Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Albus Dumbledore's life had begun to rhyme recently.

He could see the subtle patterns, the waves caused by ripples from a thrown stone. In his many years of life, Albus had become an expert at observation, and he could not shake the suspicion that Harry Potter was the stone. Ever since the boy had arrived, Magical Britain had been changing.

Many would not see it so. Whether willfully or ignorantly, the populace of his beloved homeland would stare change in the face until it was right on top of them, then bawl and complain about how unexpectedly and inexplicably it had come upon them.

And more than anything, Albus knew his time as Magical Britain's guardian and custodian was drawing to a close.

Fawkes had left earlier in the day, and he suspected that to be a contributing factor to his mood, but not the root cause. Albus was not as blind as Tom believed him to be. He knew that deep down, the man was just as selfish as his darker counterpart.

Yet he had guided Tom much closer this time. He had carefully, masterfully if he felt self-indulgent, directed the boy's thoughts to the conclusion that his last bastion was on the side of the Light. Albus was well aware that he was keeping his enemies dangerously close, but after his success with Severus he was going to make full use of what he considered an opportunity for redemption. In the end, he had kept a much more careful watch than turned out to be necessary.

Tom was as intelligent and powerful as he ever was, more so, since he never underwent the gruesome rituals his other self had. Between them, Albus and Tom had managed to deduce the method Voldemort had used to 'Flee from Death', and, through a particularly ingenious method Tom had developed, disposed of two already.

The level of dedication to the Light Tom had shown had encouraged Albus to inform him of the single most crucial knowledge in their fight against Tom's Darker half.

The importance of Harry Potter.

But given what Albus had learned of Tom's actions during the battle at Potter Manor the prior evening, a terrible feeling of doubt had crawled under Albus' skin.

His mind made up, Albus penned a letter that was long overdue.


"Right this way."

Hermione had come to vehemently dislike the woman escorting her through St Mungo's.

"You his girlfriend or somethink?" Beryl asked, examining Hermione like a butcher would a ragged piece of meat.

"Something." Hermione corrected.

"He's right in here." She nasalled. "Nevy! Your somethink's here to see you!"

"My what?" His face lifted immediately when he saw her. "Hermione! Brilliant to see you!"

"Nevy?"

"She's been keeping me company since I woke up." He shrugged. "She's got nothing on you though."

"How are you feeling?" Hermione smiled, sitting down at the side of his bed.

"A tad ragged, I won't lie." He smiled. "You'd see right through me."

"Glad to see your sense of humour wasn't damaged."

"Nah, it's always been this way." He smiled so brightly, Hermione couldn't help but laugh.

"When will you be let back out into society?"

"Just now actually." He grinned. "I sent the paperwork off with Beryl right before you arrived."

"Oh. That's… well that's great actually."

"Do you have plans for lunch?"

"I was planning on spending it here with you, but I reckon you'll just want to go home."

"I do." He nodded. "But I would like it if you came with me. We can spend lunchtime at my place, and you can Floo right back to work when we're done."

"I would like that."

"Aren't you sweet." Beryl smiled acidly. "You're free to go, Nevy. Just no apparating, self done or side-along for the next three days. I've got some potions for you as well but I'll just owl them."

"You're a doll, Beryl." Neville beamed.

"See you around, Nevy." Beryl smiled sweetly. Her look chilled as Hermione passed. "Somethink."

Hermione rolled her eyes, following along after Neville as they made their way to the front desk.

A quick transit through a flash of fire later and they stepped into the wood panelled luxury of Longbottom Hall.

"This place has changed." Hermione noted the modernised kitchen and open floor plan foyer. Sheets of plastic and piles of construction materials were dotted around the area.

"I'm still working on it. I started after Gran died." Neville waved his wand, clearing a layer of dust from a modern couch. "I was planning on showing you when it was fully ready."

"Can't you do everything in a few moments?" Hermione waved her wand, causing a small pile of tiles to slide and fix into place.

"I could." Neville agreed. "But I want to do it by hand. I'm at Hogwarts most of the week, so I don't really get to work on it too often. But I need something to do when I'm not helping Pomona tend the greenhouses."

"I think it's lovely."

"Thanks." He smiled nervously. "This house, well, it's never been home. The only permanent residents are memories. Not many good ones at that, either. I felt a change was necessary. It's my property, so it might as well feel like it's mine."

He walked to the kitchen, searching the cupboards while placing cans and tupperware on the counters.

"Neville!" Hermione chided playfully. "You just came from the hospital! I can't let you make me lunch!"

"Then come help me." He grinned. "That way you're making me lunch."

With a grin and a shake of her head, Hermione joined her best friend in the kitchen.


"Well that was lovely, as usual." Harry leaned back in his chair.

"Split the bill?" Astoria offered.

"Nah, I've got this one." Harry placed a small stack of pound notes on the table.

"Need help counting, Potter?" Daphne teased.

"I'm a generous tipper."

"Very generous." Draco noted.

The waiter came by, collecting the money, eyes bulging as he left.

"Well, I'd best be off." Astoria stretched, kissing Draco on the cheek as she stood. He took her hand and they left the restaurant together, leaving Harry and Daphne at the table.

"Walk you back?"

"I suppose I could tolerate your company a while longer."

They easily navigated the streets, dodging small crowds in their path. A light drizzle filled the slowly darkening sky.

"I'd like you to come by after work, if you could."

"Inviting me home, Potter? A bit forward don't you think?"

"I want to review notes, and I think you have a unique skillset and perspective, and you could help me see something I've missed."

"Smooth."

"Thanks." He grinned.

"I suppose I can think of more disagreeable ways to spend the night."

"Oh, so you're spending the night now?" Harry teased back.

"Careful, Potter. You can still scare me off."

"I don't think anything scares you. I-"

Harry cut off as he was thrown to the ground.

"Harry!" Daphne shrieked in terror.

Harry felt his assailant fly off him, sharp claws digging tracts through his clothes and into the skin of his back. With a quick roll he was back on his feet, turning the way he heard a gutural clicking.

The thing was humanoid, pink skin pulled tight over its bones, with elongated limbs and fingers sporting jagged claws that tore through the flesh. Its eyeless face sported a twisted grin from behind shaggy brown strands of hair.

The thing leapt forward so fast Harry only had time to bring up his arms in defence. He winced as bone claws dug into his arms. He weaved out of the way of another swipe, darting a hand into his pocket to draw his wand.

A bright red stunner splashed into its face from over Harry's shoulder, causing the thing to snap its head backwards. It shook itself, growling through needle like teeth as it moved forward heedlessly.

"It's magically resistant!" Harry cried, sending out a powerful cutting curse. The wide curse split a wrought iron garden fence in two, but dug less than half an inch into the creature's flesh. It screeched, dashing forward.

A clawed hand sunk into Harry's wand arm, nearly causing him to drop it. The sinuous red gash across the creature's chest pulsed and throbbed, slowly closing before his eyes. Harry grit his teeth, falling backwards and using the momentum to propel his attacker down the nearest alley. He snatched his wand from the ground, sending a rapid string of curses and spells into the creature's body, trying to keep it off balance.

Daphne sped after him, racking her brain for any way to help. The fight entered a small courtyard, a wrought iron fence warding off stray steps into a central garden.

Harry slammed his shoulder, lifting the creature bodily into the air, before sending it hurtling backwards with a blasting curse. It merely rebounded from the townhouse wall, tackling Harry to the ground.

Daphne's hand shook as she levelled her wand at the scuffle on the ground. There was only one curse she could think of that could overcome magical resistance. One, Unforgivable Curse.

The creature slashed with its elongated claws. Harry grunted in pain.

Daphne levelled her wand. Tears ran down her cheeks.

Harry kicked hard into the creature's side, parried a clawed slash, then slammed his fist into the creature's jaw, stunning it briefly. With his back to the cobblestones and mostly unable to move, Harry placed both his feet on the creature's abdomen and kicked over his head, sending it flying. A sickening squelch told him where it landed.

He spun around watching as the creature pawed at its chest, raking lines of blood into its own skin. It moaned in pained rage, impaled on a fleur de lis adorning the garden fence. It placed one clawed hand on the fence penetrating its back, and another on the fleur sticking through its chest.

It pushed.

Bones grated against iron as skin and flesh squelched.

Harry staggered to his feet, then limped to the fence. With shaking arms and a groan of pain, he bent the iron fleur to a right angle. Watching as the creature rumbled weakly and sagged back on the metal skewer.

"What's going on here?" Three red-robed Aurors rushed into the square, wands levelled. In the street a second group of Aurors and a squad of Obliviators was already cordoning off the area.

"Merlin…" Fairview whispered. "Potter, is that you?"

Harry nodded as he sagged against the fence.

"Someone, fetch a healer!" Wand still aimed at the moaning creature, Fairview inspected the parallel gashes in Harry's thigh, side and over his chest. Three punctures pooled blood in his shoulder. "And call Dark Creature Detainment!"

Harry knew he could heal most of the damage with the potions in his pouch. He breathed, feeling aches and pulls, and deciding it wasn't worth more suspicion, he grit his teeth against the pain.

"Move over!" Daphne darted past the Aurors, kneeling next to Harry. Hiding what she was doing from the Aurors' view. Harry felt her hands reach around his waist and deftly snatch his potions pouch from his belt. Moving her hands back, Daphne grabbed the ends of his shirt, pulling the tatters away to hide her removing the small, leather pouch. Harry's shirt undone, she put her hand into her pocket and very obviously displayed the pouch.

"Do you have any Mending Balm?" Harry gazed at her wonderingly.

"Hold your horses, Potter." She rummaged in the expanded pouch, pulling a short stoppered jar from inside. Running her finger through the balm, she cringed as Harry squirmed while she applied the pale green paste to his open wounds.

"You just wanted an excuse to get my shirt off." Harry winced, squeezing his eyes closed as his flesh knit back together.

"I've been waiting all day." Daphne rolled her eyes, scooping another finger of balm. She ran her wand along the wounds in his thigh, applying a weak cutting curse to cut most of the way through the fabric of his trousers, but not touching the skin. She ripped the cloth away, revealing inch deep gorges in the muscle.

"Careful…" Harry kept his breathing even. "I could have anything down my trousers."

"I'll take my chances."

A low, cutting wail ripped from the creature. Daphne grabbed Harry under his arms and pulled him away while the Aurors snapped their attention back to the whining thing. Muscles and tendons boiled under its skin, causing ripples of flesh to travel over its whole body.

Globs of meat boiled from the skin, falling in chunks to the stones below as the creature shrunk down, revealing a very human body, smoking where it was skewered.

"Nei… ther… may… live…" It breathed, going limp.

"Bloody hell…" Fairview breathed, white faced. "That's- That's Rabastan Lestrange!"


"That…" Hermione took a sip of wine. "Was truly awful."

"I never knew it was even possible to make bacon and cheese pasta poorly."

"This is what I took the day off for?"

"I thought you took the day off because you missed me." Neville grinned.

"It might have been a factor." Hermione smiled. "We had more to catch up than my lunch hour could cover."

"Speaking of," Neville leaned back in his chair. "How's your case going?"

"Twists and turns." Hermione sighed. "I thought my job was simple, Neville. Fight the bad guys, enforce the rules. Do what the people in charge were too scared of doing."

"Like in Hogwarts."

"Just like Hogwarts." She paused, taking another sip of wine. "Then… the break in."

"Rather cut and dry." Neville frowned. "Whoever would want to break in to the Ministry can't exactly be on the side of the angels."

"Yet, it seems they are."

"How?"

"Not counting Chambers, they took down fourteen Death Eaters in the DMLE."

"You say 'they' like you don't know who it is."

"I say 'they' because the idea that Harry I-was-told-the-Minister-was-going-to-be-here-personally Potter being the magical equivalent of Batman is too much for my psyche to bear."

"Batman?"

"Neville, you know Batman. We watched the films at my place."

"And we saw the new one in theatres, I remember. The one with the guy from Metroland."

"Then what's your problem with the reference?"

"Well," Neville shrugged. "I just find it funny that you're having trouble with the idea that the rich playboy celebrity orphan could be Batman."

Hermione's jaw dropped.


Sirius adjusted his spectacles as he painstakingly ran the needle and thread through the seam. Harry had insisted that Sirius leave it, that he'd get to it when he got back, but Sirius wanted to help.

After being stunned during the manor attack he felt completely worthless. He couldn't brew potions, and he'd reviewed the case-relevant memories so many times that he went cross-eyed, so damn it if sewing was the only thing left, he'd sew like the best of them.

He swore as he pricked his finger.

"Surely you're not so old that you don't know thimbles have been invented?" Daphne asked, leaning against the doorframe into the Workshop.

"Daphne!" Sirius squeaked, spinning to face her while trying to cover as much of the inside of the workshop he could. "How lovely to see you! Do you like my… renaissance fair… outfit?"

"You were right, Potter." She smiled brightly over her shoulder. "That was funny."

"Told you." Harry smirked, stepping into the lab. "I thought I told you to leave that till I got back?"

"I needed something to do." Sirius said, deeply confused. "Harry, are you under the Imperius?"

"Hm? Oh, no. I think I'd know." Harry handed Daphne a leatherbound notebook. "This is everything I know and noticed about the poison."

"You'd be hard pressed to find a poison that persists in unicorn blood."

"That's what I said." He beamed.

"Vatnaormur or Basilisk venom could do it."

"Rare. Expensive. Not like you can find a friendly Basilisk under every toilet in Hogwarts."

"Have I gone completely cracked!?" Sirius snapped, causing Harry and Daphne to look his way. "Harry!? Why is she here? No offence, Daphne, you really are a lovely girl. I thought this whole thing was supposed to be secret?"

"Oh, yeah, she figured it out."

"Spent two days or so going through everyone's enchantment signatures in the Ledger."

"Oh." Sirius blanched.

"So I thought," Harry shrugged. "We could use another pair of eyes on all this. Plus, she's an Unspeakable, she knows how to keep a secret."

"Oi!" She slapped his arm playfully. "Unlike you, I don't appreciate having my secrets advertised."

"Sorry."

"Oh it's quite alright."

"How are you so blasé about this?!" Sirius took Harry by the shoulders, heavy with concern.

"Might be the calming draught." Harry wondered.

"It did feel rather strong." Daphne agreed.

"Calming draught?" Sirius blanched

"Oh, yeah, forgot to mention. We were attacked by a mutated Rabastan Lestrange on our way back from lunch."

"The healers gave us each a calming draught and told us to take it easy the rest of the day."

"So I mentioned, to Daphne."

"Just me, don't worry."

"About how I've got all these notes on the investigation at home, so she decided to come over and have a gander."

"Can we just-" Sirius rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Just, rewind a bit? You were attacked by Rabastan Lestrange?"

"Magically transformed." Daphne elaborated. "All gangly limbs and claws."

"Rather like a hairless werewolf in shape."

"Except werewolves have eyes."

"Good point." Harry conceded. "Werewolf up to the neck."

"I-" Sirius took a moment, visibly steadying himself. "I'm going to fix some tea. Absolutely flush with Neutralising Decoction, and you two are going to drink it, and give a better explanation."

"Ok." Harry beamed.

"I love explaining things."

"Me too!"

"Bloody hell…" Sirius cursed as he fled to the kitchen. "This is getting out of hand. I've become outnumbered."


Tom ran his wand tenderly along the side of the Diadem. A low hum rumbled through the stone chamber. He lowered the still humming circlet, placing it gently inside a chalk circle, central to the runic circuit he devised. Inside an identical circuit in front of him, his family ring buzzed with whispers.

He closed his eyes, preparing himself for what was to come. A screeching wail. The spirit of Lord Voldemort sped out of the diadem, colliding with the invisible dome that barriered the ritual. Eyes still closed, Tom smirked.

A candle had been placed precisely inside a chalk triangle, drawn within a circle, set within a pointed pentagon. The spirit struggled and wailed, futilely, as it was pulled ever closer to the single candle. As the candle's flame burned the spirit away, the flames turned green.

Tom opened his eyes.

The flame twisted and grew, morphing into a version of himself, much older.

"Where am I?" His flame counterpart demanded. "Explain yourself."

"Hello," Tom said pleasantly. "I am Tom Marvolo Riddle. I am Lord Voldemort."

"Impossible." The fire hissed. "What manner of illusion is this?"

"The year is 2005." Tom continued. "I am Professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, though likely not for much longer."

"My curse…" His counterpart crackled.

"Oh, no, I removed that ages ago." Tom smirked at the snarl the fire bore. "No, I am running for Minster for Magic. And I expect to win."

"Dumbledore would never allow it."

"Dumbledore is one of my greatest allies."

"You serve the Light?" The fire grimaced. "You sicken me."

"Oh no." Tom grinned. "The Light serves me."

"How is this possible? What is this?"

"You are a Horcrux." Tom explained. "Just like I was, once. Before I was freed."

"Then… I escaped death."

"Yes. And no."

"Explain!"

"In the year 1981 you attacked a boy, Harry James Potter. Your killing curse rebounded and destroyed your mortal body."

"Impossible…"

"Indeed."

"Why am I here? How am I here?"

"I myself was resurrected in the year 1992, using the life force of a young girl named Ginny Weasley. After discovering that I was not the only Horcrux, I developed this ritual, allowing me to study my fall from power into madness."

"Release me." The fire urged. "Together we will be unstoppable…"

"Tempting. But you and I both know we could never trust each other."

"You cannot fool me." The fire smirked. "You would not free me unless you wanted something from me."

"Well, you are correct about that." Tom's smirk turned vicious. "In your current form, you are just your soul. If you were given substance in, for example wax or sand, you would be able to reach some facet of your magical reserves at the time of your creation. Unfortunately, the effort to contain your spirit in a vessel of fire prohibits you from the simplest magical abilities. Such as… Occlumency."

Without warning, Tom tore through the spirit's memories, wrenching a piercing scream through the silence.

The flames flickered, smoking and sputtering.

"I did want something from you." Tom purred. "Your memories. Your secrets. And the look on your face as you burn away."

"Lord Voldemort would never truly side with the Light." The spirit shrunk, flames already growing dim.

"There is no Light or Dark. Only power."

The flames flickered now, Lord Voldemort's spirit barely clinging to life. Then, it burned away.

Tom stretched as he stood. He'd bring the new information to Albus. Perhaps the old man could devise some strategy to get into Gringotts. With a flick of his wand he vanished the remnants of his ritual, summoning his house ring, and the now exorcised Diadem to him.


Death Eaters bowed and scraped as he passed through the halls of Malfoy Manor. Whispers of reverence washed over him, though he acknowledged none of them. A white hand, pale skin cracked, ran along the dark wooden balustrade as he made his way down to the cellar, leaving a dark trail of bloody footsteps in his wake.

The Philosopher's Stone had resurrected him, though his regrown body took poorly to life. Despite the discomfort of constantly broken skin, and the reliance on the Elixir of Life to sustain his body, it was vastly preferable to the alternative.

With the Elixir as his life blood, he was nearly as magically powerful as he had ever been, and his mind held a clarity that he had not known since his Hogwarts years. He had expected the Elixir to return his health, but he had never expected it to heal his mind as well. Only after his resurrection had he realised how far his mental faculties had deteriorated.

He opened the cellar door.

Eight identical black coffins occupied the room. One stood empty, revealing its red velvet interior. With a delicate touch, he undid the silver clasps on two more coffins, lifting the glass lids.

Gangly limbed, clawed beings slowly rose from their resting place, their eyeless faces down as they kissed his robes.

Lord Voldemort smiled, causing fresh lines to tear in the skin around his mouth.

"Barty," He crooned as he ran a hand over one's hairless head, leaving streaks of blood. The other rubbed herself against his leg. "Bella."

His blood red eyes narrowed as they crouched in front of him.

"I have a task for you."