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.

Acknowledgments: Thank you to my betas Umar, Luq707, Yoshi89 and Fezzik for their work on this story.

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.

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.

Author's Note:

The final scene of this chapter does have some rather mature, rather disturbing implications. It does not go past being implied, and nothing will ever come of it for reasons that will be obvious when you read it. I won't explain what it says about one of the characters, but it is something I've been trying to hint at subtly for a while without being explicit for obvious reasons. If you get it, you get it.

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.

"Speech."

'Internal Dialogue.'

Parseltongue.

Memories/In Story Text.

Harry Potter and The Dark Lord's Equal

By ACI100.

Year 2: The Looming of Shadows.

Chapter 15: Maps and Misdirections.

December 28, 1992.

Longbottom Manor.

8:32 PM.

The word Apauruseya is one that has in many ways been lost to the tides of time. In its simplest form, the word Apauruseya refers to occurrences of the supernatural variety. In this context, it will be discussed in these myths and legends; however, the term means far more.

Long ago, before the likes of Merlin and Morgana, there were beings with the power to bend the very world around them, to make the elements themselves submit to their will. Or at least, that is the case according to the legends of Apauruseya, many of which were founded in the ancient period of the nation now known as India.

In this context, the term refers to people with a supernatural ability that allowed them to do things viewed impossible by any other. To specify further, these people, or deities, depending on the source, had the ability to completely manipulate one of the elements that made up our world. From the first ever Apauruseya according to common myths, Agri Leghaera, who could create a storm of fire so formidable that he crippled armies, to Indra, who's abilities with lightning rivaled even those of Zeus in later Greek mythology, and to Vayu, who could bend the force of air so thoroughly that he could breathe a vacuum powerful enough to engulf and destroy cities.

These are the legends of the elements; those who make present-day sorcery look like children with matchsticks next to an atomic bomb. These are the figures and theories that will be discussed within this book's pages, if you can handle the potential truths of the past.

Harry slowly shook his head, dazed, as he took a break from the copy of The Incredible Apauruseya of Ancient India and Beyond that Parvati had gifted to him over the Christmas Holidays in his first year. He heeded her advice enclosed within her note this year at Christmas and had gone back through his stash of books to find this one. Immediately, the fact that the book seemed to be a catalogue of myths had put him off, but now, he was reluctantly intrigued. Why Parvati wanted him to read about impossible beings who may or may not have even existed, he had no idea, but honestly, the book had captured his attention and if nothing else, Harry thought himself probably one of the most deserving candidates for a bit of rest and relaxation probably anywhere in the world for his age group. Still, he would have to ask Parvati about the book when he returned to Hogwarts. Some people may have looked down on her for her gossiping tendencies and the like, but Harry knew she was more intelligent than she sometimes let on. He knew that sending him such a specific book was not simply a heat of the moment decision, but one wrought with thought of some kind.

Whatever it was, Harry was certainly interested as he continued to read about these legendary figures over the past day or so. Some of their abilities, as mentioned in the book's opening pages, seemed utterly impossible, but some gave Harry pause. Was it possible to create or manipulate lightning on a lesser scale with magic? He knew that the manipulation of fire was at least possible. All of this was something to explore at a later date. Perhaps Parvati would even have some insight into the matter.

December 31, 1992.

Longbottom Manor.

5:43 PM.

Harry slumped into his chair beside Neville and across from Augusta for dinner. He had gone through a rather brutal training session with Moody earlier that day. He had barely stepped out from the shower he took after the session, before a house elf informed him that dinner would be served soon. As a result, it was a rather battered variant of Harry Potter that showed up at the dinner table that night.

When he first sat down, he found himself immediately on guard. Augusta seemed… tense, and Harry was not sure why. He searched his bank of memories for anything that may have caused it, but his internal investigation came up empty. Neville too had evidently noticed, for he was shooting questioning looks in Harry's general direction every time Augusta was not watching. Every time, Harry shrugged, or shook his head, or gave any other subtle sign he could that might indicate that he was as clueless as Neville. In fact, he had hoped that Neville may have been more privy to the rational. Perhaps something had happened while Harry was training with Moody?

Thankfully, he did not have to wait terribly long to find out. This was one thing that Harry loved and admired about Augusta. She did not hide things from them. She did not use the excuse of them being too young to keep important details to herself. As much as Harry was trusting Dumbledore more with each passing day, it was one of the things that he had much, much, preferred about Augusta. As the thought crossed his mind, a memory from the Hospital Wing after his confrontation with Quirrell at the end of his first year swam to the forefront of Harry's mind.

"Down in the chamber, I talked to Voldemort. He-he said my mother need never have died; he said that it was me he was after." He wrung his hands, looking down into his lap as he tried to keep the emotion away from his eyes. "Why? Why would he come after a toddler?"

Dumbledore suddenly looked not just every bit his age, but a fair bit more so as Harry looked up to meet his eyes. "Alas, the first question you ask me, I can not answer, not today, not now. You will know when the time comes, when you are older — I know you hate to hear this — but when you are older, when you are ready, I promise that you will know."

But in this instance, Harry fortunately did not have to wait terribly long for answers. Once the three of them had finished their meal, Augusta set down her knife and fork rather significantly and sighed, making hard eye contact with Harry. "I have news." She told him. Immediately, Harry was even further on guard. Whatever had brought this mood upon her, he had not expected it to be "news". Still, he nodded nonetheless, urging her to continue. "I've made inquiries and reached out about acquiring a copy of Sirius Black's trial records."

All at once, the atmosphere in the room changed. Harry's posture stiffened almost at once and Neville suddenly leaned forward, looking alert. It was a stark contradiction to the yawn he had tried to unsuccessfully hide behind his hand a minute or so earlier. "And?" Harry asked carefully, sensing that whatever Augusta was about to say, he was not going to like.

"Apparently, I stand corrected on something that I told you when you returned to the manor." If not for the rather grave situation at hand, Harry may have grinned. The absolute bitterness in Augusta's voice as she admitted the fact that she had actually been mistaken about something was truly awe inspiring. It was as if the fact had greatly offended her. Then again, it seriously might have; Harry would need to know more in order to be certain.

"What was it that you had wrong?" Harry asked in the same, cautious tone of voice he had adopted a moment earlier.

Augusta again met his eyes before speaking. "If you remember, I told you your first night back at the manor that all trial records were made public." Immediately, Harry's heart sank, but he nodded along anyways. "Well, I was mostly right, but there was an… exception... that I didn't know about. Apparently, there is a little known law that allows the Ministry to classify certain trial scripts and records as Ministry secrets if certain facts the Ministry doesn't deem suitable for the public come to light within the trial. As I'm sure you've figured out, whatever Sirius Black told them in his trial must have been especially dramatic. It was enough to have the transcripts classified under this act."

Harry had prepared himself for the blow ever since Augusta had first referenced Sirius's trial, but it still struck him like an ironclad blow when the fact was revealed to him. "So there's no way of getting the trial record?" He asked for clarification in a detached sort of voice.

Augusta paused. "That's… not entirely true." Harry did not allow his hopes to rise, but he did meet Augusta's gaze with a very slight glint of hope in his emerald eyes. "There is one exception to the law that would allow for the trial records to be made privy to you." Harry waited for Augusta to speak. Whatever the exception was, Harry could tell it was unlikely to occur in their case. Her outward visage was not one steeped with optimism. "If new evidence comes to light that casts the original verdict into doubt, the Ministry is required to release the trial records to all affected parties if said parties apply to receive the information. That would mean immediate family and those with a direct tie to the person who, in this case, was convicted."

"Would me being classified as his godson before he went to prison count as being an affected party?"

"Normally, no, it wouldn't. But in your case, I think it would. Your parents are gone and though Dumbledore is technically your magical guardian, that right would immediately pass onto your godfather if you had one who suddenly returned. If Black's case is somehow cast into doubt, then you could apply for a copy of the records."

Harry frowned. "You don't think that's going to happen though, do you?"

"No," Augusta said bluntly, "I don't. Dozens of people witnessed Black murder Pettigrew and those muggles. It would take something very substantial to force the Ministry's hand in reopening the case of Sirius Black. I suspect that Pettigrew would need to show up alive, by example."

Harry's heart sank once more. He tried not to outwardly show his disappointment, but an internal hope had just been crushed. However unlikely it was that Sirius Black was somehow miraculously innocent, Harry supposed it was a hope he had somehow clenched onto based on his gut feeling on the matter, and even in spite of all of the evidence to the contrary. Still, it was crushing nonetheless. After all, what were the odds of a long deceased man suddenly showing up alive?

January 2, 1993.

Longbottom Manor.

2:43 PM.

By now, it had simply become the norm for Harry's lessons in combat alongside the crazed ex-auror to be held at Longbottom Manor. In his last lesson, Harry had performed rather poorly. He had continued his workout routine, now with the addition of the weighted vest, and he could honestly say that he felt once more like he had been in a wreck after every workout. As a result, he had been rather battered before their last session, which had not boded well for him. Harry did take some consolation in the fact that now, a very annoyed, yet steadfastly determined Neville, was joining him each morning for the workout regiment. At the moment, Neville was struggling greatly. He was not an athletic boy by any stretch of the imagination. There was visible baby fat on much of his body, and his cardio was far from superb. Augusta had been bluntly clinical about the whole situation. Neville's magic had improved greatly over the past year, but if he wanted to reach his desired level of proficiency, his body needed to catch up.

Currently, the only thing on Harry's mind was dodging like a madman as he concluded his session with Moody in typical fashion — a mock duel. As he pulled back, Harry managed to deflect a stunning spell and counter with a nonverbal banishing hex that Moody shielded against. As the auror raised his shield, Harry let loose with a wordless blasting curse that ripped straight through Moody's shield and sent the man tumbling head-over-heels. Just as an ecstatic Harry was about to celebrate his first victory, he felt ropes snake around him and all of a sudden, he was on the floor, staring up at the smirking form of Mad-Eye Moody with wide eyes.

"How… but you were… I blasted you, I saw it!"

"You were seeing the wrong things, Potter." Moody said sternly as he vanished the ropes and allowed Harry to climb to his feet. When I shot the body-bind at you before the stunner, you dove and took your eyes off of me." He shrugged. "It doesn't take long to cast the doppelgänger charm. It's a charm that lets a person create an identical image of themselves that moves and speaks in the same way as the real person." He shrugged once more at Harry's aghast expression. "I disillusioned myself, let you duel the doppelgänger and took advantage of the situation. Always practice CONSTANT VIGILANCE! Never take your eyes off of your opponent and sure as hell don't celebrate too early!" Harry flushed. In hindsight, that at least had been a fairly rudimentary mistake.

"Chin up, Potter." Moody said roughly. "You did well. You're improving at a terrifying rate and I reckon that in a year, you'll beat half the Auror force." Harry smiled weakly at the joke, though he had the odd, ridiculous notion that Moody was actually serious. "You're gonna learn the doppelgänger charm." Moody told him. "You're gonna master it, and then you're gonna do it nonverbally, because if you shout the damn thing, you've kind of defeated the point." Moody paused, peering evaluatively at his sort of apprentice. "I do have a task for you this semester." He told Harry. "One kinda like the last, but a bit more challenging."

Harry set his jaw. "What is it?"

"You're gonna learn the bone-breaker curse." Moody said matter of factly, ignoring the aghast expression on Harry's face once more. "Nonverbally, of course."

"B-but isn't that illegal?" Harry asked, incredulous. "Isn't it dark?"

Moody scowled. "I'm gonna ask you a hard question and you better be ready for it." Harry nodded cautiously. "Would you rather get gutted out on the streets of Knockturn Alley and have everybody cry at your funeral over what a good person you were, or, would you rather the bloke who jumped you in Knockturn Alley get taken care of and you move on with your life, ignoring the few mutters about the questionable magic you used to do it?" Harry hesitated. "ANSWER!"

"The second one." Harry admitted.

"YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT YOU'D TAKE THE SECOND ONE!" Harry actually did jump at this outburst from Moody. "That's what it takes sometimes." Moody said in a softer voice. "It doesn't make you a monster, nor do you have to become one, but sometimes, stunners and disarming charms just aren't enough." Slowly, very slowly, Harry nodded. "So," Moody said, "the bone-breaker nonverbally by the end of the year."

Harry nodded, suddenly resolute as he remembered the ease with which Quirrell had defeated him last year. If he had spells like that in his arsenal, they would not be so easily batted away. "Yes, sir."

That night, at Malfoy Manor...

Lucius,

It was such a pleasure to hear from you! It's been so long! One day, we must grab a drink! I am doing quite well, thank you. I hope you are doing well in return?

Mysteriously, I found those records rather… difficult to obtain, but I have managed it, of course. Enclosed in the package are all educational records from the school year you asked for. I would… appreciate it if this did not leak out, Lucius. They are classified documents after all. I know you will treat them with care, but we wouldn't want these to fall into the wrong hands now, would we?

Thank you for your faith in me in regards to the Ministry. I'm sure we can talk more about that in person.

Pleased to hear from you and I eagerly await your reply.

Yours truly,

Dolores Umbridge

Lucius nodded with satisfaction and opened the package in front of him, sighing at the vast number of unmarked documents that now lay in front of him. It was going to be a very long night.

January 4, 1992.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

8:53 PM.

Harry had been having a rather poor first day back at Hogwarts. A part of him had hoped that the suspicion of the school would fade with the passing of the Christmas Holidays. Unfortunately, that had not been the case. As a matter of fact, the school's certainty had seemed to only solidify with the passing of time. Many of them cited the fact that miraculously, there had been no attacks over the break. The same break in which Harry Potter was absent from the castle. Honestly, the absurdity of the school left Harry reeling sometimes. It was so backwards how at times, how they applied logic to their rationale. But when they did, said logic always seemed to be twisted, warped, and framed to suit the specific desires of the person bringing it forth. Other times, when a metaphorical mountain of logic was staring them in the face, they simply ignored it completely.

Example one, Gilderoy Lockhart.

Honestly, the man's class had been the worst part of Harry's day thus far, and that was including the dozen or so stinging hexes he had taken from behind while roaming the corridors and the numerous instances of being "accidentally" kicked, elbowed, and even punched in the jaw. Frankly, Harry was becoming rather fed up by the point he even got to Lockhart's class. Then, he was asked to come to the front of the class for the thousandth time to help Lockhart act out some scene he apparently wrote about in one of his books, which Harry had still yet to touch. It probably hadn't helped his image when he refused, point blank, and walked out, but by that point, he hadn't cared.

Thankfully, he at least had his session with Flitwick that night to look forward to. As usual, Harry was left bruised and battered, but as typical, he left in high spirits. The man was a brilliant teacher and in every single lesson, Harry felt as if he were making leaps and bounds in terms of his ability.

On this night, however, that would prove to be a double-edged sword.

On one hand, Harry suddenly felt about a hundred pounds lighter and could exalt in a moment of peace and freedom for the first time that day. On the other, that was precisely the wrong moment to partake in that exact activity.

As Harry rounded a corner, four spells shot towards him at once. With no time to draw his wand, Harry simply lunged to the side, dodging the spells by inches as he rolled in the precise way that Flitwick had taught him, getting back up to his feet and summoning his wand from its holster. Unfortunately, he realized that he was about to be on the losing side of this confrontation. There were four Hufflepuffs waiting for him, all of whom were armed and all of whom he believed to be in at least fourth year. Setting his jaw defiantly, Harry sidestepped the first spell and sent a stunner back nonverbally. Luckily for him, the girl who he aimed at fell. She had not expected a second year to cast wordlessly, and had been taken completely off guard by the attack. Unfortunately, he was still outnumbered three to one, and he had now lost any advantage he may have gained from being underestimated.

Harry raised a shield as more spells flew towards him. It absorbed the first volley easily, but began to show signs of falling on the second. There was no way he could dodge and deflect three curses at once. He had to take at least one of them down if he even wanted a chance of managing that for any period of time. That wasn't even talking about him actually winning the confrontation. Just as his shield was about to collapse, Harry gritted his teeth, forcing more magic into the spell and buying himself a second or two more of time, with which he was planning to roll out of the way and hopefully counter with a chain of a disarming spell, full-body-bind and stunner.

Before he could do any of that, something exploded near the feet of the three still standing badgers and suddenly, their side of the corridor was filled with an acrid smelling smoke. Harry privately thanked the instincts drilled into him ruthlessly by Moody. He did not even have to think about it — he opened fire on the cloud of smoke. It didn't matter that he couldn't see them. They were at their weakest and now was his best shot. If he fired enough spells at them, they would eventually fall. This process was expedited a moment later when two other casters joined him, and only when the smoke cleared and all four badgers were laying on the floor, unconscious and sporting the misfortunes of several well placed hexes did Harry notice the other two figures in the corridor.

"Fred? George? What are you two doing here?"

"Noticed you were walking into an ambush." Fred said, as if it was obvious they had known such things.

Harry frowned. "How did you know that I was walking into an ambush?"

"All in good time, Harry." George told him, looking down at what appeared to be a piece of parchment. "If you'll follow us, we'll get you out of here before Filch, who is three corridors away from us, by the way, finds us." Harry didn't question how on earth the Weasley twins knew any of this. He just nodded and followed them out of the corridor, down a secret passageway that Harry hadn't even known existed, out into another corridor, around a corner, and into an abandoned classroom. Only when the twins had both hit the door with a frankly absurd number of locking and privacy spells did they turn to Harry.

"Had a rough day, we heard?"

Harry sighed. "It'll be fine. I just need everybody to grow up and realize that I'm not Voldemort reincarnated." The twins both flinched, but it was a minute reaction.

"Look, mate," Fred started.

"We don't know how to break this to you." George continued.

"But the school probably isn't dropping this anytime soon." They finished together.

Harry sighed. "That bad, huh?"

They nodded. "It'll take something drastic, or for this 'Chamber of Secrets nonsense' to go away for them to realize that they're a bunch of airheads." Fred told him.

Harry sighed. "Wonderful."

"Was that the first time you've been ambushed?" George asked him, sounding concerned.

"Yeah," Harry admitted, "but I did spend the last few days before Christmas… somewhere nobody could find me. Aside from that, I've been hexed in the back a bunch, elbowed and kicked in the hallways, and all the rest. That was the first proper ambush though."

"It probably won't be the last." Fred said bluntly. He exchanged a look with George and the two of them seemed to have a lengthy, detailed, internal conversation before finally, they both focused their attention back on Harry. "Luckily for you," Fred said, "we've got a way to make sure it's the last attempt that's successful!"

Harry blinked. "Um… don't take this the wrong way or anything, but how are two fourth years going to stop the entire school from ganging up on me?"

"Good question, my young friend." George said with a wink, removing the piece of parchment he had looked at on the way here from his robes. "You see," he continued, "the two of us won't be doing anything of the sort."

When Harry looked baffled, Fred finished his twins' thought, even though it did nothing to clear up Harry's confusion.

"Most certainly not. That will be the jobs of Messrs. Wormtail, Moony, Padfoot and Prongs. As much as we'd love to be of assistance, we thought it to be best if we passed you into the hands of those far more qualified."

Harry was only more confused now then when Fred started. "Uh, guys? Who are Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs?"

"You are full of good questions today, Harry!" George said brightly, beckoning for Harry to stand in between he and his twin. Perplexed, Harry did as directed and peered down at the blank piece of parchment in George's hand in pure and utter bemusement.

That was, until the twins both removed their wands once more, tapped the parchment with them in unison, and muttered what Harry would later know as a password.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good!"

Harry gasped as instantly upon the reception of the must-be password. Lines that he began to recognize as ink began to spread outwards across the map like a constantly elongating and ever expanding spider web. Then, the lines began to take very distinct forms, and small, legible names began to appear dotted on the parchment until, at long last, Harry was looking at what was unmistakably a map of Hogwarts.

One that showed each and every one of the castle's inhabitants.

He turned back to the twins, gaping openly at the pair of them. "Where… how…"

"The where is easy." Fred said with a smirk. "We found this little beauty in Filch's office at the very beginning of last year after we got a detention for blowing up a toilet. It was a right pain to figure out the password. The map has a sort of… sentience to it, I guess. We had to convince it to give us the password. It made us play all kinds of pranks to prove our worth, but we got it eventually."

"As for the how," George cut in, shrugging helplessly, "we have no idea. It's some sort of charm that probably uses an absurd amount of Ancient Runes and Arithmetic equations, but that's way above our level, at the moment."

Harry slowly closed his still gaping mouth, shaking his head slowly several times in order to clear it. "And you want to what? Give me this?"

The twins nodded. "We've had our fun." Fred told him. "Gotten everything we could've wanted out of it. Sure, it's dead useful, but you, my friend, could use it way more than we could at the moment."

"Yeah," George added, "if it means our favourite seeker doesn't get mugged, you can have the damn thing."

"You...you're sure you want to give this to me until this is all over?"

The twins shook their heads, but the bit that confused Harry was how they smirked at him while doing so. "Come on, Harrikins," Fred teased, "you're supposed to be clever."

"What-"

"We want to GIVE it to you. We don't want it back."

Harry gaped.

"Well," Fred supplied, "part of us REALLY wants it back, but most of us wants you to keep it. Trouble just seems to follow you around, so if we can help you avoid the lot of it by giving you a piece of parchment…" he let his statement hang, the meaning of it obvious.

Harry looked at the two of them, completely speechless. "I-I don't even know what to say to this?"

"That you'll take good care of it." Fred said.

"And yourself." George added.

"That too," Fred agreed, "and, put it to good use, you know?" He winked. "Don't do anything we wouldn't do."

Harry nodded numbly, taking the map reverently as goosebumps rose on his arms and neck. He couldn't explain it, but something about all of this just seemed… right, like it was always destined to happen.

January 5, 1992.

The Defense Against The Dark Arts Classroom.

2:28 PM.

As all of the students were packing their things away, Gilderoy continued to pretend to mark Ginny Weasley's essay. Truthfully, ninety percent of what was written went way over his head. He knew that he was no genius with a wand, but he wasn't a complete idiot when it came to magical theory. Still, what this eleven-year-old girl had written had positively baffled him. She spoke of concepts that he had never heard before. Not that this was the first time this occurrence had taken place. By now, it was simply his standard procedure to give her a perfect O whenever this happened. It was one of the many reasons he was so certain she would be special in the coming years.

Speaking of Ginny Weasley, she was looking at him when he looked up, and a blush had crept onto her face. Most of the students were exiting as she packed her things into her bag. When he looked up and met her eyes, she looked away at once, the blush growing hot on her face. This was a fairly regular occurrence within his classroom, and he thought that finally, it was time to act on it. After all, nothing else he had done had worked. He had praised her, broken the rules for her, and been as supportive as he could. But still, he did not seem to have garnered the trust he would need. If he wanted to be part of the revolution she would inevitably spark, he would have to gain more trust, more favour with her.

Lockhart stood with all of that in mind, under the pretense of seeing everybody out of the room. As Ginny walked past to leave, Lockhart reached out and placed a hand on her chest to stop her. There was nobody else behind her.

"Oh dear!" He said, withdrawing his hand quickly and patting her shoulder. "My apologies, Miss Weasley. It appears as if you've grown since the year has started, haha!" When the girl only blushed again, Lockhart smiled a winning smile. "Could you please meet me in my office at 9:00 on Friday night, Miss Weasley? It's no trouble, of course. You are as brilliant as ever, I simply wish to discuss your most recent masterpiece of an essay." Ginny nodded shyly, still saying nothing as her eyes cast towards the ground. "Splendid!" Lockhart exclaimed. "Off you go then, off you go!"

Lockhart saw the young girl walk away quickly, her head tilted towards the ground.

What he did not see was the twisted, cruel grin she adorned, nor the sinister glint in her normally warm eyes.

January 6, 1992.

An Abandoned Classroom.

7:00 PM.

It was still odd how Daphne no longer attempted to jump scare Harry near the beginning of each of their meetings. In fact, the habit had been broken immediately upon the fiasco following the Halloween feast, but it was honestly something he was still not entirely accustomed to. He was grateful, of course, but it still felt rather odd. This time, Harry waited with an air of nervousness for Daphne to stroll in through the door. Surely she would not be one of the many who had turned against him for being the supposed Heir of Slytherin? Or worse, what if she believed it, but applauded him for it? He had never exactly asked about her views on blood purity. Mind you, she didn't really seem the type, and he wasn't trying to stereotype all of Slytherin House, but you could just never tell…

"Lost in thought, are we?" Daphne asked, making Harry jump. She had not been invisible. In fact, she had strolled straight through the classroom door, even taking the time to apply the locking and privacy charms she knew of while standing right in front of Harry. He had simply been so lost in thought that he had completely failed to notice her. He supposed he should have been looking at the map, but he had been dealing with other patterns of thought. Plus, he was still so new to the map that using it still wasn't an instinct for him. He had to constantly remind himself that it was an incredible resource at his disposal.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, "you could say that, yeah."

Daphne waved a hand dismissively. "Forget it, it's hardly like it matters." There was a long pause before Daphne sighed. "Is that really what you were thinking about, Harry?"

Harry blinked. "What?"

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Your face might be blank, but you're still an open book. You're worried that I'm going to shun you for being the mysterious 'Heir of Slytherin'?" She drew air quotes around the last three words and Harry actually flinched at them. He was so sick of hearing those words at this point. Daphne rolled her eyes. "If you were anybody else, I'd tell you that you're a massive idiot who needs to get better at reading people." Harry's face twisted into a grimace. "In your case though," she said with a sigh, "I… can kind of understand why you might have trust issues." She moved closer to him and surprised him by resting a hand on his arm. He repressed the urge to pull away, but did tense under her touch for an infinitesimal amount of time before relaxing. "Let's set the record straight, shall we? The idea that you're the Heir of Slytherin is honestly hysterical. I get a laugh anytime anybody mentions the idea."

"W-what?"

"Oh, come on, Harry, you're better than that. If you were the Heir of Slytherin, intent on ridding the school of muggleborns and all the rest, I highly doubt that one of your three best friends would be a muggleborn himself. If you were the Heir of Slytherin through the Potters, I highly doubt that the Potters would have been Gryffindors for the last two and a half centuries. And if you were the Heir of Slytherin, I highly doubt that you would be appearing at social events like the Flamel Gala with Albus Dumbledore."

Harry almost flushed at that last one. How the Daily Prophet had gotten their hands on a photograph when Harry hadn't even thought they were in attendance was a mystery to him. Why they decided that he and Dumbledore attending the Flamel's ball together was front page news was even more baffling. "Whatever anybody thinks of the man," Daphne continued, "I think that he would know if you were the Heir of Slytherin after spending that much time with you."Harry just stared at her, dumbstruck. Daphne rolled her eyes again. "Honestly, what irrelevant detail broke your brain this time?"

"Nothing," Harry said, "it's just… odd, to see somebody raised in the Magical World actually use sound logic, I guess." He winced. "No offense."

Daphne shrugged. "You're not exactly wrong." She admitted. "But for the record, we're not all bigots or fools. Some of us have the morals not to hate somebody for their blood. And some of us have the brains not to approve things like the hiring of that fraud, Lockhart."

Harry actually laughed. "That's literally the example I've been using in my head since the Duelling Club disaster when I try to think of something illogical that wizards have done!""

Daphne sniffed. "Well, it's a pretty good example. The man is completely useless!"

"He is." Harry agreed before pausing and taking a deep breath. When Daphne realized he was still hung up on something, she sighed exasperatedly, crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at him, raising one, perfect brow in challenge. "Did me being a Parselmouth change anything?" He asked her. "Like… do you think of me differently?"

"And that," she said, "is another example of wizards doing something idiotic and illogical." When Harry looked confused, she elaborated. "Harry, I'm not going to think you're the next coming of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named just because you can speak to snakes. I happen to think it's a rather neat ability and kind of wish I could do it. It would be interesting to see if you could interact with the paintings and such in our common room."

"We could always try?" Harry said with a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he realized that his little feat had changed nothing in his relationship with Daphne.

Daphne frowned. "I'm not sure how to take the fact that you actually want me to sneak you, a Gryffindor — THE Gryffindor, into the Slytherin common room."

Harry shrugged. "I could sneak in myself. I just need the password."

Daphne quirked a brow. "Oh, could you now? Where's the common room then, Harry?"

Harry smirked. It may not have been second nature to pull out the Marauder's Map every chance he got yet, but he had studied it rather intently after first receiving it. "Go two corridors past the one with all the snake decorations in the dungeons, hang a right, take the second left that leads out into a stupidly long corridor and it's on the right hand side of the hallway." Daphne's composure actually cracked, and her sapphire eyes widened in shock. "How'd I do?" Harry asked rhetorically.

Daphne just sighed. "I don't even want to know how you found that out." She said exasperatedly. "Anyway, back on task. It's stupid that people look down on somebody because they have a gift they'll never have. It's just jealousy, envy. That's personally how I think the whole bias against Parseltongue and Parselmouths started centuries ago." She looked a bit sheepish. "Obviously, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named made it much worse by giving everybody a reason to hate Parselmouths."

Harry nodded. Normally, he may have look grim after the mention of Voldemort. Tonight though, he was so relieved to still be on the same grounds with Daphne that he couldn't help but smile.

She frowned. "What are you grinning at?"

"Nothing," he answered dismissively, "just promise me something, will you?"

Daphne suddenly looked on guard. "That depends on what it is, I suppose."

"Never change."

Daphne looked a bit taken aback, but she rolled with it quickly enough, smirking back at him. "Only if you'll promise me something in return."

"Name it."

"Please, do us both a favour and stop doubting me."

Harry couldn't help it. He erupted into peels of laughter that would not cease for minutes on end. It was perhaps the most "Daphne thing" that Daphne had ever said.

January 8, 1992.

Gilderoy Lochart's Office.

9:00 PM.

"Ah, Miss Weasley. If you wouldn't mind closing the door behind you, that would be lovely." With a shy nod, Ginny complied, and Lockhart stood from behind his desk, strolling forward and meeting her in the center of the room. "I am going to be bluntly honest with you, Miss Weasley. I have seen the way you have looked at me the entirety of this school year. I have seen the way that you blush every time I look in your direction." Ginny was looking at the ground again and Lockhart couldn't help but smile. "What? Did you think I didn't notice the way you never meet my eyes, not even now?" Then, Lockhart made Ginny jump when he reached out and placed a hand on her chest once more.

"You are a brilliant mind, Ginny Weasley. Perhaps the most brilliant student to ever pass through Hogwarts, even. It is not a matter of if you will change the world. The question is, when will you begin changing the world. I have known this from the very first day this year, and I have tried, and tried, and tried to ingratiate myself to you." He smiled again, self-confidence practically radiating off of him. "What I failed to realize is that you are an eleven-year-old girl with an infatuation towards me. It was pretty obvious that you were not going to see the signs. So, I will lay it out to you here and now.

"I can help you, Ginny. With my platform, I can get you started. I can give your ideas a little boost, a nudge in the right direction and before you know it, you'll be in the talks with Albus and all the other greats. But I want to be a part of that. I… I'm not the greatest wizard, you see. I… can only keep my current career going for so long. All I ask in return for helping you along the way is that you… support me. I'll… help you get to where you need to go and with… whatever else you'd like, in the meantime." As casually as he could manage, his hand drifted to his shirt collar. "I do have… much to offer, I might add." Ginny's eyes were closed now, as if she couldn't believe what was going on. "I can… show you, if you'd like?"

Slowly, ever so slowly, Ginny nodded.

Then, as Lockhart reached to pull his shirt over his head, Ginny made one, brief gesture with her hand, much like the motion one would make if swatting a particularly bothersome fly.

And Gilderoy Lockhart soared across the room, slamming hard into the opposite wall.

Dazed and confused, Lockhart hardly noticed as his wand flew from his hand and a seemingly invisible force pressed him into a kneeling position, forcing him to meet her eyes. What he saw in front of him was no shy, eleven-year-old girl.

What he saw in front of him was a face twisted with a terrifying mixture of fury and amusement. And above all else, he saw those warm, brown eyes suddenly tinged with an unnatural red tint.

"You are as foolish as you are fake, Lockhart." Ginny said in an amused version of her voice, though it sounded far more confident than Lockhart had ever heard it before. "Missed the signs, have I? Oh no, I assure you, Professor, that I have understood your plan since the very first day. You saw me as potential. You see me as the next great sorcerer in Magical Britain. So, you sought to use me. To call me your protege and watch me rise to the top." She sneered, clearly disgusted. "To one day… infatuate yourself to me in order to gain favour." When Lockhart began to splutter, she silenced him with a wave of her hand. "No interrupting. Now, as I was saying, I knew exactly what you were doing from the beginning. Which is exactly why I played the part of poor, shy Ginny Weasley, for I knew this day would come." She smiled. "And now that it has, Professor, it's time for MY plan to unfold."

And then, Tom Riddle raised Ginny's wand, his signature, malicious smirk plastered on her young, innocent visage.

Author's Endnote:

Well, this one was eventful.

The scene with the map in particular, I have had planned for a long time. I have actually had that scene written for months, I just made some mild tweaks to assure it fit the current context.

Mild spoilers, things are about to go from zero to one hundred starting with the end of next chapter, so I hope you're all ready for that. I estimate two to three more chapters before the inevitable confrontation in the Chamber, and then another three or four chapters until the end of year 2.

I will warn you all now that I will likely take a break of several months from posting this story after year 2 is all posted. I usually try to stay at least 5 chapters ahead of what I am posting, and I am barely on time right now. It is a mistake I am unwilling to let happen in year 3 due to its complexity, plus I need to work on another fic that I have not had time to upload, so I will warn you all of that now.

It will not be months on end, but likely 2-3 months where I periodically write, but do not post this story.

Until then, I hope you all continue to enjoy the storm that is year 2 as it begins to near its peak.

Please read and review.

PS: The next chapter will be posted next Sunday, June 28th, 2020 at approximately 3:00 PM EST.