A/N: Once again, I own nothing. I will update within the next week.

The Heir

Chapter 3

On the Train

September 1 arrived much too quickly, in Harry's opinion. He had been having a lot of fun with Ginny. They spent their days either exploring the Black estate or staying in the ballroom. Ginny was attempting to teach Harry to dance. He was not terrible, per se. It was just difficult to concentrate with Ginny. She was so beautiful.

Harry sometimes joked with her that the only thing that rivaled her beauty was the ballroom itself. The ceiling was enchanted like the one at Hogwarts, but this ceiling was enchanted to always show a clear night sky, which made for a very elegant backdrop. Around the room were portraits of Black family's from over the centuries. On the very end of the wall furthest from the door was a portrait of Mrs. Black, her husband, a pompous-looking man with straight black hair, and their two sons. It must have been taken right before Sirius had left home. He looked just as the Sirius in the Pensieve had looked, with short, dark hair and a goofy, lopsided grin.

Beside the family portrait was a case filled with mementos from Regulus Black's life. There was a magical picture of him with his mother and father at his graduation from Hogwarts. Another picture of him as a young man, laughing with friends. There was his wand and other magical devices, similar to the ones in Dumbledore's office. There were several awards that had been given to him throughout school. He had been a prefect for Slytherin and had played chaser on the House team. A copy of both his O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. scores revealed that he had obviously been an excellent wizard, receiving O's in Transfiguration, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Ancient Runes. There were also certain personal items, jewelry, journals, and such, in a box with the Black family crest.

Harry did not know why, but he would spend hours at a time looking over Regulus' things. Maybe it was just the fact that Harry saw a lot of Sirius in his brother. The only picture in the entire house containing Sirius was that family portrait. Harry had decided to make it his personal mission to put up something similar to this for Sirius.

As Harry clambered into the Ministry car with Ginny, Kingsley and Mr. Weasley, he thought about this being his last time going to Hogwarts. He wondered to himself where he would live after graduating. Grimmauld Place would be one option, but he was not sure that was where he wanted to live. Ginny seemed to pick up on his thoughts.

"I cannot imagine what it would be like living here all the time. I just about went crazy when we stayed her that whole summer. You can tell that Dark wizards lived there for centuries." Harry had to agree with her. Since he had started studying Legilimency, he had been able to pick up on certain magical signatures. When Mrs. Weasley performed a spell, it left a pleasant impression in the room, almost like the smell of cinnamon. A more powerful wizard, like Moody, would leave a stronger impression, not as pleasant and cheerful, but not bad. Some rooms in the Black house, however, left Harry feeling physically sick. It was obvious that in nearly every room there was some trace of Dark magic.

The most evident place being Regulus Black's study. It was linked to one corner of the library by a plain black door. It was a simply furnished room, with no windows or paintings. There was just a singular desk facing the doorway and a few old books written in a language Harry could not understand. There were obvious traces of Dark magic. The first time he had walked into the room, he nearly fainted and had had to lie down for several minutes.

In addition to his ability to feel magical signatures, Harry was also able to read people. He could look at a person and tell the amount of evil that person contained. It was rather amusing to look at how people really were. How they really thought and felt, what there actual soul was like. It was very interesting.

Take the Weasley's for example. Mrs. Weasley was, as you can imagine, almost entirely good, with merely a trace of evil that sparked up when she was angry. Ron was entirely good. Sappily good. There was no evil in him. Mr. Weasley and Charlie were much the same way. Bill was closer to Mrs. Weasley, with a thin vein of evil that occasionally sparked up, though his more often sparked up when whispering to Fleur.

Ginny and the Twins were mainly good, but all three had a bit of evil here or there, just enough to be mischievous without actually wanting to harm anyone. Percy was very good, but he had a large vein of evil, filled with ambition and fear. Fear of failure, which can really be considered another form of ambition. He was a good-person overall, but if he wanted something enough, he had no problem running over everyone in his path to achieve his goals.

Lupin was confusing. He was almost entirely good the first time Harry had tried to read him, with only a small essence of evil buried deep inside of him. But as time went on, the evil seemed to grow. And this wasn't playful evil like the twins, or evil driven by ambition with Percy. Those seemed to have reasons behind them, as well as limits. Lupin's evil was pure. It was as if the evil just came there naturally. Harry presumed that this had something to do with Lupin being a werewolf. Just to prove his point, after the full moon (during which Harry could feel the hunger radiating from Lupin), Lupin's evil was back to a normal proportion.

At the station, they were met by Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Tonks, Mrs. Weasley, Moody, and several other Order members. Bill and Fleur were there with Fleur's parents and Gabrielle. They all waved heartily. Gabrielle and Fleur's mother seemed apprehensive about her youngest daughter being so far from home. Their father, however, saw Harry and immediately strode over.

" Montague Delacour. It is an honor to finally meet you." His English was flawless, as was most everything about his dress and carriage. He was wearing a dark gray suit with a navy blue necktie. His bangs were short and brushed neatly to one side. He had no facial hair, not even stubble. "I would like to talk to you briefly. If I may, Arthur." Mr. Weasley nodded, seeming a little suspicious. "Now, Harry, I assume you have met my daughter, Gabrielle." It was a question more than a statement. Harry nodded, feeling there were no words that could answer that particular question without lengthening the discussion. "She is a wonderful girl. Wouldn't you agree?" Again, Harry simply nodded. "She has just turned thirteen, which means the Rites will begin this year-"

"What rites, sir?"

Mr. Delacour laughed genially. "The Rites of Passage. All daughter's of Veela and part-Veela must go through them. You must have heard of them?"

"No sir, I can't say that I have."

"Well, I will briefly explain them. All Veela and part-Veela must go through several rituals before they reach the age of fourteen. The first four are merely incantations and the such. The next two are trials. They must prove their magical ability. The last is different for different girls. Oldest daughters, like Fleur, must swear to carry on the legacy of the Veela, promising to have at least two children and spend their lives raising their children. They are not allowed to have jobs, they must just be stay at home mothers."

"That sounds terrible." Harry hoped Hermione never heard about this.

"Eh. Most enjoy it. It is in the Veela blood, that need to protect their children, to be with them as often as possible. Both my wife and Fleur have no problem with just being mothers. They are just thankful that they were not youngest daughters."

"What do youngest daughters have to do?" Harry asked, wondering what was worst than having to give up all of your dreams of having a career.

"Before their fourteenth birthdays, they must be betrothed." He finished the sentence and then stared at Harry expectantly, waiting for him to speak next.

"Er...and what happens if they do not get betrothed by their birthday?" Harry was trying to put off the question he knew Mr. Delacour was waiting to ask next.

"They die," he answered bluntly. "So, would you be willing?"

Harry inhaled deeply. "I'm sorry, sir. I can't." Harry half-expected Mr. Delacour to be angry. Instead, he seemed sad.

"It is fine. I just, well, Arthur said you are immune to the effects of the Veela. I don't want Gabrielle to be with someone whom she can't even carry a normal conversation with." Harry nodded, then he had an idea.

"If you would like, I could try to help find Gabrielle a, erm, would suitor be the correct word?"

Mr. Delacour chuckled lightly. "I do not think Gabrielle would appreciate me getting outside help in finding her a husband."

"Well, we just won't tell her then." Mr. Delacour pulled Harry into a bone-crushing hug and would not stop thanking him. Harry's first impression of Mr. Delacour as being an upright gentleman was as broken as his ribs.

Harry and the others were escorted by the Order members to the train. Mrs. Weasley looked as sad as Harry had ever seen her. "Oh! Ron, I can't believe that this will be your last time going to Hogwarts. Oh my babies just aren't babies anymore. I remember your first time to see the train, when Bill left for the first time..." Mrs. Weasley continued muttering to herself incoherently for quite some time. Mr. Weasley said she would be inconsolable for the next few days. She had, apparently, done the same thing when her other sons had gotten on the train for the last time.

Harry said goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and all the other Order members who were not going to be stationed at or around Hogwarts. "Hey, Potter," growled Moody, " Say hello to your new professors for me. I met 'um at that last Order meeting. Good chaps, seemed like to me."

"I'll do that, Professor." With one last wave to everyone, Harry and Ginny went to find a compartment. Harry, deep in conversation with Ginny, barely noticed the stairs of his fellow students as he walked the length of the train. In the last compartment, they found Neville and Luna, sitting in companionable silence, Luna reading the Quibbler (this one with a story on the secret marriage of Lord Voldemort and the Yeti), while Neville stare out of the window. With his new Legilimency skills, Harry could tell that Neville was thinking of his first train ride. Harry thought back to his own for a moment: meeting Ron and Hermione, who were now his best friends, as well as Draco Malfoy, who Harry had thought of often since that fateful night when Dumbledore had died. Malfoy had been instructed to kill Dumbledore. He had brought several Death Eaters into the castle to lead the attack. He was the reason Dumbledore was dead. Thinking about this, Harry's insides burned with anger. "Malfoy will pay for what he did to Dumbledore," he thought to himself.

"But Malfoy did not kill Professor Dumbledore. Snape did," said a small voice in Harry's head.

Harry was broken out of his angry contemplation by Ginny's greeting of Neville and Luna. They both replied their hello. Harry, Ginny, and Neville started a discussion of Quidditch tactics for the upcoming season while Luna kept reading the Quibbler. About an hour into the train ride, Ron and Hermione returned from the prefects' compartment. They had been selected as Head Boy and Girl by Professor McGonagall, who was the new Headmistress. Both looked rather flustered.

"Because of all the Ministry regulations on owls, we have had to pass out O.W.L. results to all the sixth years," stated Hermione breathlessly. " You would not believe how many started yelling at Ron and me, as if it was our fault they only got an "Acceptable" in Transfiguration. Here Luna, Ginny."

Ginny had received O's in Transfiguration and Charms, as well as E's in Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Ancient Runes, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Luna had received O's in Charms and Herbology, with E's in History of Magic, Transfiguration, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Care of Magical Creatures. Both received A's in everything else.

"Wow, those are better than mine," remarked Harry.

"Not where it counts, though." Harry looked around and was surprised to find that it was Luna who had spoken.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, your the only one who got an "O" in Defense Against the Dark Arts. With the way things are now, that is really the only class that counts. It is the most important thing we can study at Hogwarts. Your "O" could be the difference between life and death for hundreds, maybe thousands, of people."

This was one of those uncomfortable things Luna would say. Harry knew she was right. "Probably more than she knew she was right," he muttered to himself. He just could not, for the life of him, get his head around the idea that he could be the savior of mankind.

Before things could get too awkward, however, a brash looking fifth year, sporting a Ravenclaw prefect badge opened the compartment door, holding, four rolls of parchment. He handed one each to Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville. As Harry had expected, they were invitations to have tea with Professor Slughorn. The four slowly made their way to the end of the train Slughorn held these little get-togethers.

"Harry, my boy, good to see you, good to see you," roared the Potions Master. "Ginny, Hermione, Neville, always a pleasure. Would any of you like some roast duck?"

"Not right now."

"Not hungry."

"Got to save room for the feast."

"Harry, I've got two people I would like for you to meet. These two gentleman are from the U.S. They've transferred here to finish their education, while teaching. Can you imagine?" He motioned towards two figures standing at the back of the room while dragging Harry by the elbow. "Mr. Shockley, Mr. Holden, I would like to introduce you to Harry Potter."

Shockley stepped forward first. He was nothing like Harry had pictured the person who was to train him to fight Voldemort would look like. He was Harry's age, with short brown hair. He was a little stocky, not unlike Charlie Weasley. Harry had expected a killing machine. He seemed pleasant, like the kind of person that was so nice that everyone thought he was a little weird. Harry could tell through his heightened awareness that this guy had no evil in him. He had a very peppy attitude, from what Harry could surmise. " It is an honor meeting you Harry, really. The name's Thomas Shockley. I'll be teaching you Transfiguration this year, what with McGonagall bein' Headmistress now. I'll miss Dumbledore. Only ever got to meet him the one time. Excellent man though, really excellent. Oh, and this here's Holden."

" Silas Holden." He nodded curtly at Harry as he shook his hand. If the first one was weird, this one was scary. He was proportioned like Thomas, but on a much larger scale. He stood at about six-foot four, with wide shoulders and thick legs. Harry did not know whether or not you would call him chubby. He was stout, but not so much fat as just big. He did not smile but stared intently at Harry, his eyes boring into Harry's eyes.

" He's scarier than Snape," Harry thought to himself. Holden radiated a magical intensity that made Harry a little dizzy. "How am I supposed to survive classes with this guy, let alone have extra lessons? I can't even read him without getting nauseated."

" Well, it's...er... Nice meeting both of you, Professors."

"Oh, please Harry, call me Thomas," laughed Professor Shockley, uh, Thomas. His voice had small traces of a southern American accent.

" You may keep calling me "Professor" if you like," muttered Holden dryly. For the first time Harry saw him smile. It was not so much a smile as a sneer, revealing large, slightly yellowing teeth. Their was no real happiness, just a sort of sick humor. It disturbingly reminded Harry of the hungry, almost animal-like smile of the young Tom Riddle. He shuddered at the thought.

For the rest of the train ride, Harry could not get his mind off of the two new student/teachers. Thomas was talking congenially with Hermione about, what else, House Elves. Harry could here him saying "Well, I like your spunk, but House Elves are gonna be House Elves, and there ain't nothing' you can do about it." Silas merely rolled his eyes. He obviously considered such idiotic thought like changing House Elves as below him. Harry could not imagine anyone thinking they were above Hermione. He remained quiet, however, choosing not to comment.

"What do you think of these two new professors," said a voice in Harry's ear that Harry recognized as belonging to Ginny.

" Well, the shorter one, Thomas, is nice enough, though he seems a little on the weird side. And Silas is just scary."

"I'm telling you, Harry," commented Neville, who was standing to his right. "Gives me the willies."

" You know who he reminds me of," whispered Harry, so that only Ginny and Neville could hear. "He reminds me of Tom Riddle, when he was in school."

" But Harry," muttered Neville, "is-isn't, well, I mean, You-Know-Who, his real name is Tom Riddle, isn't it. Is that who you're talking about?" Harry nodded darkly.

"He's not as fake as Riddle was, either," Harry continued forbiddingly. "Riddle did terrible things in school, but presented a respectable face. This Silas guy seems like he would kill you and brag to your mother about it. I don't trust him."

Okay, if no one reviews, I might just forget about updating. You heard me. As if this fic really matters that much to you that you cannot bear the thought of living without it.