Harry Potter and The Dark Lord's Equal

by ACI100

Ever since his defeat of Grindelwald in 1945 and even before, Albus Dumbledore has been the Lord of the Light, and the leader of the opposition against any who oppose the peace. As natural selection goes however, Dumbledore's time on top is running out, as a new beacon of hope approaches, one who is equally as good as Dumbledore, and possibly even greater. Good Dumbledore All Years

28. LOS Ch 13: Politics and Prodigies

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction based on the Harry Potter universe. All recognizable characters, plots and settings are the exclusive property of J.K Rowling. I make no claim to ownership nor do I make any profit.

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Acknowledgments: Thank you to my betas Umar, Yoshi89 and Fezzik for their work on this story.

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Self Promotion: I have a discord server where you can chat and read all of my chapters early. If you would like to join, simply copy the link on my profile and for . I had to write it in that format for the site to allow it on my profile.

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In addition, you can follow the official ACI100 fanfiction account on Instagram aci100ff or by using the link on my profile to get even more out of my written works.

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Author's Note:

I won't go on about it here since I know you're all here for the chapter, but you may wish to read the AN's at the end of this chapter. in particular, the one where I speak about the timeline for the year.

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Recommendations:

Harry Potter and The Prince of Slytherin by The Sinister Man.

Harry Potter and The Boy-Who-Lived by The Santi.

Growing Up Black by ElvindorkNigellus.

The Hero and The Veela by JackPotter.

Stepping Back, and Honour Thy Blood by TheBlack'sResurgence.

The Mind Arts by Wu Gang.

A Cadmean Victory by DarknessEnthroned.

Magicks of The Arcane by Eilyfe.

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"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.'

Parseltongue.

Memories/In Story Text.

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Harry Potter and The Dark Lord's Equal

By ACI100.

Year 2: The Looming of Shadows.

Chapter 13: Politics and Prodigies.

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December 21st 1992.

King's Cross Station.

6:32 PM.

As the Hogwarts Express rolled into King's Cross Station to mark the beginning of the Christmas break, Harry reflected on what had been a mildly miserable last few days of term following his conversation with Dumbledore. Much to Harry's chagrin, the school had not changed their stance on him. Contrary to that hope, the school had only turned further against him after the attack on Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly-Headless Nick, never mind the fact that Harry was known to be friendly with the ghost. No, it was all part of his elaborate act to trick everyone since he was obviously the next Voldemort. It had gotten to the point after the attack that it became rather dangerous for Harry to walk through the corridors. In light of that, he spent most of his final few days at Hogwarts locked up practicing in the Room of Requirement. Thankfully, his three best friends supported him wholeheartedly and spent most of that time locked up with him. Harry could not help but appreciate that, more so still when much of Gryffindor were simply avoiding him to save their own reputations. Honestly, if Harry was a bit more morally ambiguous, he may have wished an attack would take place over the break. At least then, maybe people would stop blaming somebody who was hundreds of miles away. Then again, knowing the backwards logic that was usually applied to anything and everything in the wizarding world, it would not be all that surprising if that somehow made him more likely to be the Heir of Slytherin.

After all, any society that thought it at all logical to hire Gilderoy Lockhart clearly had some serious issues in terms of fundamental judgement calls.

Honestly, the whole situation was rather depressing to Harry. He had finally found a world where he was not a freak, nor a monster. He had found a world in which he belonged. Sure, he was gawked at for something he could not control and made into some wizarding messiah, which frankly ranked very high on his list of stupid decisions made by wizards. Even in spite of that, and the fact that it irritated him to no end and made him exceedingly uncomfortable, he could tolerate that. But now, for the first time in this new, marvelous world, Harry felt like an unwanted alien once more. It was not an unfamiliar feeling, but the familiarity only made it worse. So much negativity was associated with that feeling. It was honestly just miraculous that they were leaving Hogwarts so soon after the attack. Harry was not certain how much more of that he could have put up with.

"They'll forget about it." Neville assured him kindly just as the train was pulled into King's Cross Station. Harry had been rather quiet for the majority of the ride back to London, and his friend had become quite adept at reading his moods over the past year and a half.

Harry sighed. "I hope so. Luckily for me, you pureblood lot seem to have the attention span of squirrels when it comes to drama and the like, so maybe you're right."

Neville laughed as did Dean and, strangely, Paravati, her sister Padma, and Lavender Brown, all three of whom had joined three fourths of the infamous Gryffindor quartet on their ride back to London.

"You're right, Harry." Parvati said with an encouraging smile just as all of them made to deboard the train. "They'll forget it soon enough. It'll all work out in the end."

Harry smiled back at her. It was an odd sort of friendship he had shared with Parvati. Best he could deduce, she had been the catalyst for much of Gryffindor house leaving him alone. They had formed a sort of easy friendship, even though neither of them knew much of anything else about the other. "Thanks, Parvati." Harry told her just as they were stepping off the train. "I sure hope you're right."

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Meanwhile, At Malfoy Manor.

Lucius sighed as he discarded yet another archived edition of The Daily Prophet. None of them had provided him the answers that he had been looking for. Draco had told him of the events taking place at Hogwarts. All of them sounded eerily similar to stories his father had told him from his own school days concerning the fabled "Chamber of Secrets". Unfortunately, none of the old papers from that time period seemed to have gleaned a thing about the goings on inside the castle and Lucius had to furiously rub his temples in frustration. It was true that a student had died in that time frame, something that was obviously connected, but the perpetrator's identity had not been made public. The only thing that had been said was that the student who had been caught was expelled. Sighing, Lucius decided it was time to call in a favour.

Dear Dolores,

It has been so long since we last spoke, so I feel obligated to inquire about how things are advancing in terms of your goals.

Unfortunately, I am contacting you under less pleasant circumstances than a simple chat, I am afraid. As Head of The Ministry's Board of Education, I am reasonably certain you have access to some records that the rest of us mere citizens may not. I would be… ever so grateful if I could potentially get copies of the records from the 1942-1943 Hogwarts school year. Of course, I would be more than willing to show my gratitude. I have been telling Cornelius for ages that I think you are being terribly under utilized at the ministry, after all...

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Later, At Longbottom Manor.

As always, the first dinner back at Longbottom Manor was positively splendid! It had become a sort of tradition for the elves to prepare heaping plates filled with Harry's and Neville's favourite delicacies on every first dinner back at the manor, and it was a tradition that Harry was very much in favour of. When dinner had concluded and the three of them had finished discussing the less dramatic events of the year, even touching a bit on the fabled Chamber of Secrets and the attacks that had plagued the school since Halloween, Harry thought that finally, at long last, it was time to bring forth a topic that he had been aware of for months now but never had the chance to broach. Evidently, Augusta had become rather skilled at reading him, for her eyes narrowed almost as soon as he began preparing himself for what may come next.

"What is it?" She asked sharply, eyes narrowing.

Harry winced. "Would you… uh, be upset if I told you there was something big I'd waited to talk to you about since July?"

Augusta's lips tightened. "That would depend on your reasons for waiting and how big said news is, I suppose."

Harry shrugged. "I'm honestly not sure how big the news is. It doesn't seem that big but… I don't know. I just have a feeling of sorts."

Augusta sighed. "Harry, you do not do anything in halves. Knowing you as I believe I do, whatever you're about to say is probably far bigger than you even realize."

Harry looked from Neville to Augusta and decided to just come out with it. "You remember on my birthday that we went to Gringotts for the reading of my parents' will?" Both Longbottoms nodded. "Well, we never really had a chance to talk about it with the party, then the tart, and then this whole "Chamber of Secrets" business, but there was something… unexpected in the will."

Augusta tensed and Neville too looked worried, though his showings were more obvious. "Before you go any further, how direct of an impact will this 'surprise' play on you? And, by extension, how important is it?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "That's the thing, I don't know. It seems like it shouldn't matter because of other things, but again… ugh! I can't explain it, I just have a bad feeling." Augusta nodded almost grimly, prompting Harry to continue. With a deep breath, he obliged her by asking a question of his own. "What do you know about Sirius Black and his actions near the end of the war?"

That question seemed to have Augusta thrown off kilter, but she recovered quickly. "He was revealed to be the right hand man of Voldemort after the war's conclusion when he murdered thirteen people, including Peter Pettigrew, who exposed him before his murder." She paused. "I heard… rumours from Frank in the days between the fall of Voldemort and his… tragedy that he had in some way betrayed your parents and directly led that monster to them, but he couldn't say anything more. Oaths, I have always assumed."

Harry sighed. "Most of that is right, from what I can tell, but it's the last part that's important." He could practically see Augusta gearing up for what was sure to be a jarring revelation to match any Harry had made prior. "You know what the Fidelius Charm is?" Augusta nodded and Neville shook his head. "I don't know the specifics," Harry admitted, turning to his friend, "but to make a long story short, from what I was told about it, it's a spell that binds a secret to one person called a secret keeper. Unless you're directly told the secret by that person, it's impossible for you to find it out." Neville looked impressed and Augusta nodded approvingly, signifying that Harry had done an adequate job of summarizing the complex charm.

"Here's where things get interesting." He warned them. "My parents placed the location of their home, or at least, where they were staying under the Fidelius Charm while they were in hiding. Apparently, The Ministry believes that Sirius Black was the secret keeper, the same probably goes for quite a few important people." Harry took a deep breath. "The problem is, Sirius Black was never the secret keeper and he never betrayed my parents. That was Peter Pettigrew."

Deafening silence rang through the room following a short intake of breath from Augusta. Then, about a minute later, she spoke. "So, you think it would stand to reason that Pettigrew likely framed Black of all of those crimes? Supporting Voldemort, betraying your parents, and all the rest?" Harry nodded and Augusta looked as if she were deep in thought. "That… makes a startling amount of sense." She conceded. "If we know that Pettigrew lied about one crime, he probably lied about multiple." She pursed her lips. "I don't see what good this does though." She admitted. "There are eye witnesses that saw Black blow that street to bits and take the muggles, and Pettigrew with it. I suppose he could have been justified for attacking Pettigrew if the rest of this is true, but it wouldn't matter in light of thirteen counts of murder."

Harry hesitated. "Don't cuss me out or anything," he requested, "but is it possible that Pettigrew somehow framed Black for the murders too? Like… he blew up the street but made it look like Sirius did it?"

Augusta did not immediately shoot him down, but Harry could see that she looked sceptical. "I don't see how he could have." She answered. "It would have been very difficult to fool all of those eye witnesses and they found Pettigrew's finger after the attack."

Harry frowned. "Are there trial records for wizarding trials?" He asked. "Maybe the trial shed some more light?" He perked up. "Hang on! The Wizengamot are at the trials, aren't they? Were you not there? Or whoever the Lord or Lady of House Longbottom was at the time?"

Augusta sighed and shook her head. "Frank was the Lord." She told him. "But no, he wasn't there. As far as we know, Black's trial was held behind closed doors in front of a panel of very carefully selected officials. He was sent straight to Azkaban after that."

Harry's danger sense perked up. In conjunction with his feeling of impending doom, that sounded far too suspicious. "Does that mean we can't get the records?"

Augusta shook her head once more. "It shouldn't. It was merely done as a precaution. None of us knew who were Imperiused and who weren't." She scowled. "And who were faking, of course. Either way, those records are mandatorily made public."

Harry looked at her imploringly. "Is there any way you could get a hold of them? I know it's a long shot and if they are public, surely somebody else would have spotted anything off if there is something, but I just… I don't know, I have a bad feeling about all of this."

Augusta sighed but smiled sadly back at him. "It is your history, Harry." She told him kindly. "If anybody deserves to know, it is you. Yes, if it makes you happy, I can do my best to get the transcripts. I have no idea how long that might take, but it shouldn't be too difficult."

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December 22rd 1992.

Gryffindor Tower.

The Second Year Boys Dormitory.

10:23 AM.

Ron groaned aloud as he returned to the land of the living. One of the best things thus far about the holidays was the fact that he could have a lie-in whenever he pleased. Mind you, that fact did not make up for the reality that he was without the other three members of his quartet, but it was a rather nice consolation prize. This morning, Ron couldn't give a damn how much extra sleep he had got the night previous, because it clearly hadn't helped. He was very achy, as if he had been on the losing end of a rather one sided fight. It was just a constant throb, but still painful nonetheless. He also felt tired, as if he had been woken up in the middle of the night, which in and of itself would have frankly been an achievement worth bragging about for whoever had managed to wake him up.

The problem was, none of this had happened.

Ron could remember laying down to go to bed last night and he could say with one hundred percent certainty that he had no memories whatsoever between laying down and waking up, which obviously meant that he had slept like a rock, like usual.

So why did he feel like he had been in a car crash sometime between going to bed and waking up? And worse, why did he feel as if something had gone horribly wrong?

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December 24th 1992.

Longbottom Manor.

7:40 PM.

At precisely twenty minutes to eight, Harry stood in the center of the Longbottom's entrance hall and awaited the arrival of his escort for the night. He wore black dress robes trimmed in an emerald green that brought out the almost ethereal, constantly present glow in his eyes rather magnificently. In addition, he had a small pin just to the left of his chest that showed his family's crest; a fierce looking Gryphon with two crossed swords. The pin had been a present from Augusta for the occasion. As she had put it, the Greengrass's ball the year prior had been a big deal but it was nothing compared to tonight. This would be Harry dipping his feet into international politics at the age of twelve and Augusta was going to make sure he looked and acted his best. Since he had arrived back at the manor, Augusta had been drilling every bit of etiquette she could into him for such occasions.

Speaking of Augusta, she had been rather reluctant to allow Dumbledore, who was his escort for the night, access of any kind to her property, but after a fair bit of convincing on Harry's part, she had reluctantly acquiesced. One day, Harry would need to get to the bottom of Augusta's fundamental dislike of Dumbledore. Personally, Harry felt as if he probably had more sound foundations than anybody on which he could have easily built a strong, everlasting hatred for Dumbledore but he hadn't. The man had been nothing but helpful since Harry's arrival at Hogwarts. He would never "forgive'' what Dumbledore had done in the past, because it had affected his life so drastically and the carelessness with which it was done was unforgivable. Harry would and was, however, looking past said mistakes and giving Dumbledore a second chance. A second chance which frankly, Dumbledore was making very good on.

Speaking of Dumbledore, at that same, precise moment in time, the Longbottom's chief house elf, Hoskins, popped into the room with a tall, thin man wearing shockingly stylish robes. They were of a deep blue colour the same as his eyes, and trimmed in a soft yet eye catching gold. Dumbledore had clearly apparated to the edge of the property, at which point Hoskins had spared him the walk and popped him through the wards directly.

When Dumbledore saw Harry, he smiled. If the fact that Augusta stood behind him and was very clearly doing her best not to glare at Dumbledore bothered him, he didn't show it. "Ah, Harry! A premature Merry Christmas to you." He inclined his head politely to both Neville and Augusta. "Yourselves as well, Heir Longbottom, Lady Longbottom."

Augusta nodded stiffly. "You as well, Chief Warlock." She returned neutrally.

"Well," Dumbledore said, checking a golden watch on his right wrist, "I think it best if we are off. I would like to be punctual, after all." Harry nodded and said his goodbyes to the Longbottoms before throwing a simple black travelling cloak over top of his robes. From there, Hoskins popped he and Dumbledore to the edge of the property. "Have you ever apparated, Harry?" Dumbledore asked him, actually sounding quite curious as he absentmindedly waved his wand and caused a flowing black travelling cloak of his own to appear over top of his robes.

Harry shook his head. "No sir. I've only ever used the floo." He paused. "Actually, I think I might've done it when I was younger, but I never meant to."

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled. "That is a rather wonderful piece of accidental magic." He complimented. "Why, I can only think of one other..." He allowed his voice to trail off before he offered Harry his arm. "I am not sure how much you know about apparition, but it is a means of wizarding transport that allows a wizard to travel large distances near instantaneously."

Harry nodded. "I know of it, but how does it actually work?"

Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head bemusedly. "You would ask such a complex question, wouldn't you Harry? I should not be so surprised. Well, to vastly simplify things, it warps the world around us. Muggles have a similar theory, I believe. I believe they call it a traversal wormhole." He smiled fondly. "They are not the same, but they are similar. When you focus with sufficient intent on arriving at a very specific place, magic makes it happen in the only way it knows how. You are taught in sixth year the importance of intent in the process of apparition. This is so because of the four pillars of magic. Do you remember them?"

Harry nodded. "Understanding, intent, creativity or visualization and power."

"Very good." Dumbledore commended. "I would award points to Gryffindor if we were still at Hogwarts. Now, none of us understand the process thoroughly enough to visualize its components. As a result, we fundamentally can not utilize understanding, which limits us to the other three pillars. Visualization is extremely important because you must have a vivid image in mind of where you would like to travel in order for magic to take you there. Intent is important because you must truly will this to happen. Intent and desire will fill the hole left by your lack of understanding, but it will only do so if sufficiently supplied. Power is the catalyst, if you will. It is what truly warps space and time into what we will call a wormhole for the sake of simplicity.

"As for how it works, you are fundamentally ripping the universe. You are tearing a hole through space and time, which you essentially push yourself through with magic. Many say that apparition feels much like being shoved through a tube. That is the case because being shoved through a tube is precisely what is happening to you, the tube is simply invisible. Wormholes are not some black sphere like in muggle science fiction. We cannot perceive such an impossibility in the universe, so to our eyes, it simply does not exist. Once the hole from point A to B is torn, there is a sort of conjuration involved. You see, without it, gravity would snap the wormhole shut immediately." Dumbledore paused. "Do you know what exotic matter is, Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "No sir."

"Exotic matter, to vastly oversimplify things once more, is matter with a negative mass. Anything with a positive mass is attracted by gravity, so anything with a negative mass is repelled. Think of it as a conjuration, like I have said. You are subconsciously conjuring exotic matter at the edges of the wormhole in order to force it to stay open long enough for you to reach your final destination."

His eyes twinkled. "But alas, we have deliberated for long enough. Come, I am sure Nicholas will wish to meet you before the festivities get underway and the two of us have… things to discuss momentarily." Tentatively, Harry reached out and took hold of Dumbledore's offered arm. "Tighter please, Harry. I may be growing wizened and weak, but I am not yet brittle." He said with a smile. "Better." He said when Harry's grip tightened. "I offer you a fair warning that most witches and wizards alike find their first experience with apparition to be… unpleasant." With the obligatory warning out of the way, Dumbledore spun, his black travelling cloak that he had conjured over top of his robes whipping as the world vanished from around them.

In that moment, Harry knew exactly what Dumbledore meant when he had mentioned the feeling of being compressed through a tube. Except that it was so, so much worse than that. Every bit of Harry felt like it was being pressed forcefully in on itself. His eyes felt as if they would pop from the pressure and he could not so much as hope to draw breath. Thankfully, as Dumbledore had promised, the transportation was almost instantaneous and before they knew it, the two of them were standing very close to what appeared to be an astoundingly stunning coastline with an absolutely massive estate looming nearby. Upon their arrival, Harry staggered but was righted by Dumbledore. There was a moment where he felt the urge to vomit and he did indeed have a bit of a coughing, or more accurately, spluttering fit, but he got over it quickly enough.

"That could have gone worse." Dumbledore said genially. "That was one of several reasons for imposing the admittedly unnecessary walk upon you. I have seen many more… shall we say — messy first attempts, and I did want to save your image from a rather inadvisable first impression."

"Thanks for that." Harry rasped as he took in his surroundings. To Harry's surprise, he no longer felt as if he needed the travelling cloak that was draped around his shoulders. It was warm… like, not a whole ways off of summer kind of warm. "Professor?" Harry asked before Dumbledore could start whatever conversation he wanted to have. "Can you tell me where we are?"

Dumbledore hummed in thought. "I suppose it is not too invasive to Nicholas if I tell you that we are in the French Riviera." He told Harry conspiratorially before getting to business. "We could have simply flooed directly inside the estate, but I wished to speak to you first, so Nicholas was thoughtful and gracious enough to pull the edge of his wards closer to his estate for a brief time."

Harry frowned. "What did you want to talk about, sir?"

"I wanted to warn you, Harry. Though nothing sinister will befall you tonight, you are entering the political arena with some of the best in the world." He paused. "I cannot help you too directly tonight for several reasons. The first of which is that, unfortunately, I do have some politicking of my own to do." His eyes twinkled for a brief point in time. "The second is that I should not show too much outright favouritism towards you, especially given your status as The-Boy-Who-Lived and all of the rest." Harry nodded grimly, he was aware of this already, even if he had no idea if he was ready for it.

"Fortunately," Dumbledore continued, "Nicholas is well aware of these two facts and he is, as I have said, a very gracious man. He has proposed to offer you a sort of… assistant tonight, I suppose. She will be maneuvering for herself and her family as well, but she is very close with Nicholas and he has full and complete faith in her to guide you through the shark infested waters on this most magical evening."

Harry frowned. "Do you know who she is, sir? And why is this a warning? It doesn't sound too bad. Just a bit awkward, maybe."

"I do know who she is, yes." Dumbledore said. "We have never met, but Nicholas has raved about her for the past number of years. She is not what you will be expecting when I describe somebody capable of guiding you through politics." He warned Harry. "For one thing, she is only a few years older than yourself. I believe she is in her fourth year at Beauxbatons, though she turned fifteen a few short months ago, if memory serves me correctly." Harry's eyebrows rose. Dumbledore was right; that certainly would not have been what he would have expected. "There is also the fact that by all accounts, she is jaw droppingly beautiful." He winked at Harry, who blushed. "I am warning you of this in advance because I do not wish to see you made a fool of upon meeting her."

Harry nodded. "Thanks for that." He uttered again, and Dumbledore chuckled.

"I have one other reason for warning you of this fact." He said. "Though Nicholas does have only the best of intentions, I am sure, he would not have offered up his protégé, for lack of a better phrase, without a very set goal. My belief is that he wishes to observe you through her, though he may have a more direct goal in mind. Whatever it is, I am sure it is good and pure and there is absolutely no need to be on guard or to be secretive, but I did want to warn you that Nicholas is nothing if not a master politician." Harry nodded slowly. It made sense and honestly, he figured if he were Flamel, he'd do the same thing. Mind you, he also would not have thought of it, but that was another point altogether.

"Thanks for the warning." Harry said sincerely as they approached the front door. "I'll keep it in mind."

Dumbledore nodded. "I am still technically your magical guardian," he said gently, "I will make it my duty to make up for the sins of the past in the best way I can until the time comes when I no longer fill such an honoured role." Then, the two of them reached the front door and as if it knew they were there and welcome, it swung slowly open.

The first thing Harry thought of when he entered the positively cathedral sized entrance hall and had his cloak relieved from him by an elf was wealth. This place practically screamed of it. There was gold everywhere. The accents, the railings up to the next floor, the mosaics, the picture frames. Harry had never seen nor imagined so much gold before. Far in front of them, several figures were gathered, greeting a few well dressed people whom Harry assumed to be guests. Dumbledore jerked his head towards the figures, signifying they too should make their way towards them. As they were still more than ten minutes early, they were, along with the other guests who were now making their way out of the entrance hall, presumably towards the ball room, the only people in the hall. Combining their early arrival time with Harry's assumption that many of the top political minds in the world would likely arrive fashionably late, he came to the conclusion that most guests probably would not arrive for some time.

Once the other guests were out of sight, the figures turned to face Harry and Dumbledore just as they drew near and Harry had to quickly occlude his mind to prevent himself from gasping and to stop his eyes from widening.

There were six figures gathered, all of whose eyes were now flickering towards Harry, making him mildly uncomfortable as well as stunned. On the far right, two people who were very clearly elders stood. Despite their white hair and slightly wrinkled faces, they appeared to be in rather good shape. Harry assumed that miracle was the work of the real Philosopher's Stone and he knew immediately that those two were Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel. On the far left, a man and a woman stood. The man looked maybe to be in his late thirties, but he had the sort of face that could be deceptive. He could be older, or younger, or he could have nailed his prediction. He was quite tall and he looked very athletic. He was lean but well muscled and had a lithe sort of build to him. He had well styled brown hair, warm brown eyes and well defined, rather aristocratic features. They were marked by a couple of scars, but it did not take away from his appearance. In fact, it only amplified it, if anything, along with the flowing red dress robes he wore.

Standing to his immediate left was the most beautiful woman Harry had ever seen. She was quite tall as well, at least as tall as the average man even if she was several inches shorter than her husband, and had positively angelic features, soft, deep blue eyes and platinum blonde hair that seemed to sway in a non existent wind as it flowed down her back and to her waste. Standing between her and the Flamels were too young women who were very clearly her daughters. They looked to be in their teenage years and were both about an inch or two shorter than their mother. Both of them had the same blue eyes and blonde hair, though the one standing closest to the Flamels had hair that seemed to positively glow in an ethereal sort of way. She had slightly softer features than her sister, too, and had perhaps a very slightly more developed frame. She wore a stunning, sleeveless dress of light silver, whereas her sister wore a stunning dress of deep blue, the same colour as her eyes.

Quite simply, these were the three most beautiful women Harry had ever seen and it wasn't even close. Suddenly, he was rather grateful for Dumbledore's warning. It was very likely that he would have indeed made a fool of himself in front of these three beings who seemed positively ethereal.

Their beauty was such that, until the latter spoke, Harry almost forgot that he was in the presence of and in the same room as both Albus Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel, the consensus two greatest sorcerers alive.

"Albus!" Flamel said jovially, his perfect white robes flowing as he stepped forward to briefly embrace Dumbledore. When they broke apart, Flamel's dark, calculating eyes quickly rested upon Harry and before he could speak, Dumbledore quickly stepped in.

"I suppose that introductions are in order!" He said cheerfully. "Harry, this is my old friend, Nicholas Flamel. Nicholas, as I am sure you have gleaned, this is Harry Potter."

Harry did not react until Flamel had offered his hand, which Harry took quickly. "Ah yes," Flamel mused thoughtfully, "you do look much like your father as Albus 'as told me, though the eyes shine with the brilliance of your mother, and a magic that I dare say neither of your parents possessed in such awe inspiring quantities."

If Harry had not become used to Dumbledore's whimsical ways of speaking, he may have been taken aback by Flamel. "Did you know them, sir?" Harry asked, trying to keep a note of hopefulness from his voice.

Flamel smiled rather tragically back at him. "Not well," he admitted, "though I 'eard a great deal about them from Albus. I did meet your father quite briefly, though I admit I only ever saw photographs of your mother. From what I 'ave been told, she would be rather proud of your apparent meteoric rise in regards to your academics." Harry had to try hard not to blush, but he managed. "I suppose it is my turn to make introductions." Flamel said with a small smile, beckoning for his wife to step forward first. Harry kissed her hand when it was offered, earning himself a soft smile in return. The customs of different countries were a bit different, but Augusta had told him that such a greeting was always a safe bet and could never be taken wrong.

After he had been introduced to Perenelle, the other four stepped forwards. "These four pure souls are the closest thing I 'ave remaining to family outside of Perenelle." Flamel told Harry. "This is the Delacour family, a line I 'ave been close with for many centuries. The charming young man is Jean, and the radiant wife that I once told 'im was far out of 'is reach is Apolline." Jean's lips twitched as he shook hands with Harry far more firmly than Flamel had. Harry greeted Apolline in much the same way he had Perenelle, marvelling at the softness of her skin as his lips brushed against it. "These two shining stars are the youngest of the Delacour family." Flamel said, prompting the two radiant teens to curtsy perfectly to Harry, who quickly bowed in return. "The one in blue is the family's 'eiress, Fleur Delacour." He smiled with a different kind of fondness at the final Delacour. "This young beauty is 'er twin sister, younger by only several minutes, Gabrielle."

There was a moment where Harry's brain froze. This would be who was guiding him through the night's affairs? His gratitude for Dumbledore's warnings only intensified as he greeted both of the Delacour twins properly.

"Albus," Flamel addressed Dumbledore, "would you mind terribly staying to chat as we greet our guests?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Why, it would be my pleasure, my friend."

Nicholas nodded in a satisfied sort of way. "Gabrielle, my dear, can you escort Mr. Potter into the ballroom and keep 'im company while we wait for the festivities to begin?" Harry's brows rose for just a second. He was a bit surprised that Flamel would not want his apparent protege with him to greet the influx of guests to come. He supposed that if she was not the Heiress, it wasn't really necessary. Perhaps he viewed gaining knowledge about Harry more important? That was an odd sort of thought that seriously made him rethink his place within the magical world.

"Of course, 'oncle." Gabrielle said politely. Even her voice was angelic. It was smooth and refined, yet soft and musical all at once. Then, she offered Harry a positively radiant smile that could have blinded him before stepping up beside him. Harry realized it was probably a good idea to offer his arm just in time, and she took it, leading him out of the entrance hall and down a long, ancient looking corridor. The position was a bit awkward since she was so much taller than Harry. He was of average height for his age and she was quite tall by any standards for a woman, but it worked.

Harry tried to think of something to say, something to break the ice but he had nothing. Thankfully, the other girl seemed more socially aware than him, something that was probably meant to be obvious judging by their dynamic this evening.

"Is this your first time in France?"

Harry had to take a moment to answer, almost taken aback by the question. "It's my first time anywhere out of England." He told her as he glanced from side to side, trying to keep track of the dazzling displays of art that had been hung on the walls. "I think this may be the most beautiful place I've ever been to though."

The girl's eyebrows rose. "Is 'ogwarts not beautiful?"

"It is." Harry admitted, trying to figure out the best way of wording it. "It's beautiful in a different way though. Hogwarts is… more impressive than beautiful, I guess. It's the sort of place that takes your breath away because of its aura more than how it looks." He ran the hand that was not entangled with Gabrielle's arm through his hair. "Does that make sense? It's kind of hard to explain."

Gabrielle nodded slowly. "I think it does." She said. "I 'ave never been to 'ogwarts, but I 'ave seen pictures. It seems as if it was built to stand against sieges, not to be beautiful."

Harry nodded. "That's a good way of putting it, yeah. You're a Beauxbatons student, right?" It was her turn to nod. "Fourth year?"

Her lips twitched. "You are well informed, 'arry Potter. One may think you were asking the Chief Warlock questions about me."

Harry had to fight hard not to blush, but he was pretty sure he mostly beat it. "Is being curious such a bad thing?" He asked, earning himself a genuine smile along with a light, musical laugh. In this moment, he internally thanked Daphne for her teasing demeanour. Had it not become a custom of theirs, he was not even remotely sure he would have reacted appropriately in that situation.

"This may not be as difficult as I was afraid of." She told him, almost seeming to relax. When Harry looked confused, she enlightened him. "I was testing you, 'arry." She paused. "May I call you 'arry?" When he nodded, she continued. "I was trying to see 'ow easily flustered you would become."

"I honestly didn't realize you were doing that." He admitted.

She crooked a perfect eyebrow. "You reacted very well zen."

Harry studied her. "You seem way too good at this stuff for somebody who is fifteen."

She gave him a piercing look just as they entered a ballroom that was nearly as large as the entrance hall and every bit as ostentatious. Again, gold was present everywhere as Gabrielle led him towards the front most table. "I would not 'ave expected you to ask zat question." She told him, and when Harry didn't reply, she pressed on. "Were you not told that you should not be able to make a 'ogwarts Quidditch team at the age of eleven?"

Harry stiffened for the briefest of moments in surprise. Then, he realized something that felt a bit off. He had never even felt the impulse to flinch when linking arms with her. It was certainly an impulse that was becoming less pronounced, but that was still a bit odd. "Touché." He conceded. "That seems a lot easier than politics though." As he said this, he stepped around her, releasing her arm and pulling out a chair for her, earning himself a brief but glowing smile as he took the seat opposite her.

"I do not think ze two can be compared in terms of difficulty." She said after a moment of thought. "Zey are both very difficult in different ways. It all depends on personality, upbringing, interests." She shrugged, folding her hands as she peered across the table at him. "You are obviously quite good at Quidditch, so of course it would seem easy to you. I 'ave never been particularly interested in flying, so Quidditch seems impossible for me."

Harry nodded slowly; it made sense. "Fair enough. How did you know about that, anyways?"

Gabrielle tilted her head questioningly. "'ow did I know about what?"

"Me being on the Quidditch team at eleven and that it was sort of a big deal."

Again, her lips twitched. "You are so not what I expected," she said with an easy smile, "but at ze same time, you are everything that I expected you to be." When his frown deepened, she elaborated. "Most people would not act like you do if zey were famous from the age of a year old. Zey certainly would not shrug off being ze youngest Quidditch player in a 'undred years. Yet, if I am correct, you are in Gryffindor 'ouse?" He nodded. "Which is the 'ouse of bravery and chivalry?" He nodded again, and Gabrielle twirled a strand of platinum hair thoughtfully around her finger as if thinking. "Modesty could be considered a chivalrous trait, so in that sense, it was expected."

Harry was a bit taken aback. "And you said I was well informed?"

"All kinds of news outlets ran stories about you when you became ze youngest seeker in a century." Harry's eyes widened at that. He had never known, and now Gabrielle looked a bit surprised. "You did not know?" He shook his head and she frowned. "Yes, it was not front page news in France as I'm sure it was in England, but it also was not very far off. Most people around ze world who get ze paper will have known about it." She smiled. "And I enjoy reading. I 'onestly don't remember when I read about the 'ogwarts 'ouses, but it is something I 'ave always found interesting."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "It's certainly something." He mused, not quite sure how to even begin to explain the complexities of the house dynamics.

"Do you think it is a good thing?" Gabrielle asked him, and Harry found himself taken aback

"The houses?" She nodded and he furrowed his brow. "I've… never actually thought about it, to tell you the truth. It's just something that's such a huge part of Hogwarts that nobody really questions it."

Gabrielle was twirling her hair again. "That is not surprising." She told him. "I suppose everything is easier to think about from an outside perspective."

"Do you think the houses are a good idea?" Harry asked, curious if she actually had a stance on the matter. He enjoyed hearing her talk. He couldn't put his finger on why, but she was bright and insightful in a way that he did not see very often.

She pursed her lips. "No, I don't." She answered honestly. Harry had to applaud her bluntness. If she was worried about offending him, she didn't show it. Harry gave her a curious look, so she continued. "First of all, there is a 'uge problem with sorting children who are eleven years old. There is so much development left for them to do. Zey are nowhere near ze people zey will be in a few years, let alone in seven." Harry nodded thoughtfully. That was a fair point. "Zere is also the issue of sorting by personality traits." She continued. "If you are sorted into a 'ouse with people who 'ave all of the same traits you do, how are you supposed to evolve? Being like minded is ok, but if you are surrounded by people with your same strengths and weaknesses all ze time, you will never grow as a person." She wrinkled her nose. "It can also cause… problems if a 'ouse gains a certain reputation, I would guess."

"You mean Slytherin." Harry asked bluntly.

Gabrielle frowned. "I suppose, but it was a general statement. From what I know, it seems like Slytherin is that 'ouse right now, but who is to say it won't be one of the others in a few decades? All it would take is for a dark lord or lady to rise from one of the other 'ouses and cultivate ze next few generations." She shrugged. "Gellert Grindelwald changed the views of countries in a few years. It's not so unreasonable that the views of a 'ouse could be changed as long as the main traits were upheld." When she saw the slightly awed look on Harry's face, she looked a bit sheepish. "I'm sorry," she told him, "I am rambling. I 'ave a habit of looking too far into things sometimes."

"Don't apologize," Harry said genuinely, "that was actually really interesting. It was just a lot to take in at once. I've… never thought of it like that. I've never even heard anybody bring up any of those points."

She looked a bit surprised, but oddly pleased. "It's all about perspective." She reiterated. "An outside perspective is more reliable a lot of the time."

"Can I ask you a question and have you answer completely honestly?" He asked carefully.

Gabrielle frowned. "That depends on ze question." She said reasonably.

"It's nothing personal to you." He assured her. "A few minutes ago, you said I was exactly what you expected but also not? Could you explain that a bit more?" She looked a bit surprised and he shrugged. "When you were talking about perspectives, it made me think about it."

Gabrielle appraised him. "I expected somebody with a good 'eart, good manners, and all of the rest." She told him. "But 'onestly, I expected you to be more… flamboyant? Is that ze right word?" She frowned. "I think it is. I expected you to be a bit louder, not in volume but in output?" She scowled in a way that was somehow still attractive. "Zis is difficult to explain. But I expected you to be less quiet, less reserved and if you want me to be completely 'onest, less modest than what you seem." She studied him. "Of course, you could be acting, but I don't think so."

Harry frowned. "I guess that would make sense." He said carefully. "I'm assuming you thought I'd be less modest and such because of my fame?" The way he said the last two words made them sound like they were an illness and Gabrielle's eyebrow rose again.

"Yes." Gabrielle said honestly. "You are not though." She assured him. "At least from what I can see." She frowned. "You are actually the opposite, it seems. You do not like the attention, do you?"

Harry sighed. "Not particularly, no. I'm… slowly getting better with it, I think."

"Can I ask you a more personal question?" Gabrielle asked him. She had to resist a frown when she practically watched Harry's posture become more defensive and closed off.

"That depends on the question." He quoted her, managing a small smile at his quip.

She looked surprised for a second before rolling her eyes. "I do not need details, but is it safe to assume you grew up away from your fame?"

Harry's eyes widened. "How did you-" then he stopped, realizing he had just given away the answer.

Gabrielle seemed to catch his slip up, for she smiled kindly. "It's ok," she assured him, "zat was probably a bit of an unexpected question, and you did not give away anything important." She frowned. "If you would not like zat information to be public though, you should be prepared for questions about your childhood. I am sure zey will be asked tonight." When she saw him become a bit uncomfortable, she spoke again. "I will not tell anybody." She promised. "And I will try and keep conversations away from zat topic ze best I can, though I will probably only be able to delay those kinds of questions."

Harry sighed. He was sure that her promise of not sharing information probably did not extend onto Flamel, but if Dumbledore trusted him so completely, he doubted he would do anything nefarious with the information. "Thank you," he said a bit awkwardly. That was another thing he was working on. He hadn't had a whole lot to genuinely thank people for growing up and it still came across as a bit awkward when he did it now. "Not just for that but for… you know, hopefully helping me not make a fool out of myself and all. I'm sure there are better things you could be doing tonight."

Gabrielle laughed again and Harry could practically feel warmth spread through his body at the sound. He did not understand why she was having this kind of effect on him. "You are not zat bad." She told him. "When I first said I would 'elp you, I was worried, but you do not need that much 'elp. Just to know when not to speak and maybe a bit of subtlety. And it is no bother, 'arry. My sister Fleur is ze Delacour 'eiress, so she will be doing most of ze politicking tonight. I will 'ave to drag you along with me to do some, but not too much, I don't think. Besides," she said with a small grin, "I wanted to meet you."

Harry could not help but look surprised. "Why did you want to meet me?" He asked her.

"Well," she said, smirking at him a bit coyly, "you are quite famous. I am sure many of my classmates would wish to be in my position." When she saw that Harry would argue that statement, she shook her head, smirking wider still as a mischievous glint gleamed in her eye. "Oh, you are still so innocent, 'arry. Do not argue, it is true. If it makes you feel any better though, I don't really care about your fame. I 'ad other reasons for wanting to meet you."

Before she could explain further, the sound of many voices began to draw close to the ball room and moments later, dozens of finely dressed witches and wizards began filtering into the ballroom, signifying the beginning of the evening's true activities. Eventually, Dumbledore, as well as the Flamels and Delacours entered the room and took seats at the same table as Harry and Gabrielle. Dumbledore took the seat to Harry's immediate left, which was the seat at the end of the table, not counting Nicholas Flamel who sat at the head, with Perenellee between himself and Gabrielle. Jean Delacour took the seat to Harry's right, as her sister, Fleur, took the seat on Gabrielle's other side. A few minutes later, when the rest of the crowd had settled, Flamel swept to his feet and gave a ringing speech about the prospers of the up and coming new year and what this next day signified. It was well done and when he sat down, blank plates appeared in front of everybody, as well as what appeared to be menus.

When Harry shot a sideways glance at Dumbledore, obviously confused, the man smiled, before glancing at his own menu and then down towards the plate in front of him. "Roast beef and mashed potatoes with a bit of extra gravy, perhaps." He said clearly and in the next second, exactly that had appeared on his plate. Harry's eyes widened for a brief moment before he began skimming his menu. "Your house elves never fail to impress." Dumbledore told Flamel, who smiled widely.

"It is wonderful what 'ouse elves are capable of when treated with some fundamental compassion." The man responded. "Any being will always act more efficiently when they do so under their free will. Magic is marvellous, but it can only accomplish so much, no?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye, glancing towards Harry, "I assume you are remembering the same conversation that I am?" Harry doubted the man would have been so forward if the tables were not so small. He obviously trusted the Flamels and he supposed by extension that he trusted the Delacours.

"The one where we compared different kinds of magic and their impact?" He asked and Dumbledore nodded, smiling. Harry frowned. "Yeah, I do. Not my finest moment."

"Oh, I don't know." Dumbledore said cheerfully once he swallowed his bit of beef. "Your initial hypothesis may have been shortsighted, but your thinking became much more insightful as the conversation progressed."

"May I ask what was being discussed?" Flamel interjected, leaning forward a margin, as if interested. When Harry hesitated, Dumbledore took the lead.

"If memory serves me correctly, we were speaking about the sorts of things that Occlumency can negate at the highest of levels. To make a long story far less convoluted, the topic of memory charms was broached. When discussing their evil, the question of why they were not classified as 'dark' came up, and Harry made a passing comment that he could understand them not being 'unforgivable', but that he thought they should have been classified as 'dark magic'." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "From there, we covered a wide range of topics, starting with the comparison of those curses to the memory charm."

Harry saw Gabrielle's sister narrow her eyes a bit, and the elder Delacours too looked surprised. If Flamel was at all surprised he didn't show it as he looked towards Harry and addressed him directly. "And what, if any lessons did you take from that conversation, if you do not mind my asking?"

Harry furrowed his brow, taken aback by the question. "To not think so shortsightedly, I guess."

Flamel nodded almost encouragingly. "Elaborate."

Harry took a bite of his own food to give himself time to think, chewing slowly before answering. "Well, I think one of the first things I said was that nothing could be worse than the killing curse."

Flamel nodded solemnly as a rather dark air fell upon the table. "Given your circumstances, it is not an unreasonable statement for one as young as yourself to 'ave made. I suppose you saw the flaws in it with time?" He chuckled. "Or, Albus pointed them out, more likely."

Harry nodded slowly. "The killing curse seems the worst because it does the most physical damage right away. I was thinking of 'worst' specific to a moment. Professor Dumbledore brought up all of the things somebody could do with the memory charm. Possibly altering somebody's mind if they were skilled enough." He shrugged, a bit sheepish. "That was also sort of how he debunked the Imperius Curse by comparison."

Flamel nodded. "There is nothing more valuable than the mind." He said wisely. "Any magic that taints such a pure and essential thing is always more 'einous than any magic that simply damages the mind's container." Harry had never thought of it like that.

He looked questioningly at Dumbledore, who nodded. "As I have told you in the past, curiosity is not a sin, Harry. I am sure that Nicholas is open to questions on his most intriguing thesis." When Flamel nodded, Harry pressed on.

"Would that apply to Legilimency as well, sir? I'm just asking because reading a mind is bad and all, but you're not altering it, are you?"

Flamel took a sip of his drink before responding. "Legilimency is a very broad field of magic, my child. For most people, your statement 'olds true. Most never manage true Legilimency." When he could see that Harry looked a bit confused, he elaborated. "Many just think of Legilimency as a way to read minds, but in the 'ands of a true master, it is so much more than just that. In its purest form, true Legilimency can be summarized as mental manipulation of another person. Some call it the opposite of Occlumency and many purists of mind magic shoot that claim down, but it is not actually too far from the truth. Where Occlumency is the mastery and manipulation of your own mind, Legilimency is the same concept, but applied to other people."

"Wait," Harry said cautiously, "so if you were a master of Legilimency, you could actually change the way somebody thinks? And I don't mean just by pulling up their worst memories and making them feel a certain way, or anything like that."

Flamel nodded. "You could, yes but of course, it would depend on the target's skill with Occlumency." He glanced at Dumbledore. "Albus was always a more talented Legilimens than I, where I believe I outshine 'im in the field of Occlumency. We are a good balance, one might say."

"As Nicholas put it," Dumbledore picked it up, "the scope of Legilimency is near limitless. I could feed you emotions that were not yours. I could twist and warp your memories. I could even insert fake memories that, unlike a memory charm, would be most unfortunately undetectable. Truly, Legilimency is a weapon that is limited only by its wielder's creativity."

'Well that's terrifying.'

"You 'ave been learning Occlumency?" Flamel asked him rhetorically. Harry knew the man already knew this, but politely nodded anyways. "'ow far have you come?"

And that led them into a discussion of Occlumency and the advantages and disadvantages of the techniques Harry had been taught so far. It seemed as if he had a very, very long way to go in the field but of course, Harry had been well aware of that fact already. Flamel was similar to Dumbledore in many ways. He was not quite as eccentric on the surface and did not seem to dance around questions and points in the same way Dumbledore did. Despite that, they both had a way of speaking that was oddly similar, and Harry had to wonder if it was Flamel himself who Dumbledore had picked all of it up from.

To Harry's surprise, the next person to snap him out of his musings was not Dumbledore, nor was it Flamel, nor was it the beautiful girl who he had enjoyed conversation with as recently as a few minutes ago. Instead, it was Jean Delacour.

"Do you know of the Delacour family, Mr. Potter?"

Harry paused, searching his bank of memories for an answer. The question may have seemed innocuous, but Harry sensed there was some sort of deeper reason for asking the question. "I can't say I do, sir." Harry answered apologetically. "I haven't gotten too far into politics and such yet, you see."

Something made itself present in Jean Delacour's eyes, but it was gone rather quickly. "There is no need to sound sorry." The man said with a rather sad rendition of a smile. "I 'ad 'oped you would know based on our shared history, but your circumstances were rather different."

Harry's pulse quickened. "Did you know my parents, sir?"

"Not too well." Jean admitted. "I did meet James on a number of occasions, but I never met Lily. I knew your grandfather well though. I saw quite a lot of 'im in my younger years and we kept in contact until the end." The man's face became grim. "It was a shame to find out what 'appened to him."

Harry realized with a mixture of shame and surprise that he had no idea how his grandfather had died, just that he had done so before the conclusion of the war. Harry thought revealing his ignorance probably wasn't the best idea, but he made a mental note to look that up as soon as possible.

"How did you know him, sir?"

If Jean was surprised that Harry didn't know, he gave none of it away. "My father Pierre was very close with 'im. They fought together near the conclusion of the war against Grindelwald and formed a sort of bond both in the political arena and in everyday social life." Jean pierced Harry in much the same way his younger daughter had earlier. "I would be 'appy to tell you more about 'im anytime. Whether it be in person or through letters, though I will be quite busy tonight."

Harry nodded. He figured this was a sort of lure in order to keep Harry interested, possibly even gain his correspondence but he didn't care. If it would get him information about his family, it was a price he was willing to pay. Besides, he didn't think anything nefarious would come of the whole situation. Just then, the desserts vanished and soft, clear music began to play through the ballroom. As everybody got to their feet, the tables all whisked themselves into the corners of the room as the floor opened up for both dancing and politicking.

Before Harry knew it, he had the tall, beautiful blonde girl at his side once more. "Would you care to dance?" She asked him, looking almost hopeful.

Harry resisted the urge to frown. Dancing was not high on his list of favourite things to do. For one thing, he was remarkably out of practice. He had not kept up on the practice after the Greengrass ball almost a year ago and over the last few days, Augusta had been far too busy grilling him on politics to even begin to consider dancing. "You could probably find a better partner." He said honestly. "I'm very out of practice."

Gabrielle just smiled right back at him. "I quite enjoy dancing." She admitted. "I think I am plenty good enough for ze both of us, if you would do me the 'onour?" Harry suddenly found himself trapped. He could dance with her, or he could risk upsetting somebody who had gone out of their way to help him. It was also more than a little bit difficult to look into those enchanting blue eyes and not agree.

"If you're sure." He answered a bit hesitantly, earning himself the most radiant smile yet from Gabrielle as she surprised Harry greatly by taking a tight grip on his hand and leading him onto the dance floor. Thankfully, she led them into a rather crowded part of said floor. Clearly, she had not forgotten about his dislike of attention, and he was quite grateful for the fact.

As Harry placed his hand on her hip and began to move along with her, he realized she had not been teasing him. She really was easily good enough for the both of them. He was out of practice, as evident by the fact that the steps felt a bit awkward. It was also rather different dancing with Gabrielle than Daphne. Daphne had been tall for an eleven year old girl, but there was much more of a difference in height between Harry and Gabrielle due to the gap in their ages. Still, dancing with her was… easy. When she first stepped close to him, there was a moment where he had tensed a bit, moving stiffly for the first few motions. Then he felt… something? It was an odd, content feeling that seemed to massage his brain pleasantly and without even realizing it, the tension left him completely. He had no impulse to pull away from Gabrielle or tense up. Miraculously, he found himself actually enjoying the motions, awkward as they felt. It also helped that Gabrielle had not been bluffing.

Harry had thought Daphne a good dancer, and she undoubtedly was, but she could not hold a candle to Gabrielle Delacour in the art of dance. Daphne was a very good dancer. Her movements were obviously well practiced and it seemed as if she would never make a mistake. Gabrielle, on the other hand, seemed as if she had simply been born to move in this way. It did not even seem as if she had to consider the movements, and it was as if she was simply part of the music, moving in perfect time and effortlessly guiding Harry along with her. It was not just unlikely she would ever make a mistake, the very thought seemed utterly impossible. In spite of himself, Harry was in awe of her by the time the song ended and she smiled gratefully at him before leading him off of the dance floor, not dropping his hand until they were out of the crowd of people.

"Thank you for that." She told him genuinely. "I really do adore dancing and you are not as bad as you made it seem."

Harry blushed a bit. "Having you as a partner helped." He said quietly, trying not to blush even more. "I thought you were joking about being good enough for both of us."

Gabrielle laughed softly. "Non, I practiced dance very strictly from ze time I was three years old until quite recently. I still practice, just not as frequently as I did when I was younger."

Harry nodded. "That makes sense, you're… uh, very good at it."

She smiled softly. "Don't stutter, 'arry. It is counter productive, and zere is no reason to stutter when saying something so simple."

He fought hard against his blush but was pretty sure he only partially managed to beat it. "Care for a drink?" Harry asked, spotting a nearby table full of them. Gabrielle nodded and he made to pull them towards the table but before he could, two glasses of water floated themselves towards them. When Harry turned to Gabrielle, she seemed to be lowering her hand. He blinked; he hadn't even seen her withdraw her wand. That must have been done very quickly. When she caught his look of surprise, she smiled in an oddly smug sort of way, but she did not elaborate.

"You should use magic for things like zat." She told him. "It's like a muscle. Ze more you use it, ze stronger it gets and the easier it is to do things with it. Doing everyday tasks with it is a really good way of building magical memory. It can also be a fun little challenge for some things."

Harry had never thought of day to day tasks like they were training, but it made sense. He supposed that his muggle raised instincts had instilled the impulse to do things manually when presented with the opportunity. "That was non verbal." He told her. "That's fairly advanced, isn't it?"

Gabrielle shrugged. "I 'ave been casting pretty much everything non verbally for a while now. It really isn't zat difficult once you get ze general feel for it." Harry wondered how long "awhile was" but he never got the opportunity to ask. Just then, a man in a rather splendid set of red robes approached them and entered into a rather rapid conversation with Gabrielle. To Harry's shock, it was held mostly in a language he did not understand. It definitely wasn't French either. Near the end of the conversation, when Gabrielle introduced Harry to the man, who turned out to be the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, he figured it was probably Bulgarian. How or why Gabrielle knew how to speak Bulgarian, Harry had absolutely no idea. Harry shared a brief conversation with the man as well, with Gabrielle interjecting when necessary. He spoke in thickly accented English, but it was not so accented that Harry couldn't understand him. When he left, he peered at Gabrielle curiously.

"You know how to speak Bulgarian?"

"I actually learned 'ow to speak Bulgarian before I learned to speak English." She told him with a coy smile. "I can also speak Russian."

Harry blinked. "That's… really impressive, but was there any specific reason for learning so many languages?"

Gabrielle studied him closely. "Politics," she answered vaguely, "maybe I'll explain it more later if we 'ave time, but we should make ze most of zis event first."

And make the most of said event they did.

Harry met the Ministers of Russia, Germany, Sweden, Japan and America. Gabrielle held another conversation with the Russian minister, longer even than the one with his Bulgarian counterpart. Most of the other ministers seemed more interested in Harry, though they did all seem to know who Gabrielle was. They spoke a bit with him about Hogwarts and inquired about his education. He tried his best to find a balance between being impressive but not being boastful. Annoyingly, Gabrielle had been right. Most everybody who they met wanted to know about Harry's childhood. Where had he been raised? Why was he not at these events earlier? Why was it only now that he was here? What had changed? Had he known Dumbledore from an early age? It was not just the ministers that asked these questions either. It was politicians, business owners, and more.

By the time they had been at it for nearly three hours, Harry was growing annoyed with the questions about his childhood. He was running out of deflections and the constant questions were wearing on his patience. Evidently, Gabrielle noticed, for after a conversation with the owner of an upstart American broom company called Firebolt, a conversation Harry had been enthralled by until his childhood came up, Gabrielle politely excused the two of them by claiming to need some fresh air as she led him from the ball room.

When they left the ballroom, Gabrielle led them down a different side corridor than the one they had come down previously. Then, she tapped a positively stunning painting of a coastline with her wand, causing it to swing aside and admit them access to a narrow passageway that led to a glass door leading out of the manor and onto the jaw dropping grounds. As soon as they stepped outside, Harry took a deep, centering breath, exalting in the beautiful sea breeze that seemed to caress his skin gently as they walked.

"Thanks," he told her, "that was getting old very fast." He winced. "Sorry if I acted immature or anything. I probably shouldn't have let it bother me, but,"

"Hush," Gabrielle told him, surprising Harry greatly by gently touching her finger to his lips for a second before lowering it. "You don't need to worry about your reaction, 'arry. You were flustered, but you were still polite and you said nothing wrong." She frowned. "It is quite invasive for politicians to ask a twelve year old boy about his upbringing, especially when 'e clearly doesn't want to talk about it. Harry waited for the questions that he viewed as inevitable. For Gabrielle to ask him why the question bothered him so much, or something of the sort, but she never did, instead she made a smooth effort to divert the conversation.

"Let's talk about something more innocent, yes?" Harry nodded. "Which subject is your favourite at 'ogwarts?"

Harry actually had to pause and consider that. "Transfiguration or Defense Against The Dark Arts." He told her. "I spend quite a bit of time practicing Defense, but I find Transfiguration really interesting as well." Gabrielle nodded. "What about you?"

"Charms is easily my favourite." She told him. "It is also what I am best at, so I'm sure zat plays a part. I also enjoy Transfiguration and I 'ave been told I am rather good at Defense, but I only really care for bits of the subject. Arithmancy and Ancient Runes are also very interesting."

"We don't start those until third year." Harry said with a sigh.

Gabrielle raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Harry paused. "I'm… actually not sure. Because they're complicated, I guess? Maybe the founders just thought it was best for students to get a base first?"

Gabrielle hummed in thought. "I 'ave heard that 'ogwarts is a very good school." She said. "It rarely produces anything but competent witches and wizards." Harry nodded, he had been told for ages that it was one of the very best schools in the world. "I do not think it is the best for talented witches and wizards like you and I though."

Harry blinked at the sudden change of pace. "You and I?"

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. "You can't fool me, 'arry. I noticed your 'abit of understatement in a few minutes after meeting you. If you are telling all of zese politicians that you managed ze top grade in most of your subjects, you must be better zan you have even told zem." Harry flushed a bit at being caught out so easily. Gabrielle hid a giggle behind her hand. "You blush at the silliest things." She told him. "You must learn 'ow to take a compliment. You will be getting a lot of zem in ze next few years."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that, even though he suspected that Gabrielle had a point. "I'll… keep that in mind." He told her. "What did you mean about Hogwarts not being the best for more talented students?"

"Like I Said, 'ogwarts rarely produces anything but competent witches and wizards. From what I 'ave been told by you and others, 'ogwarts teaches students in a way zat is very difficult not to understand. Zey start very simple and work their way up, not just in content but in classes." She shrugged. "At Beauxbatons, we start Ancient Runes and Arithmancy in first year. Many students do not do well in the class, quite a few even fail. But zose of us who do well are much, much better for it. Zose two subjects explain a lot about how magic works. Just on that, zose of us who do well probably understand magic more after our first year zan most 'ogwarts students do at the end of their second year. Zose two subjects are two of the foundational branches of magic" She shrugged. "It seems like the main goal of 'ogwarts is to produce as many competent witches and wizards as possible. At Beauxbatons, the school's goal is to produce as many outstanding pupils as zey can. If you cannot keep up at Beauxbatons, zat is your own problem but if you can, you are usually quite advanced by the end of school."

Harry mulled that over in his brain. Gabrielle seemed to have a habit of bringing things to his attention he had never thought of before. Perhaps it was just their age difference, but Harry suspected it was more than that. "That actually sounds like a pretty accurate description." He admitted. "I wish we had started Runes and Arithmancy right away."

"You will take zem next year?"

He nodded. "I've… already sort of started learning them on my own time, but I'll take the classes next year, yes."

Gabrielle smiled. "See? Is it so difficult to admit you are ahead in something?" Harry fought hard not to blush. He didn't completely succeed, but he mostly managed. "You are learning." Gabrielle told him with a light laugh. "You should be proud of your accomplishments, 'arry, not 'ide zem. You should not be boastful, but it is not a bad thing to admit to being very good at something as long as you are 'onest. Take me, by example." She told him. "Did I not tell you I was a very good dancer before we danced?" He nodded. "And was I not telling the truth? I was not overstating my abilities, was I?" He shook his head. "Yet I do not think zat you view me as any less for stating the truth?"

Harry shook his head again. "Touche, I guess." He told her with a weak smile.

Gabrielle returned it. "Let's practice, shall we? 'ow good are you actually in the wanded subjects?"

Harry shrugged, looking a bit sheepish again. "I… don't actually know how to answer that question." He admitted.

"I can think of a way." Gabrielle said with a small smile, pulling her wand from her sleeve smoothly and twirling it between her fingers. "Let's see for how long you can keep up, oui?" With a lazy flick of her wand, Gabrielle conjured a sparkling dinner plate. Then, with another wave, the plate split apart into a flock of birds. Harry had no idea how to conjure a plate like that, but he knew the spell she had used to create the birds was Avifors. With another twitch of her wand, she created a second plate and held it in front of her, raising an almost challenging eyebrow expectantly.

Harry summoned his wand from his holster with a well practiced flick of his wrist. He saw Gabrielle appraising the implement, but he didn't comment. "Avifors." He incanted, waving his wand and creating a flock of birds almost identical to the one Gabrielle had a moment earlier. If he was feeling a bit braver, or perhaps if this had not been the first task she had come up with, he may have tried the spell non verbally. As it was, he had only practiced a few spells that way, and almost none of them focused on visualization. He would rather not look like a fool in the first round.

Gabrielle graced him with a smile before she conjured two small, silver hairpins. She held them both in the palm of her hand before pointing her wand, turning one of them into another large flock of birds. She held her hand out in front of him. "Do you know why this will be more difficult even though it is the same spell?"

Harry thought for a moment. "There are two reasons, right?" She nodded encouragingly. "The main one is that you transfigured something very small into something a lot bigger. You created more matter out of less matter, which is harder than last time because it was about equal from plate to birds."

"Mmhm." She said, clearly enjoying this.

"You also didn't use a wand movement." He frowned. I've never actually tried this spell without wand movements. I've only really done that for the spells that I think are more useful." He pointed his wand and focused hard, imploring every bit of Supplementary Occlumency he could on his intent. "Avifors." To his relief, it worked even without the wand movement. The flock was maybe one or two birds less than what Gabrielle had conjured, but if she noticed that, she didn't comment. Honestly, Harry was just happy he had managed it without the wand movement, even if he was a bit annoyed how easily she had bested him. That wasn't even taking into account the fact she had yet to speak an incantation aloud.

"Well zat was a very good first attempt." Gabrielle told him. "Let's make zis a little bit more difficult." She waved her wand and conjured two rocks. One was dull, grey, and shapeless. The other was shaped like a bird and painted red. Then, with a wave of her wand, the two rocks switched easily.

Harry sighed, this one he could do; he had practiced for ages before the feast. "Regimo." He said lazily, smirking at Gabrielle as he effortlessly switched them back.

She raised an eyebrow. "'ow is it zat you were worried about no wand movements for a second year spell yet you effortlessly used almost none for a fourth year spell?"

"Like I said, I've practiced some stuff without wand movements." He shrugged. "That spell's kind of a long story."

She sighed. "Right, hmm… let's see, something more difficult." She pointed her wand at one of the two rocks, and it promptly vanished.

Harry thought for a moment before shaking his head. "I'm out," he told her with a sigh, "I have no idea what the incantation is, let alone how to do it."

Gabrielle smiled as she waved her wand, vanishing the other rock. "Zat was a late fifth year spell, so I am not surprised. The incantation is Evanesco, if you were interested." She appraised him. "Zat was very impressive." She said honestly. "So you are somewhere in ze fourth year curriculum for Transfiguration, it seems?"

"I'm hoping to finish it by Easter, but we'll see."

"What about in Charms?"

Harry grinned. "You really do like your charms, don't you? I'm not as far in Charms. I think I have the third year curriculum done, but I'm not too far into the fourth year one."

Gabrielle thought for a moment before raising her wand. A second later, a rather beautiful sea shell flew into her outstretched hand. She peered curiously at Harry.

"I know it's the summoning charm," he told her, "I've read about it, but I've never actually tried it." He smirked, as he aimed his wand. "I can do this though." With barely a flick in the direction of the sea shell resting on Gabrielle's palm, he incanted. "Depulso." The sea shell rocketed out of Gabrielle's hand and was sent splashing back into the ocean.

She mock glared at him. "Zat was not very gentlemanly of you." She told him with a pout. "Zat shell was quite pretty, I 'ad been 'oping to keep it." With a devious smirk, Gabrielle flicked her wand and sent a stinging hex towards Harry. Fortunately, she did so rather slowly, making sure to let Harry see exactly what she was doing. Thanks to that telegraph, Harry managed to prepare and, at the last second, he batted the spell back towards a very surprised Gabrielle. She still dodged easily, but she was now giving him a rather appraising look. "Spell deflection, 'arry?" She asked suggestively. "Zat is a rather advanced skill."

"I know," he said, for once allowing a rare bit of pride to show in his voice. "That one took me months to figure out. I still can't deflect some more powerful stuff with it, but it's a start."

"One might think you are trying to become a duelist." Gabrielle said suggestively, slowly firing a jelly legs jinx towards Harry, which he also managed to deflect in her general direction.

"I have my reasons." He told her.

"I am sure you do." She responded. "I wonder if all of ze spells you 'ave practiced more fall into the combat range of spells?" Her lips turned upwards. "The banishing hex is quite the useful spell in a duel, after all."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe," he said with a grin, this whole game of hers was more fun than he would have suspected. He really did love magic!

She smirked arrogantly at him, twirling in an effortless pirouette. "A shame you would never stand a chance against moi until you learn to cast without speaking." Harry was oddly tempted to fire a non verbal banishing hex her way, but he thought that would be very, very overkill.

He raised his wand and concentrated hard, drawing her attention as he did so. A second later, the tip of his wand lit and Gabrielle actually looked surprised for the first time in the conversation.

"Magnifique!" She told him, smiling brightly as she actually clapped her hands several times in congratulations. Harry allowed his light to die out just as Gabrielle gave him a more calculating stare. "You are full of surprises, Monsieur Potter." She smirked as she twirled her wand. "One more round," she said, "no speaking the incantation." She deliberately swished and flicked her wand, levitating a fairly large rock up out of the shallows and floating it a bit out onto the beach before allowing it to hover, looking at him expectantly.

He bit his lip. "I've… never tried anything like the levitation charm non verbally." He admitted. The banishing hex was probably the closest, but he only really needed to maintain concentration for a second or so.

Gabrielle gave him an encouraging smile, stepping up beside him as she peered curiously at the rock, still hovering. "Well," she said with a smile, resting a hand on his shoulder. Again, he found it odd how there was no immediate impulse to pull away. "Zere is no time like ze present to try, non?"

With a sigh, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated before swishing and flicking his wand towards the rock. He exaggerated the movement a bit, but it was intentional. Hopefully, it would help him with this. He figured he could probably do the spell non verbally, but maintaining it would be a problem, especially due to the weight of the rock.

Slowly, he felt control of the rock shift from Gabrielle to him. He was doing it! It had dipped a bit towards the ground, but it was still levitating. Concentrating, Harry tried to float it more towards the two of them. It slowly drifted towards them. Harry was surprised he had managed even that but just as he thought that, it began to tilt to the side and he was sure he was about to lose it. Then, he felt control rested away from him, as Gabrielle floated it back gently into the water, clearly having seen that he was about to lose control.

"C'était incroyable!" Gabrielle said in rapid French, beaming down at Harry as she spoke. Her smile topped any so far, and Harry felt an odd fuzzy feeling cloud his brain for a moment or two before he took back control and smiled sheepishly back at her.

"That was actually kind of fun." He said just as Gabrielle giggled before sliding her arm through his and slowly leading him back up to the estate.

"Of course it was," she told him with a fond smile, "magic is incredible!"

---

December 24th 1992.

The Chamber of Secrets.

11:36 PM.

As the girl's light footsteps echoed loudly in the tunnel leading to the chamber's entrance, Tom Marvolo Riddle reflected on what had so far been a rather successful year.

It had been so easy to get Ginny Weasley to open up to him. Once she had, she had set the inevitable into motion and Tom could feel himself growing stronger and stronger by the day as the girl grew weaker and weaker. That first day in Defense, when Tom had truly rested control away from Ginny for the first time to cast the spell that effortlessly dealt with the pixies, he had all of a sudden felt as if he had needed to sleep for days. As the months passed, however, Tom found it increasingly easy to spoon feed Ginny information and even take over from time to time. After all, he doubted very much that Ginny Weasley could have been so convincing when standing in front of Lockhart. The man admired her, or more realistically, his wand work and knowledge in Defense for certain, and it was blatantly obvious that he was trying to appease who he hoped to be a potential ally in the future, but he doubted Ginny Weasley, a young, foolish Gryffindor would have managed to get that permission slip.

A couple nights ago, Tom had even managed to take Ginny over completely while she was sleeping, a feat he was repeating now. Unfortunately, he had overdone it that night and had been completely out of it until early this morning. During that escapade, he had realized something.

For all of his talents, he could not instantly give Ginny Weasley a drastic boost in magical memory when it came to certain kinds of spells.

So that's what led him here, down to the Chamber in Ginny's body while the girl was fast asleep. It was time to practice.

Reaching into her pocket with her hand, Tom withdrew the pixie he had nudged her into nicking all those months ago as they entered the Chamber proper. It had not been hard. She had thought the creature was adorable but Tom knew it would be useful for things like this. Setting the creature down on the floor, Tom aimed Ginny's wand deliberately and began his practice.

"Cruicio!"

---

Author's Endnote:

I only realized the other day that I hadn't actually posted an overly long chapter yet in year 2. This one certainly qualifies, so I do hope you all enjoyed it.

One thing I do want to address. I'm sure some of you will be disappointed because you expected more Flamel. He will appear more at some point and eventually interact more directly with Harry, but now is not the time. Let's just say that Flamel had more selfish reasons for assigning Gabrielle to shadow Harry and leave it at that for now. If you want a small hint, let's just say he has learned from past mistakes.

On a semi related note, I did not introduce any major international characters outside of the Flamels and the ministers because at this point, they're the only ones I have fleshed out to appear in the future. That may or may not change as the story progresses, we will have to wait and see.

Also, I want to speak a bit about the timeline for this year. Frankly, the pacing of CoS in canon makes no sense. If you look at the HP lexicon, literally nothing happens between January 3rd and the middle of March. Then, pretty much everything happens between April and June. Frankly, I think this is foolish and am changing it. The main canon plot will actually wrap up probably sometime in March in this story, and the last three months will be sped through pretty quickly, but with a different, original plot thrown into the mix that will help setup year 3.

I just wanted to make that clear now so that everyone isn't surprised when the Chamber business is resolved two months early in this story. As you will see next chapter, Riddle is a bit more offensive in this fic. The pieces are falling into place far faster than in canon, which is another reason I have altered the timeline a bit.

Please read and review.

PS: The next chapter will be posted next Sunday, June 7th at approximately 3:00 PM EST.