Everything is J.K. Rowlings. I only claim the plot. Everything else is hers, all the characters and the magic, all of it. Please let me know what you think though, I encourage feedback of all kinds, just be nice about it!

I apologize. I know that I said that I would have this up the week after the last one. And it was written. But then I rewrote bits of it and then I tried adding bits and then those bits didn't work and so I got rid of them and went back to what I had originally, rinse-repeat. The moral of the story, I went back and forth and changed and rewrote pieces of this chapter multiple times because I couldn't get satisfied with it. But, I need to move on and focus on the following parts and I can't do this while looking at this current chapter. So, here you are.

Also, I think one chapter a month will be more realistic for me, at least that is what I'm going to aim for. As always, I hope you enjoy this chapter and let me know your thoughts!

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The darkness of Death pulsed and Harry shivered against the familiar chill; the burning white pillars of flame provided the only light. "Speak your questions, Child."

Harry nodded and took a breath. "Is it – is it normal for Necromancers to not get sad over people dying? I mean, my family died and I…I still don't know how to feel."

"How is one supposed to feel?"

Harry sighed. Maybe, like with Marvolo, Death wasn't exactly the proper source for asking about reactions to death. Death was pretty biased, he supposed. "I don't know, sad? Upset?"

"You are my Child and so you are given an understanding of myself and my realm to a degree that no other holds. This provides different insight and understanding that humans do not and cannot maintain or comprehend."

It wasn't a great answer, but Harry didn't bother hoping for more. "I almost Claimed Dumbledore," he admitted quietly.

"This I know," Death replied. The layered voice sounding in his head had become so familiar to him in the past few months that Harry wondered how he hadn't always known it. "The Tainted Light will be mine soon but not now."

"Surprising," Harry commented with a frown. "I figured you'd be happy to take him whenever you could, so long as I met the timeline."

"His Life will be mine," Death repeated, the darkness pulsing calmly. "However, there are still things that need to be done."

"Will you tell me what those things are?"

"No."

Harry groaned softly. Of course not, because that would be too easy. "Right. Thanks."

"You are welcome."

Harry rolled his eyes. The darkness pulsed and flickered as if in amusement and Harry glared into the stretched shadows. "Right so there was a vote for the State of Emergency and I managed to convince people to hold off but my school vote was postponed too." Death remained silent, forming a humanoid shape and then dissolving in steady increments. Harry knew that Death didn't really care and that the actions of the everyday lives of people were of little consequence but Harry still couldn't help telling Death about what happened, almost involuntarily he felt compelled to talk to Death about Life. He wondered what it was he sought: approval? pride? Suggestions? Maybe he'd never know. "Well, the Wizengamot wishes for me to gain the alliance of the vampires and the Veela and the werewolves. And they want me to talk to the Dementors too."

"Something that I demanded of you for this new year anyway."

"Yeah. Isn't that great? For once all my jobs are in agreement with each other."

"Being my Child is not a job," Death said coldly and Harry shivered as the darkness pressed against him. "It is what you are."

"Right, yes, totally agree." The words tripped and stumbled as they fell from his mouth but the pressure eased and Harry sucked in a breath. "Yeah, I just meant it was nice that I could do some of your work openly."

"This is something my previous Children also mentioned," Death said, "that my work needed to be done in the shadows. So long as it is done, I care not for the methods."

Harry didn't feel like explaining the complexity of human politics to an eternal, non-corporeal being and so just nodded. And thought over what else he needed to talk to Death about, he felt like so much had happened in the past month. "So, Marvolo has Horcruxes, that is what you were wanting me to fix?"

"Yes, Child. Three have been returned."

"Which three?" Harry asked eagerly. "We had worked that out for ourselves but we couldn't determine what the third was. There was the ring and the diary, but what was the third?"

There was silence and the shadows stretched slowly and pulled back just as slowly into the vague figure of a human. This repeated at least ten times before Death spoke again. "A Child of Mine is to be whole. They are the vessel of my will and the container of my power. It is not possible for them to contain anything else but my essence."

Harry frowned. What the bloody hell did that mean? He was talking about Horcruxes, not himself. Harry sucked in a breath and his blood ran cold as the realization hit him like a stunner to the chest. He lifted a cold hand to his forehead and traced the lightning scar with trembling fingers. A scar that hadn't bothered him in Marvolo's presence since his Inheritance, a scar that had allowed him to slip into Marvolo's thoughts and feel his emotions. Tears sprung to his eyes and his gut twisted.

He had to voice it, had to have absolute confirmation, but just the thought of voicing it made it too real. A numbness crept through his limbs, he felt lightheaded. He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "It was me, wasn't it."

"Yes." Harry breathed out shakily. Holy bloody fuck. "A most exceptional occurrence," Death continued, "only a potential Child, would have had the necessary magic and composition to even manage it." Why the fuck was it always him? What Harry wouldn't give to not be so fucking exceptional, just once.

Running hands through his hair and pulling on it in frustration to distract him from nausea rolling in his stomach, Harry sucked in deep breaths. It didn't matter much now, he supposed. The Horcrux had been out of him for months now and considering that neither he nor Marvolo had known about it meant that it hadn't actually done anything to him or influenced him. Right? He hadn't acted like an evil monster, so the soul piece couldn't have affected him. At least he didn't think it had. Memories of anger and rage that would hit him suddenly during the last year, the dreams he'd had, and the vision of seeing through Nagini's eyes, all swept through him. Harry felt cold, his breathing became shallow pants. No, no, no. No! Harry sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. This changed nothing. It couldn't. There wasn't much he could do about the past. So he had to focus on the future. Straightening his back and shifting back into a more comfortable position, Harry refused to let the news haunt him. He would tell Marvolo; they had sworn to not keep secrets only a few weeks ago after all, but thinking about it would only send him down an existential crisis spiral which would do no good. So no, he would not think about it. He would not. At least, not right now. He'd break down later.

"Right. Is there anything else you wish me to do?" Harry asked stiffly, feeling a bit numb as he stared at his hands as they rested on his knees.

"Continue as you are. Contact your subjects and study the Runes. Be well, my Child."

Harry nodded and watched distractedly as the darkness faded and the pillars of white fire shrank back to standard candle flames, flickering weakly. Harry shivered and pushed himself to his feet, stumbling out of the room and dragging his feet up the stairs towards his room.

Things would be better in the morning. It had been four days since the Wizengamot session and he and Marvolo had been working on gaining ground once again. They had meetings with the creatures scheduled for the last few weeks of January and Yaxley would be released into the Auror Department within the next day with spells modifying his experience of the past few weeks and removing his memory of Harry's involvement.

Yawning, Harry made the trek into his room and sluggishly pulled off the white shirt and pulled on some sleep pants before crawling under the covers. Tiredly, he congratulated himself on his ability to change clothes after a meeting with Death. He certainly hadn't been able to accomplish that those first few times. Raaja hissed at him in annoyance for disturbing his sleep on the pillow next to Harry's and Harry hissed an apology before slipping off to sleep himself.

"You would not believe the latest that I heard just the other day," Madeline Brocklehurst said with a laugh, her tea sloshing in her cup at the movement.

Sylvia stirred her tea from where she sat on the sofa next to Amelia, an absent, placid smile on her face. "Is it about our dear Harry again?"

Amelia smiled absently at the ongoings. It was the weekly tea, where the Ladies of society would gather and gossip, this week it was held at Abbott Manor. Despite her curiosity, she struggled to pull her mind from the stresses of work.

"When is it not?" Narcissa Malfoy asked with a light laugh sharing a look with Aurora Greengrass and Pricilla Pyrites. The woman certainly looked the part of the Pureblood Lady, her hair was pulled high atop her head in a way that only magic could achieve and her smile was perfectly practiced.

Amelia mused that it wasn't abnormal for Harry to be the main topic of gossip especially since he had claimed his Inheritance and Wizengamot seats and started making waves. It had been two weeks since the State of Emergency postponement and everyone was still talking about how Harry argued against it. The reporters and Ministry workers and the people she passed on the street. Given her Auror and law enforcement background, she fully understood the temptation of giving in to the height of emotions and taking things a step too far. She commended Harry on his ability, despite how obvious his pain was at speaking against it.

"Do tell, Madeline, don't dangle gossip in such a way," Augusta chided, reaching for another biscuit. The woman was the oldest of the bunch of them and had been participating in these weekly teas since before Amelia had been able to participate.

"Well," Madeline said, leaning forward slightly to impart the latest news, her ginger hair hanging loose around her shoulders, "I was over at the Brown Estate just the other day visiting with Abigail while Lord Brown entertained. Well, he was quite adamant that the only reason Lord Potter argued against the vote was that he was conspiring with You Know Who himself to stop the vote, only to oust Chief Warlock from his seat and claim it himself."

That startled a laugh out of Amelia, as well as all of the other women in the room. "While I don't deny that Lord Potter would no doubt love to oust Dumbledore, I don't think he'd want the position himself," Aurora replied dismissively, readjusting her pristine robes.

"Besides, he holds more power with his seats than he ever would as Chief Warlock," Priscilla added with a wave of her hand. Priscilla was a newcomer to the weekly teas, only starting to attend in the last few months. Her pointed face and incessant need to interject had always irritated Amelia during their shared years in school and it seemed it had only gotten worse with age.

"Who would the next Chief Warlock be, do you think?" Sylvia asked innocently, nibbling on a sandwich. Amelia glanced at her best friend and smirked. Behind those innocently, naive eyes and face was a woman as cunning and sharp as any snake Amelia had met. She'd tried convincing Sylvia to join her in the Auror Corp after graduation because a woman of her keen mind would be an asset but Sylvia hated the physical labor of it all.

Amelia watched Narcissa and Aurora sharing the loveseat across from her over the rim of her teacup. The afternoon sunlight filtering through the many windows caught the edge of her monocle but she'd spelled her eyepiece against glares years ago, along with the other wards and runes she'd added when she first started wearing it. Aurora jokingly suggested Lord Blishwick – a little shrimp of a man in the Dark Faction who squeaked almost as much as he talked – much to the amusement of the rest of the room. Laughing lightly as she blew on her fresh cup of tea, Amelia couldn't help wondering how much the pristine Pureblood Ladies knew and what was hiding behind their carefully constructed masks.

Did they know that Lord Yaxley currently sat in the holding cells of the Auror Office? And wasn't that some gossip that Amelia was tempted to share. More tempted than she'd ever been in her entire career because that information and the information that Yaxley had could topple the British Wizarding World, for good or ill she still wasn't sure. However, those in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement weren't allowed to discuss cases or suspects with the populace, at least not the details, press conferences allowed generalities, and only those of highest clearance – such as herself or the Head Auror – were allowed to hold those. Never before had Amelia been more tested in that honor-bound commitment than she was now.

One week ago, Lord Corban Yaxley walked into the Auror Office, demanded her presence, as well as, the Head Aurors, and blatantly declared that he had participated in the attack on Privet Drive and that Dumbledore had put him up to it.

Admittedly, Amelia had been stunned at Yaxleys' shouted boast. It had been a week but she was still reeling over it. And she knew that if she let slip the news then it could be the nail on the head that crashed Dumbledore's ridiculous pedestal, but to do so would compromise her morals and ethics and her integrity. So Amelia kept silent and let her mind drift as the ladies continued to gossip.

Every day this past week, Amelia had questioned Yaxley, and every time he told her variations of the same thing: The Dark Lord had no involvement. He and Dumbledore planned it all. He reached out to Dumbledore. He did it because he hated Harry.

Yaxley said nothing else, aside from demanding more comfortable accommodations – which was ignored – or for better food – which was also ignored. And given that he was a Pureblood Lord he had to give his own permission for Veriateserum and he denied it, so she wasn't able to get more information.

This needed a trial, and quickly, which was why Amelia was handling the reports, which wasn't something one of her position typically did but she couldn't trust any other. There would be none of that ridiculously drawn-out nonsense regarding Kingsley and Alastor. She'd wanted to put them on trial shortly after Harry had brought their actions to her attention but she'd been derailed at every turn and it had taken months to finally start the trial. The derailment had the smell of lemon drops all over it and Amelia had seethed almost every night.

"Narcissa do you plan on hosting your Spring Ball?" Madeline asked and Amelia forced her mind to be present in this moment. Her night would already be long and arduous – as all of the nights the past week had been – and she deserved a frivolous break.

"Yes, however, the Flint Wedding will surely take precedence in the planning," Narcissa replied.

"Oh, yes, I heard that the Heir Flint and the youngest Carrow were to finally marry," Priscilla said giddily.

"That is such a smart match," Aurora commented idly. "I can't wait for the time when my Daphne and young Theodore are able to finally wed. Have they set a date?"

"It will be in March," Narcissa replied. "And to be sure, it will be the event of the season."

"Will Lord Potter be in attendance?" Priscilla asked, trying to seem uninterested but utterly failing.

"Why, do you see another opportunity to foist your niece off on the poor boy?" Evangeline asked with a sour tightness to her lips. Sometimes Amelia wondered why Eva even attended these events. Personally, Amelia enjoyed Eva's biting commentary during private sessions but the woman hated idle chatter more than anyone she knew.

"It is curious the way you keep trying to force your niece on the boy," Narcissa commented lightly., "One might wonder if it is not you yourself who desires this upcoming season's Most Eligible Bachelor."

Priscilla flushed and Amelia smirked into her tea. She always had respected Narcissa almost as much as she detested the woman's husband. The manipulative and cunning methods that Narcissa utilized all disguised by sweetly vicious barbs were highly entertaining.

"So it's true then?" Aurora asked not bothering to hide her own amusement, "Harry is to be this season's Eligible Bachelor?"

"He's rather young for that title," Augusta commented frowning.

"Which only means he'll probably hold it numerous times until someone finally settles him," Aurora replied.

The Floo flared, surprising everyone and the head of Auror Jenkins appeared in the flames. "Madam Bones, come quickly!" Auror Jenkins said. The usually stoic Senior Auror looked frantic and her eyes were alight with panic, evident even through the Floo flames. Amelia was standing and moving towards the fireplace without a thought. "Emergency in the Auror Department."

"I apologize for my hasty departure, Sylvia –"

"Think nothing of it," Sylvia said immediately, her kind face creased in a concerned frown.

Amelia disappeared into the flames and strode out into her office, taking a moment to readjust her monocle. She'd worn it for so long that by now she hardly felt it but Flooing always irritated it. The Auror Department didn't have a Floo because it was a potential security risk, so her office down the hall was the closest option. "Report," she snapped, reaching Auror Jenkins who stood at the door in only a few strides.

"Yaxley is dead."

"What!" Amelia shrieked and ran out of her office, forcing Jenkins to sprint to catch up with her. People leaped out of their way and Amelia would feel the humiliation over such a lack of decorum later. This was serious. Yaxley couldn't be dead. How could he be dead? Amelia cursed the fact that her office was so far down the hall from the Auror Office. Thankfully, her monocle had a sticking charm that prevented it from falling during hurried movements or unless she herself removed it.

She entered the Auror Office and Aurors jumped out of her way. There was an eerie silence in the office as her officers watched her weave through the desks. Without a thought, she locked the door so that no curious bystanders could come poking around. She pushed her way through the crowd of stunned and uncertain Aurors that had formed around the holding cells. The holding cells were in a side hall tucked off from the main office, out of sight from anyone walking in but easily reached in case of an emergency. Her heart plummeted in her stomach.

Yaxley lay slumped over on the bench in the holding cell, not moving and not breathing, eyes open. Dead. At her feet, bound and stunned, lay – partially invisible with a cloak draped over part of his chest from where it had slipped off during the attack – Alastor Moody. "Put him in the cell," she ordered quietly, forcing her emotions aside so she could focus on the present moment. Something trained and instilled into her by the man now being lifted and shoved behind bars.

Amelia stood in front of the cell and stared at the stunned man and the dead body. All of the Aurors on shift huddled in a crowd behind her. "Someone, tell me why Alastor Moody is not sitting in his cell in Azkaban."

"He– he–"

Amelia whirled to face the stuttering Junior Auror that had attempted to speak. His coworkers stepped away from him as though he had the plague. "Well, Auror Robinson? You were part of his detail, were you not?"

"Yes, yes, Madam," the young man said, trembling. He was young, cherub-faced, and fair-haired and Amelia had always viewed him as an over-eager puppy during her times in the office; however, Head Auror Scrimegor insisted the boy had potential. Amelia could admit internally that his attempt to answer despite the answer being something that would obviously displease her was admirable. "We – we were attacked on the way. They–they never made it– erhm– made it to Azkaban."

Silence thrummed like a taut string and Amelia felt her ire rising. "And why," she said softly with barely contained rage, "did no one think to inform me of this error?" No one met her eye. "Scrimegor!" she shouted, spinning to face the crowd of Aurors fully, and a quarter of the crowd jumped and parted rapidly for the lion-haired man to step forward.

"It was a reporting error, Madam. I was never informed either. The report given stated they had arrived and were secured."

Amelia turned to Auror Robinson again. "Tell me, Auror Robinson, why did you not personally inform the Head Auror after the attack? Did you not think it odd that no one seemed concerned over the escape?"

Auror Robinson swallowed and a few beads of sweat trickled down his face. "I – I – thought it was being – was being handled secretly, Madam. I thought – erghm – thought it was being handled discretely and above my level."

"Who wrote the report, Head Auror?" Amelia asked through grinding teeth.

Scrimgeour took a breath and a lesser man would have looked away, but Amelia knew Rufus was made of sterner stuff. It was why she had appointed him as her replacement. "Auror Nymphadora Tonks wrote and submitted the report."

"And where is Auror Tonks?" Amelia asked tightly, her back straight and stiff as her hands formed fists at her sides.

"Her shift ended about an hour ago." Scrimgeour held her gaze with a grim understanding of what that implied.

"Have her brought to my office. Now! You will be present for this conversation." Scrimgeour nodded and barked out orders for four Aurors to go to retrieve Nymphadora Tonks. "Auror Robinson, you will be in my office tomorrow morning at eight o'clock sharp and we will have a severe conversation that you will not enjoy regarding assumptions. Jenkins, Williams, and Savage, remain here. The rest of you, do you not have jobs to complete? Get to it! And do not make me remind you of the secrecy contracts that you all signed," Amelia barked out and the Aurors jumped and scurried to their desks, except for the three she had called out. All three were Senior Aurors and ones she trusted.

Amelia took a shaky breath and pinched her nose, then nodded for Scrimegour to revive Moody.

Moody came to with a grunt and a quick intake of breath. Then the man was teetering on his feet. Well, his foot and his poor replacement of a leg that was essentially just a stick attached to his stumped leg."Amelia, Rufus," Moody said with a grunt and a nod of his head.

"Alastor," Amelia whispered. "You have a lot to answer for. So I suggest you start talking."

The smile that Alastor Moody gave was insidious and vile, and Amelia couldn't help the shiver that crept up her spine.

Hidden Crimes of the Auror Office

Who Can We Trust If Not Our Own Law Enforcement?

By Rita Skeeter

This reporter has the horrible task of informing you, dear readers, that there have been some crimes being covered up by our prestigious Aurors, crimes committed by the Aurors themselves. Department of Magical Law Enforcement Head, Amelia Bones, and Head Auror, Rufus Scrimgeour, held a press conference just yesterday to inform the public of the dastardly deeds that they uncovered within their own department.

"There has been a grave error among some members of the force," Bones said to the gathered press. "It came to our attention that Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt, two former Aurors and men accused of crimes during a trial in November, never made it to their cells in Azkaban. The report was fabricated and the prisoners were freed. The Aurors involved in the transport are under investigation and one has already faced termination."

"This error was brought to our attention when Alastor Moody entered our offices and killed one of our suspects in the holding cell," Scrimgeour said.

Now, for those that don't remember, Bones appointed Scrimegour as her replacement only eight years ago. Both individuals were trained personally by the accused Moody. Given all of this turmoil the former Auror and accused criminal has caused, this reporter surely can't be the only one to have some suspicions over the credibility of two of Moody's protégés or their blatant conflict of interest.

Of course, this reporter could detect the obvious question from those statements and was quick to ask the officials just who Moody killed in the holding cell. It took far too long for either official to respond and after a shared glance – conspiracy possibly? – it was announced that Lord Corban Yaxley of the Dark Faction was in the holding cell. Neither official said anything more about why Yaxley was in the holding cell, but this reporter was unsatisfied and I dug deeper for you my dear readers.

Gossip among the Aurors is running rampant after all and according to a few Aurors who wish to remain anonymous, Yaxley entered the Auror Offices last week to announce his part in the horrendous attack on Lord Potters' muggle family and childhood neighborhood. Lord Potter as I'm sure you remember, dear readers, not but two weeks ago, made the shocking announcement that he disapproved of a State of Emergency despite the attack made against his own family. There are many speculations about his reasoning behind this decision and this reporter wonders if the latest news will spark any change of heart.

But I bury the lead, my dear readers, this isn't even the most shocking part of the whole scandal of the Auror Department. Not only did Lord Yaxley announce his participation in the muggle attack he also implicated his co-conspirator. Lord Yaxley claimed that none other than our esteemed Headmaster and Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore, not only planned and orchestrated the event but was in attendance.

Now I'm certain I'm not the only one shocked by the announcement, and now with Alastor Moody – known friend and accomplice of Dumbledore's – so intricately involved, this reporter has to wonder at the validity of the accusation. Things certainly aren't looking favorably on Albus Dumbledore right now. But was it all a setup? Was it Lord Potter who set up the Headmaster? Their feud is becoming legendary after all. Or was Dumbledore actually behind the attack on Lord Potter's family? Has Dumbledore joined the Dark Lord in the joint torment of the youngest Lord?

This reporter is just as lost as the rest of you but there are five facts absolutely known. One, Lord Potters' family was killed on January 2nd. Two, the Dark Mark was clearly present. Three, on January 5th, Lord Potter argued against the State of Emergency while Albus Dumbledore argued for it. Four, Lord Yaxley admitted his involvement, turned himself into the Aurors, and accused Dumbledore as well. Five, Alastor Moody, known friend and confidant of Albus Dumbledore and known torturer of Lord Potter, broke into the holding cells at the Auror Office and killed Lord Yaxley.

In a state of growing uncertainty and turmoil, this reporter fears for the upstanding citizens of this community. Who can be trusted among us? What hidden secrets will be brought to light in the coming months?

Both Lord Potter and Headmaster Dumbledore have been unavailable for comment.