CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Athenaïs waited for her Witch's friends to all go to bed before she decided to sneak out of the Slytherin common room and out of the dungeons. The young Gargouille was on a solo mission, one that she had to do on her own without the help of Sigyn, Seraphina or Frey. They would only try to stop her anyway. She loved her friends and Harry's friends to pieces, but the Familiar of the Mistress of Death was not a fool. She had seen first-hand how humans could turn on each other and the attack of Lament on Oizys Avery told her that some humans didn't care whether or not they hurt a hatchling.

The Gargouille knew there was a new human at Hogwarts, a teacher apparently. She had heard it was the grandfather of Orion, so in theory it should be OK to have him near the children but she wanted to be sure. Athenaïs knew she was likely being paranoid, but she still had to make sure that there was no funny business going on.

Peeves the poltergeist was causing the usual mischief that the caretaker would have to deal with in the morning, with the Bloody Baron trying to track him down, muttering obscenities under his breath. Thanks to her friends in the necklace, Athenaïs managed to avoid them as well as Caroline Harrow and the Prefects who were out on patrol; hiding amongst the gargoyle and dragon statues around the castle was too easy at this point.

Athenaïs made her way up to the sixth floor via one of the passageways for familiars; she just about fitted, and she didn't fancy braving the moving staircases despite her ability to fly so the dragon decided to take the short-cut. The young dragon used the moonlight that was beaming into the corridor through the windows to try and find the odd portrait of the Veiled Lady and her ravens – the one she heard Orion and Heron discussing. When she finally found it, Athenaïs cocked her head at it. The portrait looked normal; there was no door handle or anything to suggest it was a door. Then again, wizards like their little tricks.

Use your magic, Athenaïs heard Lara suggest. Focus on the portrait and feel around for a latch.

The onyx orbs of the Gargouille glowed bright green and she grinned to herself at the portrait glowed bright green too. The magic ran over the portrait and slipped to the back and the sides of it, feeling around for anything that could release it. Finally, after about a good minute of searching, Athenaïs felt something that could be considered a releasing mechanism and wrapped her magic around it, closing on of her claws.

Click!

The Veiled Lady swung inwards and the young Gargouille padded into the darkness, her eyes adjusting easily to the dark. Eventually, she came into a giant room with a fireplace, sofas, book cases and a big table with chairs around it. She saw a light coming from one of the other doors at the other end of the room. Stealthily, Athenaïs began exploring the room. There were family photos around on the surfaces of the book cases – a few of them were of Orion and a girl who was slightly older and rarely smiled. Next she looked at the papers on the coffee table between the sofas. School work; she recognised the funny squiggles Orion, Heron and Harry studied.

"Ah, Hesper! How are you, my love?" she heard a gruff voice from behind the door with the light shining under the cracks. The young dragon frowned, spread her wings and glided over to the door, landing silently and elegantly in front of the door and pressed an ear to the door.

The man continued. "Yes, I am well, don't fret. Yes, dear I am watching my meat intake."

It was then Athenaïs heard a sliver of a female voice reply. "Good. So, did you get a chance to see this girl up close? Hera Evans?"

"Yes, indeed, my dear. She's got an interesting duality to her; you can sense the power radiating off her the moment she steps into a room but the girl had no arrogance to her at all," Athenaïs smiled at this. "I have no idea to which House the girl belongs but I know that if we make an alliance with her, we will be able to pose of enough of a challenge to fend off the Light and their schemes."

"That is, if she has political ambitions," the woman pointed out. "Sirius, my love, Orion has her friendship – should he ever become Lord Black, an alliance with the girl is already secured. Besides, it seems to me that the Lady Regnant may be as wilful as Lucretia and our darling Lycoris. Do not interfere; simply keep an eye on her."

"Oh, I will," Sirius replied. "Anyone who can outwit Grindelwald and be invited to the Malfoys' Yule Ball without a formal debut is worth knowing."

The young Gargouille withdrew from the door, frowning to herself. Somehow, she had the feeling that she was missing something.

Her friends, however, knew exactly what was going on.

The former Lord Black wants to pull Harry into the fold, Eve, Evren Peverell's Nathair Sídhe familiar, hissed. Through marriage.

Athenaïs growled lowly. Impossible! Harry has two mates already.

Mates who have yet to stake their claim, Eve reminded her. To the rest of the humans, Harry is completely free. Plus, the Blacks are powerful – a Peverell in their line would only increase that power.

Then, I suppose I will have to ask Frey for her assistance, Athenaïs decided. I will not allow my Witch to be sold on the market like a common cow!

On that we are agreed, Eve stated.

Athenaïs, now with a new mission in mind, silently took to the air again and left Sirius Black's rooms, determined to put a stopper in the man's plans concerning her Witch and friend, not realising that his wife was firmly on her side.

Up in Ravenclaw Tower, Loreley Malfoy smiled and chuckled to herself in her sleep.

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The Tracker was almost exactly like Harry had envisioned, only three times as terrifying. The once handsome face of Ankou was gaunt, haunting and now had a quality to it that was beyond human. He was decked entirely in black; she was quietly jealous of his awesome coat and boots. In her humble opinion, her scythe trumped his every day of the week! The Tracker earned back some points with his terrifying horse and cage that now had two souls trapped inside it. Harry grimaced at the sight of it; it looked like one of those nightmarish devices that witch hunters in the 14th and 17th centuries used. She had seen enough of them in manuscripts to take an educated guess at how the cage was used. Ankou scanned the area unblinkingly, clearly looking for his targets and growling menacingly when he didn't see them.

"Good evening," Harry grinned jovially. "We have not been introduced. I am the Mistress of Death, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Tracker."

"You … are not … the one I … seek," the Tracker rasped, sounding incredibly annoyed.

"Well, I should hope not or you'd face an angry Tosti. You made that mistake once. I wouldn't do it again, if I were you," Harry grinned. The Tracker, for the first time since he arrived, looked directly at Thanatos, who stared back unblinkingly.

Neither of them said a word to each other.

"Where … are they?" the Tracker demanded, his horse neighing eerily.

"Who? Nick and Perrie? Oh they're here somewhere," Harry responded flippantly. "I think they said they were going to see the Crown Jewels … or was it they were going to visit the Grey Lady? Apparently she's been stroppy of late. Or was it King Henry they were going to visit? Hmmm … I forgot, sorry."

The Tracker's eyes flashed dangerously. "Do … not … mess with me, Mistress … of Death!"

"Why not? You have nothing better to do and as you know, they are here," the Traveller smirked. "But enough about them, I have a deal for you."

"What … deal?"

"You can have Nick and Perrie – after all, the poor dears have lived multiple centuries. They deserve a break," Harry tried to ignore the beating off her heart as the Tracker's horse sniffed her face. "But in exchange for them … I want to know who summoned you here in the first place."

For a moment, the Tracker seemed to be considering her deal. There was an eerie silence for about a minute before the semi-immortal spoke again. "I … cannot."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"They … never … gave me … their names."

Harry cursed internally. It seemed someone had been doing their homework! But she simply smiled serenely. "But you can find them, can you not? You know their faces."

"I … do."

"Well, then. Do we have a deal, or don't you think you're up to it?" Harry challenged, her eyes flashing silver. "Considering how much difficulty you had with the Flamels, I say you might be losing your touch, somewhat!"

The Tracker growled and his horse looked set to trample her, but they quickly calmed down when Harry drew her scythe, Thanatos drew his sword and Melinoë drew her staff. "Very … well. You … have a deal."

The cold wind arose once more and almost within a blink of an eye, the Tracker shot out of the Tower, the echoes of those spooky neighs from his horse running around the courtyard. The White Lady floated out from her hiding place. "I hope you know what you are doing, Lady Peverell."

"I do," Harry promised. She turned to her godly friends. "I need the three of you to stay hidden, invisible and out of the way but close enough just in case something goes wrong."

"We are not leaving you vulnerable to attack," Thanatos immediately argued, frowning.

The Traveller sobered. "Thanatos, if these agents see you, the whole game will be up anyway. I know how to cloak my face with shadows; they will not see my face. But they need to think I am on my own."

"She's right," the White Lady did not sound happy about agreeing with a Peverell.

"We need to trust her abilities," Hypnos put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We did train her, after all."

Thanatos still looked worried. "But the Tracker-"

"We have several traps laid for him, and for those three humans," Melinoë pointed out.

Edward V and his brother floated up eagerly. "The mimic Flamels are ready and we have taken the liberty of setting up a few more tricks and traps at the entrance and here in the courtyard. Oh and we know how to fight too."

"This is our home and we will defend it," Richard stated firmly.

"Well, we can't argue there," Melinoë stated happily.

"Let us hope the Tracker doesn't take too long or we will have some very awkward explaining to do to," Catherine Howard joked as she finished checking the extra traps.

Harry snorted. "Understatement, Your Majesty!"

"How long do you think it will take him?" the young Plantagenet King asked curiously.

"Not long. Constant vigilance, everyone!" Harry smirked as Thanatos used Moody's old catch phrase.

The answer to how long it took the Tracker to hunt down the three knumbskulls who had decided to summon him in the first place was actually half an hour, and then about ten to fifteen minutes to get back to the Tower. Frankly, Harry was surprised just how quick the semi-immortal hunter was. Cloaking her face and body in shadows, she prepared to meet the idiots whom Grindelwald had hired to call on the Tracker's services. The fake Flamels appeared on the grass behind her; the Tower Ghosts and the three immortals skirted on all directions, taking their hiding places as the cold supernatural winds of the Tracker blew into the fortress once more. The tree behind Harry swayed ominously, like a creepy, spidery dancer.

The Mistress of Death drew her scythe and the dagger that housed her artic fox soul, readying herself for anything. She stared down the hellish horse that belonged to the Tracker, the horse snorting at her haughtily.

"-what are you doing? Did you get them? You will be rewarded by our master!" the Traveller already wanted to punch this person in the face for speaking. The voice was so disgustingly posh, it made the accents of the pureblood children sound like they were speaking in a Cockney accent.

"-d-d-d-d-did you h-h-have to kidnap u-u-us out of our b-b-beds?" Harry frowned at that jittery tone. Why was it so bloody familiar?

"Put us down, I say! Have you gone barking mad?!"

The Tracker dumped the three men unceremoniously onto the ground with a nasty THUMP! Harry would have felt sorry for them under different circumstances. She could see their faces a bit more clearly now. One was pale, with an almost skull-like face, a mop of fair hair and slightly freckled skin; for a moment, it was like staring at Barty Crouch Junior but this man had brown eyes, and not blue. The second man looked like Macnair: tall, muscular with a sharp face and black hair. The third man made Harry's blood boil; she didn't know why, but the man reminded her strongly of Wormtail.

As for the three men in question, they chittered in fear and their eyes only swung to look at the person they had been dumped in front of when the Tracker got off his cart and began to approach this stranger. The entity – that was the best word they had – was short, lithe and slim with a definite feminine build. She was dressed in peculiar clothes and half of her face was entirely covered by shadows, her silver eyes glowing as brightly as the stars in the night sky. Tendrils of shadows came off her clothes and the three sleeper agents of Grindelwald could have sworn she had a pair of wings. In one hand was a scythe decorated with intricate Runes and in the other, was a dagger. Strapped to her side were more daggers and a rapier.

Whatever this entity was, all three knew they were in grave danger. This dark angel had caught on to what they were doing.

"I … kept … my side … of the bargain," the Tracker rasped, causing the three men to flinch.

The one who looked like Barty Crouch clenched his teeth. "We were the ones to summon you! Thereby, according to the divine laws, you have to obey us!"

"I … did," the Tracker responded coldly. "But … a better deal … was made."

The three sleepers suddenly noticed the forms of Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, staring at them unblinkingly and with no emotion. "You did find them," the man who was reminiscent of Macnair smirked. "Finally!"

The three of them tried to get to their feet but as soon as they did, the Tracker had his scythe with its point to their chins, growling. "Their souls … are mine."

"W-w-w-we know," the stuttering man jittered, in an attempt to sound placating. "W-w-w-we just w-w-want to ask them a few questions, as we said-"

"Not according … to the … new deal," the Tracker rasped coldly.

It was in that moment that the bells in the three sleeper agents' heads started pealing. Their eyes turned directly onto the strange entity, who was very clearly smirking. The dark angel had managed to convince the Tracker to overturn his first agreement and make a new deal! But how?! Very few people knew exactly how to override the ancient, divine law that dictated the Tracker and his movements once he was summoned onto the mortal plane with magic!

"What have you done?" the Crouch-look alike snarled at the shadowy Traveller in front of him.

"Awww, have I thrown a spanner in the works for you?" the voice that came out of the entity's mouth was mystical and musical, and sounded like it came from the very depths of the earth. "But really – you have been causing quite a bit of bother. Summoning the Tracker to do your dirty work; shame on you!"

The three men now got to their feet, anger and fear bathing in their eyes. Their hands went towards their wands.

"Who are you?" the Macnair-like man snarled.

"Someone who would have preferred to stay in bed, rather than clean up your mess," was the entity's taunting answer.

"W-w-what do you want?" the stutterer tried to sound intimidating but only got the dark angel to scoff at him.

"Some peace and quiet would be nice," she quipped. "And to do that, I have to deal with the people who caused the noise in the first place!"

Before the three Dark wizards could react, Harry had slashed her dagger at them, the arctic fox springing into action immediately, soon followed by Cu Annwn she summoned using her scythe. In retaliation, the three men shot several non-verbal spells at the creatures – spells of yellow lightning, a purple hex and a red Stunner amongst them – with the artic fox evading each one elegantly, followed by the fairy dogs, who used their abilities over Mist to dodge the attacks. Harry used her Soul Fire abilities to allow the young fox to swish its tail, sending whips of Soul Fire at the Dark wizards; with each hit, the three men howled in agony. The Cu Annwn, once they saw the humans had lowered their guard, attempted to bring them down with well-aimed bite attacks, elemental magic coating their fangs, but the pack was knocked back by a powerful non-verbal Knockback Jinx from the Crouch-look alike.

He glowered at her, dodging another Soul Fire slash from the arctic fox. "Fight us yourself, you coward!" he roared.

The Mistress of Death smirked. She took out her lantern; the cheetah, the lion and the crocodile souls floated out of it eagerly. The Dark wizards watched in horror as the rest of the daggers unsheathed themselves from her belt and one by one, they were each lit with Soul Fire. With a sharp click of her fingers, the daggers zoomed under the influence of the non-verbal, wandless Oppugno directly at the three sleeper agents. The Crouch and Macnair ancestors managed to throw up protection shields but their jittery companion was not as fast or lucky.

He was struck in the left leg by one dagger, in his left shoulder by another and a third narrowly missed his face, cutting his across the right cheek, the Soul Fire causing the wounds to flare up. It was a good thing Hypnos was still maintain his hold over the Yeomen because the sound the wizard produced could have woken the rest of the ghosts at the Tower as well as the living guards.

As the daggers came flying back to their owner, a giant, thick mist bank started to roll into the courtyard towards the three Dark wizards. They tried to scramble away from it as much as they could – the Wormtail-esque man still whimpering and whinging in pain – but the masse of white mist was too fast for them. As soon as it engulfed them, the three sleepers found they were unable to move. Their very joints and muscles seemed to refuse to move; it was like they were being encase in ice. To make matters worse, out of the mist – as fast as vipers hunting for their prey – spectral chains the colour of obsidian shot out and entangled themselves around the wrists and ankles of the men. The eldritch aura that surrounded the chains made the sleeper agents flinch and flail around like fish and above their heads, like swords of Damocles, were three glowing swords.

Eerie, child-like chuckles resonated around them and the three wizards watched in horror and fury as a pure white spectre and the spirits of two young boys suddenly materialised in front of them. It seemed the pesky Tower Guardians had come to play after all!

"Caught in our trap!" the eldest of the boys sang giddily.

"Why you little sh-"

BONK! The Macnair ancestor was promptly silenced with a sharp hit to the top of his noggin by a shield, of all things.

"This one has a potty mouth," the youngest boy commented, shaking his head.

"I should have put a muffling element to my mist," the White Lady mused, shaking her head at the three living wizards.

"Let us go this instant!" the Crouch-like man roared.

"No," the White Lady responded crisply.

As for the Mistress of Death herself, she had been occupied the entire time with facing the Tracker, together with the help of Catherine Howard, Lady Jane Grey and Anne Boleyn. The immortal being had discovered, while the living humans were distracted, that the Flamels were a fake and had tried to attack Harry from behind with his scythe, only be blocked skilfully by the Mistress of Death. She used her own scythe to "take away" his high cut. He was then shot by a bolt of blue energy fired by Catherine and a ball of Soul Fire hitting his face, courtesy of Anne. The bolt and the fireball hit their mark, one to the Tracker's side and the other to his scythe arm, forcing the being to drop his weapon. The Tracker howled in pain and anger. The Nine-Days Queen didn't give him time to recover, sending him flying back onto the remnants of Tower Hill with a powerful telekinetic force. Anne immediately clicked her fingers, activating their trap. In an instant, several glowing chains had bound themselves around the wrists, ankles and necks of the summoned spirit and rooting him to the ground.

The Tracker did not yield so easily, however. With a determined shriek, he sent forth Mortis Bats from the depths of his cloak, the bats screeching menacingly as they headed for the Mistress of Death. The young witch in question, feeling actually kind of smug at how prepared she was to deal with this threat, sent non-verbal Knockback Jinxes, Red Sparks and several Verdimillious Charms into the onslaught of flying rodents.

As she had predicted, the loud noises that came with the spells and the flaring light of the two Charms immediately sent the bats into disarray, each one flying off in different – and incorrect – directions. A few of them flew directly at the three Dark wizards being detained by the White Lady, King Edward and Prince Richard, causing the three men to duck for cover.

"You … will … NOT GET … AWAY WITH THIS!" the Tracker snarled as the Shadow Creatures that were Nicholas and Perenelle slipped out of the shadows to join Harry's side. "You … interfere … where you … are not … permitted to!"

"On the contrary, our deal was simple: the Flamels in exchange for the three mortals who summoned you," Harry responded crisply. An evil smirk then stretched onto her countenance and the Shadow Creatures chuckled. "I never specified if I would give the real Flamels, did I? I gave you Nick and Perrie; you just don't like the fact they are fake."

Ankou roared with rage, struggling madly against his chains. In response, Queen Anne tightened their hold on him, curling her right hand slowly inwards. The Tracker's horse looked set to stampede the deceased Queen Consort and the Mistress of Death but its ire was quickly stilled by a spooky, mystic song that came out of Queen Catherine's mouth.

"She has the propensity to do that to Hampton Court and Tower employees a lot," Lady Jane grumbled, shaking her head. "They deserve a break, she says!"

It was at this precise moment Thanatos, Hypnos and Melinoë showed themselves. The God of Sleep went to deal with the three sleeper agents while the God of Death and the Goddess of Ghosts went to reprimand their servant.

"It is a very good thing I know how difficult ignoring the call of a Blood Rite is on Samhain or I would be sentencing you to Hades for the next five hundred years," Thanatos informed Ankou, his eyes glowing silver.

"You … are not allowed … to stop me," the Tracker rasped, half-chuckling. "Divine law … does not … permit it."

"No," Melinoë agreed with a smirk. "But it does allow us to deal with you once you have been stopped. The rules state that we cannot summon you back unless you have either completed your task or been stopped by another mortal being. You cannot escape our clutches entirely, Ankou, old friend."

The Tracker's eyes flared red. "The Flamels … should have died … a long time ago!"

This made the two Shadow Creatures deflate quite visibly.

"That is not for you to decide," Thanatos responded coldly. "Only the Moirai are allowed to dictate how long they are permitted to stay. You overreach yourself, as always!"

"How do we send him back?" Harry spoke up in a quiet but calm tone.

"I … will not … leave … without … a soul," growled the Tracker of Souls.

"A Blood Rite summoned him; one will be needed to send him back," Anne Boleyn responded grimly. "The wizards sacrificed a woman to bring him here, a sacrifice will be needed to allow Thanatos and Melinoë to take him."

Harry paled. "You mean … kill someone."

"Unfortunately, yes," Lady Jane confirmed sadly. "It is part of the pact made between those wizards and the Tracker. That was why we are dumb-founded at the stupidity of those three in question. Another sacrifice is the only way now."

The Traveller's jaws clenched. Of course these three would have made sure another person had to die in order to allow the Tracker back into the Otherworld! Why had she expected anything less?

It was at this point the cheetah, the lion and the crocodile all growled and snapped, speaking up for the first time. Harry had no idea how but she knew exactly what they were saying: "use one of the idiots who caused this mess in the first place!"

Melinoë and the Tower Ghosts all looked towards the three Dark wizards, who were now both under a very deep sleeping spell, clearly understanding the animal souls as well. Harry was very reluctant to use anyone as a sacrifice, but she also knew these men were agents of Grindelwald who had threatened the safety of her family, Secret Keepers to her family and who had already murdered an innocent to try and get what they wanted.

A cold, icy look entered those verdant orbs.

Thanatos could hear her thoughts loud and clearly. "Which one?" he asked, his voice sounding too soothing for the situation.

"The one who reminds me of the rat," Harry growled.

"Which one?" Catherine asked, still petting the hellish horse.

"The one on the right," the Traveller replied coldly.

Queen Anne nodded. "As you wish."

The Wormtail-like man's comatose form was levitated up by Anne and floated towards the green of Tower Hill. Harry took one of her still floating daggers and approached the sleeping wizard as he lay snoozing, disgust etched on her face.

"Do you know the words to undo the Blood Rite?" Lady Jane asked gently.

"I do, Your Majesty," Harry confirmed, her eyes still on the man before her. "Cum hoc sanguine, remitto vos unde venisti! Apage!"

As soon as she stated the last word, the Mistress of Death plunged her dagger between where she gauged was the man's fourth and fifth rib cage and punctured his heart, killing him instantly. The Tracker roared once more in rage, tugging at his manacles, trying to free himself as Thanatos and Melinoë turned to him, the soul of the Dark wizard drifting into the Tracker's cage.

Both deities raised their hands at Ankou and almost within a minute, the Tracker was enveloped by shadows, as was his horse, cage and carriage, his cold wind whipping around the Tower square, an eerie howl echoing around them. But in a blink of an eye, the wind settled, the howling was gone as was the Tracker, his horse and that creepy cage of his, leaving a calm but heavy silence around the Tower courtyard. With the Tracker gone, Nicholas and Perenelle were returned to their normal, human forms, looking extremely relieved.

"That was just as unpleasant as the last time," Nicholas commented jollily. Perenelle rolled her eyes at her husband's antics.

"Well done, my Lady," Lady Jane smiled at Harry genuinely.

Harry swallowed the bit of bile that was threatening to come up as she cleaned her dagger off blood and sheathed her weapons once more, avoiding the body at her feet at all costs. "Thank you," was all she managed to answer.

"What are we going to do with those two?" Queen Catherine nodded her head towards the two comatose wizards as Harry, the two death deities, the Flamels, Anne and Jane headed towards the second group.

"I would like to hang them outside the walls as a warning to others but apparently that would be too overt," the White Lady complained, folding her arms sulkily. "I know for a fact we are not allowed to keep the body either."

Harry titled her head as she studied the men, frowning to herself. "Is there any way we can modify their memories? That they know something went wrong with their deal with the Tracker but don't remember exactly why except they keep having weird dreams about ghosts and angels?"

Hypnos thought for a moment before he lit up. "Actually, yes we can!"

The ghosts of Edward and Richard also lit up but Lady Jane put an end to their enthusiasm very quickly. "No, no, no, no, you two are not – I repeat, not – going to start Dream Walking again! We are lucky that the Yeomen believed Samhain was playing with their heads the last time you did that."

The young King and his brother pouted.

"I think it is best we leave it to Hypnos and his children to deal with them," Melinoë was forced to agree.

Harry smiled to herself. "Which means it is time for me to go back to school."

"Indeed! Try to get some sleep," Catherine grinned at her. "Lest you accidentally sneeze and set something on fire because you are so tired."

The Mistress of Death scoffed. "That has yet to happen, fortunately!"

"May I walk you to the front gates, my Lady?" Queen Anne's question took Harry by surprise. "I wish to discuss something with you."

Harry blinked. Was she going to turn down spending more time with one of the most famous ghosts and Queens in English history? Errr… no. "Yes, of course, Your Majesty."

"Night, Harry!" Melinoë called as the witch and the Queen set off.

"Sleep well, Harry! Thank you again!" Thanatos added.

"Thank you for your help, my Lady!" the Flamels and the Tower Ghosts chorused.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Anne turned to Harry. "I know it is none of my business, my Lady, but I am hoping you will take some advice from an old ghost who has had quite a few experiences through her life and afterlife."

"Of course," Harry smiled. "What is it?"

"I hear you have the right to sit in your magical government, being Lady Regnant of House Peverell," Anne replied carefully. "From what Melinoë has told me over the years, it is a place dominated by stuffy old men whose antiquated ideas echoed those of my own time in some respects. Especially the ones about women not being able to rule and work in politics."

Harry half chuckled. "You can say that again, Your Majesty."

"Then here is some advice from a woman who tried to play the men at their own dangerous game: tread very carefully. Do not allow them to see any weakness, keep your heart guarded unless you are with those you trust and even then, do not tell them everything," the Queen responded. "Mind your words, even when you are overcome with stress. I failed to do this, and it helped to cost me my life."

Harry blanched. "But the accusations against you-"

"Were false, of course they were," Anne smiled sadly. "But that mattered very little. Henry's mind was fickle, especially after his jousting accident, and he chose to listen to a man whose ambitions were threatened by my own power, my family's power and the growing influence of those who were accused alongside me. All because it suited my dear husband's own interests. Admittedly, I did make inappropriate comments under stress and acted perhaps too flirtatiously for the taste of Court. I attempted to play my role as Queen as best as I could, but my primary duty – giving the king a son – was unfulfilled and that was the nail in my coffin. You must not make the same mistake as I did. Do not let the black dog cloud your good sense and do not give your enemies a reason to bring your downfall. For in this game, a woman's weapons have to be sharp at all times and appear benign when they are not. Show your hand only when you know you can win."

Harry soaked in the words all the way to the gates, nodding along to what the Queen Consort was saying. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I will bear your advice in mind."

"Call me Anne, my Lady. I think you have earned the right," Anne Boleyn smiled kindly. "Until we meet again."

The Queen and the Lady Regnant curtsied to one another before the latter disappeared into the night sky as a shadowy dragon. Anne Boleyn watched the tendrils of shadows disappear and felt herself smile.

Queen Anne may have been dead for centuries but she was still a politician at heart. She knew that, somehow, this young witch may one day upend magical Britain, Anne so certain she would have willingly betted on it, and she would be very pleased indeed if she herself had a hand in this girl's rise!

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Queenie, Vida and Credence – who was sporting a giant pumpkin costume for Samhain on Grindelwald's orders – made their way tentatively down towards the communication rooms where the Alliance wizards who were awaiting telegrams from their agents and spies in the field were still sitting in the early hours. Many of them had snuck cups of coffee from their hidden stash or were taking quick naps at their desk blankets over them. There had been only one update from Rollo about an up-and-coming meeting at Gringotts with the Cursebreaker and their apparently irate clients. Other than that, the sleeper agents who were supposed to have executed the plan hours ago, had not been in touch.

At all. The whole night, nothing.

Predictably, that did not sit well with Gellert at all. The Dark Lord was already extra cranky for reasons-no-one-dared-to-ask-why and it was only exacerbated by the fact that the sleeper agents had yet to communicate whether the plan had been a success or a failure. At present, Gellert was playing the most Merlin-awful music in his study that Queenie, Vida and Credence had ever heard, and that was saying something! Apparently everyone else had to suffer because Gellert was sulky that he wasn't getting answers fast enough.

Queenie had attempted to cheer him up with tea and a chocolate cookie – both she and Vida had finally relented and had bought a unbelievable amount of cookies just so that their raiding parties didn't get saddled with shopping lists again – but that had actually failed.

All it had done was start up Gellert's complaining again about the amount of times he had been saddled with digestives!

"Oh, so now you finally bring the good kind of cookies! Just give poor old Gellert the dry, dirty Digestives and wait until he becomes pouty to give him chocolate cookies. That is the game now is it? Well, if you want pouty, I will give you pouty! Have you heard from our agents yet? No? Why haven't you checked? Why is this tea so bland? Where is my honey?"

It had been extremely tempting for Queenie to knock her friend and master out for a while to give them all some peace and quiet.

That was when she, Vida and Credence had decided to try and see if their presence somehow magically ensured that lo! a telegram from the sleepers would come through. The three of them did have some pity for the poor suckers who were stuck behind these machines almost twenty-four-seven. It was a good thing there was a shift schedule because otherwise the buggers would be dropping like flies!

A few of the wizards in front of the machine immediately jumped to attention when they saw the three Generals, saluting them, a few faster than the others. Clearly it was obvious who had caffeine of late and who didn't.

One began to recite almost automatically. "Nothing yet, General! But we have heard that our friends in Spain and Portugal have our Lord's treasures hidden in a safe and secure place, and our friends in Albania have confirmed the same-"

"Still nothing of our agents in England?" Vida asked gently.

"No, ma'am," another of the communications wizards tried to stifle a yawn but failed. "Nothing."

"I see," Queenie purred. "I think you boys need to get some sleep."

"But-"

Those jovial eyes told cold in an instant. "That's an order!"

The wizards shrunk back into their chairs and conjured up some blankets and pillows. "Yes, ma'am," they chorused meekly as the three Generals left.

"Something is wrong," Credence stated, a deep frown marring his countenance, his jaw clenched. "The Tracker is a ruthless operator who always gets his prey. He should have them by now!"

Queenie then remembered the vision she saw in Gellert's head. "You are right, my friend," she agreed. "The Tracker has failed, but not through any fault of his own."

"Oh, have you got the Sight now too, Queenie?" Vida sneered.

"No, but Gellert has," Queenie smirked. Vida's cheeks flushed red. "The Tracker could be stopped by four winged beings. I have a feeling, whoever or whatever they are, they have succeeded. I wouldn't be surprised if we never get a message from our agents."

"You think they killed them?" Credence nodded. It would be the most logical thing to do, to make sure there would be no liabilities.

"It is highly possible," Queenie shrugged elegantly. "Either way, Gellert's latest scheme has failed and we all know what will happen when he finds out."

Vida groaned. "I don't want to wear apple green again!"

"Excuse you?! You are not the one having to endure humiliating outfit after humiliating outfit!" Credence exploded. "Today it is a pumpkin, yesterday it was a giant bat – I dread to think what I will have to endure next."

"Look at the bright side – you will likely have to dress as a snowman for Yule," Queenie grinned.

"Kill me now," Credence grumbled.

"Oh come on, Credence! Everyone loves snowmen," Vida nudged her friend gently.

"I don't."

"No, you just don't like your outfits," Queenie contradicted easily. "Who knows? Maybe you will have more luck finding a date for Yule while dressed as a snowman."

"She'd have to be bloody blind!" Credence spluttered.

"Or have a good sense of humour!" Vida giggled.

It was at this point the three of them felt the Sonorous Charm activate and they braced themselves. "HAVE THEY BEEN IN CONTACT YET? AND I HEARD SOMEONE HAS BEEN SMUGGLING COFFEE INTO THE CASTLE! WHERE IS MY COFFEE? VIDA, QUEENIE – WHERE IS MY COFFEE?! THAT IS NOT FAIR!"

"Bloody hell," the girls muttered in unison.

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

"So, you survived! I take it that the Tracker has been dealt with?" Harry was slightly concerned about how flippant Druella sounded.

The girls had all awoken at around six-thirty, practically simultaneously. Harry had noticed that there was quiet relief on her friends' faces and had to laugh to herself at the judgemental looks from Seraphina and Sigyn. The moment that she had seen her friend sit up and stretch, Druella had decided to make the situation a bit more light-hearted.

"Yes, he has been dealt with," the Traveller confirmed as she began her daily routine.

"What about the agents?" Walburga wanted to know.

"One of them is dead and the other two have had their memories modified," Harry informed her as though she was relaying the weather report for the day.

Ygraine nodded to herself as she too got out of bed. "Good. Let's hope it is sufficient enough to delay Grindelwald's hunt for you further."

Harry smiled to herself as she finished packing her bag for the day. "I take it that means you have picked up on the clue I left you."

"We did," Ophelia confirmed, looking slightly conflicted, as she fed Sigyn her breakfast. "The Deathly Hallows – they actually exist?"

The Lady Regnant nodded poignantly. "They exist, just not in the way the story tells it. They weren't gifts exactly; Death was not responsible for creating the Elder Wand. Antioch asked for components to create the most powerful wand he could make, not for the wand itself."

"Oh my," Walburga shook her head as she headed to the bathroom to escape into the shower.

"You don't happen to know where the Hallows are, do you?" Ygraine looked up from rummaging through her trunk for a clean uniform set.

It was safe to say that Druella, Ophelia and Ygraine all gulped when they noticed a knowing smirk etch itself onto Harry's face.

"Oh boy," was all Druella could comment.

"Of course you know where they are. What a stupid question," Ygraine sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"But becoming Master or Mistress of Death … that is also real?" Ophelia questioned, her gaze fixed unblinkingly on Harry.

The current Mistress of Death chuckled to herself. "Yes."

"Why are we even surprised at this point?" Druella stuffed her books into her bag, shaking her head. "I mean, for all we know there is actually a creature living in Loch Ness!"

"But it isn't as simple as owning the Hallows, not always," Harry admitted as Walburga came out of the shower and Ophelia dived in, causing Ygraine to scowl. "There are rules and factors that can change the status of a Master or Mistress of Death on a dime. Especially if they have been Marked by Death."

"Marked by Death?" Walburga repeated with a frown. "In what way?"

"That's a little less clear," Harry opted to go for a white lie here. She wasn't ready to confess the full truth just yet. "But it usually mean someone who has survived dying."

"How can someone survive death? It's impossible," Ygraine frowned thoughtfully.

"Not entirely. Harry did, remember?" Druella pointed out.

Harry decided it was best to hold her tongue at this point. Athenaïs, who was stretching in her alcove, gave her a pointed look. Fortunately the girls didn't press the matter further and they spent the rest of their time getting ready in almost complete silence. It did make Orion, when they eventually met up with the boys, sound louder than normal, causing all five of the girls to wish they had earplugs of some note. Almost mercifully, Altair had put a Silencing Charm on the Black Heir, much to the latter's indignation.

"So, I take it the threat has been removed?" Altair asked with a small grin, holding out his arm gallantly. She rolled her eyes fondly at his antics.

"Yep," Harry responded happily, popping the 'p' as she took his arm and they set off to breakfast.

"Well, you're not injured at least," Arcturus stated with relief. "Orion, Altair, Avery and Heron were worried that you might come back with something broken or another bruise or another scar."

The four boys in question glared at him for tattling on them.

"It's the first time I actually came out of a fight without a scratch," Harry replied, looking rather pleased with herself.

"You're bloody scary sometimes," Mulciber shook his head at her.

"Thank you!" Harry preened.

"You have the fifth years again for History," Tom decided to mercifully move the subject on to something that was a little more mundane, just in case the group would get eavesdroppers of some note. "What are you going to be covering with them?"

"The International Statute of Secrecy, the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards and Goblin rebellions," Harry answered as they headed towards the Gryffindor table. "I decided that with the mocks fast approaching we can't dawdle and those three are again quite important. I was thinking of maybe planning one extra weekend session so I can cover the Soap Blizzard of 1378 and International Warlock Convention of 1289."

"I almost pity the poor midgets," Altair shook his head as the group sat down, Heron taking his usual seat between Septimus and Artemis, both who waved cheerily at the group of Slytherins – they had their mouths full so didn't make a verbal greeting.

"Well, Harry isn't going to take it easy on us either," Loreley, who had overheard the last bit of the conversation, pointed out.

"Touché," Altair was forced to agree.

"Well, this Revision Club is working," Octavius piped up after finishing his apple. "I got back one of my Care of Magical Creatures essays yesterday – I got an EE! I never get an EE for Care! Redferne said he had to count my marks twice to make sure he gave me the correct mark!"

Ophelia lip up at this and would have likely hugged Octavius in pure glee had she not been a Rowle and thus more capable of controlling her emotions.

"Minnie's a genius with teaching too! Professor Dumbledore's latest homework assignment was a piece of cake because of her," Septimus added, grinning at Minerva, who rolled her eyes and tried to keep a satisfied smile from appearing on her face as she spread some more chocolate spread on her toast.

"Have you heard anything from your History students yet?" Minerva asked Harry curiously.

The Traveller shook her head as she poured herself another cup of coffee. "Nope, nothing. I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing, though," she laughed nervously.

"I think no news is still potential good news," Tom tried to reassure her as he finished peeling his pear. "I think you should wait until your History lesson; maybe they will tell you then."

"Hopefully," Harry sighed. She perked up. "Altair, how are you and Percy doing with your Herbology students?"

Altair lit up. "I can't believe I neglected to tell you this. Percy told me that our fifth years recently managed to all get As and above for their homework and their handling of the Chinese Chomping Cabbages was apparently so good that Griffith was practically skipping after his class, though I don't see why that is notable since he does that anyway!"

"I am just hoping our Ancient Runes students do not mess up too badly in front of Grandfather," Orion admitted, biting his lip nervously, poking his fruit salad with his fork. "Otherwise Heron and I will have to think of a different strategy and we have only a week and a bit to sort them out!"

"I am sure it will be fine, dear," Walburga responded soothingly as she poured him some more pumpkin juice. "Just keep your mind clear and all will be well."

Harry grinned as Orion flushed and then she turned her gaze to Tom, who met hers almost instantly. "Have you heard anything from your fifth years?"

"No, but I highly suspect they may be terrified to divulge their results," Tom actually looked a little sheepish. "I may have been rather strict with them the last time."

"But they enjoyed it, though," Artemis pointed out. "I am pretty sure if it all went down hill Professor Merrythought would not be looking as happy as she is at present."

Multiple eyes drifted towards the staff table. Professor Merrythought was going through some essays, keeping a stern countenance that now and again saw a ghost of a smile appear as she went through them.

"We don't even know if they're the fifth-year essays," Avery remarked.

"True. Call it intuition," Artemis smirked.

"How is Quidditch practise going, by the way?" Mulciber wanted to know with a smirk. Harry immediately saw Malfoy, Tom, Minerva, Walburga, Ophelia and Ygraine lose interest in the conversation.

"Urgh, do not get me started!" the Potter heiress sighed dramatically. "Wood is putting us through the ringer; we are lucky if we even get half our homework done in one evening. I am bloody glad I don't have to write a dissertation or something because that would just end me right then and there. We have practise again after dinner and then at lunch Wednesday and then early morning and late evening Thursday. At this point, I can't wait for the match to be over."

"Here, here," the Weasleys agreed, looking already exhausted at the prospect of having to get up on a broom!

"Don't worry. Turpin is very much looking forward to victory," Loreley teased, earning herself multiple glares from the Lions, which she countered with a serene smile.

"You shouldn't have said that, Malfoy," Dolohov chuckled.

"Wait, I just remembered something – we have Transfigurations first! Has Dumbledore gotten rid of his biome yet?" Walburga wanted to know, suddenly looking extremely concerned.

"I heard the rest of the biomes were cleared last evening, so we should be fine," Ignatius responded, grinning at Harry, who shot him a mock-scowl in return.

"Pity. I was looking forward to sitting amongst the corals," Orion sighed, sounding extremely disappointed.

"You're the only one in that case, Black," Mulciber informed, shaking his head.

Harry had quietly prepared herself for another tedious and rather easy lesson, but Dumbledore had decided it was time to throw his N.E.W.T students into the realm of Human Transfigurations. She had gotten flashbacks from her sixth year at that point and the Human Transfigurations lesson done by Minerva. Harry could clearly remember the utter shame she felt at being able to turn only one of her eyebrows yellow and thus was forced to walk around with mismatching eyebrows the whole day!

The Traveller quietly hoped that her Mistress of Death powers would help her avoid that fate again – she would never live it down with Tom, Altair and the Knights. Mulciber, Dolohov and Avery would then be utterly unbearable to deal with. They were already smug at the fact they pranked her on Samhain and lived to tell the tale.

Unfortunately, Dumbledore, who was dressed today in white robes with embroidered pink flowers, had indeed prepared almost the exact same lesson as Minerva had.

"Human Transfigurations is possibly one of the most difficult and dangerous branches of the subject," Dumbledore stated jovially as the students sat in front of the mirrors on their desks. "What Metamorphmagi can do innately, we have to learn, I'm afraid. But I implore you to be very careful, for if executed poorly there is a chance one may get stuck in one's transfigured form."

The class at least escaped another debate between Tom and Dumbledore, much to everyone's relief. Minerva took the lead for Harry, Artemis and Orion, skilfully turning her hair bright blonde and make it more curly with a non-verbal, wandless Crinus Muto. She looked rather angelic and less intimidating, which made Harry giggle to herself.

Artemis flinched slightly at Minerva's appearance, which her friends noticed immediately. Minerva quickly undid her transformation. "Sorry, Arty."

"It's OK," Artemis squeaked meekly.

Harry frowned and placed a careful, soothing hand on her shoulder. Artemis gave her a grateful smile.

"Minerva looked like the vampire in the wedding dress," Orion noted out loud. "Your Boggart."

Artemis nodded despondently.

"Who was she?" Orion asked.

"Orion!" Harry hissed. "That's none of our business!"

"It is Potter family business," Minerva added, shaking her head. "Stay out of it!"

"No, no, it's fine. I … think I need to talk about it," Artemis took a fortifying breath. "Believe it or not, she's … my father's third wife. My stepmother to be exact."

Harry, Minerva and Orion gaped unabashedly. Artemis flushed. "I have two older half-sisters from my father's first marriage. Dragon pox had claimed his wife's life. My own mother died due to childbed fever after my own birth. Then when I was five, Father brought home Eleanor; she was pretty. I thought she was some kind of fairy. When they announced they would marry, I was happy. The rest of the family, not so much. Hecuba and Electra were not enthusiastic, and I only realised why when I accidentally walked in on my future stepmother having a Bridezilla meltdown. She turned to me, fangs out and in her wedding dress and only calmed down when I started to bawl my eyes out. It was terrifying!"

"Merlin's beard," Harry shook her head in disbelief. "Your stepmother's a vampire!"

"Half-vampire, not that many people know. I mean, we don't actively try to hide it but it isn't something we usually raise early in conversations," Artemis corrected, looking slightly ashamed of herself. "I know she meant no harm but I still can't look her in the eye even after all these years."

"Wow," Orion half laughed. "We Blacks have never had a half-vampire in the family before!"

"Yes, and that is about the only thing your family hasn't yet married into your line," Minerva shook her head at him. "OK, let's get back to work. Harry, you first. Pick something about yourself to transfigure."

Harry grumbled internally and turned to look at her reflection. She had failed the last time with her eyebrows, maybe she should try something different this time? Or maybe, she should try her own voice? Harry always had a knack for memorising people's voices.

The Traveller smirked to herself and then closed her eyes as she played the Scottish lilt of Minerva in her head. When she was certain she had it down, Harry incanted the spell in her mind.

"This is so completely pointless," Harry was delighted – and Minerva horrified – to hear that her voice was no longer her own and indeed mimicked her friend's almost perfectly.

Unfortunately, Dumbledore had heard Harry and, to Minerva's shock, the Head of Gryffindor turned to his favourite with a look of disappointment. "Miss McGonagall, I know you are very skilled in this subject but that is no excuse for you to besmirch the lesson."

Minerva was now whiter than snow. "Sir, I swear to Avalon, I didn't say that!"

Dumbledore frowned and then he turned to Harry Evans, who was smiling a little too angelically for his liking. He observed her over his half-moon spectacles. "Miss Evans?"

"Yes, sir, what is it?" Harry responded in Minerva's voice.

The Transfigurations professor lit up in an instant. "Oh, well done, Miss Evans! Very, very good. A vocal transformation! It shouldn't take me by surprise, considering your impressive vocal range. Can you transform your voice to another's? A male voice, perhaps?"

Harry frowned and then looked back to see which target she'd pick next. Tom, Altair, Arcturus and the Knights were observing the proceedings in front of them with great interest. Harry closed her eyes as she ran Altair's sweet, jovial, posh tones through her mind and incanted the spell as she turned back to Dumbledore.

"You mean like this, sir? I do not make a habit of mimicking boys' voices, so I understand if it sounds rather awkward."

Altair blanched as he heard his voice coming out of Harry's mouth, Arcturus and several others chuckling at his shock. Dumbledore lit up further. "Excellent work, Miss Evans. Keep it up! Five points to Slytherin."

Harry quickly broke the spell and sang Lavender's Blue under her breath to make sure her voice had returned to normal.

"That was freaky," Orion commented as he focused on his own reflection and lit up. "Oooo, it worked!"

His spell had indeed worked, considering the fact his dark curls were now a dark blue colour. The Black Heir was so happy with his new hair colour, the girls couldn't help but giggle at his enthusiasm.

Artemis herself managed to turn her hair as red as the locks of Septimus and Octavius Weasley and made it look slightly shorter, so much so it reminded Harry of a young Ginny. Septimus and Octavius, once they had noticed, immediately took to calling Artemis their little sister, much to the quiet irritation of Heron.

As for Harry, she decided to try and turn her eyes into the same shade as Artemis' and made her hair slightly lighter. This freaked a lot of people out, especially when Artemis turned her eyes into Harry's shade of green and made her hair turn raven in colour, in a rather unsettling switcheroo of some kind.

"Merlin, this is creepy," Mulciber commented, shaking his head at them as he came closer just to study the girls out of morbid curiosity. "The only indication that Evans is still Evans is that scar on her forehead!"

Harry and Artemis, on the other hand, were giggling madly, clearly enjoying themselves. They especially split their sides laughing when Dolohov had turned one of his eyes grey and the other green and added a nice lilac colour to his hair. The Knight scowled at his reflection as he undid his failed attempts.

Harry undid the transformations and watched Altair turn his eyes a beautiful purple grape colour, which suited him very well, with Arcturus turning his own hair a bright emerald colour that almost matched his eyes, causing Harry to chuckle. She felt especially vindicated when Avery only managed to turn one of his eyebrows a bright orange colour and couldn't undo the transformation, his friends laughing at his expense. At least it wasn't her this time!

She was glad for some peace and quiet in the library with her friends, all working on homework, their revisions, marking and dissertation in the cases of Altair and Heron. Harry herself was occupied with sketching her friends and using the pencils Tom had gifted to her; she needed a break from her books, especially since she was still a little tired from the night before.

What took her by surprise was both Malfoy twins getting up after forty-five minutes and asking her if she would join them for a walk. The others had been just as surprised, even more so when Harry packed up her things and followed Abraxas and Loreley out of the library and onto the grounds. The November air was cold and biting, snow would not be unexpected should it start to fall, but it was almost exactly what Harry needed to wake up.

"What did you want to discuss?" Harry was the first to break the silence.

"The dice have been cast once more," Loreley stated. "They know about the Deathly Hallows."

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "But they don't know who I am."

"Not yet, but they're not stupid," Abraxas gave her a pointed look. "It will only be a matter of time before they figure it out and I don't need Lorri's powers to know that."

Harry gave him a strange look. "How are you taking this so well?"

"Because Lorri has told me everything about you, what my visions neglected to show me," was the answer that made the Traveller halt in her tracks and pale considerably. Abraxas gave her a reassuring smile. "I have known who you are and what you went through for some time now."

The Lady Regnant observed him carefully. "How much have you Seen?"

The Malfoy heir smiled weakly. "I know everything – from your dangerous trip through time with Hermione Granger to free your godfather, to the TriWizard Tournament to what the Ministry put you through two years ago to the moment you walked to your death and decided to redeem the very person who would have you dead. I even know about the secret crushes you had on Marcus Flint and Miles Bletchley; you really do have a type for Slytherins who pose a danger to you, don't you? If it is any consolation, my own grandson seemed to have one on you, not that you noticed. I was almost jealous on Nott's behalf!"

There was a cold, tense silence over the trio for a moment as the Traveller processed this information.

"And yet you keep your mouth shut," Harry shook her head. "Why?"

The Malfoy heir scoffed. "Do not compare me to that poor excuse of a grandson I had, my Lady! I may fear my own gifts but they are not the concern of anyone else outside my family. It was one of the reasons I took the potions in the first place."

Harry frowned at this. Abraxas continued. "What I struggle to reconcile is the fact you willingly befriended the parents of your old enemies and your godfather. That you didn't hurt us the moment you came face to face with us."

"I despised you but you never raised a wand against me," Harry pointed out. "You were dead, excuse me for being so blunt, before I could ever meet you. Walburga was just an annoying portrait and I knew nothing about Orion or the others except what Sirius told me. Besides, Orion is easy to like! Druella was so natural that I quickly stopped seeing her as Bellatrix Lestrange's mother."

"Tom did hurt you. As did Nott, Mulciber, Dolohov and others," Abraxas pointed out. "Given everything our children did because of the way we likely brought them up, you had every right to hurt us … yet you chose us over your own friends. It still doesn't make sense to me."

Harry smiled at him. "I don't expect you to understand, Malfoy."

"I must say, I am rather thankful you did not feel tempted to turn me into a ferret today," Abraxas grinned as Harry and Loreley giggled.

"You are somehow less obnoxious than Draco was," Harry admitted to him. "Besides there is only one Ferret Malfoy in my book and it isn't you, I'm afraid to say, Dino Malfoy."

Abraxas spluttered, causing Loreley to split her sides. "Dino Malfoy?!"

"What? I think it fits: you have a dinosaur as your Patronus and you have some very antiquated ideas!" Harry quipped, dodging a swat that Abraxas had aimed for the back of her head.

"There is something else – your Familiar may be up to something," Loreley informed Harry once she had recovered the ability to breathe, as the trio began making their way towards the greenhouses. "Your Gargouille has gotten a healthy suspicion of humans and well, spied on interim Professor Black last night-"

"She what?!" Harry blanched. Her eyes darkened in an instant. "I will have a stern word with her this evening!"

Loreley grinned. "She overheard something and well, it seems that she is more determined than ever to … encourage Nott and a second party to … get a move on with asking you for a courtship."

Abraxas snorted. "About bloody time!"

Harry spluttered at this, turning beetroot in the face. "How did you-"

"Sacrum Vinculum? Oh please, Lady Magick could not have been more obvious," Loreley responded dismissively.

"I have to say that I am rather looking forward to telling the story about how the Lady Regnant of House Peverell and her Consorts were thrown together into an official courting because of an interfering Gargouille!" Abraxas laughed.

"Not if I can help it!" Harry grumbled. "Athenaïs will keep her nose out of it."

"Good luck with that," the Sighted twins chorused.

Harry huffed. "Is there anything else I need to be made aware of?"

Abraxas and Loreley exchanged a look. "The Dark One's weapon is failing him," Loreley responded mystically. "It knows its true Mistress is here … it is getting annoyed at its current owner. Apparently he complains a lot about tea and cookies."

"Tea and cookies …? What?" Harry's countenance turned into one of pure confusion.

"Don't ask," Abraxas advised. "I already did and I didn't get a straight answer."

But the coin did drop in Harry's head as to why Grindelwald had been so stupidly desperate as to summon the Tracker of Souls to get what he wanted.

"So, the Wand is failing Grindelwald," the Traveller mused to herself. "It would explain his increased desperation to try and find my family."

"So, Heron was correct yesterday; you know where the Hallows are," the Malfoy heir shook his head.

Harry chuckled nervously and awkwardly. "Well … yeah, kind of."

Loreley smirked at this. Abraxas pinched the bridge of his nose. "Of course you do …"

"What? I do remember where all of the Hallows are in this time period, you know," Harry sniffed. "I am not completely incompetent anymore."

"You weren't entirely incompetent, ever," Abraxas responded easily. "You were just naïve."

Harry barked out a laugh. "I would never in a million years would have thought I would get half-complimented by Abraxas bloody Malfoy!"

Loreley laughed too while Abraxas rolled his eyes.

He did soon have to go back to the castle to attend Divination while Loreley and Harry were the first to arrive at Greenhouse Four, much to the delight of Professor Griffith who immediately roped in their help in setting up for the rest of the class. They would be studying Swamp pink, Hart's tongue fern, and White Willow.

Altair will be happy to know he won't be attacked today, Harry grinned to herself.

Loreley and Harry had placed the last of the White Willow on the tables when Altair, Heron and the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws came pouring into the greenhouse.

"Everything all right, Harry?" Altair asked as they put their bags at Harry and Loreley's table.

"Yeah. The Malfoys were just updating me about you guys taking up the clue I left yesterday and informed me that my own familiar may be up to something," Harry sighed, shaking her head fondly.

"Well, it's the old saying: like witch, like familiar," Altair grinned cheekily.

Harry snorted, wishing that she could refute the statement.

Professor Griffith clapped his hands as everyone took their seats. "Today, we will be looking at some interesting specimens. They are some more potent ingredients of a few more advanced potions in our magical arsenal as well as potential weapons in their own right, so today should be interesting! So, let's not dilly-dally; who can tell me a little bit about Swamp pink?"

To his shock and delight, almost every hand in the room went up. It seemed that the Revision Club was already paying off! Professor Griffith was quietly excited about this thought as he scanned the class.

"Yes, Mr. Lestrange?" he decided to call on one of his less vocal students.

"Swamp pink can be used as a distraction to escape danger, and in theory can be used as a substitute for a Portkey if the Herbologist is skilled enough and can indicate that Gillyweed is growing in the same waters as they are often found growing near to each other," Heron responded.

"Very good, five points to Slytherin!" Professor Griffith grinned. "What about Hart's tongue fern? Yes, Miss Abbott?"

"It is the main ingredient in Veritaserum and its natural oil can make anyone spill their deepest, darkest secret," one of the Hufflepuffs answered easily. "It can be found growing in the Forbidden Forest since it needs heavily shaded, humid forests."

"Excellent! Five points to Hufflepuff. Finally, White Willow?"

Less hands were up, but Harry, Altair, Loreley and Heron's hands were once more up in the air. The Head of Hufflepuff called on a member of their group once more. "Yes, Miss Evans?"

"White Willow is one of the primary ingredients in numbing potions, especially the potions for potions that combat the effects of the Cruciatus Curse and the Imperius Curse," Harry replied easily. "It has a different method of preparation for each one. For Cruciatus it needs to be boiled without being cut or diced while for the Imperius Curse it needs to be sliced and diced and only then boiled."

The eccentric man's eyes shone. "Correct! Another five points to Slytherin! So, now we have the basics established, let us have a look at how one takes proper care of these important flora."

To Harry's surprise, only half of the class was spent in the greenhouse, up close with the plants. The other half was actually spent outside, following Griffith into the Forbidden Forest in an attempt to try and find some wild Hart's tongue fern, much to the shock of the class. Fortunately they didn't need to go too far – there were a decent amount of them growing near the Thestral pasture. They were split up into pairs to study the plants, so as not to spook the skeletal horses. Heron immediately went with Loreley, leaving Altair with Harry.

"Druella wants to continue Occlumency practise this Saturday," he stated lowly to her as Harry began feeling the soil around their plant.

"Good," Harry smiled as she began noting down the soil composition around the fern. "I haven't really been practising all that much."

Altair smiled back weakly. He seemed to be battling internally with something before he finally spoke again. "Harry, I know this is none of my business, but do you know where the Hallows are?"

Harry's verdant orbs met the dark ones of Altair, each holding each other unblinkingly. Her instincts were telling her to lie, but the Traveller found that she simply could no longer lie to Altair, at least not fully.

"Yes," she whispered.

The Nott heir nodded. "OK."

Harry smirked slightly, blinking three times in surprise. "That's it? OK? Not planning on feeding me Hart's tongue fern sap, are you, for information later?" she teased.

Altair looked at her seriously. "Never," he put more conviction behind that declaration than Harry had ever thought. It sent a small shiver down her spine.

The Traveller recovered quickly and regaled Altair with the story behind Artemis' Boggart. The Nott heir was an amazing audience, knowing exactly at which parts to react to. Once she had finished, Altair laughed, half with mirth and half with something else. "No wonder people rarely see Eleanor Potter. At least it wasn't the Blacks with a Gothic Horror secret this time!"

"Much to Orion's disappointment," Harry chuckled as she stood up to observe the other flora around the fern.

"Oh please! That family is already too interesting for its own good," Altair scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Indeed," Harry agreed as she knelt down. She had spotted something out of the corner of her eye in some prickle bushes. She then grinned. "Altair, look! A baby fern!"

Altair immediately got up to come over and have a look. For a second, though, Harry forgot the baby fern was being protected by a thorny guardian and when she tried to lift a part of the bush away from it, she was met with a sharp prick to her right hand index finger, making her yelp and jump back.

"Bugger!" she cursed, putting her finger in her mouth.

"Harry, are you OK?" Altair frowned with concern.

"Yeah," she half laughed. "Just me being an idiot. I forgot the bush has thorns."

She inspected her finger. The thorn had made a decent enough wound, considering the spot of blood. Altair, as soon as he saw it, took her hand in his and waved his wand over the wound, muttering a spell. Harry watched with a smile as the wound closed and faded.

"Thanks," she grinned at him.

Altair flushed. "I asked War for a book on Healing Magic. Just in case; you never know."

"Well, it worked very well," Harry informed him, desperately trying to ignore the pounding of her heart inside her rib cage. She reluctantly took back her hand.

Professor Griffith's arrival was fortuitous. "Ah, Miss Evans, Mr. Nott, how are you two faring? Oh my! You found a youngling! Well done, you two. They are quite difficult to find for obvious reasons. And it is under a blackthorn bush – how unique!"

Both of his students were as red as strawberries as they joined their teacher again.

Harry was very glad to be teaching that day as it gave her a distraction for her annoying feelings and offered her an escape from the knowing looks of Loreley, Heron and several others. She spent a decent amount of time checking her Runes and sigils again and again until her students arrived.

Her students didn't seem to note her anxiety, or if they did, they did her the courtesy of ignoring it. War and several fifth-year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs informed Harry that they got As and EEs on their recent homework from Binns. The Ravenclaws told her that Harry's study methods have been severely reducing the amount of time they needed to spend on History and a few Gryffindors begrudgingly admitted they too had been starting to pass in their homework assignments. Trying to capitalise on their good mood, Harry decided to hand out their marked practise papers first.

There were a lot of happy and relieved students, but there were an equal amount of disappointed students. Corvus Yaxley was amongst this group, surprisingly. He did seem to cheer up when Harry told him if he could get better time management and babbled less in his last essay, he would likely have perhaps also crossed narrowly into EE territory. On the whole, though, the fifth years seemed to become even more determined now that they saw that, yes, they needed more work but they were on the right track.

Considering the political environment they were in, the fifteen-year-olds actually paid close attention to the part of their lesson on the International Statute of Secrecy. The Room had once more provided the class with documents pertinent to the subject from different times and Harry had put several important points on the blackboard.

"The major factor for the necessity of the International Statute of Secrecy was of course the witch hunts," Harry paced around her class. "There were persecutions, Muggles who wished to use our magic for their own ends and there were Muggles falsely accused of being witches. So, the newly formed Ministry of Magic attempted to liaise with the Monarchs of the time King William III and Queen Mary II to get wizards protected under Muggle law. However, given the Protestant faith both Monarchs held, they refused. This could be cited as the last straw for our kind to move ever closer to secrecy. But of course as with every debate, there is a side for it and a side against it. Who were the most prominent people of the time for it?"

"Oh, Ralston Potter," Yaxley looked very pleased with himself at the fact he came onto an answer so quickly.

Harry grinned. "Correct, Mr. Yaxley. Do you also know why he was in favour of the Statute?"

"Because it allowed our kind to go about our business without disturbing the Muggles all too much, which in his words 'was the best solution for all involved'," Yaxley responded, a frown on his face as he rummaged through his memories. "He was also trying to mitigate the more extremist views of those who wanted war with the Muggles."

"Very good," Harry nodded. "Can someone name a prominent person who was against the Statute?"

"Ironically enough, Armand Malfoy V," War replied with a smile. "The Malfoys were very reluctant to give up their connections to Muggle royalty and nobility. They had been in close contact with the English throne since 1066 and Lucius Malfoy I once aspired to win the hand of Queen Elizabeth I. They were very reluctant to give up those connections but eventually did cut off their ties with prominent Muggle families in 1692 when the Statute became enforceable."

Harry nodded. "Excellent work, as always. Does anyone else know someone who was against it?"

"If rumours are to be believed, your ancestors were," Smith spoke up for the first time. "John and Matilda Peverell, both of them descendants of Thomas Peverell and the first Peverells who set foot into the Wizengamot. They were against the Statute of Secrecy because they found it important to be able to keep an eye on Muggle affairs from within Muggle institutions, much like their forefathers believed. The Peverells were also trying to create another line of communication between the Ministry, King William and Queen Mary and they feared the Statute would ruin magical relations with the governing Muggles forever."

Harry smiled sadly and all she could do was nod. "Good. Bearing this in mind, we now move onto the Clauses."

This part was done with the use of flashcards with Harry sporadically testing her students.

"Clause 15!"

"When mingling with Muggles, wizards and witches will adopt an entirely Muggle standard of dress, which will conform as closely as possible to the fashion of the day. Clothing must be appropriate to the climate, the geographical region, and the occasion. Nothing self-altering or adjusting is to be worn in front of Muggles!"

"Clause 20!"

"Regarding Muggle sports, under no circumstance shall a witch or wizard participate in case of accidental magic due to high emotions. However, for competitions and tournaments, witches and wizards are permitted to pick a side to support."

"Clause 30!"

"All familiars in a Muggle community must wear a Glamour at all times if they are not an owl, a cat, a dog, a falcon, a hawk, or a mouse. Familiars are permitted to go out, but only at the times where the rest of their brethren are seen outside."

"Clause 100!"

The class were not caught out by this. "There is no Clause 100!"

Harry laughed at this point. "Clause 73!"

"Each wizarding governing body will be responsible for the concealment, care and control of all magical beasts, beings, and spirits dwelling within its territory's borders. Should any such creature cause harm to, or draw the notice of, the Muggle community, that nation's wizarding governing body will be subject to discipline by the International Confederation of Wizards."

"Very good! What was the most recent infraction of Clause 73?"

"The Ilfracombe Incident," a Gryffindor piped up. "In 1932, a rogue Welsh Green descended on Muggle beach-goers at Ilfracombe. The Toke family happened to be there as well and thwarted the attack. They also modified all the Muggles' memories, ensuring that our world remained secret. They were given the Order of Merlin, First Class, for it."

"Except a few of the Muggles seemed to be immune to the Memory Charm used," Yaxley pointed out. "One is still being monitored, 'Dodgy' Dirk they call him."

Harry grinned, giving her students a thumb's up.

She moved quickly onto the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards. This was possibly one of the easiest subjects she had to cover because the Room provided the class with some manuscripts and tomes concerning the Assembly while Harry went over the function of the Assembly. The audio students were taking notes, while the visual and active studiers copied the images in the manuscripts or made their own drawings.

Finally, she turned her attention to three of the most well-known rebellions: the 1752 rebellion that saw three Ministers in one year, the late 18th century rebellion that Urg the Unclean joined, and the 1895 rebellion led by Ranrok. Here she made use of her simulations to introduce the main players and the most important battles of each rebellion. The 1752 rebellion and the rebellion of 1895 were the favourites, especially because of the werewolf alliance during the former and the fact Ranrok had made an alliance with the leader of renegade Dark wizards called Victor Rookwood, despite hating wizards. Ranrok's obsession with using the strange magic belonging to a fifth year transfer student was something that resonated with them even after the lesson had finished and Harry had set them another practise exam paper as homework.

"Imagine being forced to use the magic of the very people you hate to try and attain what you want," she heard War scoff. "That must have been really embarrassing for Ranrok."

"I wonder what kind of magic he was so desperate to get his hands on," Yaxley mused. "It must have been something rather extraordinary."

"I didn't even know Hogwarts had a transfer student before Evans came along," Smith sneered.

It was safe to say, Harry could not wait to have dinner and have a quiet evening. She really didn't need any more awkward questions that she also would like the answers to. But it was comforting to know that there had been another at Hogwarts who had been a stranger and was hunted for something they were born with.

Quietly, Harry hoped that this person's name wasn't Peverell or Potter, for once.

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Rollo had finished his third meeting with Miles, Oscar, Katerina and Satoshi; a certain level of normalcy had slowly crept back into his life and for that he was eternally grateful. It made his job as double agent a whole more easier. He had also kept Grindelwald updated about the meeting Thursday; the new batch of photographic evidence of his people being alive had arrived the day before Samhain. King Ragnok and Griphook had looked suitably pale when they saw Rollo had not been kidding about the manner in which the photos had been taken of them.

By the time it came for Rollo to go back to his apartment and make some dinner, the Head Cursebreaker had done all his paper work, was throwing on his cloak, classical music playing on the gramophone he had not used in months, and making ready to depart the office, with his two guards following him all the way, as usual.

Then, the telegram machine started whirring ominously and made his heart sink and his lungs withhold some of his oxygen.

No, no, no, no, no, please, not more orders or update requests about that damn Silver Dragon, Rollo prayed to himself.

He walked mechanically towards the machine, his heart pounding faster than a hummingbird's. The double agent watched the words print onto the paper and then ripped out the message once it was finished.

Request that the Sleeping Ones get out of bed. Request update about their homework. Use the hawk.

Rollo frowned to himself. He had not been informed that sleeper agents had been involved in Grindelwald's latest scheme. Last he heard, the Dark Lord had sent men after the people the Resistance had sent to try and find the Flamels. Apparently, that had only been half of the story.

Whatever these sleeper agents were meant to do, it wasn't good, Rollo knew that for certain.

Fatigued with Grindelwald's nonsense, Rollo decided it was best to deal with this nonsense in the morning, once had had eaten and gotten a good night's sleep, leaving the telegram in his handler's office before heading out to his apartment. What he did not expect, was that he would bump into Thomas and Henry Burke, and Melanie Rollins on the way, all three looking positively knackered themselves.

Henry and Melanie did not see him as they went into their brother's shop but Thomas did and gave him a cheery wave. "Evening, Rollo! Fine night, isn't it?"

"I suppose," Rollo found himself smiling, regardless of the fact that he was famished to the point of almost irritation. "How are you, Mr. Burke? How is … Harry?"

"She's doing well. Mock exams are causing some stress and pressure, though, but she's handling it all like a champ," Thomas responded, looking reminiscent of a proud father. "The meeting this Thursday is also on her mind."

Rollo's eyes became soggy with guilt. "I am sorry about that. We don't have much of a choice-"

"You had a choice not to involve her," the bookseller cut across a little coolly.

"I wish that was true. I was against it, believe me," Rollo almost winced at how pathetically pleading he sounded. A Rowle does not plead or beg! "But all of our hands were tied."

Thomas hummed and regarded Rollo with a glance that made the double agent want to avert his eyes and look at his boots. "Would you like some company for dinner? Henry is making Italian tonight."

Rollo was taken aback by the offer and blinked a few times quite rapidly. "Certainly … I'd love to. Thank you."

"Don't mention it. You can tell your guards you won't be long."

Rollo gaped. "How did you-"

All Thomas Burke did was smile mischievously and wink at him. Somehow, Rollo knew instinctively that he did not want to know the answer about how the odd bookseller could see two disguised goblin guards.

Unbeknownst to Rollo and even Thanatos, at St. Mungo's, Ambrose and Bradley were talking in their sleep, saying the exact same thing over and over again. "The Wand's allegiance has changed … grudges will resurface … he's coming soon …"

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Whoop! It seems that yet another of Grindelwald's plans has been foiled and the mock exam stress and preparation is being amped up to the max by the students! With Harry's meeting with Gringotts coming up as well as another Quidditch match, we can only hope that the Dark Lord does not cause too much trouble for her again soon. Will her friends suss out her status as Mistress of Death or is there enough doubt in their minds? Knowing Harry's luck, it may be we need to cross our fingers!

Oh my gods I have been having a busy couple of days, you have no idea! It is almost as though the Moirai are testing me – considering I have a possible new job, I think that may be the case! But nothing can keep me away from my writing. Also, just to say - Wormtail's direct ancestor isn't the one who got sacrificed. He just reminded Harry of Wormtail.

For those of you who are interested, I am treating the game and story line of Hogwarts Legacy that is coming out this year as part of the canon, which means the game elements I am using from the trailers belong to their creators.

Orion: I am a little bit concerned what Athenaïs is planning though …

Grindelwald: She's probably going to bake nice chocolate cookies!

Harry: Erm, Gellert, that's you projecting!

Grindelwald: My dear, I had to suffer Digestives for too long. I am damaged beyond repair.

Harry and Orion: On that we are agreed!

Oh dear …

I will see you guys in the next one!

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