Chapter 7
Author's Note: I'm baaaaaacccckkkkk!
I'm not dead, promise.
The private study of Lord Black was exactly how Harry had expected it, with deep, rich colors and a block of glossy, dark wood. It gave the room a private, enriching feel that made the atmosphere seem more cozy yet distinguished. It was an excellent choice in decor on his part, Harry mused. It subconsciously gave the others a relaxing feel and people were more likely to accidentally let something slip when feeling at home and safe.
The witch stepped out of the way, moving to join Lady MacNair and Lady Montague who had seated themselves on one of the available settees. Harry dipped her head once in greeting again to Lord Malfoy who repeated the gesture before she sat down on one of the two-person seats. Lord Greengrass, Lord Nott, and Lord Black joined then not a few moments later. Lord Black chose to sit in one of the armchairs by Lord Malfoy, which objectively made sense considering the pact of alliance between the two Houses. Lord Greengrass chose to sit across from her on one of the other settees before Lord Nott sat down next to her rather than joining Lord Greengrass. His obvious placement garnered subtle blinks of surprise from the others before it was suitably ignored for the present moment.
Harry murmured a delicate "Thank you." when one of the Malfoy Elves, notable for the sack it was wearing with the Malfoy Crest appeared. The Peverell Lady controlled her immediate reaction of upset anger to merely a flicker of an eyelid at the sight before she focused on her tea. She had to start small, she had to remind herself that sudden or rapid change brought nothing but mulish attitudes and churlish behavior and she had not the patience to deal with either at the moment, feeling more likely to start cursing people if she wished to be combative.
The group conversed for several minutes with small talk, exchanging thoughts on the weather, the upcoming Quidditch tournament, and compliments to their host. In short order, it was Lord Greengrass who broke the conversational lull to immediately ask, "What was it about the motion that incited your attention?"
Harry took a moment to finish her sip of tea before lowering her cup to rest comfortably in her lap. "I found it curious that not only did someone attempt to fool the Wizengamot but not only that they wish to have the age of consent lowered to fourteen." She answered genially, face blank of any emotion even if she felt the sharp rage boiling inside of her.
Lady Montague sucked in a breath of air sharply and traded a guarded look with Lady MacNair. The age of consent had been raised to seventeen when one became an adult in the eyes of the Wizarding World after too many child brides were passing away in childbirth along with their unborn children. Within a few months of the law passing, the women stopped passing away and it became known as a sign from Mother Magic to respect the age of consent. To have someone be so blasphemous to actively try to lower it again, was horrendous and spoke ill of their attention. "I find it most curious indeed how Lord Alderton has been having luncheon meetings with Lord Tremelett as of late," Harry commented lightly, leaning forward to twirl her finger at the teapot to send it floating over to pour her another cup, ignoring the astonished looks she received regarding her non-verbal, wandless magic.
"How interesting." Lord Black's pinched expression grew severely more pinched. Harry took a moment to gaze at him before she remembered that he had two girls in the family near that age at Hogwarts, his own daughter Lucretia and his niece Walburga Black. Lord Black traded a glance with Lord Greengrass who Harry remembered also had a young daughter at Hogwarts.
The topic was changed by Lord Malfoy back to a safer view, the upcoming Ostara celebrations and Harry took a back seat in that conversation, allowing the others to continue it, adding a comment here or there. She knew they wouldn't bring up her own motion, not with the pressing thoughts that had been stirred up especially with the little tip she had dropped. Rather than performing her own brand of justice at the despicable man, she'd allow the others to do so for her. Once they independently confirmed her comment, which they all would, a few well-placed comments here or there, and the men would be ruined socially. Most likely an aunt or family member would take Alderton's daughter away from him. And if that didn't happen, Harry planned on rescuing the child herself.
Their meeting carried on for another hour, before they adjourned, sending well wishes to their host before departing to their own homes. The witch was more exhausted than she had initially anticipated from her long day. Between the meeting itself and the audacity of the disgusting men to spend over an hour listening to everyone talk while hiding their real intentions behind honeyed words and subtle meanings, she was ready to take a bath and detox the strong emotions she had experienced.
Harry was eager herself, once she walked through the manor to her own chambers to collapse on her bed. Perhaps she would simply take the bath in the morning, she sleepily thought. Her bed was extremely comfortable and she had spent good money on an amazing mattress out of pure spite because she simply could. She didn't have the energy to move, to begin heading towards the bathroom, instead she simply snapped her fingers to swap her current robes with a comfy set of pajamas before crawling under her blankets and falling sound asleep.
Lord Malfoy leaned back in his armchair, sipping delicately on his tumbler of whiskey. "You noticed it earlier, didn't you?" He asked, staring into the roaring fireplace as he went over the chain of events he had witnessed.
"Yes, and she never even realized she had done it. In fact, I don't remember even seeing her wand at any point during the day." Lord Black murmured back, hands folded in front of his face as he mused over the matter. "That speaks of an ease and use of doing such a matter that it is commonplace."
"How powerful is she?" Lord Malfoy pondered the situation.
"Powerful enough that I think we should pay respects to the House of Peverell. She did not attend Hogwarts. We would have heard of her beforehand."
"I think I remember hearing that she was tutored by the late Lord Peverell himself rather than attending a formal education." Lord Malfoy said.
Lord Black hummed lightly in agreement, "He was a Ritual Master if my memory serves me correctly. I believe there were rumors that he worked for the Unspeakables."
"I know they were dealing with trade with the eastern countries - quite a few of my contacts kept mentioning their name when discussing the renewals on our contracts on my last walk-through." Lord Malfoy commented, stroking his beard in thought.
"So, we have a royal Lady, with mysterious teachings, possible ties with the Ministry and the Unspeakables, confirmed ties with other countries, confirmed ties with Slytherin, one of the Founder's houses (and one might even say she controls the house now considering who her Heir is) who is an extremely powerful witch in her own right." Lord Black summed up the situation.
"Indeed."
"Perhaps, the Black and Malfoy families would do well building the bond between our Heirs and hers, do you not agree?" Lord Black said.
Lord Malfoy nodded in agreement, "Indeed. I will speak to Abraxas to encourage his acquaintanceship with the Peverell Heir." The duo stayed in the office speaking of important matters for several more hours before departing for the night.
Rising in the morning after being roused by the ever so patient Sipsy, who assisted her with gathering her outfit for the day and preparing a shower for her mistress, Harry had made her way down to the family dining room. She was joined not too much longer by Tom, who settled into the seat across from her at the small four-seater table located in the annexed part of the kitchen. She found that she genuinely enjoyed hearing the hustle and bustle of Hinbey and Homby cooking, even as the table was set by Tully, who ensured that each had what they wanted to drink for the day. For Harry, she was served a hot cuppa of wonderful tea and Tom was served a glass of milk. Harry made sure to greet Tom before he started in on the full English breakfast spread, settling herself for a piece of french toast and grapefruit, and opened the newspaper that had been delivered earlier only to freeze at the front-page story.
Breaking News: Belmont Family Massacre! Grindelwald Strikes Again!
Last night after midnight, eight Dark Wizards stormed into the Belmont Estate and murdered all fourteen people inside - three of whom were children with one attending Hogwarts. Aurors arrived on the scene to parts of the manor being inflamed with Fiendyre. It took five of our very best to subdue the wild magic before they were able to get inside safely. With anti-apparition wards and anti-flooing wards, the occupants inside were unable to escape and all fourteen perished tragically.
The Mark of Grindelwald was cast in the night sky above the manor. His ruthlessness shows no bounds in attacking an innocent family with children present. The Belmont family now brings his total of British wizards and witches' deaths to one hundred and twelve. The Aurors are asking for the public to always carry portkeys with them in the event of an emergency and to have escape routes planned with your families. If anyone has any tips regarding this attack, please visit the Auror's office to speak with an officer.
To learn more about the Belmont Family, turn to page 6.
To learn more about Grindelwald, turn to page 2.
Harry looked up from the newspaper as her mind went over the news article. Grindelwald was still present in this timeline, something that she had completely forgotten in wake of trying to prepare everything for Tom and wouldn't be stopped by Dumbledore until the old coot finally got the courage to face his former friend and lover and eventually defeat him. There would be more deaths, more destruction, more lives ruined well before then in England alone - let alone the other countries that would be ravaged by the dark wizard. Dumbledore certainly had taken his time before facing him, the coward.
The witch pondered the situation - if she interfered at all with him, it would have to be in a situation that led him to her - she had to have alibis and a reason for being where she was, as well as a reason for engaging with him, to begin with. She refused to allow Tom to be placed in a precarious position and erase the mind-numbing hours she had spent crafting their position in society just by being quick to jump into a situation to take care of one problem, it would only end up leading her to numerous other problems that she couldn't foresee. No, it was much better to take the wait-and-see approach for the moment until the advantages outweighed the negatives, she refused to allow all of her hard work to go to waste.
Though, if the current Dark Lord kept up the assault on the neutral pureblood families, Harry had a feeling that he would be targeting the Peverell family sooner, rather than later, especially as he wanted to find the other two items and the Peverell's were his best guess at finding them. Perhaps, her mind wandered for but a moment, perhaps it would be beneficial for her to lay a trap. The witch couldn't deny the thought as it floated around her mind as she finished going over the financials of the House. It never hurt to have backup plans and contingencies in place.
The finalized receipt of the team of curse breakers who had cleaned up and then the runemasters who purified the land that was going to become Sanctuary sat on her desk. She looked over the itemized list, taking note of how many cursed objects had been laying around before she placed the stamp of Peverell on it and moved it off to the side to be mailed to Gringotts when she finished with her correspondence. Now to go over some fifty-odd letters she received from the other Families regarding her proposal at the Wizengamot.
They could all roughly be sorted into three piles, the first was off-handed comments about her needing a strong male figure in her life and various misogynistic comments that she didn't deign an answer, choosing instead to toss them into her fireplace. The second group was curious about her plans for the future and asked for clarification for the motion she had presented. The third group was all Heads of Houses who provided invitations to tea in the upcoming days. The third stack of letters required her to gather out her social calendar to begin trying to fit in as many visits as she could once Tom headed back to school, she was quick to begin penning letters to the Lords and Ladies who invited her to a visit. She would be busy in the weeks to come, and she did not really have anyone to blame but herself, she thought morosely. Well, she could have easily blamed Death but he would only serve to aggravate more if she complained to him. No, it was much easier to simply suck it up and move on. But now was the time for planning, and that is exactly what she would do, she decided.
Their visit to Gringott's was relatively easy, all things considered. Ragnok was in his office when they arrived through the front doors later that day, and after walking to the first available teller and then being guided to his office, they settled in the visitor chairs with the Goblin and Lady making small talk and pleasantries before getting down to business.
"How has the testing been going?" She asked, glove-covered hands coming to rest demurely in her lap, looking for all of the worlds to see, as a patiently waiting Lady of nobility.
"Promising so far," Ragnok answered, shuffling a few folders of paperwork around until he pulled out the one meant for their hypothesis. "Seven of the children we have tested in the last few days have shown previous extended wizarding families though only one has directly been related to nobility enough to have a vault attached to their name. All of the wizarding families have been sent letters to contact us at their earliest convenience to go over the results. We should be ready to begin posting an article with our preliminary research in just a few short days."
"Wonderful, let me know when you are ready Ragnok, and I'll send you the article draft that Mr. Bletchy and myself have been working on, we will just need to send the updated information in it and then we can have our reporter, Ms. Wrinkle with the Daily Prophet and have her publish it for us under her name." Harry mused, looking over the parchment that Ragnok had handed over.
The results were promising and showed already that there was no such thing as a muggle-born, simply only those cast off into the muggle society. Magic couldn't spring from anywhere, Harry knew, it came from genetics and explained why inbreeding kept the magic out, and once new blood was introduced, it always produced stronger witches and wizards - simply look at Hermione or half-bloods with a pureblooded parent and a muggle-born - like herself or Tom, simply produced powerhouses. It was something Hermione had started suspecting and Harry had even given her access to the Black fortune to begin looking into it; Harry figured, why not start it earlier and make everything easier?
It would open defunct vaults, get more gold flowing into the stagnant society, hopefully allowing the magicals coined as 'muggle-borns more opportunities for growth, and once that was going, Harry planned on adding more clauses for magical beings like the goblins, centaurs, house-elves or any of the others. Though that would only come after she had built up a bigger standing and following in the political and social field. With that business concluded, Ragnok summoned an Adept Banker to escort them down to the vaults.
Harry had them stop at Tom's vault, and after the goblin opened the vault door, she allowed Tom to have a moment to observe the amount of wealth. She placed a hand on his shoulder, before beaming down at him, "This vault is your personal one, that your key that I gave you gives you access too. Every birthday and Christmas, I have it set up so it will deposit a certain amount into the vault for your usage. I also back-dated from the moment you were born to include all of the funds you missed in the vault. You will have a bi-monthly allowance of one hundred galleons deposited into the account as well, fifty from Peverell, fifty from Slytherin. You will be allowed to withdraw that one hundred amount every two months as well, so plan accordingly. It's an excessive amount, I admit but one that a family of our stature would be giving out to every child that calls itself a Peverell."
"What am I supposed to do with this?" He asked, gazing at the mound of coins.
"Well, you neither need to buy clothing or school items, I am happy to purchase and send them to you as needed. So really, the only things you will need to purchase will be items for Nagini, any little sweets during Hogsmeade trips, bribes, etc." She explained.
Tom whipped his head over to her incredulously, ignoring the snickering Goblin next to him. "Harry!" He cried out scandalously, looking completely affronted at her insinuation.
Harry merely raised an eyebrow at him, "Tell me honestly that you won't be using some of the money for that."
He merely turned his head, ignoring her and proving her right as he made his way in to begin withdrawing some gold. Harry chuckled behind him, amused by his attempts to appear a morally upstanding citizen. The duo soon left the bank, walking down the marble steps with Tom escorting her to head further into the alley; Harry was eager to glance around, noting that the crowds had begun growing as more people headed out to lunch or began their shopping trips as the day thawed.
"How does la Tulipe de Rubis sound for lunch?" she asked.
Tom merely nodded leading the way down one of the main walkways to Crescent Alley, a part of the shopping district that catered specifically to the nobility and the wealthy. Harry in her past life had never even known that there had been more alleys besides Diagon and Knockturn. Crescent had the upper crust shopping, Starfall Avenue was primarily a middle-class residential alley, Cypress Row was the poorest district, featuring the lower-income families and one could only get there by walking through Knockturn or heading through Starfall - depending on how safe one felt walking through Knockturn. Providence Lane had all of the Government buildings located on it, including the public library, the Ministry of Magic's official entrance, St. Mungo's as well as various other businesses that packed the street.
Crescent Alley held some of the most elegant restaurants and shops - and most of the restaurants on the alley didn't even have prices listed on their menus. La Tulipe de Rubis was a wonderfully quaint restaurant, Harry decided as the doors opened for them as they approached. A host was standing at the welcoming podium and greeted them promptly before standing up straighter when Harry gave the last name. He was quick to escort them to an available table - and Harry noted that they only had what seemed like twenty tables in total for the whole restaurant, although, she mused, it certainly gave them an appeal of "limited, high quality" that she supposed drew others to it.
They were seated at a nice little two-person table, and Harry was quick to order a glass of white wine with her meal before ordering a glass of red for Tom. While she didn't condone underage drinking, the nobility had different rules and it was certainly expected of them to be able to drink wine and have "established" taste buds. Personally, she thought it was just an excuse but societal obligations had to be observed.
They sat quietly, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere before their waiter appeared at their side to take their order. "Would you care to hear the specials for today?"
"Yes, please." Harry smiled up at the waiter.
"We have two specials, today madam, the first is a sauteed fillet of Dorade Royale, served with Charlotte potatoes flavored with lemon zest, and our second special today is a roast belly of pork with crackling, potato and black pudding dauphinoise, pomme purée, grilled asparagus, and a red wine reduction."
Tom glanced over the menu they had been offered by the host before ordering, "I would like an order of the Lobster with cucumber, mint & ginger rice paper wraps with sweet chili sauce."
"Of course, sir." The waiter nodded his head, writing it down on his notepad.
"I'd like the dorade royale special, please." Harry decided.
"I will go place your orders now, madam, sir." The waiter dipped his head before stepping away to head to the kitchen.
Harry sipped her wine, enjoying the time the duo were spending together. "I have started a new venture that I think may catch your interest," Harry said, a secretively smile growing on her face as she easily captured his wandering attention.
"Oh?" He asked, taking a sip of his wine and Harry watched with amusement as his eyelids fluttered and mouth tightened in mild disgust before he moved past it.
"I am in the process of opening up a Sanctuary." She explained quietly.
"Sanctuary?" He asked, noting the tone that it was something serious.
"The Sanctuary is a project that I have been working on," she began, idly twirling around her wine glass. "It will be a haven, free from influence, free from corruption, bound by Magic's oath - a safe place for those who need it: children, animals, even refugees. Anyone who seeks Sanctuary will find it within its walls."
"What...what does that mean?" He asked, eyebrows furrowing together in confusion.
"Anyone who calls themself a part of magic will have somewhere safe to go: whether they fear persecution, whether it's because they are an orphan or abandoned, abused and removed for their safety or even neglected. The Sanctuary will protect them from everything - those who wish to do them harm, those who seek them for goals outside of their wellbeing; the Sanctuary will become consecrated grounds, and none who wish harm may enter. The Peverell's will provide their personal protection to the land, to the runes; I won't have children harmed anymore, placed somewhere where they are feared, starved, neglected, abused. No," she shook her head at the memories of the Dursley's, "no more. We will have a safe place for them, where they will have clothes that fit them, warm food for their bellies, toys and games to play with and never the fear of an adult harming them."
Tom was quiet for a minute, staring at her with eyes too jaded, too used to being hurt and disappointed to have actual hope, "Did you start this because of me?"
And for a moment, Harry sympathized with the boy. She had longed for years, begged under every shooting star, every birthday wish she would make at midnight in the dark of her cupboard, every fallen eyelash, every dandelion. She had wished for someone to save her, to rescue her; she had thought maybe Hagrid, sweet, lovable Hagrid, would be her hairy knight in shining armor but instead, she had been thrown into a world that only brought more fear, more pain, more misunderstandings. She may have been granted magic and a few close friends, but sometimes the rewards hadn't outweighed the risks and consequences.
"No," she denied, glancing away from her to settle her gaze on her plate, "I did it for us. So no other child will feel what we did, so they won't know the suffering we had to endure. I have the power to make it happen, so why shouldn't I?"
His reply was delayed as the waiter arrived with their food, refilled their glasses, and stepped away without a word.
"Will you tell me about it, someday?" He finally asked, quietly.
"One day I will." She promised, both of them quiet in their reflections of what had been shared. They ate for a few minutes in silence; Harry thinking about her plans with the Sanctuary and Tom trying to imagine what could have caused all of those scars on her body, what similarities did they share in the mistreatment they had received. "I will be getting Charlotte and her parents moved into one of the little cottages on the property closer to the town so they will be able to find work but she will still be safe on our land."
"How soon will they be moving in?" He asked.
Harry hummed under her breath, "I would rather it be sooner rather than later. I want to get them to safety away from London before something happens."
"Ah," he said, finishing up his meal with exquisite manners that made her glad she had arranged for etiquette lessons before he left for Hogwarts. She would have them resume come to the summertime when there was more time for her to work with him. In the meantime, she made a mental note to herself to hire Mrs. Teague to make a new contract for her to begin giving lessons to Charlotte. She would also need to make a new timetable for the young lady. Mrs. Teague was phenomenal as a tutor for societal needs and obligations on the magical aspect, but perhaps she would hire a muggle tutor as well, to have met with her in the cottage instead of the manor. It would be good to schedule those lessons perhaps two days a week, to allow her a chance to learn everything her parents wish her to, and two days dedicated to magical studies and one to etiquette. Charlotte would be busy, but she would also be granted numerous breaks throughout the day, snacks, activities, and hobbies that she would be able to pursue.
Harry was quick to sign the prepared check, pressing her Gringott's key on the paper so they could withdraw from it before they made their way back home to begin preparing for Tom leaving back to Hogwarts in the next few days but also the arrival of the new ward, which between getting the young girl set up and more planning with the Sanctuary, she would hopefully remain busy until summertime.
It was on the night before Tom left for Hogwarts that Harry summoned Tom to her study, and instead of sitting behind her desk, she sat on the divan and motioned him to take the seat across from her. She wanted his full attention on her, sighing softly as she gazed at the young man with eyes far too old for her body.
"This will be your last lesson during this break, and one that I want you to remember keenly on while at school, this lesson is probably the most important one you will learn as my Ward. This is a conversation about the Peverell family magics. To clarify, I will start by explaining something else which will lead to our topic." She paused, "The Slytherin family magic is one I have no access to, nor will you until next year on your seventeenth birthday when you truly become Lord Slytherin. At this time, I cannot comment on the nature of the Slytherin Family Magic as that is something I have no prior knowledge of, nor do I wish to guess.
"Every family line, from the Blacks, known for their battle magic to the Ollivander's with their touch on wand magic to even our family, all have access to magic that is strictly blood-related. Only a blood-related family member will be taught the family magic, have access to it, and be allowed to harness it. The Peverell's were once known for their own, as we specialized in necromancy. We were the leading family who bathed in it, taught it, consumed by it. It is why the Peverell often only has an heir and no more. Our magics make it difficult to have more than one child to carry the line; It is also why we are most known for adopting stray children to broaden our family tree and to ensure our knowledge is not forgotten."
She straightened in her seat, face focusing intently on him for a moment to gauge his attention before she continued after seeing him watching her raptly, "The Peverell's don't just specialize in necromancy, we were born from death magic. Long before there was light or dark magic, there was life and death magic. Peverell's have been molded by it, crafted from it, we thrive with it. It is where our family began and where we will end. No matter who we are, a Peverell stands besides Death, as a companion, a friend. No other family walks hand in hand with Death and greets it like an old friend, because to us, that is what it is. Our family has always borne the strain of what it means to be marked by Death; it is no light task, no easy shouldered burden. We live, marked by Death so that the balance is held. The patron of our family is none other than Death itself."
Dramatic to a core - something Harry had long since grown used to - a sudden, sharp wind blew through the air, causing all of the candles to flicker and in the space of a second, Death was seated next to her incorporeal form. Tom flung himself back in the seat, face pale white with shock and shivering lightly as frost began building up on the walls and their breath became visible as Death removed all warmth from the room. Harry huffed lightly in answer at the sudden appearance, "You did not have to be so dramatic, Death. And do remove the theatrics, I don't want him getting sick, especially before he heads back to school."
For once not assuming human form, but instead in the age-old adaption of a thick, ratty cloak with a hood, the entity merely titled the hood shortly to the side before replying, "When have I ever done what was expected, my dear one?" Even as they spoke, Death waved their boney hand and the room returned back to normal and the room warmed back up in moments.
Harry hummed lightly in response, turning to face Tom again. "Death is our patron because as a Peverell we see the truth of life as it is. Cruel and harsh and painful. Death is the only constant that is fair and kind. Life will leave you crying and heartbroken but Death, Death welcomes all with open arms whether you be a rich man or a poor man, it cares not. That is the one constant you can trust in this world. When your time comes, and it will just as it will for every other creature and being on this planet, Death will greet you like a friend." Harry explained. "Do not fear Death, fear what could come during Life, but never Death."
"My child speaks not but the truth, Ward of my One." Death remarked.
"I...I...I…" Tom stuttered, eyes wide with fright.
Harry laid a gentle hand on his arm, gathering his attention away from the entity and towards herself. "It is alright to be afraid-"
"I'm not afraid!" He cried out, jerking his arm away from her, eyes still wide with fright and insulted teenage pride.
Harry gave him a wan smile in response, "Tom, fear is a natural response. It's one ingrained in your instincts, it's normal to have it, expected even."
"Well, why aren't you afraid?" He asked, eyes drawing together in confusion.
The question had her pausing before she glanced over at the silent entity, who merely gestured for her to explain. The witch licked her lips absently before she glanced over at the boy, "When I was eighteen months old, I watched my mother get murdered in front of me and the man attempt to kill me too. Death came for me that night - but something," she paused on how to describe what happened, "something happened that left a mark on me," she gingerly touched the scar on her head, even faded as it was and drawing Tom's rapt attention to it, "it carved a place in my soul that left an emptiness."
"Who could do that?" Tom asked, hands clenched into fists that were so tight, his knuckles were white with rage. "Who would dare harm the Peverell's?"
"It doesn't matter anymore who that person was Tom," Harry began only to be cut off again by the impatient young man.
"It does matter! What if they come back? What's stopping them from hurting you again?" He demanded and Harry suddenly realized that his last question wasn't quite what he wanted to ask - he was more terrified of the knowledge that someone had hurt her - even as powerful as she was - and that they could harm him.
Harry felt empathy towards him - he had escaped from the cold touches from the orphanage but it hadn't stopped the fear ingrained in him for his survival. "He can't hurt anyone ever again Tom."
"But how do you know that?" He said.
"Because I killed him, and I made sure he could never walk this Earth again." She explained, face shuttering close at the admission.
Tom stared at her in shock, "What?"
Harry merely smiled dispassionately, fake otherwise blank uncharacteristically in a way that had him flinching away from her in surprise. "Neither could live while the other survived; I killed him so that not only I could live, but so could everyone else. I made that choice, Tom; so no, you will never have to worry about him hurting you, I made sure of it." In more ways than one, she thought privately.
He looked away from her, eyes tight as he thought over all of the information she had given him.
Harry sighed softly, taking a moment to stand up and gently rest her hand on his shoulder in comfort, "I'll leave you to your thoughts. I merely wished for you to know of the Family Magics before you go back to Hogwarts. If you need anything or want me, just let Sipsy know." She paused when he didn't say anything else and sighed before laying a gentle kiss to the top of his head, "Good night Tom." She waved her hand, and Death disappeared back into the aether before she vacated the room, leaving the young boy to his thoughts.
Departing from the Winter Holidays back to Hogwarts, Tom was for once almost reluctant to return to the school, the recent informational dump aside; which he wouldn't lie, it had completely blindsided him - from the family's patron to the fact that she had killed someone, to the unwavering affection she gave him without expecting anything back. He finally had a home he could call his own, where he was accepted wholeheartedly and welcomed with open arms. He held no fear of being harmed by another on the property, and would most likely only be harmed by his own disregard for his safety than anything else. He had always felt a small grudge of hatred towards his fellow classmates who were doted on by their parents at the train station.
Now, however, standing at the platform, waiting to board the train and watching Hariel flutter around him, her wands - that was another surprise, she had two wands but used neither - in her holsters as she floated their bags at their sides, nervous behavior prominent as she helped straighten his uniform - that he was proud to note was already crisp and perfect, as if he would allow himself to be seen by others as anything less than perfect - once they had walked through the entranceway and going over everything he could have possibly forgotten at the house, he couldn't help the flash of contentment that settled through him.
She was obviously reluctant to send him to school short of anything and acted like any doting parent he had seen and envied secretly as a child. "Are you sure you have everything? If you forgot anything at all, I will have Dipsy bring it to you later tonight. Remember, if you need anything at all, Dipsy will be able to attend to you even while at Hogwarts and I'm only a letter or floocall away." She rushed to explain, her eyes darting around quickly before she cast a quick privacy shield around them. "You have your emergency portkey, correct?" At his nod and subtle touch for the ring on his right hand, she nodded once in relief. "If you are ever attacked or in danger, defend yourself. I will deal with any repercussions. Your health is the priority over everything else, Tom, and if your Prefect duties are too much, or your tutoring or whatever else, don't forget to inform your Head of House or let me know. Next year will be a long one for you and it will be crazy busy with how much cramming and studying you will have to do, okay? Stay safe and I will see you for the Imbolc week."
"Of course, Harry, I'll write you a letter in a few days once I settle back in," Tom said.
"Thank you," she murmured, leaning forward to place a kiss on his forehead and Tom felt the tingle of magic wash over him. He could feel the comforting weight of a protection spell being cast over him, radiating from the spot that she had kissed. "Stay safe."
The witch dropped the privacy spell just in time for Tom to catch sight of the Black family arriving in style with Lucretia, Walburga, Orion, and Alphard all arriving together with their prospective parents. They were accompanied by the many cousins they had - Montgomery Longbottom, a seventh-year Gryffindor, and Maida Longbottom, his younger sister who was a fourth-year Ravenclaw. The Crouch Siblings: Cynthia a sixth year Ravenclaw, Chilton a fifth year Slytherin and Corliss a third year Ravenclaw. Tom knew that there were several other families that could be considered cousins, like the Weasley's or the Crabbe's but they weren't as close as the Longbottom's and Crouch's.
Fleamont Potter, son of Charles Potter Dorea Potter nee Black, was another cousin though one that did not spend a lot of time with the main Black family beyond the bare minimum attendance to the family get-togethers. Tom was aware that Orion, as Black Heir, was frustrated by the distance the cousins had begun to show. Not that Fleamont had any control over his parents not visiting as much as the child was only four years old. The McMillian's, being Orion's maternal family, visited occasionally but never on Black property. Instead, Orion and Lucretia would typically visit during the summer months with the McMillian's and Tom had always made sure to head one of his other follower's homes to stay when they went to visit.
Tom greeted the Black siblings as they all entered the train and immediately headed towards their compartment, located near the middle of the locomotive. The several minutes it took to arrange who would be sitting where gave Tom enough time to settle in his seat against the window where he glanced out the window as the train lurched forward to begin moving before Tom sent a quick wave to a tearful Harry who he noticed continued waving until he was out of view.
Greetings were exchanged throughout the group as Tom felt smug about noticing that in the current compartment Levi Lestrange, Eli Mulciber, Alfred Avery, Abraxas Malfoy, and Orion Black settled into their customary seats. In the compartment across from theirs, Tom knew that the ladies of his following: Druella Rosier, Walburga Black, Lucretia Black, Cynthia Crouch, Rosalyn Greengrass, and Rhonda Dunbar were all getting settled themselves.
"Heir Peverell," the greeting elicited a small flash of smugness to radiate through his body before Tom quickly stamped hard on that emotion. He refused to allow anyone to see something they may later take advantage of, he had learned that lesson the difficult way, back in the first month of his first year. "May I offer the first warm welcoming into society?" Heir Orion Black remarked, giving a short head bow in consideration of Tom's new place above his own in the bloodline hierarchy. While Tom had unofficially been named King of Slytherin, had his own court in fact, he couldn't officially receive the title due to the lack of the blood requirement. Now though, to officially be able to claim Heir of Slytherin and Heir of Peverell, he was so far beyond everyone else's limits, it hardly was even funny.
The Hierarchy was an interesting one, originally, Orion Black had been the unofficial King, with Abraxas his second due to only being a somewhat recent addition to England - the Malfoy's had officially immigrated from France only three hundred years before and were still considered "newer" purebloods even if their bloodline was as old as the Black's. Tom had been in an awkward position, as third - as while previously his background had been circumspect, he had the power and knowledge but his bloodline had been lacking. From there, it had actually been Walburga and Lucretia Black, followed by Levi Lestrange and Alfred Avery. Located firmly in the middle were Cynthia Crouch, Eli Mulciber, Rosalyn Greengrass, and Rhonda Dunbar. At the bottom of the hierarchy were the little misfits of Slytherin in his year: Elladora Gamp, Margot Droope, Franklin Compton, and Chi Wray.
Technically, Orion was only a third-year - but he held more sway than any of the others and Abraxas and Lucretia were a year above - but those in power, held it firmly by blood right. Cygnus Black was another little leech, desperate for power and clinging with determination to his cousin and Tom, simpering up to him in hopes that Tom would take him under his fold. Slytherin's Heir almost loathed how easily he gave up his pride to latch onto someone stronger than him.
The power he wielded now had not been seen since the Founder's times, when Merlin and Morgana still walked these lands. He couldn't easily shun any student who had wronged him, anyone, he decided deserved the punishment. He could ruin someone by declaring them persona non grata and they would suffer for the rest of their life in British Society. They would never be able to get a well-paying job, forever shunned by the upper Crest society.
Though, he did remember one of the lessons that his new guardian had imparted on him. It had been one of the few times he could recall her ever being serious, without a hint of humor on her face.
He had known from the moment she had called him into her study, her desk cleared of the parchment work and something dark in her eyes that forebode that this lesson was one he needed to take to heart. The fact that her customary smile was wiped clean from her face had him straightening up in notice on his chair, gazing at her with seriousness back.
"With your new introduction into society as my Heir and as Heir of Slytherin, every action, every inaction, every word spoken will be dissected and studied. Even your closest confidants can accidentally give something away about you without realizing they have done so. Everything you say or do from this moment on will have lasting consequences. The public eye is a fickle thing, one wrong move could vastly change their perspective on you.
"Right now, we are considered extremely viewed in the positive due to my recent contributions to society and overall, my schmoozing with the peerage. However, one wrong action, one accidental snub, we could be viewed as trash, as lesser than everyone else. This is why your etiquette lessons with Mrs. Teague are so exceptionally important. While she is not an Heiress to her family, she still is a member of the elite, with her experience growing up in our society, mingling and attending the various celebrations, events, and happenings, she is one of the best tutors I could find very little fault for in teaching you not only how to survive your interactions with the others, but also how to use them to your advantage." The witch paused, heaviness drooping across her face.
"The very last thing I want is more struggles being thrown your way that I could have prevented by providing you with the knowledge needed. No one deserves to be left scrambling for the barest hints of what you need to survive." A pained look flashed across her face as her eyes glazed over momentarily. Tom was struck by the thought that she was speaking from experience, that someone, knowingly, had led her astray and had probably betrayed the trust she had given. His mouth tightened at the thought.
She was a witch of considerable skill and talent, though there were times that she would look at something and seemingly look lost for a moment as if she hadn't the faintest idea about it, something common like nursery rhymes or bedtime stories. He had noticed it with several of the children's stories she had bought for their library or the various toys and games she had bought to decorate their home for him to occupy his time. She had stared at them as if she had never been able to play them before, had never been able to appreciate them, and had always needed to look at the directions to understand them when they had played with several of them together. Games that even he at the orphanage had been able to play, games he learned from playing with them from the Heir's late at night in the dorms.
A sick feeling began to spread in his body and made his stomach clench in an unfamiliar way. She hadn't ever mentioned her parents nor any family or friends by name, though she would often start a sentence as if to mention a memory only to allow the sentence to die and for her to change the topic. But he recognized the scars she hid under her robes, he recognized the fact that witches did not typically wear gloves at home, preserving modesty when hosting guests aside, had noticed the scarred flesh upon the back of her hand, and in one accidental moment, when they had gone swimming together and her bathing suit, while fully covering her body, had been skin tight and he had recognized the raised skin of lashes upon her back. Whether it had been her Lord Father, or a mentor, or someone else she trusted, they had hurt her significantly so, had hurt her in a way she was so desperately trying to prevent from happening to him. It was at that moment, he felt a kinship with the young woman who was doing everything in her power to give him a proper place to stand where no one could harm him anymore.
And it was in that moment, that Tom decided that he would give back to her - he would give her the chance to experience all of the things in a family that others would take for granted. She was offering him the world - he knew enough to understand that from the properties, knowledge, and wealth she so readily gave him access to while asking for so little back. If she was offering him the world, then he would become her world. He would be as steady as a rock, he wouldn't let the world destroy the little bit of happiness that was being built around him.
He tuned back into what she was saying. "One of the many ways I had found that the line is easier to tread is the proverb of 'You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.' If you show nothing but overt politeness and being exceptionally well-mannered, not only will more people be likely to not turn their backs on you, but help you more if you need something from them. Not only so, but when something happens, whether unexpected or negative, not only will blame not be immediately cast upon you, but you will be able to manipulate the situations around you. Put yourself in a position where the rest of those at school will find themselves indebted to you, where they will look up to you.
"You have several more months until the end of your sixth year, make your statement, begin laying down the groundwork now. Your fellow classmates will become the next Aurors, the next Healers, and politicians and everyday folk that keeps society running. You never know when someone, who may seem insignificant or annoying now, may one day be the key you need for your own personal plans." She stopped to take a sip of her tea that rested on her desk, gathering her thoughts. "Start by looking for those cast-off to the side, or bullied by the others. When someone is neglected or ignored, shunted by society for not fitting in completely, they look for the first offering of hope, of acceptance, and are easily molded to whatever suits their needs. Offer to tutor, to envelope them into your circle, offer them friendship and companionship, acceptance and trust. They will do anything for you.
"Everyone has a purpose, everyone has a chance to make something of themselves. However, most need that extra push to accomplish it and they will forever remember who it was who offered that hand, that advice, that guidance. Be the one to offer it, before someone else does and you can collect a great number of witches and wizards who may not politically be the first choice but socially, they can come in handy. You never know when someone will end up becoming the Head of the Auror's or a clerk in the Records or even a teacher. Look at each person's strengths, look at what ambition they have, see what dreams or aspirations for the future and never discriminate against someone based on age, or gender, or blood."
Her words had struck a chord with him and one of the first things he had done, once they had arrived back at school, after the sorting and feast, was to schedule a meeting with Slughorn. The Slytherin's had a unique advantage compared to the other Houses, in that their Head was available by appointment, which was easy to request regardless of whether Slughorn was in the office or out doing rounds - by having a little appointment request box atop of one of the main fireplaces in the common room. One only needed to take one of the sample notes, mark whether it was an emergency or general request, mark a specific date, and whether it was a request for an appointment, a note, direct message, or whatever it happened to be that the student needed and Slughorn would schedule an appointment and deliver a confirmation note with a time on that date if the schedule worked. It was confidential and timely, which was a great boon. Other than someone witnessing him delivering a note into the box, no one would ever be able to find out why and the confirmation notes were delivered once one was alone. It saved him time from trying to track down the social man and instead, allowed him to be more productive and manage his time better.
Slughorn was a man well-connected, one who even boasted about it to whoever would listen to him. Tom knew that he could easily twist him to his advantage, the man already knew that he would go far. He was going to be a Lord, a Lord of two Houses at that. One old and distinguished and the other, even older and royal. He no longer would have to scrape and grasp to try and get the littlest amount of change, instead, the world had opened up to him. He could do anything he wanted now. Perhaps, come summertime, he could even have Harry start showing him the way around politics, start getting him ready for when he was able to take the position on. Perhaps, perhaps he ought to think about being a politician as a career, maybe even Minister for Magic; after all, nothing could get in his way now, right?
The second item on his agenda was to call his followers to a meeting. The young man's eyes swept across the common room, immediately landing on Abraxas Malfoy who paused mid-conversation with Briar Goldfinch, one of Malfoy's roommates and underlings, to glance over at him when Tom didn't immediately move away from where he stood at the fireplace. The sixth-year merely smiled tightly in response, casting a meaningful look towards the study room that he had claimed last year, once he had accidentally stumbled upon the doorway while speaking parseltongue. It had become his sanctuary and his meeting place with his followers. He could pull upwards in parseltongue to protect their secrets and hide them from view. It was effective and having it in the common room meant that they never had to worry about trying to make it back after curfew on the few times their meetings ran late into the night.
Malfoy nodded once, sharply before continuing the conversation with Goldfinch who barely batted an eye at the pause in their conversation. Goldfinch knew to keep his mouth shut; he had witnessed the punishment that Trouch, one of their previous roommates had received for talking too loudly and mentioning something that had been none of his business.
But now, now he had to plan, and it would be best to get the opinions of his inner circle, his confidants, to explain everything that had been happening, everything that was changing, and perhaps the new direction the Knights of Walpurgis would be heading.
Author's Note: Life has been rough lately, so I'm sorry for how long it's been since the last update. I promise, this story won't be abandoned, just merely delayed while I try to work on each chapter when I can, while I can. Along with the about 20 other unpublished one-shots and two-shots I've been writing. *sigh* My muse teases me with things other than this.
For a more detailed reason why I've been not updating, I kinda mentioned it in my author's note for I Hold the Sky.
Regardless, I hope this was worth the wait? My muse was mean and I ended up writing the final chapter already, even if we are still like leagues away from it, and it's surpassed everything word count-wise than I had originally anticipated so I promise, pinky swear even, this won't be forgotten.