A/N: Hello, people.

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φ = Purrintongue, language of all the feline like creatures.


Harry stared at the letter in apprehension. Rarely did his mother ever have to send him a Howler, but when she did, he knew it was going to be unpleasant. And to make it even worse, she had placed a Rune on it so only she and him could hear it.

Or maybe that made it better. She didn't want to embarrass him too much in front of the school. Just enough to get it across that he was in trouble, but not enough to publicise their business to everyone else. He'd only been sent two Howlers before and she might have learned her lesson from the last one.

She addressed it incorrectly, somehow managing to write his surname at Porter, and so Harry Porter got a Howler from a woman he didn't even know and Harry was so embarrassed that he didn't show his face in the Great Hall for nearly a week.

The letter lifted itself off the table red colored parchment folded itself into a small version of Lily Potter herself.

Yes, his mother had somehow managed to tweak the spell used on the Howlers in order to make it create a full body representation of her instead of just her face. He did not know how she had done it, but as a skilled charms practitioner, she could do a lot of things.

Harry, your father and I were very unhappy to have to learn from Severus that your life and the lives of many of your classmates and their families have been in danger and you did not go to an adult about it. I know that you are legally considered an adult in the magical community, but you are still a school student. And there are more than just families on the line.

When we hear the word family, we simply think of a few people in a group, that are related. We tend to not put faces or names to the word. So the word becomes singular instead of plural. A family consists of at least one parent/guardian and one child. That means that there could have been babies with their lives on the line.

I know that you don't think asking for help is a good thing. I know that you struggle with your pride over having to admit that you need help. But this goes beyond just your pride and everyone else's pride.

Whether the other students decided not to say anything or not doesn't matter, you should have gone to somebody higher up. Especially with something such as this. Even the Dark Lord would not have allowed a threat like that to continue.

Reginald DuBois' plans are treasonous to Voldemort's new reign. In fact, he has already broken several of the Dark Lord's vital laws. Just because there was no public punishment, does not mean that they are not working to deal with him.

I want you to learn how to study a situation. When something seems to be going wrong with somebody else or there seems to be a danger, I want you to ask yourself a few questions.

1. Can I single-handedly take on this problem?

Now I want you to replace the word 'I', with 'they' or the name of a fellow student.

This deals with leadership. And a leader has to consider everybody, not just themself and a few others. Your level of power is hardly equaled by your fellow students. Which means that if you personally are capable of handling the situation without a problem, they most likely won't be able to.

2. Is this a threat to national security?

'National' could mean that it involves everybody in the United Kingdom. Or it could just mean the magical section. Either way, if it is against a group of people that might be larger then fifty in number, it would be considered a threat to National Security according the Dark Lord's new laws. That means that any information on it has to legally be brought to him or one of his Inner Circle Knights. Severus, for example.

3. Who would be the best to go to if I decided to tell?

This means that you will consider all of the people who can take care of the situation for you and probably in a better way. The Dark Lord would be the first person to go to. Bellatrix Lestrange and Severus are also others to go to.

Other Knights aren't as trustworthy, and you cannot always place your trust in your fellow students.

4. If it is going to happen whether I do something or not, should I still say something?

The answer to this one is just a "Yes!". If somebody's life is on the line whether you say something or not, then saying something isn't going to change the possible outcome of them dying. It would be best to tell as soon as possible, in case whatever happens to them might possibly happen to others.

If you are faced with a situation that telling others would result in the death of somebody, I would advise you to think long and hard. Will the person just stop at that one, or will they continue on to other people? If that is what seems to be the case, then I would prefer it if you went and told somebody. However I would leave that to your discretion.

In the end, it is not just about your safety, but the safety others as well. Since you adore animals more than people, it would be best for you to replace the thing or person who is in danger, with your favorite animal or creature. Consider how you would react if it was their lives on the line. Maybe then you will understand how serious keeping this information to yourself can be.

We love you very much, and we are so proud of all that you have accomplished. But you still have a lot of growing up to do, and a lot of learning ahead of you.

You aren't in trouble. You won't be punished.

I just want you to understand the severity of the situation.

Love,

Your mother.

When the pre-recorded voice stopped, the little red figure on the table folded itself into a ball. From the ball, sprouted a long, green stalk with a red bud on the end.

The bud unfurled into a red, Asiatic Lily, with petals that curled slightly at the tips.

He couldn't help but smile despite just getting taken to task over his lack of foresight. His mum was awesome.

Also, she liked to rub it in the faces of others that a Muggleborn was capable of reworking already existing spells and making them better. She also liked to taunt others, and refused to relinquish the secrets except to her husband and son.

Harry would have to find a way to finish off all of his own letters in such a mysterious manner.

Also, his mother did have a good point. If animals or creatures had been in danger, he probably wouldn't have thought to keep the situation to himself and would have insisted on the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures coming to help.

Harry didn't want to be a leader, but he also didn't want to be the reason others were in danger. So her advice was sound and he would take it to heart.

She would also expect a reply, which he should get to immediately.


Lord Voldemort considered himself in the mirror, his distaste obvious on his serpentine face.

It was probably the only regret he had ever had in his entire life. The loss of his good looks. No matter what kind of magic he tried, or what kind of ritual he did, there was no way to fix his appearance.

He was stuck as a snake/human hybrid. That led to him retreating behind glamours all the time.

Terrified screams were amusing, yes, but after awhile it just got boring.

He didn't know what about it annoyed him the most. The lack of the nose or the lack of hair. A person would never understand how important their nose was in their overall appearance, until they did not have one any longer. Even though it was the nose that he had gotten from his filthy father, Voldemort would have preferred to keep it.

His appearance caused him a lot of grief. And it wasn't that it was something that was so terrible that he just couldn't handle it, it was that his glamours had to be at full strength all the time so that they did not wear away. It was some kind of magic mixed in with his body, that made it very resistant to any magic being cast on it.

Much like a basilisk.

The glamours tended to fall or wear away during sexual relations. It was irritating to be in the middle of a pleasurable experience, and suddenly have one's partner screaming bloody murder in their ear.

The last time the wizard had been so self conscious about his appearance was when he had realised how much different he had looked from his fellow Slytherin first years. He was too thin and too gaunt, if the pun could be excused.

It wasn't a pleasing thing to remember.

§Stop fussing!§ Nagini hissed from her place atop his bed covers. §You look fine! Any new potential mates should be proud to have your attention. You are regal, like the serpent king himself.§

The only being in the world that actually liked his appearance, was a snake. A snake who claimed that his appearance fit all of a proper snake's, requirements for their mate. They obviously wanted their hatchlings to look striking, and according to her, Voldemort was striking.

Speaking of striking, he was going to have to have a talk with Severus about how they were going to deal with DuBois.

Voldemort waved his wand in a complicated motion, pulling up his powerful glamour with ease. It was time to face another day masquerading as something that he was not. Joy.

If anybody ever attempted to claim that Dark Lords could not feel insecure and unsure of themselves, they were lying and deserved a good Crucio.


A lot of people took magical creatures for granted. Many failed to understand the value of their pets or they just simply underestimated them. Because humans could not connect with other beings and creatures, the ability to understand them was lacking. Harry however, was not among those who were lacking.

Thanks to his inborn ability to understand all animal and creature languages, Harry was capable of understanding them much better than other humans could.

Many people underestimated felines because of how they acted. So many assumed that because the cats did not visibly pay them enough attention, then that meant that they were being ignored. Felines however, do not need to constantly stare at you in order to show you their affection. Simply sitting near you is enough in their minds.

It was something that he had to learn when he was little. Their cat had always liked to sleep in Harry's cot, but not close enough to touch. Only when Harry grew older and began to understand that the random mumblings he was hearing were actually from his family's feline, did he learn that cats had their own way of doing things and that the cat didn't hate him.

Cats did not like it when people climbed all over them and were loud and annoying and tried to monopolise their attention. A cat was perfectly fine with sitting next to somebody for hours in silence. If a cat even chose to be in the same room as somebody, it usually meant the cat in question had found them worthy enough to be around.

The term, 'a little goes a long way', was a very important thing in a feline's life. A feline would only make a big spectacle of something if they felt that it was incredibly important. Things such as kittens under certain ages, loss of food or water, or somebody unknown encroaching on their territory. If a feline continued to make a spectacle when all of these things were fine, it usually meant something was wrong with their health and they were trying to ask for help. That, or they were warning against possible danger.

Cats also tended to work in a quid pro quo kind of mentality. They knew that their actions could bring peace to others, and tended to use that to their advantage. If a feline came by and began to purr, they usually expected to get something in return, like a nice rub behind the ears. It was also proven by a Magizoologist from the eighteen hundreds, that a feline's purr alone was capable of the same thing as a Phoenix's song. To calm others.

Cats knew this and used it to their advantage while acting cute.

They were very crafty creatures, but they weren't mean about it. And they tended to get excited really quickly if faced with something they loved.

Such as Harry bringing his monthly meal for them.

After studying animals for so long, he had learned that certain kinds had an addiction to certain foods. Cats loved fish, so Harry learned how to prepare it a certain way that the cats got all of the needed nutrients and flavours.

Every month, they knew to convene in the Quidditch Pitch at noon, where Harry would bring his specially prepared cat food, and give each of them a nice meal and a good rubbing. The felines who were familiars or pets of the students, and even the strays who wandered around.

During winter months, Harry had them meet at night in the Great Hall, when no one was around.

Sometimes people forgot to thank their pets/familiars. Even if it didn't seem like they did much, it was still nice to let them know they were appreciated. So Harry more often than not, took up the job and let each of them know that they were cared for and wanted.

The Great Hall was warm, the House Elves from the kitchens being kind enough to light the hearth. Bowls upon bowls of freshly made food rested near the warmth of the fire. And there was a feline sitting in front of each bowl.

Unlike with the owls, the cats did not excitedly yell his name when he walked into the room. Of course they all did look over and give him their full attention, but they were much more serene about it.

Harry smiled at them, and gave a friendly wave of greeting.

φHow are you all doing?φ he asked in Purrintongue, his voice coming out with a rumble and an exaggerated roll of the Rs.

There was a collective answer of 'fine/okay'.

Harry knew that once each and every one of them had finished their meals, they would come up one-by-one and explain whatever was bothering them. All he had to do was be patient for a few moments and everything would work out.

The first feline he was confronted with was a Flutterminz by the name of Winx. She was still only a kitten, and was a bit rambunctious. As such, she tended to gets into a lot of mischief.

Judging by the look of her, he could tell that her left wing was bent a little, which wasn't good.

A Flutterminz was a creature that had a feline body, but then had butterfly wings. The wings were incredibly vulnerable and were very easy to harm. Especially during the feline's infancy.

That was why the kittens were not supposed to play roughly.

φDoes it hurt?φ the wizard asked as he cast a numbing charm on the area.

φNope!φ

That was good. It meant that there was no lasting damage, and that it could be fixed without a problem.

Harry very carefully pinched the sides of the left wing between his thumb and index finger. Slowly, he focused his magic and dragged them both over the wing, straightening out the dents, and gently forcing it back into position.

The area healed carefully, and he enquired on any other ailments or possible pain. The answer was a negative.

Once he ascertained that the little Flutterminz was perfectly fine, he gave her a good scratch under the chin, and sent her on her way.

Harry settled himself in for a long evening.

It would surely take a lot of time, but Harry felt that it was worth it.


Rigel stared at the letter that was resting on his plate. It wasn't often that he got mail from anybody, but if he did, it was usually from his father as his mother would just show up unexpectedly whenever she wanted to.

But this letter wasn't written fancifully, nor did it come with any kind of curse for him to disarm first. It wasn't written by anyone allied with his family, that was for certain.

Inside, he found a small poem. It wasn't serious or even remotely touching, but it did startle a laugh from him.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

Our bedsheets would look lovely,

When wrapped around you.

He didn't know where it came from, or why it was sent to him, but it was cute in a way. A nice, little bit of humor to lighten the otherwise dreary mood that had been hanging off him lately.

Harry had been too busy to spend time with him, and Draco had nearly been poisoned to death. Rigel just hadn't been feeling well as of late.

So it was nice to just get something fun for the sake of fun.

There was no name(s) but as the word 'our' had been used, he could at least deduce that more than one person was involved.

Taking up his quill, Rigel was intent on sending them a response that rhymed as well.

Why not have a little fun while he could?


It wouldn't have come as a shock to anyone if they heard that Hermione Granger had once again pressed her face into a book. Hermione was well known for her love of books and the fact that she tended to cling to them too much. So it wasn't strange that she was obviously very involved and whatever she was reading.

Bellatrix Lestrange new of the Muggleborn. She was one of the top students in the school, and was literally going for twelve N.E.W.T.s. She had managed to take twelve O.W.L.s almost easily.

The girl was one of those rare examples that even with a lacking background, people could persevere well enough to make something of themselves. Bellatrix was certain that she had enough skill to be a Slytherin. In truth, she did not understand why the girl had not been sorted there.

Bellatrix had been leaning against the same bookcase for the past several minutes, and the teenager had never noticed her there nor felt her fluctuating magic.

Bellatrix could perfectly understand why the girl was so entrenched in the book she was reading. It was because the particular book in question, was a book on the Dark Arts from the Restricted Section.

It had not escaped the Knight's notice that the girl had begun dabbling in the Dark Arts. Unfortunately, she had thrown herself headfirst instead of taking her time.

Bellatrix was all for the all-encompassing feeling of the Dark Magic just filling every crevice of her body and soul. She rejoiced at the feeling she got whenever she cast any kind of Dark Magic. But even Bellatrix had limits.

Bellatrix did not immediately start out wielding the most dangerous of dark curses. She was forced to work from the ground up. Not even when the Dark Lord himself had coached her personally, did he have her immediately start out with all-encompassing curses.

Bellatrix could understand the teen's zeal. She could connect with the idea of wanting to know more and wanting to feel that desire that thrummed in her veins in response to the Dark Arts. She understood very well.

But she could not let this continue.

Bellatrix knew that her following actions would not in any way be able to help the girl win the tournament. Still, though skilled she may be, she was still a novice at this sort of thing. The tournament would end within a few months, and nobody, not even the Dark Lord himself, was capable of mastering the Dark Arts in such a short span of time.

Granger seemed to be most loyal to Potter. Potter was going to go on to do great things in the future. While she had her own ideas, whether he decided to follow them or his own pursuits, he would still become someone of notice. Having both him and his friend loyal or at least compliant with the Dark Lord's reign, was the most important thing at present.

Both were skilled, both were powerful, and both had the talent and the capability to overthrow the Dark Lord should they be given a chance. Should they even care to.

Bellatrix was not against using somebody else's friendship or feelings in order to get what she wanted. She wanted Potter to remain on the Dark Lord's good side. That meant playing nice with all of his little friends. That meant weaning Granger off of her Post Dark Arts Addiction.

The woman summoned the book right from the girl's slightly shaking hands, shocking her from her stupor.

Grainger started and looked around wildly, trying to find where the book had gone. When her eyes landed on Bellatrix's form, they widened considerably with fear and trepidation.

Bellatrix was sorely tempted to cackle, but even she was not one who wanted to face Madam Pince if she made too much noise. That woman had done something to her voice to make it grating and annoying. And when she opened her mouth to scold someone, it was just not worth it to misbehave in the library. At least while she was around.

"The itty bitty Muggleborn is dipping her fingers in a pie she can't handle!" Bellatrix sang, her voice high and unnerving. "What should we do about that?"

Granger's eyes dilated as they landed on the book that Bellatrix now held between her thin fingers. It was obvious that she was not all there, if she was completely ignoring the possible danger she was in by being faced with somebody like Bellatrix.

"I'm fine," the girl insisted.

Bellatrix snorted, because she had said the exact same thing all those years ago. She had been so certain that because it didn't seem like it was an addiction, but it obviously was one. And she refused to listen to the people who obviously knew more than she did about the subject.

Had the Dark Lord not taken her under his wing as he had, Bellatrix could have made a fatal mistake in her studying of the Dark Arts. This little girl was well on her way to repeating Bellatrix's mistakes.

"No you aren't. Eventually you'll lose the ability to focus. And with your focus, goes your control over your bodily functions and over your magic. If you do not stop and take a break soon, you are going to crack. That kind of crack, is very difficult to heal."

"Why do you care?"

Bellatrix didn't care all that much, she was just slightly appalled at the lack of discretion and control involved. She also had her own agenda in approaching the girl. It wasn't done completely out of the kindness of her heart. It wasn't like Bellatrix really had any kindness left in her heart, unless it was about puppies, but that was another story altogether.

"You crave it," the woman purred. "You want to feel the sensual caress of the magic. You want more of it, and when you use it, it never seems to be enough, does it?"

Granger fidgeted and looked away from Bellatrix's knowing gaze. Sometimes the truth was too much to handle. Bellatrix didn't care about her feelings though, and she was going to keep going no matter what.

"If you don't learn self-control, and you don't seek the guidance that you know you need, you will fall. And there will be no way to help you. And all that potential that you have will have gone to waste."

The older witch knew what she was doing. She was slowly tricking Granger in to a specific mindset. Latching onto her desire to be better, and manipulating it for her benefit.

She was making the girl understand. If she wanted to learn more, and wanted to succeed in life, she would need help. And who would be the perfect person to ask for help?

In the end, Bellatrix was working the situation to make it seem like it was Granger's idea to be trained by Bellatrix. Instead of it being Bellatrix who was manipulating the entire situation to her advantage, it gave Granger a sense of empowerment that was completely false. Not that the girl needed to know that.

Like the Gryffindor she was, Granger's eyes steeled with her resolve.

"Would you teach me?"

Bellatrix's grin was so sharp, it could cut diamonds!


Harry was in dire need of several new sheets of parchment. Her order of Madam Pomfrey, he had been stuck in the Hospital Wing the former evening, writing out every method he could think of, to heal a broken wrist without using any potions.

Then to have the old witch scan the parchment every time he went to hand it in, and shake her head because there weren't enough methods listed for her, was annoying. However, Harry finally did get to hand in the assignment with over twenty-seven spells and thirteen rituals that could be used to heal a broken wrist.

Thankfully, it was a Hogsmeade weekend. In fact, it was the lovers weekend because Valentine's Day was Sunday and everyone was running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

Harry knew that Madam Puddifoot's have been completely overhauled for the Muggle holiday, and there were no more chances to make a reservation. Even with the undetectable extension charms in the room, there was no more room for any more couples.

It was kind of funny.

Neville had been smart enough to acquire permission to take his girlfriend, Hannah Abbott, elsewhere. Not many people considered that as seventh years, they would be able to leave so long as they were back by a certain time.

Hermione was too busy to date anyone. The witch was so fixated on winning the Consort Tournament, Harry wasn't certain that she was actually planning to date anybody.

Not that Harry was looking to start a relationship anytime soon. People were needy and they wanted attention. Harry was more focused on his studies and keeping his friend alive. If he were to date somebody, he would have to constantly stop what he was doing to see if they needed something or they had to have attention.

He had seen enough of other couples to know that he did not want to deal with any of that anytime soon.

There were several reasons as to why he did not like Valentine's Day. Other than the fact that he wasn't a Muggle and in general magical households it was not celebrated, it also inspired some very lacklustre behavior.

The dark lord had outlawed love potions years ago. But just because something was against the law did not mean that people suddenly decided to follow the law. Harry already had witnessed too many people getting dosed with love potions.

The Dark Lord was most displeased.

The teen didn't really understand the man's absolute abhorrence of the potions, but challenging him was not a smart idea. so nobody said anything.

At least once a year, several students of Hogwarts would find themselves in very precarious situations do to somebody somehow dosing them with a love potion. It had once happened to Luna, in which Harry had not been pleased and had hunted down the Ravenclaw and question and left them… reflecting, on their actions for months afterward.

The problem was that love potions were not used in order to get somebody to actually fall in love with you. People used them to gain servants, or to boss someone around. Or to embarrass them somehow.

Using a love potion equaled a week in Azkaban.

Despite the very unpleasant punishment that came with it, people still used them. He had to wonder. Were people just stupid or did they think that they were good enough to not get caught by the Dark Lord?

Harry very skillfully avoided every couple he came across while walking through Hogsmeade. There giggles and batting eyelashes disgusted him on a small level and he didn't want to spend more time among them than necessary. Public displays of affection made him uncomfortable for some reason.

Of course who else could he have run into while purchasing more items for his classes? Voldemort himself.

The man was perusing a line of shelves and had a stack of books floating beside him. Obviously he couldn't bother to carry his own things.

While the action was ingenious, Harry could help but feel annoyed. Maybe he was just being spiteful, but anything the Dark Lord did annoyed him anymore.

He was unable to get away unseen, because the man was somehow able to sense whenever he was there. There was a flicker of crimson before Harry was full-on confronted with the Dark Lord's penetrating gaze. And slow smirk trailed across the man's face.

"If it isn't Harry Potter," the older wizard purred pleasantly. Or as pleasant as something that predatory could sound.

Harry's only response was to glare.

The teen turned and stomped off toward the register, so he could pay for his things and leave quickly. Voldemort however, did not agree with his decision, and followed him.

They did not speak to one another. Harry even left the shop first, only to find he was being followed a few seconds later. And the Dark Lord merely gave him an innocent look, as if anything that man did was innocent.

He was promptly followed into the Three Broomsticks, and the man even sat across from him at the table he chosen in a secluded corner.

"Is there a reason as to why you are stalking me, my Lord?"

"I want to."

Well it wasn't like Harry asked for a good reason. He kind of walked right into that one.

"There are plenty of other seats available," the teen pointed out.

"So there are."

The twat!

Madam Rosmerta saddled up to the table with a bright grin on her face. However, Harry found it strange that she was only staring at him. "What can I get for you, dear?"

"Gilly Water, please?"

"Coming right up, darling!"

She never once looked in Voldemort's direction. Harry couldn't help but look at the Dark Lord questioningly. Surely the man wouldn't appreciate being overlooked when he was so obviously there?

The man merely smirked.

After a few moments of staring each other down, Harry ended up losing when Madam Rosmerta placed a goblet down on the table. She gave a wink and sauntered off.

Deciding to ignore the man who for some reason, kept following him everywhere he went and seeking him out no matter where he was, Harry reached for the goblet and decided to take a long drink.

And everything went downhill from there.


Voldemort wasn't considered one of the most terrifying Dark Lord's to have ever existed, for no reason.

Luna felt a cold shiver run down her spine at the vision that came to her suddenly. She had to pause what she was doing so she didn't mess up the circle she was drawing.

Dosing someone with a love potion was foolish. To do so in front of the Dark Lord was especially idiotic!

How to make the matters even worse, Harry was not responding to any kind of stimulation!

The blonde set aside her chalk, and departed for the Headmaster's office immediately. By the time the Dark Lord had returned with Harry, Mr. And Mrs. Potter would already be aware of the situation and would hopefully be on their way.

The most alarming part of the entire situation, was the fact that Reginald DuBois was not behind it.


A/N: Another is done!

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