Heirs of Slytherin

So, I don't own Harry Potter...Damn.

Thanks to those who have reviewed.

Previously...

"Are Joy and Dean your only siblings?" Mr. Weasley asked.

Jim shook his head. "No, I've got two other brothers, but they were murdered by Riddle in 79'." He frowned as he noticed everyone seemed shocked by this. "You may find this surprising, but my family doesn't want that power-loving asshole back either."

No one says anything after this, not that anyone needed to.

August, 1995

Riley Steward was seen inside the kitchen, sitting under the table as she carefully sewed up the old plush doll she had found in her basement a few months ago. It was missing an eye and had a creepy lined smile, something that made Riley smile. She knew that she was too old for the toy and was far too damaged at the moment for any proper use, but she wanted to fix it up. She figured that it must have belonged to her father's cousin, Lorna Chandler, who died when she was only 12-years-old. Or it may have been Artemisia's, Lorna's mother, doll. It was old and moldy, but clearly once loved dearly. Too bad her great-great-grandfather had to kill Lorna and her twin brother, Daniel. Their ghosts were nice, but they always seemed sad to her about not being able to grow up or even move on to wherever people went when they died. Maybe this doll will cheer Lorna up a little when Riley returned home, and maybe that will cheer Danny up as well. Then again, maybe not since Lorna was far too old for the doll and it seemed next to impossible to cheer up a boy whose mouth had been sewn shut in order to prevent him from screaming.

She briefly wondered if the doll belonged to Theodora Steward, despite hearing the stories about the dead girl hating dolls. Maybe she hid the creepy doll in the basement. Riley had found a lot of her things down there, but only the doll appeared to be hidden. She probably should ask Peter about the doll later and if it was Theodora's or not. He would know. Riley knows that her brother knows a lot more than what he lets on.

"They don't seem too bad, do they?" Riley heard the lady with the cool hair, Tonks, say. When did she come in?

"Not entirely, no," Mrs. Weasley said, though she didn't sound too happy. "I don't like that they're here though. They're related to You-Know-Who, for all we know they could be spying on us for him."

"He murdered two of Steward's brother's," Tonks pointed out. "There's definitely more to the story though, you have me there."

"I wonder why none of us ever even heard about the Steward's until now," Mrs. Weasley said. "I wonder how Professor Dumbledore met them."

Riley rolled her eyes and tuned the two women out as she continued to work on the strange looking doll in her hands. Riley bitterly wondered why people loved to gossip about her family. They weren't the most interesting family, odd, but not in the slightest interesting.

It was always easy for Peter to hide. Whether it be in his family's old and haunted home, or in Sirius Black's old and dingy one. People tend to forget about him, which he prefers. It gives him time to think without any interruptions.

He was staring down at the locket he had been given by the house-elf. It was absolutely ugly and old, but it had a charm of its own in a way. He knew it was Salazar Slytherin's locket. He had heard stories about the locket, how the Gaunt's had taken possession of the jewelry. He also knew how it could only be opened by using Parseltongue. Peter was tempted to open but knew better than to do it, especially since it feels weird. He can feel the negative energy encased within the locket. It's vile and raw, it makes him want to throw it everytime he picks it up, or worse put it on and let it stay.

Peter knows that he had to tell his father.

The teenager sighs before getting up and putting the locket at the bottom of his backpack. He'll tell his father once everything's calmed down with his family and the Order.

He could hear the other teenagers in the room, the four Weasley's, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger. A twinge of sadness develops in him, he'd like to go and talk to them, but he knew how they felt about him and his family. A bunch of overpopulated snakes, to them they were.

Peter understood his family and their history, he just couldn't understand why people had to judge them all on the actions of a few family members. It was peculiar to him. He didn't blame every no-maj for what had happened during the Twelvetrees-Barebone affair of 1790, if anything he only blamed the dimwitted witch for talking about magic and their world to a no-maj man who had descended from a group of Scourers, wizards who had intergraded within the no-maj society after performing many crimes against fellow wizards.

He looks up as he hears a knock at the door. His mother's head pops in. "C'mon, Pete. We're gonna help the Order clean this place up."

"By the Order, you really mean the Weasley's, Sirius Black, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter?" Peter questioned.

Diana rolled her eyes at the teenager. "Let's go, you need to interact with your peers. This will be a good thing."

"You always say that," Peter muttered as he walked past his mother. "It has yet to happen though."

Jim's never liked politics. Hated them, is a more proper word to describe it really. He's never been one to really listen to any governmental official, has been that way ever since he was a boy. A grade-A little punk he had been during his youth, it drove both of his parents up the walls. His mother once accused him, along with his siblings less than legal decisions, being among the seemingly many reasons as to why his father, Stephen, had killed himself when Jim was 17. Never once did his mother ever see any good in him or any of his siblings. He was particularly grateful to see his mother dead before Matt and Peter, as awful as it was to say. He loved his mother, but he simply just didn't like her.

Jim was waiting for the Potter boy's trial to be done and over with. He had some things to discuss with old Fudgie, something he'd rather not be doing. Jim waited with Arthur Weasley, who seemed like a good man. He clearly loved his family, something Jim could relate to.

"I understand that you've got a son who doesn't believe Riddle's back," Jim said to Arthur, hoping to pass the time without complete silence.

Arthur frowns, but sighs and nods. "Percy, my third son. Always been an arrogant and ambitious one. Never gave me or my wife any trouble up until this summer." He frowned and looked at Jim. "How would your family react to one of your own betraying you all?"

"In my family, betrayal is one of the many taboo subjects we have, and it always has dire consequences. Whenever a Steward makes a promise, we always keep that promise." Jim sighed and looked away from Arthur. "When we first become parents, there's always an unspoken promise we make to our children, if we fail to raise a Steward who is full of rage and hate, then we are to take everything from that child personally. My great-great-grandmother had done so to my great-grandfather, who had been her only surviving child at that point. She had failed to see what her son had become until he had murdered two of his great-grandchildren, my cousins."

"What had she done to your great-grandfather?" Arthur asked, confusion writing itself on his face.

"She poisoned him and buried his body in the yard like a dog," Jim nonchalantly replied. He sighed and looked at the Weasley patriarch. "What I'm trying to say is-don't let your son's betrayal eat you up, and certainly don't kill him or anything extreme like that. Your son is your responsibility, as are all members of your family."

"And do you consider You-Know-Who your family?"

Jim frowned bitterly. "We share blood, but it doesn't make him family, and yet it does. To me, that makes him mine and my family's responsibility." A dark look crosses the handsome man's face. "Our mistake that has yet to be disposed of properly." His eyes glanced over at the door to Harry's courtroom. "My brother's, they fully believed that but didn't understand that they couldn't just rush in and kill the bastard without any planning. Matthew and Peter, they had been both smart and stupid." He sighed as he looked down at his hands. "It takes a long time for a man to put a noose around his neck before kicking the bucket. Both components and a lot of damn patience for it to be successful. My brothers-they went in with just the bucket but not the rope. Damn fools, they were, but brave fools they had been."

Soon enough, the trial's finally over. Jim watches as Dumbledore first leaves, followed by Fudge and the members of Wizengamont, and then finally Harry Potter himself. Judging by the look on Fudge's face, the boy clearly won.

"And Fudge," Jim continued as he stood, not really giving a damn if Arthur had understood a single word he had said or not. "Is a piñata that's about to be busted open by a spiked bat."

Jim watched as Fudge muttered angerly behind his over-shined desk.

"Normally, you're less foolish than you are now, Fudgie," Jim retorted as he observed the wizard, who glared at him.

"You have a lot of nerve saying that to be, Steward."

Jim bit back a chuckle. "Am I now? Who died and made you Minister, Minister?"

"Why are you even here, Steward?" Fudge demanded, glaring at the man who held a lot of influence in his country.

"I've heard rumors of my damn cousin making a reappearance once again," Jim answered as he leaned back, making himself comfortable. "And that you blindly refute that."

"Of course I do, it's mad to think that You-Know-

"Voldemort, Fudgie," Jim corrected as he waved a finger in disappointment. "It's one thing to be afraid of the bastard, it's another to be afraid of his stupid moniker. It's not even a good one, hardly anyone with barely functioning brains can properly spell it for Merlin's sake. You know-"

"He's not back!" Fudge exclaimed, glaring angerly at Jim as he pounded his fist against his desk.

"Real professional, is it your slogan for the next campaign season?"

"Steward!"

Jim chuckled. "I've heard about this year's Defense professor for Hogwarts, I must say it's a rather bad choice."

"What?"

Jim ignored the confused wizard as he continued. "Umbitch has no experience as a teacher, nor does she pass any requirements to be a Defense teacher. Honestly, none of the Aurors were available? I'm well aware of how you're starting to become short-handed with them, but fu-"

"Do shut up," Fudge growled rather pathetically. "Dolores Umbridge is perfectly qualified for the position, Mr. Steward. No Aurors were available simply because it's below their pay grade-

"So Umbitch is getting paid more as a teacher than a Ministry employee, how wonderful," Jim sarcastically interrupted with a mischevious smirk on his face. 'Especially given the fact that she's apart of Wizengamont and whatever the hell it is she does for the rest of the day." His face suddenly became very serious as he leaned just inches away from Fudge. "If anything happens to my children whilst they are attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, do understand that it will be your head I come for first, Cornelius." Leaning back before standing, cold, dark blue eyes rest on Fudge. "And do understand that I only make promises, never any threats."

Without another word, Jim left the office of Cornelius Fudge.

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Until next time...