Author's Note: I don't own anything Harry Potter related. It all belongs to JK Rowling.
Pronouns will follow character usage.
After calling for Sirius, Harry made a beeline for his room. He had a lot to think about, given his conversation with himself. Herself? Harry wasn't sure anymore.
"First, I need to figure out what I'm going to tell Hermione and Ron. I can't tell them everything, but they need to know some of what I just found out."
Harry was glad that Sirius had set aside an entire room, just for Harry. No more having to share with Ron, who's snoring alone could probably wake even the hardiest of sleepers. Apparently, it was the second largest in the house, too. A whole room, Harry's for as long as he wanted it. It was enough to give Harry a pause, memories of a cupboard flooding his mind, though only for a moment. 'Back to the task at hand, Hermione for a fact will interrogate me the second she sets eyes on me'
Thinking out loud for a moment, Harry ran a hand gingerly through his hair, a part of him twinging at the action. "Okay, she's a relative, fairly powerful, who's offered to train me in Occlumency properly. That should do it."
Getting up from his four-poster bed, Harry crossed the room, and opened his door, deciding to go looking for his two closest friends. What he hadn't expected, was for them to be about five feet from his door, both obviously on their way to his room.
"Ron, Hermione. Come on, I was about to go looking for you both anyway." Stepping aside, he gestured for them to enter his room.
"Mate, what exactly is going on?" inquired Ron, making his way rather brusquely through the door, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
Hermione, seemingly exasperated at Ron's antics, decided on a more casual entrance, and sat down in one of the chairs in the room, before looking at Harry. "Harry, what's happening? You said Sirius was in danger, then we find out he's not even there, then he shows up, and then Ms. Peverell shows up, quite literally out of nowhere. Who is she? How'd she get there? How'd Sirius know where we were? Wait, do you think we'll be expelled for leaving the grounds without permission?" Hermione seemed to have a near infinite supply of breath when it came to questions, but her last question knocked any wind out of her sails.
Closing the door, Harry chuckled. He loved moments like this. His only friends, being themselves, and showing their concern in their unique ways.
"Hermione, calm down. I'll tell you what I can. Though I hope you both will understand that some of what Isolt and I talked about is personal stuff that I promised to not reveal. To anyone."
Ron looked thoughtful, and Hermione deep in thought, both for a moment before Ron turned to Harry.
"Well, I'm not gonna go make you break any oaths, Harry." Ron shrugged.
"Harry, please." Hermione looked like she was going to explode if she didn't get answers. 'At least she doesn't seem to mind me having to keep some things private', Harry mused.
"Alright, alright. Here goes. Firstly, I don't think we're gonna get killed, or worse, expelled." The last word, he said whilst looking at Hermione, who looked sheepish, and both Harry and Ron burst out in lauighter. It took a few moments for them both to settle down, before Harry continued, "Isolt Peverell is a relative of mine, distantly, but we are family. I can't explain where's she been, but circumstances out of her control prevented her from coming sooner. She seems really gifted in magic; you all saw how she went up against all those Death Eaters herself. For all I know, maybe she knew where I was through magic. As for Sirius, I sincerely thought he was in danger. I don't know how he knew where we were though."
Hermione, a pensive look on her face, looked at Ron, who shrugged and then laid down on the bed. Harry thought she looked like she was doing dozens of arithmancy equations in her head, trying to fit pieces of imaginary puzzles together.
"There's more. She's offered to train me in Occlumency. A proper instruction this time. None of that tripe that Snape tried. Well actually, she more of told me she'd be teaching me."
"Harry, you gonna be alright with this? We know how your…sessions… with Snape got." Ron sat up with concern etched into his face.
Sighing, Harry looked at his friend, a small piece of him flitting in happiness with his friend's concern for him.
"Yeah, I need to do this. I have a feeling it's an important skill to know. Also, there's one other thing we need to discuss, and this must stay between us."
Hermione and Ron shrank from the sheer power behind Harry's eyes as he stared at them intently. Knowing this must be something important for Harry to be acting this way, they both quickly agreed.
"I think, or rather, I believe, that I'm a girl."
"Harry, are you sure? I mean, we support you, but this is the first you've ever mentioned anything like this." Hermione said, glancing between Ron, whose face wore a determined yet lopsided grin, and Harry, whose entire demeanor went from 'powerful' to 'shy' in three seconds.
"I mean, yeah. I've always felt more in tune, I think that's the word, with the girls of my classes. I just kind of kept it hidden after I mentioned it to the Dursley's once, if I could be a girl. They uh, didn't take too kindly to that." At the mention of the Dursley's, both Ron and Hermione could practically feel the venom in Harry's voice.
Ron jumped in, feeling the tension in the air. "Hey mate, c'mon, we're not them. We're here for you. Do you want to try a few names out, or is that too soon?"
Harry stared at his two friends; a fair bit gob smacked. "I- thank you. Both of you. I really appreciate your support. Maybe we can look for names tomorrow, or when we're back at Hogwarts? Maybe see if there's a Potter Family Tree there?"
Apparently this was all Hermione needed to hear because she lunged towards Harry and wrapped Harry in her arms, practically squealing in delight. "Ahh, yes. You know what this means! A trip to the library!"
Both Ron and Harry groaned.
"Dammit Harry, look at what you've done." Ron joked, his laughter joined by Harry's and very shortly after, Hermione's.
The trio retreated to their rooms, a plan now in place to help Harry with a non-Dark Lord related task.
"CRUCIO!"
Lucius Malfoy felt like every single millimeter of his skin was being pierced by red hot needles; this pain was immense. He'd almost forgotten it after fourteen years. And this was only a few seconds worth of exposure.
"You failed to get me the prophecy, Malfoy" The venom in the Dark Lord's voice was palpable, and those in attendance shivered in fear. "Not only that, but you let the Potter brat, and his merry little band of SCHOOL CHILDREN get the best of you?! Three of my Death Eaters are dead, Lucius."
Lucius gulped. This night had gone from great to terrible the second he and the others had stepped foot in the Ministry. Two intruders, one of them the Lord Presumptive Black, was not something that was tolerated. Let alone that none of them were a match for the unknown woman who just appeared. Maybe Bellatrix could, she usually played with her food before demonstrating any of her actual skill. A Black, through and through.
"You are incredibly lucky that your prowess in the Wizengamot has proved incredibly useful, otherwise you'd find yourself dead on the floor."
"Y-yes, my Lord. Your mercy knows no bounds." Lucius scrambled to his knees and bowed to the Dark Lord, the after-effects of Cruciatus exposure causing his extremities to twitch uncontrollably. He would prostrate himself a thousand times if it spared his life.
"Next time you fail me, Lucius, dear old Draco will suffer the consequences. Now go, and summon Bellatrix." Lucius gulped, standing up and bowing once more, the fear evident on his face.
"Yes, my Lord, thank you." Hurrying out of the room, Lucius closed the door behind him, now standing in the foyer of Riddle Manor. Looking around, he saw Bellatrix draped across a love seat, sharpening a dagger, every so often slicing open her own palm with it to gauge its sharpness.
"Mrs. Lestrange, the Dark Lord requests your presence." Lucius managed to stammer.
Without looking up from her 'activity', Bellatrix sneered, "Oh Lucy, can't handle the pain, can we? Tut tut, what a disgrace. What a shame you've proven to be since last we met."
Standing up, Bellatrix finally turned to look at Lucius, sheathing the dagger in its sheath on the belt on her hip. Lucius noticed that she hadn't healed her hand, as it was currently dripping blood. Bellatrix lazily drew her wand, pointing it at her hand, and watched the flesh knit back together.
Giving Lucius a Cheshire grin, Bellatrix finally walked over to the doorway leading into the main hall of Riddle Manor, opening the door behind her.
The last thing Lucius heard before the door shut itself closed was his Lord's voice calling out, "Ah Bella, tell me what happened tonight at the Ministry…"
Lucius walked out the front door, hurrying to the edge of the wards, not even stopping when MacNair, who was out front chopping wood with his axe, called him over.
"I'm busy MacNair!" He called out. It wouldn't do to piss off the other Death Eaters by ignoring them. This place was like Slytherin House, only more cut-throat and with more cut throats. Lucius didn't get the House of Malfoy this far by foolishly making enemies out of allies, after all.
Reaching the edge of the estate, and thus the edge of the wards, Lucius Malfoy apparated back to Malfoy Manor. Cissy needed to know what had happened, and they both needed to plan. Draco was Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's pride and joy, and Lucius would be damned if any harm came to his son. It seems a trip to France for Cissy and Draco was in the cards after all.
When Isolt reached the room she intended to use, she immediately set upon casting wards on the door to alert her if someone tried to get in. Three years on the run instills habits that old Mad Eye would be proud of. Facing the room, Isolt raised her holly wand and swept it across her torso, vanishing all the dust in the room.
Thirty minutes later, after inspecting the room to make sure there weren't any curses, infestations, or hostile magicks in the room, Isolt finally sighed and cast a Tergeo on the bed and collapsed on top of it.
'Well, the cat is somewhat out of the bag now. I'll have to see if Sirius has a copy of "The Mind Arts" somewhere in the Black Library. Harry needs to work on his shields if I want to avoid drawing the attention of the old headmaster.' Isolt mused as she felt her eyelids draw close for the night. It had been an exhausting day.
She dreamt of cold faces frozen in terror, entrails strewn about, the stench of death permeating the air. Of cupboards under stairs and titles given to her, meant to demean and ridicule. Of scars that littered the canvas of her body, mixed with the self-inflicted ones. It was a restless night for Isolt Peverell, the first of many.
A few dozens of miles away, a certain stone archway collapsed, unbeknownst to anyone until the following day, when the Unspeakables clocked in to work.
Up north, in a castle in the Scottish highlands, a bearded headmaster, sound asleep, was awoken by the sounds of several instruments he kept on his desk exploding.
In Wales, a different castle, made of dark stone, shuddered seemingly in anticipation. There was now a new master of Peverell Estate, the last one having locked the estate down two hundred years prior.
In the English countryside, in Riddle Manor, a Dark Lord raged. His followers, shirking in fear, left him alone, cowering in fear and worship if their path crossed his.
Indeed, this was an eventful night for many across the British Isles.
Author's Note/Explanation: I don't really know if this story will have any romantic partner(s) for Isolt. She seems to be going through a lot and probably wants to take some time to focus on herself first.
Also, as this is my first ever story, please feel free to review! Writing is a lot harder than I thought, but I am enjoying it immensely! Usually, I stick to poetry (go figure, PoeticDaph writes poetry), so this is a good exercise for me to improve my writing!