Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it. Ever.

There Is Always A Way

Harry watched the map for days— well, for months, but the last few days of April Harry really dedicated himself to watching. He noticed a pattern: when Nott wasn't either MIA or slouching around pretending to be a student at Hogwarts, he was in Myrtle's toilet. The way Draco went out of his way to avoid the corridor where that toilet was located told Harry that something Draco wished to forget had happened there. Draco never been all out comfortable around the area unless they had a clear plan of action, but this year unless Hermione dragged him, Draco refused to go near Myrtle's toilet.

It was in early May, while most of the school was scurrying to revise for exams when Harry found Nott alone (well, with Myrtle). He decided to go see what Nott was doing in the girl's loo. It was highly unlikely he was accessing the Chamber of Secrets and while Harry had a sneaking suspicion Nott wasn't a total moron, it was doubtful when he had access to the Room of Requirements he was brewing an illicit potion in the loo. The halls were empty, but Harry tried to keep to the late afternoon shadows as he crept closer to the girl's toilet. As he got nearer he could hear the sound of sobbing.

Harry heaved a great sigh as pity and something else shot through him. He slid down the wall outside and forlornly stared at the closed door.

What had this been like for Draco while he was alone, scared, and Voldemort holding his mum's live over his head? Harry tried to imagine what he'd do in the same situation and was unable to even fathom what Potter would do. Sighing, he hoisted himself to his feet and made the ten steps across the corridor to the door and gently pushed it open. Nott was bent over the sink, ugly crying, while Moaning Myrtle made noises of comfort while hovering over his shoulder.

"I can't do it," Nott sobbed. "It's too much. Why does he expect me to be able to do something this big?"

"You should just fail and you can share my toilet," Myrtle offered.

Harry stepped fully into the loo and let the door shut behind him. Nott jerked and whirled, wand out and ready to hex. Harry held up both his hands and put on the most innocent look on his face he could muster.

"Hullo," Harry greeted.

"Come to laugh at me?" Nott sneered.

"No. I just came to tell you it'll be fine."

Nott, not lowering his wand, snorted. It was an ugly sound, made worse due to the snot coming out of his nose and the tears all over his face.

"I'm serious. Whatever is the problem now, in a few months, it'll be over and hopefully we'll be left with a nicer world."

Nott scrunched up his face and shot out a hex at Harry's head.

Harry dodged, rolling on the ground while Myrtle shouted and the toilets exploded water all over. Harry rolled around towards the sinks as Nott continued to blindly toss curses and hexes at Harry. Desperate to get Nott to calm down, Harry shouted, "OPEN!"

Instantly, silence fell as the stone crunched and other things hissed as the Chamber of Secrets opened. Once the hole was open, Nott let out a loud scream. Harry pulled his head up from where he was hiding it under his hands to find Nott pressed against the opposite wall, face white. The floor was covered in water, but the toilets were no longer doing fountain impersonations.

"Are you done?"

Nott dumbly nodded.

Harry got to his feet and brushed himself off.

"Close," Harry said and the opening slowly closed up under Nott's watchful eyes. "Okay, so yeah, I can still do that. Or am able to do that. That rumor is true. Okay? Yeah, so, I know the Dark Idiot has set you a task you're not going to be able to do. He knows that your aunt knows that, Snape knows that, hell, even Dumbledore knows that."

"How—"

"You don't want to know," Harry blithely said, flapping his hand at Nott. "Here's what you're going to need to do: stop worrying about killing Dumbledore. You just fix the cabinet and then when you get alone with Dumbledore, just talk. About nothing and everything. Help will come."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because, I'm that kind of hero. I gotta save everyone, even bullies like you."

"I don't like being a bully. I'm not even sure why I do or say some of the things I do," Nott admitted. "I guess I hoped to impress Father. Look how well that went for me."

"Eh," Harry shrugged. "So, how about my plan?"

Nott pushed himself up and ran a hand over his face. He still looked utterly bewildered but nodded. "Sounds better than anything else anyone has offered me in the past year. But my aunt…"

"Will be fine," Harry assured. "And before you ask how I know, I know about the Unbreakable Vow. Snape will uphold it."

"Why? Just so he won't die?"

"Well, there's that, but you're one of his Slytherins. He protects them like a shepherd protects his flock."

Nott sneered but didn't refute the statement.

"So, we good here?"

Nott nodded. "And if everything goes wrong?"

"We'll run away together, along with everyone else who hates Marv."

Nott shuddered but shook his head. "You are so weird."

Harry gave him a cheeky smile before he waved and bid Myrtle a good afternoon.

Summer gripped the castle. Snape upped the number of Dueling Club meetings, pretending they were good for exam stress as well as revision. Tom deemed their merry band of misfits capable of patrolling the corridors before curfew. After curfew small groups worked on stealth movements through the school, dodging teachers and Filch. Draco was in charge of maintaining the rotation of those who had those after hours shifts because he was a prefect and it'd been his duty to put together the prefect rotations.

"How's it going?"

"Fine. Tonight, we've got Ginny, myself, and Hannah Abbot for Stealth Training."

"Not sure you and Ginny need any more stealth training," Harry grumbled, falling into the seat next to Draco. "Have you noticed any difference in Nott?"

Draco looked up and blew the hair out of his face. Across the Great Hall, Nott was sitting in No Man's Land at the Slytherin table. It was where people who hadn't chosen a side sat and his sitting there was a rather loud statement. Goyle and Crabbe looked pissed and aching to beat Nott into a bloody pulp on the end of the table where the Support Moldy Team sat.

"What happened?"

"I talked to him a few weeks back. Basically told him we know what Marv set him to do," Harry cheerily went on. "And it was going to be okay."

Draco stared at Harry wide-eyed. "How the hell do you know it's going to be okay?"

"Because I'm a superhero!" Harry reminded Draco with a cheeky grin, pulling on arm back and thrusting the other over his head.

"Long live the Boy-Who-Was-Mental," Draco muttered. He began to fill his plate with potatoes.

"That is not a good superhero name. How about Captain Hogwarts?" Harry asked, piling his plate high with bangers and mash. "So, we taking exams this year?"

"Yes," Draco answered. "It was in the period after we'd sat our exams I managed to fix the vanishing cabinet. So, it's likely Nott won't fix it till then."

"Bugger. I was hoping to get out of them," Harry grumbled. "I guess I ought to study."

"You should."

Harry grumbled and thrust a forkful of mash into his mouth.

May dragged on. Harry stopped vanishing off to do strange lessons with but spent a lot of time writing what appeared to be music. Tom read what he was writing one day and blanched.

"Why are you writing that down?"

"To teach the crew," Harry said, sticking his tongue out. "Addy said if I wrote the music down, she could play it. She'll be here this weekend. She said she knew of a music room."

"I didn't know you read music," Hermione remarked, looking over Harry's other shoulder. "Though, you ought to be revising. Exams start Monday."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"He doesn't read music," Tom pointed out. "He's written down the words and now he's…I'm not sure."

"Writing how the music flows. If you helped, maybe—"

"I don't write music."

"But you can read it?"

"No."

"But you can sing."

"No."

Harry snorted, but when back to what he was doing. He finished it, sealed it in an envelope, then hurried out of the library.

"How is that going to make any sense to Addy?"

Tom shrugged, going back to his Potions revision.

Harry never returned to the library that evening. Draco and Tom found Harry sitting in the Common Room with Luna, who had a strange looking instrument in her mouth. Colin Creevey and his little clone brother were both holding odd looking Muggle objects that seemed to be recording what Luna was doing on the odd pipe. Next to him, Tom froze, his blue eyes going large.

"I guess she got it right?" Draco inquired.

"Yes," Tom whispered.

Colin Creevey hit the bottom on the object and said, "I think we got it! So glad your friend told us how to get these to work here. Been dying to record things for Da back home!"

"Yeah!" echoed Brother Clone.

"Oh god," Tom muttered.

"Thanks, Luna!" Harry said. "You coming tomorrow still?"

"Oh, of course, Harry. I'd love to hear Addy's version."

Luna pocketed the pipe and drifted off, giving Draco a dreamy smile and patting Tom on the cheek. Harry took the thing Colin handed him and added it to the package he had waiting. Hedwig appeared in the open window and vanished into the night with the package.

"I believe I will retire," Tom proclaimed, vanishing before Draco could say goodnight. Since Harry was still entertaining the Creevey brothers, Draco followed Tom to the dormitory. Upon entering, he saw Tom had shut his curtains tightly and was pretending to snore up a storm with Neville, who always snored. Tom, not so much. Rolling his eyes, Draco got ready for bed.

The next afternoon, the group met in the room Luna was only able to access (well, Oliver Wood and Percy, along with a few people on accident could, but only Luna on purpose). There was a piano in the center of the room and Addy stood looking nervous and excited next to it. After scanning the room, Draco concluded Tom was not going to show up.

"I'm sure he knows it," Draco assured her.

"But he has such a lovely voice," Luna lamented.

"We all here?" Addy asked, her Southern America accent making several students startle. "Hi, I'm Addy Lupin. Cousin of your old professor. Got bored in America, so I came to the Spellsmith Headquarters to tutor some new smiths. Honestly, we need more of y'all to come get a Mastery in Spell craft! Pays well, and it's totally fun."

Addy smiled, showing off her huge white teeth.

Several students took several steps back. Harry sighed.

"She's not mental. Just a little excited," Harry said, taking charge. "Now, during the last few…battles I've had with Moldy Face, something's happened that kind of rendered him useless."

"What?" someone asked flatly.

"If there's something that renders him useless, then why don't you use it right now to get rid of him?"

"It's a song. It doesn't render him…useless. That was the wrong word. It distracts him. It's how I managed to escape fourth year, how he didn't notice me getting a poisonous fang to stab his evil diary of doom, and distracted him last year during his duel with Atlanta Lupin."

"She died."

"Bellatrix stabbed her in the stomach," Tom flatly said before Harry could meltdown in front of everyone. Seeing Harry looked as if he might throw up, so Tom took over. "Atlanta Lupin wrote the song we're going to teach you and it means something to Voldemort. We're not sure what, exactly, but it distracts him, freezes him in his path. Do you know what you a second can do for you in a duel with that man? Everything. A second is all it takes to hide, to get cover and protect you from his all time favorite spell."

"AK-47," Harry proclaimed, his chin up and an odd look on his face.

Several Muggleborn snickered, while the kids raised in wizarding society all looked confused.

"Ha!" Addy laughed loudly. "Okay, so I'm going to play the song. Many of y'all heard this when Cedric Diggory died. Atlanta sang it for y'all then. I've been up all night to learn this."

Harry produced sheets of music with words, looking really proud of himself.

"If you can't read music, that's fine. Just sing along with the words. We've got all afternoon to learn this."

"After we learn it, what will we do with it?" Neville asked, staring at the sheet of music in his hands with wide eyes.

"If you happen to see him, sing it," Harry said. "Pick a verse, learn it well, and then shout it at him."

"What if it's the music that affects him?" Hannah Abbot inquired. "Wouldn't it make more sense to have something charmed to make the noise?"

"I'm working on that," Tom reported. "But, due to exams, I've not had the time to make enough for everyone. So, we're going to sing now, learn the words and melody and hopefully by the time we need them, I will have the badges charmed."

Hannah and several others nodded. Most still looked bewildered, Zabini and Weasley being among them.

Two hours later, Draco had the song memorized and never wanted to hear it again.

"Do you think this will work?" Neville asked, clutching the sheet music as he and Draco left the room. "I cannot carry a tune."

"Then, it'll really distract him."

Neville snickered. "Sure. Okay. Do you think we're ready? I mean, in past years Voldemort usually attacks after exams."

Draco looked at Neville, then glanced around at the various students pouring out into the second-floor corridor.

"Yeah. I think we have a really good chance."

Neville took a deep breath. "Okay, then, I guess I'm learning to sing."

"Severus," greeted a cold voice.

Severus stepped into the dining room of Malfoy Manor and walked to the end opposite from where the Dark Lord sat by the fire. He stood, waiting. On the table in front of the Dark Lord was a very ugly necklace and some other items that Severus was unable to make out in the gloom filling the formerly bright, stately room.

"My lord," Severus murmured, bowing his head deeply.

"Sit, Severus, sit."

Severus pulled the chair in front of him but stopped when the Dark Lord made a noise of protest. Severus saw the white hand extending to the chair to his left. Severus moved to the indicated chair and sat. He did not look at the items on the table closely, but the ugly necklace was glowing.

"What do you know of Merlin?"

"He sorted into Slytherin," was the first thing that Severus thought about. "He was likely taught by Slytherin himself due to the time period he was active within."

The Dark Lord made a noise of agreement. "I was so proud to find out Merlin was a Slytherin. Yet, now…I am at loose ends on what to make of him."

Severus did not speak but watched out of the corner of his eye the Dark Lord's slim, bony, bone-white finger trace the edges of the necklace. It pulsed green.

"I came upon this necklace during those years I was learning all I could about the Dark Arts," the snake-like man offered for some unknown reason. "There is quite a bit of information on Merlin, did you know that? Where there is little on Salazar Slytherin, there is a plethora on Merlin and I believed it had to be forged. Upon finding out about this amulet, I knew I was right."

Severus stared right at the green pulsating stone till the Dark Lord removed his finger. Keeping his eyes lowered, Severus watched as the other man folded his fingers together and rested his chin on them.

"What Muggle-loving fool would use blood in spells?" his hissed, the smile clear in his tone.

Severus stared at the thing on the table as it went on blinking.

"Do you know what this is?"

"No, my lord."

"Of course you do not. Its history was hidden in the depths of Eastern Europe and almost lost in the upheaval after the Muggle war," the Dark Lord simply said. "However, I found the Dark Art histories that traced the amulet through time and told me where it was located. Upon returning to this country, I set about trying to find it. It took me years upon years to finally trace it to the Blacks."

Severus said nothing. He noticed the outer edges were made out of gold and finely done— nothing like the ugly ring Severus had had in his hands, nor the hideous gold locket he'd caught Riddle staring at one day in class. He'd seen the huge letter S and the emeralds and guessed instantly what it was: an heirloom from the Slytherin family.

This, though, this was a little too finely done for the time period the Dark Lord was claiming it was from. Also, Merlin had never been a rich man due to most of his money going to fund the endeavors of the Order of Merlin to encourage wizards to live peacefully alongside Muggles.

Crazy that the Order of Merlin was now a medal awarded to wizards and witches. Sometimes bought by families who would never in a million years live next door to a Muggle and were dead set on doing anything to promote being at peace with Muggles.

"This is an amulet Merlin enchanted for his Muggle king," the Dark Lord sneered. "To aid him in his battle with Morgana. He imbued it with his blood and several Dark spells."

The fingers came apart and one began to stroke the stone once again. It pulsed green faster.

"As we both know, Merlin is not known for his use of Dark magic," the Dark Lord purred. "The fact this exists and in here there's a vial containing his magical blood is proof the historical Merlin we know is a lie."

The Dark Lord spat out the last sentence, so Severus extended his head in agreement. Since the publication of The Slytherin Journals, Severus was pretty sure the Merlin everyone learned about— the Muggle protecting and loving fool— was, in fact, true. The documentation was correct, not spoiled as it was with Slytherin. History had an odd way of playing out and shaping itself. If the journals had never been found, maybe Severus would have believed what the Dark Lord was presenting.

"I have been working with this amulet since my rebirth," the Dark Lord went on. "Barty was kind enough to retrieve this along with my wand."

Severus worked hard not to tense his body and cock his head to the side to indicate he was curious to know what the Dark Lord was willing to share.

"I believed when I went to the Potter's I had no need for a shield," the Dark Lord went on, "so I corrupted the spells placed upon the amulet for protection. I believed the Darker spells would be enough. I was wrong."

Severus pretended to be surprised the Dark Lord was admitting fault with himself. As it was, he heard of several occasions the Dark Lord admit he was wrong, present his reasoning, then go on to conquer the thing he had gotten wrong. (One time, though, he tore down the building he had been living within, but no one spoke of that occasion.)

"I've painstakingly replaced the spells I took away," the Dark Lord proclaimed. "This time, when I face Harry Potter, I will not fail."

Severus nodded his agreement.

"This, though, this will be my crowning glory," the Dark Lord proclaimed, snatching a vile of blood from the back of the amulet. "Merlin's blood will assure my long life."

"My lord," Severus murmured, his stomach twisting at the sight of the pulsing red tube of blood.

Blood did not do that. Even magical blood or blood infused with Dark Magic.

That wasn't blood at all but in fact some sort of potion.

Severus glanced at the necklace and found it looking quite normal without the vial behind the stone.

"Severus, why did you request this meeting?" Voldemort inquired, putting the vial of potion back in its place.

Severus sat up, let a false smile appear in his eyes as he said, "The boy Tom Riddle told me he believes Dumbledore to be in possession of the Elder Wand."

Voldemort's pleased face was no less frightening than his angry face.

Severus burst out of his third fireplace in less than five minutes and collapsed to the ground, coughing out the ash he'd accidentally swallowed.

"Are you being followed?"

Severus leaped to his feet, pulling his wand and putting himself right. He glared at Black, who was leaning against the doorway of the room Severus had flooed into, which wasn't the usual room.

"Where am I?"

"Draco's room," Black supplied, grinning. "No idea why it spit you out here, other than I was in the room next door."

Severus strode out of the room, feeling strange to be standing in his godson's private domain.

"So, what's crawled up your butt?"

"Nothing so crass, Black."

"Will you please call me Sirius?" whined the other man, pouting. "I think we've reached the point where can call each other by our first names, haven't we, Severus?"

Severus hated when Black used his first name, mostly because his name said in the cultivated tones of a pureblood was unnerving and made his name sound almost elegant.

"You are anything but serious," Severus quipped, knowing the other's man love of punning his own unfortunate first name.

Instead of answering with the usual answer, Sirius smiled.

And Severus stopped breathing.

He had seen that smile lighting up Sirius' face before and never in a million years would he have thought that smile Sirius saved for those he care for deeply aimed at him.

How had that happened?

"Severus," came Narcissa's voice and breaking the moment. "What do you we owe the pleasure?"

Severus straightened. "I've just come from the Dark Lord."

Narcissa's face went from friendly to deadly in a second.

"He is going to use some sort of amulet he claims belonged to Merlin to protect him as he uses a potion that was attached to the amulet to create his final Horcrux."

Sirius growled while Narcissa pressed her lips together, looking mildly confused.

"What does a potion have to do with the Founders?"

"He believes the vial to be the blood of Merlin, arguably the most famous wizard to grace Slytherin House."

"Why does he believe that? Merlin…he did not dabble with Blood Magic. He wasn't…exactly…"

"He was a Muggle-loving fool according to my mother," Sirius offered.

"Hence why she was more than willing to give up the artifact in question."

"Excuse me?" Narcissa asked, her tone flat.

"The Dark Lord spent years tracking the artifact in question, even after his first tracking failed to turn up the necklace. He managed to trace it to something your father obtained for the family vault," Severus went on, turning towards Sirius. The bright gray eyes locked on him.

"He knew," Narcissa breathed. "Oh, god, he knew."

Narcissa sat down without looking and somehow wound up in a chair Severus swore wasn't there a moment ago.

"He knew what?" Severus asked turning to Sirius who was staring at his cousin with wide eyes and his mouth hanging open.

"He knew Marv was looking for…objects to turn into Horcruxes," Sirius explained. "He left a note in a box Narcissa found in his vault. He didn't mention—"

"He likely thought it was safe, as the vault passed into your control upon his death," Narcissa filled in. "What did this amulet look like?"

Severus described it the best he could and Narcissa stood and swiftly left the two men in the hall. Sirius stared at Severus for a beat before he hurried after his cousin. Severus followed Sirius up several flights of stairs until they entered a library, which by the size was a personal one filled with white books.

"What is this?"

"A written record of everything in the Black Family vaults," Sirius answered. "If it leaves the vault, it'll state where it went and why. Or where it came from. Some relative at some point decided Goblins weren't to be trusted."

Severus snorted.

Sirius wound his way through the rows of white books till he found Narcissa. She was holding open a book and frowning deeply. She looked up at the noise of their approach and scowled. Sirius frowned, taking the extended book. Narcissa had another slimmer book under her arm.

"This it?" Sirius asked, his face pale and a little green.

Severus took the book from Sirius and gasp as it shocked him.

"Bloody hell, I'm sorry. I forgot they do that. Bloody bastard," Sirius muttered, picking the book back up.

"Only those on the Black Family tree are able to touch these," Narcissa gently said while giving Sirius a deadly glare.

"Here, I'll hold, you look."

Severus glowered at Sirius before looking at the open pages before him.

"That's it."

His eyes scanned the page, taking in what was recorded about the object obtained by Orion Black. He'd gotten it from a dealer in Dark Arts artifacts in Wales, who believed it belonged to Morgan La Fey, not Merlin. Orion Black noted that he did not think it belonged to either, as he believed it dated from the mid-eighteeth century. It had no magical properties when Orion bought it. He added all of them himself.

Orion Black had set the Dark Lord up.

"Didn't do his research well, did he?" Sirius quipped.

"No," Severus said, reading the amulet had been gifted to Tom Riddle by Walburga Black on the 16 June 1981. "He had the amulet several months before he went actively after the Potters."

"I want to know how he managed to look like Tom Riddle," Narcissa muttered, crossing her arms. "At that time, he looked nothing like the boy she'd known."

"No," agreed Sirius, closing the book. "But, she was rather…insane by that point in time. She likely believed whatever he happened to tell her."

"Why didn't he kill her?" Narcissa inquired.

"Probably because she was out of her gourd. After Reggie vanished and Father was murdered in her own home, she went round the bend. She blasted House Elves left and right, tore things off the wall, stuck herself to the wall in the entry way to shriek at everyone who entered the house—"

"Sirius," Narcissa interrupted, looking at the ground, "the date, tell me the date again."

Sirius reopened the book and flicked through the pages. "16 June 1981."

Narcissa put her fingers to her lips and stared into space. "She was so different suddenly. I…I brought Draco over after his first birthday to see her, as he was the heir, as you were unlikely to have children."

"And Reggie was dead, so, what happened?"

"She was so calm," Narcissa whispered. "I figured it was a good day, but she was calm and pleasant until the day she died."

"Seriously?"

Narcissa nodded. "What do you think he did to her?"

Sirius shrugged. "Last time I saw her she sent a few Unforgivable at me and accused me of murdering my father. I mean, I only came here to make sure…you know, I'm not even sure why I came back. I thought I'd be disinherited, but I got in here all the same. Should have been my first hint, but I was angry because Addy and Reggie were dead, so I didn't really think about the fact the house let me inside when it shouldn't have even been noticeable to me."

"The Dark Lord is proficient in mind spells. They are a favorite of his," Severus softly added. "He might have tried something to addle her mind, only he fixed what might have been broken on accident."

Narcissa and Sirius exchanged looks. Sirius shrugged, closing the book and throwing it at the shelf. It re-shelved itself.

"What about the vial of pulsating potion? It says nothing about the vial of what the Dark Lord believes to be Merlin's blood."

Narcissa took the slim book out from under her arm and opened it up to the middle. Holding it near her mouth she said, "Blood colored potion, pulsing light."

Narcissa pulled the book away and looked down at it, suddenly bursting out laughing.

"What?" Sirius asked, looking eager and a little leery.

"Cassiopeia."

"Oh no."

Severus looked at the pair before asking, "Well, are we going to go find the book for the entry?"

"We ought to, as we should know what the potion does," Sirius suggested. "With Great Aunt Cassie, who knows? Last time her potion made Tom out of drawing and some magic."

Narcissa looked at the slim book, then set off further down the row of white books. She turned a few times before pulling a book off a low shelf. After she found the entry, she read for a minute, then burst out laughing.

"What?" Sirius demanded, grabbing the book. He held it so both he and Severus could read. Upon reading what the so-called Blood of Merlin actually was, Severus snickered, smiling. He looked up at met Sirius' eyes, which were filled with laughter. "He cannot be serious."

"He isn't. You are," Severus quipped, his smile out of control. He was even showing his teeth (which weren't as yellow as they were thanks to a potion, but they were still very crooked).

"We are so winning," Sirius said, throwing an arm over Severus' shoulder. Severus felt warm. He wasn't sure if it was due to the close proximity of another human being, or the flush of the knowledge the Dark Lord had made a grievous error.

The potion wasn't anything other than a light. A red light potion to aid Cassiopeia Black to brew something else that was much more dangerous.