Autor's Note:
Many thanks to the latest reviewers Mrs Pumpkins and SentinalSlice!
Dissension
"Before I waste even a single word, you'd better tell me right now if what that blasted creature has claimed is true," Riddle demanded to know, eyes flashing. "Did you, or did you not, enter a known pureblood family home without informing me?"
"That has nothing to do with the refuge. I don't see why that's your problem-" but that was as far as Harry got with his statement, Riddle interrupting him angrily.
"How can anyone be so hare-brained! Of course it's my business. Don't you realise what you might have done with your stupid action?"
Harry blinked in confusion. Asterope didn't really seem to grasp what her grandfather was getting at either. Riddle shook his head in irritation and threw back at them with great bitterness, "You two idiots really don't get it! I have worked whole decades for a situation like this. At last the traditionalist bloc is crumbling, the wind has shifted towards reconciliation with the Muggle tribesmen and Dumbledore's house of cards is in danger of collapsing. Thawing season after such a long winter. And then you two morons run in and threaten this development!
"If this misguided action becomes public - however well you have disguised it, all the progress will be gone! The traditionalists who would have slowly but surely fallen to us will turn away in fear to their old master to protect themselves from this chaotic intrusion into their most private lives.
"I had him down! He tripped over his excessively long beard and your action will help him get up again. The damage you have done today! And once again, I see no remorse on your face, Potter. You are nothing more than a thoughtless, self-orbiting troll stumbling through the world!"
Here Harry cut him off, "If it wasn't for me, Dumbledore would never have stumbled and then his servants wouldn't have put him in this situation in the first place. My trollish stomping had pleased you quite well before. Besides, it is not at all certain that they will even notice our reconnaissance mission."
"This naivety again!" thundered Riddle indignantly with hammering gestures. "Of course they'll find out. They're not complete idiots! They'll notice when they're missing whole chunks of a day's memory. The Ministry certainly has highly capable specialists who can uncover this.
"And who, if not my people, could be responsible for that! You probably didn't even have the presence of mind to steal something to spread the plausible, false suspicion of a robbery. This will ruin everything. All the progress we may have made in part because of you. But even if I concede that, now you've destroyed what you helped to create!"
It was strange to see Tom Riddle in a state of righteous anger. Surely Harry had seen Voldemort in his almost childish rage. But this was different. It was not so much the denial of a vain wish that had driven the man to fury, but rather a serious attack on his life's work.
Harry understood that. All the same, it was somewhat excessive. If he had not come to this dimension, then this opportunity would not have arisen in the first place. So nothing had actually changed. Even if Riddle's nightmare came true and the Ministry exposed their visit to the Potters, he would only have reset the world to zero. That is, the state of affairs as it was before his arrival.
Before he could voice his own mildly indignant thoughts, Asterope declared defiantly with her hands on her hips, "The only one you can blame is yourself, Grandfather! If you had put your cards on the table openly, then we mere mortals wouldn't have to get our own information. You keep everyone here in the dark and then wonder when people take this matter into their own hands. That's the only thing that's hare-brained around here!"
Asterope's words, which Harry fully endorsed, only seemed to make Riddle angrier. In a cutting tone he retorted, "Neither of you have ever consulted me! You use this refuge but you only give when it suits you. I am an agreeable man. You could have talked to me, asked your questions. But you didn't even try."
"As if that ever did anything good with you," Asterope grumbled, stamping her foot angrily. "All anyone ever gets from you are half-truths, asides and deflections. It took you a whole bloody week to tell me that Dad and Mum were gone. And then on top of that you lied!
"I have no reason to trust you with anything! And Harry's not much better off. You treat her like a useful tool, like a weapon to use as you please. Just like you do with every other person! But he's not from here. You leave him in a state of confusion so that you can use him more easily."
Although Harry agreed with her on this, he inwardly admitted that there was an irrational component to his treatment of Riddle. But he could not deny how uncomfortable it was to be compared to a weapon once again in his life. And when he considered the battle in Slytherin's Burden, this accusation could hardly be dismissed in relation to Riddle. He had, after all, downright ordered him there.
"None of that matters," Riddle replied, shaking his head. "We have a necessary command structure. Without it, our community would never have progressed beyond its birth hours. Secrecy is for the safety of every single person here. And Mr Potter has done everything he can to prove to me how untrustworthy, how erratic he is."
Here he addressed Harry again, "I had hoped that after your experience in Slytherin's Burden, you would finally realise that all of this is bitterly serious. It's not a game where you can do whatever you want, because it's not your world. But perhaps I should have realised when you released Durl from his necessary restraints that you are nothing but selfish, undiscerning and personified chaos."
At the end of his last sentence, the man quite quickly pulled out his wand and twirled it around, while at the same time walking menacingly towards Harry. Presumably just as Riddle had intended, Harry had backed away and drawn his own wand. Riddle had conjured a portal behind Harry, which meant that they were now both in a wildly rampant section of a forest. Asterope and Durl had followed Riddle before the portal closed behind them again.
Against all expectations, Riddle lowered his wand again. His two companions, however, did not. They rushed to him and paused in front of him in a very defensive posture. Something stirred in his heart. To stand in Tom Riddle's way to protect him showed courage and commitment - no matter how absurd it seemed to him to want to defend a master of Defense Against the Dark Arts when those protectors were themselves far from being such.
Riddle broke the silence, his voice now sounding regretful rather than angry, "I am a man of my word. I warned you that I would not tolerate another such transgression. Harry James Potter, known as Harry James, you are hereby banished from the Refuge and the Fellowship of the White Sun."
The pendant Riddle had given him at the beginning of his stay became searing hot on his sternum. Harry quickly pulled it out and threw it from him. Still in flight, the metal burned up and turned to dust, which the wind caught and dispersed. Although it probably shouldn't have surprised Harry, he looked with torn eyes at the spot where his pendant had disintegrated.
"I'm afraid there's only one way for me to proceed from here," Riddle said quietly. "I will have to denounce you openly. Officially cut the alliance between us. And do it in such a way that it looks as if our quarrel has ended long before now.
"That may be the only way I can convince the frightened traditionalists that I and the Fellowship had nothing to do with this violation of boundaries. I regret that. But I see no other way to preserve our achievement. Dumbledore must not be allowed to gain new ground!"
"If you cast him out, you can forget about me too!" cried Asterope angrily, but also audibly close to tears. "I will then no longer do business with the Fellowship, or support it in any other way. If Harry is no longer welcome because of this, then neither should I be."
As Harry eyed her in consternation, Riddle replied incredulously, "Be reasonable. I can keep your name out of this. And without him, you have never done anything so unreasonable before. It is dangerous for you outside the Fellowship. I let you have your way when you opened your silly little business in Salazar's Burden. But without my protection, it won't take the Order long to expose you. And I'm sure you can imagine what will happen to you then."
"I'm proud of this silly little business! I don't need your protection. I can manage quite well on my own. And besides, I have friends I can count on," at this she directed her gaze first at Durl and then at Harry, smiling a little painfully.
Riddle laughed and replied, "A mentally unstable elf and a nationally wanted renegade. What a great help!"
"I am well known in the town and not unpopular. I bet that half the people there would stand in harms way for me if the situation called for it. And that's more than I can say about you," she replied bitterly.
"I will not force you to see reason," Riddle said, shaking his head sadly. "If you will have it no other way, Asterope Cassiopeia Riddle you are hereby banished from the Refuge and the Fellowship of the White Sun."
Asterope groaned in pain and clutched her left forearm convulsively. When she released it, trembling, there was nothing left of the tattoo but an aggressive unhealthy redness. There was something hurt in the looks of both persons as they met.
"It breaks my heart that our paths part this way, Asterope. If one day sanity finds its way back to you, then you know how to make contact," Riddle spoke without any emotion as if he, through his Occlumency, had pushed his inner turmoil out of his consciousness.
With a now spiteful expression, he addressed the mountain elf, who had remained surprisingly silent: "Durl, son of Plaktkûrm, you are hereby banished from the Refuge and the Fellowship of the White Sun. I am glad not to have to see your ugly face in my Refuge ever again. You will see how much crueler the world will be to your kind in the freedom you have longed so much in the past."
„Nirp klêlnmestan svûrvunk dsepsê Brokesk bnaktâ. Bôfan todno Gnêlp!" growled Durl at the old wizard, showing his sharp goblin-like teeth. At this the two stared angrily at each other. Not understanding Durl's goblin language, Harry could only guess that it must have been insulting.
"That's it then," Harry said coldly and disappointedly, breaking the tension between the mountain elf and Riddle. "You'll have to find a teacher again. You can keep the curriculum I've written down."
"Perhaps I should never have involved you. You were competent enough as a teacher. On the other hand, the good that moved us forward would never have happened either. But it's no use. You never trusted me and I now cannot trust you anymore. You're on your own."
With these words, Riddle turned back, conjured a portal in the blink of an eye, stepped through it and disappeared with it. Here Asterope began to sob. For a moment Harry closed his eyes. Even though he knew he was not solely responsible for this rift between granddaughter and grandfather, he felt as if he was. Somewhat clumsily and unpractised at these things, he closed the gap between them and took her in his arms.
To his surprise, she almost gripped onto him and cried silently for a while. Finally Harry explained, "I'm so sorry about all this. I didn't mean to set this off."
"It's all right," she whispered a little unsteadily. "It had to happen sometime. I was just always too cowardly. I didn't dare to do it. But maybe you've given me courage and opportunity to finally cut my ties."
She lingered in his embrace far longer than seemed necessary. Her acute desperate sadness seemed to have been gone for many minutes. Harry wasn't quite sure what their relationship was. He had, of course, soon sensed that he liked her a little more than was perhaps good for him. He had never acted on those impulses. Judging by her behaviour, it seemed to have been not so dissimilar for her.
But suddenly, albeit gently, she loosened her embrace and turned to Durl, who was looking away from them, strained and uncomfortable. She snapped at him angrily: "What were you thinking, telling him about it? Are you out of your mind? What did you hope to gain from it?"
The mountain elf contorted his face uncomfortably and replied with unusual humility, not at all unlike a House Elf: "It slipped out. You know Riddle makes the house-elves assign me to clean the toilets. He likes to watch me do it. And after a sardonic comment, I got angry.
"So I was looking for something to throw at him. I thought it would just upset him a bit that I could have my own agenda. I didn't know he was going to throw you guys out of the Refuge for that. It was my home too. I can already feel some of my powers fading. Damn House Elf blood. I'm sorry."
"You're sorry, huh? Durl, that was by far the stupidest thing you've ever done," Asterope said, serious and frowning at first. Then she started to laugh until she finally said, "Well, at least you won't have that problem in the future. After all, grandfather can't taunt you anymore now. I'll still be mad at you for a while, Durl. I had better facilities to brew in the Refuge."
"What exactly are you planning to do now?" asked Harry, ignoring the situation with Durl. He himself was actually quite angry with the mountain elf, but he felt that the moment was not a good time to be upset. After all, they were standing in the middle of a forest he was completely unfamiliar with.
"I suppose you mean: what exactly are we planning to do now?" she now replied cheerfully again - or at least in feigned mirth. "And that's easy to answer: We're moving into my shop! Or, well, into the flat we're setting up there. Surely you've mastered some kind of Space-Expansion Spell? If we work on it together, we'll move faster. You make your place, I'll make mine."
With a shrug, Harry replied, "I've used weaker Undetectable Expansion Charms on bags in the past. But this is one area where your world is superior to mine, from what I've seen. Half the Refuge was stretched space, as far as I can tell."
He had noticed this when he had tried Pertorquetur in the Refuge. This spell of rearranging space worked much worse when it was performed in space that was already magically influenced. And that had been the case in many places in the refuge. He had never had this problem in his homeworld.
Space-Expansion Charms were commonplace, but their capacity was quite limited, regarding accessible rooms that were supposed to have a long durability additionally. Double and triple was still quite easy to accomplish and to that extent Pertorquetur still worked without problems. There were, of course, masters even in his world who could create entire palaces in chests. But these were complex enchantments and they were not so easy to create.
He knew that Hermione had worked on her absurdly strong enchanted purse for almost a year and even that had exploded after three years, unexpectedly for her. After that, she had never dared to attempt such far-reaching Space-Expansion Charms again.
How exactly the people here had developed this kind of magic Harry did not know, of course. It had been taught in Charms in the ninth grade at this Hogwarts, but there was no hint of it in the Refuge, not even in the meagre library. In everything to do with comfort, this world seemed in part far ahead of his.
"Then perhaps I can teach you," Asterope remarked enthusiastically, conjuring a portal for the three of them that would lead them to her shop. At least, that's what Harry assumed.
It turned out that the advanced Space-Extension Charms were mainly provided by the amoral potion-making practices of that world. While Harry had never studied enchantments in depth, he was educated enough to know the basic procedure. Either rows of runes were used to define an enchantment or objects, with specific material properties were used as anchors for certain spells as the magic adhered to them in the long run. He understood nothing more of either.
In this world, Alchemy seemed to play a greater role than in Harry's world. Presumably, given the power Dumbledore held and liked to wield here, that was not particularly surprising. In any case, a special potion seemed to be transformed by alchemical transmutation into a kind of crystal capable of holding a certain Space-Extension Charm permanently. The latter, incidentally, also did not correspond to any known spell from his world. Either a new creation or a traditional deviation from its homeworld.
Now Asterope was a master of substitution and Harry was happy to believe her about that. After all, they both thought it would be wrong to use goblin blood and dried sphinx brain matter just to increase some space. But her potion, which she made into crystalline form in what seemed to be a fairly standard alchemical process, naturally no longer exactly matched the given spell, which was quite dangerous from Harry's point of view. At this point he wished he had studied those interdisciplinary arts, namely alchemy and enchantment, a little more.
But since Harry didn't exactly want to sleep in an unenchanted cupboard - he'd already done that long enough for the rest of his life - he had no choice but to trust the iridescent green crystals Asterope had produced. The spell was relatively simple for someone of Harry's experience. Anchoring an enchantment on the other side he was only moderately proficient at, having tried it on a few examples before.
Of course, Asterope had been experimenting with her potion for a long time before that. One of her cabinets had already been in the state of expansion for seven years without any cracks showing in its magical durability. But Harry remained sceptical, even if he did not express this to Asterope. Magic was sometimes unpredictable. The mere permanent presence of a wizard could already produce a completely different result.
The four small rooms he had created for himself, however, actually had an old storage cupboard of Asterope's as an entrance. He would gradually adapt them to their area of use. A kitchen, a bathroom, a study and of course a bedroom. The latter was also the only one that was already habitable.
He had invisibly scavenged the abandoned and charred buildings for raw material and transformed it into suitable furniture and a mattress. Even that was a makeshift solution at best. Transfigurations were only truly permanent when the matter of the end result matched that of the initial object. And being accurate here was not always particularly easy - especially if you changed the material and not just the shape.
For a transfigured object never forgot what it had once been. A simple spell was enough to undo the change. The situation was different with pure change of form. There was a long-standing dispute about this between experts in transfiguration and charms, whether these were real transfigurations or charms that manipulated an object. All that mattered to Harry was that this magic could not, by a spell cast in error, change his wardrobe back into a pile of burnt boards.
The result, of course, was that his furniture had a rather rustic charm, at least when the beholder was well disposed towards him. A disgruntled observer, on the other hand, might complain about the singed, blackened wood. A Reparo could only regenerate things to a limited extent.
Asterope, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem stealing some rich muggle's furniture. Her flat, which she had set up in a cupboard next to his, was also much bigger. It was obvious that she trusted her crystals more than Harry. Only brewing was still something she didn't want to risk there.
The shop was on the top floor above a shop for magical clothing. It really wasn't very big and without the Space-Expansion Charms, living together here would have been very cramped. Even in Harry's wizarding world, that was not something one was used to. Asterop's shop was called, to Harry's inner horror, "Enigma Brightstars Enthralling Brews".
Apparently the temptation to play obscure games with one's name was in the Riddles' blood. Since Asterope was the brightest star in the Pleiades, Brightstar seemed to stand for it, and that Enigma simply meant Riddle in Latin or ancient Greek was obvious. Harry, in her place, would have chosen a name that was not at all related to her actual identity.
In fact, even Voldemort's variant with an anagram was probably preferable here, since normally no one felt the urge to rearrange letters of a the other hand, her pseudonym, eccentric as it was, was absolutely within the bounds of what could be expected of names in magical society. Still, for Harry it was an unnecessary risk to be unmasked and he had told her so in his confusion over this choice of name. She had been sympathetic to his concern, but thought it unnecessary. So he left this discussion at that.
After all, she had made this decision about nine years ago and no one had yet recognised her as Tom Riddle's granddaughter. She had never visited Hogwarts anyway. Everyone who knew her by her real name came from the Fellowship, after all. Her clients here knew her only as the charming, half-blooded Enigma Brightstar.
He himself roamed the village only in disguise. Invisible at night and with a transfigured appearance during the day. He took on a wide variety of faces and skin colours, so that no one could clearly trace him. He usually disapparated from his home to the edge of the village and went in from there.
Asterope didn't like that very understood that it would look suspicious if, shortly after the more or less official break between the infamous Grief and her grandfather, she suddenly found herself living with a strange man. At the same time, she thought he was overprotective. After all, she was far beyond the age at which witches normally entered into partnerships and it would surprise no one in Slytherin's Burden if she had finally decided to do so.
Officially, they had not heard anything about the break-in. The Herald hadn't reported it and there was no word in the other magical media either. Harry didn't know whether it was suspicious or not. And yet he couldn't completely put out of his mind Riddle's observation that it was almost impossible that it hadn't been discovered.
But he had heard nothing of the opposite either. Nowhere was there any report of the Potter bastard breaking with the Riddle group. But in the end, that showed little more than that they were now paradoxically even less in the loop than before. So far, then, both his caution and her optimism were understandable.
And the latter also leads to other unclear entanglements for Harry. Their relationship with each other remained relatively warm and cordial. But it was obvious to Harry by now that she was already ready to go a little further. And he didn't quite know how to deal with it.
Of course, he didn't react dismissively to her advances, but his experience of these things was strained, to put it mildly. It was true that his past relationship with Ginny had not haunted him for a long time, but it had somehow spoiled the whole subject for him. On top of that, Asterope was now his only ally. If this delicate bond between them withered, then he would have no one left.
Unfortunately, Harry was not a cold calculating person who could lock away his emotions and desires. So he didn't even try. But his slowly emerging relationship with Asterope was still not easy for him. He didn't know if it was already infatuation or simply great attachment. In his childhood and youth he had never learned such distinctions, the former two had been too cold and he had also been too cowardly to learn about it.
She seemed to simply accept his hesitation. And since he never rejected her when she sought his proximity, perhaps his conflict was not so obvious. In the end, it left him in a strange in-between state, which as such was not particularly pleasant.
Otherwise, his life in Slytherin's Burden was quieter than ever. And that was unbearable for Harry. When he considered how much he had once longed for a quiet and peaceful life! Of course, it was a colourful lie, pleasing to the eye, but in the end it was only a mirage. He saw it every day.
For although the agents of magical Britain looked down on the little town with disdain, they did have a certain presence there. There were always one or two aurors out and about during the day, stopping citizens to ask them awkward questions. Something about what they were doing, where they just came from, who they were meeting with, or if they were carrying illegal substances. He himself had been questioned and searched by them in various guises.
It was a repressive climate which developed in this way. There was no physical assault, as one would fear from the Order, but the feeling of a strict hierarchy was reinforced - even in their very home. That was also one of the reasons why he would secretly be almost happy if their reconnaissance mission became public, so that this uneasy feeling would spread to both sides and not just to one. Maybe it would make some of the pureblood society rethink.
A naïve thought, of course. More likely was escalation - especially in these douchey circles. To trust them with so much empathy was probably too much to expect. He was almost beginning to understand Riddle's perspective here, that it wasn't Dumbledore who was the problem, but the whole culture of contempt that he had merely consolidated, not created.
Harry's gaze roamed around the shop he was tending for Asterope. He wasn't necessarily made to sell things, he found. It wasn't really his cup of tea. But it gave her more time to concentrate on brewing, and besides, he was doing something to earn his keep. If the Dursleys had taught him nothing else, at least they had trained him hard never to take anything for granted.
A person entered the shop. And Harry knew him. It was Walter Barlow. Possibly he was here to buy potions for the Fellowship. Harry greeted him boredly with a monotone, "Welcome to Enigma Brightstar's Enthralling Brews. What can I help you with?"
Harry had assumed the form of a man who could best be described as a chubby, dark-skinned, dark-haired Darco Malfoy. He was rarely particularly creative with his disguises, taking faces of familiar people and adapting them a little. Barlow looked at him in confusion for a moment, but then an understanding smile emerged on his features.
He said cheerfully, "Your disguise is quite good, Mr. James. But it's not much of a mental exercise for Refugium residents to guess that it's you. After all, Asterope has never had the means to hire a salesman."
If Harry were not himself, this information could well have been dangerous for Barlow. Harry scratched his head uncertainly and asked hesitantly, "What brings you here?"
"I've resigned from the club too!" he announced almost solemnly.
Harry's right eyebrow rose questioningly as he replied, "Why is that? I wouldn't have given up that security without need."
"I should have done so much sooner. Riddle is slowly losing his mind. Throwing out our best man! I'd be dead today if it wasn't for you. Lupin would be dead. And who knows who else, with a Titus Malfoy or Sirius Black roaming free.
"Battle prowess may not be everything, but it's still important. Riddle did tell the Refuge dwellers why he excluded you, but I think it's silly. As if the regime would know if you were still living in the Refuge! I just think Riddle's best years are over. Without you, his highly praised progress wouldn't have happened in the first place!"
Here Harry began to smile and replied: "That's what I told him. I don't really understand what he got out of it either, but I think he was just furious and didn't think too much about it. Now he has to live with it. But you didn't answer my question. I'm sure you're not here just to tell me about your decision to leave the refuge."
"No," Barlow said with a sigh, his face darkening. "No, that's not my reason for being here. I wanted to share a bit of information about the situation with you in the first place. Riddle has let it be known through his channels, as he calls it, that there was a rift between him and you days before your action. The main channel is presumably Lucius Malfoy.
"That means the Ministry will be looking for you. So far they either haven't discovered you, or they don't want to snatch you yet. You are not safe here. Neither is our dear Miss Brightstar. At least not indefinitely. You must go into hiding somewhere where you cannot be found. I have no suggestion. I am sure that as soon as I appear too often, I too will attract attention.
"After all, they know my face from the old days when we dolts didn't wear masks. I was much younger then, of course. But it won't be long before they connect the dots, especially my old "friends" at the Aurors. I'll probably leave the country for a while. I'm too old for this pointless struggle. I certainly won't let Riddle coerce me any longer to risk my life if he's not willing to stand by his own.
"Perhaps I have become selfish in my old age. But I just can't see it anymore, the misery and the death. I would bear it if it were appreciated. But with Riddle at the helm. Pah. You can forget it. You I would have followed and if you ever need help, well, write it in here."
At the last sentence, he handed him a small notebook bound in a plain grey cloth cover. Probably of Muggle origin. Before Harry could reply, Barlow said, "It's one part of an enchanted pair of books. You write something in one and it appears in the other. You surely know this stuff. It should work all over the world.
"Say hello to Miss Riddle for me. She's a good person. Heart in the right place. Unlike her grandfather. And please take my warning seriously. This-" here he turned and pointed at the shelves of the shop with his twirling hands. "-will only get you killed. They will find you and eliminate you in whatever way they can. I know the scumbags. Get out of here and get out as fast as you can."
With those words, Barlow strode purposefully out of the shop with Harry blinking after him. Harry didn't want to hear that. And Asterope would want to hear it even less. But could they really ignore this honest admonishment?
Here something came to Harry's mind that he had almost forgotten about during the last weeks of the quite peaceful cohabitation with Asterope. A small pebble with a Mannaz rune engraved on it. Before, he had not been in the mood to make contact with other rebels. Especially not when their perspective was potentially even more dubious and above all militant than Riddle's. But after Barlow's warning, he was no longer so sure they had much choice in the matter.
Endnote
Goblin language snippet:
Nirp klêlnmestân Svûrvunk dsepsê Brokesk bnaktâ. Bôfan todno Gnêlp! - I will shed your blood one day. It will be glorious.