The Devil in Me

I've Been Quiet For Too Long

The chapter title is from the song:

Silence by Marshmello feat. Khalid.

"Where the hell were you last night?"

"Uh, here, obviously."

Lily raised an eyebrow, "No, you weren't. I was here, and you were definitely not here."

"You were here? You weren't with Tom?" Harry asked in surprise.

Lily raised an eyebrow, "No, because most people are sad after a funeral. They get drunk, and they have a cry or whatever, then they go to sleep. Tom is more of an 'I want to reflect on his life and think about his sacrifice' kind of guy, mind you, but still."

Harry snorted and threw himself on the sofa.

"Did you go home with someone, or did you just pass out somewhere in Nott Manor?" Lily asked him.

"I found a cabin on the grounds of Nott Manor, and I commemorated Theo's life and death," Harry said with a satisfied smirk.

Lily rolled her eyes, "Oh my god, you fucked Reyna Rookwood at Theo's funeral!"

"It was grief sex!"

"That's not a thing!"

"Reyna said it was," Harry pointed out.

"And you trusted her?" Lily asked, an amused look on her face, "The girls a borderline nymphomaniac, Harry!"

Harry wanted to object, but he realised he really couldn't, "Yeah, fair point."

Lily grabbed a book and sat down next to Harry, resting her feet on his lap, "If Theo comes back as a vengeful ghost, I'm blaming you."

"Technically, you should blame Reyna for seducing me or Gus for giving me permission to go there," Harry pointed out.

"Uh-huh," Lily said, giving Harry a knowing look, "Cause you're such a pillar of ethics, right? You expect me to believe you were a helpless victim who just fell into Reyna's arms in your drunken, sad state?"

"I did kind of expect you to believe that, yes," Harry admitted.

Lily snorted, "You forget that I've slept with you too, don't you?"

"Considering who you're sleeping with now, I do try to forget that you and I ever happened," Harry agreed, shooting her an amused grin.

Lily kicked him but smiled, "At least Reyna managed to cheer you up. That's got to stand for something, I suppose."

Harry summoned a book from the shelf behind Lily, "It wasn't just Reyna that cheered me up. I had a conversation with Cygnus Greengrass that ended on an excellent note."

Lily looked up in surprise, "You didn't?"

Harry grinned, "Oh, I did," he caught the book he had summoned.

"This full moon, we will have the Greengrass family confirm their loyalty, and as of now, we have the full support of Greengrass Shipping Incorporated."

Lily chuckled and lifted her legs off him, "Well, as great as that is, don't get too comfy. Tom needs you to kill someone."

"On a Sunday morning?" Harry objected.

"What, you're a man of god now?" Lily retorted.

"No, I'm hungover," Harry complained, "My moral compass may have slipped a little last night to accommodate the 'grief sex'-"

"Not a thing," Lily interjected.

"But," Harry continued, "It was aided in doing so by a hipflask of home-brewed Rookwood firewhiskey."

Lily snorted, "Then go to the hospital wing and ask Narcissa for a sober-up potion. They work for hangovers too. You will want a clear head when you murder Dolores Umbridge."

Harry looked up, "He wants me to kill Umbridge?"

Lily looked down at her book, "She's causing problems at the Ministry. She lied about being a Selwyn which gave her a black mark on her name, and now she is torturing Muggle-borns who are brought in to collate the required data for the Marriage Law."

"I thought everyone at the Ministry was doing that," Harry said dryly.

"No, Muggle-borns are being tortured if they refuse to give their data then get caught by snatchers," Lily corrected, "Umbridge is torturing the ones who willingly come in to hand over their information."

"Sounds like old Toad face," Harry said. He clapped his hands together with glee, "Oh, I am going to enjoy this."

Lily held something out to him and said, "If it weren't for the fact Tom had forbidden it, I would have tagged along for the ride, but apparently, this is your vendetta to settle."

Harry smirked and took the thing in her hands. It was a brown file with the words "BURN AFTER READING" stamped on the front.

"What's this?"

"Her Ministry file, which has her address on it," Lily drawled, looking up at Harry, "How else are you supposed to find her?"

Harry opened the file and said, "Still, this is a little bit James Bond, don't you think? Burn after reading and all that? Next thing I know you'll be telling me that this thing is going to self-destruct."

"You have read the address, haven't you?"

Harry thought she was joking, but he looked at the address on the file all the same. Just as he did so, the file spontaneously combusted in his hands, and Lily smirked into her book.

With a roll of his eyes, Harry pushed himself to his feet, "Tom is such a drama queen," he said on a parting note.

"Narcissa," Harry said with his most polite smile.

Narcissa smiled back, "Harry. What can I do for you?"

"I don't suppose you have any sober-up potions hanging around? I have a tiny little bit of a hangover, and I have someplace to be for the Dark Lord, so…" He left it hanging.

Narcissa gave him a knowing look and unlocked a cabinet. She rummaged around for a moment, then handed him a vial full of murky green liquid, "I do not suppose this hangover has anything to do with Reyna Rookwood and your disappearance last night?"

Harry felt more than a little like he was being questioned and judged on his love life by his mother. All the same, he knocked the potion back, then answered, "Possibly."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow at Harry, "After what Augustus-"

"It's okay," Harry interjected, "Gus knows, and he's okay with it. All he asked was that I don't lead Reyna on, and I don't intend to. She knows that our relationship is more of a physical one than an emotional one."

Narcissa sighed, "One day, you will have to settle. You are 17 now, but you are the head of the Potter family and perhaps even the Black family."

"Surely that title goes to Lily?" Harry asked, "She's closer than I am, by blood."

"That will depend on Sirius's will and how airtight it is," Narcissa said offhandedly, "I do not suppose you have been to his vault at Gringotts to inspect it?"

"No, I haven't," Harry admitted sheepishly.

"You really ought to," Narcissa advised, "Because if you are the head to two families, you will need to have two sons, an heir for each family. That means that one day soon, Harry, you must think about your future."

Harry nodded. It felt kind of nice to have someone thinking about his future and watching his back, "I promise that once the war is over and I have, hopefully, survived, I will seriously think about my future."

Narcissa smiled slightly and nodded.

Dolores Umbridge lived in a house as hideous as her soul. It was sickeningly cute, like her office at Hogwarts had been, but Harry hated everything about it, from the thatched roof to the pastel pink door. He took a step towards it and held out his hand; he scoffed in disbelief, "No wards? How fucking stupid is she?" he muttered to himself.

All the same, Harry proceeded to approach the tiny cottage with caution.

When he reached the door, he cast a diagnostic charm and found one protective spell on the cottage – an anti-intruder jinx that alerted the occupant that someone was breaking in.

Harry wouldn't have put it past her to have hidden booby traps throughout the cottage, so he cast a more refined diagnostic charm to find out if there were curses on objects inside the small property.

A metaphorical red flag came up in the corner of the lounge. Harry guessed it was probably a cabinet of some sort but whatever was inside it had to be valuable because it was guarded with a disintegration curse.

Harry broke down the wards on the door with relative ease. Of course, doing so alerted Umbridge to the fact there was an intruder. But instead of being smart and apparating, or floo-ing to safety, she rushed to investigate. Harry smirked, grateful that the cottage was in the middle of nowhere in the English countryside because it meant that Harry could use magic without worrying about the repercussions.

When Umbridge saw Harry, her eyes widened in fear.

Harry grinned widely, "Hello, Dolores. You look well; I aim to change that."

The colour drained from Umbridge's face, and Harry smiled falsely, "It's been a while, hasn't it? Can I come in? I'd kill for a cup of tea."

He pressed past her, disarming her in the process. Then with a casual flick of his wand, he sent her flying back into an armchair and bound her there.

"Please, Mr Potter," Umbridge begged, "I am sorry for the way I treated you. It was wrong of me, and I see that now, but I wholeheartedly believe in your cause, and I would do anything to show it."

Harry laughed, "You think we're going to mark a mediocre half-blood like yourself? Hell, your father was barely a wizard. You're basically a muggle-born."

Umbridge's eyes flashed angrily, but she didn't dare voice that anger.

With a smirk, Harry waved his wand at a tea set in the corner of the room. As it began to bubble and brew, he took a seat opposite her and looked around her lounge - it looked like a replica of her office at Hogwarts.

"Perhaps your upbringing is to blame for your garish sense of home décor," Harry said distastefully.

"I do have some suppressed childhood trauma that-"

"Oh, sorry," Harry cut in, "Your tone implies that I'm supposed to care?"

Umbridge shut her mouth, her cheeks colouring.

"I couldn't care less if your parents abused you or if those centaurs raped you a couple of years ago," Harry said coldly.

The colour in her cheeks rose, and Harry smirked, leaning forward in his chair, "Actually, scratch that, I'm curious. Did they rape you?"

"No, of course not," Umbridge replied quietly.

Harry waved his wand, slicing a deep wound into her arm, "Dolores," he said condescendingly, "You must not tell lies."

The fear on Umbridge's face was a joy to behold, and if anyone deserved this, it was her. Harry leant back in his chair as a cup of tea floated towards him, "I made some wonderful new friends this year. One of them is quite the spell inventor, he specialises in hexes and curses, and some of them are as wonderful as they are inventive."

Umbridge's eyes widened.

"Did you know, for example, that you can use legilimency to torture a person?" Harry asked. He sipped his tea, "And not just by making them relive their worst memories either, but by drawing something out of their mind and using that to torture them physically?"

Umbridge shook her head, "You are a psychopath."

"I prefer the term sociopath," Harry said with a shrug, "Anyway, you're going to need this."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black quill.

Umbridge's eyes widened, and she tried to shake her head, "No. Mr Potter, please-"

"Don't beg me," Harry scoffed, "It won't save you, and it just makes your death all the more pathetic."

Umbridge tried to move against her restraints anyway. With a roll of his eyes, Harry said, "Legilimens!"

Once he was inside her head, he forced all of her lies to the surface and broke the connection. Then he took great pleasure in crying, "Imperio!"

Her eyes glazed over, and Harry said, "You are going to take this quill and write down every single lie that you have ever told. By the time you are done, I expect you will have bled out from the two wounds on your wrists."

Harry put the quill into her hand and undid the bonds on her right arm. He put a piece of parchment on the side table and lay her hand on top of it. Then he made another deep cut just above her wrist on her other arm. They were close enough to make her bleed out slowly, rather than to kill her quickly, but it would ensure that she would die from blood loss all the same.

With a satisfied smirk, Harry put his wand in his pocket and sipped his tea once more, watching Umbridge's hand move across the paper with great satisfaction.

Then the sound of slow clapping alerted Harry to another presence in the room. He gripped his wand tightly and turned around, expecting to see another Death Eater there who had been sent to observe and test him. However, he lowered his wand the moment he saw Hermione Granger step out of the shadows.

She looked different than she had when he had seen her last. She had been in dirty jeans, layered up with sweatshirts and a jacket, her hair up in a messy bun. She had looked like a woman on the run, but now, she was all cleaned up. Her hair was a little more tame than usual, and if Harry wasn't mistaken, she was wearing a glamour charm.

She walked into the room, the light of the fire enveloping her and Harry smiled approvingly at her new attire – skinny jeans, a black leather jacket and in true Hermione fashion, sensible black boots.

"So your boyfriend dies, and your first instinct is to go out and murder someone?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow at her former best friend, "Could you be any more predictable?"

Harry's smile turned into a grin, "While I love the newfound confidence, you do need to get your facts straight. 1 – Theo wasn't my boyfriend, I was just sleeping with him. 2 – my first instinct was to murder someone, yes, but that person was Ron. 3 – The Dark Lord ordered me to kill dear Dolores; I did not choose to do it, just a happy coincidence, I suppose."

"Hm," Hermione said, her eyes on the imperiused woman before them, "I can see that it is such a challenging task for you to perform."

Harry chuckled, "Disapproving tone, judgy eyes. You haven't changed at all, have you?"

"You have," Hermione countered, her eyes on his, "You're stronger, meaner, sexy."

Harry chuckled, "That newfound confidence has done wonders for you too. Guess it must be all the werewolf sex. I have always wondered, do Fred and George do everything together?"

Old Hermione would have cursed him or hit him, but intriguingly enough, new Hermione smirked and replied, "Of course they do."

Harry put his cup down and got to his feet, "Hermione Granger, the good girl who hid out in the library and did everything by the book? What would she think of her older self, consorting with werewolves, two men under her thumb?"

Hermione gave him an amused look, "By the book? I stopped doing things by the book when I became friends with Harry Potter."

Harry took a step towards her, "Oh, don't kid yourself. I remember that little girl with tears in her eyes; we could have been killed, or worse, expelled."

Hermione smiled, "Don't push me, Harry. We are not on the same side right now, and I will curse you."

"I know the words are a threat, but it kind of feels like you're flirting with me," Harry said, taking one more step, so he was standing as close to her as he dared.

A growl sounded from the doorway, and Harry looked over.

"Werewolf One," Harry acknowledged, "Your counterpart is somewhere nearby, I presume?"

Fred crossed his arms over his chest, "If you think we'd have let her come here alone, then you've lost your mind."

Harry chuckled and took a step back, "Relax, I wasn't threatening her; we were flirting," he shot Hermione a grin.

"Well, don't," Fred said firmly.

Harry looked from Fred to Hermione, and then he burst out laughing, "Wow. Okay, wow. This is great. I mean, I knew you were bossy Hermione, but really?"

Fred frowned, "What's he…?"

"Apparently, being a Death Eater has heightened Harry's senses and intelligence," Hermione said dryly, "Because he appears to have worked out our pack dynamics."

Harry shook his head in amusement, a broad grin on his face, "You're the alpha? You're the only one who isn't a wolf, and you're the alpha."

Fred rolled his eyes, and George stepped into the room behind his brother.

"Have you got a lead for each of them so you can take them out for walks now and again?" Harry asked through his laughter, "Got to exercise dogs or they lose their muscle mass, you know?"

George gave Fred an irritated look

"That explains why you're so protective over her," Harry said, still chuckling, "She's your queen."

Hermione gave him an exasperated look, "Enough. Do you really think we came here to watch Dolores Umbridge carve herself to death?"

"Although that is a satisfying aside," George admitted.

"Don't side with the Death Eater," Fred muttered.

George snorted and leant against one of the cottages tiny window frames, "Look around you Freddie, there are more of them than anything else. If we don't start siding with Death Eaters soon, we'll be dead."

"George is right," Hermione said, her eyes meeting Fred's, "But I'm not convinced that this is the one we ought to be siding with yet."

Harry placed his hand on his heart, "You wound me, Hermione. Are all those years of friendship really forgotten? The hugs? The times you would grab my hand when you were scared? That one kiss."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, "Are you trying to piss them off, Harry? Do you know anything about werewolves?"

Harry smirked and eyed the cabinet behind her, "I know not to pet one."

"Funny," Hermione remarked. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a locket, "Looking for this, are you?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, "You have no idea how much you sounded like Draco just then. It's an instant turn off, I tell you."

"Good, quit flirting with her then," George said from the sidelines.

Hermione smiled over at the twins, "Boys, you can drop the territorial werewolf act. I think Harry has moved on to pastures new; the flirting is his way of winding you up. He has no real intentions at all."

Fred raised an eyebrow, "How did you work that out?"

"Years of experience," Hermione said, eyeing Harry with interest, "I know that you want this, Harry, but I want to bargain with you."

"So you intercepted me here, knowing you would have leverage," Harry muttered, "Smart of you, but I want to know how you knew she had that locket, and why does she have it?"

"She bought it from Mundungus Fletcher," Hermione replied, "I could tell you an elaborate story about how we keep tabs on what's happening at the Ministry, but it would be a lie. I saw her wearing it in a photograph in the Prophet."

"Fuck," Harry muttered, "Lucius is right. That piece of shit is useful for something other than wiping your arse with."

Fred and George sniggered unwittingly.

"Hm," Harry mused, his eyes falling on the locket, "Smart though."

"Of course I am," Hermione quipped.

"Speaking of Umbridge and her hatred of muggle-borns," Harry said, his eyes meeting hers, "You do know that you aren't one, don't you?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, "If you truly think someone as smart as me did not work out that I was adopted, then I think I might curse you where you stand."

"You knew you were adopted, and you never thought to mention that to Ron or me?" Harry asked in disbelief.

With a roll of her eyes, Hermione said, "I only found out when I turned 17."

"So at the start of our sixth year? And you still never mentioned anything?"

"You were far too busy moping and stalking Draco Malfoy," Hermione said offhandedly, "Anyway, nothing came of it until the summer after sixth year, while you were learning how to torture muggles and destroy dreams."

"Funny," Harry said, giving her an exasperated look, "Do you know who your parents are?"

"I know that my genetic make-up is primarily of the Wood and Crouch families," Hermione confessed, "But I don't know any more than that. Why? Do you?"

Harry nodded. He sat on the edge of the armchair he had previously occupied, "I know the whole story. Your mother was called Betsy Wood; she was a squib - Oliver Woods aunt."

Hermione glanced at Fred. The Weasley twin nodded, "We did tell you that the Wood family massacre was probably involved in some form."

"It's intricately involved," Harry said with a sigh, "The Death Eaters were sent there to wipe out the Wood family in January 1980 because they joined the resistance. They killed everyone, but my mentor, Augustus Rookwood, heard crying and went upstairs. He found you in your crib; you were tiny, younger than I was when my parents were killed."

Hermione frowned as she tried to decide whether Harry was telling the truth or not.

"Your mother was dead. She had killed herself when she heard the Death Eaters come in because she knew they treated squibs worse than they treated muggles," Harry said quietly, "But Gus looked at you and couldn't bring himself to hurt you. He waited until the Aurors came, and he let himself get arrested because he couldn't go home to his two baby girls after what he had just helped the Death Eaters do."

Hermione's eyes darkened, and she swallowed, "So he's a Death Eater with compassion? That's cute, but I don't really care."

"Yeah, I get that," Harry admitted, "The Aurors handed you over to the muggle authorities because they figured the child of a squib would never have magical properties, but that was because they didn't know that your father was a wizard."

Hermione made a face, "Look, just please don't tell me that the psychopath who pretended to be Moody is my father."

"It's not him," Harry promised, "It's Julian Crouch, he's a Death Eater, and he's Barty Crouch Juniors cousin."

"A Death Eater had a child with a squib?" Hermione asked in disbelief, "I doubt it was consensual then."

"It was," Harry promised, "He fell in love with her. He wanted to marry her. I think he would have defected from the Dark Lord to do so, but then Betsy was killed, and his daughter along with her, as far as Julian was concerned."

"He thinks you're dead," George realised.

"Almost everyone thinks she's dead, and the longer it stays that way, the better," Harry said sternly, "The moment the secret gets out, then Hermione becomes a target because you are not just any Crouch, Hermione. You are Julian's heir, his only heir. You will inherit the lot."

Hermione scoffed, "You think I care about that? I don't want to inherit anything from a man like You-Know-Who."

"He's actually very reasonable when you get to know him," Harry pointed out.

Hermione shook her head, "You sound like you've been brainwashed."

"No, I've just seen sense," Harry confessed, "The things he is doing, Hermione - they make sense. The laws he is passing will save wizard-kind. I know Ron was always banging on about how marrying Muggles is what saved us because we would have died out otherwise, and in a sense, he was right. But now we have more muggle-borns than we know what to do with, and they threaten to dilute magical blood so much that we might well die out because of that."

"So he wants to kill us all," Hermione remarked darkly.

"Not you, you're a half-blood, remember?" Harry pointed out.

Hermione fixed him with a stern glare, so Harry continued, "He's launching a Marriage Law. The head of a family can enact it if they choose to, and that's the key; it's a choice. Families with all-female heirs can marry their daughters to muggle-borns and keep the family name. Old, ancient lines like the Greengrass's don't die out, and in the process, the muggle blood is bred out within a generation or two."

Fred and George looked at each other. Hermione watched Harry but remained silent.

"You have a Ravenclaw head on those headstrong Gryffindor shoulders, Hermione," Harry said, his eyes meeting hers, "I know you can see sense in it."

Hermione looked down at the locket in her hands, "I will give you this, but I have terms."

Harry nodded, "Name them."

"You need to guarantee that Fred and George will not be harmed. That they will not be treated like feral dogs, sent out to do the masters bidding, not like Greyback was," Hermione practically ordered.

Harry nodded, "I give you my word."

Hermione held the locket out to Harry. He clasped his hand around it and breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, they held each others gaze.

"We want in, Harry."

Harry's eyes lit up, "Really?"

"The light has lost this war," Hermione said, crossing her arms over her chest, "Do I seem like the kind of person who will die needlessly in a war that has already been lost?"

"No, you don't," Harry said, smiling slightly, "You'll join us then? This full moon?"

Hermione nodded, "I will, I promise."

"You need to kill a muggle or just sacrifice someone in general, or the Dark Mark won't take," Harry reminded her, "Are you capable of that?"

Hermione's gaze didn't waver, "The old me wouldn't have been, but this me? The one who has been lied to and cheated by idiots like Ronald Weasley, yes Harry, I think she is perfectly capable of that."

Harry pocketed the locket and nodded, "Okay. I'll be in touch to tell you what you need to do."

Hermione gave a small nod.

"And it might be best to leave the pups at home," Harry said, nudging his head in Fred and George's direction, "Full moon and all probably isn't the best time to let them out to play."

Hermione fixed Harry with an irritated look.

George crossed his arms over his chest, "Bill and Charlie will have her back in our absence."

Harry looked at Hermione in amusement, "Huh, are you going to turn all the remaining Weasley siblings and integrate them into your pack, Hermione? Five werewolves and a banshee, certainly sounds like an interesting harem."

Hermione cocked her head at Harry but said nothing directly. Instead, she raised her wand and aimed it over Harry's shoulder, "Sectumsempra!"

A thump sounded, and Harry turned around. Umbridge's head was on the carpet by her feet, "You ruined my karma killing!"

Hermione smirked, "Did I? Sorry. Maybe next time you should think before you insult my pups," she said smoothly, "Come on boys, it seems like Harry has some cleaning up to do."

Fred and George chuckled and followed Hermione out of the house. Harry watched them go, trying to decide if he liked the new bitchy Hermione or not.

Harry was on his way to Toms office later that day when he bumped into Daphne. She cast her eyes over him and commented, "You're covered in blood. I presume it's not your own?"

Harry looked down and cursed, "Bugger, I thought I had gotten all of it – Scourgify."

Daphne raised an eyebrow.

"No, it's not mine," Harry muttered irritably, "And I shouldn't even be covered in blood. If I had just been left to karma kill Umbridge in peace, then this wouldn't have happened."

"Karma kill?"

"It's a long story, I'll explain sometime," Harry said with a wave of his hand, "But anyway, before Umbridge could slowly kill herself, Hermione chopped her bloody head off because I pissed her off."

"Did you say something insensitive about her werewolf boyfriends?" Daphne asked calmly.

Harry whipped his head around to look at her, "Are you reading my mind?"

"No, you're just predictable," Daphne said with a smirk, "And rash, oh and careless. Not to mention a little bit psychotic at times, but hey, at least you have your looks, right?"

Harry grinned, "Well, this is an interesting turn of events. You're flirting with me?"

Daphne's smirk turned into a smile, "Looks like I can add delusional to that list too, Potter!"

She strutted away, and Harry chuckled, feeling a lot lighter than he had before Theo's funeral.

He carried on up to Tom's office, knocked, then walked in and was grateful to find that he was alone.

"Harry, I presume you performed the task I asked of you?"

Tom hadn't even looked up from his work.

Harry sat down opposite his desk, "Yes, well, sort of. Umbridge is dead, but I didn't kill her."

Tom looked up and frowned, "Elaborate."

"I went there to kill her, I made her use a black quill to carve her own lies into her skin because you know how much I love karma," Harry said with a shrug, "But before she could finish killing herself, Hermione Granger cut her head off with dark magic."

"The Crouch heir?" Tom asked in surprise.

"Yeah," Harry said, leaning back in his chair, "I thought she didn't know about that, but she did know she was adopted and of a Wood-Crouch bloodline. I just filled in the gaps."

Tom said nothing, so Harry continued, "Anyway, she's not really on anyone's side right now. She's just been running around in the wilderness with a couple of werewolf brothers; it's like a bad play on those shitty vampire novels she's always reading."

Tom looked at Harry in disbelief.

"Also, hilariously enough, she is the leader of their little pack even though she isn't a wolf, but she was always bossy, so I guess-"

"The point Harry," Tom ground out, "You are as far away from it as I am from maintaining my patience."

Harry leant forward, "She knows she's a Crouch, and she wants in. She just used dark magic to behead Dolores Umbridge, and she asked to be marked. I didn't coerce or convince her, she asked. She has Lily's brains and Daphne's magical power."

"Never mind that," Tom said, leaning back in his chair. Suddenly he seemed to have all of the time in the world for Harry, "She is a figurehead for the light, and she always has been outspoken. If she would be so outspoken for us? That would do wonders for our cause, and it would positively destroy the light."

Harry felt Tom's delight at this wash over him, and he breathed out a sigh of relief.

"I must commend you on your improvement in recent weeks. I had begun to wonder if I had made a mistake in asking you to head up recruitment for our cause, but it appears, based on recent successes, that you may just be a late bloomer," Tom said, his eyes sparkling in amusement.

Harry snorted, "I feel like I should take offence to that, but it's oddly accurate. I'm also working on Neville Longbottom and Tracey Davis. I'm pretty sure I have Tracey convinced, but Neville? He's a wildcard."

Tom tapped the table thoughtfully, "And he is a key player."

With a nod, Harry said, "But I haven't given up hope on him yet."

"I have, however, given up hope for Julian Crouch," Tom countered, "A Death Eater who sired a child with a squib on the opposing side should not be allowed to live."

Harry made a face.

"I presume from the look on your face that you intend to convince me otherwise?" Tom asked with tired exasperation.

"I have a few plans up my sleeve to convince you, yes," Harry confessed, "Plan A is to appeal to your humanity and beg you to let the poor man meet his daughter and reconnect with her for the first time as an adult."

Tom raised an eyebrow, "A poor plan as you know that I have no humanity, Harry. What is plan B?"

Harry nodded, "Yep, that was predictable. Plan B was to tell you that Daphne Greengrass really doesn't want her Uncle Julian killed, so by sparing him, you would be giving me a shoe in the door."

"And I do not care about your foolish pursuit of the Greengrass girl," Tom remarked, "Did you have a Plan C?"

"Plan C is to remind you that he is the last male Crouch and could enact the marriage law. He's not too old to have a male heir, and I happen to know that Hermione can't have children, so he might need to," Harry said. He then shrugged.

"As for Hermione, I hope you spare her because with her magical power and intelligence, she would make a good Death Eater, and I think you know that."

Tom said nothing as he thought on this for a moment.

"And if you don't go for that then I'm going to skip straight to Plan F because that would mean that I am royally-"

The door opened before Harry could finish his sentence, and Lily shot him an amused look, "What, no Plan D for Dumbass?"

Tom looked down at his notes to hide a smile, but Harry and Lily both saw it.

"Funny, Lilith," Harry said, giving the girl a mock glare.

Tom looked up, entirely composed once more, "What do you think, Lilith? Should Julian Crouch be spared even though he sired a child with a squib whose family was fighting against us in the last war?"

Lily leant against the desk and answered, "Well, that is a difficult question to answer because circumstances do come into it. Was Betsy Wood working for the light, or was she just caught in the crossfire? As a squib, she didn't have options, so she had to stick to the most powerful person she could to preserve her life. She chose wrong and lost her life, but why should her daughter suffer for that by losing her father before she gets a chance to know him?"

Tom watched Lily with interest.

"But as far as Julian is concerned? It does come a little close to betrayal," Lily mused.

"But," Harry cut in, "Think of it this way, Tom. If it were your daughter and you had a chance to see her when you had spent years thinking she was dead. How would you feel?"

Lily rolled her eyes, "Really, Harry?"

"What, it's a metaphor!"

"And?" Lily muttered, "He doesn't understand metaphors when human emotion comes into them."

Tom frowned as he tried to process what Harry had said, "But that scenario is irrelevant because my daughter will have two magical parents – Bellatrix is not a squib."

Harry resisted the urge to smack himself in the face when Lily whispered, "See?"

"Punish him if you need to," Harry said, looking back at Tom, "Torture him all you need to, but let him live and then let him reconnect with his daughter because he's a shell of his former self now, but he hasn't always been that way. If you can give him back his daughter, his loyalty to you will be all the stronger for it, and you might just get the follower you had in the beginning back, along with his incredibly talented daughter."

Tom tapped his fingers against the table once more and sighed, "Fine. I will instruct Mulciber to speak to him under interrogation, but I shall let him live. When his daughter is marked, it will be made implicitly clear that she is a Crouch, however."

"Yeah, somehow I get the impression she's not going to care much about that," Harry admitted, "Since she's gone down the rabbit hole far enough that she's capable of ruining my karma killing."

Lily raised an eyebrow, "Hermione intercepted your murder of Umbridge?"

"Yes, and she was bitchy about it too," Harry muttered irritably.

"And attractive, very uncharacteristically attractive, which has me thinking – is Hermione my type? I mean, look at the girls I've gone for – you, Reyna, Theo, who was basically a male Hermione…"

"Daphne Greengrass, who is the opposite of Hermione in every sense," Lily finished, "Maybe that's why you like her so much."

Tom looked at Harry in amusement, "I believe this conversation has come to its natural end. Report back to me if you can get Longbottom or Davis on board before the full moon."

Harry nodded and turned to leave, "Oh, and there was one more thing, Tom," he said, spinning around to look at his master.

Tom sighed, "Yes?"

With a smirk, Harry pulled the locket out of his pocket and dropped it on Tom's desk, "Hermione gave me this, as a token of goodwill."

"If you had told me that in the first place, I would not have questioned your reasoning, Harry," Tom said, picking the locket up and sighing contently, "But then again, you do like to make life difficult for yourself."

Harry couldn't argue with that. He nodded and moved back towards the door; it was clear that Tom and Lily had other plans and that his presence was no longer desired.

"And Harry?"

Harry turned around with his hand on the door handle, "Yeah?"

"I was serious about your Christmas bonus," Tom said, those deep blue eyes meeting Harry's, "I have been able to grant the Potter family back the land and title that they lost when they rose against the traditionalists all of those years ago. You are once more a force to be reckoned with in the south of England. Perhaps, unlike previous Potters, you can rule harmoniously with your Malfoy neighbours?"

With a genuine smile, not a smirk or a shit-eating grin, Harry said, "Thank you, my lord. It is much appreciated."

As usual, Tom looked uncomfortable about being thanked so profusely and genuinely, so he just nodded and waved Harry off unceremoniously.

* TBC *