother may have thrown me out of her family, but the Lord Black at the time was my Grandfather Arcturus, who named me his Heir."

She blinked, slowly and licked her lips, "I have not hurt your Heir!"

"Professor Umbridge would never hurt me," a voice piped up from Sirius' left.

He turned to look and frowned at the blonde, "Why on earth would a Malfoy be Heir Black?"

"My mother is a Black," Draco said pompously.

"Cousin Cissa, ceased being a Black the moment that she ignored the Family motto."

"No, she didn't!" the blonde protested. "My father was a pureblood."

His statement was met with a shark like grin, "Except that the Motto was meant to honour the magic of family. When she failed to use the Black primacy over Malfoy to stop her husband from abasing himself before a man who was literally in the process of killing magic, she refuted the family."

"But I am the only male Black left. Therefore, I am the Heir!"

Sirius actually laughed, "You are not." He glanced around the tables, "There are four males of the Black family sat at the Gryffindor table right now."

"No there's not!"

"Yes, there is. Fredrick, George and Ronald Weasley, Grandsons of Cedrella Weasley nee Black. Not to mention that Neville Longbottom is the Grandson of Callidora Longbottom nee Black." All four boys blushed, as Sirius turned back to the front table. "Regardless, there is only one Heir and he has been injured. Consider yourself on notice Delores."

"I am sure this is all a misunderstanding, My B….Sirius. Isn't it Professor Umbridge?"

"Oh, yes Headmaster," the foul woman simpered. "I am positive that I have never injured the Heir of any of the important houses."

"So, you deny having Harry James Potter in detention, and using a Black Quill," there were gasps from the Ravenclaw table, "on him?"

"Oh but he isn't…."

"He is my Godson and Heir," Sirius said bluntly. "There will be a reckoning Delores." He turned on his heel, with an impressive swirl of his robes, and stalked from the room.

"Do you reckon he has been taking lessons from Snape?" Fred asked George.

"Indeed!"

Far to the South of the School, the midmorning light, filtered through the open window and onto the man's face. As had happened for the last six days, he flinched and groaned. This time though, this time he managed to open his eyes. Mouth sandpaper dry with eyes to match, he knew he did not have long. Tonight was the night, there was little doubt that his body would not be able to withstand the change. Burning pain was his world. Redness spread up his leg as the infection ran rife. There was a faint noise followed by a putrid smell. It seemed that the infection had become so great that it had pushed the knife from the wound in a flow of pus. Gagging he turned and spat bile onto the floor. His gaze fell onto the implement, stained with his own blood.

His mind turned the fact over, and over, and over. Somewhere in the fevered depths, an idea caught. He wriggled himself closer. Lying on his side, he managed to half bend and half roll into a seated position, with the knife mere inches away. More wiggling, he ignored the shooting pains through his leg, as the wound began to bleed anew. Careful positioning got him to a place where he could lean back and grasp the knife. It was raised and twist, there was a risk of cutting himself which he steadfastly ignored in favour of the small rubbing motion. The vibration through the ropes binding him, re-opened the wounds on his wrists. After an eternity they fell apart with a snap, and his shoulders burned as they finally moved freely.

Darkness greeted him like an old friend.

An hour later he returned to himself, as the chains rattled on the door to his prison. Quickly he placed one hand over the bracelet on his wrist and whispered his prayer with a sob. "There's no place like home." Just as the barn door was pulled asunder.

"Tell me everything Harry?" Seraphina asked the boy at her side as they made their way to the infirmary and tell her Harry did, helped along by her insightful questions. When they reached the door to the hospital wing, she knew what to expect.

Alerted by the Headmaster, Madame Pomfrey was waiting. She said nothing as the most powerful woman in the world entered her domain, the woman only had eyes for her Godson. She pulled the closest chair up beside his bed and took his hand, closing her eyes she lifted it to rest the palm against her own cheek. Releasing a shuddering breath, she opened her eyes and looked at the Matron.

"I will see his records now. As his guardian I am entitled to view them," she added when the woman appeared on the verge of protesting.

The papers were summoned and placed in her hand.

"I dare say that you will not understand them."

"Madame Pomfrey, did you know that before becoming the President of MACUSA I was an Auror? Specifically I was their field medic. A qualification that I only allowed to lapse, twelve years ago. Besides if I do not understand something then it is your responsibility to explain it to me. However, the notes seem clear. Though testing on this side of the pond seems somewhat different. then I am used to."

She drew her wand and cast a number of spells. Stopping when one produced a bell like sound. She hummed thoughtfully before casting a Patronus and sending it on its way.

"Who have you asked to come?" Harry said with great interest. "Do you know what the spell is?"

Aunt Sera shook reached out a hand and ruffled Harry's hair, "Not quite. Though I believe I have seen it before, and I know someone who should be able to identify it."

"Who?"

"Nicholas Flamel."

"But he's dead!"

"I beg your pardon?" Seraphina asked.

"He…he's dead. Dumbledore told me at the end of my first year."

"Why would Dumbledore know that Nick is dead?"

"He was his apprentice, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was, but they had a falling out. Some argument over the uses of Dragon's Blood, I think. They haven't spoken in years."

"But Dumbledore hid Mr Flamel's Philosopher's Stone here, and Riddle nearly found it, but I pulled it from the mirror. Which I realise was stupid now. If I had just left it alone, he would never have been able to get at it. And Dumbledore said that the stone had been destroyed, leaving only enough elixir for Mr Flamel and his wife to put their affairs in order and then he would die!"

"That is very strange Harry. Still I can assure you that Nick and Elle are still alive and well, as they were at one of the functions, I attended last week."

"Oh!"

"Any success?" Sirius asked as he strode through the door.

"Some," Aunt Sera replied.

"Sirius Black what are you doing in my infirmary?"

"I came to warn Umbridge to leave Harry alone, and to see how Percival was."

He stopped still, pausing as if to listen to some internal dialogue. "I have to leave, Sera. Someone has arrived at Grimmauld Place."

"Master," there was none of the usual joking derision in the Elf's voice now. "Wolf is back, and he is bleeding in the Parlour!"

"What! But Remus is dead to!" Harry said.

"No, he is bleeding on floor, be dead soon," Kreacher stated flatly,

"And remember Harry, we thought Dumbledore was lying. I've been out looking for Remus all week. I had a lead I was going to follow this weekend."

"Bring him here," Harry pleaded. "Madame Pomfrey can treat him."

"No! It's the full moon, tonight!" Sirius said. "He can't be in the school, and the shack isn't clean enough for Poppy to treat wounds in."

"What about the basement at Grimmauld?"

"It's not exactly clean either Harry."

"Dobby! Kreacher how quickly can you and Dobby clean the basement at Grimmauld place so that Madame Pomfrey can use it to treat Remus? It will need to be secured safe enough to keep an unwell, werewolf in tonight."

"Half an hour," the Elves promised before they disappeared, not waiting to be actually asked to do the task.

"Please Madame Pomfrey," Harry was pale and shaky now. He had felt so guilty about the Flamel's and to hear that they were alive was a great shock, not to mention that as the week went on and he had not heard from Sirius that he had found Remus, he had begun to think that Dumbledore may not have lied at all.

"Yes of course. I'll just go pack a bag." She ran towards her office.

"Harry?" Seraphina looked at the boy in concern. He was breathing rather rapidly. "Sit down." She levitated another chair over and forced him into it. "It is ok."

"But Dumbledore said!" He stared at her with a wild look in his eyes. "Is there anything that he has told me that is the truth?"

"I am afraid I do not know. We will take this as a warning, and double check any information he gives us. Do not take anything he says at face value."

"Are you staying?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yes, I think I can manage at least overnight." She reached out and picked up Percival's hand again.

"Did you miss him?"

"Who? Percival?"

Harry nodded, "From before."

"Yes, we were very great friends. I often wondered what had happened to him. Strangely enough when I went home this time, we found…well we found him. It was truly horrible. I will wait until he is well before I tell you that story though."

"Grindlewald wasn't a nice man."

"Definitely not, though he was very talented at both magic and manipulation."

"Like someone else."

"Just like that. In fact, they were very close at one time I believe. Enough of that. Nicholas will get here as soon as he can. Now what is going on between you and my Godson?"

Percival had been wandering around the white expanse for a while. There had been a brief moment when he had first arrived where he had visions of a future life with Harry after everything was over, but since then…nothing. Just a feeling of waiting.

Finally, there was some movement. The mist that covered everything, swirled and eddied. A dark shape was slowly drawing nearer.

"Oh good. I wanted to talk to you," the voice caused the hairs to rise on the back of Percival's neck. He had not wanted to hear from this God again. "Just what do you think you are doing?"

"I am doing what you requested. I have introduced oaths and educated Harry about magic."

"That's what Magic wanted! I wanted you to help my favoured!"

"I have been. His knowledge has improved."

"You have been doing exactly nothing!" Death griped.

"I have not. I have been building his confidence," Percival protested.

"What about our red herring?"

"I showed it to him!"

"And did nothing to follow it up and keep him intrigued. Currently, because you have not been showing your knowledge of powerful spells, he thinks that it is a sign of your vow to defend the world against people like Grindlewald. All you have been doing is pussy footing around and flirting with my favoured. I am all for him having some fun in his life but that will not do. Dumbledore needs to think that you are the Master of Death. That you have been granted my powers and blessing, or else he will not leave MY Harry alone."

"But…."

"You are MY sword and have done nothing to show it, you underplay both your knowledge and power during lessons, and the things you have been teaching my favourite have been nothing more than diversional therapy for the lad. He has real power under there somewhere and I expect you to teach him how to find and harness it!" Death snapped. "Not to mention that he will need to know how to duel."

"He needed to recover first! His body would not have coped with any greater spells!"

"In the meantime, you leave him exposed to attack! He is undefended and unprepared."

A familiar feeling of warmth emanated from behind Percival, "What?"

"I believe Harry, is waiting for you to return. Think of all the trouble he could be getting into without you? He has been spending rather a lot of time with the Weasley twins." Percival shuddered.

"Which way do I go?"

"One direction is as good as another."

Percival turned and walked into the fog.