CHAPTER SIXTY
Wednesday morning saw Harry and Ophelia rise quite early to go and train together. Atty did not want to come along this time, preferring to get a few more hours of sleep. As Ophelia dished the gossip that her mother had sent in her last letter, Harry could not help but feel relieved that nothing much had changed in her relationship with the Rowle heiress, despite her knowing one of Harry's more dangerous secrets. In fact, Ophelia had been very blasé about it – almost too much for the Traveller's liking. It was mostly due to the lack of Ophelia prying into her original timeline.
When the pair got to the Room of Requirement and put their bags down, Harry turned to her friend. "So, what first?" she asked jovially.
"I feel like sparring first," Ophelia grinned as she unsheathed her rapier. "Maybe then some knife throwing?"
"Sounds good to me," Harry concurred, grinning and turning her wand into a rapier. As the girls stepped onto the arena and assumed a battle stance, Harry cocked her head slightly at her partner. "How are the preparations for your Courting Box coming along?"
"Slowly. I have hit a writer's block with my song," Ophelia huffed. "Oizys is going to help me get tickets to go and see Malum's favourite Quidditch team. And I have no idea what kind of story I want to be inside of the box."
"I meant what I said you know," Harry stated when she made the first move, Ophelia blocking quite quickly. "Just set me to work. I can help with the music, the story, official portrait. I really don't mind."
"I know," Ophelia reassured as she made the attack this time, Harry parrying. "I don't know why I am so reluctant to actually take you up on it. Maybe it is because you have enough on your plate, with the two assignments sent to you by Gringotts."
"Assignment or no assignment, I make time for my friends," Harry reassured as they exchanged a couple of more blows before stepping back from each other slightly. "I neglected some of the people I loved most and I regret not spending more time with them. I will not make that same mistake again!"
Ophelia's brow furrowed. She looked like she wanted to question Harry on that statement – Harry could practically see it swimming in her friend's eyes – but Ophelia held her tongue. Instead, the Rowle heiress pursed her lips for a moment and then made two more experimental attacks, both of which Harry countered.
"If you are sure, then I would love some help tonight," Ophelia smiled softly.
"Would love to," Harry assured with a grin. She then sobered a little. "I do have a question I want to ask you."
"About what?" Ophelia asked curiously.
"About the fact you haven't asked me a single thing about … the place I came from. The time I came from," Harry answered candidly. Ophelia barely reacted. "Are you … not curious or …?"
"Oh I am," Ophelia answered immediately. "But then I remember that everything you have told us, everything that happened to you – it did happen, only not here. On top of that, you found yourself in the past, on your own, with no friend to turn to, seemingly. Besides, I would rather you willingly tell me things rather than me prying into your business."
Harry considered that for a moment. Once she had a train of thought put on the rails again, she raised her sword. "I suppose I could tell a few things. My parents, James and Lily, did die in the war – the Dark Lord in question did find us, and killed them. The only issue was, he couldn't kill me. The Killing Curse rebounded," blades clashed together once more. "I was taken to live with my aunt, uncle and cousin – Muggles who hated magic. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon made sure to spend each day reminding me that I was a burden to them and that I had to be grateful they even took me in."
Harry paused and closed her eyes for a moment, composing herself before opening her eyes just as quickly.
Ophelia's eyes darkened considerably, seeing her friend's pain as clear as day. "Please tell me that they never laid a finger on you."
Swords clashed a few more times. "Aunt Petunia enjoyed throwing things at me, Uncle Vernon preferred shouting at me and Dudley – well, he enjoyed picking on anything weaker than him. Girls included, and I was his favourite target for a long while. He and his friends enjoyed a good spot of 'Harry Hunting', as they called it. The severest punishments were reserved for … accidental magic."
Anger was now fully visible on Ophelia's countenance. "What did those mongrels do to you?" she demanded.
Harry smiled wryly. "Remember when I said that they used put me in a cupboard as punishment? I kind of forgot to mention that was also where they made me sleep. I was treated no better than a house elf, perhaps worse than a house elf."
Ophelia put all of her rage against Harry's so-called Muggle family into her next few attacks, which had actually forced Harry to block and move backwards until her back had hit a pillar. Once she had Harry pinned, Ophelia seemed to regain the ability to think clearly. "You should never have been left with them! You should have been taken care of by your next magical living relative, one that was designated by your parents in a last will and testament."
Harry chuckled coldly. "They didn't leave one."
"Oh come off it, Harry!" Ophelia scoffed. "Two powerful wizards fighting in a war, hiding from a Dark Lord who is hunting their family – they very likely would have done. They would never have left you unprotected; I am sure that they loved you too much for that."
Harry honestly did not know how to answer this or what to think for a single moment. No one had ever mentioned whether or not her parents had left a will, not even Sirius and Remus. To be honest, Harry had always thought that it had been her parents who wanted her to be left with Petunia but knowing what she now did, there was more than a sliver of doubt in the Traveller's mind that this was the case.
But then, why was Hagrid ordered to bring her to Privet Drive? Why had Sirius given him his motorbike? Harry knew Dumbledore was involved and that he had effectively blackmailed the Dursleys into doing it. But did that mean … she should never have gone to them in the first place?
Harry looked to the rapier that Ophelia had pinned her to the column with. "Hǣtan!"
Ophelia hissed in pain as the hilt and blade of her rapier began to sizzle and smoke, dropping it instantly and immediately casting a Healing charm on her hand. Harry smirked with satisfaction. "You should have seen that one coming, my friend."
Ophelia chuckled as she flapped her hand a bit. "From you, definitely. Medea and Circe, that hurt! You have got to teach me that, though."
"Was already planning on it," Harry reassured as she turned her rapier back into her wand. "Knife throwing next, wasn't it?"
Ophelia grinned and nodded. The girls went back to fetch their daggers; the Rowle heiress could not resist asking another question that had been on her mind. "Just out of curiosity, why do you never fight us with your own rapier?"
Harry flushed. "Because my rapier is a little bit more … dangerous than the ones you have."
Ophelia frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, the blade is embedded with … Death magic," Harry finished awkwardly.
This made her friend blink her eyes a few times and gape in shock. "What?" she finally managed to say.
"Yeah," Harry laughed awkwardly. "Death Infusion is one of my powers as Mistress of Death and well … I decided a scythe with Death magic on its blade was too cliché so I put the magic into the blade of my sword instead."
Ophelia had to take a moment to wrap her head around what she just heard. "You … have the ability to … infuse objects with … Death magic," she exhaled quite sharply. "Holy Hekate, there is nothing normal about you is there, Madam Traveller?"
Harry snorted at that. "Trust me, I wish there was! It would make my life less difficult."
"I don't wish for it!" Ophelia countered easily as they each took a target. "You wouldn't be Harry otherwise."
The Mistress of Death let her first dagger fly. Bowel shot; she grimaced. She then recovered a bit. "So I have been told," she chuckled softly.
Ophelia drew her first dagger and let it fly – outer ring hit. The Rowle heiress scowled. "I think I am a little rusty."
"Nope, you're doing just fine," Harry was quick to reassure. "Adjust your angle a bit."
Ophelia drew her next dagger and considered what she was going to say next. "Just out of curiosity, and this has been something that I just can't get out of my head – how did you know that Borgin and Burke were in possession of Slytherin's locket?"
Harry laughed quite loudly but shortly. "Oh boy, Lia, that is one hell of a story that I think you're not going to believe when you hear it."
"Try me," Ophelia challenged with a snort as she threw the second dagger, and grinned at the bull's eye. "I already know and believe a lot of things people would book me into St. Mungo's for!"
"Fair enough," Harry sighed. She exhaled sharply, twirling her dagger. "Well, I would say buckle your seat belt but you don't know what a seat belt is so I suppose I will just say, hold onto your hat because this is going to be a bumpy ride."
Ophelia chuckled. "Bring it on!"
"OK, fine – it all started with a fake locket that was hidden in a basin the middle of a lake full of Inferi."
##########################################################################
Andras could have thanked a deity for his luck if he knew what a deity was. Lord Nott needed to go quite early into London that day for a reason that was unclear to the familiar, but he knew for certain it was well before breakfast. What was even better, was that Altair's father was still not back by the time that the breakfast was cooked and the mail owls were arriving. It was at this time that Andras had made his way to the Owlery, determined to get there before Frederick the butler did. The Owlery of Nott Manor was a small stone tower that was at the back of the garden; in theory, Frederick could get there the quickest because the kitchens had doors that led straight out into the garden but Andras had learned all the quickest routes from the upper floors with Altair.
Plus the Northern Inuit hound knew he was much faster than Frederick. He had stolen a pair of Frederick's shoes once and had led the man a merry dance around the grounds until Lady Amaris had ordered Andras to give the man his shoes back. And that was when Frederick was considerably younger than he was now!
There was no sign of the butler when Andras got to the Owlery. Inside were the three horned owls used for official House Nott replies and business: Rhea, Ulysses and Cantankerous. Andras found the name for the latter very fitting because the owl was an annoying ball of feathers. The three owls regarded him with almost sheer indifference; that was more than fine with Andras. He did not feel like striking up a conversation with those three judgemental worm peckers anyway.
Fortunately for the familiar, he did not have to wait long for mail owls to begin to arrive. The first was a tawney owl carrying newspapers, the second was a barn owl with a pile of magazines, the third was Black family owl with a letter and the fourth was a tired looking snowy owl with a letter as well.
Andras quickly sussed out that this was the owl carrying Diantha's letter. He quickly perked up but then frowned again. How was he going to get it?
"Are you the mail hound?" hooted the barn owl.
"Not really, but I am here to collect the mail," Andras woofed back.
"He is the familiar of the master's son. He usually does not do this," Cantankerous felt the need to inform.
Andras scowled at him and resisted the urge to growl at the snitching featherhead.
"Well, I don't care who takes it as long as the mail gets inside," the tawney owl hooted in irritation. He flew down from his perch and stuck out his leg to Andras, who carefully pulled at the string around the bird's leg with his teeth. The barn owl flew down as well, closely followed by the Black family owl.
The only one who was a little reluctant, was the snowy owl.
"Come down! I can take your letter too. I will be veeeery careful with it," Andras promised, trying to look as angelic as possible.
"It needs to go to your Wizard's father," the snowy owl informed.
"Okey-dokey, no problem!"
"You have to put it on his desk," the snowy owl continued.
Andras sighed to himself. I am getting lectured to by a bird …
The Black owl scowled up at the snowy owl. "I am sure he can figure that out for himself! Just deliver your letter and be on your way. Good Pallas!"
The snowy owl still looked incredibly unsure as she flew down just as the Black owl took off. Andras carefully untied the letter and then gathered all the newspapers, magazines and letters into his mouth as though he were carrying new-born puppies. The snowy owl realised the matter was now entirely out of her talons so she took off.
Andras trotted back to the house, feeling pretty pleased with himself. He was going to give it all to Amaris and perhaps she would know what to do with this address that Lord Nott was supposed to receive.
"ANDRAS!"
Oh no. Frederick was marching directly towards him, determination in every step. Andras tensed, growling in the butler's direction. It only made the man flinch for a moment but he soon composed himself.
"Hand the mail over," the butler ordered.
Not on your life, Andras wanted to reply, but couldn't on the account of his maw being full.
Frederick could see the obstinate look in the familiar's eyes and scowled. "This is not a game, you silly dog. Those are for the master and mistress!"
The butler lunged for Andras but the Norther Inuit hound dodged agilely and immediately raced towards the open double doors as fast as his legs could carry him, Frederick cursing and swearing while in hot pursuit. Andras did not slow down for a moment, zooming into the chambers belonging to Amaris, who was in the middle of breakfast, and skidding to a halt at her feet, holding out the large pile of mail to her as innocently as possible.
Amaris frowned. "Andras what on Earth … oh! You fetched the mail! Aren't you thoughtful?"
Ava chuckled at the familiar's antics. Not long afterwards, Frederick came into the room, out of breath and clutching his sides. Ava scowled at him. "Frederick, have you lost all your manners? You knock before you enter Her Ladyship's chambers!" she scolded.
"Forgive … the intrusion … my Lady … Andras … took mail … Lord Nott's desk," Frederick managed to say through gathering some more oxygen into his lungs.
Amaris' brow furrowed a little as she took the mail from Andras' mouth. "I don't think I will forgive this intrusion, Frederick. Andras did nothing wrong. As for my husband's mail, I will see to it that they were put on his desk. You have more than enough on your mind as it is. You may go."
Frederick paled. "My Lady, I assure you-"
"Did you just disobey a direct order?" Ava cut across sharply, eyes flashing dangerously. "Her Ladyship has made herself abundantly clear."
Andras smirked as he saw the butler gulp. Ava could be very scary when she wanted to be! Fortunately, Frederick recognised he was on thin ice and with a curt bow to Amaris, had fled the chambers. As soon as he was gone, Ava shut the door and Amaris began looking through the mail.
"New copy of the Daily Prophet … new Sly Sphinx … another Court of Britain – I wonder what political mess has happened this month … Oh! A letter from Melania! No doubt she wants to meet again … wait a minute … this is Diantha Underwood's hand …" Amaris looked ashen at the last letter. "Why … is she writing to Mattheo?"
Ava frowned in concern. Andras could already see Amaris imagining the worst, so he decided to tell her. "The address Diantha was supposed to go to is in there," he woofed.
Amaris frowned. "Address? What address?"
"Address of the person who is doing the blackmailing!"
A look of realisation spread onto Lady Nott's face. She then frowned. "Andras … how do you know that inside of this letter is an address?" she asked knowingly.
"Mattheo left his door open," was the simple answer the Northern Inuit hound gave.
Amaris could not help herself: she started to laugh. Avan and Andras watched her in awe; the Lady Nott had not laughed like that in years. The last time she did was during a snowball fight with Altair, Arcturus and Druella, but that was years ago. Amaris always felt like she needed permission to laugh.
Apparently, she was done with that.
"Well, let us have a sneaky peak before we get it to his desk," Amaris decided. "Can't have Mattheo have all the fun, now can we?"
###########################################################################
"Are you absolutely certain that it is going to work?!"
"Somehow, Alex's insane plan is already working a treat. If one or both of them don't show, it would be very surprising. Believe me, Francis, when Alex told me what he had been up to, I actually poured myself some Firewhiskey."
Regina Avery felt like she needed Firewhiskey at that moment as well. She still had not comprehended her husband's insanely complex and Machiavellian plan to get evidence from an Underwood, and potentially from Lord Nott himself. It was so utterly absurd that Regina felt like she had heard the plot of a very badly made talkie movie.
A few days ago, Regina had caught Alex on a Fire-Call with someone she had not expected: Electra Potter. Most wives would have assumed the worst, but Regina eavesdropped more out of curiosity than jealousy. As it turned out, Alex had enlisted the help of Electra Potter and a bunch of her more murky informants, who were already chasing the rumour about Anne Underwood and her bastard children, to get photographic evidence of Lord Nott's infidelity – which they apparently had gotten by 'persuading' a servant of the Underwoods to hand over some photos – and to send those threatening letters to both Lord Nott and Diantha Underwood.
When Alex had spied Regina, he had beckoned her over immediately and both he and Electra had spilled the beans about everything. Apparently, Electra had wanted to send them directly to Anne but Alex had vetoed the idea on the account that Anne Underwood was a suspicious harpy who would have panicked and destroyed what evidence she could get her hands on. Currently, they were set to meet either Underwood or Nott at a café in Knockturn Alley on Friday.
Despite the scheme yielding no conclusive results yet, Regina did feel obligated to inform Francis and Rhiannon of what was happening. It was safe to say that neither Lord nor Lady Lestrange had seen that coming!
"Well, I suppose we shouldn't be too surprised," Lady Lestrange scoffed quietly. "Alex always did like his elaborate plots!"
"Elaborate? This is just pure madness, Mama!" Nymera commented. "It is a miracle Lord Nott and Ms Underwood are even falling for it. I mean, it is so obvious that you can smell it from a mile off!"
"I suspect they are being blinded by their panic," Regina answered with a smile on her face.
"How did they manage to keep a secret this big hidden if they get spooked so easily?" Nymera grumbled. "Adults can be so stupid sometimes."
"Nymera," Lord Lestrange chastised gently.
"What? It's true!" Nymera protested. She turned back to her friend's mother. "Did you also hear from Mr. Longbottom by any chance, Mrs. Avery?"
"Not yet, dear," Regina answered candidly. "I think he is trying to juggle your case and a rather odd occult case at the same time, so it isn't too surprising that we have not heard from him yet."
"Well, if you see him or get a Fire-Call, tell him to look out for an owl from Rava or a call," Nymera stated. "We got some news today from the goblins!"
"Oh?" Regina perked up immediately. "Did you?"
"Morgana's saggy lace dress, I can't believe we haven't told you yet," Rhiannon Lestrange grumbled to herself but recovered quite quickly. "The goblins have discovered the composition of the counterfeit Blood Curse! They know what it is, which spells were used – all they need to know now is how it operates and then we can try to undo its effects on Nymera!"
Regina Avery was gaping unabashedly, but gathered her mouth from the floor quite quickly. "Merlin's rat-bitten boots! You must be joking! But that is fantastic news! So I did manage to get my hands on the correct recipe?"
"Absolutely!" Lord Lestrange confirmed. "Rosberg promised me he would be in touch with you, Alex and Harfang soon on the matter so you can come and see the evidence for yourself."
"Did you think you got the wrong recipe, Mrs. Avery?" Nymera added teasingly.
"Yes, I did, actually," Regina admitted with a heavy, relieved sigh. "I feared that because I was trying to copy as many of them as I could in the limited amount of time that I had that I perhaps overlooked the one that we needed."
"Understandable," was Nymera's easy answer. "But you didn't so that is good news."
"Indeed," Regina chuckled. "I can at least sleep at night knowing that I hadn't messed that up at least."
"Is issues sleeping a thing in your family? Because Oizys also has issues with sleeping," Nymera wondered out loud.
"Nymera," her mother cajoled gently. "That is none of our business."
Regina thought it was best to say nothing at this point.
"Very well," Nymera begrudgingly agreed. "Are you going to finally write to Heron and tell him what Rava said, and about Mr. Avery's stupid plot? Because I think Heron needs to get some news before worry drives him to fail a piece of homework."
Regina spluttered, as did Nymera's parents.
"Darling, I am sure everything is fine with Heron's homework," Lord Lestrange tried to reassure.
"Father, he almost failed an Ancient Runes assignment the last time I had a seizure," Nymera responded primly. "Heron does not fail Ancient Runes! Now if it was History, I would understand completely, but it wasn't so …"
Regina bit into her cheek to stop herself from laughing.
"By the way, have you decided whether or not you are going to see Slytherin versus Gryffindor, because I really want to go too and I need help making a Slyther-dor scarf," the young Lestrange continued.
"A Slyther-dor scarf?" Lady Lestrange repeated in disbelief.
"Well my brother is in Slytherin and my future sister-in-law is the Gryffindor Seeker! I am not going to play favourites or I will never hear the end of it," Nymera huffed. "They will be telling their children that Auntie Nymera likes playing favourites and I do not want that!"
"I am sure that will not happen, darling," Lord Lestrange tried to placate.
"Oh yes it will! Artemis has a vindictive streak a mile of and Heron likes to tease me," Nymera countered immediately. "Heron takes after you in that regard!"
Lord Lestrange spluttered indignantly at this while his wife and their friend tried to keep a straight face.
Regina very quickly excused herself. "As much as I would love to stay, I do have some more work to be getting on with. I will be in touch if I hear anything more from Harfang and Alex."
"OK. Have a good day, Regina, and thank you for everything!" Rhiannon stated happily.
"Indeed," Lord Lestrange agreed.
"Bye, Mrs. Avery!" Nymera added.
Regina was almost sorry she had to hang up, but it wasn't a complete lie that she told. She did have a pile of paper work that needed attending to.
###########################################################################
It was safe to say that despite being only painted depictions of the Headmasters and Headmistresses of the past, each of the portraits that hung in Dippet's office were slowly getting a migraine from watching the current Headmaster of Hogwarts pace nervously up and down his office and tap his tea cup with a spoon in anxiety when he did eventually sit down and try to still his nerves with a good old cuppa.
Dippet had been in this heightened state all morning and during lunch. Patrick Ogden's lawyer said he would arrive at one-thirty. It was now one-fifteen, and the suspension of what his groundskeeper had put in his will was almost too much for the Headmaster to bear, thus resulting in him making his predecessors also very jumpy.
"Good grief, I think I have seen Orion and Lucretia sit still for longer between them," Phineas Nigellus could not help but comment after keeping his tongue for so long.
"It is just a simple will reading," Elizabeth Burke agreed. "There is no cause for concern. Now had Mr. Ogden had actually any money to his name at all, I would understand – we do not wish a bloodbath to occur on Hogwarts soil."
"We cannot assume anything, Bess," Headmaster Everard sighed.
"True, but I do admit that worrying unnecessarily is not good either," Dilys really hated that she was agreeing with Phineas and Bess on anything. "Gets one into a muddle for no good reason."
"He would have a bit more of a piece of mind if he would just discard the idea of letting that Hagrid boy back onto Hogwarts soil," Headmaster Vulpus commented.
Phyllida Spore snorted. "We would have a better chance of convincing him that the sky is green and the Earth is flat!"
"I can still hear you, you know," Dippet grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose, slumped in his golden throne.
"Yes, you can hear us, but you don't exactly listen to us!" Headmaster Vulpus huffed. "I think it is simply too raw, too soon, to bring the Hagrid boy back to the castle after what happened to the Warren girl. It still causes too much emotion – wait another ten, fifteen years and then perhaps introduce Hagrid as a potential successor to the one you pick. If you do this, there will be more than one angry parent and this room will be filled with Howlers!"
"I agree that the Hagrid boy needs direction, but he is also a liability," Edessa added. "That boy was as dangerously naïve as one could get!"
"Which is why he needs a proper guide!" Dippet shot back. "How is anyone supposed to learn just by living in a secluded place, away from anyone around him? Loneliness can be just as dangerous. They may as well have put him into Azkaban at that point!"
"Good," Elizabeth Burke hissed. "It is where he belongs after all."
"I struggle to take anything you say without a grain of salt, Bess," Dippet confessed rather easily. "You have never disguised your hatred for so-called half-breeds and your own track record with students and staff was questionable at best."
"I did what needed to be done," Bess sniffed. "Antonia died before the real mess in England started! The king who fancied himself a witch hunter died, only for another ineffective King to take his place! I had to get our students through the Eleven Years of Tyranny – I had better things on my mind than caring about the feelings of the inferior species! I can only thank Hekate I lived long enough to know King Charles lost his head before I passed – it was the least I deserved for the mess he made."
"May I remind you that you do not have the monopoly on trauma?" Fytherley Undercliffe sniffed. "As you may recall, I had to protect our future during the time when Henry VIII fully lost his mind to tyranny!"
"None of us had it easy," Giffard Abbott pointed out. "But the question is not on the idiocy of the boy's past actions. It is on whether or not we can trust him with the future of Hogwarts' grounds."
"I would not trust that boy to make me a sandwich, let alone the grounds of Hogwarts," Phineas Nigellus stated.
"I say, he will need proper guidance and training before I could say for certain," Vindictus Viridian added, glaring in Phineas' direction. "But the decision is yours, Armando."
Most of the other portraits didn't get enough time to get a word in because not long after, the Floo Network opened and into the Headmaster's office stepped a young woman with light brown hair, blue eyes and a clean cut tweed suit, carrying a briefcase. Dippet forced himself to smile.
"Ah, Miss Lupin, you are on time! Do my eyes deceive me?" he greeted jovially.
Joanna Lupin chuckled. "My time keeping has improved over the years, Headmaster," she reassured as she took a very familiar seat in front of his desk. "I have had to. I can't show up late to a trial!"
"No indeed," Dippet agreed readily. He sobered quickly. "So shall we get down to business then?"
"Yes, let's," Joanna concurred with a deep sigh as she lifted up her case, put it on the desk and opened it. She took out a small folder and put the case down on the floor. The lawyer cleared her throat. "As you are aware, this is only the pre-hearing of the last will and testament of Patrick Ogden. The hearing of the full will, will only take place once you have notified the rest of the heirs."
"Rest of the heirs?" Dippet repeated.
"I will get to that," Joanna reassured. She opened the file, eyes on the document in front of her. "You see, Mr. Ogden has named Hogwarts as primarily heir to most of his estates under the signed covenant. However, he has named Heir Orion Nigellus Black, Heiress Loreley Azalea Malfoy, Mistress Artemis Althea Potter, and Lady Hera Elizabeth Peverell as his heirs to personal estates. He has even left an inheritance to someone called Athenaïs, with no surname."
Dippet could hardly believe what he was hearing. Wait … Peverell? Lady Hera's true surname … was not Evans at all?
"That has a good reason," Dippet cleared his throat, trying to cover his own shock. "Athenaïs is the Lady Hera's familiar."
Joanna Lupin's eyes widened at that. "To be honest, this is one of the oddest wills I have had to execute on a client's behalf." She swallowed. "I did not believe it when I first read it – Mr. Ogden made me swear an Unbreakable Vow of all things never to disclose the contents to anyone except the heirs in the will – but is it true? Is this girl … Lady Peverell?"
Though utterly dumbfounded himself, the Headmaster decided it was best to go the political route. "Even if it were, you know I am not permitted to divulge the personal information of a student," Dippet answered crisply.
"Yes, I thought as much," Joanna Lupin sighed.
"More to the point, Patrick would not lie about this in his last will and testament," Dippet continued. "That would render his will void."
"True," Joanna agreed. "I just … find it difficult to believe. The Peverells – or at least one of them – are back."
Dippet chose to not say anything. Fortunately Joanna decided it was time to press on with the important matter. "Mr. Ogden has left his house on the grounds and his old house that he shared with Maggie in Hogsmeade to Hogwarts in addition to five hundred Galleons. He has also requested that I pass on this piece of advice."
Joanna lifted an envelope out of her file, took out a document and began to read. "I, Patrick Ogden, in full possession of all my legal wit, write this document on the matter of my successor. Whilst it will be up to Armando Dippet to choose who will be taking up my family's mantel, I hope he will appreciate some advice from an old man with some funny ideas. Armando, my friend, if I know you well, you will likely have limited your options to three. Likely, one of those you are likely considering, is the boy who caused so much mayhem two years ago: Rubeus Hagrid. An orphan boy who has an obsession for some dangerous magical creatures and a heart of gold. I know what Albus has to say on the matter, but the truth of the matter is, the child is too young to do the job without some proper guidance. He will also have to swear not to bring any magical creature not approved by the Headmaster or Headmistress onto Hogwarts grounds. You cannot afford the same malarky.
I wish on occasion that Maggie and I had our own child that would mean you would not be put in this position, but sadly to be parents was not our destiny. I am sorry for it, though. This must give you such a headache! I can only hope that my death didn't cause too much of a fuss.
Signed,
Patrick Ogden."
Dippet started chuckling. "Oh, Patrick …"
Joanna smiled softly. "I will be in touch again to talk to your students. I have another client that I need to meet," the lawyer informed as she packed everything away and got to her feet. "It was a pleasure to see you again, sir, despite the circumstances."
"Indeed, Miss Lupin," Dippet found himself beaming. "Have a good day, and thank you."
"Good day, sir," Joanna answered before stepping through the Floo Network and disappearing very quickly.
Once the roaring of the fire died down, there was a moment of tense and disbelieving silence in the Headmaster's office.
"Oh Merlin's saggy Y-fronts … they're back …" Headmaster Vulpus whispered.
"She's a Peverell. She is a bloody Peverell! No wonder she has a talent for trouble!" Antonia wailed. Bess too was dangerously pale.
"I did tell you that she reminded me of Evren Peverell!" Fytherley Undercliffe huffed. "But you all said I am batty."
"You are batty," Dilys pointed out.
Giffard Abbott was also having a full nervous breakdown, leaning against his own picture frame, crying. "Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy is it always a Peverell?!"
"This is perfect! My House is allied with House Peverell! I knew I was right to have such high hopes for Orion," Phineas stated gleefully. He was one of the only ones not crying or praying or having to take a seat.
"Shut up, Phineas," Headmaster Everard advised.
"The only time a Peverell didn't cause issues was during my tenure," Mordicus Egg agreed shaking his head, "and that didn't stop my experience being interesting because of a scion of one of their vassals. A bloody Ravenwood! Is it any wonder I died because of a weak heart?"
"I am so glad I died before the Lady Hera stepped into my office," was the only thing Phineas had to say.
Dippet sighed derisively. He had a Peverell in his school since September and he didn't even know it. Just his bloody luck!
Now all he had to do was make sure that this did not become public knowledge …
But first, he had a decision to make!
###########################################################################
Neither Harry nor Ophelia were all too surprised when Walburga, Druella and Ygraine insisted on doing another 'girls evening', considering they had left the three behind in the dorms that morning instead of risking an angry Walburga and waking them up to ask if they wanted to come with them. Orion and Altair had asked Harry if they, together with Heron, could continue working with Cymede and Jason on the orb, which Harry had agreed to. So, after bringing the automatons and the orb to her best friends and her lover, Harry was subjected to some more pureblood lessons by Walburga, Druella, Ophelia and Ygraine.
On the agenda, odes, Sabbath chants and some Imbolc dances. The Traveller had suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at this. Apparently Walburga had really been kicking herself for not teaching Harry their most important funerary ode, and the Black heiress was not going to make that same mistake again. Ophelia taught Harry how to play some of them on Evren's violin, just in case the Lady Regnant ever found herself in a situation she was expected to join in but had no inclination to sing.
With Imbolc on the horizon, Harry was currently learning Join the Dance, O Come, Lady Brigid, The Blooming of the Blackthorn, Blessings of Foul Weather and Dance Like The Fire. Seraphina, Sigyn and Atty bobbed their heads along to the tunes; with two of them, the familiars tried to sing along as well. Harry found that the songs were just as fun to play, as they were folkish and rather high speed, especially Join the Dance and Dance like Fire. She did bugger at least two notes with each song, but recovered quite quickly when Ophelia drew the notes for her on a piece of parchment.
What made her chuckle was when they finished Dance Like The Fire, the girls heard calls of disappointment but applause from Bletchley's dorm next door, causing the other girls to wince a little.
"Ooops. I think we just gave an impromptu concert," Walburga grimaced. She recovered quickly and nodded approvingly at Harry. "Beautifully done, my Lady."
"Thank you," Harry jokingly curtsied, causing Walburga to shake her head at her.
"Well, judging by the reaction I don't think we were too much of a bother," Druella grinned.
"I sometimes forget that sound travels quite fast down here," Ygraine chuckled. "Thank Hekate for Silencing Spells!"
"Hear, hear!" Ophelia agreed readily.
"Yeah, we probably should have put one on our dorm before we started," Druella agreed. "Oh well, whoops."
"Well, we should probably put one on right now," Ophelia stated as she ducked under bed and brought out her Courting Box for Malum. Harry was on the job in a flash, casting a quick Muffling Charm and several privacy spells on their door with some non-verbal spells.
Once she had finished, the Mistress of Death put her violin away and gathered her art supplies. "So, what do you wish for me to begin with, my Lady?" Harry asked with a mock bow.
Ophelia smiled fondly at her friend's antics. "Miniature I think."
Harry began setting up as Ophelia went to change into one of her favourite dresses. Druella smirked. "I take it that means Malum is going to get a very big surprise on Monday?"
"If I can get the Box finished by then, yes," Ophelia grinned as she brushed her hair and then put on a few statement pieces. Finally the Rowle heiress turned to her familiar. "Sigyn?"
"Meeeeeow?" Sigyn raised her head curiously.
"Could you come and sit on my lap, please?"
The Russian blue looked set to protest but when she saw the pointed looks from Atty and Seraphina, Sigyn decided to keep her discontent to herself and behave. The cat trudged over to where her Witch was sitting on the window seat. Harry conjured herself a few pillows to sit on and regarded her friend.
"Any preferred background?" she asked as she picked up one of her sketching pencils.
"Knock yourself out," Ophelia replied with a lopsided grin. "I trust you."
Harry set to work. It was at this point that Ygraine, joining Druella on the latter's bed, started dishing out gossip. "Mother has informed me that the Light are losing allies in the Wizengamot quickly. The bill that targets Family Magic has fortunately been scrapped!"
"Thank Hekate," Walburga commented, sighing deeply with relief. Druella too looked like she was silently praying in gratitude.
"There is also apparently a rift between Diantha and her sister Anne," Ygraine continued. "No one knows why – none of the sisters are forthcoming about it. Most people assume they are in a tiff about a fellow, but Mother doubts that is the case. Oh, and there is a growing number of people who are asking questions about the marital status of Thomas Burke and Melanie Rollins."
Harry could not help but snort at that, erasing the mistake she made because of it. "Oh Merlin's over-used socks!"
"Given that Henry is courting Rollo, people can't help but be curious about the other two," Druella informed her. "I got a letter from my mother about the same subject; considering how private you and your family are, we didn't say anything to you about it."
"Well, people are going to be disappointed," Harry chuckled, not looking up from her preliminary sketch. "Thomas is married, though his wife does not live with him most of the time, and Melanie – as far as I know, she doesn't have a special someone but I don't think she just wants anyone."
"Mr. Burke is married?" Walburga sat up in interest. "Now that does surprise me! He does not wear a wedding band of any kind … are they separated?"
Harry shrugged. Me and my big mouth! she grumbled to herself.
"It is not really any of my business, so I never asked," she chose to answer truthfully. "Besides, their separation is not really his choice. As far as I know, Thomas loves his wife dearly."
"It's probably a good thing none of them run in pureblood circles extensively," Druella stated wryly. "The last thing we need is the guardian of the Lady Regnant of House Peverell getting angry."
"Nah, Tosti would find it more annoying than anything else," Harry reassured with a small grin as she started on Ophelia and Sigyn's faces. "He does not get angry all that easily, which is a good thing because I have given him more than enough reason recently to get angry."
"Probably, knowing you," Ygraine agreed with a slight teasing tone but quickly sobered. "Though I think he's more lenient with you given … everything."
"True," Harry agreed readily.
"I take it he knows also about your little … Peverell problem?" Walburga questioned carefully.
Harry snorted again. "Peverell problem! I need to remember that one. Good one, Wally! Yes, he does. Henry and Melanie as well – they trained my powers together."
"Speaking of training, the next time you want to go out for a morning of evening bout, ask us along would you?" Druella huffed. "I have been wanting to try a few more combat techniques out that I found in a combating Dark creatures book Arc and I found."
"Why did you not say yesterday?" Harry blanched.
"Have to admit that it kind of slipped my mind," Druella admitted. She then lit up. "I think you'll like the techniques, though, Harry. They are mostly centred around Undead creatures."
"Awesome!" the Traveller lit up.
"Yes, well, I think we should perhaps concentrate on finishing Ophelia's Box before we concern ourselves with the art of defeating vampires," Walburga huffed. "The stuffy Undead can wait until Malum accepts Ophelia's official courting proposal."
The other girls exchanged a look and a grin but didn't say anything; Sigyn, Seraphina and Atty giggled. There was no point in arguing with Walburga.
Harry continued sketching until she had finished Ophelia's dress and then went to mark some of essays she still needed to mark for her fifth year History class and plan her up and coming lesson. The other three girls prepared themselves for bed while singing their Imbolc songs.
#########################################################################
"I think we are getting close to possibly giving the goblins too much information," Heron commented wryly as he noted down the sequence of sigils that had triggered Cymede and Jason to both curl around the orb and reveal two ivory rings that had been concealed in the middle of the orb.
"Probably," Orion agreed but his eyes were dancing with happiness. "It is difficult to not get carried away, though. This is so exciting! Hali and Otis were ahead of their time in many aspects."
"And possibly secretly married to each other," Altair pointed out with a grin. "Given that those rings are protected so extensively, I don't think they were meant to be found by just anyone."
"True," Heron agreed with a small grin of his own. "Their Order would not have been too happy to discover that they had likely broken their vows of chastity. If this Temple of Hekate had one, that is …"
"Speaking of love stories," Orion looked up from his own notes and grinned at the Lestrange heir. "Why did I detect a Glamour on Artemis' neck yesterday?"
Altair's eyes widened at hearing this while Heron turned redder than a Gryffindor tie. "I have no idea what you are talking about," Heron tried to deflect nonchalantly.
"I know what a Glamour looks like, Lestrange! Artemis was wearing one – ooooh, don't tell me that you marked her neck?" Orion gasped dramatically.
"Sssssh!" Heron snapped as some curious younger years raised their heads from their study spots.
"That's a yes," Altair smirked.
Heron huffed. "First, it is none of your business – both of you! I don't stick my nose into your business, do I? Second – Artemis challenged me."
"How?" Orion lit up. "What did you do to offend her?"
Heron's flush deepened a little. "We had a bit of an argument. Well, tiff."
"That will do it," Orion nodded sagely. "So what type of label did she give you as punishment?"
Heron huffed. "She called me a prude."
"You are a prude," Altair shot back.
"Oh please, as if you wouldn't have done the same thing if Harry had challenged you," Heron gave him a pointed look.
Altair could not deny that so held his tongue. He instead decided to focus on some of the 'files' that Cymede was scrolling through; one of them contained Containment Spells and Imprisonment Spells. There was one that caught his eye, because the Ancient Greek translated to Circle for the Empousa.
Curiosity killing the cat once more, Altair asked the automaton to bring up the spell; Orion and Heron stopped their playful bantering to have a look as well, eager to see what new tit-bits of information the orb was yielding.
"A Containment Spell specifically designed for empousai," Heron whispered, laughing shortly. "Hali and Otis really threw themselves into their studies."
"It would suggest that normal Containment and Imprisonment Spells are not powerful enough to hold an empousa," Orion continued excitedly, continuing taking notes. "Being daughters of Hekate, that shouldn't be too surprising but still – it isn't every day that creatures can't be contained with a simple Containment Spell."
Altair ignored them as he narrowed in on the components for this spell. Earth … water … a rod of iron … Blood of Hekate …
Altair frowned to himself at this bit. That term was familiar but he could not come up for the reason as to why. Mentally kicking himself for having a sieve for a brain, Altair then focused upon the composition of the Containment Circle and the spells that made up the ritual.
"Power of the circle is determined by the phases of the Moon," Cymede felt the need to inform, Altair translating for Orion and Heron. "When the Moon is at its brightest, the circle can contain most entities within. On its darkest phase, its power is at its thinnest."
"How do you know?" Orion asked curiously.
"Containment of the empousai occurred during a waxing phase," Cymede answered. "The creature was contained long enough to be dealt with. As I said, it is unclear whether she was dealt with permanently."
"You were not there to record the data?" Heron guessed.
There was a long pause for a moment. "…Negative."
The three boys frowned. Cymede had gone quiet, and even Jason suddenly looked set to go back to sleep. It would appear that this topic of the empousa at the Temple, was a rather sore subject for these two automatons.
Altair could not help but wonder why.
###########################################################################
Malum Avery found himself once more in his dorm that evening, trying to focus on his homework and studying but found that his mind continuously went onto the matter of those damn Marks and the secretive behaviour Ophelia had been exhibiting before seemingly returning back to normal within the space of a few hours. Heron was more than happy to drop the matter that his lady was hiding something from him – Malum was not.
He felt like he was being treated like a mug, and if there was anything Malum hated the most, it was being treated like an idiot. The issue was, the Avery heir had not found a good opportunity to confront Ophelia about what it was that she was concealing. And Malum was not going to do something stupid as to confront his lady in a public space. There were too many wagging tongues around Hogwarts for that!
Plus, he did not want Harry to get the wrong impression and then find himself missing his balls.
Unfortunately for Malum, his poker face had been slipping a while ago and his friends were getting a little fed up with the long face on his countenance.
"What is the matter with you, Malum? You look like someone stole your Chocolate Frog!" Felix not so subtly demanded, looking up from his book on Quidditch strategy. "We need your head in the game for our match against Gryffindor, and we have yet to book the pitch this week."
Tom gave him a pointed look for that comment, looking up from his Potions essay. Malum smiled softly. "Yeah, I know. I will talk to Slughorn tomorrow. I promise."
"Good, because we will never live it down if we lose to the damn Lions before we leave!" Felix huffed.
"I am aware," Malum reassured his friend curtly, slamming his book shut in irritation, exhaling sharply.
Tom then turned to him with a frown. "Is there something we need to be concerned about?" he asked carefully.
Malum regarded him for a moment. "I don't know. How is one supposed to react to being lied to or being kept in the dark about something, by one's significant other?" he asked snarkily.
Tom did not answer that question. Instead, he cocked his head slightly and narrowed his eyes. "Ophelia is keeping something from you?"
"Yeah," Malum answered coolly. He laughed mirthlessly. "I made it clear to her that I want a relationship of equals – someone I can trust. Someone who I don't have to hide things from, and someone who confides in me as well … but she is just not … doing that."
"Have you perhaps considered there is a good reason for it?" Felix didn't look up from his book. "Maybe it is a family issue? Or some girlie problem?"
"Because she would tell me about those," Malum answered, shaking his head at his slightly dumb friend. "Besides, one moment she was jumpy and erratic, and then the next she is completely back to being herself. Something just doesn't add up!"
The Avery heir was on his feet in seconds and pacing up and down, expression conflicted. Tom closed his own books and sat up straight. "Look, Malum, take it from someone who has a lady who has issues trusting people and who is also not as open as he would like always – there are going to be things that the other won't tell yet. Maybe it is because they are scared, maybe it is because they themselves don't know the answer yet. But," he exhaled sharply, "you will find out eventually. They will either open up to you, or the situation will be forced – the secret will simply spill on its own. Give her some time."
Both Malum and Felix regarded Tom with wide eyes. They had honestly never heard their friend speak like this! In fact, a couple of months ago, Tom would never have considered offering any kind of advice on matters of the heart.
"Are you ill?" was the rather blunt question that tumbled out of Felix's mouth in shock.
Tom snorted. "I am feeling perfectly fine, Felix, thank you for asking," he reassured lightly as he too jumped to his feet and – to the surprise of his friends – started packing a bag that had an Undetectable Extension Charm on it with his rapier and daggers. "Malum, my friend, are you up for an evening bout at the Room?" he asked jovially.
Malum blinked a few times before grinning. "Sure! Could do with some training."
The Avery heir gathered his own weapons, Glamoured to look like brooms, and followed Tom up to the Room of Requirement. They got a few funny looks from passing students and had to threaten Peeves with a promise to get Harry to shut him up again if he tried to egg them, but other than that they had no issues getting to the Room, which had already prepared an arena for them.
Malum withdrew his rapier from his bag as Tom unsheathed his.
"Have you done anymore research on the Travellers?" Tom asked curiously.
Malum tensed for a moment as he rose to his feet. "Not exactly. I have been looking into if it is possible to become on via a Mark, but none of the Magical Theory books that I have been reading mention any of that," he answered candidly.
"Not surprising, considering the topic," Tom sighed. Malum waited for the red in his friend's eyes, but was quietly relieved when there wasn't any. Tom flashed him a quick smile. "Out of curiosity, do you still even want to court Ophelia, despite this rift between you?"
Malum blanched at hearing that, an indignant look spreading on his countenance in about five seconds. "Of course I do! It is because I care so much about her that I am annoyed by this!" he shot back as they approached the arena.
"Have you even thought of how you are going to propose courtship to her properly?" Tom raised a challenging eyebrow as the pair raised their swords.
"No, because everything that I come up with will never be as good as I want it to be," Malum scowled to himself. "I am not a poet – I don't have a single creative bone in my body, you know this! And I am afraid of asking Harry for help because I don't want to put her in a position where she has to lie to her friend."
"I doubt Harry would be able to keep the secret for long. Those girls are extremely intuitive," Tom agreed as they exchanged a couple of test blows.
"It's a miracle that Harry managed to keep any secrets in our House for as long as she did," Malum snorted as he countered another attack from Tom. "Though I suppose she is lasting longer than I give her credit for, because I have a feeling that there is still something that girl is hiding."
"She will always be hiding something," Tom answered quietly. "What Harry had to go through, would have likely broken anyone else. More to the point, I don't think we even know the true extent of the horrors she had to witness."
"Probably not," Malum agreed as he parried an attack from Tom. "But at least you know the reason why Harry is hiding something. I have no idea why Ophelia would break the covenant between us!"
"As I said before, just give her some time," Tom countered Malum's attack quite swiftly. "She will tell you eventually. Believe me."
Malum did not feel convinced at all but he decided to drop the subject and instead focus on putting all his frustrations into the duel with Tom. Neither dared to blink as they circled each other, exchanging blow after blow. This continued for another fifteen minutes before Tom managed to catch Malum out on his footwork; he disarmed his opponent and had the Avery heir on the ground, sword pointed at his shoulder, in viper fast moves.
"Yield," the Heir of Slytherin stated with a smirk.
Malum chuckled. "Yes, yes, I yield. Damn it!" he scoffed to himself as his friend helped him up.
"This already better or do we need to do some knife throwing?" Tom asked with a grin.
"Knife throwing sounds good," Malum reassured.
"Best of three?" Tom suggested.
"Sure."
They played three rounds. Tom won the first, but Malum was pretty pleased with himself that he had won the second round. Tom had naturally been a little salty, but that was about it. The third saw Tom win by a narrow margin. Malum was almost disappointed that they had to leave so soon, but he also didn't fancy getting shouted at by teachers or plagued by Peeves.
"So, how are you going to propose to Ophelia?" Tom wanted to know as they descended the stairs to the sixth floor. "Because if you do not get a move on, the girls will do your job for you."
"I know," Malum chuckled. "To be honest a part of me is curious to see what Ophelia would come up with, especially with all her girls helping her."
"I think they will come up with something almost as good as the Boxes Harry made for Altair and me," Tom grinned.
"She definitely went all out with you two," Malum conceded easily as they descended the stairs to the fifth floor and then the fourth quite easily. It seems that the staircases were behaving themselves today.
"Doubt Ophelia would do anything less for you," Tom reassured.
Malum considered this for a moment and found himself smiling. "You're right, as usual."
Tom hummed happily in agreement. The trip down the third and second floor stairs were made in silence as both boys seemed to be lost in thought. It was when they got to the entrance hall of the castle that they heard voices. Voices that were coming in the direction of the dungeons. Carefully Tom and Malum drew closer, trying to keep the wall as much as possible and focusing their hearing as much as they could on these two people.
"-don't see why you are not taking this more seriously."
"Because there is nothing to worry about. How many times do I have to say it?"
Tom and Malum exchanged wide-eyed glances. It were the Malfoy twins!
"Another person knowing the truth about who our Harry actually is, is definitely something to worry about," Abraxas argued.
"You are panicking," Loreley observed serenely.
"Of course, I am! It is bad enough the dominoes are falling one by one; it is downright dangerous that there is someone other than you and me who knows literally everything," Abraxas hissed.
This made Tom and Malum exchange another look.
"If I ask Harry to make sure Ophelia fortifies her Occlumency shields, will that help you settle?" Loreley grumbled. "Because we are out here arguing, where anyone could just hear us and sound more daft than we already are!"
"No, they will think you are normal and I have drunk too much Firewhiskey," Abraxas shot back easily. "You have insulated yourself rather well against such gossip, sister."
It was at this point that Tom and Malum chose to round the corner. Abraxas and Loreley immediately turned to look at them. Abraxas went stiff in seconds. "Tom, Malum. Good evening. Is … everything all right?"
"We just went to the Room to blow off some steam," Tom answered easily. He flashed a smile at Loreley as he walked by them, Malum following closely behind. "Miss Malfoy. Sleep well!"
"You too," Loreley responded whimsically.
As both boys made their way towards their dorm with a level of determination in their step, they were thinking almost the exact same thing.
The Malfoys knew more about Harry, and Ophelia, than they were letting on.
##########################################################################
Uh-oh, it seems the Malfoys had made a rare error? Or did they? What kind of seed will this plant in the minds of Tom and Malum? Will they even react to it? Which candidate will Dippet choose – and how many people will rebel against his decision to bring Hagrid back into the fold? Will Lord Nott realise he is possibly walking into a trap laid by a Potter and the Averys? Stay tuned to find out!
Orion: Malum is an idiot
Harry: Agreed
Queenie: He certainly is stickin' his nose in where it isn't wanted! And your friends were bein' really stupid!
Orion *gasping dramatically*: And Tom is still chasing this Traveller thing too! Ooooo what is going to happen? I am so excited!
Gellert: You get excited at the prospect of new socks! Just like Albus …
Queenie, Harry, Orion: Awwwwwwww!
Gellert: Shut up!
Harry *grinning*: What? It's cute!
Gellert: I am not cute!
*Sighs* Seems like they are back – we will see you in the next chapter.
Kingmaker'sUmbreon
