"Did you know," Snape began, "that they was no active recognition between the em-oh-em and the Prime Minister until after the end of the World War Two?"
"I did not know that," Harry said tonelessly. Snape never minded because he was often prone to talking about just about anything, for hours at a time. He wasn't just a nerd, he was a nerd who liked people to know it.
"After the reintroduction of casting with the Wizengamot in 1947 after the Salzburg Siege, the Conservatives went behind the Traditionalist factions' backs and broke the Statute. Literally rewriting the fabric of our society. Since then the Traditionalists haven't gained a decent foothold."
"Fascinating." Snape sat up from his lounge on the chaise.
"Yes, it is, Potter. The build of our society is so fragile. All it takes is a slight shift and even the ever over-managing Confederation can't intervene much. Last time they did was to induct Dumbledore."
"The Wizengamot?" Harry squinted at Snape, who was getting more and more worked up.
"No! The International Confederation. Idiot. They look out for the best and brightest, and how to cull them..."
"Hogwash, Snape," came the voice of Killian, a boy in their year. "That's just a conspiracy theory. The Confederation just helps with international relations among our societies. They haven't got to get involved much because we generally mind our own business." A girl in an opposing chaise tuned in.
"It's not a theory, Kil,- why do you think they invited in Dumbledore? He took down Grindelwald in the battle of Kitzbühel, which was of course totally epic, but they saw what he was capable of... right under their noses... if he hadn't accepted they would've had to silence him, for sure."
"You sound loony," Killian argued. "What, like murder him or lock him up like Grindelwald?"
"You bet," she said in all seriousness.
Now while a secret society that operated on subduing talented witches and wizards was of interest, Harry was a little preoccupied. His mind was, quite literally, elsewhere. Or not entirely itself? Harry was not alone in his thoughts.
Horcruxes.
There was much that Harry didn't know- and that could apply to the International Confederation or the Traditionalists versus the Conservatives, as well as it could Horcruxes. He was supposed to be performing an arrest in France with his best friend of seven years, but instead he was in 1974 and in his fourth year again and he didn't know why. Never mind the Horcrux, what was time? What was his life? If this Lily Evans and James Potter never got together would he cease to exist in this time as well? Or was this a different place than the world he had left?
But back to the Horcrux, very much present in his mind, prone to cropping up in the night or during strange surges of consciousness during the day. It reminded Harry somewhat of a sleepy cat stretching about and coming to wakefulness slowly, as he felt the Horcrux shift about during the waking hours. Unfortunately, that also seemed to happen more frequently.
How does he subtly investigate Horcruxes? Were there such materials in Hogwarts anymore, or Hogsmeade?
Something shifted in his head, a tickling, like a cat yawning. He shook his head.
"What, you disagree?" That girl was addressing him. Harry lifted his eyebrows and turned to her.
"Er, sorry, blanked out for a moment- "
"Just afraid to disagree?"
"I really just was, ehm, preoccupied." She shook her bangles and turned back to Killian who was tapping his foot with restrained energy, arms crossed and leaned up against the desk behind him.
"If the posebne čarobnjačke snage hadn't intervened it would've been a complete bust." She snorted and rolled her eyes.
"Oh look at me, I'm Killian Alves and I can pronounce foreign terms- just say special forces."
"Don't snort like a pig, then."
Harry sunk back down in his chair, feeling displaced as ever, not seeing Snape having fallen quiet as well, watching him.
Bellatrix looked over the slim book in her hand to stare questioningly at Tom's mirror, which was propped up against the wall beside her. "Do you consider yourself evil?" She asked daringly.
Tom did that fascinating eyebrow thing he always did when Bella irked him. "There is no good and evil -"
"-only power and those too weak to seek it. I know, I know. But do you feel like a bad person? Ever?" She was dancing a silly little line, but morality had always been a funny little topic for her, and confusing too.
"It has never occurred to me to think of myself as such."
"Do you... consider yourself amoral then?"
"That may be...an accurate description," Tom conceded.
"How perfect," she mused.
"There is something very, very wrong with your head, dear."
"Perhaps, it's you."
"No, I don't think I have anything to do with this particular problem."
Bellatrix laughed at that, oblivious to the evaluating stare Tom was boring into her.
"Have you been continuing with your studies?"
Bella puffed up her cheeks. "I've been most bored lately of it all."
"That's no excuse to cultivate laziness."
She rolled her eyes, but with care to watch his reaction, as minuscule as it usually was. "I've been reading the mathematics books you borrowed me, Master, but I've already finished all the new potions compendia."
"And the others?"
Bellatrix made a sour face, lip curling up. "I read the history books and the astronomy one. I haven't looked at the other ones yet. I don't even see why I have to bother with this. Besides the compendiums, it's all rather elementary."
Tom scowled back at her, much more imposing. "You will continue studying science, mathematics, Latin, and history to develop a well-rounded education. Hogwarts has always lacked in that."
"Tom," she wheedled. "That's so unfair."
"Do you believe a Dark Lord cares about what's necessarily fair, Bella. Do many?"
"Of course you don't and you should not waste your time with it." She sighed. "It's only... science and maths, I get. Latin too. But since when does our Lord Voldemort give a damn about muggle history?"
"Language," he hissed and she felt it was little to do with the swear. "In answer to your question, muggle history is, unfortunately, a necessary evil for young minds such as yourself. Too many witches and wizards are woefully uninformed of the events of the muggle world, and as a result are oblivious to the fact that despite being inferior creatures, muggles are dangerous."
Bella's eyebrows rose. "Dangerous, Tom? Those silly, little muggles..." she said skeptically.
"Yes, Bella, dangerous. There are billions of them. Quite literally. That alone is cause for worry. And they are not without their weapons. I still remember when the papers proclaimed the destruction of two Japanese port cities in 1945. Splitting the atom – muggles managed that, 50 years ago. Which is why they should be disposed of before they become even more clever."
"They're not... vermin. Surely it's not... so easy." Bella felt uneasy.
"Perhaps not, but they are mere animals nonetheless."
"So are we," she proclaimed.
"That is where you are wrong, dear Bella- those of us with magic have risen to a new level of being; it is we, not the muggles, who are the true future of humanity. My cause is well founded. Muggles are muggles, no matter the colour of their skin or the place of birth of their ancestors. They use petty disputes and I use logic to crown wizardkind."
Bellatrix didn't quite feel like she following the undertone to this conversation and Tom, as always, could see it.
"Now, while I can think of nothing more rousing than discussing politics and morality with a child -"
Bella scrunched up her nose. "That was a veiled insult, wasn't it?"
"Insult, not veiled. That aside, we must have a serious discussion."
"Isn't that what we were just doing?"
"That was my indulging for your need of small talk, but now we must turn to more urgent affairs."
"I feel like you discount me sometimes, Tom." She tsk'd and smiled all the same, and sat with a hand under her chin, gazing at him. He really was quite handsome, in a very Bryonic sort of look. What was it exactly that drew her in so to her brilliant teacher? She was so lucky to have found such a talented wizard, willing to induct her.
"Stop being facetious. Your family. This is something that must be discussed."
"Ah..."
"They cannot, under any circumstances, know about me."
Bella blinked in surprise again. "Why?"
"Because they will do anything necessary to separate me from you."
"Come now, you have made a name for yourself in the past few years. More than whispers. Tom, I'm sure they'd be more understanding than that."
"There's nothing to understand, Bella. Lord Voldemort is one of the the most powerful wizard to walk the earth, and shift will follow around myself. They see themselves as perfectly justified in using any means necessary to avoid such controversy."
"But you're not doing any... shifting... now, are you?"
"And that is the current topic up for discussion, Bella."
"How so?"
"You fascinate me," he said shortly. "Our future, and my future. I see it in you." That was a weighted statement. She needed a moment to digest, and thought of all the tales he'd spun her in the past that seemed so real right then.
"Thank you, my Lord. I am thankful." She tacked that title on with a grand smile in reward. It was not happy, it was content, it was expectant, and it was still thrilling to see on him.
"As you should be," he said while tilting his head invitingly in the glass.
And she was - this was Tom's way of telling her that he cared for her, after all. "So what's the new... plan?"
"It will be revealed in time." She made a pout she knew many found to be wildly endearing. For some reason, she liked doing it around Tom the most. Likely because he knew it was just for fun. He knew it wasn't real.
"Right now, we must focus on ensuring our cause's survival."
"Alright... and how do we do that?"
"Oh grand, it's soups again. Why is it soups again? Third time this week."
"You don't like soup," Snape commented rather pointlessly. "Don't eat it."
"Eat it?" Harry complained. "I think you mean drink it. Don't drink it." It was indeed the third time that the main spread for lunch consisted of a wide array of soups, from broccoli cheddar to chicken noodle broth. "Oh whatever, really, someone slide me the won ton soup down there- yeah the one with the little dumplings- yes, right, thanks."
"You could try the Shrivelfig," Snape offered.
"I'd really rather die," Harry said plainly. "But I appreciate it, Snape, I do." He shrugged and slurped at the bright purple soup that steamed in a suspiciously curly fashion. It looked more like a potion than anything else, but to each their own.
Too much oil, the cat in Harry's head hissed. We don't like.
'We', nothing, Harry thought through a mouthful of minced meat. But suddenly it really didn't taste as good.
"Severus," Harry tried out hesitantly, and the boy patted his face with a napkin before nodding back in response. "You wouldn't happen to have read anything about magic and the... well, magic and the soul?" The boy rolled his shoulders and made with a thoughtful expression.
"It's not the most common topic, not much magic to do with souls. Or not that we know of. But there's some runes work with it. And I heard that the concept is used in Ancient Studies."
"Ancient.. isn't that a Sixth year class?" Snape gave him a look.
"Your point?"
Harry just shook his head. "Alright well, if you could... point me in the right direction? I've been curious about the... concept. It's not something we really have covered."
"Well, yeah, we're fourth years. And besides, there's loads of stuff they can't just leave laying around in Hogwarts. Not since the Ministry got involved after the second World War."
"Please," Harry put his hand up before Snape could get started. "Let's save the 'world changing policies after World War Two' for after lunch. And then could you point me towards soul magic?"
"Alright then," and Severus was back to drinking his simmering Shrivelfig concoction. Harry was going to refuse to call that a soup. It looked too suspicious.