Disclaimer: I own nothing; this is a work of fanfiction based of the series of books written by J.K Rowling
Quotations and paraphrasing may occur.
Chapter 5 – Hexameters
Harry was starting to feel the fatigue of a heavy mind. The shock of being named champion had all but worn off now, leaving behind just an ugly fear that crouched over him. It was watching patiently, ready to sink its teeth in and take him. The first task was now less than a week away and Harry had never experienced nerves like these before. His talk about the future with Draco had gone almost entirely forgotten. It was as if his whole life had been leading to this moment, and would end with the first task.
The only silver lining of this dark stormy cloud was the talk he was supposed to have with Sirius after he had been to see Hagrid, in the Gryffindor common room no less. He and Hermione had already gone over how they were going to clear the common room of stragglers that night, unafraid to drop dungbombs if necessary. Harry couldn't help but wonder how Sirius was going to pull it off, whether he would just fly up to the window on Buckbeak's back and climb through, he'd probably appear from behind somewhere and surprise him. He had made into the castle before when it was guarded, surely he could do it again.
He didn't know how Sirius was going to make him feel better about being forced to perform some form of difficult and complicated piece of magic in front of thousands of people, but maybe he could teach him something useful that could help, although he had made no mention of it in his letter. It almost had him hoping for dementors, at least those he could deal with.
Meanwhile his life in the castle had once again been turned on his head, it was as if he was not allowed to have any peace. The twins wasted no time in showing him a copy of The Daily Prophet which had his and Draco's interview published with Rita Skeeter's piece on the Tournament. Only it came out as a colourful life story about Harry and a joint obituary for him and Draco on page three. Fleur and Viktor's names had been misspelt and Cedric hadn't been mentioned altogether.
Harry could hardly call it journalism. The obvious dismissal of actual facts painted a tall tale of Harry being a rebellious maverick, with no regard for rules, enjoying the friendship and rivalry of Draco off and on the quidditch pitch. It had been nothing less than pure fabrication. Though that didn't seem to matter much to the rest of the school, those gullible to believe it lapped it up, those who didn't still got a good laugh out of it. The teasing from the Weasley twins was nearly too much to bear which was really the last sense of normality he had.
'Insurgent Scions:
Harry Potter Boy-Who-Lived and Draco Malfoy Heir-to-Riches Rebel as Triwizard Champions'
The headline and byline alone were awful enough. It had only been released for four days but every time he thought about it, it made him feel sick with anger. He couldn't remember saying any of those things printed in his life much less in a broom cupboard, and in comparison Draco came off so much easier than he had.
"Laugh it up Malfoy. At least I'm not pawing for the attention of my neglectful father." Harry said bitterly taking the words from the article.
"Whatever, this is golden." Draco smiled mercilessly.
A wave of nausea hit Harry like a punch in the stomach. This was Draco enjoying his lastest enactment of revenge on him.
Harry now apparently cried himself to sleep according to Rita. She had asked around him, and thanks to Colin Creevey, Hermione was 'his stunningly pretty muggleborn girlfriend'. This caused many students to start to direct their attention at her with their invectives and abuse, predominantly the older Slytherin boys.
Hermione handled herself very well much to Harry's admiration as she chose to be above such things.
"Stunningly pretty? Her?" Pansy Parkinson had gasped the moment she came face-to-face with Hermione after Rita's since the article had appeared. "What was she judging against - a chipmunk?"
Hermione didn't even dignify her with a response instead she walked on gracefully like she hadn't even heard her.
However Harry was already at tipping point. Try as he might and as much as Hermione told Harry to ignore it, Harry's anger sparked. He had grown up being called worse, but he knew Hermione had been bullied before and we wasn't about to stand by and do nothing. He was tired of doing nothing and couldn't help himself. His ire fuelled him to pull out his wand, like lightning a flash of blue hit Parkinson square in the face.
She stood wide eyed in shock as the effects of his attack took hold. Nasty yellow and green tinged boils sprouted all over her face. It was enough to cause her to run howling down the corridor with her hands in her face. The students stood around were half in fear of Harry and half laughing at Pansy's misfortune.
He hoped that was enough to send out a message to anyone who dared utter another vile word in his or Hermione's direction.
"Narcissists" He muttered under his breath with a hollow chuckle.
"Granted, Pansy does spend more time preening herself than actually paying attention to what's going on around her. Still, lashing out will end up you up in trouble. I wish you hadn't done that, but thank you." Hermione sighed even though she was secretly rather happy about him sticking up for her damning the consequences.
"So worth it. Besides a simple finite gets rid of those. It's more likely Madam Pomfrey will give her an earful for missing something so obvious. What? She had it coming and we both know it." Harry said while shaking his head at Hermione's disapproving look.
Harry pouted and followed her into the Ancient Runes studies classroom. It was unique compared other classrooms he had been in. There were five walls in the shape of a pentagon, with five alcoves and high arches bowing above them. Tapestries of old hung from the walls, and diagrams of pentagrams with converging lines and strange symbols.
Harry stared at them fascinated.
"This is what I was talking about, by the way - the Glyphs." She whispered to him.
Hermione had taught him to recognise them as runic layouts. These were special spells drawn through lines, shapes and writings for wards and rituals, though different cultures all had their own different versions. Like rites were a common practice until the eighteenth century it was still useful knowledge for professions like Curse Breakers.
Hermione was just in the middle of recounting to him how the ancient magi of eastern dynasties used them to protect their tombs and temples from outsiders with booby traps and curses. When Professor Babbling raised her head Hermione's voice quickly died down.
The Professor stood behind her desk, a blackboard behind her. She was a relatively short woman, with her dark hair pinned up into a knotted braid around a single long needle. She peered through her red veil, with pale green eyes that looked straight through Harry. As a woman in her thirties she dressed sharp, and according to Hermione, she had a sharp tongue and sharper mind too.
"Let us welcome our new class member, Harry Potter. Take a seat, everyone open your books to Chapter eight. I trust professor McGonagall has provided you with a copy Mr. Potter-very well. Now don't be afraid to ask questions." Her heavy lidded eyes returned to the register. The way she told him to not be afraid startlingly had the opposite effect.
Harry, a little stunned looked up at the rest of the class as she called out names. Hermione gave him a reproached look as she took her seat next to Padma Patil. He noted the auburn hair of Tracy Davis sat next to Theodore Nott both of them watching him with an intense gaze.
His eyes drifted to the table she indicated to him. Hermione had already warned him that he'd be assigned with the student asked to tutor him.
Harry saw the unmoving figure of a girl with pale blonde hair who hadn't bothered to turn her head. Grimacing, he slid into his seat next to her.
"I should have known it'd be you." He muttered despondently.
"There is very good reason for that. Now head down Potter." She responded. Daphne Greengrass' gaze remained forward, refusing to turn to look at him. They sat in silence as Professor Babbling began.
He thankfully wasn't at a complete loss and it wasn't as difficult to follow as expected. However, as interesting as Harry found the subject, he became increasingly distracted by the presence of the girl next to him. He had thought about how he would next be able to approach Greengrass in hopes to talk to her about what had happened that night in the library. Quidditch hadn't presented much opportunity and he couldn't very well go up to her during any of their other classes or breaks. Now he was sat next to her he could not find the words to bring up the subject. It was like his brain had stopped, simply from her ignoring his existence. He did not like this feeling and sat like stone.
Then without warning Harry would hear a hissing in his ear interrupting his thoughts and suddenly Daphne was showing him her notes to copy. Each time he was left tense and rather agitated, unable to predict when she was going to strike next. He noticed though, when she decided he was in need, that Daphne's book was just as crammed as Hermione's was - if not more- only Daphne's notes were far more thorough and extensive.
As it grew closer to the end of class Harry tiredly packed away his books, ink and quill, only then did Daphne slipped him a note on a scrap of parchment. Harry looked quizzically at the girl who was now packing away her own items. She still kept an imperturbable expression on her face as she avoided looking at him. Harry glanced at her perfect handwriting, long fine lettering that flourished neatly with every line. He wondered if it really had to be so flawless.
'Meet me in the library 6 o'clock so I can begin to get you up to speed. Same stall as last time. Don't be late.'
Before Harry could say a word Daphne had already swept out of the room and all he could do was watch her disappear out of the door. Harry slowly followed suit stuffing the note in his pocket and running his hands through his wild black hair exasperatedly.
"So what did you think?" Hermione asked coming up to him and slinging her bag over one shoulder.
"I think she's crazy." Harry mumbled unhappily accompanying his friend out of the class room.
"I was talking about Ancient Runes." Hermione said with a sly grin. Not realising he wasn't talking about Professor Babbling.
"Oh yeah, it was actually really fascinating. Some of it I could make sense of, a lot of it - not so much."
"It'll take time Harry. And how was Daphne Greengrass? I don't see how she can help if she barely speaks a word to you all lesson."
"You were watching?" He realised that he probably got a few strange looks throughout from the class. Although he had excellent perception most of the time, he had been distracted by the presence of the blonde girl the entire lesson. "Well she helped a bit but she did say she wanted to meet me in the library on later, for tutoring. Probably thinks I'm a hindrance or something during class."
"I see. It does make sense that she is tutoring you I suppose." Hermione said thoughtfully.
"Doesn't seem to make much sense to me. Something must be in water this year with these snakes, first Malfoy now Greengrass."
"Well she is second in the academic year and better than me at runes at least." Hermione said shortly ignoring the mention of Draco.
"I know that voice - you don't like her do you?" Harry gave Hermione a sideways glance.
"It's not that I don't like her, I just get… competitive. I usually beat her at theory and last year's exam - but only just. I don't know what her work ethic is like but whenever it comes to practical ability with something new she's a natural and she is always ahead." Hermione sighed with frustration which Harry enjoyed immensely.
"I never thought I'd hear you sound jealous." Harry gave her a crooked half smile.
"I am not jealous." She said all too fast, sending him a short glare. "At any rate I don't think she thinks much of me besides my good grades."
"Oh? Because she's a Slytherin?" Harry thought back to what Draco had told him the previous evening. At least her reserved nature made her less obvious if that was the case but he was still unconvinced.
"Well she has always kind of acknowledged me in her own kind of way. From what I can tell, she rarely speaks to anyone outside her circle. Once I saw Parkinson bad mouthing Tracy, she didn't even say thing she just gave her this terrifying glare I've never seen Pansy shut her mouth so fast." Hermione shivered at the memory.
"So she doesn't like Parkinson? Who can blame her?" Harry said relishing the memory of Parkinson slinking away that morning still fresh in his mind.
"I am a little surprised she would agree to tutor you in the first place though."
"Right, of course, what with me being a social pariah." Harry nodded.
"That's not what I meant."
"Sure." Harry said with a smirk only teasing Hermione.
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose as he sat over his dinner. In his mind he had begun to try piece Greengrass together, though it was mostly conjecture. On Thursday he had gone to Professor McGonagall about his subject transfers, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. He assumed that same day she must have spoken to Professor Babbling who in turn approached Daphne.
So had Daphne agreed on the spot? Or did she decide after she made her own impressions? Speculating then that whatever it was, it had prompted her to lure him out to the library; she had said she had wanted to meet him after all. That didn't answer how she knew he'd turn up, all she had said was she 'hoped'
How much more vague could she have been? Harry thought, her cryptic replies were more a hindrance than a help.
She had chosen a secluded place, orchestrated out of hours. All things come in full circle, he thought ironically. Harry then considered the very likely possibility she didn't want to be seen around him, probably because she preferred not to be ostracised by her house, which was understandable considering how Draco was being treated.
When he asked what Hermione would be doing that evening and whether she'd be coming along, she for once opted to miss out on the visit to the library.
"No, I don't think I should be inviting myself. I don't think we will play well together and I have some S.P.E.W knitting I want to take care of." She said shaking her head with smile. Ever since he had told her about his reunion with Dobby and seeing the other elves in the kitchen she had redoubled her efforts to improve Elf rights in her spare time.
"Maybe you should spend time with Ron and try be civil. I know you miss him." Harry said.
Though that wasn't what he really meant, he was the one missing Ron. He had enjoyed Hermione's company and he was happy that they'd grown closer but he was sure if it hadn't been for the quidditch team, and had he spent his time like he had the first week of November, he'd have gone insane.
"Passing up on a trip to the library?" George asked overhearing the strange happening.
"As I live and breathe." Fred said with his eyes twinkling.
"Is it the Imperius I wonder?"
"Or perhaps polyjuice George?" Fred offered.
"We should send out a search party-"
"-and find out where the real Hermione Granger is being tied up." Both twins snickered and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Or just maybe the Gryffindor power couple are breaking up?" George stated holding up his copy of the Prophet.
"Trouble in paradise I see. Relationships under pressure are 65% more likely to breakup according to Witch Weekly, with imminent death bumping it up to a whopping 97%." Fred pointed to another article with Harry's face on it.
"It's no wonder really…" George said sadly.
"Wait you guys aren't actually going out are you?" Sophie asked confused.
"No!" They both answered at the same time sending the twins chortling.
"That nonsense isn't remotely funny. Good luck Harry. Watch yourself with her okay?" Hermione said getting up from the table.
"So Harry, got a hot date in the library, a little home wrecker perhaps?" Fred asked him, more interested to know who Hermione would so keenly avoid if it meant not going to the library.
"Something like that – I have an Ancient Runes tutor. I'll see you later." Harry explained grumpily before getting up himself, deciding it was time to go not wanting anymore questions on the matter or else things were sure to get worse.
Madam Pince scrutinised him as he entered the archive and he soon found Daphne exactly where she said she would be, enclosed in a stall at the back of the library surrounded by books.
She didn't notice him at first. She had her head hung over her text as she read intently, a curtain of blonde hair falling to one side. Her face screwed up slightly as she tried to scan small almost illegible writing. Harry made a coughing sound in his throat, getting her attention.
Daphne looked up blinking in surprise. "You're early."
"Shouldn't I be?" quipped Harry.
"If I don't know any better I'd say you're trying to impress me." She said coolly with a forced smile.
"Oh? Did it work?" Harry raised an eyebrow.
"No." She said flatly, ignoring his attempt at humour. "Sit down Potter we have a lot to cover."
"Someone isn't in a good mood."
"On the contrary I'm not unhappy with this arrangement." Daphne stated matter-of-factly.
"Why is that I wonder?" He asked. Well that's a bad sign. But Daphne didn't reply, instead she moved a book towards him, helpful notes scribbled in the margins. "Is this yours?" All things come in a full circle, he thought once more.
"It's my book from last year. You can keep it but I expect you to finish reading it by Christmas. That's when we can make some real progress."
"We're really going to blast through this?" Harry asked looking over the book he was presented with.
"What did you expect we would be doing?" Daphne asked.
"I wasn't sure, you're very..." But Harry trailed off, he was wholly unsure as to what she was exactly.
"So you thought we could have a little chat about our last evening in here?"
"I did want to bring that up, yes." Harry looked at her intently watching her as she tucked away loose strands of hair behind her ear. She glanced at him with her grey eyes, her lips a hard line.
"I'll bet. After we have covered Proto-Germanic runes and their uses in wards and inscriptions we can talk. Call it an incentive, is that acceptable?" She held his gaze.
"Unequivocally." Harry said with a long drawn out breath making Daphne roll her eyes.
He didn't know what to expect, but Harry actually found Daphne to be a very capable teacher, better than Snape at any rate. When he commented on how runes meanings indirectly changes the relationships between the runes and the enchantment changes, she nodded encouragingly. As the hours passed she wasn't short or belittling, instead patient and reserved as she corrected the flaws in his theory that Hermione had missed.
"Don't think of them as straight forward commands. They aren't one worded incantations, it has nuance, with structures of layouts building on top each other. Because runes predate spellcraft and the use of wands, they are an original focus of magic. Which is why they are so often intricate too, lasting for centuries if not indefinitely. It all comes down to intent and meaning behind the runes, see here – the ash rune. If it comes first or as a prefix it can cause healing or fortification as a primary element do you see?"
"Hence why it also referred to as the aegis ruin" Harry noted.
"Good to see Granger hasn't wasted your time. However, when it comes after -here- it becomes power. So it affects the area or object by amplifying the existing effect do you see the importance of duality in its use?"
"I think so, so if it was say… the yew rune, if it came before it would have a similar effect – everlasting and rebirth right? But as a suffix it is death so it does the opposite and could deteriorate and collapse the whole enchantment?"
"Exactly." She smiled approvingly. Harry watched as she caught herself, averting her gaze.
"I think we're done for tonight." She sighed, her expression reverting back to unreadable.
"And here I thought you were just starting to have fun." Harry trying to get a reaction but Daphne remained neutral as she began to stack some of their books.
"We're not here for fun." Daphne said in a frosty manner.
"Well I had fun. I'll help you put those away, just tell me where to go." Harry offered.
"Thank you. Aisle eight, second row, third shelf from the top." She said curtly handing him several books. Fortunately all the books belonged on the same shelf of the Ancient Runes section and Harry made a mental note of them for later before returning to their table.
"So, you have questions." She stated as soon as he sat back down.
"You know more than I like to share with people so I think it is only fair I had some answers."
"Fair… you are right, I suppose. I'll either answer honestly or not at all is that acceptable?" Daphne replied with a thinly veiled smile.
"I'll start with the easy ones then. Favourite colour?" Harry wasted no time in asking questions.
"Lilac." She said still smiling.
"Favourite subjects?"
"A tie between Runes and Charms." Daphne said thoughtfully. Harry could understand why Ancient Runes would be her favourite, seeing as she certainly had a strong grasp of the subject. Not only did it have several points of interest like its historical practices, but it was almost like several subjects forged into one, much like Arithmancy but with more practical application than theory.
"Do you have any pets?"
"A family owl and two cats."
"And your family?" Harry asked.
"A little sister, Astoria is two years younger and my mother and father. I have extended family but we don't see them much." Daphne answered the last part a little too quickly.
"And why did you really agree to tutor me?"
"I thought you were better than that Potter." Daphne tutted with a playful smirked and Harry shrugged at her remark "I have already told you, you are a… curious personality. Not at all what I expected and I mean that in a good way."
"How is that good?" Harry was beginning to feel uneasy.
"Well, I have spent nearly three years hearing nothing but bad things about the boy-who-lived. I wanted to see up close what you were like, for myself." Daphne answered folding her arms
"And what do you think?"
"Nothing like the stories, nothing like what people say. You're pleasant enough."
"Only pleasant? I'm wounded." Harry raised an eyebrow at the girl. At least she had made it clear she didn't abhor him, which was more than he could say for most.
"And a little annoying, but you're doing that on purpose, testing me. Some people are very good at hiding who they are, so only time can tell." Daphne stated, it made Harry laugh, especially coming from the Slytherin girl. "I suppose that makes me sound rather suspicious doesn't it?"
"Just ironic, from what I can tell, not that I know a great deal about you."
"Do you have any idea?" She asked her eyes suddenly not so cold, but instead very interested. She drew in close and Harry felt knot tie in his stomach.
"Maybe." Harry said fixed in place by her stare.
"This should be fun. Go on then, I'll play this game, what do you think you know?" She said with a crooked smile.
Harry debated divulging his suspicions. Greengrass was a hard read, he wouldn't know if his inklings were right or not. However he had as little to lose as he did to gain he thought.
"Okay… you have a reputation, a very low profile one. It isn't in your interests to be associated with me, especially with your house. A house I think you are silently at odds with given your best friend and your aversion to following the crowd. But also the fact we've come into close contact three times now which means something is more important to you than self-preservation."
Daphne hid behind a knowing smile.
"You're half right, in parts, only I know what is in my interests. I care about my house a great deal, maybe not some of my housemates but life runs smoother for me if I avoid making waves and staying out of gossip, which was why I was happy about tutoring you." She stated.
"It's the perfect opportunity to sate your curiosity about me without drawing too much attention yourself." Harry understood.
"Not bad. Can I try you?" Daphne asked biting her lip.
"Go for it." Harry grinned.
"So, first of all you're a recluse; happy in your own company but you value contact. But we already established that last week." Daphne said thoughtfully, "You're friendly but you don't befriend just anyone. Initially you don't trust people… but you are willing to give them the benefit of the doubt to get to know them - hence why we are here. You shy away from your fame. From what I can tell you have a decent personality despite it. Which either indicates you out grew it or it overwhelms you. I suspect the latter… so I think…you grew up outside the wizarding world? Not really knowing who you are." Harry nodded in surprise. "That's why you have a strong friendship with Granger, you can relate to each other as outsiders." Daphne finished, her eyes gleaming as she pursed her lips.
"You are good, like Sherlock Holmes good." Harry admitted.
"It's elementary my dear." Daphne said dryly to his surprise.
"You know muggle literature?" Harry looked at her in disbelief.
"Only the classics, the classics are the best." Daphne said and Harry hummed in response.
"But Hermione and I didn't become friends because we were outsiders. Dean Thomas is an orphan in the muggle world just like me and it isn't like we became best friends."
"How did such a strong friendship take root then? You've been nigh inseparable since first year, Weasley too until recently."
"A story for another time. Have you always kept a close eye on me and my friends?"
"Not particularly, but you are talked about a lot, it's hard not to overhear. I think at some point everyone has wanted to be your friend, well, with the legend at least, so is it really that surprising? I see why you kind of shunned everyone."
"I didn't shun anyone, I guess- I wasn't very popular in the muggle world so..." Harry caught the rest of the words in his throat.
"So you're just not very good at making actual friends?" Daphne asked.
"I guess you could put it that way Greengrass." Harry nodded vaguely as Daphne looked at him with narrow eyes.
"Ah and your fame, or infamy as it is these days, only makes it harder." Daphne smiled, and once again Harry felt a shiver up his spine. "So, now we know a little about each other. What is it you really wanted to ask? It's why you are really here." Her eyes remained on him as she cut to the point.
Harry's eyes quickly glanced around making sure there was no one close enough listen in. Daphne had been thorough, their corner of the library was hidden well away from the main aisles and it was late enough now that most students had all but trickled out.
"Not entirely, you're not the only curious one around here. But you know two of my secrets, I know one of yours. I'd like to keep that knowledge disclosed, how do I know I can trust you not tell anyone?" Harry asked in a low voice leaning back.
"How do you know I already haven't Potter?" Daphne tilted her head to the side as Harry gazed at her concerned. "Which I haven't, but I can see your angle. So allow me to elaborate a little seeing as you divulged to me your secrets and in turn I showed you one of my own. You may as well know now seeing as the damage is done." Daphne sighed and paused for a moment chewing on her tongue, thumbing her wand under the table.
"My book – it's a Grimoire. It was a common practice for ancient families to pass down a Grimoire, it was how magic was taught and documented before schools become popular and used later still for all the magic learnt after Hogwarts. A tradition that isn't practiced so much these days." Daphne said sadly. "As far as I'm aware only three other people know of its existence and you are one of them. It has been in the possession of my family for centuries and is a closely guarded secret."
"So how did your Grimoire get a map like mine?" Riddle's diary came to the forefront of his thoughts, Bloody Slytherins and their dangerous books.
"Did you think you were special?" Daphne teased enjoying the discomfort flash across his face.
"No, it just seems to be if there was a way to make them easily more people would have one."
"Well, fortunately they aren't easy. The process is actually very difficult because of Hogwarts being unplottable. However it isn't impossible to create one, you need only find and exploit the right loopholes. My grimoire has a lot on runes and warding, and as I come from one of the oldest families in the country it isn't surprising someone in my family created one. I don't know why it is that they block the names of different owners though, I have some theories but I'll get back to you on those. Now, I have a fairly good idea how they were created, you said yours was an inheritance..."
"My dad and his friends made it, when he was in school." Harry said quietly. Daphne nodded in understanding.
"That is very impressive ingenuity. I'd like to think we are the only owners of such maps. Simply put they are runic maps, ones that also show magical signatures. Hogwarts appears because it is itself a magical construct rather than just a location; if you look closely the walls are made up of runes. They are constantly flowing because the wards and enchantments. The level of charms and rune knowledge needed is very high, not to mention you'd need to learn every corner of Hogwarts to properly map it, if I am correct it would also need the homunculus charm, the higher tier version of homenum revelio, to track the signatures. Sorry, I am getting ahead of myself."
"Its fine, you're kind of brilliant, it's fun to watch." Harry gave her a small smile.
"You're making fun of me."
"I don't make fun of people, not unless they deserve it." Harry said in reassurance.
"So what did I do to deserve your wrath?" Daphne said, the edge of her lips curling. "I think you should look into whether your family had a grimoire, your house is just as old as mine. I can't be sure there is one or where it might have kept it, these things were usually kept away from the jealous eyes of rival families."
"Which is why you try to keep yours a secret?" Harry arched an eye brow.
"Yes, so consider yourself special as I guard my secrets very closely, as should you from now on." Daphne didn't scowl, but gave Harry a stern look.
"Is that a threat?" Harry looked at her suspiciously.
"Just some friendly advice." She replied with a hint of a smile.
" Still, I think there should be some insurance on both our parts." Harry said holding his chin.
"As we're in the same boat, I agree. So in order to establish some basis of trust between us, I propose we make a deal."
"And you already have something in mind?" Harry asked sceptically.
"Naturally, I have considered where we stand and I can tell you still don't wholly trust me. Smart - because I wouldn't trust me either. So, yes I have something in mind." Daphne clasped her hands.
"Well that's reassuring." Harry said with a wry smile. "What are you proposing then?" Harry wondered what she could offer him. He guessed it would probably information on those in Slytherin, though he didn't have much interest and Draco had been helpful enough already.
"In exchange for my silence you can do something for me. Seeing as I'm already tutoring you in Ancient Runes and I see that as large favour on my part, being top of the class, I guarantee even Granger won't be as helpful as I am. So my question is, are you free Saturday?" Daphne mentally held her breath as she sat on her hands. She had manoeuvred her wording carefully enough. She couldn't do to let him see them shake, not even a little.
"Mostly…" Harry's mind thought ahead to his meeting with Hagrid that hopefully wouldn't interfere with his meeting with Sirius at one.
"Good, then you can escort me on the Hogsmeade trip." Daphne swallowed, but her voice still sounded natural. Harry did a double take, staring dumbly at Daphne whose expression remained unchanged.
"You want to go with me?"
"That is what I am suggesting." She deadpanned.
"You're blackmailing me into a trip to Hogsmeade?" Harry asked confused.
"It isn't blackmail if both parties are in agreement. Is my company that unappealing?" Daphne pretended to frown.
"You aren't entirely unpleasant... Fine, we'll be spending a lot of time together so we may as well try to be friends - if you don't mind being seen around me that is." Harry smiled.
Daphne blinked, she hadn't thought it'd be that easy. Not only did she not need to put any pressure on him with no motives and no incentives but he had even suggested they be friends.
Daphne shook her head, marshalling her thoughts. "That won't be a problem and if we were seen… well, perhaps it will put a stop to those rumours about you and Granger." The blonde witch smirked at him.
"Oh, so now you have a sense of humour?" Harry groaned.
"I always did. Now if you don't mind. 'There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep." She said getting to her feet.
"'Sleep, delicious and profound, the very counterfeit of death'" Harry smiled wistfully. He enjoyed watching the lights of Daphne's eyes brighten for that second; her look of momentary surprise was satisfying, finally impressed.
"We'll meet at the entrance hall, say, eleven o'clock?" She asked composing herself quickly for the third time that evening.
"I'll be there Greengrass."
"Oh and Potter, I shouldn't need to remind you but try and keep our encounters out of classes discreet won't you?" Daphne said, her eyes carefully remaining on Harry.
"Like people would believe me anyway." Harry looked up and smiled at her reassuringly.
Daphne left the library very pleased, not that you'd see it from looking at her. As she made the climb down to the dungeons her heels clicked on the cold stone floor happily.
"Adonis." The witch said. The wall of skulls opened.
A few students turned to see who had returned to the common room, their heads rising in interest before quickly bowing back down upon seeing her. Daphne didn't mind being the way she was, if all they had to judge her on was a lie that she presented weren't they the fools for believing the lie?
Daphne spotted Tracy reclining on a large black leather lounger, a book in hand and her brow furrowed. Daphne walked over without a word and placed herself in the crook of her lap. The auburn haired girl snapped shut the book and looked at her with mirthful hazel coloured eyes.
Daphne knew she was in for an interrogation, though she wouldn't have it any other way.
Tracy and Daphne had first met when Daphne was five when their fathers met on business. The recently widowed Mr. Davis had come to their estate for negotiations on an exports deal as he had contacts in the United States Magical Republic.
Tracy had been sitting outside her father's office with a stuffed toy playing on her own. It was only by chance Lady Greengrass with her two daughters in tow came along and saw little Tracy sat on her own. As the Greengrass matriarch stepped inside for a word she learned of the situation and offered to look after Tracy while their fathers talked business.
Tracy of course was immediately enamoured with the little Astoria, staring at her with wonder in her hazel eyes. The wary Daphne was less than thrilled with the arrangement. The little blonde girl was sure to think Tracy would further divide the attention between her, her new little sister and her mother. But instead the auburn haired girl just turned and happily started to talk to her, jabbering away without a care, and Daphne stopped and listened.
It often felt like since that first encounter Daphne had never stopped listening, that rolling conversation had changed the entire course of her life. Despite her adorable life sized little doll of a sister and her beautiful mother, Tracy had at that moment decided Daphne was the one worth her time.
Growing up Tracy had been everything Daphne wasn't, she was talkative, often boisterously rude, she preferred to play rather than read and Daphne didn't mind. Tracy never held any of their differences against Daphne, not like the other girls had teased her for. She thought instead it would be better to drag Daphne along on her adventures, like it was her own administered brand of torture.
Since then Mr Davis remained a friend of the family, the single father happy his daughter had found a female mother figure and a friend in the powerful Greengrass household. Still the death of his late muggle wife weighed heavily on his shoulders. Daphne's parents hadn't been prejudiced to Tracy, they had been far from it, but it was only from behind closed doors they treated her like a third daughter, in the open though they still retained the appearance and standing of a proper pureblood family, simply for the benefit of running a successful and profitable business.
Daphne proved to incredibly intelligent early on and sensitive towards social issues at a young age she realised that she and Tracy were not considered equal before most would have. When Daphne wanted to bring Tracy to the parties her parents attended, for an unknown reason she couldn't. She thought if Pansy could attend why couldn't Tracy? She much preferred to have the girl with auburn hair and freckles keeping her company, she wasn't mean and much more fun to be around. So Daphne refused to speak to any of them, if her best friend couldn't be friends with the other girls then why did she have to be?
But she didn't understand the reason this rift till much later. When she outgrew the dresses and curtseying to strangers, being called pretty by wizards and witches she hardly knew and the company of their children who acted no better. As Daphne began her private lessons at age seven she knew something was off, Tracy didn't have lessons. In the end it had been Daphne who had taken it upon herself to teach Tracy how to read and write. But for Daphne there were expectations along with many other complications. At age ten there were many complications in her life that she became distracted with, and since their arrival at Hogwarts it all became painfully obvious.
Daphne resented her parents a little for not warning her, for letting her remain ignorant of the world. Of course it was never her that paid the price for it. She watched as Tracy happily joined her at the Slytherin table, and how in all but a few weeks began the apparent mistreatment from the older students began.
"It is just the way the world is, I'm sorry Daphne." Her mother said softly to her she sat on her bed, brushing her hair. It was Christmas eve during her first year when she had returned home. Tracy's clothes had gone missing the day before they departed. Daphne and Tracy spent the entire day and night trying to retrieve them, with no luck. It had been one of the rare times Daphne was flustered and angrily shed a tear but Tracy had been the one to smile and tell her it didn't matter.
After that Daphne could no longer believe the world should work as it did. With everything she had gone through the years before, at the tender age of eleven she had already grown bitter with contempt. Her parents had left Daphne to find out how cruel the world was on her own and to decide for herself what was right and what was wrong. She had been given her their history and their way of life; and she had been given Tracy, left with a choice hanging between the two.
"So how was your session with our most tragic champion?" Tracy said in a hushed but gleeful voice her grin stretched wide.
"It went well." Daphne said thoughtfully, purposefully giving a short answer.
"What, just well? That's not enough Daph. Come on, I need details so don't starve a girl what happened?" Tracy asked greedily.
Daphne smiled at the complaint, enjoying withholding the knowledge from her friend. Tracy had a hunger for news that rivalled Pansy's thirst for gossip, which wasn't exactly a bad trait. It meant she came by a lot of information, although none of it was really that useful, occasionally there was always something.
"Nothing much we just studied ancient runes, had a little talk, nothing of excitement and adventure I can tell you." Daphne gave her another gentle smile.
"I don't believe that for a second, so what is he like then, the dashing hero from the stories? As morose as the papers say, or the arrogant rat that Draco and Snape claim him to be?" Daphne remained silent. "None of the above? Really? That's interesting." Tracy continued reading Daphne's silence with ease.
"And you did you cope without me?" Daphne asked.
"Always, my dear. Dog came over earlier though, demanding I tell him where you disappeared to." Tracy said with a disgusted expression as she glanced across the common room making sure no one heard her.
"How did you handle it?" Daphne kept most of the concern out of her voice out of habit.
"Pretty well, I channelled your bitch face and promptly told him to fuck off." She said her expression shifting to an easy smile.
"I'm just welling with pride." Daphne said dryly.
"He looked like he might start something, but Blaise and Theo were with me so it was fine. Seriously though Daph you need to be rid of that wart as soon as possible." Tracy said her voice dropping.
"Tracey stop worrying about him." Daphne said calmly, reflecting her entire disposition.
"I can't not worry about him sniffing after you like he does. What if he-"
"Tracey there is nothing he can do. Honestly you have a better chance at getting in me in a wedding dress that that inbred troll spawn." Daphne said with a frosty voice.
"If Astoria hears you she'll be positively delighted." Tracey pulled a smirk with the waggle of an eyebrow.
"You can stop that; I have a plan, it's a working plan but it'll succeed." Daphne said touching Tracey's arm.
Daphne knew Tracy hated the fact she couldn't relax out in the common room without either her or Theo there in case. Blaise was dangerous and good in a pinch but unfortunately didn't hold quiet as much respect to avoid a confrontation altogether if anyone from the older years decided to single her out.
"You have plans inside of plans I am sure. I guess you aren't going to tell me about it, just that I'll have to wait and see?" Daphne nodded and Tracy groaned. "I just want to hex his bits off already, the way he looks at you just makes my skin crawl."
Daphne just laughed. She was in agreement though; Since Josef Lautner was obsessed with her. Or more truthfully he was obsessed with what she represented now that she wasn't far off from marrying age. The Greengrasses were a highly influential family with immeasurable wealth and she was an heiress, the next in line to be the head of the household and the organisation ran by her father. Daphne despised such mindless greed and she didn't plan to have the likes of him hounding her for much longer and being a nuisance.
"Speaking of hexes that reminds me - Pansy is in the hospital wing. She got hit in the face with a spell by your new friend, gave her all sorts of ghastly boils. Who knew he had it in him?" Tracy bubbled happily "and that's not even the best bit. She tried to get Crabbe and Goyle to counter it, but they just made it worse! Ha, the boils opened up in little baby spiders. Sounds absolutely horrifying, Pansy was so mortified she couldn't speak about it so Potter walked free and Crabbe and Goyle are in detention for - Oh what was it? oh yes 'an overabundance of stupidity and infringement to the definition of incompetence' I could hardly breathe." Tracy's grin was merciless; Daphne almost expected a full blown cackle to erupt from her.
"How did this happen?" Daphne asked frowning.
"Come on you're not actually feeling sorry for Parkinson are you? I know you've known her a long time but even Millie giggled a bit when I told her. From what I know though, she was mouthing off to Granger about that hilarious article Skeeta wrote that has them both wound up so tight."
Daphne lips twitched. "Well, I suppose she had it coming. So what else has happened?"
"Nothing much to be honest. I've just been reading this, it is literally killing me." Tracy lifted up her book with a dark look in her eye.
"Ah, and how are you coming along?"
"I don't know why you're making me read it if you and Theo already know it off by heart, you were schooled with this stuff right? That private tutoring your parents had you doing?" Tracy handed Daphne the book.
"It is important you know the families, which ones hold the power and which want to take it from them." Daphne said as her eyes fell to the leather bindings. Her lessons had gone far beyond teachings of ancestry and history.
The thick black lettering of 'The Pureblood Directory' was written across the front and a picture of a three drops of faded red decorated with rosemaling on an elaborate coat of arms. Although it was written anonymously, Theodore had confirmed Daphne's suspicions that it was written by his grand-father Cantakerus Nott.
"All a part of that grand master plan of yours no doubt. I thought I managed to talk you out of whatever it is over the summer, but nooo you just aren't satisfied with a quiet life are you?" Tracey jibed with a pointed look.
"A quiet life, with you Tracey? You must be joking." Daphne shot back playfully.
"Have it your way then oh fair and cruel mistress of mine. I'll need you to explain some of it to me then, the bloodlines mixing with the sacred twenty eight and the changing of ancient and noble houses has got me all confused." Tracey rested the back of her hand on her head as if she was exhausted and about to faint.
"Okay Fine then, I'll go through any questions you have." Daphne said with a small sigh, she stood and tucked the book in one arm then pulled Tracy from her lounger.
Their girl's dormitories were dimly lit with candles set in dark purple wax that was scented with berries. Black and green silk bed sheets with silver fixings matched the hangings that decorated the walls and if you were quiet you could hear the soft lapping of the Black Lake that could lull the tired students to sleep effortlessly.
Daphne led Tracy to her four poster bed. She threw her robe on its hanger and proceeded to draw her curtains and cast several additional silencing and privacy charms around them as they climbed onto the silk sheets.
"Right what seems to be the problem?" Daphne then asked getting comfortable by sitting with crossed legs opposite her friend. She removed her hairband and shook her hair loose, letting it fall freely.
"Well, I'll start with 'The Sacred Twenty-Eight'… While I was reading it I couldn't see half of the names on that list belonging to those in Slytherin, so I couldn't help but think does that mean everyone in Slytherin is just pretending?"
"No, there are only twenty-eight truly pureblood families. That means there's not one drop of half-blood or muggle blood in them. That's why he calls them 'sacred'. Pretentious git. Everyone in here just acts entitled even when though they aren't, if a half blood and pureblood have a child, then the child is considered a pureblood, even if the family isn't."
"I see, so once they've lost that status, it's gone forever?"
"Yes. It is why lesser families are always looking up trying to get in with them, you looked up your family right?"
"Figures they'd end up in Slytherin. And I did, my dad's grandmother was a Burke she was the one who moved to New Orleans."
"And branch families?"
"I now know that the Abbots and Bones' are close cousins on one side, and have been forever. The Diggorys are also what you call a branch family they are the second branch of the Bones'? The Blacks had a few in the past, like their secondary line but more distant but now mainly rely on their secondary line, which is Draco and his mother. It all seems like nonsense to me right now."
"It is important for later on." Daphne said.
"For later she says, you said Potter's family was important too, and that was more confusing than all of them."
"So you read up on the Potters line?" Daphne asked. She looked at Tracy with narrow eyes. She hadn't told her to do that.
"I tried, they're all considered purebloods before Harry, but they don't appear on the Sacred Twenty-Eight list. Were they the first blood traitors? Even the Weasleys made it on there." Tracey noted.
"No one really knows. Could have been exiled for a while, maybe old Nott had a feud with them, most likely someone a few generations before did marry a muggle. All Potters like their secrets apparently; you won't find anything in the library on their family either." Daphne shrugged feigning disinterest, as if she hadn't spent a good week herself researching whether it could have been possible for Harry to have been the heir of Slytherin in their second year.
"Meaning you've already looked." Tracery grinned.
Daphne like all wizarding children had grown up with the legend of Harry Potter, most were familiar with the fictional books under the titled under 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' series, probably to avoid liable and being sued. Even when she was at a young age and her love for literature, Daphne preferred more substantial reading material.
So in her curiosity she had searched for facts, cold hard truth. However the only Potter that appeared in the pages of anything remotely factual in the last eighty years was the brief account of Harry with the rise and fall of Lord Voldemort. The only recurring detail was that Harry survived and the dark lord fell, the rest was speculation no matter whether you read 'Modern Magical Britain' or 'Notable Magical Names of Our Time'.
"Of course I've already looked." Daphne admitted reluctantly.
"All of them? Well, that's of no help. Why is it important then if they aren't in the twenty eight?" Tracey said not missing the way she said 'all'.
"Well did you follow the lineage?" Daphne asked. Perhaps she had become a little obsessed about it at the time, but she hated failures, which led her to look back further in time using the books in her library she had once not cared for. It really did feel like a lifetime ago.
"I… what?" Tracey said taken aback.
"Typical… where is it? Page seventy-something, here yes." Daphne murmured softly to herself over the book.
"Ancient and Noble Houses? You're not turning into Draco are you?" Tracy teased.
"The Ancient and Noble Houses are named as such because they can be traced all the way back to the start of the eleventh century if not before." Daphne said, ignoring the jape and continuing to enlighten her best friend. "They're important Tracey because they founded magical Britain. They hold the most power in the Wizengamot. Greengrass is one of the remaining families. Gwyrdd Tylwyth Dyffryn, Clan of the Green Valley we were known as before we moved more and more inland as the centuries pressed on. There used to be fifty Noble houses with their branch families at court and wizard's council. Now there are only nine."
"Which is what you meant by the surviving nine, so with these houses dying out those in the Twenty Eight are rising up... so there will be shifts of power in the wizengamot." Tracy muttered.
"Precisely, it isn't really common knowledge unless you're really into this stuff, like the old Notts were. Theo said the Ministry has a lot of records dating back centuries under lock and key. So you see here, House Potter wasn't established until the late fourteenth century. But it's still named as an ancient and noble house, confusing right? Well that's wrong. See the insignia - the coat of arms is mixture between the Ancient and Noble House of Figulus and House Peverell. Ignotus -see here- was rather famous I think, must have married the first and only born daughter of House Figulus. Likely when there was no heir apparent, it is bound to happen sometime."
Daphne knew from experience, being from one of these families as one of two daughters. Whereas Astoria was doted on she was held to responsibility. She thought about what that certainly meant for her future.
"Their son and heir continued the line and changed the name from its latin meaning to Potter. I see, so that means they don't automatically fall into the twenty-eight just because they are the oldest families in Britain? So along with your house, there are the Potters, Blacks, Notts, Bones, who are also not in the twenty eight, Selwyns, Malfoys, and two other surviving families of the Ancient and Noble Houses."
"Correct, the Crouches, as in Barty Crouch and someone who carries the line of Gaunt."
"It doesn't say?" Tracy said flicking through the pages of 'The Pureblood Directory' once more and tracing a finger down the family tree and stopping.
"Only that the line isn't dead, it was written in the nineteen-thirties remember so it's a bit out of date. I double checked 'Nature's Nobility' Gaunt hasn't gone extinct yet in there either. Last named is a Marvolo Gaunt. I asked Theo and he said he had no idea what happened with the line but he did some research for me, they 'officially' died out over thirty years ago. There was big deal about some murders or something – Marvolo's son Morfin went to Azkaban childless and died - but the shields in the book turn to black when the line completely fails, so old Nott must be mistaken or someone high up made a few lies."
"That's weird." Tracy muttered, Daphne nodded in agreement.
"They must have some relation abroad or someone is missing, the family trees in here aren't completely reliable. There's a fair amount of guess work involved, that or you'd need access to ministry records to find out sadly. But it makes me think there was something amiss about the whole affair." Daphne said. It didn't sit right with her but she put the thoughts out of her mind. As far as she was concerned the Gaunts were another cautionary tale of a pureblood family dying out.
When they finished Tracy retreated out of her bed and they began to get ready to retire for the evening.
Daphne stopped and looked at the new addition to the dorm room.
"Millie, we didn't hear you come in." Tracey greeted the girl, hopping onto her own bed.
"I was quiet. What were you doing behind the curtains?" The square faced girl barely looked up from the magazine she was reading.
"Just talking in private." Daphne said coolly walking out of the dormitory and into the wash room. Millicent watched her suspiciously.
"Nothing untoward I swear." Tracey said smiling. The auburn haired witch kicked off her shoes and began to change. "What are you reading?"
"The piece on Draco and Potter. They're giving odds can you believe it, five hundred to one on Draco and Potter." The other girl snorted holding up the magazine, shot of Harry Potter and Draco's half cropped faces set glaring like they were mirror images.
"Oh Daph will love that, anything else good in there?" Tracey her eyes glinted mischievously. She enjoyed speaking with Millicent, when Pansy wasn't there to direct the entire conversation to herself at least.
"Dodge Kutler is doing some modelling work for Arcturus's new winter line."
"Mmm I wouldn't say no." Tracey smiled impishly with her hand outstretched as Millicent passed her the publication. Tracey's eyes danced on the page approvingly before passing it back.
"Not got Zabini on your mind any more then? It's been almost painful to watch."
Tracey sat with her mouth agape at Millicent. "P-painful?" she spluttered.
"She is winding you up. I always snap you out of your little daydreams when he walks by." Daphne said entering again. She stood in her silk night clothes and robe, with a towel folded under her arm she put her worn uniform in her wash basket. "Friends don't let friends drool in public."
"Daphne you've failed rather miserably if that's the case." Millicent said once more peering over her magazine again. Daphne just smiled wickedly.
"You are the worst." Tracey groaned laying her head down on her pillow dramatically.
"What about you Millie? Has no one caught your eye?" Daphne asked.
Millicent's eyes widened for a moment, the question hurtling the insecure witch into a corner.
"I- well, I suppose, but it doesn't matter." She said rather quickly.
"Oh you can't grill me about Blaise and then retreat like that Millie, now spill." Tracey said dangerously.
She realised she had already dug herself into a hole.
"Farley." Millicent squeaked, which was such a pitiably unusual sound coming from the large boned girl.
"Dustul? Oh Millie you can aim better than that." Daphne said kindly.
"That's easy for you to say. We all know whose attention you have." Millicint said rather bluntly with a pointed look.
"Millie if I had boys looking at me for my looks I'd be over the moon. All Lautner sees when he looks at me is a dynasty, political power and an inheritance." Daphne said looking away.
"And a tight behind. But that's not who-" Tracey added with brilliantly crooked smile.
"Tracey." Daphne warned coldly. "Not a word." Daphne's eyes bored into her best friends who promptly shut her mouth.
"How do you keep doing that?" Millicent wondered aloud but no answer came. The strange ability seemed almost supernatural to her but Daphne made shutting up the chatter-box Tracy an everyday phenomenon.
Daphne proceeded to promptly bid the other two good night. She drew her curtains once more and fell onto her sheets and closed her eyes. Thinking about wizarding nobility had given Daphne a head ache. Nobility she wanted to laugh at the thought.
Virtus sola nobilitas. Had been her Father's parting words to her before she left back for Hogwarts after the Christmas in Daphne's first year. Of course she had to discover what he meant by it on her own. He was a firm believer in the best education being the things you learn yourself, an annoying habit to be sure. Eventually she managed to figure it out. Only to find him to be the world's greatest hypocrite.
She had yet to witness any virtue expressed by the so called wizarding nobility, not even by her father.
Daphne let her thoughts wonder to the upcoming Saturday. It made it easier that Harry was endearingly likeable. She didn't care much for tall tales and rumours. Nor did she really care for his unrivalled skill in quidditch, as impressive as it was. She remembered how she witnessed him throw off Moody's Imperius curse - now that she found impressive. But what she liked most was that he was modest, he liked to laugh and oddly he made her want to laugh.
Daphne approved of all of those qualities. Perhaps there was one virtuous wizard she could describe as noble - in his own way.
Dumbledore sat quietly in his study, leaning back into his headmaster's chair. Around him the portraits of his predecessors snoozed lazily, the soft sound of their breathing was like clockwork ticking in time with his various trinkets and artefacts. Beside the aging wizard sat his phoenix Fawkes who trilled softly.
As soothing as Albus Dumbledore's surroundings were his head was still in turmoil. A chaos of thoughts, theories and possibilities factored into his mind one after another, where he quickly reviewed, dismissed or filed them for later. He sighed heavily, cursed with a brilliant mind and somehow found it less helpful than ever. He was missing something so painfully obvious, something that had to be staring at him in the face laughing beyond his crooked nose.
Abruptly he stood up and wearily stood over his pensieve. His blue eyes reflected in the liquid, with a careful and steady hand he raised his wand and drew out a memory, casting the silver thread into the basin.
He watched as the images of the court took place in the liquid. Igor Karkaroff, Ludo Bagman. Both men had gone free now roamed the castle freely. In his heart he knew Bagman was no threat, no more harmful as he was just unlucky at the time. Igor on the other hand had become too much of a coward to do anything but try to save his own skin, still fear can be a powerful motive and one widely employed by the dark lord.
What worried Dumbledore the most were the hearings of Rabastan, Rudolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange that flashed before him. The staunchest supporters and vilest of criminals, true souls who would see Harry Potter dead without hesitation, maybe even the son of a man who walked free, even Bellatrix wouldn't care for her own blood if it meant serving her master. Any one of them could have escaped, but not quietly.
He found himself sitting in the courtroom once more, staring at the empty chair with chains, as Barty Crouch Jr. was dragged into the room screaming. The boy was barely twenty, a boy begging his father not to send him away. The breaking of Bartemius Crouch Sr.
Dumbledore watched sadly, sat next to the memory of Alastor Moody as the boy cried out for his mother while his charges were read out to the court.
"I'm your son! I'm YOUR SON!"
How things could have turned out differently if Crouch had paid a little more attention to his boy. A truly brilliant and gifted son, he had been a Hufflepuff in school. Fiercely loyal but did not lack the talent for deceit. Dumbledore shook his head forlorn at where that allegiance had taken him.
The boy begged for his life to the face of his own father in order to be free to serve the dark lord. A hunger for something evil burned in him. Dumbledore could see it with his twinkling blue eyes, if only faintly, the mad glint in Crouch Jr's eye. It was a conviction beyond reason, seeking another way, refusing to accept that this would be the end of his dark ambitions.
It had been a sequence of tragic events. The death of the Potters and the fall of Voldemort indirectly, or directly led to the torture of the Longbottoms, it all felt like fates cruel chain of misfortune, a war won and losses on both sides still coming as unstoppable as a tide.
If Crouch Sr. had not had his heart broken that day, he may not have grown so merciless in the pursuit of preserving the Ministry. But Barty was changed after that and it only got worse, first the boy died and then his wife. He grew unpopular and out of favour out of war. Now since the world cup – since the mark, he had been rattled, memories of old resurfaced for them all it seemed. He grew paler by the week and Dumbledore was worried.
Suddenly he was face to face with the department head of Magical Law Enforcement. He hated that long day in November, so much death so much chaos burdening the joy of the end of a war. A war he suspected was far from over.
The dark marble walls and golden furnishings gleamed too brightly in that Ministry office. An illusion of grandeur neither he nor Crouch cared for.
"Barty you must release him! He is innocent." The memory of Dumbledore urged. "I have my doubts as to whether he was even their secret keeper."
"I can't do that Albus, there were witnesses! Thirteen dead! Pettigrew…The proof is indisputable." Barty Crouch sat behind his desk with his brittle moustache sat on his upper lip in a taut scowl.
"The proof is unreliable; they were muggles Barty, they don't know what they saw. Even if you looked into their minds it counts for nothing. I was with him that morning. Sirius went after Pettigrew first; it wasn't him who betrayed the Potters, he was the best man at their wedding!" Dumbledore placed his hands on the desk with a stern gaze.
"Murder is still murder. There was nothing but a finger left of Pettigrew and Black was laughing when we brought him in. Hysterical - like a mad-man. The Blacks are a well known family of supporters of Dark Arts Albus, they hate muggles, their beliefs-"
"And Sirius was cast out of his family for not sharing in those beliefs. He was one of mine. He and James were as close as brothers, his only real family had just been murdered, the boy was supposed to go him. You're condemning an innocent man into Azkaban to appease the public because it already appeared in the Prophet? Because the Ministry can't be seen as infallible? This isn't justice if he doesn't stand trial Bartemius." Dumbledore's eyes were no longer twinkling but looked down upon the department head.
"My decision is final. This is my jurisdiction. The dark lord has fallen and the war is over, you're no longer needed Albus. Now have you found a suitable home for the boy?" Barty asked an expression as hard as steel, unbending under the headmaster's gaze.
Dumbledore paused for a moment. The Longbottoms were left catatonic, Remus would have been his next ideal candidate, but werewolf laws would restrict any such guardianship unless it is a direct descendant. If the ministry had their way Harry would go to his closest living wizarding relatives, the Blacks, bar Sirius.
Arcturus nor Lucretia wouldn't have him. Which meant that meant Bellatrix who was the oldest, but thankfully that problem solved itself. Unfortunately Andromeda was no longer seen as a Black and had no legal claim. Which left Narcissa the third and youngest sister who had her own son, it was possible she could care for him, but her husband was most certainly a chief Death Eater. Sending him to them could be potentially just as catastrophic as it would be to Bellatrix. Even if Narcissa grew to love the child as her own, Lucius would hand him over to the Dark Lord as soon as he rose back to power if he didn't outright kill him straight away. Or worse yet - raise him truly as his own.
Dumbledore was left with the only option of leaving Harry hidden with his closest living relatives, protected by Lily's sacrifice. He wondered if she had known what she had been doing. Lily Evans was smart beyond her age but she and Petunia hadn't spoken in years. It could very well have just been an accident, that piece of magic. Unless it was something that went far beyond mere luck.
"He'll be safe. But he would have been infinitely better off with his godfather." Dumbledore said gravely turning his back on Barty.
AN- Thanks to my beta drscot.
Added more info on the grimoire
One part may be confusing because I chose explicitly not to say what was going on. It was where Daphne and Harry were leaving the library.
'There is a time for many words, and there is also a time for sleep.'
'Sleep, delicious and profound, the very counterfeit of death'
though you may have got the jist of it, here they are actually quoting Homer's Odyssey- more literature stuff.
Not as much Draco as I'd like but I couldn't really fit him in in the Slytherin common room scene. So more of him next chapter.
Virtus sola nobilitas - Virtue is the only nobility.
As with with the timeline of memories at the end. those memories are in chronological order taking place after the 31st october 1981. Harry is said to have gone to the Dursely's straight away on nov 1st. in my au canon here i like to think this happened over the course of a couple of days. so everyone could be arrested, followed by Sirius going to azkaban so Dumbledore could at least try to argue Sirius' case before resigning to leaving Harry with the Dursley's for good.
As for the pureblood directory, and the Gaunts - Merope was thought of little more than a squib, so I think it makes sense that her presence wasn't acknowledged by her father requiring ministry birth records to even know she existed, hence why she doesn't appear in the directory, in my mind's eye I imagine there to be family trees written in hand because of the time. And as the official records in the ministry say the Gaunts were all dead. Which leads Daphne and Theo into asking some dangerous questions.