The next morning, Harry was in a considerably good mood as he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. Afterall, the Philosopher's Stone was finally in their possession, the ritual had finally been completed and Severus had been informed about his possible involvement in the ritual. They had clearly achieved a lot during the holidays. As Harry sat down at the single long table in the hall, not even Dumbledore's twinkle could dampen his mood. So far, the old coot hadn't set foot near the forbidden corridor on the third floor. Therefore, the theft of the stone remained unnoticed. Harry wondered how long it would last. Tom was convinced that it wouldn't happen until the end of the school year.

What was curious though was the absence of Severus. On one side, he could understand why the Potions Master had decided to forgo breakfast in the Great Hall. Afterall, he probably had a lot to think about. On the other hand, it wasn't typical for Severus to miss meals, but he had heard Professor McGonagall talk to Professor Flitwick that Severus was apparently busy brewing to restock Madam Pomfrey's potions supply. Ignoring their conversation about the arrival of the students later that day, Harry returned his focus on the plate in front of him filled with a delicious full English breakfast. After all the hard work, he felt like he deserved the treat.

Planning on taking advantage of the few hours that he had the common room all to himself, Harry pushed the now empty plate away and rose from the long bench. Lost in thoughts of what he would do, Harry wandered through the hallway leading down towards the dungeons. He was torn between a long hot bath or a few hours of meditation. Tom on the other hand seemed to favour a bit of light reading. Or maybe a visit to the Chamber...

But before they could come to a decision, Harry felt hands on him tugging him into a nearby classroom. Cursing himself for his lack of observation, he immediately reached for his Blackthorn wand to curse whoever had dared to lay a hand on him. He drew his wand in one swift and lightning fast movement that spoke of years of practise while turning towards his abductors. He was about to utter a series of nasty curses but stopped when he came face to face with two identical smiling faces.

"Dear Harrykins," one of the Weasley twins started, "no need to be so hostile…"

"…we come in peace," the other twin continued while both showed him their bare palms, "nothing to worry about."

"Really?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow, refusing to put his wand back into his holster, "after you've been monitoring and trying to follow me for months? Sure. Why have you been spying on me?"

"Not spying," both of them said simultaneously.

"Sure," Harry snorted, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Never in our innocent lives would we ever dare to spy on the precious Boy-Who-Lived ," one twin said, appearing to be offended before pointing at his brother, "Gred and…"

"…Forge," the other twin continued while pointing back at the other redhead, "are men of honour. We value nothing more than…"

"What do you want?" Harry interrupted the rambling.

Instead of being offended by his curt interruption, the two identical grins appeared on their faces, "Talk!"

Rolling his eyes, Harry sighed, "Then talk."

"Dear Harrykins," Fred began, "one night, Forge and I, innocent as we are, couldn't sleep. Being as we are…"

"…we couldn't help but wonder that a certain Golden saviour," George continued smoothly, "was wandering the halls well past curfew… It was like a divine vision that warned us that…"

"You saw me on your map," Harry cut in, "please, continue."

"You know about the map?!" both twins exclaimed in wonder, "but how?"

"You weren't the most subtle," Harry snorted, "and since I don't like being tracked and followed around, I made sure that my name stopped appearing on your nifty little parchment. How I achieved that feat? Well, that remains my secret for now. But coming back to your little story. What did your divine vision show you?"

Much to his surprise, the twins recovered quickly and only a second later, George continued, "Since you already know about the map…"

"…we saw you roaming the seventh-floor corridor," Fred picked up from his brother, before George took over, "the one with the Gargoyle that…"

"…guards the office of our dear Headmaster," Fred said, innocently batting his eyes at Harry, "late at night…"

"…on the Friday after the start of term," George concluded.

Staring at them for a moment, Harry tried to ignore the panicking Dark Lord in the back and instead focussed on the twins, "And what else did you see?"

Shrugging their shoulders, both said simultaneously, "Nothing!"

After a few tense seconds, Fred added, "You went straight back to the dungeons after half an hour."

Tom immediately relaxed, relieved that those two menaces hadn't seen Harry inside Trelawney's office. But he wondered what else they had seen before Harry had managed to disconnect his name from their map and what they planned to do with the information. Sharing his thoughts, Harry eyed the two redheads, "And what do you seek to do with that blackmail material?"

At this, both twins looked clearly offended, "Blackmail? Us?" We would never snitch on a fellow prankster. Never!"

"On the opposite," Gred chuckled, a mischievous spark in his eyes, "we have to confess…"

"…that we are impressed," Forge proceeded, while both twins pulled Harry closer, wrapping their arms around his shoulders in the process, "that swamp truly is a masterpiece…"

"…it truly is, Forge," Fred said, respectfully lowering his head towards Harry, "we admire it…"

"…worship it," George breathed, "never in our wildest dreams would we have thought to come across a fellow prankster…"

"…least of all for it to be the famous Boy-Who-Lived," the other twin spoke equally quiet, trying to cloak his excitement, "and we are curious what else you have in store."

That clearly wasn't what Harry had expected, "Just for the record: you won't snitch?"

After both had shook their heads, he continued, "Then what exactly do you intend to achieve with this meeting except proclaiming your reverence?"

Instead of directly answering, both redheads looked at each other before turning to Harry, an equally determined expression on each face, "We want to collaborate! Share knowledge and elevate our joined creations to new heights. Harrykins, what do you say?"

Harry clearly hadn't expected this turn of events and neither had Tom. But in the end, both decided to give the Weasley twins a shot. This was mostly due to the magical aura of the two menaces. In contrast to the revoltingly Light aura of their piggish younger brother, the twins weren't the Light Wizards everyone expected them to be. In fact, their auras were much darker. Not Dark but definitely on the Grey or neutral side. They were clearly intelligent much unlike the rest of the Weasleys Tom had the displeasure to encounter. From what Tom and Harry figured out during their - and there was no other word to call it - negotiation, the twins didn't vehemently oppose Wizarding traditions as the rest of their family did. It was interesting indeed.

Especially when the two menaces started talking about their business endeavour. They planned to open a joke shop – 'the greatest there ever will be' – and they were currently developing a wide range of products for it. As of now, they were only in the developmental stages of their grand schemes, but they promised to progress soon, once they had refined and perfected their recipes. Tom was more than curious to see what they were working on. It sounded like they were combining Potions, Runes, Charms, and Transfigurations, which in itself was quite a feat considering their age. Working with the twins would surely be interesting and might prove useful in the future.

In the end, both parties agreed that for a possible collaboration, a demonstration of their talents was in order. Harry promised to show off some of his skills later that week while Gred and Forge would reveal to him some of their projects in development. The only thing Harry insisted on was a vow of secrecy. The twins didn't object since it went both ways and thus, would protect both parties. Overall, Tom and Harry were pleased by the rather unexpected turn of events as they returned to the common room.

When the rest of the Slytherins returned a few hours later, the pair was deeply engrossed in a large necromancy tome dealing with different types of ghosts. Currently, the tome was concealed to look like an advanced Charms manual. Harry had owl ordered it from a rather shady publishing house based in Knockturn Alley that specialised in banned books as well as imported foreign literature. The book certainly contained plenty of banned Dark rituals and curses dealing with ghosts. Maybe, it was time to test out a few those nifty curses and rituals. Binns seemed to be the perfect guinea pig.

Draco, being his usual spoiled and impatient self, immediately confronted him about the Yule Ball, demanding answers to what Harry had discussed with his father. Rolling his eyes, Harry magically silenced the pampered peacock and told him to have this conversation in a more private setting. Draco clearly wasn't happy when Harry refused to follow him to their dorm immediately. At least Harry lowered the Silencing Charm.

An hour later, Harry was on his way to dinner, the rest of his year in tow. Neville was animatedly talking about the latest plant he had received from his Gran – a young Semi-Thaumatagoria, an extremely rare and powerful plant distantly related to the original Thaumatagoria, which was said to bear incredible strength-enhancing properties. Tom and Harry would certainly keep an eye on Neville's developments with the plant.

Once they entered the Great Hall, Harry's eyes wandered immediately over the sea of black robes. As usual, the atmosphere at the Hufflepuff table was a merry one whereas a lot of Ravenclaws were deeply immersed in the books in front of them while occasionally remembering to take a bite off their plates. The Slytherins were scheming while the Gryffindors were as obnoxiously loud as ever. Speaking of the lions, Weasley was already stuffing his face, gravy dripping off his chin right on his washed-out robes while his mischievous twins were blowing kisses in his direction. Although Tom knew that there was hardly anything serious about the twins' antics, he couldn't stop feeling possessive. This was HIS Harry and HIS Harry only.

"Shut it," Harry suddenly brought the brooding Dark Lord out of his thoughts while making his ways to the Slytherin table, "look at Granger."

And Tom did. Much like at the start of the year, Granger sat alone at the end of the long table. The gaps she had slowly started to close to her peers over the last few weeks were back again. But that wasn't what struck Tom most. It was Granger herself. Her normally immaculate robes were crumpled, and her hair was even bushier than usual. She had bags underneath her puffy eyes she desperately tried to hide behind her curly locks. Still, even from the opposite side of the Great Hall, Tom could see it. Something definitely was wrong. But when Harry tried to confront her after dinner, she had already disappeared.

The next day wasn't much better. Granger shunned any contact like the plague. At the Gryffindor table, she kept as much distance from her housemates as possible. In class, she would hide herself behind a huge stack of books. Not even once would her hand be in the air nor would she raise her voice to answer questions like she usually did. Something was clearly bothering her.

At dinner, Granger barely touched her food. Ten minutes in, she suddenly pushed her plate away, stood up and fled out of the Great Halls, tears running down her face. Avada-green eyes followed her leaving the hall. Sighing quietly to himself, Harry contemplated on what to do next. Should he follow and confront the brash Gryffindor, or should he leave her to herself. Surprisingly, Tom suggested to follow her, suspecting that something had gone horribly wrong during the Yule holidays. Bracing himself, Harry, pushed his plate away and was about to rise from his seat, when he felt a hand on his arm, "Please tell me this isn't about Granger? I know she's spent time with us doing her homework but that doesn't mean anything."

"You've seen how she's acted today, Draco," Harry said, a frown forming on his face.

"But why should you be the one?" Pansy suddenly asked, "she's a bloody Gryffindor! Let them take care of themselves!"

Around her, people nodded in agreement. Theo even went as far as stating that a filthy Mudblood certainly wasn't their problem, while Millicent and Rhea started a heated argument about Granger. Only Neville and Blaise remained silent. Ignoring all the protest, Harry rose from his seat, "It's none of your business if I'm going after her…"

"But she's a Gryffindor!" Daphne whined, trying to reach for Harry's arm yet failing. Suddenly, Harry's eyes turned steely, making his year mates flinch, "I don't care what you say and who she is. She might have been sorted into Gryffindor yet none of those brave and heroic lions care for one of their own. Instead, she is ridiculed and laughed at. She's an outcast in her own house and if there's one thing that I hate it is bullying. I'm checking on her no matter what you say because somebody has to. Cover for me should I return past curfew."

Not bothering for their replies, Harry quickly left the Great Hall. When he reached the entrance hall, Granger was already gone. Cursing quietly, Harry quickly ducked into a nearby alcove and pulled out his map. Hopefully Granger hadn't retreated to Gryffindor tower but a glance at the map revealed that the tower was empty bar the Weasley twins. A couple of minutes later, Harry groaned as he stared at the small black dot with the name Hermione Granger.

Oh, the irony.

Shaking his head, Harry placed the map back in his pocket and headed for the stairs. A few minutes later, he stood in front of a familiar set of doors. He only hoped that Myrtle wasn't inside. He could do without the wailing ghost. The door opened with a soft crack and Harry slipped inside the usually deserted girl's lavatory on the second floor. Granger's uncontrolled sobs resonated from the high ceiling. The stubs of a few candles bathed the room in a dull light, eerily accentuating the hidden entrance to the Chamber of Secrets. Ignoring the sink with the defective tap for now, Harry headed for the stalls from which the sobs seemed to originate, silently coating the room with privacy and proximity wards. Most wooden doors were flaking and scratched. One of them was even dangling off its hinges. Stopping in front of one of the better ones, Harry heard the sudden intake of air before Granger's trembling voice echoed through the lavatory, "Go… go a… away!"

"That's not going to happen, Granger," Harry replied firmly, "not unless you tell me what's wrong."

"Ha… Harry?" Granger asked in disbelief, "you… you can't be… be in here! This… this is a girl's la… lavatory! What if they catch you in… inside of here?"

To that, Harry snorted, "As if anybody would ever come in here, Granger! Because of Myrtle, every female student of this school stays as far away from this lavatory as possible and you know that. That's why you came here in the first place. Please come out and talk to me."

"No! Leave!" was Granger's stubborn reply and the sobs continued.

"That's not going to happen, Granger! After all, I, too, am very stubborn. I will wait here until you'll come out yourself," Harry said firmly, before sitting down on the floor. Leaning against the closed door of the stall right next to the one Granger was hiding inside, Harry pulled an ancient Alchemy tome out of his satchel and began to read. He would stay the night if necessary, although he hoped that the stubborn Gryffindor would exit the stall sooner than that.

In the end, it took nearly three hours until he could hear the faint rustling of clothes. Moments later, he heard the latch of the stall slide back. Up closer, Granger looked even worse than during class. Her bushy brown hair was all over the place obscuring most of her face. But despite the hair, Harry could easily spot her red puffy eyes and the streams of tears, both fresh and dried, behind those wild curls. Her entire body hidden underneath her crumpled Hogwarts robe was shaking. Before he knew what he was doing, Harry pushed himself off the floor, discarding the Alchemy tome and wrapping his arms around Granger. Burying her face in his shoulder, Granger continued to cry. Minutes passed as his robe became wetter and wetter. Finally, Granger untangled herself from his arms, her eyes on her feet, "Sorry, Harry… This is just so embarrassing…"

"Shut up, Hermione," Harry said firmly, "something is clearly bothering you and it has to come out. If you want to talk, please do. That's what friends are there for."

"Friends?" Granger said, looking up from her feet, her eyes open wide in surprise.

"Yeah, friends," Harry said, rolling his eyes, "after all our little discussions and the time we spent together, I think it is a justifiable statement about the two of us. Don't you agree?"

"I… well," Granger stuttered in confusion before her eyes suddenly lit up in shocking realisation, "wait, you called me by… by my first name…"

"And?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrow.

Granger looked at him incredulously, "But… but no… no… nobody does that!"

Now it was Harry's turn to look surprised, "Hermione, I seriously cannot be the first one to call you by your given name. Your parents…"

At those last two words, her face turned sour, tears beginning to form in her eyes again.

"Hermione, what about your parents?" Harry asked quietly while stepping forward to once again wrap his arms around her trembling form. And then, the words erupted out of the young Gryffindor like a volcano, "They… they've never… never called me by my name… For as long as I remember… And then during Christmas… I… I… It's just so… convoluted… I… I don't even know where to start…"

"What about the beginning?" Harry suggested while gently rubbing her back.

"It's… it's a long story," Granger said, looking up from his shoulder with red and puffy eyes, "who would listen to the story of my miserable life? Nobody!"

"A friend does!"

Granger looked at him for a moment, clearly speechless, before her legs gave away. Harry's strong arms were the only thing keeping her upright. As it became clearer and clearer that the Gryffindor would not regain her footing, Harry gently pulled her down with him on the floor. A moment later, the sobbing witch was wrapped in his arms, most of her body resting on his crossed legs. Granger was surprisingly light for her age. After a few minutes, Harry gently brushed the strands of wild hair out of her face, his Avada-green eyes directly meeting with her brown ones, "What did they do to you, Hermione? I would be most relieved if you would tell me. Please, I'm only trying to help you."

Granger closed her eyes for a long moment before the words finally erupted from her mouth. It seemed like Granger couldn't remember the last time her own parents had called her by her first name. Instead, they called her an "abnormality", a "freak", and a "disgrace". It all started when Hermione showed her first signs of accidental magic shortly after the start of preschool. Hermione had always been surprisingly bright for her age and the children at preschool had bullied her mercilessly for that. Without any friends and the teachers constantly looking away, her magic had lashed out to protect her. But the bullying continued nevertheless and unfortunately, the teachers soon realized and told her parents. Instead of siding with Hermione, Mister and Misses Granger scolded their only daughter for such abnormal behaviour, telling her to keep any negative attention away from their family. After all, Mister and Misses Granger were respected dentists, who only socialized with the elite. After her parents declined to send her to another, though far less prestigious preschool, the bullying continued as did the bursts of accidental magic. The outbursts got only worse once elementary school started and the scramble for grades began. Soon, Hermione was so distressed by the bullying and the pressure of her parents that her accidental magic began to show at home. Not being able to explain those abnormal things happening around her, Hermione began to isolate herself, burying herself in her studies. But again, the bullying didn't stop. After a particularly nasty incident that led to a handful of bullies bleeding out of their ears and losing their hearing for several months, the teachers declared that they were at their wits end. Urging the Grangers to change schools, they finally gave in and Hermione transferred to another, though less esteemed school. Although the bullying finally stopped, Hermione kept to herself, shying away from her peers. Life at school became more bearable and Hermione received top grades, but the problems did not vanish. She still suffered from uncontrollable magical outbursts and the constant scolding by her parents in combination with their disapproving glances certainly didn't help. It was tense at home. Always.

And then one day during the summer holidays, the answer to all those weird happenstances stood in front of their door. It was quite early, and the Grangers hadn't left for work yet. Praying for her parents to finally leave so she could go down to prepare breakfast herself, Hermione was hiding in her room when the doorbell rang. A minute later, Hermione was called downstairs. Upon entering, her jaw dropped. In front of her stood the most oddly dressed woman she had ever seen, introducing herself as Professor McGonagall. Finally, Hermione had the answer to all her questions. She wasn't a freak but a witch. It was magic she had been doing all along and she would go to a magical school to learn how to control it. Her parents appeared to be relieved by that revelation and easily agreed to send her there and pay for her tuition. Since they had to work, it was arranged for Professor McGonagall to take Hermione to Diagon Alley to acquire her school supplies. After an eventful day of shopping in the magical alley, an overwhelmed and happy Hermione returned home only to find the house empty. For the next few weeks, her parents shunned her like the plague. Maybe they needed time to adjust to the revelation? Or they were too busy? Deciding not to worry too much about her parents, Hermione buried herself in her new books and tried to learn as much as possible about the magical world, sure that she would be the brightest witch Hogwarts had ever seen.

But while she excelled in classes, the Wizarding world was different than she had expected. Again, they rejected her. Because she was a Muggleborn. Born of lesser blood. And because of her brash behaviour, as Harry had pointed out. In hindsight, she regretted how she had treated those around her, especially since this had been her first real opportunity of making friends in years. But on the other side, she had never learned to behave differently, be outgoing and sociable. Only how to be competitive and to protect herself by distancing herself from all those who would hurt her. Overall, it was a great mess and she prayed to whoever was listening to be granted a second chance. It seemed that at least Harry was willing to help her. And maybe her parents would finally support her, now that they knew about magic.

But all her hopes and dreams were shattered when she returned home for the Christmas holidays. While she was picked up from King's Cross station, she didn't see much of her parents soon afterwards. The house was empty. On the morning of Christmas Day, it all erupted. Hermione made her way down the stairs to join her parents in the sitting room like she would always do on Christmas Day. But when she entered, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her parents weren't dressed in their usual casual jumpers. Instead, they looked like they were ready to go out. When Hermione asked what they were doing, her father only laughed, telling his daughter in her face that they wouldn't spend Christmas with their freak of a daughter, the abnormality who did not go to the esteemed Mayfield school or Eton college like the children of all their acquaintances. In curt words, Hermione was informed that all of the Granger's acquaintances had been told that she attended a boarding school far away in New Zealand and would stay there most of the year. Nobody would miss her. Especially not her parents. To them, their freak of a daughter had stopped existing. They had left after that. Whenever Hermione did see her parents throughout the remainder of the holidays, they were cruel. When she was finally dropped off at King's Cross, she was told that it would be beneficial for her health to remain within her freakish world throughout the next holidays.

The silence was heavy in the air after Hermione had finally finished.

"That's quite a story," Tom remarked in the back. Harry hummed in silent agreement, before turning to Hermione, "Thank you for sharing this with me, Hermione."

A loud sob erupted from the bushy Gryffindor, "It's just… It's so messed up, Harry… I… I don't know what to do… It's all my… it's all my fault… I'm just… what they say I am… And even here at Hogwarts I can't make friends… It's…"

"Hermione, stop it!" Harry's voice boomed through the gloomy lavatory, "I am your friend and I'm sure you will make many more! Just be open minded, kind and give them a chance to accept you. Just like you've done before the holidays. As for your parents, well, I can understand that you are torn and conflicted… And frustrated… But right now, there isn't much we can do. You won't have to return to them for at least five months if you stay here for the Easter holidays. Thus, I suggest you focus on your life here, study, exercise your magic and try making friends. Don't worry about them too much for now. And secondly, it's not your fault…"

"But I was born with this… condition!" Hermione screamed, jerking away from Harry's arms, "I am the Witch! I am the one with magic…"

"Stop, Hermione," Harry spoke, his voice dangerously calm, "if your magical abilities are anybody's fault, it is not yours! Magic simply does not pop up anywhere at random. It's inherited. The offspring of two Muggles could never be magical. Thus, one of your parents must carry the trait within their genes. Although it's dormant. But it has to be there. I suppose one of their ancestors must have been magical. Or at least a Squib, magical offspring who cannot access their magic. So, if anyone is to blame for your magic, it's your parents."

"What?" Hermione gawped, her jaw slightly unhinged and eyes open wide.

That had been the exact same reaction Tom had had when Harry presented him with the results of the Inheritance Potion the two of them had brewed during Harry's third year of elementary school. Although Tom had always suspected it, he had never personally investigated this particular theory of the origin of Muggleborns. After several heated arguments, Tom and Harry had simply decided to brew an advanced version of the Inheritance Potion used by the Goblins to determine if one was eligible to obtain access to abandoned vaults of Wizarding lines that had long died out. Since Harry's mother was supposed to be a Muggleborn, the theory was easy to test. After the ingredients had been ordered via owl from the apothecary of Knockturn Alley, the potion, though complicated, had been easily brewed – with the most surprising results. Tom had stared at the long sequence of lines connecting the ancestors of Lily Potter for what seemed like ages. He simply could not believe it as he stared at the name. THE name.

Corvinus Gaunt.

The Corvinus Gaunt.

Lily Potter né Evans was a direct descendent of Corvinus Gaunt, who at one point had been the last living scion of the Slytherin line. Tom had always thought that Corvinus had only fathered one son, Maheshzar, to whom Tom was directly related to. But according to Lily Evans' family tree, there had been a daughter as well, Sylvaine. Tom could only guess that she had been a Squib and thus been removed from the family tree and left in the Muggle world to fend for herself. This in itself was most surprising, since at that time most Squibs had been killed instead. Purebloods had only much later started to spare their non-magical offspring. Why Sylvaine Gaunt had been left alive therefore was a wonder in itself. And nothing but ironic. Oh, the irony. At least it explained Harry's aptitude for Parselmagic and was once again an indication of how equal Tom and Harry were.

"Hermione, I have always been wondering about the origins of magic," Harry said, bringing Tom out of his thoughts, "and shortly after Halloween came about, this research paper from a Japanese Wizard was published. He claimed that all Muggleborns are in fact the descendants of cast out Squibs and that after several generations, magic sometimes breaks out of its dormant state. Anyway, since I had the dungeons basically all to myself and plenty of time at hand, I decided to confirm the theory for myself. Since my mother is said to be a Muggleborn, I could easily test it out. Thus, I brewed an Inheritance Potion and it's true. She really is the descendent of an ancient Pureblood line. If you want to, you can test it out yourself since I brewed too much of the potion."

Hermione stared at him for a long moment, "But, Harry, not that this isn't fantastic… But how is this supposed to help me…"

"You could easily figure out if you are related to any of the ancient lines," Harry said shrugging his shoulder, "and if there are vaults at Gringotts for you to claim, you can take the Inheritance test at the magical bank as well. For me, nothing but good things have come out of it. Not only did I discover that my mother was in fact not just a Muggleborn, but that my godparents are still alive. I contacted one of them and he agreed to adopt me."

"That's great, Harry!" Hermione said with sad puffy eyes, "but why?"

Harry's lips curled in distaste, "Because I was forced to grow up with my magic hating relatives, my mother's sister' family to be precise. Sadly, I'm all too familiar with your situation, Hermione."

And then, Harry told her about his own miserable childhood at the Dursleys', although leaving out the parts when he and Tom had changed the house dynamics. Once he had finished, Hermione looked at him for a long moment, "Harry, that's worse than even my childhood… I… I… don't know what to say… But I'm glad that you managed to get out of there… I… I only wish there would be a way out for me as well…"

"But, Hermione, there is," Harry said with a firm voice filled with determination, "just take the Inheritance Potion and we'll find out if you are related to any of the magical families. I'm sure they would be delighted to welcome you in their ranks. After all, there is nothing more important to the ancient lines than their family and preserving the continuation of their name and legacy. You wouldn't be so alone anymore in the magical world."

In the end, Hermione accepted to take the Inheritance Potion. She also promised to focus on her magical education and life at Hogwarts, leaving the decision about her parents for a later date.

When they left Moaning Myrtle's lavatory, it was already well past curfew. Sensing the dread of the Gryffindor, Harry quickly pulled the Invisibility Cloak out of his satchel, threw the cloak over the both of them and silently escorted Hermione to the entrance of the Gryffindor common room hidden behind the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Thank you, Harry," Hermione whispered almost inaudibly, still hidden underneath the cloak, "you can't imagine how much this means to me. Thank you for being my friend and coming after me. Nobody has ever done that for me…"

Harry then felt her arms wrapping around him, before she breathed a 'good night' into his ear. A second later, Hermione had already spoken the password and was gone.

The next morning, Harry was already sitting in the Great Hall, enjoying his porridge topped with a wide array of fresh fruits, when the other Slytherins arrived at the long house table.

"I can't believe you're already up," Draco shook his head, an incredulous look on his pale aristocratic face, "how do you manage to go with barely a few hours of sleep without looking like you're about to drop dead?"

"Don't know," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders before focussing on his breakfast. For the next few minutes, he was bombarded with questions about last night. But Harry remained silent. After all, it was Hermione's secret to tell and not his. Internally, he sighed in relief when the sound of hundreds of fluttering wings announced the arrival of the post. A large package was dropped in front of Draco, nearly knocking over a large pitcher of pumpkin juice. The blonde quickly went on to unwrap the parcel and busied himself with his usual sweets from home and thus, finally stopped pestering him with questions. Turning away from the Malfoy heir, Harry's eyes landed on the newspaper in front of him. Suddenly, his lips curled into a sharp smile, joined by Tom's hearty yet simultaneously sinister laughter. It seemed like Fudge had swallowed the bait at the Malfoy Yule Ball and taken Harry's words to heart, as he stared at the title page of today's Daily Prophet.

Minister announces extensive education reform.

Much to the surprise of everyone, Minister Cornelius Fudge announced drastic shifts within the current education system. In the presence of the entire Hogwarts Board of Governors, the Minister expressed his dissatisfaction with the exceedingly declining OWL and NEWT results and the high failure rate of the Auror and Unspeakable training programs. To ensure the best possible education of all Witches and Wizards, the current curricula, educators, and the selection of classes will be reviewed and, if needed, be restructured. For this, an independent commission of educational experts will be constituted immediately. Furthermore, the funding of Britain's sole magical school will be validated extensively. According to the Head of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, Lucius Malfoy, "Hogwarts has been critically underfunded for decades, which in turn has led to the overall decline in student performance. The school has fallen from one of the top educational establishments to mediocrity, now ranking only fifth in the international school ranking. This must change. We simply have to invest in the future. Therefore, the Board of Governors support the extensive revision and reorganisation completely." Minister Fudge…

Harry quickly scanned the rest of the article. Overall, he was more than satisfied with Fudge's efforts. Fudge promised an extensive increase of the school's budget, mostly to raise the wages of the currently underpaid staff, augment the overworked staff by hiring additional personnel, replenishing and modernizing the school equipment, renovating the castle itself as well as updating the wards of the school during the summer holidays. The Minister had certainly picked up a lot of his points.

Contemplating on using an Eavesdropping Charm, Harry focussed his attention on the staff table, curious as to how the teachers would react. Using the Charm was not necessary. Madam Hooch seemed to be more than happy that the school might finally be getting new brooms, while Professor Sprout was eagerly enumerating the new plants she intended to buy to Professor Flitwick. While Quirrell was avoiding everybody's eyes as usual, most teachers seemed to be excited about the education reform. Only the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall were quietly talking to each other, probably discussing the way the Ministry was trying to interfere in Hogwarts.

Suddenly, Harry felt eyes on him. Severus was directly looking at him. His face was blank, yet his eyes did betray him. There was a current of emotions swirling inside the obsidian orbs, demanding an explanation. Mouthing the word 'later', Harry turned back to his breakfast, finishing his porridge. Scanning the Hall, he noticed that Hermione was not sitting at the Gryffindor table. But after last night, that was hardly surprising. He grabbed a few pieces of toast, spread some jam on top and wrapped them with a napkin. He then grabbed his satchel and rose from the bench.

"Where are you going?" Pansy asked with her shrill voice, looking at him with a questioning expression on her face, "breakfast isn't over for another fifteen minutes?"

"Calm down, Pansy," Blaise suddenly interfered, "we all know where he is going…"

"But," Pansy began, "she…"

Only to be interrupted by Blaise again, "I'm sure we will meet him at Charms."

After confirming Blaise's assessment, Harry quickly left the Great Hall, making his way to the Charms corridor. Much like expected, Hermione was already waiting there, her face flushed but clearly looking better than the day before although a bit tired. She was sitting in front of the classroom, hunching over what Harry guessed was her Charms homework.

"Are you feeling better?" Harry asked, making her look up from her work.

"Harry, good morning! I didn't hear you," the bushy Gryffindor greeted him, "I was just…"

"…submerged in your Charms essay," Harry chuckled, "I suppose it's finished at least."

The corners of Hermione's lips curled into a faint smile, "It is. Although I missed breakfast because of that and much needed sleep."

"That's why I brought you breakfast," Harry smiled, handing her the napkin he had been carrying. Hermione's smile brightened as she accepted the toast and eagerly tore into the first slice, bringing out a "Thank you" between bites. Chuckling quietly, Harry reached for his satchel. With silent and wandless Summoning Charms, he easily produced two crystal vials out of the depths of the magically expanded satchel, "Hermione, the smaller one is a Pepper Up Potion. It should help you stay awake in class today. The other one is the Inheritance Potion I talked about last night."

At that, Hermione stopped eating, looking up from her toast with wide eyes. But before she could say anything, Harry continued, "I've included the instructions. They're fairly easy. Nothing too overly complicated. Just do it whenever you feel ready. I don't want to rush you. You decide."

Later that night, Harry found himself roaming the dungeons. Hidden underneath layers of Disillusionment Charms, he was on his way to one of the many abandoned parts of the castle. It was mind boggling how little of Hogwarts was frequented on a regular basis. Harry guessed that at least half of the castle was practically deserted, abandoned and forgotten, especially the dungeons. Sure, both common rooms and dormitories of Slytherin and Hufflepuff, the Potion classrooms and laboratories, the kitchen and house elf quarters as well as Severus' personal quarters were located in the dungeons. But even together, they only occupied a fraction of the levels below the surface of the school. Sure, the now defunct Alchemy track was quite large, but there was so much more.

Taking another case of stairs downwards, Harry found himself on one of the lowest accessible levels of the dungeons. A thick layer of dust covered the old granite floor. The walls were covered in cobwebs and the meagre candle stumps looked like they hadn't been light in ages. The cloying and musty scent of slow yet steady decay was heavy in the air. But despite the gloomy appearance, the magic radiating from the corridor felt odd. Somehow, it felt Darker than the rest of the castle and Harry had a good idea why.

Ignoring his gloomy surroundings, Harry strode past dusty and flaking paintings. Some of them were in such a state of disrepair that they had ceased to move. This part of the castle really had been neglected for too long. After a while, Harry reached the end of the corridor, which appeared to be nothing but a blank withered stone wall. To either side, the wall was flanked by faded wooden doors. But Harry wasn't interested in any of them. Instead, he stared at the wall reaching out his magic. And then, he started to hiss. Slowly, the Parselmagic started to take hold and the stone began to shift. A minute later, he stood in front of a regal-looking ebon door with iron fittings. Harry felt the Dark magic oozing from the door. Without further ado, he grabbed the golden handle and entered.

Inside, time seemed to have stood still. No dust. No cobwebs. Pleasantly flickering candles lit the room. The carpet underneath his feet looked like it was new. The paintings on the wall, mostly silently hissing serpents, were in pristine condition. And lastly, the thick tomes in the countless shelves smelled of fresh parchment. Overall, the strong Preservation Charms in the room seemed to have done a wonderful job. Yet the Preservation Charms were not the sole reason for the pristine conditions. House Elves had been here not too long ago. It wasn't difficult to guess who had called the Elves. The one who had called was hoovering a feet above the air right in front of him and staring at Harry, his jaw slightly unhinged.

"A founder's heir has returned to Hogwarts," the eerie voice of the ghost echoed through the room, accompanied by the metallic jangles of the heavy chains moving above his cloak covered with silvery shining blood.

"Good evening, my Lord," Harry replied with a low bow.

"Thy evening shall be blessed by Magic herself, Mister Potter," the Bloody Baron spoke softly, his voice barely above a whisper, "for I hope thy return marks the commencement of Hogwarts' rise to its former glory."

"Fret not, my Lord," Harry's lips curled into a smile, "for I shall take this task upon my shoulders. But for that, I need help."

The Bloody Baron eyed him for long tense seconds, before he straightened himself and spoke in a much deeper and clearer voice, "Then I am to your service, Heir Slytherin."

The next morning, Harry was in a good mood when he, followed by the rest of his year, climbed the stairs up to the Entrance Hall for breakfast.

"What is that?" Neville suddenly asked, stopping dead in his tracks.

"Don't know," Pansy said, shrugging her shoulders, "probably nothing. Come on, let's go."

"No, there is something," Rhea gasped, grabbing Pansy by her shoulder, "listen!"

And indeed, there was.

It sounded like quite a crowd. An excited crowd. Some screaming. Some cheering.

"I have to see this!" Draco exclaimed, before setting off. The rest quickly followed.

Keeping a relatively straight face seemed almost impossible when Harry reached the Entrance Hall. The madly laughing Dark Lord certainly did not make it easier. There was literally just one way to describe the state of the usually so pristine Entrance Hall: It was a mess and Peeves was the centre of it.

The orange eyes of the malicious Poltergeist were sparkling with glee as he was watching the chaos he was causing while gently cradling his newest possession – a bright orange and green striped bag slung around his shoulders. Cackling wildly, the Poltergeist performed a few flips before reaching into the bag. Fractions of a second later, he had a pulsating, sparkling pink orb in his hand. Much to the horror of those below him, the Poltergeist began to haul orb after orb, each a different colour of the rainbow, at the students and teachers alike. The hair and skin of those that had been hit began to sparkle in the colour of the orb that Peeves had thrown at them. Rolling his eyes, Harry erected a Shield Charm with a silent flick of his wand.

Soon, students were fleeing in panic, hiding behind statues or suits of armour, or ducking into alcoves, except for the Weasley twins, who were cheering the Poltergeist. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall sent a Patronus to the Headmaster, calling for his help. This seemed to be the thing the Poltergeist had been waiting for, as his throws increased in intensity. Professor McGonagall tried to Summon Peeves' never-ending source of orbs. But the bag seemed to be immune to her magic.

"Peeves!" Dumbledore's voice suddenly boomed through the Entrance Hall, "this is enough! Please hand me the bag, or you will face severe consequences."

But instead of obeying, the Poltergeist now truly burst out into maniacal laughter, while juggling several orbs in mid-air, "But dearily Dumblidididory, innocentily Peevsily here is having so much fun! Dumblidididory should join, too!"

Before the Headmaster could react, Peeves had already hauled several orbs at Dumbledore. His long beard and hair immediately started to sparkle in a nice Slytherin green, while his skin turned pink. Certainly not a good look. After throwing another dozen orbs at the students below him as well as successfully hitting Filch and Professor McGonagall, Peeves fled, chased by Dumbledore and the majority of the teachers.

Once the wild hunt had departed the Entrance Hall, most students came out of their hideouts. Soon, the Entrance Hall was filled with animatedly chatting students, talking about the latest prank of the Poltergeist. Throwing a quick glance at the Weasleys, who were both giving him a thumbs up, Harry finally headed for the Great Hall, with his year mates walking ahead. But before he had moved more than a foot, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Impressive," Severus' familiar drawl, though much more quietly than usual, cut through the air, "although I must express my curiosity as of how you managed to get that ghostly menace on your side. As far as I know Peeves only acts as he pleases."

"Well," Harry smirked, his eyes glinting, while silently erecting Anti-Eavesdropping Charms, "that's where you are wrong. Peeves isn't just a Poltergeist that randomly popped up here because of the presence of all the young Witches and Wizards. Much like the sorting hat, he is a physical manifestation of the Four Founders to guarantee that no harm will come to the castle. You can't imagine how eager he was to assist me."

Breaking the Privacy Charms, Harry left a gaping Potions Master behind and finally entered the Great Hall for a late breakfast.

By Friday night, Peeves was still having the time of his life. So far, no one had been able to stop the Poltergeist. As a result, most, or at least those who could perform the Charm, had taken to walking around protected by a Shield Charm. Still, those who couldn't and those forgetting to put one up bore the marks of the Poltergeist as the colouring effect of the magical orbs lasted 24 hours before disappearing. At dinner, the Great Hall had been populated by a vast array of glittering colours.

Now, it was well past dinner and curfew was approaching. Not that Harry cared. He had a meeting scheduled in an abandoned classroom on the fourth floor. Unsurprisingly, he was the first to arrive. Given the ten minutes he was early, it was as he had expected. Without further ado, Harry began to layer the room with Privacy, Anti-Eavesdropping and Proximity Wards before pulling out his map. A quick glance at the magical parchment revealed that two dots were approaching.

A minute later, the door was thrown open to the laughter of the Weasley twins. But before they could say anything, the door closed behind them, reactivating all the Wards placed on the room. Two sets of identical, glinting eyes stared at him, before one of them, Gred, chuckled, "Oh, dear Harrykins! What a truly…"

"…marvellous performance," Forge continued, "we would be lying if we…"

"… told you that we weren't impressed by your little demonstration of your talents," the other twin proceeded smoothly, "we have tried to…"

"… convince Peeves to join us for years," George quickly added, "but he would only bombard us with Dungbombs or worse. That's why we've been asking…"

"…ourselves," both of them spoke simultaneously, "how in Merlin's beard did you manage to do that?"

Staring at the two red-haired menaces in front of him, a Cheshire grin suddenly appeared on Harry's face, "Well, gentlemen, I cannot reveal all of my secrets just now. Later maybe. But you two have a bargain to keep up to, do you not?"

"Dear Harrykins, of course we are," Gred said, feigning to be deeply offended, before reaching towards his satchel, producing a stack of parchment, "that's why we…"

"… brought some of our finest creations yet," Forge continued, snatching the parchments out of his brother's hand before presenting them to Harry, "I hope you enjoy your first taste of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes."

To say that the Dark Lord was surprised by what he read on the parchment was a major understatement. Sure, all three 'products' were still in their developmental stages and far from perfect, but for two third years to come up with such ambitious creations was a feat in itself. Especially, since most adult Witches and Wizards struggled with Spell creation, Potion development, Warding, and the creation of magical objects. But not the Weasley twins.

Their first creation was quite ingenious and almost perfect. The twins had aptly called the substance 'Instant Darkness Powder'. The powder mostly contained powdered Peruvian Moon Beetles that were then dissolved in a mixture of Fire Salamander Blood, dried Paraguay nightshade and the ashes of the Babylon weeping willow among others. The mixture was then brought to a boil until it turned into a thick, gooey mass. The mass was then removed from the fire, refined with a splash of onyx powder, and slowly left to dry. Pulverized, even small amounts of the substance could be used to instantly darken a larger space, lasting for several minutes. At least with a few adjustments the powder would achieve that. A bit more of the Peruvian Moon Beetles, a bit of concentrated sulfuric acid and some Nightingale feathers and the recipe would work perfectly, maybe even better than anticipated. Overall, the thinking behind the recipe and the calculations were quite impressive, especially for two thirteen-year-olds.

The next invention was even more so. As far as Tom understood the instructions, the Rune-enhanced Potion was supposed to turn the drinker into a canary for a limited amount of time, which in itself was quite an ambitious endeavour given that the Potion was modelled after the actual Transfiguration. While the Potion was far from perfect, the number of ideas and thoughts put into the development was astonishing and spoke of a developing deep understanding of magical theory.

The twins' grasp on Arithmancy became especially apparent throughout their third invention, a hat which was supposed to Glamour the facial features of the wearer without being detectable from the outside. While the Runes needed to be refined, the Magical equations were done quite nicely.

Overall, Tom and Harry were deeply impressed. With a few pointers here and there, the projects of the twins would soon progress past the theoretical stage.

Looking up from the parchment, the smirk on Harry's face grew wider, "Gentlemen, I think it's time for proper negotiations. What do you say about creative and financial cooperation?"