Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.

Chapter 35

Adrenaline flooded the young witch's system like an intravenous drip – right into her blood at full pelt. She thought her heart would explode as her eyes grew impossibly wide, letting in every ounce of the feeble light. Instinctively, her body wanted to either run to someone for comfort or work to find a functioning wand in the name of vengeance, but she instead sat right where she was.

Her mind raced back to the timelines in her old world, to the birth of Tom Riddle, his ascension to Dark Lord, and the catastrophic events that would unfold over the course of the First War. When she arrived in this strange, new world, it was early 1976. If her maths was right after factoring in her one-year period of recuperation, it was currently mid-September 1978. If events still stayed the same – as nearly all of them did – this means James and his ilk would have already graduated Hogwarts and already joined the Order at the behest of Albus Dumbledore.

Augustus' words were echoing loudly in her ears as she repeated the sentence over and over in her mind until she nearly went mad: they are all dead.

Fear, confusion, and helplessness coursed through her veins – but didn't control her as it once did.

Something has clearly occurred which wasn't factored into my calculations. She thought as she struggled to stay rational and calm with the help of Occlumency. It was different in my past, not everyone died. What sparked this diversion?

With a loud gasp, she suddenly knew why she was feeling so composed. This was supposed to happen, but perhaps not at this accelerated rate.

In her old world, the vast majority of the Order and other similar splinter groups comprising of freedom fighters and revolutionists were nearly all wiped out by the skilled Death Eaters of the First War. She also remembered Mad-Eye Moody once telling her a lesser known fact about the tragic loss of life of Aurors, the magical vanguard that safeguarded and protected the people of Britain more than they knew it themselves, as well as the countless bloodlines that were deemed 'blood traitors' who were completely wiped off the face of the earth.

In Diagon Alley, she recalled once passing a memorial dedicated to all those who sacrificed themselves in the First War, the innocents that were caught in the crossfire, and the forgotten saviours who worked from the shadows. The unspeakable loss of life was never not an option, for that was why the soon-to-be-born Harry Potter was worshipped and was hailed by all as the miraculous saviour of the wizarding world.

With another bout of realization, everything she had worked so far for had just crumbled in dust. All the long months of planning, training, subterfuge, and preparation had been for naught. Emotions that lay suppressed behind the constructed mental barrier of her mind threatened to spill through as her spirit wavered.

"Augustus," she started in a whisper, unable to keep silent any longer, "Tell me everything."

The wizard had already finished his entire bottle of firewhiskey and was gazing at her expectantly, as if waiting for this very question. He took a deep, deep breath before starting.

"We were winning, could you believe that, Harold? We were actually winning," Augustus' eyes misted over as he looked to the side, "Albus somehow seemed to know beforehand about all the raids and ambushes the Dark Lord was planning in his quest for hegemony. We were ready for nearly everything. We were mentally fortified, physically hardened, and magically trained to react to any kind of situation. Then… then…" his voice trailed off for a brief second before strength returned to his voice.

"Then, a few months ago, came fire. Dragons. Their shadows blotted out the sun, the beating of their wings deafened the skies, their roars shook the earth. Some wingless, some scaleless, it mattered not, for they all brought with them the calamity that was dragon fire. We had no idea how a wizard was able to command these beasts of power, but the damage they wrought to Diagon Alley – not just to buildings, but to its spirit – can never be healed."

"After fire, came blood. Through the use of fangs, claws, spikes, hooves and teeth, the Dark Lord sought dominion over anyone who dared to associate themselves with the protection and sheltering of anything related to Muggles. Hordes of vampires, werewolves and other twisted creatures arrived in a tide of darkness, attacking every single Muggle and Muggle-born owned institution across the land. The rivers turned red for seven days and seven nights."

"After blood, came ice. Creatures of nightmare, harbingers of misery, stealers of souls: the Dementors themselves. They swarmed over anything related to the Ministry, never attacking, always watching. At this point after losing Azkaban, we had simply lost too many. Not just within the Order, but all those who stood for the justice. Our spirit was already weakening, but this single move entirely shattered what hope people had. Those who stood tall died fighting in filth and grime; and those who cowered in their homes died equally in squalor."

Ariana had been holding her breath the whole time he was recounting the harrowing tale, causing her already-pale face to whiten ever further. Voldemort had never used these magical beasts as part of his arsenal during the First War.

"So, to reiterate, right now it's just you and me who's left," Augustus flashed her a grim smile, "And we have a daunting task ahead of us, to cut of the head off the serpent that commands this army, one of the most dangerous wizards to ever exist: the Dark Lord Voldemort."

Whatever respect and admiration Ariana had for this particular wizard multiplied tenfold, the way he was unflinchingly talking about his endeavours to singlehandedly save an entire nation and undergo an obvious suicide mission was something she needed to hear to bolster her own spirit. Just as she was about to wholeheartedly agree with his cause, she paused, realizing she had forgotten something extremely crucial.

"There is something you need to know about Voldemort," she started slowly and carefully, "Killing him will take more than just cutting off his head. In his youth, he came across the existence of one of the darkest artifacts known to mankind, one which he–"

"You knew, didn't you?" Augustus interrupted in a strange voice, "You knew all along about his Horcruxes?"

Ariana let out a breathless gasp of shock from the revelation, "H-How do you know about them?" she asked urgently in an undertone, as if the walls themselves had ears, "Did Albus share that information with you or–"

She got no further as Augustus suddenly jumped to his feet and brandished his wand directly at her face in what seemed like extreme hostility.

"So, you were aware of his invincibility after all," the wizard snarled in a sudden rage, the tip of his wand glowing ominously bright, "Even though we all swore oaths to die as brothers and sisters on the battlefield, you and Albus considered us nothing but cannon fodder, am I right? Merely a distraction for you as you played your own game at the expense of everything else that matters."

Ariana did not say anything in response. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't, for everything the wizard was saying was the undiluted truth. From the way he was acting, she guessed that he must had figured this out independently. She sat in complete silence, accepting a justly deserved barrage of yells and screams as the other described the gruesome fates of deceased members of the Order in extreme detail. Skin flaying, bones breaking, organs rupturing, wounds purulent – lives upon lives were spent needlessly for a cause that amounted to nothing.

After a few minutes Augustus' anger slowly drained away once he realized what he was doing, for his sallow face then took on a look of unreplicable weariness.

"My sincere apologies for that embarrassing display, Harold," Augustus uttered in a disjointed voice after the outburst as he dropped roughly back down onto the cold floor, looking entirely spent, "Months of solitude have left my sanity… in question."

Ariana on the other hand, had just been competely re-energized at the talk of Horcruxes. With great difficulty, she pushed everything else to the back of her mind, the deaths, the tortures, the sorrow, and focused on what mattered now.

"Gus," she started with a strong voice, curiously noting that his ears perked up from the nickname, "Tell me how you found out about the Horcruxes. How many have you located so far? Have you destroyed any while I was gone? Please go into detail, I need to know."

Augustus' eyes were fixated directly on her, his heavy eyelids a fraction too slow to blink, his irises too stationary. It was as if his brain was suffering a massive short circuit as he was mulling over her request. After a full minute of tense silence only then was life restored to his body, his eyes sliding back into focus.

"I propose a trade of information," he finally answered, "I will tell you everything I know, but in return, you shall have to answer just one question of mine."

"Very well," Ariana instantly agreed, not caring about her side of the bargain as whatever it was, the Horcruxes carried a higher priority. She then grew deadly serious, "But you first."

With a nod, the Unspeakable then laid out his machinations and schemes in their entireties from start to finish.

"The story all starts with you actually, one which began nearly one and a half years ago. Amongst the many you killed and injured during the Dark Lord's unsuccessful raid on Diagon Alley, you chanced across a certain individual named Bellatrix Lestrange, whom you inflicted irrevocable brain damage upon. A stroke of serendipity came my way when her husband, Rodolphus Lestrange, revealed a hidden weakness in his character: he wanted to restore her sanity at any cost."

"Using my influence as a high ranking Unspeakable, I assured him that I had the wherewithal to fix his little problem. Hoping to gain a life debt from either the Lestrange or the Black families – bloodlines which value family above everything else, might I add – it was only obvious what I needed to do. Using an ancient artefact called a cosmolabe we found in Britain nearly five centuries ago, I managed to convince him that I was the only one who could wield it competently in the Department of Mysteries."

Augustus paused in his speech before reaching under his filthy bed and pulling out a gold disc the size of his palm that housed ritualistic scribblings embossed on both of its sides. He held it up to the light, causing it to shimmer iridescently as he continued.

"Don't ask me how, but this thing is actually sentient. It carries unusual dimorphic properties, dictated on whether you use its ventral or dorsal side. When activating the ritual on top, it has the ability to wipe a brain completely clean of memories. Inversely, it also can also create powerful emotional blocks and even insert new modes of thinking. With this entity in my possession, I could realistically reverse the catastrophic mental damage."

"All was normal when I arrived at the wretched abode of the Blacks near a year ago. The initial sight of my patient was rather jarring I'd have to admit, for she was tied down tightly to her bed, writhing endlessly and screaming something about the Dark Lord over and over again. I knew that the quicker I worked, the greater my reward would be. Somehow, I also managed to convince her family that the cosmolabe worked best with fewer people in its proximity, a move that garnered me complete access to Bellatrix's mind without interruptions. Although I initially sought to restore her sanity, the temptation to visit her most secretive memories was too overpowering."

"Murders, deceptions, kidnapping, torture, she did it all for the Dark Lord… to my absolute disgust in some cases. How can she so willingly kill another Pureblood when their entire cause was the protection of magical blood and culture? It still makes no sense to this very day. Anyway, I digress. There was one particular memory she seemed to covet above the rest: it was of the Dark Lord entrusting a very special item to her. I didn't really get the significance of this until later when I began to research what it was based on its appearance. Imagine my amazement when I found out it was Helga Hufflepuff's Cup. When I discovered this fact, my gut instinct told me this was something that could turn the very tides of war."

"I began to systematically investigate every possible location she would keep this prized cup hidden. My path inexorably led me to her treasury in Gringotts, where I was forced to use my rather extensive knowledge of the wants and desires of Goblins to gain access to it. I had no intention of starting another Goblin revolution from my interference with their business, but let's just say… I paid the right prices to the right people to create just enough chaos to get me in unnoticed and unscathed."

"This was where I won. After successfully reverting Bellatrix back to sanity after discreetly ravaging her mind, I was offered, rather predictably, a life debt in response by the Black paterfamilias. Seemingly magnanimous, I rejected such a heavy gift and instead left with something of my choosing, one such item that they made me perform a magical oath to not tell others about. It was something of lesser value to them than a Life Debt: a book of Black family spells – but to me, it was of far greater import."

"As per my predictions, the magical traps and pitfalls placed in Bellatrix's vault were only of Black origin, for she assumed that no one else but immediate family knew about these protective curses and wards. Shutting myself in there for a few days, I carefully combed through the entire room whilst deactivating layers of magic where appropriate until I finally found what I was looking for. Everything was then put back in their original places before I absconded with the cup."

"After much experimentation and research, the answers were still out of my grasp even though I could feel the powerful magic that lay nestled within. I was forced to bring the cup to an… acquaintance of mine, who immediately identified it as a Horcrux. In hindsight, I maybe shouldn't have brought it to him, for he seemed quite distressed when I told him it belonged to the Dark Lord. Potion Masters, smarter than they look, eh? Thanks to him, I performed more tests and concluded that a high-powered spell that magically extinguishes life could destroy this soul repository."

Augustus' teeth gleamed in the light from a savage and triumphant grin, "The Killing Curse was sufficient it seemed, for Helga Hufflepuff's Cup imploded in a whirlwind of dust and a blinding flash of light. Thus, the intricate plan I had set in motion so long ago finally came to fruition, bringing us one step closer to victory."

His smile faltered.

"Not to bore you with minor details, but I was eventually discovered as a spy when Voldemort captured Marlene McKinnon. Out of all the prisoners they took captive, he went for her, and only her, breaking her mind in search of every last bit of information she possessed. It almost looked as if he had a personal vendetta against her for some reason. Anyway, I too was caught and tortured for some time but not before I managed to escape. I have been on the run ever since, always by myself, always hunting for more Horcruxes by capturing Death Eaters and checking to see if the Dark Lord had entrusted them with other precious artefacts."

"Although headquarters has been abandoned, I often frequent it for temporary lodging." The wizard took a deep breath, "And… that's every last thing I know related about Horcruxes."

Ariana was uncharacteristically silent during the entire narrative, her thoughts churning in her head like thrashing waves in a turbulent sea. Minutes of silence stretched onwards until she eventually pulled herself out of her mindscape once she realized the other's speech was over.

"Thank you, Gus," she said solemnly, "Through your hardship and strife, we may just be able to salvage this seemingly unwinnable situation. And since you have upheld your side of the proposal more than what I could ever imagine, I will answer any and all of your questions to the best of my abilities."

Augustus eyed her carefully, scanning her face as if searching for something as he laid his only request bare.

"Who are you really?"

Ariana opened her mouth to automatically spin a half-truth, just as she had practiced so many times, but was cut off before she could say anything.

"Enough with the barefaced lies," Augustus demanded fiercely, "I always knew there was something off with you from the second we met. It merely took simple observation to notice the hidden flask you always carried with you, the slight grimace from when you took a swig, and the lingering smell that only one who is attuned to such vapours of the Polyjuice Potion can identify. I could ask for so more much from you, demand that you explain your yearlong absence or even force you to fight for me, but all I want is the truth. The day grows old, as I do. I don't care who you are or what you are, I just want to know the real you."

Ariana bowed her head, slight sorrow filling her from the impassioned way the wizard was speaking. It was extremely obvious to what he really meant. Augustus knew there was an extremely high chance of him dying at the hands of Voldemort or his lackeys in the near future, and all he wanted before he crossed the mortal realm was the truth. She would give him that; she owed that much to him for his courageous acts at the very least.

"Do you know how to perform Thief's Downfall?" she asked, remembering about a particular spell or ritual – she wasn't sure what it was – that washes away all enchantment and magical concealment.

Augustus smirked confidently, "Did you not listen to my story at all? I was at Gringotts only recently. I have that particular counter-spell from their security system etched into my brain for the rest of eternity."

With that he retrieved his wand from the floor before delicately waving in the air as a conductor would to an orchestra, eyes fully shut as he drew complex runes in the air with precisely timed swishes and flicks from pure memory. It took a minute for the effect to activate, but Ariana knew exactly it started as she soon began to shiver uncontrollably, feeling as if a bucket of cold water was slowly being poured over her head.

Feeling her body slowly shrink in size, she thanked Merlin himself that she had the foresight to change out of those ghastly clothes she had been given in the Forbidden Forest and replace them with a Muggle t-shirt and jeans she had found in her trunk. As the transformation neared its end, she found herself drowning in a sea of clothes two sizes too big. She then looked expectantly at the other wizard, who had yet to open his eyes.

"The name's Ariana," she greeted warmly, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

She had never noticed it until now, but her voice no longer was childishly high-pitched, but rather it sounded light and ethereal, as if her words themselves were floating on the back of a stirring breeze.

Augustus was finishing up the last few motions of his wand to complete the counter-spell, "I always suspected you were a woman," he chuckled in amusement with eyes still closed, "Even though your mannerisms made it extremely tough for me to come to that conclusion. Is there a particular reason why you constantly disguise yourself? Or–"

It was at this point his eyes opened.

There was a delicious moment where Augustus' face washed blank with confusion, like his brain cogs couldn't turn fast enough to take in the information in front of him. He was frozen for maybe three whole seconds before the look of utter disorientation vanished from his eyes. Then, as if unable to distinguish hallucination from reality, his hand stretched out and lightly poked her in the cheek to confirm her tangibility.

"A Veela," he breathed in awe as his eyes assessed her fully from top to bottom, "And a child to boot."

Before the young witch could get anything in, he burst into uncontrollable laughter. It would have been a pleasant sound to her ears if not for the way he was also on the floor and thumping his fists on the ground in what seemed like utmost hilarity.

"I'm not a Veela, and I'm not a child," Ariana muttered crossly as she folded her arms across her chest, not too pleased from the initial reaction, "I'm already thirteen."

Her comment only sent him to new bouts of unrestrained laughter. "M-Morgana save me," he managed to wheeze between breaths, "You're younger… than my niece."

When he said that, something within him clicked and he instantly sobered, ceasing all signs of mirth. No laughter issued from his mouth, no amusement lay in his black irises.

"You're younger than my niece," he repeated in disbelief, more quietly, more gravely this time round, "The Butcher of Diagon Alley is younger than my niece."

"The… what of Diagon Alley?"

Augustus eyed her warily.

"You killed and mutilated many wizards and witches on that fateful day, and in doing so gained a fearsome reputation and a rightly deserved moniker: The Butcher. You're the Undesirable Number One in the eyes of all families that you left behind, the Death Eaters, and the non-Death Eaters alike who are vying for Pureblood supremacy. You could imagine their unbridled anguish when they realized that none of the other members in the Order could give any reliable information on you."

The wizard tapped his chin thoughtfully, "Also, where were you?" he added curiously after a pause, suddenly changing the topic and alluding to her absence.

"In a magically induced coma. I awoke only recently," Ariana answered tersely, deciding that the half-truth would suffice. She refused to comment any further on the matter and looked to one side to avoid his gaze, causing a short silence to stain the air.

The Unspeakable the gasped as he began to connect a couple of dots floating around in his mind, "Hold on, are you the young witch that was once known as Ariana Peverell? The one who was orphaned in Scotland by rogue Death Eaters?" Augustus spoke quickly, "The Ariana who was adopted into the Potter family late last year?"

The respective young witch blinked in astonishment as she looked back at him.

"How'd you know so much about me?"

The wizard shifted uncomfortably on the spot, as if vacillating on what to say. "Would you like the good news or the bad news first?" he finally replied, avoiding her question together.

"Good only please, and spare me with the rest," Ariana said with a sigh as she slumped tiredly against the cold sandstone walls, "I've heard enough of the bad stuff today."

"If you insist," the wizard easily complied, "Well Miss Potter, aside from owning an official seat in Wizengamot, you've also become extremely wealthy."

Ariana's heart missed a beat, her brilliant mind already latching on to what the other was really saying. There was only one scenario in the whole world where this was possible.

"I-Is… my family…?" she trailed off weakly.

"I'm sorry," was all the other could say in sympathy.

Her tongue was heavy. "H-How..." and yet again she couldn't finish her sentence.

"Your parents were rushed to St. Mungo's a while ago with an entirely new strain of Dragon Pox. The disease had somehow become completely resistant to the standard healing methods and could not be treated. They passed on soon after. To make matters worse, the mutated strain was also highly aggressive and contagious. Subsequently, almost a third of all Healers and mediwizards on the Second Floor of St. Mungo's contracted it, many of them joining your parents shortly after."

As if the knife in Ariana's heart couldn't twist any further, the wizard continued.

"Earlier this year we also had a fresh group of recruits into the Order, all whom were basically kids straight out of Hogwarts. I was strongly opposed to their joining but Albus was firm in his decision, unmoved by any manner of logic or reasoning. Thankfully, I was proven wrong, for they all were brilliant young wizards and witches that contributed greatly to the war effort."

Augustus looked sideways.

"Unfortunately, they were all wiped out in an ambush a few months ago," he continued quietly, "For all the courage and bravery they showed the world, it was in the end their undoing."

His voice was solemn now as he gazed powerfully at her.

"Thus, you are now officially Lady Potter, the last of her bloodline."

Ariana couldn't breathe. A vortex of emotions clouded her senses, trapping her in nightmares of failures and defeats. In that moment of loss, her world collapsed – where there was light became shadows, the sharp throb in her chest coming and going like waves of frigid sand.

Terrified as the walls of her mind began to close in upon her, she did the only thing she could.

She ran.


Augustus screamed at her to stop, but to no avail, for the young witch was gone in the blink of an eye. There were still many magical traps active in the manor that he needed to warn her about and objects of a volatile nature that could explode at the slightest touch. He had safely disarmed some of them whilst stalking her from the shadows beforehand, but most were still primed and ready. There was also the ever-present threat of Death Eaters if she ever slipped up whilst talking, even to herself.

He jumped to his feet, cursing endlessly under his breath as he tried to call her back before she did something incredibly stupid. His feet burned with each step as he limped after the retreating noise of her footsteps, cursing the debilitative state of his body.

His captured stay at the Malfoy Manor had left him… unwhole.

An emaciated, mottled body harboured a fine meshwork of red threads, as if tracing every vein and artery his body in a vivid red. The cicatrices on his arms and back were sinuous and sleek like a hundred silvery pink snakes, as if something had wormed into and under his skin and destroyed everything within. The thing he hated the most though, were the uncontrollable twitches on the left side of his body. Prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus it seemed, had curious side effects.

According to wards that were tied only to him, he knew that the newly appointed materfamilias of the Potter household still hadn't left the house even after five minutes of searching. Emboldened by this knowledge, he kept looking around until he chanced upon a newly created trail of footsteps in the grime and vortices of disturbed dust. Carefully following it, he eventually found Ariana in an old storage room, one which was thankfully devoid of traps.

And what a wretched sight she was, the poor creature, sitting on the floor against the wall by her lonesome. Surprisingly, she was neither crying nor whimpering as any other girl her age would do if someone told her that her whole family had just died. Rather, she was just sitting down silently, staring darkly at some spherical object she clutched tightly in her hands.

He shuffled over towards her seated form and dropped down heavily beside her, unable to suppress a heavy grunt of pain from the simple act. He had no clue what to say or how to be sympathetic, though he had tried very hard to be; the realm of succour and cheer had never been a constant in his life. Before he decided on what was the best thing to say, a small voice spoke up, barely audible even in the sombre silence.

"Why… why me? Why is it always me?"

He could not bring himself to look at her, for an ugly feeling would stir within him. It was jealously. It was the very reason why he assumed she was a Veela initially, for her perfect skin seemed to glow in the moonlit room, as if she were otherworldly. This was not about vanity by any standards, but about how he wished he was in her position rather than the friable condition his body was in – one which he knew would break down sooner rather than later.

That aside, he wanted her to stop blaming herself, an inferred fact which was painfully obvious from the way her face was scrunched up miserably. She was a powerful witch, that he knew, and her fighting techniques were similar to Albus. It was plain as day that the revered wizard had taken her under his wing and honed her become a living weapon. It was at this very moment the loathed Albus. To train a witch as young as her in warfare, involve her in missions that could likely spell her doom, and burden her with the countless issues that were plaguing the wizarding world was something that was completely unacceptable to his moral compass.

Augustus gave a tired sigh and finally replied.

"We are all the product of our own choices, Lady Potter," he said softly into the night, "Whatever the world throws at us, is it we who are the creative forces in our life, through our own decisions rather than our conditions or environment. Don't waste your life blaming yourself because of circumstances that you had no power to change, for there is no greater cage than one of mental bondage: the condemnation of self. It is like a poison that will drive you mad if you let it, to be free you have to–"

A quiet laugh, a musical tone that danced lightly around the room, interrupted his speech.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're terrible at this?" the girl commented softly, the faint traces of a teasing smile etched on her face as her eyes sought his.

Augustus gave an embarrassed laugh before banishing his efforts immediately, deeply glad he had somehow lightened her mood.

"I'll have to admit, I always left that sort of things to others, Lady Potter."

"Oh, please don't call me that," she instantly replied before pulling a strangely wistful face, "I'm Ariana... just Ariana."

Augustus hummed neutrally in response, quietly refusing to comply with her request. His respect for the Old Ways and the strict hierarchal systems the Purebloods dealt with was simply too strong. From the tone of the young witch's voice, she regarded it as a mere title, one which carried little to no weight; she was but a teenager, how could she possibly know the significance? To him however, the head of a Pureblood household was a heavy responsibility that entailed political strife, complex social engineering, economic machinations, and all other issues that lay in-between.

As his eyes strayed downward, he then saw something that caused every single muscle in his wasted body to freeze in astonishment and disbelief.

In the young witch's tight grasp lay the McKinnon's prized Time-Turner, beheld in all its glory. That was not what shocked him however, it was the fact that the sands of time within the hourglass was rippling and churning akin to the untameable waves of a stormy sea.

The magical device was fully operational.

"W-What …" he trailed off weakly, struggling to form a coherent sentence.

The young witch noticed at his visibly panicked state and frowned deeply, "What's the matter?"

This was an issue that had not just been plaguing Britain, but also the entire world as a whole. Every single Time-Turner on the planet had mysteriously stopped functioning almost two and a half years ago. No matter the degree of testing or harshness of trials the temporal specialists of the world performed, their deactivation has still been shrouded in mystery to this very day. Creating new Time-Turners yielded no results as well.

Augustus' eyes widened comically as the jigsaw pieces in his mind slowly pieced themselves together. He remembered seemingly irrelevant information from a particular wizard who was greatly attuned to disturbances of magic report an extreme coalescence of Old Magic near the outskirts of Hogwarts at roughly the same time. This knowledge was later quietly disregarded at the request of… Albus Dumbledore. And since now he knew Harold was Ariana, that she was linked directly to Albus, and that she was a student in Hogwarts, the picture was slowly beginning to paint itself.

The stopping of the Time-Turners. The odd case of Ariana Peverell, the disconcerting lack of movement in regard to the investigation of her background, how she knew he was a Death Eater. The sudden change in Albus' socio-economic policies and his grand plan to embrace the Muggles and Muggle-borns into wizarding society, one which he boldly presented in Wizengamot. The sharp increase in failure for all Death Eater raids, the bizarre decrease in civilian causalities, the Dark Lord's sudden fixation on Hogwarts, the corruption of timelines, the numerous prophecies that links the world's end to some unknown child, and so much more.

All of these things were interconnected and could be linked back to a single person: this very girl.

As her unnaturally flawless face titled sideways in concern, the silvery luminance seemed to bestow a shimmering halo above her head, as if blessed and hewn from the stars themselves. It was at this point Augustus felt very small and insignificant, like he was in the presence a divine entity.

"Who are you?" he breathed in both terror and wonder.

Before the other could reply, a most peculiar sound reached their ears. It sounded like a faint clap of thunder originating far into the distance, but one which didn't reverberate. The noise then repeated itself, again and again in rapid succession, but each time growing louder.

The young witch had no clue what that sound portended by the visible confusion on her face, but this was something he knew all too well. He ignored her stream of questions as he hastily jumped to his feet, holding his wand aloft and muttering the activation phrases for all his defensive wards around the manor. He didn't how the Death Eaters had found them, but he highly suspected Ariana had somehow triggered a leftover magical sensor.

The sound was almost deafening now, resembling something constantly travelling at the speed of sound to create miniature sonic booms. The thunderous cacophony ended with a resounding crash originating from the grounds outside, one which was so powerful it caused the decrepit mansion to shake ever so slightly.

"W-Was that a meteor?" Ariana stammered in heightened confusion, trying to make a head or tails out of the situation.

Augustus shook his head in a negative as old rage surged through his veins.

"Even worse, Rodolophus."

"…As in Rolodphus Lestrange?"

"The very same, I will explain later. Enough talk, we must Apparate out of here now," he commanded with a voice that booked no rebuttal as he marched over and tightly grabbed onto her shoulder. A fraction of a second before they were spatially translocated, an indescribable feeling of coldness encased his entire body, causing him to shiver on the spot.

Dammit. He cursed mentally as he recognized the unique magical signature. Amycus Carrow has gotten quicker with erecting his anti-Apparation wards.

As he heard the front door of the manor burst open and a flurry of footsteps follow through, he instantly knew that they in deep trouble. Garbled and unintelligible voices filtering through the floorboards that grew louder with each passing second kicked his mind into overdrive.

They somehow knew the exact room they were in. If he were alone, he could've done a multitude of things to keep himself secret, but with another person with him, there was only one way they could win and keep to the plan of destroying the rest of the Dark Lord's Horcruxes.

Fighting to distract them so that Ariana could escape safely.

With that resolve, he began to work with the precious minute they still possessed. "Ariana, get behind that thing right now," he barked urgently, pointing to a blackened couch that was large enough to hide her. He then dropped to the floor and pulled out a makeshift knife carved from a piece of tempered glass from his robes.

"Damn you, you blind fools," he muttered angrily as he bent down on the floor and started scratching wavelike runes on the wooden floorboards, "Why do none of you understand that the Dark Lord will only doom us all?"

His plan was simple. First, hide the young girl behind a couch and secure her to it with a Cushioning Charm. When he inevitably fought with the Death Eaters, he then would pretend to use a blasting spell at her location whilst secretly activating the runes he had just made on the floorboards to propel her safely out the window and away from the manor.

Although he didn't want to be captured again, he knew she was a far smarter and capable person than he was, something he had learned when dealing with her as Harold for over a year. Frankly, it didn't matter what happened to him, for he had already passed all the knowledge he possessed unto her. It was her journey now, not his.

The sound of glass scratching against wood finally came to an end. Although only thirty seconds had passed, dark rings had formed around his eyes from magical exhaustion and from the power he had poured into the magical symbols. When he looked up however, he was unable to stop a noise of panic.

"LADY POTTER, please get behind that couch," he cried urgently, unable to comprehend why the young girl was still in her original seated position and in full view to anyone who entered the room. After seeing no response from her strangely hunched form, he pushed himself to his feet and limped over to her as fast as he could.

Only upon drawing closer he realized with absolute horror what she was doing: she was twisting the rings of the object she was holding in her hands. He hastily grabbed one of her arms in an attempt to stop her, but it was too late, for the sands of time had already started to swirl within its glassy confines and its metallic rings began to gyrate.

A fearful sound of an explosion caused the young witch to lose her focus and look up at him, only to realise that she was connected with him. The noise of shattered glass, the horse howl of Death Eaters, the rushing of footsteps, and the sudden blast of hot spells all seemed too close, but it mattered not, for space and time in all their might could not stop the events to come.

In a flash of light, they vanished on the spot.


A/N: Hi folks! I know some of you haven't read the previous chapters in quite some time, so for added convenience I'll just point out the scenes related to this chapter. Non-functioning Time-Turners: Chapter 14 & Chapter 19. Augustus' plans: Chapter 20 & Chapter 30. I hope this is of benefit to some of you (looking at you crimson hearts), and hope you enjoy the rest of your day!

P.S. AvalonTheLadyKiller: Noo don't hex me just yet! I'm talking, I'm talking! :P