As September gave way to October, the five kept themselves busy with their classes and quidditch. Seeker and Chaser were relieved that they did not have to fly with dementors nearby, to the point that both would have considered withdrawing from the team. Even the idea of a dementor was chilling to them, despite having never seen the genuine article.
Spellforged and Marigold, who did have to contend with the creatures, were just happy that they didn't play quidditch, and thus didn't have to worry.
It was a thought that occupied more of the group's discussions as the first Hogsmeade weekend approached. If there was a sighting of Bellatrix Lestrange in the village, or even a suspicious person who might be the escaped witch, the dementors would surely investigate. Their attack on the train suggested that they would not limit themselves to convicted criminals. Spellforged worried that the students might be at risk.
He had almost skipped the weekend entirely, and would have if his father had not asked to meet with him. A trip to London was out of the question without some sort of justification, and a father wanting to sit down with his adopted son did not qualify. So, they would meet in the village. Spellforged was eager to know what could be so important as to draw his father out of the bank.
Rose would have joined him in giving the weekend a miss, if it had not been for Daphne Greengrass' efforts.
Marigold took advantage of the opportunity to meet with Sirius, and planned to bring Professor Lupin along. The revelation of her boggart - and what it meant - had weighed on her, and she suspected it would weigh on Sirius as well, once she told the tale. He had nothing to feel guilty about, of course, and this meeting was partly to reassure him of that fact.
The two were growing closer as time went on, even though she did not (yet!) live with her godfather on a full time basis. He seemed to know just what to say to calm her down, and could tell almost instinctively when her anxiety was high. It was a comfort she had never truly had, and she cherished it.
Seeker didn't have any grand plans for his trip to the village - which likely made him the one who looked forward to it the most. He was joined by Ron and Hermione, as expected. When Neville looked uncertain about going, they teamed up to convince him to come with them.
In the back of his mind, Seeker wondered if Sirius would be in his version of the village, as he was with Marigold's. He considered sending Hedwig with a letter, but decided against it. If they met up, great, but if not he'd still enjoy time away from the castle with his friends.
Chaser, too, had no firm plan. He was surprised to learn that Amelia Bones would be in the village, helping to manage security for the influx of students from the castle. There was no escaped witch or wizard to worry about, but Chaser's conversations with Amelia and his father had given the Aurors pause. They decided to increase security, partially as a training exercise in preparation for next summer's World Cup. It was a good chance to force aurors used to the same assignments to do something different, and she was eager to see how it went.
All in all, the weekend promised to be a busy one. Each of the five looked forward to it for different reasons, but all were eager to see what Hogsmeade had to offer.
oOoOoOoOo
Professor Snape usually looked forward to Hogsmeade weekends, as it afforded him plenty of time to brew without students underfoot. Even with the younger years remaining in the castle, the quiet was almost peaceful.
Unfortunately, the Potions Master had been summoned to a meeting in the village. He was told only that a solicitor named Robert Fitzpatrick needed to meet with him, in his official capacity as Head of House for Slytherin. That statement had given the man pause - what business would an outside solicitor have with him?
Fitzpatrick had an office in Hogsmeade, which Snape found easily. As he was ushered into a conference room, he stifled a groan. There, seated at the long table, were three men, two of whom he recognized. With them here, the subject of this meeting could only be Rose Potter, which in turn meant that nothing about it would be simple.
It was the older of the two men who greeted him first. Joseph Hillyer stood and nodded in greeting.
"Good morning, Professor," he said.
"Lord Hillyer," Snape acknowledged. Then he turned to the other man. "Lord Black," he intoned.
Sirius looked conflicted for a moment, before he likewise stood and nodded. "Professor," he said.
Snape stifled a smirk. Black had clearly been warned to behave, and was taking the warning seriously.
The third man greeted Snape, before resuming his seat. He was, as Snape had guessed, the solicitor who had requested the meeting.
"I received a letter from Gringotts, last week," Fitzpatrick began. "Felwrath, Chief Archivist of Gringotts, London, advised me that one of my clients had reactivated a dead line."
Snape's eyebrows rose at that. Even if a family was wiped out, there were always cousins or relations who could continue the line. For a family to have been declared a dead line was unheard of in recent memory, at least in Wizarding Britain.
"I can take a guess as to which line, Robert," began Hillyer. "But why don't you cut to the chase and fill us in?"
Fitzpatrick nodded. "Very well. Somehow, and I was not told how, the Heiress Potter has been named Regent for the House of Slytherin."
The three were gobsmacked. After a full minute, it was Hillyer who recovered first.
"Regent? Not Lady Slytherin?"
Fitzpatrick shook his head. "The family's rules are quite specific. A wizard or witch gifted with parseltongue must face some sort of trial and survive. They then must be acknowledged as a leader of the house, before the family magic in turn acknowledges them as Regent."
"Rose Potter is a Parselmouth," Hillyer said, almost to himself.
"Would slaying a bloody great basilisk count as a trial, I wonder?" Sirius asked.
"Likely," agreed Hillyer. He turned to Snape, whose eyes were still wide at the revelation. "Would you say that Rose is one of the leaders in your house, Professor?"
Snape looked decidedly uncomfortable as he considered the question. The inner workings of Slytherin had always been unique among the four houses - but how else could it be when the most ambitious students were concentrated in one place? As the sons and daughters of the noble houses played politics in the snake pit, they formed alliances that would carry over into the Wizengamot.
They also formed grudges, as well - something few considered.
Rose Potter had upended the whole dynamic, merely by being sorted into Slytherin. Then she spent her first year reaching out to the other houses, helping her yearmates raise their grades as well as her own. She followed that by calling out a member of her house for speaking without thinking - a cardinal sin in the house of snakes.
This year had seen her lead representatives of the three other houses in welcoming the first years. Even to those who did not find themselves sorted into the green and silver, it made her (and her yearmates) approachable.
Most of his Slytherins built their cliques and networks within their house. Rose was reaching out to all houses, and succeeding.
Slytherins talked about grasping power. Rose Potter had no need to do so - for her peers would hand her power, willingly. Already the younger years - the ones she had welcomed and the ones she had defended - looked to her for guidance. And guidance they got, as well as help on their homework, if they needed it.
Snape looked around the table, and nodded. "Yes, I think it would be safe to say that Rose Potter is one of the leaders of my house. Whether she sought out that role or not, it is how the younger years see her. Helping to defend a prefect, when he was attacked last year, did not hurt her reputation with the upper years, as well."
Sirius chuckled to himself. "I never figured James and Lily would send a kid into Slytherin, that's for sure."
Snape scoffed at that. "I don't disagree, Black. But when I saw Rose Potter that first year - how she kept quiet, letting others talk first, always listening and learning - it reminded me of a certain red-haired muggleborn in the house of lions." He looked Sirius in the eye, willing him to understand. "It took Lily quite a while to come out of her shell, didn't it?"
A nod. "Yeah, it did," Sirius agreed.
Hillyer still seemed a bit shaken, and turned back to Fitzpatrick. "What does this mean for Rose, Robert? Does she become Rose Potter-Slytherin, or something?"
"Not as such, no," Fitzpatrick replied. "Normally, a regent protects and guides a house until its heir can take over. Here, there is no family link to Slytherin's line. It's almost as if… no, that couldn't be…" His voice trailed off.
Hillyer frowned. "No idea is too stupid at this point, what are you thinking?"
The Irishman looked up, a troubled expression on his face. "I believe the Slytherin family magic may have chosen her to protect the house."
After a moment, Snape voiced the question they were all thinking.
"Protect it from what?"
oOoOoOoOo
Chaser Potter chuckled to himself as he and Susan entered the Three Brooksticks.
The room was packed, as one might expect during the first Hogsmeade weekend. It didn't help matters that he arrived at almost the exact stroke of noon, when the pub would be its busiest. Fortunately for him, he had an extra pair of eyes.
Back corner, a booth just opened up. Some Ravenclaws got up and left.
Seeker's voice in his head drew his attention to his right, and the four tall students in blue trimmed robes. They were indeed leaving, and their booth was perfect for what he needed.
Thanks, mate, Chaser replied over the link.
All part of the service, came Seeker's cheeky reply.
As he and Susan made their way to the now vacant booth, Chaser wondered if his world and Seeker's were the most similar out of the five. After all, they were the two Harry Potters out of the group, and both had been sorted into the red and gold. Both played quidditch. Both had similar friend groups. And they could pull stunts like this, when they worked at it.
Of course, there were some key differences as well, as the group approaching his table proved.
"Dad!" Chaser called, getting his father's attention.
James Potter turned at the sound, and waved back at his son. Amelia Bones followed behind him, smiling at her niece. The third member of their group, however, was a surprise.
"Harry," his father began, as he took his seat. "You remember Lord Hillyer?"
Chaser nodded, extending his hand. "I do indeed. He held our proxy for a while, didn't he?"
"I did have that honour, yes," Hillyer said with a smile. "Miss Bones, good afternoon."
Susan nodded in return. "Lord Hillyer, a pleasure."
"Right, enough of that," Amelia said, bringing the traditional courtesies to a close. "Let's eat, I'm starving."
Chaser noticed that his Aunt was wearing her official robes, and commented. "Don't they give you weekends off, Aunt Amelia?" he asked.
Amelia sighed. "They do, but I decided to run a security drill this weekend, since you lot are here taking over the village," she said with a smile. "It's good practice for next summer."
There could be only one event next summer that would require such security. Chaser's eyes darted over to his father, who laughed.
"Yes, we already got tickets." James could say nothing more, as he got a hug from his son.
The conversation continued over lunch, and Chaser found it to be a relaxing break from the great hall's usual fare. It was good to see his father, as well, for Chaser had underestimated how much he missed that connection to home.
Towards the end of the meal, Susan and James got into a friendly debate about Lord Hillyer, and what house he would have been sorted into had he attended Hogwarts. His comment that both of his parents had been Gryffindors simply delighted James, who argued that Hillyer would have followed his parents' path.
Susan, meanwhile, suggested that the Horned Serpent house at Ilvermorney was closer to Ravenclaw than anything else at Hogwarts.
"Well argued, Miss Bones," Hillyer chuckled.
As the three continued to banter back and forth, Chaser leaned over to Amelia.
"Lord Hillyer was Proxy for House Potter, right?" he asked.
She nodded. "During the first war, yes."
Chaser nodded in return. "Why?"
Amelia blinked at that. "Why, what?"
Chaser inclined his head at his father, laughing at another of Susan's comments to Hillyer. "Why did my father need a proxy? A named proxy, I mean, something more than just a one-off for a missed meeting."
Amelia considered the question, and then shrugged. "I don't know, you'd have to ask him."
Chaser nodded. "Maybe I will, sometime."
oOoOoOoOo
Seeker took a sip of his butterbeer, and looked around his own table at the Three Broomsticks. He smiled at the fact that it was the same table - exactly - at which Chaser was enjoying his own lunch.
Unlike Chaser, of course, Seeker was surrounded only by his friends.
Hermione and Ron had planned to go on their own, not expecting Seeker to be able to join them. Neville, for his part, had not planned to go at all. When it came out that Sirius had been able to sign his permission slip, plans quickly changed.
The four had not been alone for the entire time, either. Fred and George had stopped by and said hello as the group waited for food. Their suggestion of a small snack beforehand had Seeker asking if they had been to Zonko's yet.
The twins looked at each other, and then put the pranked candy away.
"Five points to Gryffindor," they had said, getting laughs from the group. Which, of course, was their main goal, as always. They offered a theatrical bow, and then left, looking for easier targets.
Daphne Greengrass had also gone to the Three Broomsticks, alongside Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode. When she caught Seeker's eye across the pub, she raised her butterbeer in salute. He did the same, getting a small nod from the blonde Slytherin.
It wasn't as if Slytherins could have lunch with Gryffindors, these days. Not yet, anyway. Spurred on by Rose, Seeker was already working on plans to unite the houses. He had high hopes, but only time would tell.
There were enough walls, he reasoned. It's easier to build bridges. If he was going to play the long game, those bridges would be essential.
As Spellforged had said, Seeker thought. Only time would tell.
oOoOoOoOo
/You need to be more cautious, my son,/ Ragnok began.
It was not how Harry Spellforged had expected this lunch meeting to begin.
/Of course, Father,/ he replied. /May I ask how I have been incautious, since we parted ways last month?/
Ragnok sighed deeply, and for the first time Spellforged thought that his father felt the weight of his years. He seemed tired, to wizard's eyes. It was unsettling.
/I was presented with an invoice from the Ministry of Magic, Harry,/ Ragnok said. /Did you truly injure a dementor?/
Spellforged's eyes widened at that. /I stabbed the one that came into our cabin on the train, sir,/ he answered. /When I regained consciousness, however, my blade was clean of everything except frost. If I injured the creature, it is a surprise to me./
/Be that as it may,/ Ragnok replied. /The Ministry held the Nation responsible./
/Do they hold that creature responsible for nearly kissing me?/ Spellforged replied with a snarl.
/They said that the dementor was looking for the Lestrange woman, and was conducting a search of the train, as was proper./ Ragnok's tone told his son exactly what he thought of that excuse.
/We shovel better quality material than that from the dragon pits,/ Spellforged spat.
Ragnok chuckled at that. /You're not wrong./ Then the old goblin grew somber, and looked his son in the eye. /But nevertheless, my son, I need you to tread lightly./
/I always tread lightly, Father,/ replied Spellforged.
That got a snort of laughter from Ragnok. /Oh, yes, remind me who stabbed a troll two years ago?/
/That was one time./
/So it was, so it was,/ Ragnok chuckled.
The pair were interrupted by the arrival of their food. The server set the plates on the table, and then left the private room. Again, Ragnok waved his hand at the door, locking it.
/Look, Harry, all I am saying is that there are forces at work in the world, and within the Nation, who would pounce on any sign of weakness. I trust you, and I know you are worthy of that trust, so all I need to tell you is this - be cautious./ Ragnok's intense gaze focused squarely on Spellforged's green eyes.
/I understand, Director,/ Spellforged replied. He could tell that this wasn't just his father speaking, but Director Ragnok of the Clan Ragnok. On that basis alone, he would give the warning its due weight.
Something his father had said bothered him, however.
/You said there are goblins working against you?/ Spellforged asked. /And yet they live?/
Ragnok grinned his toothy grin. /How can we teach them the error of their ways if we kill them quickly?/ he asked.
/This is true,/ acknowledged Spellforged. He very carefully did not take notice of the fact that his father had dodged the question - something he had not expected.
Ragnok abruptly changed topics. /Enough of that, son. Tell me of your classes. How goes your year?/
For the next hour and a half, father and son relished the chance to catch up. Their meals grew cold, largely forgotten, as the pair just talked.
Spellforged's worries - and those of his father - could wait for another day.
oOoOoOoOo
Another private room saw Marigold Potter pacing back and forth. Hermione Granger was sitting at the table, watching her nervous friend.
"They'll be here, Mari," she said.
"I know, Hermione, I know," Marigold replied. That did not stop her pacing, of course.
The knock at the door, however, did. Marigold gave a wide-eyed look to Hermione, who smiled back at her friend as she answered.
"Come in!" she called.
The door opened, and two wizards entered. Professor Lupin, smiling as he rarely did in class, was already deep in a conversation with Sirius. Both seemed to be in good spirits.
Marigold hoped that this discussion would not bring those spirits down. Literally.
Sirius had met Hermione before, and of course the Professor knew her as well, so there were no introductions to buy time. It fell to Marigold to get right to the heart of matters.
"Sirius," she began. "Did Professor Lupin explain what happened in his class last month? With the Boggart?"
Sirius frowned, and looked at Remus. "Not really. If something had happened to hurt you, I hope I would have gotten word." He turned to Marigold. "Is everything alright?"
Marigold nodded. "I'm fine, but I wasn't then. And after I explain, I don't know if you will be. So please, Siri, please hear me out before you say anything, alright?"
Sirius, now worried, began to object, but then he saw the look in his goddaughter's eyes, and the worry on Hermione's face. He gathered himself, and nodded. "Of course, Marigold. Whatever you need."
She nodded. "Thank you, truly."
When she seemed to struggle with how to begin, Lupin took up the story.
"We were confronting a boggart in class. I almost did not let Marigold take her turn, expecting you-know-who to appear or something similar. But, in a move that reminded me of her father, young Marigold distracted me, and she took her turn." His eyes did not go to Hermione as he spoke, but the girl looked sheepish anyway.
"When the wardrobe opened," Marigold said quietly, "It was an astronaut in a spacesuit."
Sirius blinked. "That wasn't what I would expect."
"Me, neither," Marigold said. "But it made sense, when I thought about the dementor on the train." She closed her eyes, and sighed. "See, when the dementor drew near, I heard screams. I heard mum's scream. I saw a flash of green."
"The night that…" Sirius trailed off. "Merlin, Mari…"
She nodded. "I know. But it's what I heard next that stayed with me." She looked at Sirius with watery eyes. "You were there just after it happened, what did you see?"
Sirius closed his eyes. "Marigold, I don't know if…" He trailed off as she interrupted.
"You don't know if I need to know. But that's the thing, Padfoot, I already know. I want to hear it from you." Marigold's voice was firm, even as her tears threatened to fall.
Sirius took a deep breath, and nodded. "Alright. You were in your crib, screaming." He smiled, in spite of himself. "You had a set of lungs on you, even then. If you were injured, you'd never have been able to put out that kind of noise. And your crib was intact, so I looked at your brother's."
"His crib wasn't intact," she replied.
"No. No, it was not. Part of the roof had collapsed, when…. well, whatever happened, happened. That crushed part of Harry's crib, which pinned him under the debris." Sirius closed his eyes, thinking back to that day - and his own dementor memory. Marigold deserved to hear it, though, however hard it was, and so he kept going. "He was hurt badly. The detailed injuries, you don't need to know. Let it stand that if we moved the broken crib off of him, he would have died immediately. As it was, I could tell he was fading fast."
Lupin placed a hand on Sirius' shoulder, and Sirius placed a hand on it in return.
"Harry recognized me, Marigold. Called me 'Pa'foo'. So I held his hand, and sang to him as he passed on." Sirius' voice was a whisper as he spoke.
Hermione's eyes grew wide, as she realized what had happened. "The song, you sang it to him before, right? To get him to sleep?"
Sirius nodded. "To get both of them to sleep. Some nights one would not rest until the other was out, it seemed."
"That song, Sirius," Marigold said, her voice shaking. "That's what I hear when the dementors come." She looked up at him, the tears flowing freely now. "My brother dying, that song… That's the saddest moment of my life."
Sirius almost gasped. "The one with Major Tom? That song?" He put a hand over his mouth. "Oh Merlin, Marigold, I'm so sorry…"
She cut him off by coming around the table and hugging him.
"None of that," she said, holding back sobs. "You were with Harry when he passed, you sang him on his way. Nothing you have done, before or since, could have been kinder than that." She looked up at her godfather. "And I'll always be grateful."
Lupin watched as godfather and goddaughter wept together. He leaned over to Hermione, who was fighting tears of her own.
"I understand now," he said simply.
She nodded. "She couldn't let it be, until she thanked him."
oOoOoOoOo
As Harry Spellforged was enjoying lunch with his father, Director Ragnok, another meeting was taking place at the Hog's Head Inn. Unlike that first meeting, however, this one was a surprise to most of its participants.
It began on the outskirts of the village, when a well-dressed wizard spoke to a shadow.
"Room Three of the Hog's Head, Madam. Be there in one hour and have your questions answered."
As he walked on, having barely broken his stride, a cloaked figure peered out of the shadow between two buildings. Her violet eyes tracked the man, narrowing as she considered whether he was friend or foe. Her shaking hand never left the stolen wand she held.
Precisely one hour later, the door to Room Three creaked open, and the cloaked witch stepped across the threshold. There, she found the well-dressed man, sitting at a table. There were three place settings, each with a lavish meal. He had already begun to eat, but the other two platters remained under warming charms.
"Come in, come in," he said genially. "I'm glad you came."
She waited until the door was closed behind her, before taking her hood down and revealing herself - and her wand - to the man.
"I'm not accustomed to being followed," the witch said, angrily. She did not let her eyes wander to the food in front of her, but the rumbling of her stomach betrayed her hunger.
The man chuckled. "No, I imagine not." He gestured at a seat. "Please, join me."
She did not move. "I'd like a name, before I decide whether to kill you or not." She smirked at him, playfully. "I get fed either way."
"Perhaps, and perhaps not." He did not seem troubled by the threat on his life. "Very well, Madam Lestrange, allow me to introduce myself. I am Mycroft Luther."
She stared at him. "Is that name supposed to mean something?"
He deflated a little. "Perhaps not. I am a solicitor, you see. My father and I have offices here in the village, and along Diagon Alley. Your sister's family is one of my father's clients, actually."
Bellatrix shrugged. "I've been out of town, you might say."
"Indeed, so you have." Luther tilted his head at her. "And it was remarkable, I must say, how you broke out of Azkaban just a day after being told that a solicitor was reviewing your case."
She thought back to that meeting, months ago, where an old man told her to tie a red scarf around the bars of her window. A day later, the wall had exploded, and she had been freed from Azkaban.
Her eyes widened as she made the connection.
"Yes," he said with a grin. "Now you're getting it."
"You freed me," she said, shocked. "Why?"
"My client suggested that you might be helpful in achieving one of his long term goals, so to speak." Luther nodded toward the door. "You and our other guest share a benefactor, Madam Lestrange. You seek little more than to serve your master, of course, while our other guest is desperate to find her husband." He sat back in his seat, watching her consider what she had learned. "I believe you can achieve great things together."
Bellatrix stepped to the side, so that she could cover the door and this Mister Luther with her wand. "And who is this unnamed ally you expect me to work with?"
Before he could answer, they heard a key in the lock. The door clicked open, and a witch walked in. She was shorter than even Bellatrix, and her skin was dark brown. To Bellatrix's eyes, she seemed almost Egyptian.
The woman's eyes widened as she saw Bellatrix, but she did not seem to panic. Carefully closing and locking the door behind her, she turned and gave Luther a glare.
The solicitor chuckled at her ire, before gesturing toward the witch.
"Bellatrix Lestrange, may I present Alexandria Quirrell."
Bellatrix lowered her wand slightly, before answering in the only way she could.
"Who?"
A/N: Even with only two escapees, life moves on for all five of our leads, as chapters like this one show.
The scene described by Sirius is one I've written from his perspective, mostly. It's a goddamn tear jerker. There's no need for a flashback, here, and this version of it was rough enough as it stood, so you're spared those feels. How much of Marigold's early devotion to the idea of her brother, and later to the idea that he was watching over her, came from her unconscious memory of the moment he passed? The sadness in Sirius' voice?
Excuse me for a minute. Need a tissue.
Suffice to say, things will continue to get interesting as we approach the holidays. Stay tuned.
The usual caveats apply, of course - I've abandoned nothing, etc etc. Trying to get more words down these days, but everything's crazy, you know? I'm keeping my stories moving, as best I can.
If you're in the US, are you registered to vote?
Feedback, as always, is welcome.
