Three weeks later, the school was still talking about the Headmaster's failed Valentine's surprise. Now that the Muggle-raised students had filled in the Purebloods on the meaning behind most songs and educated them about Muggle music in general, it seemed like the whole student body had taken to repeating the dwarves' Valentine's songs, especially whenever the Headmaster was around.

Dumbledore's reaction towards the explicit lyrics was most surprising. While the rest of the staff would simply take points away whenever they caught a student repeating those raunchy lines, although Severus would often turn a blind eye on his snakes whenever one of them was reciting some of the dwarves' messages of love, the Headmaster would blush instead and excuse himself. 'The reaction was odd indeed,' Tom remarked to himself, 'and most curious.' As far as Tom could remember, the old goat had never been on the prude side and had never shied away from promoting his determination about the 'power of love'. Therefore, his reaction must have been caused by something personal. Either it had been triggered by something in the lyrics or a personal experience.

"Or both," Harry remarked, "maybe he had a secret lover and does not want to be reminded of his past? Or he is afraid of… you know… men ? Or women for that matter? Or he had a bad experience in the past? Who knows…? It's a shame that we did not manage to dig anything up on his past."

'That is true,' Tom had to concede as he thought back on the weeks following Valentine's Day. Tom and Harry had spent quite a few nights searching the vast school library for any information regarding Dumbledore prior to the man accepting the Transfiguration teaching position. While they had found some newspaper articles about Dumbledore's time at Hogwarts and entries in magical research journals about his academic achievements, the information about his private life had been sparse to say the least. Tom had already been aware of the wizard's age, place of birth, blood status and the Dumbledore family in general. Therefore, any information in that regard had not been anything new. Unlike most, Tom only knew too well that the owner and barman of the shady and shabby Hog's Head was in fact the Headmaster's younger brother, Aberforth, and that the two of them had not been on speaking terms for a very long time. Apart from some basic information about his past, the only juicy piece of information the two of them had discovered was a small newspaper clipping hidden underneath a large stack of books in an off-limits storage room hidden behind a large landscape painting deep within the Restricted Section.

Although the article was barely two paragraphs long, there was enough in there to pique Tom's curiosity, especially since it seemed like somebody had tried to hide this very article and possibly a lot of information concerning the Headmaster's past. According to the article, one Percival Dumbledore had been arrested in his home in Mould-on-the-Wold by a squadron of Aurors after attacking three young male Muggles. It was then shortly speculated about the possible punishment for the crime, which would most likely consist of a long stay at Azkaban.

Overall, there was something off about the article. Or maybe about Dumbledore himself. If Tom could believe the article, the father of the most eminent supporter of pro-Muggle relations had attacked three defenceless Muggle children. Tom had the feeling that there was more to the story but sadly, the library was void of any information. It certainly made sense that somebody, most likely Dumbledore himself had tried to hide those juicy parts about his past - Tom had done the same – but he could not help but wonder what else the Headmaster had hidden, especially in combination with the old coot's reaction to those raunchy songs. Because of the limited amount of information available at Hogwarts, Tom and Harry had sent an inquiry to Ragnok a week ago, but so far even the Goblin had not managed to dig up any information. Once the school year was over and he had his body back, Tom would start to dig himself. Harry had sworn to help too.

For now, the two had other things on their mind. It was Thursday night well past curfew. Tom and Harry were on their way up to the fourth floor to meet up with their new 'business partners'. When Harry opened the door of the abandoned classroom they had decided to meet at, neither Tom nor Harry were surprised that the Weasley twins were welcoming them with the familiar tunes of Queen,

"I want to break free

I want to break free

I want to break free from your lies

You're so self satisfied I don't need you

I've got to break free

God knows, God knows I want to break free."

A smile graced Harry's face. Ever since the departure of the dwarves, Gred and Forge had taken it upon themselves to further spread Cupid's messages of love. Whenever Harry saw them out of class, the twins were loudly singing and reciting rather slippery Muggle songs. Because of their antics, teachers were constantly dodging points and assigning detentions, not that the twins seemed to care, even though the Gryffindor hourglass was almost void of any sparkling rubies. To no one's surprise, they had been escorted out of the Great Hall during dinner a few days after the Valentine's debacle by Professor McGonagall to question them about their involvement in the prank. Of course, the interrogation and the Prior Incantato Charm that had been cast on the twins' wands had turned out negative. Therefore, Professor McGonagall had been forced to let them go.

"I've fallen in love

I've fallen in love for the first time

And this time I know it's for real

I've fallen in love, yeah

God knows, God knows I've fallen in love."

Harry snorted as the twins continued to sing and internally, Tom followed suit, wondering why he had not thought about that particular Queen song before. It would have been perfect for the Great Hall. Then again, how did those two Purebloods even know of 'I Want To Break Free'?

"Gentlemen, what a great song," Harry said with a big grin on his face once the door had magically shut behind him and the Privacy Wards had wandlessly flared to life. The twins in turn did not even lift an eyebrow at the display of wandless magic. Instead, two wide and identical grins appeared on their freckled faces as they spoke, "Of course it is…"

"…Freddie Mercury was a musical genius, "Gred continued, "the best there is…"

"…was," Forge proceeded smoothly, "and ever will be…"

"…even the Headmaster seemed to have taken a particular liking to that song, "Gred said, his face a mask of innocence as he turned to his brother, whose facial expression meticulously mirrored that of his brother. The two of them snickered in unison, "We think we have never seen somebody run that fast when we started singing that tune to him when he was on his way to his office earlier today. He didn't even mind the glitter."

Harry snorted. After Valentine's Day, the pink glitter that had been raining off the enchanted roof of the Great Hall had mysteriously migrated to the seventh-floor corridor on which the entrance to the Headmaster's Office was located. But unlike within the Great Hall, the glitter would stick to whoever dared to cross the corridor for days. Ever since Valentine's Day, the swamp or the pink glitter would appear in turn at random intervals. Also, Dumbledore's reaction to 'I Want To Break Free' was just too good to be true. Maybe the old coot really had had a bad lover he wanted to forget.

"Gentlemen, I can't congratulate you enough for your splendid performance," Harry smiled, before tilting his head slightly to the side, "but I can't help but wonder how such talented Purebloods as you have become aware of a Muggle musical act, even if they are as grand as Queen?"

"Oh, Harrykins," Forge sighed while putting his hand on his chest, "Gred and I had the…"

"…displeasure of growing up," Gred continued, his hand equally on his chest, "with the most avid, obsessed might be the better word, fan of Celestina Warbeck…"

"…our mother," both exclaimed in such a desperate way, as if a meteorite had just annihilated the entire population, "you can't imagine the severity of constantly being tortured by that wailing banshee, especially if our mother would join her so that the entire house was shaking due to her screeching."

By the end of their speech, the faces of the twins were filled with nothing but disgust. Tom had a strong feeling that this particular display of emotion was not feigned but rather real. Tom himself had never liked Celestina Warbeck much and thought that the twins' assessment was rather accurate. He had always dreaded the Slug Club meetings whenever the singer had been present, showing off her 'talent'. While Tom could understand why people liked Celestina Warbeck, he just did not. Therefore, he could clearly sympathise with the twins.

"And what did you do," Harry asked, not attempting to hide his curiosity, "stuff your ears?"

"Of course not," both twins replied, shaking their heads, "one day…"

"…when our mother was outside tending to the garden," Forge continued with a grin, "we snuck into our brother Charlie's room, stole his wand, went downstairs…"

"…charmed a passable copy of the radio, and stole the real one," Gred proceeded, a glorious smile plastered on his face before shrugging his shoulders, "we hid it in our room and when our mother tried to turn the charmed copy on and it didn't work, she just assumed that it had broken…"

"…afterwards, we experimented with the real radio," both twins chuckled, "until we managed to get in a decent Muggle station…"

"Life became so much brighter," Forge laughed, while Gred cackled, "and a lot more interesting. You can't imagine how many proper tunes we've discovered…"

"…it's just a shame that it doesn't work at Hogwarts," both twins sighed, "the wards simply are too strong for any Muggle signal to pass…"

After the secret of the origin of knowledge of Muggle songs had been lifted, the focus of all parties' present shifted back to the latest inventions of the twins. They were currently struggling with a rather delicate Rune sequence on one of their Trick Wands. An hour later, everything had been sorted out and Harry was about to call it quits when the usually playful expression on the twins' faces turned serious, "Before you go, we have one question for you, Harrykins."

Raising an eyebrow, Harry simply shrugged his shoulders, "Well, ask."

"You mentioned before that you possess a map similar to ours," Gred asked, "a map that shows you all residents of the castle, ghosts included. Is that correct."

Curious about where this was going, Harry simply answered, "Yes."

"Lately, we have been under the impression that ours is not working correctly," Forge explained, "maybe ours is getting old. Who knows? That's why we wanted to ask you, if it would be possible to compare our maps?"

Under normal circumstances, this would be a reasonable request. Sadly, Harry was still magically tracking Dumbledore's and Quirrell's movements. As of now, Harry was not willing to give away that particular feature of his map. Maybe, there was another way.

"Gentleman," Harry said, his voice velvety smooth, "would you mind showing me the malfunction first?"

Both Weasleys looked at each other, obviously conversing in silence. Then, one twin, Fred, pulled a seemingly blank parchment out of his pocket. Harry could sense the magical signature of the map, the twins had stolen out of Filch's office, and tendrils that linked it to Hogwarts. Before he could explore the signature more, Fred whispered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Fractions of a seconds later, lines began to appear and before long, Tom and Harry stared at the bold letters that read:

"Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs

Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers

are proud to present

THE MARAUDER'S MAP"

While Harry stared at the three out of the four names blankly, Tom's mind was racing, springing back to a meeting that had occurred roughly a year before he had attacked the Potters – the day that Wormtail had decided to defect and join the Death Eaters. Of course, Tom had not been naïve enough to accept the small, rat-like man without proof of his loyalty. Therefore, Wormtail's mind had been thoroughly searched for any underlying attempt of deception and treachery. Without any Occlumency shields, it had been fairly easy for the Dark Lord to enter the mind of the weak, far below average Wizard. But while Wormtail himself had been nothing but a waste of space and the only remarkable thing he had ever achieved was the Animagus Transfiguration, he had somehow managed to become friends with a surprising array of interesting figures: Remus Lupin, a known Werewolf, Sirius Black, the rebelling spawn of Orion and Walburga Black and heir to the legendary Black fortune, and James Potter, the father of his prophesized arch-nemesis.

While Tom had always respected the eccentric collective that called themselves 'The Marauders', not that he would ever openly admit to that, the artefact in front of him renewed and strengthened the respect he had always held for the group of stubborn Light Wizards, especially since they had created the map while still being at school. Although he doubted that Wormtail had anything to do with the crafting of the magical object.

While Harry was still staring at the names in front of him, especially his father's pseudonym, the twins went on to unfold the map, not paying him any attention. Once Harry had managed to tear his eyes off the spot his father's name had been, his gaze sharpened and focussed on the twins who were busy scanning the map.

"There!" both twins yelled before pointing at a specific spot on the map. Stepping closer, Harry realized that the twins had been looking at one of the towers, Gryffindor Tower to be precise.

"This can't be right!" Gred exclaimed, a frustrated frown appearing on his face, while his brother simultaneously screamed, "It's impossible!"

There, just above the tip of George's forefinger, were two names: Ronald Weasley and Peter Pettigrew. The twins had finally discovered it. But before Harry could say anything, the twins had already begun to speak, both surrounded by an aura of distress and disbelief, "The map must be defective…"

"…it just has to be," Gred continued, "everyone knows…"

"…that Peter Pettigrew is dead," Forge proceeded smoothly, throwing his hands in the air, "killed by none other than Sirius Black, the one who betrayed your family's whereabouts to You-Know-Who…"

"…Pettigrew was killed in a blast," Gred picked up from his brother, a look of horror in his face, "with nothing left but a finger…"

"…this truly cannot be possible!" both twins concluded, while staring at Harry, "the map must be defective. Must have been for quite a while now."

Harry's face remained blank while he spoke, "Did you search the common room and the first-year dormitories if they were truly empty except for your brother when Pettigrew's name showed up?"

"Of course!" both twins exclaimed, "there was no one there!"

"Really?" Harry asked, crooking an eyebrow, "was dear Ronald truly alone? Not a creature in sight? No one sharing his bed?"

"Yes, there was no one…" Fred began, before a hand suddenly clasped his mouth shut. Meanwhile, George's eyes were open wide in dawning realisation as he whispered, "Scabbers… But that would mean…"

"Gentlemen, congratulations," a Cheshire grin appeared on Harry's face as he stared at the twins, who for once seemed to have lost their ever-present comedic retorts, "you have just solved the mystery."

Two jaws dropped. After a minute of silence, George finally seemed to recover his ability of speech, "Pettigrew is an Animagus?"

Harry only nodded his head, the smile on his face still present.

"You knew?" Fred ten asked.

"Yes," Harry answered curtly.

"But how?" both twins exclaimed in unison.

The smile on his face morphed into a mask of seriousness, "Gentlemen, before I tell you, I have a question for you: when exactly did dear sweet Scabbers become a part of your lovely family?"

While Tom and Harry had frequently overheard Weasley complaining to his goons about his useless rat, he had never revealed the circumstances in which his pet had ended up in his family, only that it had once belonged to his elder brother Percy. Therefore, both were curious what the twins had to say.

"He has been in our family so long," Forge said, scratching his head, "like forever."

"Too long for a normal rat?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Now that you say it, yes," Gred said, "didn't Percy find him one Christmas night, Forge?"

Forge's head tilted to the side, deep in thoughts, "Must have been 1981… Remember when Mom for once did not mix up our Christmas sweaters and we got that joke box from Zonko's with those disappointing Fake Wands."

"Yes," Gred suddenly spat out in realisation, "didn't Dad remark on how sickly the rat looked, and Percy had to nurse him back to health?"

"Ten years is quite a long life for a rat," Harry remarked, a hint of sarcasm underlining his words.

"We always thought he was magical," the twins spoke in their defence, "and he is now that we know it is an Animagus. But how did you know? You didn't seem surprised."

Harry chuckled, "Actually, I was aware that Pettigrew might be alive before I started at Hogwarts…"

"How?" the twins interrupted his explanation with their question.

"A document within the Potter vault hinted at it," Harry answered vaguely, not wanting to directly reveal that he had opened his parents' wills, "it stated that the Marauders had secretly become Animagi and that my parents had switched Secret Keepers. Hence why I knew that Sirius Black, who I also discovered is my godfather, did not betray them, and Pettigrew might have faked his death, especially since there was hardly any evidence left of his body and he could assume that unsuspicious form of his. Still, I was quite surprised when his name popped up on my map. One day, your brother took his 'pet' to class. From there on, it was quite easy to figure out that Pettigrew was hiding as a rat."

The twins stared at him for a long moment as his words were setting in, "But why…"

"Why did I not catch the rat, hand Pettigrew over to the Ministry, and clear Black?" Harry interrupted their inevitable question, one eyebrow crooked, "because I want to be present during his trial and I can't while school is still going on since legally, I'm not allowed to leave the school grounds without being accompanied by my magical guardian…"

"Harrykins, stop lying" the twins suddenly said, a playful chuckle underlining their words, "we all know that you would have acted out much sooner, caught him yourself and kept him somewhere locked away if you truly wanted to wait with the trial until the school year is over. You would not have allowed the rat to roam free. You're scheming, aren't you?"

Harry's eyes lingered on the 'innocent' faces of the twins for a long moment. Without getting red, Harry shrugged his shoulders, "I might be."

"What can we do to assist you, oh great puppet master?" the twins laughed, although their eyes had turned sharp.

In retrospect, the sharp perception of the twins proved to be a blessing. They would have played an integral part of the original plan anyway. Now that they were in the known, things progressed smoothly, and he had two additional pairs of eyes keeping track of ' Scabbers ' whereabouts.

As they were walking down to Friday's double Potions class, the only thing Tom and Harry were still worrying about was Severus' decision regarding his involvement in the resurrection ritual. The Easter holidays and consequently the start of the first brewing cycle was only one week away. So far, the Potions Master still had not revealed his decision. Tom was slowly starting to feel restless in anticipation since everything depended on said decision.

Tom was brought out of his thoughts as Harry's eyes fell on Hermione who stood alone outside of the Potions lab. She was fiddling with the hem of her robes. The face behind her wild mane of curly locks looked like she had cried recently, which she had not done in weeks.

"Hermione, is everything alright?" Harry asked quietly as he stepped closer.

"Yes…" she began, trying to suppress the sobs escaping her mouth, "well… no… I…"

But before she could answer, they heard footsteps approaching and Hermione's jaw snapped closed. Throughout Potions, Harry tried to determine the cause of Hermione's breakdown, but with the number of ears around them and the rather delicate Potion to brew, Hermione kept her face down and ignored him.

After Potions, Hermione tried to escape. While Harry was busy labelling his brewed Anti-Nausea Potion, Hermione snuck out of the classroom. But thanks to his map, Harry caught up on her on the second floor.

"Hermione, wait," Harry called, sprinting towards her. She tried to flee, but Harry was faster and grabbed her arm to stop her, making the Gryffindor spin on her heels, "Hermione, talk to me! Running from whatever has upset you will not make it any better. Please, I'm here for you."

Hermione's red eyes rested on him for a long time, until a long sigh escaped her mouth, "Fine, but in private."

A wave of relief washed over Harry, since it seemed like Hermione felt at least comfortable enough to share the reason for whatever had upset her with him. But before Harry could say or move, Hermione again spun on her heels and stormed off to the next door and tried to open it, yet it remained closed. Hermione on the other hand did not seem to accept this and started to tear at the door, seemingly having forgotten all about her magic. Shaking his head, the door unlocked with a wave of Harry's hand. Not having realized this, Hermione rushed into one of Filch's many storage rooms, not trying the least to rein in her emotion and sizzling magic, that was aggressively swirling around her.

Turning his attention away from the angry Witch for a moment, Harry quickly warded the storage room against any possible intruders. Just as he had been about to place the last Charm, Hermione exploded, "I just don't understand it… It's so unfair! So unfair! Why for once can't something good happen to me? Why? WHY?"

Even before turning away from the door, Harry could feel how angry she was. Her magic was an angry torrent surrounding and protecting her, ready to leash out at any opportunity given. For her young age, it was a surprising amount of raw energy with a surprising, yet delicious Dark undertone.

Deciding that it was best not to upset her any further, Harry slowly turned around, his hands raised in a peace offering. His magic was carefully tucked in to not provoke Hermione, since he doubted that the angry Witch was no longer in control of herself least of all her magic. The angry look on her face, her dangerously glinting black orbits that her eyes had transformed into and her wild curls that appeared to be electrified certainly underlined the picture. Harry eyed her for a long moment, before he calmly spoke, "What is unfair?"

"EVERYTHING!" Hermione yelled, "simply everything!"

Harry shot her a look, one eyebrow crooked, "Define everything, please."

Hermione threw her arms in the air. Harry was not sure if it was more out of anger or frustration. Maybe both. After letting out a heavy huff, Hermione closed her eyes and tried to rein in her anger. Slowly, her anger seemed to fade into desperation as her shoulder slouched, "I… I… I just don't know what to do… Why is it always me…? First, I grow up with parents who despise me, resent me, hate me because of my magic… Then I come here, where everybody thinks I'm inferior because of my assumed lesser heritage and upbringing… And then… Then I discover… Then I discover that…"

Her voice broke after that, tears starting to form in her eyes. No longer being able to stand the sight in front of him, Harry stepped forward and wrapped his arms around the shaken Witch. After minutes of silent comfort, Hermione had calmed considerably. Sighing almost inaudibly, Harry slowly let go of the Witch and met her eyes, "I suppose you finally took the Inheritance Potion?"

Hermione stared at him for a long moment, her eyes open wide, "How did you know…"

"Was your discovery really that bad?" Harry asked, his head slightly tilted to the side, "what family are you related to?"

Slowly, very slowly, almost like in slow motion, Hermione reached for her discarded bag, while the magic around her restarted to sizzle once more, before the words erupted from her mouth, increasingly louder in volume, "Of course it had to be a family of madmen and murderers! Of course, it had to be since it's me! Ever since I drank the Potion, I can't look people in the eyes… But here, see for yourself!"

With that, she slammed the parchment she had produced out of her bag on a nearby table. The parchment immediately rolled up. While Hermione started to pace, tearing at her curls and magic swirling wildly around her, Harry magically unrolled and straightened the parchment with a wave of his hand.

While the parchment was mostly covered in the generic black lines caused by the Potion, Hermione had heavily added information on a few selected branches of the family tree. While the side of her mother was mostly bare from her input, her father's side was heavily supplemented with lines and lines of Hermione's neat handwriting. One name immediately caught Tom's eyes:

Corvus Lestrange.

The Corvus Lestrange.

The respected Lord of the Lestrange family, proud Pureblood, one of his oldest, most trusted and most capable members of the Inner Circle, and outspoken advocate of the total separation of the Magical and Muggle world.

Tom stared at the name of one of his longest friends for a long moment, wondering how this could have happened. As he started to read Hermione's notes, the mystery slowly started to unravel. William Granger had never been Hermione's grandfather. Although he and Elisabeth Ashcroft, Hermione's grandmother, had married six months prior to their son's birth, William Granger had only passed down his name but never his genes. Somehow, Corvus Lestrange had met Elisabeth Ashcroft three months prior to her wedding and somehow, William Granger Jr. had been conceived, who oddly enough did not show any sign of magic. He should have been magical, but then again, the ability did not always manifest. Magic could be strange at times.

Then, Tom's eyes fell on the year and the stretch of time during which Corvus must have met the Muggle woman. Tom almost laughed as he suddenly understood the reasoning behind Corvus' actions. The meeting with Hermione's grandmother must have taken place only days before Corvus' own wedding, a day Tom remembered like it was yesterday. It had been a nice day. The leaves of the trees at Lestrange Manor had been waving in the pleasant breeze. Corvus had been beaming with happiness and pride as he and his wife Celestine Yaxley had sworn to be eternally bound by magic. Much like most Purebloods at that time, Corvus and Celestine had committed to remain chaste before their bond had been sealed. As he stared at the family tree, it appeared like Corvus had not been so chaste after all. Tom chuckled internally at the thought of the usually so calm and collected Corvus Lestrange getting cold feet at the prospect of his own wedding night and seeking out a Muggle woman to practise. This was too good!

Not just to tease and blackmail Corvus. The significance of the discovery of Corvus Lestrange's granddaughter went much deeper than that. But just as Tom was recollecting the many times Corvus had told him about the strict rules of the ever so paranoid Lestrange family, Hermione's hand slammed on the table, "Do you have it now? Do you get why I couldn't look Neville in the eyes ever since I took the potion? MURDERERS! OF COURSE, THE HAVE TO BE DERANGED, CRAZY, PSYCHOTIC MURDERERS AND TORTURERS! Everything just keeps getting worse… First, my parents… Then all this prejudice against Muggleborns and now this… I should have never touched that Potion…"

The last part had been added quietly. Some time during her rant, she had stopped in front of the table. Her eyes were still lingering on her family tree, a painful expression in her eyes.

"Hermione," Harry said carefully, stepping closer, "please, think about your assessment for a second…"

Hermione looked at him for a second like he had lost his mind, before angrily pointing at a cluster of names on the family tree, "BUT THEY TORTURED FRANK AND ALICE LONGBOTTOM! Do you even know the extent of what they did? The crimes they've committed under the order of You-Know-Who ? How can you tell me to rethink my assessment of my lovely relatives?"

The last words were spat out like they were venom. Sighing, Harry looked at the boiling Witch for a long moment, "I know perfectly well what Rodolphus, Rabastan and Bellatrix did to the Longbottoms. What they did was nothing but the worst torture. I will certainly not defend the three of them, but I am here to remind you that those three do not make up the entire Lestrange family. While I am sure that you came across plenty of information about the younger generation, did you actually look up your grandfather, or the generations before him?"

The silence and the dumbstruck expression on her face told Harry all he needed to know. Of course, Hermione had stopped her investigation upon coming across the crimes of her uncles and Bellatrix. Harry could not condemn her for that. Most people would stop at that point, assuming that the Lestrange family consisted of nothing but insane, cruel murderers. In reality, the Lestrange family was much more than that and Harry would make sure to educate Hermione about her ancestors, "Did you know that Corvus Lestrange is one of the most respected members of the Wizengamot? Even despite the actions of his own sons?"

Hermione's jaw dropped, "You cannot be serious?"

Suppressing the urge to use his favourite joke, Harry shook his head, "I am. As far as I know, Corvus Lestrange took over the lordship from his father directly after he graduated from Hogwarts. Unlike most changes in lordship, this one did not occur because Corvus' father Cyrille had died. Cyrille knew that his son was far better suited to manage the family estate and navigate the Wizengamot. Therefore, he gladly passed the lordship over to his eldest and only son. Corvus joined the Wizengamot shortly before his eighteenth birthday and has remained a member ever since. As a member of the Dark faction, most of his beliefs are mostly rooted deep within the ancient Pureblood traditions. By now, you should know that a lot of what is commonly assumed about these traditions is biased, contorted and oftentimes far from the truth. Here are a few of the bills Corvus Lestrange has tried to put through the Wizengamot. Firstly, Corvus Lestrange is one of the most outspoken advocates of an earlier identification of Muggleborns. He has suggested, if I remember correctly as far as 1951, to identify magical children as soon as possible and to establish a system, that will regularly check upon young magic wielders."

Hermione stared at him, clearly dumbstruck.

"Didn't expect that, did you?" Harry chuckled before continuing, "he also suggested to create a magical foster system and even went as far as to set up an official fund but got denied the permission to put his idea into practise. He is also a supporter for the establishment of Wizarding Tradition classes at Hogwarts alongside Muggle Studies. The initial idea was to educate magical children on the Muggle world and vice versa. While the Light faction voted in clear favour of the Muggle Studies class, the Wizarding Traditions class was dismissed. Simultaneously, a great number of Wizarding traditions were banned, like the celebration of the Pagan Holidays, Blood Magic, and adoption rituals, only to name a few. These bills Corvus has pushed forth are only the tip of the iceberg. Just go to the library and check the transcripts of any Wizengamot session since 1951. I think you will be surprised. After all, Corvus managed to contain the damage to the family done by his sons. He is clever. I doubt that many would have managed to keep the family name as clear as Corvus did when faced with such a massive backlash. Despite the actions of his sons, Corvus still is one of the most respected members of the Wizengamot and the Lestrange estate is one of the richest after the Blacks, Potters and Malfoys. Currently, he is one of the most avid supporters of the educational reforms. That should tell you enough. Does that sound like he is evil?"

"No," Hermione said slowly, "still, his sons were known Death Eaters…"

"That they were," Harry interrupted her, "but Corvus himself was never found guilty of being a Death Eater."

Hermione stared at him incredulously, "How do you even know this?"

"I looked it up in the library," Harry lied easily, shrugging his shoulders, "as the Heir to the Potter estate, I will one day inherit a seat in the Wizengamot. I think it is important to know about all the different factions, its members and their political goals and standing. That's how I came across Corvus. Honestly, I was surprised how the man kept his standing despite his sons' actions. It speaks of his integrity."

"I might look him up," Hermione finally managed to get out after a long moment of silence, "but what do you want me to do if I…"

"I do not want you to do anything," Harry quickly interrupted her, "this is your choice. You have to decide if you want to get in touch with your grandfather or not. It is not my decision to make. Do whatever you feel is right. Exchange letters. Meet in person. Discuss your upbringing, his political ideas, his sons, magic, family traditions, Muggles or whatever you want. Become a part of the family. Ignore him. Pretend like the Lestrange family does not exist. You decide. Not me. You."

Hermione remained quiet for a long time, before she finally cleared her throat, "I will look him up and decide then. As of now, I do not have enough information on him… But what do you think would be the best option to establish contact?"

Later that night, Harry was on his way to the statue of the one-eyed witch, Gunhilda of Gorsemoor. He was in a fantastic mood, as was Tom. While the revelation earlier that day had certainly been surprising, it also opened up a multitude of possibilities. In the back of his mind, Tom replayed a few conversations he had had with Corvus while still being at school, most of which focussed on the strict inheritance rules established by the increasingly paranoid growing generations of the Lestrange family. He hoped he could clarify a few of them tonight.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry felt the weight of the castle's wards being taken off his shoulders. With a soft crack, he Apparated straight to the lavish entrance hall of Malfoy Manor. The moment Harry appeared there, a House Elf clad in a pillowcase that had clearly seen better days popped up in front of him, "Welcome to Malfoy Manor, Heir Potter. Dobby is so happy that the noble Harry Potter has returned. Shall Dobby be getting Master?"

"I suppose your master is in his study," Harry said, giving the euphoric Elf a calculating glance.

"Yes, Harry Potter," Dobby squeaked, "Master best in his study."

"Please inform him that I'm on the way," Harry said curtly before making his way towards said study while Dobby disappeared with a soft pop. By now, the wards should have already alarmed the Lord of the Malfoy family that a guest had arrived. Walking past lengthy rows of pale skinned men with long blond hair, Harry soon stood in front of the massive double door of Lucius' study. Knocking twice, Lucius told him to enter.

Despite the late hour, Lucius Malfoy was immaculately dressed. No hair was out of place and his lavish lilac robes made out of the finest silk one could buy was void of any wrinkles.

"Heir Potter, welcome to Malfoy Manor," Lucius' silky voice cut through the silence of his office while his cold grey eyes were observing Harry for any kind of threat, "what an unexpected guest at such a late hour."

"Good evening, Lord Malfoy," Harry smiled, showing his open and empty hands, trying his best to not appear threatening, "it is a late hour indeed. I must excuse myself for this unannounced meeting, but a situation arose at Hogwarts that demanded swift action."

"A situation?" the Malfoy Lord stared at him, a glance of curiosity in his cold eyes.

"A situation indeed," Harry said, his smile turning feral, "a most surprising situation."

"Do you need my help to solve that situation ?" the Malfoy Lord asked eagerly, seemingly keen to prove himself.

" Help would be an overstatement, Lucius," Harry chuckled, before his Avada-green eyes turned into a deep crimson, " assistance would be the fairer assessment."

Lucius shuddered in front of him, "I will do everything to assist you, my Lord."

Rolling his eyes, Tom ignored the spineless behaviour. Instead, he reached forward. Without asking, he grabbed the left wrist of Lucius and pushed back the expensive robe that was covering the Malfoy Lord's marked flesh. The wrist in his hand was slightly shaking but apart from that Lucius did not dare to voice his opposition of the unasked manhandling. Without further ado, Harry's illegal Alder wand was released from its Disillusioned wrist holder, its tip swiftly pushed against the marked flesh of the Dark Mark while the Dark Lord began to hiss. With every hissed word, the faded ink became more pronounced against the pale flesh. Once the hissing had stopped, Tom let go of the wrist. Lucius quickly pulled back his arm to stare at the Dark Mark, that looked like the day it had been magically branded on the skin.

"My Lord," Lucius gasped, his eyes open wide as he carefully traced the Dark Mark on his left forearm, "what… what did you… do? Did you… ca… call them back…"

"No, Lucius," Tom chuckled, "only one of my followers."

"Who?" Lucius asked, his voice slightly quivering without taking his eyes off the vibrantly moving Mark.

"My dear Lucius," the Dark Lord cackled, his smile all teeth, "I do not want to spoil the surprise."

"But…" the Lord of the Malfoy Lord began.

"Silence," Tom hissed before more of the inevitable protest could escape Lucius' lips, "you will be splendidly rewarded by being allowed to witness the conversation I am about to have. A bit of patience is all I ask for, Lucius."

The slightly shaken Malfoy Lord slightly nodded his head in understanding but otherwise remained silent. Leaning back in his chair, Tom watched the man opposite of him as they waited. Tom doubted they would be waiting for long. While they waited, Lucius was visibly squirming under the intense gaze of his Lord.

After several minutes, Tom felt a magical presence Apparating into the Manor's entrance hall. The reaction opposite of him told Tom that Lucius had sensed the newcomer as well.

"I have sensed the magical signature before," Lucius gasped, "but I cannot identify it."

Tom chose not to answer and instead kept his eyes on the Malfoy Lord. A minute later, the sound of approaching boots on the wooden floorboards echoed through the hallway and further through the closed wooden door of Lucius' office. A few seconds later, the door was thrown open, revealing the Death Eater Tom had called.

Despite being under Tom's intense gaze, Lucius Malfoy lost his composure upon laying eyes on the newcomer. Clearly frozen in his seat, the Lord of the Malfoy family could do nothing more than to stare at the figure in the doorway, his jaw slightly unhinged to the point it almost seemed like he was gawping like a commoner. Savouring the moment for as long as he could, Tom finally removed his gaze from the Malfoy Lord and focussed his eyes on the other Lord in the room.

Corvus Lestrange made an impressive figure as he was standing in the doorway. Despite the decade that had passed, the Lord of the Lestrange family did not appear one day older since Tom had last seen him. His smooth face still resembled the epitome of a Pureblood mask with its high cheekbones and strong jawline. No hair of his perfectly trimmed goatee was out of place, while his long hair was falling in long waves over his shoulders. The only indication that some time had passed were the few strands of silver in Corvus' otherwise nearly black hair, which had not been there a decade prior. Two dark orbs surrounded by a small ring of silver were boring into him like they always had. It was an intense gaze of calculation and curiosity like it always had been, although now there was a steely undertone present paired with a hint of resentment that had not been there a decade ago.

Suddenly Corvus moved, stepping into the room, his pupils dilating in apparent recognition and realisation, "After all those years… Tom, is that really you?"

The corners of Tom's, well, Harry's mouth curled into a smile, "Who else would it be, my old friend."

At that, Corvus Lestrange chuckled dryly, "Only you, Tom. Only you. Who else would hide in plain sight for all these years possessing Dumbledore's Golden Boy ?"

"Who said anything about possessing," Harry said sharply, sarcasm clearly underlining his voice while pushing the Dark Lord in the background, thus forcing the crimson eyes to change back to their usual vivid green, "usually, he is more or less riding along in the back. Like symbiosis…"

At the confused look on Corvus' face, Harry swiftly continued, "Anyway, we've arranged ourselves and have an equal say in the things we do. Secondly, I'm NOT anyone's Golden Boy…"

"But the papers," the Lord of the Lestrange family began, "they…"

" They ," Harry swiftly interrupted him, "have never asked me about my personal feelings on that matter."

"Allow me to ask you, Mister Potter," Corvus asked, sounding surprisingly respectful and truthfully curious, "what are your personal feelings on that matter?"

"It's Heir Potter," Harry's lips curled into a sharp smile, "it would be better for you to sit down, Lord Lestrange. I reckon it will be a long explanation."

An hour or so later, Corvus Lestrange stared at him, his eyes open wide, while his face remained a blank impassive mask, "You cannot be serious."

"Do I look like I'm currently incarcerated in Azkaban?" Harry asked mockingly. Before the mischievous heir to the Potter fortune could tell more of his favourite jokes, Tom pushed forward, forcing the Avada green eyes to turn back to a deep crimson, "Sorry for that, my old friend, but he is a truly devious and mischievous one and never passes on that joke."

Corvus Lestrange snorted, which in itself was such an uncommon sight that Tom could not help but wonder what else would happen tonight.

"So, you are truly working together?" Corvus' voice suddenly cut through his musing.

"Yes, we are," Tom confirmed, his voice steady and determined, "Harry and I are firmly on the same side. He is as Dark as I was when I was his age. We both agree that magic must be restored to its former glory and that this feat can only be achieved by total separation from the Muggles. They are doomed but they shall not be the end of us. We shall prevail."

"But, my Lord," Corvus began, a hint of doubt underlining his voice, "are you sure that you can…"

"Corvus, I'm more than aware of my… currently rather compromised position," Tom said, rolling his eyes, failing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, "but I have plans in motion and hopefully, my body will be restored within the next four months."

"How may I be of assistance, Tom," Corvus said, sounding eager while moving to the front of his chair, leaning forward.

"While you could be of assistance in the actual resurrection ritual, this is not the reason why I called you here today, Corvus," Tom chuckled softly at the unusual display of eagerness from his old friend, "we have other, far more important things to discuss. But before we start, I have a question for you: did you by any chance manage to change those strict inheritance rules of your family you once told me about?"

For a long moment, Corvus stared at him in faint confusion before he managed to regain his ability to speak, "No, most of them have proven to be irrevocable. But why…"

"Much like I had expected," Tom snorted, "my own family was nothing short of paranoid, as were the Blacks, but your family, Corvus, really took it to another level. Tell me, Corvus, am I right in my assumption that even if your sons were to be set free from the Dementors none of them could inherit the title of Lord Lestrange since only unconvicted members of the main Lestrange line can obtain the title?"

"Yes," Corvus answered after a moment of hesitation, despite his sharp wit clearly struggling to keep up with the rapid pace of questions, "but why?"

"None of our concern for now," the Dark Lord stated bluntly, cackling internally at the next question yet maintaining his blank mask of indifference, "what is of our concern for now is what you did in the Muggle world before your wedding, Corvus. Does the name Elisabeth Ashcroft ring a bell? I thought…"

A coughing sound suddenly interrupted his words. Turning slightly in his chair, Tom's eyes landed on the red face of Lucius Malfoy who so far had remained mostly quiet. He seemed close to swallowing his tongue at the underlining revelation of the Dark Lord's words. Choosing to ignore the Malfoy Lord for now, Tom turned back to the equally red face of Corvus Lestrange, "Tut, tut. Such hypocrisy, Corvus. Here I thought you were always looking down on others and excoriating them for reducing their nervousness before their wedding nights by seeking out the help of Muggle women. Didn't you especially ridicule dear old Abraxas for months after he did that?"

"What?" Lucius Malfoy suddenly managed to exclaim, somehow not swallowing his tongue, "my father never did something as disgusting as to…"

"Shut up, Lucius," Tom chided sharply, "even though everyone denies having engaged in such lascivious acts with Muggles, almost all of them are guilty. I'm…"

"My Lord," Corvus began to protest, trying to rein in his emotions as well as this agitated magic surrounding him back under control, "Tom, you must understand…"

"Corvus, I'm not here to scold you," the Dark Lord spoke with a much softer voice, "I understand the reasoning behind such acts of desperation perfectly well. It is one of the few aspects of Wizarding customs that I could never understand since it seems so outdated. Why wait until the wedding night? Anyway, I am not here to talk about Wizarding customs and traditions. I am here to talk about you, Corvus."

"How… how do you even know?" the Lord of the Lestrange family asked, this time successfully managing to keep the quiver out of his voice, while his face was blank again.

"It really is remarkable what you can come across at Hogwarts," Tom said lightly, leaning back in his chair to better observe the two Lords in the room, "something like this."

Without further ado, a copy of Hermione's family tree magically appeared on the table in front of Corvus with nothing but a wave of Tom's hand, "See for yourself. And by the way, this is legitimate. Harry and I brewed the Inheritance Potion ourselves."

At first, Corvus Lestrange appeared to be rather reluctant to pick up the roll of parchment. His dark eyes stared at the parchment so intensely, that it would not surprise Tom if the parchment burst into flames. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the Lord of the Lestrange family reached for the roll of parchment and straightened it out on the table. He stared at the family tree for a long moment remaining quiet.

"What is it?" Lucius Malfoy suddenly asked, trying hard to not sound impatient.

Corvus Lestrange refused to answer. Instead, he continued to stare at the parchment, his eyes slightly hazy and unfocused.

"Please, what is it?" Lucius repeated his question, the impatience in his voice now barely concealed.

Suddenly, Corvus looked up from the parchment. His eyes were staring in the distance, while he gasped, "I… I have a son and… a granddaughter."

A wide grin appeared on Tom's face, "Yes, you do, Corvus."

"A son, who could become my successor," Corvus whispered, now a determined look in his eyes.

"I would not focus too much on your son," Tom injected, the smile on his face turning sour, "as far as your granddaughter told me, well, she told Harry since they are in the same year at Hogwarts, your son does not possess an ounce of magic and in fact despises everything remotely magical, even his own daughter."

"No," Corvus gasped, "he cannot…"

"Yes, he can, and he does," Tom said, failing to keep the anger completely out of his voice, "he and his wife psychologically abuse and neglect their own daughter because of her magic. She does not fit into their worldview of portraying the perfect, upper-class Muggle family. Because of her magic, her abnormality, they fail to see how brilliant she is, how talented and how strong. Hermione is one of the smartest and strongest Witches of her generation. I have no doubt about that. All she needs is a bit of guidance."

"Why are you telling me this?" Corvus asked suddenly, "what do you want me to do?"

"Nothing," Tom said bluntly and went on to repeat the same words Harry had spoken to Hermione only hours earlier, "you can do all you want with this information. You could get to know her, integrate her into your family, her true family, teach her everything you know, and even name her your heiress. You could also ignore and deny her existence, thus dooming the continuation of your line. The House of Lestrange would cease to exist for all eternity. I certainly will not force you to do anything. It is all up to your own decision once Hermione Granger choses to contact you."

For the next minutes, Corvus stared quietly at the parchment in front of him. When he finally looked up and spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, "You gave me a lot to think about, Tom. But do not think for a moment that I did not realise what you were doing. You have always had your way with words, twisting them in your favour, luring and manipulating those around you with your sugar-coated words rolling off your silver tongue. You have always been a master manipulator. Nevertheless, I do appreciate that you do not force anything upon me."

"I would never interfere with family matters," Tom said sincerely, "never. Your blood is your blood. Mine is mine. Still, I am most certain that you will make the right decisions and do what is best for you. You always have."

"That I will," the Lord of the Lestrange family spoke, his voice much steadier. His eyes spoke of determination as they met Tom's deep crimson ones. Corvus lowered his eyes after a couple of seconds and sighed, pushing himself off the chair, "You have truly given me a lot to think about, my old friend. If that is everything, I would like to leave…."

"Actually, Corvus, there is something else I would like to discuss with you," the Dark Lord's voice cut through the words of the Lestrange Lord like fire through ice, "sit down, please."

Although it had been voiced as a request, everyone in the room knew that this was an order. The tone in which the message had been delivered clearly indicated that there was business to be done. Serious business, "Corvus, upon my return in the magical world I was most surprised to discover that your sons alongside Bellatrix and Barty Crouch Junior had gone after the Longbottoms and managed to earn themselves life sentences in Azkaban."

"You were surprised?" Corvus whispered, his eyes widening slightly.

"Surprised indeed," Tom chuckled darkly, no humour to be found, "you are aware that only those of the Inner Circle were aware of the prophecy and my plans to go after the Potters and the Longbottoms. Do you recall the order I gave to all of you?"

Corvus Lestrange closed his eyes for a long moment to recall the words that had been spoken to him a decade ago, "That… that both families were to be… left alone and you would deal with them personally."

"Indeed, Corvus," Tom snapped, "indeed. I have no idea what they were thinking going after the Longbottoms, especially after my strict order not to…"

"You did not order them…" Corvus began, only to be interrupted by Tom, "Of course not. I want to clarify this once and for all: I did not order them to go after the Longbottoms, least of all torture them into insanity and then get caught by the Aurors. It was a stupid and utterly reckless thing to do."

"It is one thing we agree upon," Corvus said finally, shaking his head, "if I was honest to myself, I never thought you had told them to go after the Longbottoms, especially in that fashion. It's…"

"…not an order that I would have given," Tom concluded, "exactly. But their actions got me thinking: why did they do it in the first place? We both know your sons. You have raised them. I have trained them. Sure, they are and always have been loyal to the cause, but never reckless. The same goes for Barty. The three of them would have never gone against my orders, even in my absence. Furthermore, while they could resort to violent measures if necessary and their life depended on it, neither of them revelled in torture. This became more than apparent throughout the years I trained them. They would never torture somebody into madness…"

"…Bellatrix on the other hand would," Corvus said darkly, every bit of resentment showing in his words for ever having agreed to the arranged marriage between his firstborn and Cygnus Black's eldest.

"That she would. It seems like the exact thing Bellatrix would like to do. We have always know that she is reckless and unstable, but to directly go against one of my orders," Tom spat, the air around him sizzling with Dark waves of magic, "how she got the idea in her head that torturing the Longbottoms would lead to anything remotely good I have no idea. I would not be surprised if she did it out of reverence or to get me back and came up with this plan on the spot, while no one was able to stop her. I doubt that your sons or Barty cast a single curse on the Longbottoms. Of that I am most certain. Since neither was granted a trial, their lack of involvement went unnoticed. What would they get for not interfering? Three to ten years in Azkaban depending on the severity of the crime according to the Bystander Law of 1693? Another five for being a member of an illegal organisation?"

At that, Corvus laughed darkly, "As if they would ever be granted a trial. Dumbledore will promote the reinstatement of Pureblood customs and legalise the Dark Arts before that happens."

Tom chuckled, a Cheshire grin appearing on his face, "That is where you are mistaken, Corvus. A trial might become possible sooner than you think."

Corvus' calculating gaze rested on him for a few long seconds, "You have something planned, do you not?"

At that, Tom's smile only turned sharped, "That I do. Tell me, Corvus, did you ever suspect anything peculiar about the convicted Secret Keeper of the Potters?"

"Black?" the Lord of the Lestrange family asked incredulously, "Sirius Black?"

Tom chuckled, "Yes, that Sirius Black."

"To be honest, that story always stroke me as an odd one," Corvus confessed, his calculated gaze resting on the Dark Lord, "I could and still cannot imagine Sirius Black betraying James Potter, least of all him swearing eternal loyalty to the Dark after all those years denouncing anything his family ever stood for."

"Exactly," Tom chuckled, "despite his heritage, Sirius Black would have been one of the last Wizards to ever willingly join me. As a matter of fact, he did not."

"It was Peter Pettigrew, was it not?" Corvus' words sounded more like a statement.

"It was," Tom confirmed, impressed but not surprised at his friend's skills of deduction, "he revealed the Potters' whereabouts to me once he became their Secret Keeper, having long since accepted the Mark in secrecy. When Sirius Black caught up to him, sent straight after Pettigrew by Dumbledore's orders, he cut off his own finger, fired off a few Exploding Charms, and turned into his Animagus form, a rat. Black was caught at the scene of the crime and thrown straight into Azkaban without receiving a trial, whereas Pettigrew went into hiding mostly remaining in his Animagus form. Eventually, he was found by the Weasley family and has remained in their care ever since. He currently resides at Hogwarts disguised as the pet of the youngest Weasley spawn."

"What are you planning?" Corvus asked, barely able to hide his eagerness.

"A few misaimed spells here and there, a bit of chaos, the usual end of the year fiasco," Tom said shrugging his shoulders, his voice dismissive as to not reveal too much, "but in the end, Harry and I will ensure that Pettigrew is discovered and Black is finally given a trial. This in turn should open the door for many that were thrown into Azkaban without a blink of an eye to finally receive their long-due trial."

"While that might be true for some, my boys will never be amongst them," Corvus hissed, "they were found at the scene of the crime barring the Mark having tortured the Longbottoms into insanity. They will be the last to ever receive a trial. You have no idea about the havoc the public would wreak if Rodolphus and Rabastan would be put on trial. The wrath they have received… Tom, you have no idea how much the public hates them for what they have done. No one would risk the backlash of granting them a trial, or even voicing the idea. I have tried many times. All my attempts vanished into nothingness. There is no way they will ever receive a trial, unless…"

"Unless the Longbottoms themselves publicly request a trial," Tom stated as a matter of fact, his voice void of emotions, curious how his friend would react.

"Augusta?" Corvus laughed darkly, "no, not even if this planet was to freeze over and this was the only option to save herself. No, she would never ask for a trial. Never. I tried to speak to her on numerous occasions, but she refuses to listen to my words. She is too devastated, too proud, too rabid to even consider negotiations with my family."

The smile on Tom's face turned sharper once more, "What if she was offered a deal she could not refuse?"