Review Responses:

Dragonic: Thank you for reviewing, and for your support. Your suggestion of a timeline is an interesting one, I'll think about using it. But even so, I'm hoping to make the story easy to follow, and give a clear indication of how long it's been for certain events to take place. If I'm unable to figure out a way to do so, I most likely will do the timeline. Once again, I thank you for your suggestion and hope to hear from you again.

Nataly S. Potter: Thank you for your review, and I'm sorry I took so long to update. Homework and projects are rather time-consuming, and I recently went to Catalina Island (California—boy was it a long ride there), and thus I only now am able to write. Hope you enjoy the story.

MinorMistake99: Lol, thank you, and I apologize for the lack of action. Hopefully it will come soon enough; thank you for your patience so far.

Dave the L's gal: Ah, you are most likely right concerning Tonks' age, but I didn't know her age, so I suppose she is older in this fic. My apologies for the confusion.

Chapter 9: The Advice of a Serpent

Harry was once again reading through his defense books when he fell asleep late (or in the early morning) the night of the wedding. As dawn broke, he was awoken by a beam of sunlight shining directly in his closed eyes. Nonetheless, the brightness was enough to make him wake with a slight groan. He leaned forward, wincing slightly as he felt the stiffness in his back and neck from sleeping in such an awkward position. Rubbing the knot in his shoulder, he set the book aside and went downstairs for breakfast. Remus was no where to be seen, Harry knew that he had been with Tonks after the wedding and they had been talking when Harry had bid good-bye to the guests and newly weds.

Pouring himself a bowl of cereal, Harry went through the process of fully waking up. After eating, he returned to his room, got a change of clothes and then took a shower; the cold water woke him up with a sharp yelp. He glared at the shower one last time before returning downstairs. I have to find out just where the Zotzion University is, and how I can get in to find what I need, he thought. Just then, the fireplace lit up, and a voice called, "Harry? Albus' portrait would like to speak with you for a moment."

Recognizing it as McGonagall's voice, Harry called, "I'm coming," and stepped into the green flames. He closed his eyes and mouth, tucking his elbows in as he was flown through the many fireplaces and grates that were the Floor Network. He appeared in the Headmistress' office and— to his distaste—found Diega Prince sitting in a chair, waiting. "I will be back momentarily," McGonagall told him, giving Diega a look that clearly said 'try anything and I will gladly hex you'. Diega did not miss the threat and merely smirked.

Harry gritted his teeth, nodding in acknowledgement to the Headmistress' remark, but did not take his eyes of the Serpentine Sect member. "Harry, I am glad you came." Said the portrait of Albus Dumbledore.

Harry forced himself to look at the Headmaster and sit down, in the chair farthest from Diega of course.

"I wanted to speak with you about the University I mentioned, along with the artifact we had located before my end."

"What about them Sir?" Harry asked, wondering how Dumbledore could talk so calmly about his own death.

"Diega will be able to help you with them."

Harry snapped into a rigid position in his chair. His jaw clenched tight. Trust her with that information? He would rather drink slime. "I can figure them out myself, Sir." He replied, straining to keep his voice calm and polite.

Diega smirked. "Gryffindor pride, it would seem my cousin was right about it."

Harry glared at her, his hands tightening on the arms of his chair. "Diega, if you would please conduct yourself in a proper manner," Dumbledore told her. The witch raised an eyebrow, but did not make any further comment. The former Headmaster looked back at Harry, who was surprised at the look in Dumbledore's eyes—it was one of slight annoyance. "Now, Harry, I am sure you are capable. However, sometimes it is best to let those who have more experience in the matter to assist you."

"I understand that Sir," Harry said, and then continued after hesitating for only a moment. "But to be frank, it's not a good idea to allow someone to help you if you don't trust them an inch." He finished his statement looking at Diega, who met his gaze with yet another smirk.

"Constant vigilance," she quoted, mocking both Mad-Eye and Harry at the same time.

Dumbledore looked at her again, quieting the witch, and then said to Harry. "I know trust is a problem during these dark times, however, it is the only thing that will allow us to succeed in overcoming the darkness."

Diega muttered something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like a sardonic: "We?" Dumbledore didn't appear to hear her, but Harry did and shot her a glare out of the corner of his eye.

"I still would prefer to do it on my own Sir, and if I do need help, I know plenty of people who will be able to help. Give Hermione a few days and she'll be an expert on the subject."

Dumbledore smiled, but replied, "Though I do not doubt Miss Granger's abilities, nor your own resourcefulness, I regret to say that time is limited, Harry, and we need every advantage in time that we can grasp on to. Please, Harry, allow Diega to offer her advice."

I'd as soon listen to the advice of a basilisk, Harry thought savagely, but forced himself to nod. Just because he listened to what her 'advice' didn't mean he had to follow it.

"Thank you, Harry. Diega, if you would."

The part-vampire absently ran her fingers along her wand as she thought. "Zotzion is a school of...shadowed education. Though it is less respectable than Durmstrang according to the Wizarding society," her tone made her opinion of that statement clear, "it is indeed regarded as one of magical learning that can be very advantageous to those who wish to learn of all aspects of 'Dark' magic. Gaining entrance is precarious; once you are in, you must complete a series of tests and numerous studies before you are permitted to egress. It is not a place for those of...delicate opinions and outlooks," she smirked slightly at Harry, causing him to tense once more in dislike. "Those who enter to study must have a plan of action, they must have determination, and most importantly, and understanding of trickery and cunning. Which, if I may add my personal opinion, you do require much development."

"I think I've got enough to get along, thanks." Harry replied through gritted teeth.

Diega smiled. "Of course you do. Now, Zotzion has a collection of staff that will make the ones here at Hogwarts seem..." She noticed the warning look Dumbledore gave her and changed words, "...to be much easier taskmasters."

"I'm not afraid of a challenge." Harry retorted.

She smirked, twirling her wand between her long, elegant fingers. "Naturally, you would say that."

"What do I have to do to get in?" he asked.

"I already told you."

"I mean the specifics."

"I thought you weren't afraid of a challenge, Mr. Potter."

"I'm not!" he snapped.

She raised a mocking eyebrow. "Then why ask for the 'specifics'? Surely finding your way is part of the challenge? Or do you believe you are not up to the task? If that is so, the Dark Lord does indeed have an easy foe, if you can even be called that."

"Diega!" Dumbledore's portrait said sharply. She did not look at him, but nor did she continue.

Harry's face was burning. If it hadn't been for her past and undeniable ability as a dueler, Harry would have cursed her with the worst hex he knew. "I'm not afraid of any challenges," he growled, "but neither am I so prideful as to refuse help. The only reason I'm listening to you right now is because of that. If you're so stuck-up that you could care less about my decision, which I don't doubt a bit, then by all means, shut up and we'll both be happy."

For a brief moment, Harry regretted his words when he saw the spark light up in Diega's eyes. They were smoking coals, dangerously close to going up inlethal flames. He thought he saw a sliver of red appear in them, but it must have been his imagination, for they vanished as she smirked at him. "Well Mr. Potter, perhaps you do have a slight potential, and because of that, I suppose I could give you the 'specifics'. However, there may be gaps in what I tell you, for it has been quite a while since I was initiated into Zotzion, and the Masters there may have changed the requirements."

She leaned back in her chair, a bored expression on her face as she explained. "You will have to undergo a series of tests that weigh your magical abilities, your intentions, and your current knowledge of the Dark Arts. You will be taught things you did not know existed; you will learn things you did not want to become aware of. You will not, however, be wasting your time. Zotzion is perhaps the one place where you can learn everything of horcruxes, but in order to do that, it will require a large amount of keen senses, many of which you could improve on.

"The Masters there shall not trust you, the epitome of good and light that you have come to be. You will have to work, Mr. Potter, work to gain their respect, grudgingly as it will come. They know of you, they know of your accomplishments, and they will goad, cheat, lie, and all those wonderful things that you would expect of someone from Slytherin house. Your limits of your capabilities for the Dark Arts will be reached, if not broken, and you will either leave much more knowledgeable in the Dark Arts, horcruxes, power, and understanding... or you will not leave at all. Is that clear, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded. "Perfectly."

She looked at Dumbledore's portrait, which nodded and she looked back at Harry. "What is the 'object' of which was spoken of?"

Harry's hand twitched; he did not want to share it with her. However, a look at Dumbledore forced him to reach into his pocket and draw out the false locket. He wordlessly handed it to Diega, feeling regret and mistrust well up inside him as her icy-cold hand brushed his. She examined it in silence for a moment before opening it and taking out the note. She smoothed the parchment, her eyes quickly taking in the words written in faded ink. Harry watched her reaction carefully. Her eyebrows rose in surprise and her gaze wavered in its aloof steadiness, but other than that, she showed no emotion. Finally, after several long, tense minutes, Harry prompted. "Well?"

Diega merely shook her hand, handing the locket and note back to Harry. "He was a fool to do such a thing."

"Who?" Dumbledore asked. "What do you mean?"

"The horcruxe is a fake, Sir." Harry informed him quietly. "It was destroyed by someone else and replaced with a fake."

The former Headmaster looked to be in a mix of surprise and relief. "But who was it? How long ago?" he queried, more to himself than to the two living beings.

"I would know that handwriting anywhere," Diega said, "He was a member of the Sect, but was turned over by our Lord for treachery." She smiled bitterly. "Of course, only after his... punishment." Harry shivered unconsciously, imagining the anger Voldemort must have directed at the unfortunate Serpentine Sect member. "I had wondered why he was punished and then sent to the Ministry,"Diega continued, "But now I understand; the Dark Lord must have found out. What a foolish decision..."

"But who was it?" Harry asked, trying to keep a hold on his annoyance with the wait.

She looked coolly at him. "Who other than my old friend, Regulus Black?"

(A/N: I apologize for following along with the common idea that it was Regulus who destroyed the horcruxe. I was actually the first in my family to think of him, but, alas, I am not the only one. I hope you enjoyed the chapter. – A.S. Leif)