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Author's Note: I love everyone that reviewed! (The platonic kind of love.)

A/N #2: Again, I've used dialogue, which I'm sure you'll recognize, from HP & SS/PS.

            Harry entered Madam Malkins exactly four minutes late. He looked around and was very surprised to find that his grandmother was not yet there.

            "Can I help you, dear?"

            Harry turned around and saw a kindly old witch smiling at him.  Her smile immediately faded as she took in his long hair and his aristocratic poise.  Her eyes drifted down to his hand and rested on his family rings for a moment then it drifted up and lingered on his telltale scar.

            "Dominus Black!"--she bowed--"if you'll come this way, the young master Malfoy is currently getting fitted."

            Harry nodded and said, "My grandmother will be here shortly; be sure to offer her a seat and tell her of my activities."

            "Of course, milord."  She opened a door.  "Right this way…my assistant will fit you for your robes while I wait for your grandmother."

            "Thank you."  He stepped in and allowed himself to be ushered to a stool by the assistant, who appeared to have been listening in on the conversation through the door.  There was a blond boy standing on the stool next to him.

            "Hello," said the boy.  "Hogwarts too?"

            "Yes," said Harry.

            "My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at owls," said the boy.  He had a bored, drawling voice.  "Then I'm gong to drag them off to look at racing brooms.  I don't see why first years can't have their own.  I think I'll bully father into getting me one, and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

            Harry found himself liking this boy immensely; there was just one problem--"Cousin Narcissa would be easier to convince, and then she can bully Lucius into buying a broom."

            The boy's eyebrow arched.  "You know Mother and Father?"

            Harry waited until the assistant was on the left side of him before reaching out his right hand. "Harold Ophiuchus D…Black," he said, remembering his grandmother's warning about throwing "Dominus" around.  "I met your parents a few years ago when we were at the ministry.  Your father did a good job with the minister."

            Draco, who had yet to be fitted, took the offered hand, but immediately released it and stared at his now red hand.

            "Oh, sorry about that," said Harry.  "My grandmother warned me about that, but I had forgotten."

            "What happened?"

            "The ring," he said, wiggling his middle finger a bit, "recognized you as a family member.  The shock is its way of warning you not to try a coup."

            "Oh…that's helpful."

            "Indeed."

            "What house do you think you'll be in?"

            "I've no idea."

            "No one really does, but I bet I'll be in Slytherin; the whole family has been—imagine being in Hufflepuff…I think I'd leave; wouldn't you?"

            "Better Hufflepuff than Gryffindor."

            The blond seemed to consider this before nodding: "Good point."

            "All right, milord, you're done."

            Harry nodded at Draco--"I'll see you at Hogwarts"--and then he left the room.

            Harry stepped into the front room and made his way to where his grandmother was sitting.

            "It's about time you came out; what were you doing in there?"

            "I just met my cousin Draco Malfoy—charming boy."

            Cassiopeia nodded.  "Is he anything like Lucius?"

            "He's not as rude."

            "Will you be able to cultivate him?"

            "With time.  For now I will make an effort to befriend him; later we can discuss an alliance."

            She nodded.  "Do so."  She arose from the plush chair and made her way to the door.  "We'll go to the jeweler's and then to get you a familiar."

            "Curse the ministry for naming the 'Piercing curse' a Dark curse."

            His grandmother just chuckled and said.  "Let's get you a familiar; what do you want?"

            "A snake."

            "Well then we'll have to go down to Knockturn Alley."

            The shop was called "Magical Monsters."  It was a rundown building that seemed to be made more of dirt than wood.  After they entered, they had to wait for their eyes to get accustomed to the lack of light.  Harry turned to his grandmother, and they stared at each other for a little while before she waved him off saying, "Go and pick something out.  I'll go get the shop keeper."

            Harry looked around for a bit.  He talked to several of the snakes, but most of them seemed happy where they were.  He had just about given up when he saw it.  He carefully grabbed the box and made his way to where the shopkeeper was talking with his grandmother.

"Excuse me, sir."

            The shopkeeper looked down his nose at him and demanded in a nasally tone, "Yes?"

            Harry smirked up at him: "Isn't it illegal to sell Basilisk eggs?"

            "I don't know what you are talking about young man."

            "Then you wouldn't mind me taking this, free of charge?"

            "Yes, I would mind!"

            "I don't think you will."

            "That was impressive."

            "Thank you, grandmother."

            "Is it really a Basilisk egg?"

            "Yes."

            "Can you make it hatch?"

            "Yes."

            "Will it be dangerous?"

            "According to the Diary of Herpo the Foul, the eye-of-death is a voluntary defense mechanism; they are able to turn it on and off at will."

            "You've read the Diary of Herpo the Foul?"

            "It's written in Parseltounge; you wouldn't be able to read it."

            This seemed to pacify his grandmother.  "You can control it though?"

            "Yes."

            "That's good.  We wouldn't want it to kill anyone on accident."

            Harry smiled at her wording.  They had been home for an hour and all the while she had been questioning him.

            "So, what did you learn?"

            "Dumbledore had Hagrid withdraw something from his personal vault, the same vault that was robbed yesterday, remember? It was in the Daily Prophet this morning."

            His grandmother looked at him appreciatively.  "Whatever it was, it must be valuable.  Keep your ears open when you get to Hogwarts; we must take every opportunity to take our vengeance."

            "Yes Grandmother"

            "Remember, you must be wary of him; he will try to corrupt you."

            "I remember the things he said about our family, the lies he spoke about you.  He will not corrupt me."

            "You can find out more about your new familiar tomorrow.  Goodnight Harold"

            "Goodnight Grandmother."

            Flashback

            A young boy sat on a hard bench.  Before him was the only person he had ever known being called a criminal by an old man with a false smile.  His attention wavered. They were asking him a question.

            "Has she ever hurt you?"

            "I don't understand."

            "Has Mrs. Black ever hurt you?"

            "Grandma? Why would she hurt me?"

            The voice chuckled.  "We'll take that as a 'no.'  Do you know who your mother was?"

            The boy looked up at the man.  "Yes, my mother was named Lily Potter."

            "Do you know who your father was?"

            "Sirius Black."

            "Do you know who James Potter was?"

            "He was my godfather."

            There was a general murmuring, and the old man shouted, "Do you see?  She not only kidnapped him, but she has filled his ears with her lies!"

            Harry looked at the old man.  "She did not!"  The floor cracked and the old man's chair legs started to burn.

Lucius Malfoy stood up and shouted over the din, "There is another way!  Use the Genealogy Charm to discover his parents.

He pointed his wand at Harry and suddenly four words formed over his head:

SIRIUS BLACK and LILITH POTTER

The old man conjured a chair and sat down, and for a moment Harry was scared.  The man had malice in his eyes, but the moment passed and the man was smiling again.  "An old man's mistake.  I'm afraid I must offer my apologies."  He left the chair and nodded toward the minister.  He then walked out of the room.

But his malice-filled eyes haunted Harry's dreams.

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