CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

The excitement of Samhain had alleviated slightly the next morning; the moment that the fifth and seventh years saw the date '1st November', they realised how very little time now remained between them and their dreaded mock exams. As one can imagine, a metaphorical bomb of panic went off in every single on of the Houses. Indeed, on that Monday morning, Harry had been rather surprised to be woken, not by her dorm mates, but by several fifth years, led by War, banging on the dorm room door.

A disgruntled Ygraine had been the one to get out of bed and open the door, ready to shout at whoever it was who had rudely awoken them before their alarms. Just as Harry sat up, a stream of fifth year Slytherin girls came in, eagerly holding out their practise exam essays they had completed. Harry barely had enough time to wipe the sleep sand out of her eyes before she was met with a pile of papers. It wasn't just Harry either; Ophelia was also given completed essays, diagrams and practise exams.

"Morgana," was all Druella had the energy to comment, shaking her head at the fifteen-year-olds streaming in and out of their room.

"I suppose this is how the faculty must feel," Ophelia commented as the door to their dorm closed – finally – looking at the handed in homework.

"Well, it is certainly one way to wake up in the morning," Harry stated dryly, yawning and stretching. "Why couldn't they have come half an hour later? I don't know about you girls but I really did not sleep all too well last night."

"Me neither, but there's nothing new," Ygraine agreed, taking her stuff to the shower before Walburga could claim it.

"I slept just fine," Ophelia answered, stretching too.

"No issues here for once," Walburga added, sighing. "Surprisingly. Aunt Ella was giving me an earful yesterday. I wish I remembered your little jinx, Harry – the one you used on Peeves. It would have been a great help. She was going on and on and on about my propensity to slouch."

"What, Langlock?" Harry frowned, who had gotten out of bed and was fishing a blouse, tie, waist coat, trousers and blazer from her trunk.

"Langlock, Langlock," Walburga began chanting like a mantra, closing her eyes, determined to print the spell into her mind.

Druella shook her head at Walburga's antics and then grinned at Harry. "Meeting your friends yesterday was amazing. Ginny had a wonderful sense of humour; she was Quidditch obsessed though. Avery and Mulciber would have loved her!"

Harry grinned. "Yeah, that was Ginny through and through. One hell of a Chaser. She wanted a career in Quidditch and would have probably succeeded if not … for everything."

"Chaser? I would have pegged her for a Seeker type too," Druella smiled. "She spoke of how you were the Captain of their Quidditch team at one point."

Harry nodded meekly. "Yep."

"Not surprising, considering your natural leadership skills," Walburga joined the conversation. She smirked. "Is it true that at one point you had crushes on people who hated you?"

Harry's cheeks flushed. Of course Ginny told them about Marcus Flint and Miles bloody Bletchley! Ginny had been dying – in a manner of speaking – to tell someone about that who wasn't Hermione but was Harry's friend. "Yes," she was forced to admit.

Druella laughed triumphantly. "Oh my! It is true what they say about history repeating itself!"

Ophelia, Walburga and Druella giggled as Ygraine returned and Harry hurried as fast as she could into the bathroom. Fortunately the girls spared Harry the moment she got back out of the bathroom. The Mistress of Death put an Undetectable Extension Charm onto her school bag in order to fit in all of her books, quills, the fifth years' essays and the Art stuff given to her by Tom. She still could not quite believe that he had done that, nor the fact that he and the rest of his Knights seemed more than willing to converse with Luna and Neville. The expression on Neville's face when Heron struck up a conversation was still priceless! Luna meeting Loreley was also golden. Even Abraxas Malfoy couldn't keep a frown on his face, for Merlin's sake!

Harry could not wait to draw those memories onto paper.

The girls actually wasted no time in getting ready that morning. However, the moment that Harry and Ophelia stepped out of their dorm into the common room, they were ambushed by the fifth year boys, all of whom had completed exam essays as well. Both girls had almost regretted assigning this task but Harry reminded herself that it could pay off in the end.

"Prepare yourselves, girls, this was just the Slytherins," Arcturus reminded them with a grin. "You still have the Lions, Badgers and Eagles to contend with."

"I need coffee," was Harry's only answer.

"Here, here," Ophelia agreed dryly.

"How did you girls sleep?" Orion asked worriedly. "I woke up at around twelve and couldn't get back to sleep, neither could Malfoy. Altair was awake for a good half an hour too."

"I couldn't get back to sleep for an hour at around the same time and then had my usual nightmare-induced slumber," Harry responded candidly. "Something just … didn't feel right."

"What do you mean?" Altair asked with a frown.

"No idea. Just a funny feeling," she admitted with a shrug. "Stupid question, but just for the sake of clarity, because I haven't had coffee yet, which lessons do we have today in the Revision Club schedule?"

"Fifth year Charms, Muggle Studies and Potions, and seventh year Defence," Tom responded easily.

"When's Defence?" Harry frowned.

"The free period before lunch," Tom answered.

"OK," Harry nodded. "I think I will try and hunt down the mark scheme for the old exams today when I have my first free period. Thanks, Tom."

"No problem. I have also been requested to ask you on behalf of Edward Diggory: when do you want to teach the fifth and seventh years the Patronus Charm?" Tom informed her as they reached the Great Hall.

"Oh bugger," Harry sighed. She had actually forgotten she had agreed to give further Patronus lessons. "Look, I think I can handle teaching the seventh years the Patronus since they already have a leg up but I don't think I can teach the fifth years in time for the mocks. Tell Diggory I will start the fifth year lessons after the seventh year mocks. For the sake of my own sanity."

"Good idea," Altair agreed, the others nodding in affirmation as well.

Harry was happy to note that, other than the Weasleys, Artemis, Heron and the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team chatting loudly about their up and coming Quidditch match at the end of the week in addition to balancing studying, the Revision Club and their Quidditch practise, and Billy Prewett blabbing some more about the difference between magical and Muggle cameras, breakfast was a rather quiet affair.

"Ron really was fun to talk to last night," Orion informed her quietly, distracting her from Billy's babbling a bit. "He really knows his way around a chess board too! I couldn't win a single round from him."

Harry grinned. "Ron was our battle strategist," she admitted. "Not even Hermione could beat him in a game."

"He did say he wasn't always the best friend to you," Orion frowned. "Apparently he did get jealous of you a bit because of who you were."

"Yeah, he did," Harry confirmed with a deep sigh, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "It cut deep, not going to lie. But … Ron tried his best to change after all that. He risked life and limb for me – I could rely on him when I really needed him."

"I told him about what Tom and the others did," Orion confessed, poking his porridge. "He was angry, until he realised you were not completely alone in the matter. He actually thanked me for being there for you." Orion looked embarrassed at this.

Harry chuckled as she sipped her coffee. "Sounds like Ron all right. He is quite easy to win over if you know how."

"What are you two discussing so secretively?" Arcturus teased. "Got something special planned for the Quidditch match or something?"

"No, we're talking about Orion's conversation with Ron, actually," Harry smiled.

"Oh," Arcturus sobered in an instant. "He seems like a nice enough guy, but I am a little bit miffed he didn't seem to want to talk to us."

Harry smiled apologetically. "Ron can be a bit judgemental if he doesn't like the look of you. I am sorry about that."

"I got to meet Luna. I am already happy with that," Altair grinned. "And Neville really did know his plants. He told us about the Venomous Tentaculas he used in battle – the one you told me about – and how he had released them in a pincer like shape to make sure the enemy got herded towards each other. I mean, that's just pure genius!"

Harry beamed broadly.

"Hermione was a female Riddle; it was scary," Artemis shook her head as she finished a piece of toast. "I mean, how can someone talk that much in such a short period of time about Ancient Runes, then Arithmancy, then Harry's poor portion sizes? She made Orion look mellow!"

"Hey!" Orion protested while Harry laughed.

Suddenly, a paper bird in the shape of a raven flew towards the Gryffindor table and landed in front of Orion. Harry frowned at it but quickly busied herself with pouring herself another cup of coffee so as not appear too nosy as Orion unfurled the paper bird.

"Oh!" the Black Heir squealed as he continued reading. "My grandfather would like to meet with Heron, myself and you, Harry, in order to be brought up to speed about what Professor Babbling has been covering, what we have been covering and to make your acquaintance. He wants to meet the 'first self-study student' he has ever come across."

Harry paled. Sirius Black II wanted to meet her?! She had hoped that Orion had been joking about that when the man had informed his grandson he would be taking over for Babbling until she recovered. Apparently not.

"Oh boy," was all she could say to that. "Is it too early in the morning for Firewhiskey?"

A few of her friends snorted; the Weasley twins barked with laughter.

"Oh come on, Harry! You will be fine," Loreley reassured her with a grin. "For the old raven means no harm; he merely wishes to satisfy his own curiosity and hold out a branch to the young deer he has been hearing about."

"Loreley, really?" Druella rolled her eyes. "That was not as poetic as your previous statements."

The Sighted Ravenclaw hummed as she spread jam onto her toast, unaffected by the comment.

"Good to know that I am not about to get eviscerated for corrupting the Heir to his House," Harry stated dryly, reaching over to one of the fruit bowls for an apple and began to peel it.

She suddenly felt the Link open from Thanatos' side. Harry, we have a situation.

The Mistress of Death stopped peeling momentarily before continuing. What is it, Thanatos? Because if you remember, today is Monday and thus, this Mistress of Death is confined to the classroom today.

I am aware, but there is something you should know: last night, someone performed a Blood Rite on Samhain. At the Tower of London. Harry almost sliced into her finger at this, her fist clenching around the apple. Excuse me?! Thanks to the tomes in the archives, she knew just how dangerous and potent that was. And you are only telling me this NOW?!

Hypnos refused to allow his children to tell you, Thanatos informed her.

Did it succeed? Harry demanded to know, her eyes bleeding silver.

Unfortunately. Whoever the three numbskulls were, they summoned one of my best – the Tracker.

Harry's hands clenched further. Thanks to her research, she knew who he was. The Tracker of Souls, also known as Ankou by his True Name. A foolish prince whose arrogance and desire to become the Master of Death led him to accept a challenge set by Thanatos himself, only to fail inevitably. Thanatos had still recognised his skills and decided to put Ankou to good use. However, the Tracker was able to find anyone and anything, alive or dead. He could chase you into the very realms of Hades or Valhalla in an attempt to hunt you down.

There was only one person Harry could think of who would be desperate and stupid enough to summon the Tracker. Grindelwald.

It seems Grindelwald has resorted to other means of finding the Peverells, Harry responded silkily, scaring herself with how much she sounded like Tom. The Tracker is after the Flamels, isn't he?

Yes, Thanatos confirmed immediately. Hypnos has already removed them from Arcana House-Harry almost choked on her coffee. Back your Thestrals up there, Tosti! Are you telling me that those idiotic goblins hid the Flamels IN A PEVERELL RESIDENCE?!

Thanatos was eerily silent. Yes, yes it seemed that the goblins of Gringotts had been that stupid. Harry suddenly wished Altair and Tom had allowed Orion to send a curse or two to the goblins. Fools! Bloody fools!

Don't fret, they're gone now. Melinoë has also enlisted help from some old friends – the guardians and residents of the Tower of London – but we may need your help later…

Tosti, just keep me updated, Harry sighed. I survived Samhain and yet someone just managed to ruin everything on literally the last minute.

Sorry.

Hey, it's not your fault, silly god!

"Harry?" Altair's voice cut through, closing the Link between Thanatos and Harry in an instant. The Mistress of Death raised her head and smiled at him. "Are you OK? You look ready to punch something."

Harry laughed shortly. "It seems my funny feeling has yet to fail me," she responded cryptically.

Her verdant eyes met the golden ones of Loreley. The Sighted Ravenclaw gave her a short smile but gave her a nod in understanding; that was all the confirmation the Mistress of Death needed. The gods would somehow need her help with cleaning up this mess, but for now – it was business as usual.

"Harry, I may be mistaken but I think a Gringotts owl may be incoming," Tom informed her.

Her head shot up once more in an instant. Indeed, a tawney owl with a Gringotts medallion was heading straight for her, and unlike the previous owl, judged its landing speed perfectly, and stopped right in front of her elegantly, sticking out its leg.

Harry sighed, untied the letter, gave the owl some bacon and then broke the seal.

Dear Lady Peverell,

The time and place for the meeting between His Grace, the Unspeakables and the Aurors and yourself has been decided. It will take place on this coming Thursday at 11.30 precisely. You are requested to be there at least ten minutes early with Mr. Burke in order for Rollo to give you a quick debrief of the proceedings. Since this is not an entirely internal matter, the protocol is slightly different, as you may have already read for yourself.

Apologies once more for the mess we were forced to bring you into.

May your enemies fall at your feet,

Griphook

Harry sighed, nodded to herself, and then sent the letter up into flames.

"What did they say?" Druella dared to ask.

"I am to meet with King Ragnok and the clients this coming Thursday at 11.30 to explain myself," Harry replied coolly.

"I still do not see anything to explain," Tom commented. "You were given a dangerous artefact that no one had the stomach to deal with and then they have the temerity to be surprised you defended yourself against it."

"I mean, they should have thought about the outcome of giving a sentient object to a only-just-off-age witch, no matter who she is," Altair added, shaking his head.

"What can I say? It's typical of adults," Harry shrugged. "You do what they ask, and when they don't like the result, they throw a hissy fit."

"Sounds awfully familiar," Arcturus commented, shooting a not-so-subtle look towards Dumbledore's direction.

A few chuckles of agreement ran around the group, with only Artemis, Ignatius and a few other Gryffindors joining in.

Orion soon pulled Harry and Heron away from the group, though, for the meeting with his grandfather. He led the way up to the sixth floor, the staircases actually staying put long enough for all three to cross, and to a portrait of an unknown witch with a veil over her eyes hanging on one of the walls of the sixth floor corridor, sitting in a garden surrounded by ravens. Orion whistled a complex tune to the portrait and as soon as he did, the portrait swung inwards, revealing a dark, narrow corridor.

Harry could not help but gape a little. Heron grinned at this. "Hogwarts has a few spare rooms for guests, or in this case, substitute teachers. They do not get used often, though."

Harry could only nod as she followed Orion down the corridor. When she thought she finally knew Hogwarts inside and out, something just had to take her by surprise! The three of them eventually came into a giant sitting room with a fireplace, two grand sofas, and a dining table that could theoretically fit about seven people around it. Bookcases lined the walls, full of tomes. There were two other doors, leading to a bed chamber and a bathroom Harry guessed. She couldn't imagine a Black, whether they were faculty or not, spending too much time outside his rooms around potentially half-blood or Muggleborn teachers and students unless they had to. Or perhaps a bathroom was just standard with these rooms?

Orion's grandfather was sitting on one of the sofas, reading through some of his students' schoolwork. The first thing Harry noticed about Sirius Black II was that he had a presence that was marked and intimidating, even from a sedentary position and busied with something else. The man had a natural gravitas that not even Lucius Malfoy could match; the former Lord Black had a natural air of confidence that one could not train. He was at ease at present but even then, the Lady Regnant knew that this was not a man to be crossed lightly. Orion's grandfather finally raised his stern, intense, piercing eyes to the three young people who had entered his domain, like a king greeting his courtiers. Harry tried not to gulp when he did so. His face was tout and serious, ironically enough; his facial symmetry made him look almost permanently annoyed. Harry had no idea how old the man was, but she wagered he somehow looked no older than fifty.

"Orion," Sirius Black II greeted in a manner that could be described as warm, but Harry noted that there was a coolness, a distance to the man's tone. "Thank you for responding so promptly to my message."

"Not at all, Grandfather," Orion smiled brightly and then gestured towards Harry. "May I have the pleasure of formally introducing you to our friend; the Lady Hera Evans, but she prefers to be addressed as Harry."

"Indeed?" Up went a well-groomed eyebrow in surprise and those assessing eyes turned to focus directly onto the Traveller. "How peculiar. A lady who prefers to be addressed as a man, and dresses as one too."

Harry flushed slightly in embarrassment. "There is a reason for my preference of name, sir," she responded crisply, attempting to keep her tone as civil as she could manage, despite the fact she bristled at the fact yet again her preference of dress was being highlighted. It really was getting old by now.

"Of that I have no doubt," Sirius Black II responded easily, setting aside his work and gestured for the three of them to sit down on the sofa opposite him. The three Slytherins complied. "I have heard a lot about you from reports from my daughter-in-law Melania, as well as Orion's letters, Miss Harry. I must confess that both my wife and I almost had heart attacks from hearing that the both of you, and Heiress Malfoy, were involved in freeing those two men in St. Mungo's from the cursed portrait the papers wrote about. What fascinates me above all is that you are a Cursebreaker, a jolly good one at that from reports, and one who wishes to go into business with my grandson."

Harry fumbled with her hands. "Yes, sir."

Sirius Black II smiled slightly; she had no idea if it was because he noticed her anxiety or if it was something else. "Well, I think it is a good idea, personally. My son Arcturus is still in good health and Orion will need to occupy his time properly before he ever takes over as Lord Black. Some real experiences will do him some good. As you probably have noticed, Orion has inherited my passion for Ancient Runes, which is why I called this small meeting in the first place. So, what has Babbling been covering and what has your new Revision Club, as Aneurin Griffith called it, been covering?"

Harry watched with interested and awe Orion and Heron enthusiastically inform him of the covered curriculum, what still needed to be covered and even about the struggles that their fifth and seventh year students had been having. She was a little bit surprised to note that Orion's grandfather was taking notes and taking all the information in rather seriously, even asking his grandson and the Lestrange Heir for solutions to deal with the struggles of the students. Harry had no idea what she had been expecting from the former Lord Black, but a substitute teacher who had no issues with taking advice from his own grandson and his friend was not it.

Unfortunately for her, Sirius Black managed to get the topic back onto Harry quite easily. "I see from dear Babbling's records and meticulous tracking of grades that you have opted for a self-study path, rather than attending class, Miss Harry," he lifted his eyes from his papers to her. "Is there a reason for that?"

"Erm … mostly to do with personal preference, as well as my health condition," Harry informed.

"Ah, yes. I think Orion mentioned something about your poor health," Sirius Black frowned. "Fainting Sickness, I believe it was."

"Yes, sir," the Traveller nodded.

"Stress worsens it, I take it?" Harry suddenly felt like she was facing a doctor instead of a teacher.

"Yes. Other things can worsen it too, like curses, hexes, jinxes," Harry listed, Orion and Heron's faces darkening slightly. Clearly they had not entirely forgiven Arcturus Rosier for that stunt. "They can cause more discomfort than normal."

"Well, that is good to bear in mind," Orion's grandfather noted something down. "I also see from your grades that apparently the self-study has been working for you. You recently even got an O for one of your pieces. Well done! This is not an easy subject to get right."

"Well, Orion and Heron are good teachers," Harry responded modestly, nodding towards her friends.

"Oh, please! You put the work in; we just put you to the test," Heron scoffed, chuckling slightly.

"You see what I mean, Grandfather? Utterly incapable of taking a compliment," Orion huffed, shaking his head.

Sirius Black II cracked a rare, full smile. It made him look a whole lot less intimidating! "Being humble is a virtue, Orion. You should not fault your friend for it." He regarded the strange Lady Regnant before him. "I hear you are a rather skilled musician."

"I can sing reasonably well and I am good with the violin," Harry answered, fumbling a bit with her hands again.

"Glass Harp too," Heron added, shaking his head at the fact Harry was underselling herself. "And you write your own songs."

"Yes, when the fancy strikes, which is rare these days," Harry parried in an instant.

"You would perhaps get on well with, not only my granddaughter Lucretia, but my daughter Lycoris too," Sirius Black II stated with a mischievous grin that showed the clear family resemblance between Orion and himself. It was almost the exact same smile! "Lucretia loves the piano; she is a bit of an overachiever when it comes to learning new pieces, and Lycoris is a composer."

Harry was taken aback. Was this a joke? "Are you serious?" the question had fallen out of her mouth before she even could consider the possible impropriety and social faux-pas she was committing.

Much to her own relief and surprise, the former Lord Black chuckled. "Indeed, my name is Sirius," he confirmed jovially; Orion giggled. Heron breathed a sigh of relief. Harry only then realised she had made the old joke she and Remus had used on her godfather. "But I am not jesting, my Lady."

He got up and approached a nearby cupboard that had some photographs on it. The former Lord Black picked something up and brought it back, handing it to Harry, who frowned slightly. It was a pamphlet for a concert at a theatre called The Mosai. The headline act was a young woman in her thirties, perhaps, with long wavy black hair and the same piercing grey orbs as Sirius Black's, sitting behind a grand piano. LYCORIS BLACK – only from 10 December to 23 December 1944.

How had Padfoot not told her about this? This was amazing!

"Wow," Harry couldn't help but smile. "You must be very proud of her, sir."

"Oh I am. But she does give my wife a bit of grief though. Lycoris refuses to marry unless her husband promises to not try and curtail her freedoms," Orion's grandfather informed fondly. "I back her stance whole-heartedly but for my poor Hesper it is a source of great disappointment that her only daughter is not yet married while being in her forties."

Harry blanched. Lycoris Black was in her forties?! She looked way younger than that. What kind of genes ran in the Black family?

"That sounds familiar," Orion chuckled, earning himself a slight nudge from Harry.

"Orion," Heron stated warningly.

The former Lord Black gave his grandson a pointed look, which caused Orion to still in a moment. Harry shook her head; barely anyone knew how to curtail Orion's blabber mouth but it seemed Sirius Black did!

Harry then gathered up some of her courage. "Aside from the current Lord Black and Lycoris, do you have any other children, sir?"

The former Unspeakable smiled. "Indeed, I do. One other son: Regulus. He works as a Senior Reversal Wizard in the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad."

The young Lady Regnant gaped. She knew who they were; they were the people who had been dispatched to turn Aunt Marge back to normal and to modify her memory after Harry had in her fury blown her up like a balloon when she was thirteen. To know what Padfoot's great-uncle also worked for them …

Perhaps not all Blacks were affected by pureblood mania?

Sirius Black II cleared his throat. "I am sure you are curious as to why I asked to see you as well, Miss Harry. The reason I wished to make your better acquaintance was to ask formally if you would consider attending my granddaughter Lucretia's Presentation to the Prewett Heir on the 20th of this coming December?"

Harry would have choked on her drink had she been drinking. The Presentation of two Heirs was between the families in question in order to solidify their commitment to the alliance. In attendance of the event were the most important members of those families, their closest allies and some important witnesses with political clout. To be invited personally by a member of the families in question was essentially a formal offering of an alliance. It was not something that was turned down lightly; to turn it down was a snub to the family. There was no way Harry was going to be able to refuse without insulting not only one of the most powerful-in-presence men she had ever met, but her one of her best friends as well.

Speaking of Orion, both he and Heron waited her answer with bated breath.

"I would love to, sir, just as long as I am welcome to the present Lord and Lady Black," she answered carefully.

"Oh, Harry!" Orion groaned, hanging his head.

"I assure you, my Lady, that it was my son and daughter-in-law who requested I invite you personally," Sirius Black II responded, a knowing glint in his eyes. It was almost as though he had expected Harry to give such a political answer. "You are affiliated to Orion, Walburga and Druella Rosier, who will very soon be joining our family. To not honour your friendship would be rude. Moreover, I know Hesper is very jealous I get to meet you already and the Presentation is the perfect opportunity for you two to become acquainted."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that but she soon composed herself. "Then, I would be honoured to attend your granddaughter's Presentation, sir."

Sirius Black II beamed, clearly happy at this victory. "Excellent. I shall write to Melania as soon as I am able, and give her some peace of mind."

"Forgive me, sir, but was she worried I would refuse?" Harry frowned.

"Oh, indeed, she was. Considering how new you are to our customs, she was concerned you would feel like you were trespassing without realising the true implications of our invitation," Harry was very taken aback at how candid Orion's grandfather was. "But it seems the training the girls have put you through, as Orion told me, have paid off very well. Now, I think I have been taking up too much of your time already, so let me write you three a late pass. But before you leave, my Lady, may I ask a possibly impertinent question?"

Harry frowned. "Fire away, sir."

"Why do you prefer to call yourself by a man's name?"

Harry smiled for a moment. Aragog had been the first to ask her that in a whole while but for some reason, she felt like she owed Sirius Black II an answer. "My Muggle family – my mother's sister and her husband and son – didn't like magic, so they didn't like Papa and Mama, and they didn't like me. When I was forced to stay with them, they would never say my name; they called me 'girl' and 'freak', and on the occasion they were forced to say my name, they said it with such bitterness and venom that it was like hearing them curse my very existence." Harry swallowed a little. "I hated my name because of it; every time someone called me 'Hera' it was like they were saying 'I don't like the fact you exist'. I didn't have many friends before I was eleven due to my cousin scaring most of the kids away so I hid a lot in the music rooms of my school. The music teacher took pity on me and she started giving me unofficial singing and violin lessons." Harry smiled further. "One of her favourite songs was Our Last Summer by a Swedish band she liked. There was this line in the song that really spoke to me: # And now you're working in a bank, a family man, a football fan, and your name is Harry. How dull it seems, yet you're the hero of my dreams #. Don't ask me why it spoke to me, but it did. From then on, I insisted on being called Harry."

Orion and Heron were in stunned silence. Sirius Black II nodded. "Thank you for telling me. I realise that it was perhaps a bit too personal."

"I haven't told someone in a long while," Harry admitted. "Mostly because they didn't ask."

Sirius Black II smiled at her gently. "I look forward to seeing your next piece of work, my Lady. Orion, Mr. Lestrange, I expect your usual high standards."

"Yes, sir!" the three chorused before leaving.

When they hurried to get to their first lesson of the day, Orion looped his arm with Harry's. "Thank you for accepting the invitation. I have to admit I feared you would reject it."

"I am not wholly uneducated anymore," Harry teased with a smile, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze.

Orion smiled sadly. "I am … sorry I never asked why you hated your name so much. I just thought there was a good reason and decided to leave it at that."

"Pfffft, don't worry about it. The last person to ask the reason behind it was Luna two years ago," Harry reassured. "I don't mind people not asking, you know."

"Your Muggle family should never have driven you to hating your own name," Heron scoffed. "Absolute mongrels."

The Lady Regnant took his left arm and squeezed it reassuringly. "It hurts, but what's done is done. They are gone, and I think that's really for the best – for everyone involved. Besides, I never asked – what did you boys get as your Samhain predictions yesterday?"

Both Orion and Heron blanched.

"Errrrrr … pass?" Orion asked meekly.

Heron took a more, suitably Slytherin route. "How about we make a deal," he grinned. "We tell you ours, but you tell us the results of your Strings of Fate."

The Lady Regnant scowled at him. "You bloody scoundrel."

"Thank you," Heron preened. "So is that a yes, or a no?"

Harry almost grumbled in Parseltongue but she bit the inside of her cheek to make sure she didn't give into temptation. "Fine, but if I find out you two have told another living soul, I will make it my mission to embarrass you during your courting with Artemis, Heron, and your wedding to Walburga, Orion!"

Orion gulped. Heron paled. "I am not courting Artemis – yet," the Lestrange Heir mumbled.

"Yes, and it is actually getting painful watching you two pining after each other," Orion rolled his eyes, recovering from his fear quite quickly. "It is almost as bad as Altair's pining after Harry and vice versa."

Heron looked like he wanted to add something but refrained himself from doing so and cleared his throat as they stepped onto the moving staircases. "Anyway, my prediction was I would fall for the Huntress, rescue her mirror image and apparently I may get at least three children," he flushed bright red at this.

Harry smiled to herself. Rodolphus and Rabastan; hopefully they would be of a better character with Artemis as their mother!

"Mine predicted chaos – in both my life and heart," Orion replied. "The only thing that was constant was my link to the people in my life. Oh, and according to Arcturus Rosier's translation I may also be father of four children in the future."

Harry blinked. Didn't Walburga's necklace have four hearts? She knew at least two were likely to be Sirius and Regulus. So, who were the other two?

"So, what did the Moirai tell you?" Heron asked eagerly, giving Harry a slight nudge to knock her out of her train of thought.

"Erm …" Harry was beetroot in the face.

"We did promise we won't tell," Orion reminded her with his version of the Pout of Doom.

Harry deflated slightly. "Well, I got two rings. Courting rings – for men."

Heron caught on in an instant. "Merlin – Sacrum Vinculum! Why am I not surprised? Of course Lady Magick would pull this trick with you, and them for that matter. Yeah, I am almost regretting asking now; this is not something that is thrown around. It is called the Sacred Bond, for a reason!"

Harry smiled slightly. "Nothing is ever normal around me."

"Our lips are sealed," Orion and Heron promised in unison.

##################################

The Gods of Death and Sleep were currently guarding the Immortal Alchemist and his wife at a warded house in Wiltshire, at an old safe house used by Aurors but one that had not been used in years. They had managed to hide in the Highlands for a good two hours before the Tracker found them and the group escaped down south into England again. Nicholas was busy pacing nervously while Hypnos was attempting to make a cup of tea. Thanatos was on guard duty, being able to sense the moment Ankou came precariously close to their location.

"Do you sense him?" Perenelle Flamel asked quietly from her chair. She had been praying; the Sorceress absolutely hated being idle.

"We have lost him for now, but we cannot keep this up forever," Thanatos responded grimly. "The Tracker will chase you to the ends of this world, the Otherworld and every Underworld if he needs to."

"I know that," she reassured. The Sorceress sighed. "You know, I should have expected something like this to happen sooner or later. I sometimes wondered in the centuries that I have lived, whether this semi immortality was all worth it. That we should have listened better to Richard Peverell when he said that we may end up getting more than we bargained for. We saw cultures, monarchies, countries rise and fall, friends live and die, keeping an eye on their descendants but because of that, we are putting a seventeen-year-old child in danger because of who we are and what we know about her family."

"Your Sight and powers are great, Perrie, but not even you can foresee everything," Thanatos pointed out with a small smile, still looking out of the window. "The Moirai will never allow it."

"No, but I could have used my head," Perenelle responded coolly. "Kings, queens, Sultans, Tsars, emperors – they have been hunting us for centuries. Wanting our power and knowledge for themselves; we should be wiser by now. We got complacent. This child, Grindelwald, fancies himself Master of Death and thinks we can hand him the keys to the kingdom, when he – like so many before him – has no idea what he is up against. Or what it means to be the Master of Death. Like all the others."

"Indeed," Thanatos could only quietly agree.

"She's different, the Lady Hera," the Sorceress smiled kindly. "She is powerful – indeed, she barely knows the extent of it, I wager – and yet she is still humble and modest. She seems to like being in the shadows, rather than the spotlight. You can just see that she's the descendant of Ignotus' line, if you know what to look for."

Thanatos smiled fondly. "Harry is the first Mistress of Death who I can safely call my friend."

"Ah, my dear Tosti, surely you are not going to lie to an old friend, are you? She is more than just a friend to you," Perenelle teased. "Indeed, I would be impertinent enough to say that she may as well be your daughter, or like a daughter to you."

The God of Death stayed silent for a moment or two. Perenelle almost feared she had indeed gone a step too far.

"I am not going to deny it. I always wished I was permitted to have children with Lanais," Thanatos admitted eventually. "If I did, I would hope at least one would be like Harry. But you are right; I do see her as my child, in a way."

"Come now, no one, god or mortal, can be like Harry Evans-Peverell," Perenelle stated firmly.

Thanatos nodded in agreement. He then looked at one of the few people who managed to evade his grasp without incurring his wrath. "I don't think I ever asked. Are you disappointed you never had a child of your own?"

The Sorceress smiled sadly. "Once or twice I imagined what it would be like, but the life Nicholas and I chose – a child would not have been conducive to that. It would not have been fair on him or her. We would have likely tried to share our immortality with them to simply spare our own feelings; it would have led to nothing but more unnecessary misery. Furthermore, our child could easily have become a target for anyone who wished to blackmail Nicholas and myself. Besides," she grinned, "we helped to raise several generations of Peverell. That was more than sufficient for us, considering how boisterous and troublesome some of them were."

Thanatos was about to reply when he felt his eyes glow bright silver. Ankou was less than five and a half miles from their location.

"We need to move again," he informed the people in the house.

"Oh, bloody hell. I just got a decent cuppa too," Hypnos muttered, ditching the tea mug on the side of the sink.

#############################

Tom spent most of his free periods in the Room of Requirement, making sure that his lesson for his fellow seventh years was prepared. Admittedly he had taken inspiration from Harry's practical approach to teaching and hoped that, with the Room's help, that everything would go well. It also gave the conflicted young man a good excuse to avoid his Knights as well as have a moment to compartmentalise some more inappropriate thoughts he had been having about the Lady Regnant of House Peverell and, to his own shock and horror, about the Nott heir. Samhain had made the thoughts only worse, especially the ones about Harry's dress. Tom had frankly never seen someone look that powerful in a dress before and together with Evren's violin, there was now no doubt in his mind Harry was a true Peverell. Plus, Tom had one dream last night that not only had made him lie awake for a good hour, but it was one he knew he wanted to hide behind Occlumency shields as soon as he was able.

With everything prepared, the Dark wizard was pacing at the front of his classroom twenty minutes before his lesson was supposed to start, having an internal conflict of epic proportions.

How can this be? Tom argued with himself. I was conceived under a love potion … I shouldn't be feeling like this …

Well, clearly they were wrong, his sane voice sneered back. You should know better than anyone that some knowledge is still rather flawed in the wizarding world. Research isn't really done on children conceived under them – thus assumptions are made.

But why now? Tom fired back. Why did I never feel anything for anyone until … now?

Because no one interested you, silly boy, the sane voice responded, sounding rather condescending.

It seemed that the Three Weavers were set on tormenting him, as well.

"Hey, Tom! You ready?"

Tom steeled his nerves and took a fortifying breath as he turned around and greeted Harry, Nott, Orion, Rosier, Artemis and Heron with the most confident smile he could muster.

"You're early," he noted, forcing himself to keep a neutral tone as he met the shining verdant gaze of the Lady Regnant. "I do not know whether that is a good thing or a bad thing."

Artemis rolled her eyes. "Oh, please! The fifth years could not stop harping about their lesson, so now everyone is eager to see how Professor Riddle handles his fellow seventh years. You should know this yourself."

"Well, it was you who suggested I needed to be more modest," Tom pointed out with a slight smirk.

"Ha! Tom and modesty; that marriage will end in divorce," Artemis scoffed.

Tom flushed a little at this.

"Artemis," Harry stated warningly, giving her doppelgänger a pointed look.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll behave myself," Artemis rolled her eyes.

"So, are we going to get a clue as to what we are going to do today, or do we just have to wait and see?" Nott asked with a grin, his eyes shining with mischief. Tom twirled his wand in his hands to make sure he could focus on something else.

"We will focus on facing a few Dark creatures and duelling," Tom answered in his best teacher's voice. "Our mock exams and our real exams will focus mainly on facing dangerous opponents of both the human and non-human kind, so that is what we will be focusing on."

"Obstacle courses?" Harry gauged.

"Of a kind," Tom responded with a small smile. "But further than that I will not say or I will ruin the surprise."

"Spoil sport," Orion pouted.

"Oh, I never asked. How did your meeting with your grandfather go?" Rosier asked Orion as the group put their robes and bags in a corner of the classroom.

"Better than I could have hoped for!" Orion sang, clapping his hands excitedly. Heron was grinning at his antics while Harry pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head in quiet amusement. "I knew Grandfather would get on well with Harry but it is good to have it confirmed."

"I don't see why you are saying that. I was a nervous wreck through out," Harry contradicted.

"Which still surprises me. You can stand up to a Dark Lord and yet you sit in front of one former Lord and you turn to jelly," Heron laughed.

"Heron, my friend, I don't think you've noticed, but Sirius Black II is honestly one of the most naturally intimidating people I have ever met in my life," Harry stated firmly. "All he needed to do was sit there and look at you, and I feel like he is reading my soul and my every move."

"Oh, he was," Orion confirmed jovially. "Please do not fault him for it, though. It is down to his Unspeakable past and the fact he was once Lord Black. He cannot help it, but I assure you, if he found fault with you, you would have known about it. After all, Grandfather doesn't just invite anyone to Lucretia's Presentation-"

"WHAT?!" Nott, Rosier and Artemis chorused, blanching in seconds. Tom raised his head in shock, eyes wide.

"You were invited to Lucretia Black's Presentation to Ignatius Prewett?" Rosier could hardly believe his ears. "Personally, by a former Lord Black?"

"Harry, please tell me – and I am serious about this – please tell me that you accepted," Nott looked and sounded more serious than Tom had ever seen or heard him. It was disconcerting.

Harry blinked slightly in shock. "Errr… yes, I accepted."

Everyone exhaled in relief, including Tom. Harry rolled her eyes. "Come on, guys. I did get a crash course in pureblood customs, remember? I am not totally inept, you know."

"We are not saying you're inept, we're saying your dangerously polite," Nott responded with a cheeky smirk.

"Well, you should be fine. You will have Orion, Walburga and Druella to converse to if all else fails, and the Weasleys will be attending on the Prewett side," Artemis informed her. "The Weasleys have been close friends of that family for years so Septimus and Octavius will hopefully ensure that stuffy family lightens up a bit."

"Stuffy?!" Orion looked affronted. "We are not stuffy!"

"No, indeed. Special is a better word," Harry teased.

"Special?!" Orion spluttered while the others laughed in agreement.

Fortunately, the rest of the seventh years soon arrived, much to Tom's own relief. The Room provided the students with chairs. "Welcome everyone. Today we will be focusing on combating Dark creatures and duelling. Thanks to Harry finding old exams of the past, and looking at the exams from last year, I have seen that our practical exams will be the deciding factor in determining our grades. So, theory will only be your homework; in class, we will be mostly up on our feet."

Orion put up his hand enthusiastically. Tom tried not to smile at that. "Yes, Mr. Black?"

"How will we be combating Dark creatures?" Orion asked eagerly.

Tom allowed himself to smirk mischievously. "The Room has been very kind in turning the Care of Magical Creatures greenhouse into different kind of arenas with creatures that will appear randomly. As in the outside world, you will need to be able to think on your feet and adapt to situations. So, each of you will go into the greenhouse until it turns back to normal, and then the next person can get a turn. Don't fret; the rest of us will be keeping an eye on you to make sure nothing goes too horribly wrong."

"So, who will go first, professor?" Loreley sang.

"Well, I thought for simplicity's sake, we would go alphabetically," Tom responded easily. He turned to a rather pale-faced Avery. "Which means Malum, my friend, you will go first."

"Yes, sir," Malum got to his feet, looking extremely anxious.

Malum Avery made his way downstairs and then into the greenhouse. Tom watched as the Room conjured up a silver screen and all eyes watched Malum walk into this marshy area with tall grasses, reeds and rushes. He saw a good number of dead wood lying around the marsh as well as several other small animals. Malum waded further into the marsh, keeping his eyes peeled for anything. So far, nothing was leaping out of the depths below to try and tear his throat out.

Suddenly, Harry gasped and put her hand over her mouth. "Oh no. Avery, watch out! You're in their territory!"

Unfortunately, Malum could not hear her and everyone watched as the dead wood suddenly began to move, revealing toad-like creatures with finned paws and sharp teeth. Several of these creatures had mushrooms growing out of the back of them and were soon ribbiting angrily, their cat-like eyes focused on Malum and sinking their teeth into his ankles.

"What the hell …?" one of the Hufflepuffs wondered out loud.

"Dugbogs!" Harry exclaimed. "They don't like humans in their territory so they will attack our ankles to scare us off. They're pests for Herbologists because they have an insatiable appetite for Mandrakes."

Malum drew his wand and Stunned the creatures while he made his escape to the left of the marsh and as far away from the pack as he could manage. Unfortunately, the Room decided to give him another surprise. He heard the hissing and the sound of pincers behind him; Malum dived to the right just as a giant stinger headed straight for where he had been only seconds before. He whirled around to see that there were three giant scorpions snapping their pincers at him menacingly.

"Great, Serkets," Harry grumbled. "I think the Room is trying to kill us."

Tom stifled a laugh.

Malum used a powerful, nonverbal Incendio Duo to deal with the giant scorpions before the Serkets could get any more ideas. He looked around the marsh for anything that could leap out to try to kill him or attack him further but the greenhouse soon returned to its normal state of lush green fields with hippogriffs sleeping, Bowtruckles in nearby trees and fairy creatures flitting from flower to flower.

"Well, that was interesting," he commented to himself as he trudged back to the entrance of the greenhouse and then back up to the Defence classroom.

His classmates did applaud his effort, much to his own delight. Even Tom seemed pleased with his performance, which made Malum sigh with relief.

Both Blacks, Bletchley, Brown, Caplan, Carmichael, Davies, Diggory, Dolohov and Doyle all put up more than passable performances, in Tom's mind. Caplan and Diggory, the two Hufflepuffs, especially took Tom by surprise at how vicious and merciless they faced their dangerous creatures.

Soon, it was Harry Evans who got to her feet with a sigh, looking like she was praying to whatever god or entity who would listen for something. Tom also quietly hoped that the Room would go easy on her. Somehow, he highly doubted that.

#################################

Harry knew that with her luck the Room would pose a great challenge to her, maybe even more so than Caplan, Diggory and Dolohov. She braced herself for what she could face and then stepped through the greenhouse. As soon as she did, Harry was hit with a flashback to the Horcrux Cave.

She stood in an eerie, great black lake so vast that Harry could only just see to the other side of it, in a cavern that was perhaps higher than the lake where she and Dumbledore almost joined Regulus Black in the afterlife. There was a misty greenish light that danced on top of the lake, reflecting in the still waters. The darkness surrounding her was fortunately not as dense as the Horcrux Cave, mainly thanks to the glowing orb of light that signalled her friends were keeping an eye on everything.

Harry's Mistress of Death senses started tingling as she approached the edge of the lake and she internally cursed. "Leoht," she whispered, a ball of glowing silver light appearing in her hand. The light from the orb shone directly onto the gaunt face of a woman, dead, laying face up beneath the surface, her open eyes misted as though with cobwebs. The light revealed that there were also at least three others under the surface.

Harry's jaw clenched. She knew exactly what they were: Inferi.

Bugger.

Then, her Mistress of Death senses told her there were also multiple lifeforms in the cave. She frowned to herself, looked up and lifted the orb up towards the ceiling of the cave. There, hanging from whatever perch they could latch onto, were at least one hundred bright green bats.

Double bugger.

They were Mortis Bats, also known as "the Bats of Death". If they were woken during the daytime, they were right nasty little buggers to deal with. Plus, they were venomous, because apparently Nature had decided they already didn't show enough contempt for other living creatures.

Unfortunately, they also had a friend with them – an Acromantula the size of a Mini Cooper. Triple bugger. The only good thing was, they were all asleep.

Well, at least Harry could see what she was fighting.

However, she forgot she had let go of her orb. It was at this point, the ball of light had gone just a little bit too high. The beady yellow eyes of five Mortis Bats shot open and they screeched in fury, instantly waking up the rest of the ninety-odd bats and the damn Acromantula.

Harry, you useless gnat, the Lady Regnant scolded herself as the Mortis Bats took to the air, a cacophony of irate screeching resonating around the cave. They headed straight for her, their knife-like teeth bared.

Fortunately, she had sat next to Ophelia and Artemis enough times while they were studying Care to know how to deal with these critters. Harry sent non-verbal Knockback Jinxes, Red Sparks and several Verdimillious Charms into the group of furious bats. The blinding flashes of emerald light and the bright red lights made more than half of them shriek in agony, many flying in all directions to try and escape the lights; a good number actually ended up flying into the walls of the cave and knocking themselves out. The loud bang from the Knockback Jinx sent several more of the bats skirting about in all directions, screeching in alarm. Those who were hit with it were slammed into the water of the lake and ended up thrashing about in pure panic.

Harry wanted to help them but soon was forced to turn her attention back onto the remaining Mortis Bats and the Acromantula. Her eyes glowed a bright silver and she swished her hand in a downward slash, a blue light shooting forth into the darkness of the cave, and seconds later, the wandless, non-verbal Flipendo Tria conjured a small tornado that picked up the rest of the bats and the giant spider. The wailing and irate hissing from the creatures could be heard as they were tossed about from one side of the cave to the other. The Mortis Bats, once they could, escaped back high up into the cave, sufficiently cowed.

The Acromantula did try again, hissing angrily and snapping its pincers, heading straight for her. Unfortunately for the hangry spider, the witch in front of him was more than prepared. It got hit with a powerful, nonverbal Arania Exumai and an illusion of a giant Basilisk soon put an end to it trying to attack Harry, following its batty friends up into the caverns above again.

Harry sighed with relief, until she felt something grab her tightly from behind, snarling and hissing noises filling her ears. Shit, the Inferi were awake! In an instant, the Mistress of Death struggled against the strength of the awakened corpse, which was dragging her towards the lake where other Inferi too were beginning to move.

No, no, no, no, no, Harry chanted as she was dragged closer and closer towards certain doom.

Wait, she knew exactly what the Inferi's weakness was: fire. Thanks to Dumbledore, she knew just the spell to use.

Just as she was about to hit the water, with multiple hands and arms reaching towards her, the Mistress of Death tapped into as much of her magic as she could as her eyes glowed brighter than they had before. As Harry fell back, she let out a scream and unleashed her magic. Through the darkness and somehow spreading through the water, fire erupted from her hands, silver, purple, crimson and gold mixing together, a ring of fire orbiting Harry and causing any of the living dead who touched it to be turned into nothing but dust. She soon found herself able to swim to the side of the cave, fire dancing in her eyes and the lasso of flames whipping out at any foolhardy Inferi who tried to get too close.

And just as quickly as the cave appeared, Harry found herself standing in the Room's greenhouse meadow in a blink of an eye. The Mistress of Death blinked in shock and looked about her just to make sure that she was truly safe before taking a relieved breath and headed back to the entrance of the greenhouse.

As soon as she stepped out back into the miniature school, she heard Dolohov complain from above, "why does Evans always get the cool shit?"

"Shut up, Dolohov. The Room would have likely had to save your behind," she heard Artemis retort.

Harry scoffed as she made her way back up to the Defence class, feeling rather knackered. Tom, who had looked unnaturally pale and worried, gave her a small, rare smile as she sat down. "Well done, Miss Evans. Masterfully done."

Harry smiled. "Thank you, Professor Riddle," she answered with a slight grin.

"That was just nightmare fuel right there," Altair informed her, looking slightly green. "How did you know how to deal with those Inferi so quickly?"

"Erm, Altair? We had a lesson on them not too long ago," Arcturus reminded him as the next sucker went down to the greenhouses to face their monsters.

"Plus, this is not my first Inferi rodeo," Harry added.

"You mean, you dealt with them before?!" Heron could hardly believe his ears.

"Yeah, but I have to admit I was rather useless then," the Lady Regnant confessed sheepishly. "I would have likely drowned had it not been for our branch's leader saving my bacon."

"Why can't anything in your life just be normal?" Minerva wondered, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Been asking myself that same exact question for years," Harry sighed.

The Lady Regnant was extremely content to watch her fellow seventh years also face down some very vicious creatures that they had covered – she had to admit that watching Mulciber having to face down Grindylows and Septimus and Octavius deal with a nest of Dark Snakes was rather entertaining because for once it wasn't her who had to face them. Plus, Septimus spent most of his time up trees and out of reach from the snakes, trying to coach Octavius where to fire next from his vantage point.

Duelling was definitely the high-light of the lesson. For some odd reason, Tom had opted to pair everyone up and hold Double Battles instead of single ones. "Out there in the real world you will need to be able to coordinate attacks and strategy with your allies. This will be good practise," he had explained simply when Ophelia had asked him why he had chosen to do this.

Harry was surprised but delighted to be paired with Altair, who clearly was not expecting that. They faced Artemis and Heron; for some reason, this had made Harry rather giddy with excitement. Artemis and Heron, though, looked on one hand concerned but on the other hand, were determined not to be shown up.

The Lady Regnant could honestly say she enjoyed herself. While Altair took the offensive route, with help of his golden jackal Patronus, Harry covered their defences and keeping an eye on Artemis and Heron's moves. Heron used his skills in Illusion Magic to try and make Harry's task a bit more difficult while Artemis tried to match and parry Altair's attacks. The Cursebreaker was not above using some of her more questionably aligned enchantments from her family books and books on Dark magic to boggle the pair now and again or put them in a trance long enough for Altair to secure a few direct hits.

The duel ended when Harry had frozen Artemis and Heron with the same spell she had used on Oizys Avery and Altair had promptly disarmed them, much to the chagrin of the pair. Tom's Cheshire cat grin was definitely worth putting up with a sulky Artemis and Heron for the rest of the day, Harry decided.

"Tom certainly has decided to make a few unorthodox pairings," Altair commented to Harry as they watched Arcturus and Orion face off against Minerva and Druella.

"Yes," she agreed with a smile. "I think it's interesting. I mean, most Aurors do not get to choose their partners, so they are often forced to make a strategy that works for them. It's clever what Tom's doing."

"He is changing," Altair added, watching Tom study the four duellers closely. "He is less … judgemental and … less of a control freak."

Harry hummed in agreement. "It seems so."

"He also hasn't been actively ignoring me, for some reason," Altair continued in a disbelieving whisper. "I wonder what changed…"

"I say, let's not look a gift horse in the mouth," Harry grinned to which Altair laughed in agreement.

Lunch, the afternoon periods and dinner passed much quickly than Harry anticipated, mainly due to balancing homework, studying, dissertation and marking her History students' exam essays. She had admittedly left dinner rather early to make sure she could get through all the papers in one evening. The Lady Regnant groaned a few times when she noted that there were those who only were two measly marks away from an EE or an O! There were even three people who were one stupid mark away from getting As on just the essay questions alone.

The Traveller was finally on the last exam paper. It was at this point, Harry felt her Link open.

Harry, we may need your help sooner than we thought, Thanatos sounded actually kind of tired. Harry doubted it was a good sign to hear the God of Death speak in a manner that suggests he needs to visit his twin brother's Realm for the first time since his birth probably.

What has happened? Harry asked immediately.

We lost the Tracker in the Highlands for a bit, and then in Wiltshire. We have been leading him on a merry dance from Cornwall to Wales by leaving traces of Nick and Perrie there, and it worked only for a few hours but then he found us in Devonshire again. Nick and Perrie cannot keep this up.

Harry frowned, thinking. Then, suddenly, she had a potentially dangerous idea. Tosti, where are Melinoë and her friends?

Preparing a trap for the Tracker at the Tower. We have to send him back to the Otherworld there since he was summoned there but they aren't ready yet. What are you plotting?

Simple: the Tracker isn't the sharpest knife in the bunch. He will follow Nicholas and his wife anywhere – use the two of them as bait, Harry replied. Plus, he also has shown he has a weakness for being challenged.

Harry, Thanatos sounded like an exhausted father, please tell me you are not going to do what I think you're going to do.

Harry smirked evilly. Don't worry, Tosti. Everything will be all right. Just give me a moment to finish this exam paper that I am marking and I will find a way to meet you at the Tower.

The Mistress of Death shut the Link, grinning to herself. She knew the Tracker was not to be taken lightly, but even an immortal undead being had a fatal weakness. One that could be easily exploited if someone knew how to.

By the time, she had finished marking one Corvus Yaxley's exam paper, Harry felt like dancing; the guy got a solid A with two essay questions finished, section one completed and only half of section two done! All he needed to practise was time management, it seemed.

Harry brought the extensive pile back to her dorm and then looked to Athenaïs, who was giving her a knowing look. Harry knew why her familiar was giving her that look.

"I know this isn't ideal. But, how am I ever going to be able to tell them about this?" the Traveller asked her familiar.

Kyyuuuooo!

"I know – they deserve to know the truth. But it could put them all in danger," Harry sighed, carefully putting the pile of papers into her trunk.

Kyyuuuooo!

The Mistress of Death looked at her incredulously. "You think it isn't for me to decide?"

Athenaïs chirped mystically. 'They are your friends, loved ones, mates. Let them choose to take the risk,' Harry translated.

The Mistress of Death began pacing, before she nodded to herself. She then sat down, got some quill, ink and parchment out of her bag and started quilling an extensive letter. Once she was done, she folded it up, put it into an envelope and handed it to Athenaïs.

"Give them this when they come back," Harry instructed with a smile. "I won't be long."

The young Gargouille tried not to roll her eyes but said nothing. She watched her Witch change out of her uniform and into some black clothes, strapping her dagger belt around her waist, along with her rapier to one side and her scythe to her back. Harry put on her ruana before giving Athenaïs a kiss on top of her head and disappearing under her Invisibility Cloak.

Athenaïs could admit to herself that she wasn't as worried as she had been the last time her Witch went into battle; Harry would come back, she knew that. Plus, Aragog had told her needlessly worrying wasn't healthy. What the young dragon worried about was the reactions of some of Harry's loved ones, especially her two potential mates.

Well, let's wait for our Witches and their friends to come back, Sigyn meowed.

We're here for you, Atty, Seraphina added. Harry needs to do this – family is everything to humans. Even if it means putting themselves in danger.

I know, Athenaïs replied. She chirped ethereally. Let's go.

###############################

Altair seemed to be very intune to having funny feelings that Harry was up to something once more. He had no idea why; he knew that she was really determined to mark all of her History students' papers before tomorrow. Gringotts also had no new assignments for her until the Time Compass mess was cleared up? So why was he getting this feeling?

The feeling bit at the Nott heir at regular intervals during his conversations with Artemis, Heron, McGonagall, Arcturus, Loreley and Orion – only for it to worsen when Druella, Walburga, Ophelia and Ygraine had decided to go and check-up on Harry to make sure she wasn't driving herself insane with work overload. Altair opted to go and see if his hunch was correct and decided to join them on the pretence he was going to go and dump his stuff and take a shower.

What made Altair really nervous was the knowing look that Loreley Malfoy wore on her face.

Orion and Arcturus had caught onto Altair's strange behaviour and decided to go with him. As did, to Altair's surprise and quiet delight, Tom. As predicted, the boy's Knights immediately joined him.

All the way down to the dungeons, Altair prayed to whomever would listen that his funny feeling was just something bad he ate and not an actual sign that he was developing a sixth sense when it came down to Harry Evans-Peverell. Unfortunately, it seemed that the Moirai had cut the line between him and any other deity because when the group got to the common room, there was no Harry present but Athenaïs was sitting in her spot, together with Sigyn and Seraphina, much to Ophelia and Walburga's surprise.

"Athenaïs, where is Harry? Is she in the dorm?" Druella asked.

The stone dragon shook her head and picked up something she had between her paws carefully in her mouth and brought it over to the group. It was an envelope addressed to My dear family.

"Oh boy," Druella commented as Orion took the envelope from the familiar. "What has she done now?"

Altair felt his heart sink. He felt Arc next to him give a reassuring squeeze on his arm but it didn't help the fear that was beginning to churn in Altair once more. She promised not to do this anymore!

"What does it say, Black?" Avery asked quietly.

Orion, jumping slightly as he forgot everyone was waiting for him to read, cleared his throat.

To my dear family,

I promised that I would no longer recklessly jump into battle, but I'm afraid my hand has been forced. I told you the only time I would go into battle was to protect people I love – and I love my Peverell family dearly. Grindelwald has used Samhain to threaten the safety of my House – he has had his followers summon the Tracker of Souls. He has a long history but the long and short of it is, he was a hunter who challenged Death to a hunting match and lost. In turn, Death turned him into the ultimate Tracker of Souls, who can hunt anyone living or dead. Grindelwald has sicked this immortal blood hound onto the people who knew my family, Nick and Perrie. The ones who I risked life, limb and magic to rescue in the first place.

Believe it or not, I tried to ignore the calls from Thomas, Henry and Melanie for help as long as I was able to. But considering what I know about the Blood Rite that was used to summon the Tracker, I can't sit back and do nothing because they need all the help they can get.

Please forgive me. If it is any consolation, Athenaïs has advocated for you guys to be told why Grindelwald is so obsessed but I am actually bound by silence in a way, so here is a clue. Read The Tale of the Three Brothers.

I will see you guys later,

Harry

"She wants us to read a fairy story?" Dolohov scoffed. "Why would she want us to read a fairy story?"

"Didn't you listen?" Altair sneered. "It will explain why Grindelwald is obsessed with getting his hands on the Peverells."

Athenaïs chirped ethereally, clearly affirming the statement.

"Malum, does your sister have a copy with her?" Tom asked Avery immediately.

"I think so," Avery frowned.

"Well, let's ask all the little midgets," Mulciber suggested. "One is bound to have a copy with them."

"Let's not waste any more time then," Druella stated, sighing irritably. "Damn it, Harry!"

"Druella!" Walburga protested. "Language!"

"Yeah, yeah, Wally," Ygraine shook her head. "It isn't lady-like, we know."

The group went back to the Great Hall and went around the confused first years, asking for a copy of the Tales of Beedle the Bard. Oizys admitted she forgot her own copy at home, Prince also – several other first years also didn't have it. The young Rookwood boy, however, did manage to bring his copy with him, much to everyone's relief.

Altair was rather surprised when Tom asked him to read the Tale of the Three Brothers and then decided to sit next to him on the sofa when Altair sat down to read. Taking Harry's advice not to look a gift horse in the mouth, the Nott heir obliged; the story had been one of his favourites as a child, after all. When he was younger, Altair always wanted the Invisibility Cloak, since it could mean he could sneak food from the kitchens without anyone looking!

After Altair had finished reading, Dolohov shook his head. "I still don't get why Peverell would want us to read this story about her ancestors."

"I think I do," Arc responded. "It's not about the brothers, or Death. It's about the 'gifts' Death gave the brothers."

"The Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone and the Invisibility Cloak," Ophelia listed. "Also known as the Deathly Hallows."

"The world's most powerful wand, a stone that can bring back the dead and a cloak that can hide anyone from anything, even Death," Mulciber stated, sounding he was talking to himself more than to the group. "Together they make someone the Master of Death …"

It was then that Mulciber's eyes widened. "HOLY MERLIN'S BALLS!"

In that moment, Abraxas Malfoy for some reason looked absolutely resigned.

"Mulciber, what is it?" Druella demanded. "If you know something, don't be shy. Say it."

"Think about it, Druella!" Mulciber rounded on them. "The Peverells owned the Deathly Hallows; their magic is associated with Death. The objects likely were passed from Peverell to Peverell for generations. That is why the Dark Lord is hunting them; Grindelwald wants the Deathly Hallows for himself in order to become Master of Death!"

The group exchanged wide-eyed looks.

"He thinks Harry can lead him to the Hallows," Tom clenched his jaws.

"Do you think she can?" Orion asked worriedly.

"I honestly don't want to know the answer to that question," Heron looked a little bit green as he sat down on one of the sofas, visibly shaking. "Because I have a feeling that Harry knows exactly where one of them is."

Athenaïs practically confirmed his suspicions with a mystical Kyyuuuooo!

###############################

Harry had never been to the Tower of London, so she could not help but be impressed by this old fortress. Her Apparation-Shadow Travel had brought her to the entrance of it, and fortunately not to Traitor's Gate. As she walked up the gravel way to the centre of the infamous prison-castle, making sure to keep herself shrouded by shadows to make sure no Muggles could see her, Harry could not help but feel the heavy air around the place she walked. The dark history was seeped into the very atmosphere, probably down to the after effects of the Blood Rite that had been performed in 1066.

Not too long after arriving, the Mistress of Death was greeted by Melinoë. "Harry! I have never been so glad to see a Mistress of Death in my entire immortal existence," the Goddess of Ghosts stated, looking exhausted.

"Tosti sounded desperate; I couldn't really say no at that point," Harry replied, frowning, as she approached and looked around her. "Wait, where are all the Yeomen?"

"Already asleep!" Melinoë responded, grinning. "Hypnos' spell is working like clockwork."

Harry smirked and then turned serious again. "Tosti said you and your friends have been working on a trap."

"Indeed. Come and meet the residents and guardians of the Tower. They have been rather anxious to meet you," Melinoë informed mischievously, her haunted eyes dancing.

"Indeed, we have been!" two young voices rang out at that point.

As if on cue, two ghostly boys – one of around fourteen, and the other twelve – floated down from one of the roofs of a nearby building. The older boy had dirty blonde hair, cerulean eyes and a cherubic face. His brother had darker brown hair but the same eye colour and looked just as cute as his brother. Harry resisted the urge to coo at them. Both boys were dressed in fine velvet of a late medieval cut with richly embroidered shirts underneath the jackets. The clothes, though they were a little ridiculous, were fit for royalty.

The eldest boy gave her a bow. "Lady Peverell, it is a pleasure. My name is Edward Plantagenet, King of England, though I was never crowned." He gestured to the younger ghost next to him. "This is my brother Richard, the former Duke of York."

Harry's hand flew to her mouth. "You're kidding!" she exclaimed, turning pale. "No … you cannot be. You're them: the Princes in the Tower!"

"Indeed we are, my Lady," King Edward V confirmed with a small, sad smile. "I am still a little miffed at the title – I was declared King after my father died – but one cannot really get rid of an idea once it has stuck. I am pleased to say that we were amongst the first to be chosen as Tower Guardians though!"

"We have been keeping an eye on the Old Magic of the Tower for centuries, though the White Lady is slightly older than we are and thus more adept," Richard Plantagenet added.

Harry had no idea how to answer that statement. These two were murdered children, and yet in death it seemed they were playing a vital role in maintaining the Blood Magic on the Tower.

"Come on, Harry. The others await," Melinoë looped her arm with Harry's and guided her towards the main square of the Tower, the ghosts of the Princes following eagerly.

Not in a thousand years would Harry had believed the sight that met her once she caught sight of the giant tree in the middle of the square. There were four other female ghosts, one of whom was possibly the classic and slightly stereotypical image of a ghost, just without the white sheet. The ghost in question looked like she could be blown into a puff of mist at any second by a gust of wind and not even her face was fully discernible.

Edward and Richard saw Harry's reaction to the ghost and glided up next to her. "That is the White Lady of the White Tower," the young King informed her. "She is an old friend of ours. We are always welcome at her tower. Admittedly none of us know who she was in the past, but all we know is that she wore cheap perfume and that she now enjoys tapping Tower guests on the shoulder before promptly disappearing again."

Harry gave him a pointed look. "So you bully your visitors?"

"What else are we supposed to do with our time?" Richard asked with a frown. "We do play some games with each other but if we make too much noise the Grey Lady starts complaining. Sometimes we go to Wakefield Tower to spend some time with old King Henry but he likes his peace and quiet. Plus, there are only so many times one can hide a ghost-executioner's axe before it becomes redundant. Ergo, we get bored easily."

Melinoë chuckled. "Understatement, Your Grace."

Edward then smiled mischievously at Harry. "Our friends are a bit uppity but good fun. Watch this, my Lady. Anne, Jane, Catherine! Have you finished yet?!"

The young King's shout had caught the attention of one of the ghosts instantly. "My God, Edward! You are still a king; stop shouting like a common child!" The apparition of a young girl of around fifteen came floating towards them, looking quite vexed. She folded her arms in a manner akin to a scolding mother. "I thought that you and Richard were going to make sure the Ravens are sufficiently protected."

"We did!" the boys chorused. "But then the Mistress of Death showed up and we had to simply meet her."

Harry's heart almost stopped beating and she had to blink quite rapidly to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. She had seen enough portraits in history books at the library of her old primary school to know who had arrived. This was Lady Jane Grey, the Nine-Days Queen.

"Lady Jane," she stated breathlessly. The Mistress of Death paled and looked towards the two other ghosts who had stopped whatever it is they were doing. "Wait … does that mean Anne and Catherine are-"

"Queen Anne Boleyn and Queen Catherine Howard," the Nine-Days Queen confirmed with a small smile. Lady Jane Grey floated around Harry a few times, studying her with great interest. The boy King rolled his eyes at this, shaking his head a little judgementally, as did his brother. "My, my, so young. You look only a few years older than my mortal age. But yes – this is definitely a Peverell. Forgive me for saying so, my Lady, but you have death and trouble all around you."

"Yes, that sums me up," Harry agreed with a short laugh.

"Well, at least you are a source of excitement. I sometimes lament the Almighty's decision for me to remain on the mortal plane. Bullying tourists loses its lustre after four centuries," the Nine-Days Queen informed her candidly. "This is honestly the most fun I have had in about two hundred years."

The White Lady and the two famous, ill-fated Queen Consorts of Henry VIII joined the group, the former regarding Harry rather coldly while the two Queens observed her with great interest. "I had hoped I had heard the last of your family; alas, it seems my prayers were not answered," the White Lady rasped.

Harry gulped. "I take it you had a tiff with one of my ancestors?"

The White Lady scoffed but refused to elaborate.

"Now, now, my Lady, we are not going to blame the sins of the ancestor on the descendant, are we?" Queen Anne Boleyn broke in with a light, teasing tone, smiling a friendly smile at Harry. The Lady Regnant noticed that the Queen's countenance was not as sharp as her classical portrait's, but other than that it was a close likeness. Her beauty was definitely not conventional even for the 40s or the 90s, but those dark eyes had such character to them even in spectral form that Harry was sure she could spend hours staring at them. "So it is true – this mighty warrior is no more than a young lady."

There was a natural mischief to the Queen's tone that made Harry flush slightly. "Erm … I am sorry to disappoint, Your Majesty."

"Nonsense," Anne Boleyn stated dismissively. "I am very impressed with warrior women. My daughter was one, after all."

This made Lady Jane, Catherine Howard and the White Lady all pinch the bridge of their noses. It seemed they had heard enough stories about Elizabeth I to last the rest of their afterlife!

Queen Catherine Howard floated forth with a beaming smile. "We have been hearing the tales of your accomplishments from Melinoë. My favourite is still the tale of the cursed portrait. Absolutely riveting to listen to!"

Harry could not help but note not only just how pretty the ghost was, even in her spectral form, but also how young. There was no way that the Queen was any older than Harry herself was. She was also under the impression that Catherine's ghost was supposed to haunt Hampton Court Palace, but decided to not ask questions about that.

"It was vexing to deal with at the time, and slightly stressful," Harry admitted.

"Oh, I can only imagine," Catherine Howard reassured her. The teenaged Queen turned back to her old friends. "We have been more than happy in assisting in laying a decent trap for the Tracker. It has been the most fun we have had in centuries! Teasing tourists has really become quite mundane, as has floating around waiting to be 'bombed', as they say."

Harry smiled sadly. "Indeed, Your Majesty."

"Melinoë has informed us you have a plan to lure the Tracker into our trap," the White Lady rasped.

"That's correct," the Mistress of Death confirmed.

"Would you like some assistance?" Anne Boleyn inquired, a glint of mischief in her own eyes. "We are no longer completely powerless wraiths after all."

"Well, then I must pose the question: how does your trap work?" Harry questioned.

"Oh, it is rather nifty if I have to admit," Catherine Howard grinned. "It is supposed to chain anything Otherworldly down to the ground and paralyse the entity to the spot."

The Traveller returned the grin. "How long will it hold him?"

"Hopefully long enough for him to be cast back into the Otherworld," Anne Boleyn replied. "So, your plan is to use the Flamels as bait and to exploit the Tracker's greatest weakness. Correct?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Harry confirmed with a nod of her head.

"How are you going to exploit it?" Richard asked eagerly.

"Simple: the Tracker cannot resist a challenge. I will give him an offer he will simply be unable to refuse," Harry informed, causing a certain degree of alarm amongst the Tower Ghosts.

"What kind of offer?" the White Lady demanded.

"The Flamels in exchange for the people who summoned him in the first place," the smirk that formed on the Mistress of Death's face even scared the centuries old ghosts. Melinoë shook her head. "Except, of course we will have a failsafe to make sure the Flamels are kept out of harm's way."

"Which is?" Edward questioned.

"We keep the Flamels hidden under by Invisibility Cloak or as Shadow Creatures, which ever they prefer and then cast an image that looks like the Flamels on the trap," Harry answered easily. "The Tracker will be able to sense them in the Tower, which is what we need because otherwise he will see right through the deception. But, I am willing to bet a trip to magical London that he will not notice the difference until it is too late."

"I hate to admit it, you diabolical girl, but that could definitely work," Melinoë sighed.

"So, how may we be of assistance?" Lady Jane wanted to know.

"Do what you can. I do not care what method you employ," Harry responded with a smile.

"Splendid!" Catherine Howard clapped her hands together in glee. She promptly turned to the ghosts of the Princes standing next to her. "Edward, Richard, are you prepared for some proper play time?"

The two boys nodded enthusiastically.

"Catherine," Lady Jane Grey sighed exasperatedly. "Behave yourself."

"Always one for etiquette and decorum," the fifth Tudor queen consort raised an elegant eyebrow in such a refined and sarcastic manner that Walburga would have been jealous of. "We have an opportunity for some actual fun. If you tell me you are not in the least bit excited, shame on you for lying even after you have passed on, my Lady."

"Your Majesty," Jane corrected coldly. "I was a Queen Regnant, Catherine. Perhaps for nine days but Queen, nonetheless. How many times do I need to remind you? Show me some respect."

"You were a usurper to the throne," Catherine Howard shot back, causing Harry to wince when she saw an eerie glow enter the eyes of Lady Jane Grey. "I may have had my disagreements with Mary, but she was the King's lawfully begotten daughter. It was always her throne, no matter what Edward and his councillors said on the matter. You should consider yourself lucky you were remembered at all!"

"I had Royal blood coursing through my veins, which is more than I can say for a forgotten daughter from a disgraced, debt-ridden, hen-pecked father who himself was a disgrace to the noble name he bore!" the Nine-Days Queen fired back. "A daughter whose morals were directed at merry-making and messing with men rather than concerned with scholarly pursuits or the Lord and thus contributed to getting said daughter's head on the chopping block!"

Harry took a step back as Catherine Howard's gentile face contorted in rage and her eyes glowed a dangerous blue colour. "There were no funds left over for a proper education, you judgemental strumpet! As Queen, I tried my best to fill the role in charity work and be a stepmother to the children. As for Mannox and Dereham," the Queen spat out those names with such vitriol, Harry flinched, "they abused their positions and took advantage of a girl who admittedly was stupid and naïve. But I was a child. I had nothing to defend myself with! No one would believe me; they would all say it was my fault because that is what everyone thought back then. That I somehow must have deserved it or wanted it. Do not even get me started on Thomas Culpeper, who threatened time and again to betray me if I didn't do what he asked!"

Harry could barely believe her ears. It was at this point the White Lady intervened. She began fading back into mist with anger. "Are we going to have the age old discussion again?" she snapped. "This is not the time to be at each other's throats. Really, in four hundred, three hundred years and still you two squabble like petulant children!"

"To be fair, they are children," Harry pointed out meekly.

Both Jane and Catherine began using some very creative cuss words and phrases, some in Latin and Greek in Jane's case. It was literally a case of being saved by the arrival of the Gods of Death and Sleep when Thanatos and Hypnos arrived with the two exhausted but otherwise in high spirits semi-immortals. Both Queens were forced to calm down.

Nicholas and Perenelle beamed at Harry. "My Lady! You are looking well. Did you have a good Samhain?" Nicholas inquired jovially, as if he was at a family reunion and not running for his life.

"I did, thank you. Did you?" Harry smiled as the Immortal Alchemist and his wife joined her side.

"Pleasant enough. We had a small dinner with our parents, as always," Nicholas informed. "They were very surprised by some of the modern technology. I hope you don't mind, but they were using the typewriter in your office at Arcana House a lot."

Harry blinked. "That's perfectly fine with me," she reassured. "Did Thanatos and Hypnos tell you of my idea?"

"To use us as bait," Perenelle smiled. "It is a good idea, despite everything."

Harry then informed the newcomers of her plan to challenge the Tracker and to try and bargain with fake versions of the Flamels in order to lure the semi-man into the trap the Tower Ghosts had laid for him. By the end, Nicholas and Perenelle looked slightly relieved while Thanatos and Hypnos looked like they were trying to decide to be afraid or impressed. The Flamels had opted to hide as Shadow Creatures with the Invisibility Cloak as a Plan B.

The Tower Ghosts rushed around, making sure their trap was secure and checking on the Tower Ravens. Harry, Thanatos, Hypnos and Melinoë stood at the edge of the lawn of the execution spot of so many of England's most famous historical characters.

Suddenly, a cold, harsh wind – one that was laced with supernatural energy – blew into the Tower of London. Harry exchanged a quick look with her divine friends as she heard the neighing of a horse that was less than a minute away. The Tracker had arrived.

The Mistress of Death smirked to herself.

Game on.

#####################################

So, Harry has met Orion's grandfather and her godfather's namesake and has been offered an official alliance between herself and House Black. Tom's Defence lesson seems to have gone down well; hopefully it will continue. And it seems like the daughter of Prongs is up to her old, slightly mental tricks again! How will the Tracker deal with this opponent? Will Grindelwald's scheme pay off? Stay tuned to find out!

I am so sorry that it took so long; my weekend away with my friends was intensive and apparently, they have a very different idea to what camping entails so I basically was without my laptop because I thought we would be camping in the wilderness or a campsite like normal people but oh well. I got a break from electronics for a day or two!

Disclaimer: 'Our Last Summer' belongs naturally to ABBA and I am just playing in JK's sandbox along with a lot of other people.

Oh and for those who are interested, I based Sirius Black II's appearance on actor Elliot Cowan.

Orion: We did miss you though!

Awww thanks, Orion! I hope to see you guys in the next chapter!

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