Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to them.


"Why do you keep on reading me this muggle story, Uncle Sirius?" the young Harry Potter asked tiredly, as only a nine year old could.

"I told you, it's what your parents wanted."

The two were snuggled on their couch, Christmas tree lit with magical candles that changed color and shape as the night wore on. Their home, small and secure, stilled smelled like the feast the house elves had prepared for Christmas dinner. The presents opened that morning were put away, the torn wrapping paper disposed of. Sirius opened the well-worn book where he had placed the ribbon the night before. They only had a dozen pages left to read this holiday.

"I want to read the one with the lion," Harry complained. "Or Babbitty Rabbitty."

"Tomorrow. Tonight, we finish A Christmas Carol."

"But we read it every year, and on my birthday too," Harry whined. "I know it by heart."

"Hush. Here we are. 'Yes! and the bedpost was his own. The bed was his own...'"

The night wore on, and soon Harry was tucked into his own bed. The joys of Christmas, tempered by the knowledge that his parents weren't there to celebrate it with him, ran through his head as he tried unsuccessfully to sleep. It was because of that that he saw immediately when the room begin to brighten.

"Who, who's there?" Harry questioned uncertainly.

There was a bright flash, and in place of the light stood a being that frightened Harry. Seven feet tall, black robe, sallow face of an ancient woman, armed with a very functional scythe. This being was not one to trifle with.

"Wow, you look like you fell out of the ugly tree," Harry spoke without thinking, his eyes widening after he realized what passed through his lips without consulting his brain.

Fortunately for Harry, the being just laughed and smiled. Unfortunately, the smile didn't help the appearance.

"My young Harry, I am glad you retain some of your youthful joviality. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Death."

"Am I going to die?" Harry asked hesitantly. He didn't think he should fear death, but he was certain he didn't want to die.

"Eventually, young one. Eventually. But not this night. Tonight, this night of Christmas Day, I come with a gift to you. On this night, you will be visited by three ghosts. They will teach you, and guide you, and give you the knowledge you must know to be successful. And every night onwards, three ghosts will come to teach you, until you know everything you need to know."

"Can I see my parents?" Harry pleaded, hope in his eyes that Death could say yes and fear that she would say no.

"On this night, I will give you that gift. There will come a time in your life when you will be able to summon them again, but that time has not come yet." It was a compromise, true, but one that cost Death only a pittance while reaping a mountainous reward.

With a snap of its fingers, Death disappeared, replaced by three figures. Two he recognized from pictures of his parents, the third was unknown. Harry jumped out of bed to embrace his family. Unfortunately, he passed right through them in his attempt to give them the biggest hug he could.

"I'm so sorry, Harry, but we can't touch you, not yet," Lily, Harry's mother, sighed. "But we can talk. Your father and I are so proud of you."

"I love you mama," Harry cried, wiping away his tears. He was a grown boy, and boys don't cry. Instead, he turned to the unknown third person. "Who are you?"

"Ack, we can talk later, laddie. Talk with your mum and da for now," the stranger commanded. At Harry's insistent stare, he relented. "Fine, I'm Merlin, but save the fan-girling til later, will ya? We dunno have all night."


"And then Merlin talked to me about the ancient magics, and how the laws he set up with Arthur are stronger than most of the Wizegamot laws, at least when they contradict," Harry gushed to Sirius at breakfast.

"That's nice, Harry," Sirius shrugged, only paying partial attention. The day after Christmas was a tough one for him, emotionally from the stress, physically from the hangover. The only day worse for him than Boxing Day was Halloween.

"He told me about the Stirpes Praetrunco spell, he said you might be interested in it."

Flecks of eggs and toast scattered over the table as Sirius coughed roughly. He turned sharply to his godson.

"Harry, where did you learn about that ritual?" Sirius demanded as calmly as possible, careful not to spook the boy.

"I told you, Merlin told me about it. Showed me how to do it too. He didn't tell me everything it does, just that it's used to cast someone out of the family."

"It's Old Magick, ending with a k, old enough that the ancient times that reference it predate the English language. It's been lost for generations. And it does more than cast someone out of the family. It will alter their very being to remove all traces and information about the family from them."

"Cool, want me to teach you how to do it?" Harry asked excitedly as only a child could.


"How was your night, Harry?" Sirius began in the morning, more warily than most. Yesterday's revelation that Harry had somehow rediscovered a lost blood ritual had been shocking, to say the least. More shocking was that he had verified the ritual was accurate, to the best of his knowledge and rapid research. He wouldn't dare try casting it without significant preparation and verification, though, but he hadn't seen anything to say it wouldn't work.

"Wicked. Merlin came back again, and he brought two new friends. He had a dragon named Maylzred The Powerful One and a basilisk named Thusaxu. They taught me all the things I can do with dragon magic and parseltongue magic. Here, watch this."

Before Sirius could react, Harry had grabbed a strand of sausage links and hissed. The connected lines of meat began to wriggle and, to Sirius' amazement, slither around the table. After it made its way back to Harry, the boy hissed again and the sausage lay still once again. Harry cut off the first piece and shoved it in his mouth.

"Neat-o, right?"

"Very much so," Sirius agreed, too shocked at the intentional magic and the parsel-magic to do otherwise. "So that means you must be a parseltongue, right?"

"That's what Merlin said. The great thing is Thusaxu says I don't even have to learn a new language like I did with Latin or French, I just know it. And Maylzred says it'll work on the common drakes as well."

"Drakes?"

"That's what Maylzred calls the dragons we know about, like the Horntails and Chinese Fireball and the Ridgebacks. He says the iTrue Dragons/i are more advanced than those animals," Harry said while chewing his sausage. "He said he might be able to teach me to shapeshift like he can later. Want to see what else they taught me?"


"Welcome Lord Black. What brings you to the Greengrass home?" Anthony Greengrass, head of the Greengrass family, greeted.

"Hi Tony," Sirius answered, more informal now that the limited societal niceties the two of them participated in were complete. "I was hoping I could borrow some of your tomes in your library, specifically the parseltongue ones."

"Not sure what use they would be to you, unless you were planning on impressing a lovely Slytherin lady that you brought back to your home."

Sirius weighed his possible answers. On the one hand, the Greengrass family had been neutral during the war, and had subtly assisted in rounding up the Death Eaters after That Halloween. On the other, they had been pushing for some of the Traditionalist legislation in the Wizengamut, albeit not as extreme as the likes of Malfoy or Parkinson. It came down to if he trusted Tony enough to expose one of Harry's many, many secrets.

"Turns out, Harry is a parseltongue. I learned about it a while back. I wanted to see if he could read it as well as speak it, and you have the only parseltongue books that I know of, at least amongst the families I trust."

"Well, now, that is an interesting development," Tony observed, stroking his short beard in contemplation. "Come into my office, we'll discuss terms."

Following the older man, Sirius noticed Tony's granddaughter, Daphne, hiding behind one of the pillars. It seemed the girl would be a future Slytherin like the rest of her family, sneaking around trying to overhear their conversation. What's more, it seemed like Tony knew she what she was doing, based on the circuitous path they took to the large room reserved for greeting guests and negotiating deals.

"Firewiskey or Brandy?" Tony Greengrass offered.

"Firewiskey, please," Sirius answered. A quick check for poison, by both men, and they were enjoying the burn of their throats.

"I know you have made the Potter boy your heir, Sirius," Tony revealed. Sirius hadn't announced it, but some families paid to be informed of such developments, so it wasn't surprising Tony knew. "Having two titles means he will be allowed certain privileges, such as two official wives."

Sirius noticed the door to the room wasn't closed all the way, and a questioning glance towards Tony was returned with a knowing smile. It seemed there would be three participants in this conversation after all. Tony did like to play his games, as far back as Hogwarts.

"He's not even in Hogwarts yet, Tony. I'm not signing any contracts for him, marriage or betrothal or otherwise," Sirius affirmed. Had this been private, he'd have rejected a marriage contract using stronger language, but for whatever reason Tony wanted Daphne to hear it. He was tempted to prank them both, but he himself was intrigued at what Tony's game was.

"Not asking you to, just observing the unique position young Harry Potter is in. Unless you decide to have an heir of your own, the boy will be entitled to two seats on the Wizengamut, two votes for the open seats on the Hogwarts Board of Directors, two wives to continue the two lines. Add to that the stress of speaking what some would wrongly consider a Dark Language, and poor Harry will need help. And those books are much too valuable to be lent out to those not of the family."

"What do you propose?" Sirius urged, knowing Greengrass's speech wasn't for his benefit, but for their eavesdropper.

"Bring Harry here to read the books, with one of my daughters as his escort and guide. Daphne, perhaps. If they become friends or more, we can broach the topic of contracts at a later point when both are older, when both can give their informed consent, of course. If they do not become friends, no harm done besides some simple socializing with peers."

"Of course. Due to necessity, Harry doesn't have many wizarding friends, mostly muggle. Having someone his age to talk to about magic would help his development," Sirius agreed with a twinkle in his own eye to match the one in the Greengrass Patriarchs'. "Another refill, Tony?"


"And this time, it was Maylzred, and some guy named Tom, and the bony lady. Maylzred didn't teach me any new dragon magic, but did start to tell me about dragon plots and stuff. We talked about how to ruin someone else or help others out of their problems without anyone else knowing. Tom seemed grumpy, but taught me about mind magics. He's working with me to build my own mental shields and stuff. And anagrams. If you take my name, and rearrange it, it comes out to Terra Trophy. Yours is Basilisk Cur. Maylzred through that was funny, and said Thusaxu would laugh at you being his cur. The bony lady didn't say much, just seemed to watch Tom work, and told me about life and death and how death has a purpose and all that. It wasn't creepy like, just sort of matter of fact, but I don't know how I feel about it."


"Sirius?" It was a quiet and subdued ten and a half year old Harry that came down for breakfast that chilly February morning.

"What happened, Prongslet?" Sirius asked, walking over to the boy he considered his son.

"My imaginary friends aren't imaginary," Harry confided. "The ones who visit me at nights in my dreams. I suspected for a while, but I think I now know for sure."

"I figured that out a long time ago, Harry," Sirius reassured. "What did they teach you last night?"

"Tom told me about some evil magic, really really dark stuff, called horcruxes. He told me what you had to do to make it, and it scared me."

"If it scared you, you don't have to practice it," Sirius hugged the boy who was nearly crying. "Who else was there?"

"The bony lady, of course. She's always there when Tom visits. And someone new who said their name was Salazar. Isn't that the first name of the Slytherin founder?"

"It is. With everything you've learned, it wouldn't surprise me if it was the ghost of Slytherin. What did he teach you?"

"He worked with me on figuring out what people really want, like reading body language and stuff. He also worked with me on my parseltongue, and started on some other weird language called gobbledegoop. He talked with me all about Hogwarts, too. Did you know there was a secret passage between the school and the sweets shop?"