The Fae smiled at the three boys on the bridge. He had enjoyed coming to powerful individuals and laying ruin upon them. After all... they put ruin on the Fae, and the more inter-human wars the better. They might stem the ridiculous growth rate humans had. They bred like... parasite.

He had a long, black cloak. A silvery skull mask. A Scythe.

"Well Done... you have escaped where many didn't." The Fae told the three. He told them that they could each request a single gift. They would each have a terrible curse- no one with a gift would have a peaceful life, and the owner of the first two would die violent deaths. Then, because Curses needed Hidden "Blessings", the Fae added another side - If someone with Fae Blood had all three objects, that person would be King of the Fae... and after his death, all three objects would loose their power.

The first brother asked for an unbeatable wand. So the Fae took a stick of wood. It would heighten the reflexes of the person to a ridiculous amount, and it would magnify the person's magic quiet a lot. It also boosted self-confidence...

He would be arrogant, he'd die a violent death, and wars would be fought over the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny.

The second brother asked for a stone to speak to the dead with. That was impossible - who spoke to the Dead? So, the stone would pull images out of the person's mind, and make the 'dead' say a mixture of what the person expected and wanted to hear.

It would drive him mad and to suicide... it would drive most of its owners to suicide, but it would be wanted. Massacres made over the Resurrection Stone.

And the last brother... wanted to hide...? Alright. An invisibility cloak. The fae took out his baby blanket and enchanted it.

It would make him invisible, but it would attract trouble. In hoards. It would give the person luck, and help, but it would attract trouble and attention. A lot of attention... not to the cloak, but to the person wearing it.

The people with the cloak were the ones who fought the wars, they were the martyrs. Whoever could combine all three would be king. The Fae went home and was congratulated on his prank on the humans.

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Harry Potter opened the door to the compartment in the Hogwarts Express. They had overslept and arrived just as the barrier was closing - Harry and Tonks had flown through at a run, and while Tonks was storing the trunks, Harry had gone to see his friend.

"Hey, Blaise! Listen, I'm gonna terrify the Firsties-" In other words, get them to sign contracts that force them to be nice - "I'll be back in, what, two hours? Listen, there's a girl, her name's Luna, and."

And.

And.

Harry had seen her with her father, and she was broken. Her father, too, was broken, but far less so. He was coping. And she wasn't. And she had some sort of fae connection; nothing too big, no fae blood, but. A connection. Perhaps an ancestor saved a fae's life. But Dubhshlain had seen it. It was written into her face, her aura. She had seen something terrible, and he had to help her because his people owed her because she saved one of them. It was in her blood.

"She's so... broken. Something terrible happened. So please help her. I'm going to bring her to you, and I need you to help her." Oh, she saved a life, but she wasn't fae. Too human for a connection that Luna needed, that he couldn't give.

Blaise gaped. What do you say to something like that? "Oh, there's a scared traumatized kid and you're gonna help her, OK?" How do you answer that?

Harry turned around, and pulled Luna into the compartment. She had a simple pale green shirt, and a pleated black skirt. Her hair had feathers and random braids and beads and her eyes were wide and her face was blank.

Too blank. Blaise knew that look. It was the look of his uncle; who had seen his brother die when he was five. His brother was seven.

It was the face his mother had for two years, seven weeks and two days, when she watched his father bleed to death.

It was the glance of his half brother, Fabrizio, when he had seen their grandfather shoot his nephew; Fabrizio's uncle. Because that uncle was a threat. Blaise didn't know why.

And, oh, mio Dio, Blaise had that look; he had worn it when his little sister, little Sorella, Bice, his Bice! She cried, he could feel her tears oh his shoulder still; and, and,

Mio Dio, this Luna had the same expression. Blaise was lost.

"My name is Blaise Zabini." His voice was soft, gentle. Really, it was alright for Zabinis to train minions, didn't his grandfather say that? She could be a minion, and so his mother and Famiglia would allow him to protect this little wisp of a girl and her big grey eyes. Because honestly, he had been trained to see emotions and this girl was very much broken.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he continued, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles, before pulling her into the seat next to him. And she gave a small smile, and Blaise Zabini was lost, because Bice had give him that look before - before -

Bice!

"I'm Luna. Blaze is like a comet, you know, a bright streak of light across a really dark sky with stars that you can't really see because there are too many cloud-filled nights in England."

Harry smiled, and quickly put the same spell over the two of them that Tonks had put over Ron, Draco and Hermione a year ago. On the train ride, Luna and Blaise would be honest with each other and would trust each other. After all, Blaise also needed to open up.

In another compartment, Colin Creevy was being entertained by Ginny Weasely. Oh... they were talking about him. About how Hufflepuff had to be the best house if Harry Potter was in it. Harry stupefied them, and wrote out the following contract:

We, the signers of the contract, agree to the following: During our Hogwarts years, we will do our best not to judge anyone based on their fame, house, beauty, blood status, political power, or social status. We will also do our best to get an EE or an O in every class. We will do our best in the DADA training rooms. In return, I, Dubhshlain, the writer of the contract, agree not to murder the singers of the contract during their Hogwarts years.

Then, he woke up Colin, gave him a quill, and told him to sign. Gaping at the famous boy, Colin signed the contract. Then, Ginny signed. There was a long moment after Harry left.

"So... he's famous because of something he did when he was a kid? Um... we don't even know if he's nice..."

"Yeah. So. What classes are you looking forward to?"

Harry smiled. The rest of the first years had all quickly signed the same contract as he took it from compartment to compartment, letting them copy down the basics so they won't forget.

The Sortings were going to be more and more interesting, after all, students were judging based on Houses anymore - which meant students who were cunning went to Slythering, not those who hated Gryffindor.

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Angelia looked at the boy who went from compartment to compartment. She had hated him from the beginning. First of all, he was Hufflepuff, almost Slytherin, and he was supposed to be a GRYFFINDOR!

Second, she had figured it out: that traitor had been telling Firsties that houses don't matter, and they did! There was a REASON no one liked Snakes; You-Know-Who was from that house! They couldn't trust a house like THAT! And Dumbledore was a Gryff; so clearly, their house was the best - and if Potter was a Puff, then Potter was a wimp. Really!

And - and - Oh! He had ruined the Twins! They were fun-loving and alive and Gryffindor! They were wild and reckless and she had loved Fred. Now... now... he was still fun-loving. But his Gryffindor was gone, and she had loved Fred's Gryffindor. How when she said "Prank a Raven," and he said "Color changing hair-styles" and she said "Prank a Slytherin," and he said "Color-changing hair styles, puke-inducing potions, and robes that disappear every four hours at random. Let's go do it!"

Yes! That was what she missed! It was the edge, the leader in him, the willingness to shoot bludgers at the head! Now, he shot them at the body... and yes, his grades had risen, and really, he was more responsible, but damn it! She could be the responsible one!

That Harry Potter had ruined her friend, and, by God, he'd pay.

As he walked out of a compartment, he nodded at himself, and whispered "All Done." All done poisoning future Gryffs, huh? Well, she'd show him!

"Excuse me, you're Harry Potter, right?"

He smiled at her. Ha! Like she'd be fooled! That smile hid the Devil's face!

"Can I speak to you? Alone?"

They walked into the compartment, and Angelina Johnson sent a Petrificus Totalus at him. It connected with the boy, and Harry Traitor Potter turned into a stone statue.

"That's for ruining my Fred Weasely. You made him... soft. He doesn't care about Gryffindor Pride; you ruined him and George and even Ron is hanging out with that horrid Slytherin girl and that snot-nosed Malfoy Ravenclaw, and that little Hufflepuff Longbottom! Well, this is my comeback." Angelina turned and stalked out of the compartment, closing the door behind her.

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Lecole Zabini smiled grimly at the stack of potions. What people neglected to mention was that magic-dampening potions were very highly illegal, after all, overdosing meant dampening your magic. Permanently.

And that was what she was looking for. Really, this wasn't even too illegal. After all, the laws concerning these potions were more... flexible in Italy, and that's where she was. It was getting them to England that was a problem.

She smiled, penned a note to her son, and wrapped up the potions. Then she sent the note to Blaise. Dumbledore was as good as gone.

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Diana Brendiv looked at the note from her daughter. At last! She was worried that the pureblood family hosing her daughter would do something terrible... but Melinda had told her that she could take care of herself, and she'd run into Purebloods eventually.

This letter was so long, it was practically a book.

Diana settled down and began to read.

Dear Mother,

I am well. I hadn't written to you because I was not sure what to think. But now, I am quiet certain that you are wrong.

You told me that I cannot trust Purebloods, but that Weres are alright. Dowager Longbottom has given me several books on the Holocaust, on the Armenian Genocide, on the Rwandan (Rwandan?) Genocide. Neville also showed me PROOF that several werewolf packs sided with You-Know-Who! PROOF!

You told me that as we know what discrimination is, we won't do it. RUBBISH! Greyback's pack and others, too, went after MUGGLEBORNS!

And also, LOTS of purebloods fought for Muggleborn rights and were rights and whatnot! You're a liar! I don't know what you were thinking, but it's not black-and-white!

You should read A) Diary of Anne Frank, B) Number the Stars, C) Book Theif, and watch Hotel Rwanda, and you should read Muggle history books about 1930-1950 in Europe! Because there are good and bad in every group, and you can't just judge like that.

On and on the letter went, quoting books and books that proved that even when Germany was bad, there were good Germans and such.

And letter went on and one about Neville's parents, about how brave they were to fight against You-Know-Who, and Melinda was panicking.
This was SO much worse than she expected, so much worse.

They hadn't hurt her little girl, not physically. They had brainwashed her little baby, changed her, did something.

Diana would have to save her baby, and nothing would stop her.

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Sirius Black yelped and jumped. He had been re-drafting a letter to Amelia Bones, when a young Italian appeared in front of him.

He belatedly realized that the Italian was handsome, holding his wand, handsome, holding a letter, and handsome.

Alas, his heart belonged to Amelia - otherwise, he'd elope.

"You're Fabrizio? The Zabini who's on Diana Brendiv?"

"Si. You are Black. 'Tis a pleasure, as you English say."

"What do Italians say?"

"I am Zabini. We get right to business, and what we say is none of your concern. This is a letter that Diana Brendiv received from her daughter. The Target is angry, and feels that her daughter has been 'poisoned' by the, what do you call them? Purebloods. Yes. She is angry, but the Old Wolf has forbidden a revolution. The Old Wolf is the head Alpha. She wishes revenge on the Longbottoms."

"If... if she starts hunting the Longbottoms, kill her immediately. If she starts getting others to help her get the Longbottoms, kill her immediately. If you kill her, then you gotta make it seem like... like a suicide, or like she was killed by weres. Gotit?"

"Si. Would you like to read the letter?"

"Ye... no. No point, I already know what's in it - only one thing could get Diana so vengeful from what you've told me, and that's Melinda telling her the pureblood's aren't so bad."

Fabrizio nodded and disappeared. There was no 'pop' to signify apparition.

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Remus cleared his throat.

"I already asked Door for permission to marry her sister, and she gave it... but, um, Andromeda, Ted, do you give me permission to court Nymphadora Ingress Tonks?"

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Fleur grinned. That summer had been the BEST! There were no Death Eaters in France, but they finally set up the wards in all the main magic areas, getting people not to judge and whatever. Her mother had taken a lot of convincing, but at last the lot of them put up the same wards in the French Ministry and schools and everywhere that the British Ministry had. And the contracts with the French Newspapers were also signed... really, it was chaermante. She couldn't see the results. And with Beaxbatons having all the 'special rooms' that Hogwarts had... well, things were perfect.

She was only a few steps away from the fifth-year carriage; there were separate yearly carriages pulled by abraxans. And her sister, Gabrielle was joining this year! Of course, being Veela, she would look eight... until she looked twice that age, changing over the span of nine months.

But Gabrielle would be fine. After all, Fleur had already cornered four different first-years, two girls and two boys, and made them promise to protect Gabrielle from as much physical and emotional trauma as they could, without inflicting too terrible trauma upon themselves. A popular girl (it was obvious, she was pretty, and nice and was just good at life), a rising jock - sorry, quidditch star, and two know-it-alls. Then she made them all sit on the same bench in the carriage, and put that spell on them that Tonks had taught her - made them all honest with each other and trust each other while in the carriage. Because they'd probably have other friends, but this way, they'd have several hours to get used to each other and to the girl they were to protect.

Fleur could be pretty ruthless - after all, she was best in the scoreboards, and had been since forever. And when she had family to protect, she was even more so...

Besides... pretty soon, she'd come into her full Fae inheritance, and then, and then, she'd only be loyal to her mate and children and king, and she wanted Gabrielle to have protection when her big sister forgot her.

She knew Harry was going to do that to his little sibling as soon as possible... when the child was going to be born, that is.

Fleur smiled at her friends. She was already feeling less affection for them; already loosing interest in little bits and pieces of the human world. She supposed it was because of her training - after all, if she had let her magic develop by itself, it'd develop when she was... eighteen? But no. She was pushing both her Fae and human magic to it's fullest, making it develop and strengthen a lot more than otherwise. Like a muscle, she supposed.

After all, it was not normal to have such a large affinity for fire, even for a Veela. But that was all right. Power was always helpful.

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Tom Marvolo Riddle looked at his list.

First Item) Remove Political Enemies: Dumbledore, just in case. Cornelius Fudge, Delores Umbridge if needed. If Dowager Longbottom makes a fuss, then her as well. Diana Brendiv was too radical to be controlled from a moderate point of view.

Second Item) Figure out how to control Potter - not kill; no point in martyring anyone. The above mentioned were too ugly and old to be martyrs. Who did the boy love?

Third Item) Figure out why so much of his research had mentioned Time, and London Below as part of magic. He had ignored it in his teenage years, worried about being immortal, and being a Dark Lord. But now... now he was immortal - even if his horcruxes weren't safe, which they were, then he had a huge snake helping him out. Which was quite helpful.

Fourth Item) Check the Horcruxes.

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Blaise and Luna were talking quietly when she stiffened.

"Luna...?"

"Dubhshlain's stone. C'mon. The Snorcacks say we gotta help him." And Luna stalked out of the compartment. Blaise stared for a long moment, for a long terrible moment.

Her face was panicked, but determined.

She pause, right outside.

"Are you coming?" Her voice shook slightly, her knuckles were white and clenched tightly. In that voice was a challenge, but also pleading. She was begging him, and warning him - if he didn't come, this was the end.

And Blaise could see, in his mind's eye, as friend after friend after friend kept sitting.

And Blaise could see, in his mind's eye, as Bice pursed her lips to keep from crying as the children sneered. Bice...!

He raised an eyebrow and made a big show of stretching comfortably. Luna crumbled, like a paper figurine in the rain, getting wet and slowly turning grey and folding over itself until it's hidden and nothing and unnoticeable.

Blaise stood up.

"Did you expect me to stay? Lead the way, il mio vagabondo." Let me come with you, my traveler, my wanderer, my little Bice, let me come with you, please, please...!

And Luna lit up, like the sunrise, all reds and golds and pale blue streaks and mio Dio, Blaise was lost.

She offered him her hand, and Blaise took it, and she pulled him to... wherever her Dubhshlain was.