Summary: Harry Potter is just an eccentric school boy with some unusual talents. Lord Peverell-Black, on the other hand, is a magically and politically powerful man with the world at his fingertips and a war at his doorstep. [Time travel, no pairings.]
Shards of Time: The Master of Death
Chapter V
The Deal
"Life is like a game of cards. The hand that is dealt you represents determinism; the way you play it is free will." - Jawaharal Nehru
"Good morning, King Ragnok," Harry began in an amiable tone. He desperately hoped that Ragnok's title was that of a king. "You requested a meeting with me, correct?"
Harry was pleasantly surprised to see Ragnok start in surprise. Obviously he hadn't been expecting Harry to speak up first, given his apparent age.
Ragnok frowned, but did not comment upon Harry's choice of approach. "Ah, yes, Lord Peverell-Black-Potter," the goblin said as his mouth widened into a toothy grin.
Harry nodded in reply. Then, without asking for permission, he pulled out his wand and conjured a simple, yet comfortable chair. Ragnok raised an eyebrow but, again, did not comment.
"Well," Ragnok began, shuffling some papers around, "I do believe that you mentioned that you know the location of 'Gryffindor's' sword?"
Harry couldn't repress the grin that came to his face; trust goblins to get straight to the point. "Yes," Harry replied simply. "And I'll have access to it in a few days time." After that Harry fell silent; he would wait and see just how the goblin would respond before continuing any further. Would they demand he hand over the sword? Or would he offer something in return first?
Ragnok paused as well for a moment as he studied Harry. So far the boy was a complete unknown factor, so they would have to be cautious in their actions as well.
Finally the goblin decided to just be blunt. "How much do you want?" he asked. Harry, for his part, decided to feign ignorance.
"Want? What do you mean?"
"For your information on the sword, boy! The sword!" Ragnok snarled, quickly losing his patience. "How much gold do you want?"
Harry couldn't help but smirk. "Gold?" he questioned. "Who says that I want gold?"
Ragnok faltered, once again surprised. Harry did not give him time to recover this time though, and instead pushed onward.
"I want to enact the Eye for an Eye Agreement," Harry declared. "An equal trade."
Upon seeing Ragnok's shell-shocked face, Harry knew that he'd been successful in his approach. He'd managed to make an impression on Ragnok and that wouldn't easily change now.
Harry was also very glad that he'd managed to remember the Eye for an Eye Agreement. It was a very old trade agreement set up by the goblins more than a thousand years ago, before Gringotts had even been founded. It basically stated that they would trade something for something of equal value, within the terms of a contract that would be set up between the goblin and the trader.
After a few moments Ragnok showed a part of just how he'd earned his position by snapping out of his shock and quickly schooling his features back into a stoic expression. He stared hard at Harry for several minutes, studying him. Finally, a slow grin spread across his face.
"The Eye for an Eye Agreement, eh?"
"Yes. I'll give you all of the information that I have on the location of the sword in return for an information agreement."
Ragnok paused once more before finally nodding. "Alright," he said. "I agree. We'll draw up the contract then."
Ragnok shuffled around some of the papers on his desk for a moment before pulling out a sheet of blank parchment. He then pulled out his quill and a bottle of ink and began to write. For the next couple of minutes, the office was filled with the sound of the scratching of a quill on paper. After nearly five minutes, Ragnok finally stopped and pushed the paper and the quill toward Harry.
"Read it over," Ragnok instructed. "Then write up your half."
Harry nodded and did so. The first few paragraphs were basically stating that Harry would give over any and all information that he had on the goblin-made sword, known incorrectly as "Gryffindor's sword", to Ragnok, the current king of the goblins, on pain of death. Harry read the passage several times over with a critical eye. Finally he nodded and began to write his half of the contract.
In Harry's part he had to explain what he wanted in return for the information that he was giving, so he penned down the details of the information that he wanted. Harry basically stated that he wanted to be given information that he asked for by the goblins, mostly wizarding politics information. Harry knew that quite often he would have to pay gold to receive the information—a bribe, technically, but that was beside the point—but the agreement itself was to allow Harry to "legally" gain the information. Truthfully, Harry was also planning on donating money to St. Mungo's and to the Ministry of Magic. He had a feeling that he Department of Mysteries would appreciate some of the items that Harry could give them from his vaults.
Once Harry was done with his portion of the contact, he handed it back over to Ragnok. The goblin took a few minutes to study Harry's portion of the contract, checking it for any loopholes, and then finally nodded in satisfaction.
"Now we shall sign the contract," Ragnok said. "Keep in mind that his is a magical contract. The 'on pain of death' part is completely valid for both of us, much like a magical oath."
Harry nodded solemnly and both he and Ragnok proceeded to sign the contract. Once they were done they grasped hands over the parchment and Harry could just about feel the magic settling in around him, binding him to his promise. Ragnok let out a toothy smile as he and Harry relaxed back in their seats.
"Well then," the goblin said, "Where is the sword?"
"The sword," answered Harry, "Is in the sorting hat in Albus Dumbledore's office in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Instantly, Ragnok's mouth dropped open and a murderous look came onto his face. "You tricked me!" he snarled. "You knew that I wouldn't be able to get into Hogwarts!"
"No," Harry interrupted calmly. "I made a deal. You were just too giddy about getting the sword back to think clearly about where the sword might obviously be; I saw how you rushed through the negotiations."
"That sword is mine!" Ragnok raged as he leapt up from his seat. "It was forged by my forefathers!"
Harry tensed in his seat, half sure that Ragnok would leap over the desk and attack him right then and there. After a moment however, Ragnok relaxed back in his seat. His labored breathing faded and his glare softened until, abruptly, he began to laugh.
Harry started at the sound, having never heard a goblin laugh before. It was a rough, wheezing sound that Harry was pretty sure a human could never mimic.
"It's been a long time since I've had a negotiation like this," the goblin king admitted. "And with a human no less!" He let out a deep chuckle. "I like you, child. Though perhaps that isn't the correct term, hmm?" Ragnok gave Harry another hard glance, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips. There was no doubt in Harry's mind that Ragnok had read Harry's blood parchment, the one that had Harry's age on it.
"Well," Ragnok continued, folding his hands before him. "Since this had all been your plan, tell me, what do you want in exchange for the sword—which, might I remind you, is rightfully mine?"
Harry smirked. "Yes, it is," he replied. "But the sword is not in my possession so I can't just hand it over to you. I'll basically have to steal the sword and then give it to you. So, technically, I'm charging you for the service of stealing the sword. Anyway, I once again enact the Eye for an Eye Agreement; a service for a service."
Ragnok let out a sigh, knowing that there was no way that he could argue. Harry smirked.
"Fine," Ragnok agreed grudgingly. "What is this 'service' that you want?"
Harry paused for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. "There is an item that I'm going to acquire today. The problem is that it's...broken. I know that it can be fixed, but not how to fix it. What I need is to have it fixed either by goblins or wizards—either way, I need to remain anonymous."
Ragnok frowned. "Fine, but you'll have to explain exactly what the object is first."
Harry smirked.
It was almost an hour more before Harry finally left Gringotts. By that time he'd worked out all of the details with Ragnok and signed a second magical contract before leaving on good terms. After that he'd gone back down to the Peverell vault, where he'd placed the Gaunt ring with the Hufflepuff cup and then taken the pensieve with him.
Almost immediately upon leaving, Harry Apparated into Grimmauld Place. He tucked the pensieve away in his room, ate lunch, and then placed the new glamour charm on his necklace before Apparating back into Diagon Alley.
This time, Harry didn't bother with any of the shops directly on the Alley. Instead, he headed straight for Knockturn Alley, pulling his cloak's hood up as he did so.
Knockturn Alley was just as shady and narrow as ever. Looking as he did however, especially since his face wasn't visible, he wasn't hounded like he had been when he'd first come to the Alley. If anything, people purposefully stayed out of his way.
Harry passed quickly through the dim alley and entered his destination: Boigin and Burkes.
The shop was filled to the brim with all sorts of strange and gruesome items. Behind the counter in the back of the shop stood the storekeeper, who was eyeing Harry carefully.
"What can I do for you, Mr...?" the man asked as Harry approached.
"Black," Harry supplied. "Lord Black."
The storekeeper breathed in sharply, his eyes widening in surprise. Harry half expected the man to question him about the truth of his identity, but instead he just nodded and slipped into a bow, causing Harry to raise an eyebrow.
"How may I be of service to you, Lord Black?"
"There are several items which I need at the moment," Harry replied. "I have been...informed...that you have some of them." Of course, there was really only one item that he needed, but it was better to let the man think that he was going to get more business.
As if on cue, the storekeeper's face lit up at the idea of making some sales. "Of course, sir!" the man exclaimed as he came around from behind the counter. "What is it that you need? I just recently got some new items—"
"Thank you," Harry said firmly, cutting him off. "But, as I said before, I already know what it is that I'm looking for." As he spoke, Harry's gaze moved to rest on a tall wooden shape leaning up against one of the walls: The vanishing cabinet.
It had actually been just last night that Harry had first thought of the vanishing cabinet. It was the perfect solution to one of his recent problems.
While at Hogwarts the only way that Harry would be able to leave—which he would doubtless need to do often—would be to sneak out past the grounds. Doing so, however, had a high probability of getting him caught. With the vanishing cabinets however, he could simply go into the Room of Requirement and exit out into Grimmauld Place, where this second one would be placed.
The only problem with this plan was that the cabinet in Hogwarts was broken and that if anyone else entered the cabinet they'd also be taken to Grimmauld Place, which would be very bad. Thanks to his agreement with the goblins however, those problems were going to be fixed. Now all that was left was for him to purchase the matching cabinet.
The storekeeper grinned as he followed Harry's gaze. "Ah," he said. "Yes, yes, that's a very special cabinet. Anyone who enters it never comes out. It is said that there used to be a matching cabinet, but it was lost many years ago."
"Yes," Harry said with a grin. "Well, it's exactly what I've been looking for."
Abruptly, Harry stopped as he noticed something lying on a stand next to the cabinet. It was a large opal necklace, one that he recognized immediately as the one that had put Katie Bell into St. Mungo's for several weeks during his 6th year. Harry's mind immediately gravitated toward the necklace; if he took care of it now, then Draco Malfoy wouldn't be able to buy it—and neither would anyone else, for that matter.
"Yes, I'll take the cabinet and that necklace," Harry murmured as he gestured toward the two items.
The storekeeper grinned again. "Sure, sure. I'll wrap up the necklace right away—just be careful never to touch it. I assume that you have some way to take the cabinet with you...?"
"I do," Harry replied. He didn't expand upon that.
As the man began to take care of the opal necklace, Harry turned to survey the rest of the shop. As he did so he saw one last item that he recognized: The Hand of Glory. It was another item that Malfoy had used that had eventually led to the harm of others, even if indirectly. Not to mention that Harry himself could possibly use it...
Five minutes later Harry had paid for all of his purchases, including the Hand of Glory. Once that was done he called out, "Kretcher!"
With a small pop Kretcher appeared. "What does Master Black need?" the house-elf croaked. The previous night Harry had instructed him to always call him "Black" in public or in the company of others.
"Take these back home," Harry told Kretcher as he handed him the two wrapped packages. "And the cabinet too. Don't unwrap anything."
Kretcher gave Harry a bow and then laid a hand on the cabinet. Another small pop later and the elf and Harry's purchases were gone.
"Good day, Lord Black," the storekeeper said with a bow from his place behind the counter.
"Good day," Harry replied shortly before striding out of the shop. He waited until he was out of sight of the shop before relaxing. As helpful as it could be, acting the part of a rich pureblood was very stressful and tense.
Harry let out a nearly inaudible sigh and then continued on his way.
Harry spent the rest of his afternoon and evening with his pensieve, reliving as many of his memories as he could. Stopping only once for dinner, he managed to get up until the summer after his first year at Hogwarts.
The last thing that Harry did before he went to bed was to take out all of his memories of his past—or future, rather. He placed each year in a different, unbreakable and warded bottle. This way, even if Dumbledore or Snape used Legilimency on him—as unlikely as that was—they wouldn't be able to find any memories that he didn't want them to.
Harry paused for a moment to think of just why he was going to such measures to make sure that no one would find out that he was from the future. He knew that most people would have already told several people and specifically gone running to Albus Dumbledore for help.
The only problem was that... That Harry wasn't quite sure if he trusted Dumbledore anymore. He respected the man, certainly, but there was just too much that he'd kept from him, too many mistakes that the man had made over the years concerning his life. Even after speaking with Aberforth Dumbledore, Harry still didn't understand why he worked the way he did.
Harry knew and understood that Dumbledore was human just like everyone else, but there were just too many mistakes. Maybe someday Harry would be able to forgive Dumbledore, but not until he was truly able to understand everything.
Harry was also very hesitant to tell Dumbledore—or anyone else for that matter—about the truth for several others reasons. The foremost of these was that he wasn't sure what they would do. For one they might just deem him insane and throw him in St. Mungo's. Or they could send him to the Ministry and pick at his brain until they had all the secrets of the future. That would be the worst of anything that could happen. Harry didn't even want to image what would happen if Fudge or Dumbledore got a hold of that kind of information, let alone Voldemort or any of his Death Eaters. No, too much was at risk for Harry to tell anyone, even someone that he trusted, right now.
With a sigh, Harry slipped into bed and closed his eyes against the strange, new world around him.
Harry woke up bright and early the next morning. Despite himself, he couldn't help but feel both excited and terrified about returning to Hogwarts. He was going to get to meet all of his friends again—even those who had died. Still, Harry had his doubts, ones that just wouldn't leave him alone.
Harry knew that he was far different from how he'd been in his first year—how could he not be after all that he'd been through? He and his friends had all changed and grown over time. So now, years earlier, would he be able to even connect with his past friends? Or would he be too different from them? Would they be too different for him?
With a sigh, Harry pushed his gloomy thoughts away. Things would turn out how they would turn out, he figured. He would just have to deal with things as they came. And besides, wasn't that the reason why he was glad that he'd come back—to change things?
Harry quickly finished getting ready and packed. By the time 10:15 had rolled around, he was completely ready to go.
Harry bid goodbye to Kretcher, letting the house-elf know that he'd probably be back in a few days time, since he had an appointment with the goblins regarding the vanishing cabinet. Then, with a soft pop, Harry Apparated into King's Cross station.
From there, getting through the magical barrier was just as easy as it always had been. Harry couldn't stop the smile that took over his face at the sight of the Hogwarts Express, standing before him in all its crimson glory. There weren't too many people on the platform yet due to the time, something which Harry was eternally grateful for. So far in the past no one except for Draco Malfoy and Severus Snape knew who he was—and even then it was because he'd told them—and he'd like to keep it that way for as long as possible.
Harry made a beeline for the train, weaving his way through the sparse families. Just before he reached the train however, a motion out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention. To Harry's surprise, it turned out to be Trevor, Neville Longbottom's toad. With a smile, Harry remembered how Neville had spent the entire first train ride looking for his toad. Maybe this time around he could use Trevor to break the ice between himself and the self-conscious boy.
Since there was a featherweight charm on his trunk, Harry had no problems pulling it up onto the train, Trevor in one hand. He moved along the train before choosing an empty compartment somewhere in the middle of the train. After securely placing his trunk, Hedwig, and Trevor away, Harry pulled out a book and began to read to pass the time.
The book was one of the ones that Harry had picked up at Flourish and Blotts. It was about wizarding customs and traditions. To be honest, Harry was shocked at how much about the wizarding world he really didn't know. He'd lived in the wizarding world for seven years now, and yet the majority of the things mentioned in the book he'd had no idea about. It just went to show that the wizards did often take for granted the things that they believed to be normal. Why were Muggleborns never told about these sorts of things? It gave them a distinct disadvantage!
The next half an hour passed very quickly for Harry. Before he knew it, he was broken from his reading by a sharp knock on the door. Harry looked up, only for his eyes to widen in surprise when the door slid open to reveal Hermione Granger.
"Hello," she said, her eyes immediately moving to Harry's book. "May I join you?" Harry opened his mouth to reply, but before he could Hermione moved into the compartment and sat down.
"What book are you reading?" she asked, looking at the book's title. "I haven't read that one."
"Ah, it's about wizarding customs and traditions—"
"Ooh, how fascinating!" Hermione exclaimed. "I haven't gotten a chance to read over wizarding customs yet—I've read through all of my school books though. Could I borrow that when you're done with it?"
Harry just chuckled and nodded. Good ole' Hermione, he thought, always fascinated by knowledge.
"Great! I was so excited when I got my letter, you know. Can you imagine it? Magic! I've already tried out a few simple spells and they've all worked for me. I'm a Muggleborn, by the way. Are you one too?"
Harry gave a small shrug as he closed his book and set it aside; he knew that he wouldn't get anymore reading done now.
"Both of my parents were wizards actually," Harry replied. "But I was raised by my Muggle relatives."
"Ooh, that must have been fascinating!" Hermione stated excitedly. "A blend of both cultures!"
"Yeah," Harry said, his smile becoming a little strained. "It was great." He'd almost forgotten that this Hermione didn't really know him yet.
Before their conversation could go any further, the compartment door suddenly slid open once again. Harry looked up to stare into the face of his red haired, freckled best friend, Ron Weasley.
"Erm, hi," Ron stuttered, coloring under Harry's and Hermione's gazes. "Do you mind if I...?"
Harry smiled at the lanky boy. "Sure," he said. "Please, join us."
Ron smiled in relief. "Thanks," he muttered. He hesitated for a moment before sitting down on the same seat that Harry was on, only further down, closer to the door. Harry was surprised at how nervous and shy Ron seemed. He didn't remember Ron being like this the first time around, although maybe that was just because he'd been seeing it from a different perspective.
Not a moment later, just as Harry was opening his mouth to speak, another head popped into the doorway, which Ron had left open. This time however, it was a girl with shoulder length sandy brown hair and brown eyes. She looked familiar to Harry, though he couldn't place exactly who she was.
"Hello," she said brightly. "Sorry, but everywhere else is pack full. Do you mind if we sit with you?"
"'We'?" Hermione asked.
The girl nodded and then moved to the side, revealing a dark haired and eyed boy who had been standing behind her. "We met on the platform," the girl explained.
Harry, Hermione, and Ron all murmured greetings as the two stepped into the compartment. The girl sat down next to Hermione and the boy next to her.
"Oh!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed. "I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Hermione Granger."
"I'm Susan Bones," the blonde haired girl said with a smile under everyone's expectant gazes. Harry suddenly remembered her; she'd been a Hufflepuff. But he could swear that he'd heard her last name somewhere else before—
"Bones?" Harry's thoughts were suddenly cut off by Ron's voice. The boy was leaning forward in his seat. "Are you related to Amelia Bones?"
"Yeah," Susan said, smiling tightly. "She's my aunt. She raised me."
"Amelia Bones?" Hermione asked, glancing confusedly between Ron and Susan.
"She's the head of the Law Department in the Ministry of Magic," Ron said eagerly. "I've heard my dad mention her—he works at the ministry too."
Susan nodded tightly and Harry could almost feel how uncomfortable she felt. Doubtless she hated people liking her just because of who her aunt was.
"So," Harry said to the currently nameless boy in the corner, attempting to get the attention off Susan, "What's your name?"
Susan sent Harry a thankful look. Harry nodded in reply before looking at the boy again.
"Terry Boot," the dark haired boy answered. Harry vaguely recognized the name as belonging to a Ravenclaw in his year, but he didn't think that he'd ever actually spoken to him before.
"I'm Ron," the redheaded boy told everyone. "Ron Weasley."
Finally, everyone turned to Harry, interested as to who the last among them was. For his part, Harry just gave them a sheepish grin.
"I'm Harry Potter."
The effects of Harry's words were instantaneous. Everyone in the compartment except for Harry gaped, shell-shocked expressions adorning their faces.
Ron was the first to break the silence. "Bu—...wha—Huh?" he mumbled intelligently.
As if the boy's words had broken her out of a trance, Susan suddenly smiled and held a hand out toward Harry. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry."
Harry returned her smile and grasped her hand. "You as well, Susan," he returned jovially. That seemed to break the ice and instantly everyone began saying hello before beginning to shoot off questions.
Harry humored them at first, amused by their childlike enthusiasm, but after a while the questions and comments began to wear on his nerves. His amusement was finally snapped by Hermione's ramblings.
"—And you're also in Modern Magical History, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, and—"
"Yes," Harry interrupted stiffly. "Fascinating isn't it."
Terry sensed Harry's sudden change of mood and sent a wary glance at Hermione, but the girl didn't seem to realize that anything was amiss.
"I know!" Hermione continued, "Imagine! Defeating the Dark Lord—"
"And watching your parents murdered in cold blood before your very eyes," Harry finished coldly.
Instantly everyone in the compartment froze. Clearly they had never thought of it from that point of view before. Harry ruthlessly squashed down the mirthless amusement that rose within him at the sight of their shocked faces. They didn't know any better yet, he told himself. They were still just children.
"I— I didn't mean— I didn't— I," Hermione stuttered, her cheeks aflame with embarrassment. Harry noticed that Ron's ears were a deep red and that Susan and Terry looked deeply abashed as well.
Harry let out a sigh. "I know you didn't," he told her gently. "It's just that it's not some glory story. It was a murder that I somehow managed to survive, not by anything done on my part, but rather because of pure chance. And besides that, most of those books aren't really 100% accurate. The authors weren't there at the time and no one's come to me asking for information, certainly." Harry's mouth twisted into a wry grin.
For a moment Hermione almost looked as though she was going to protest against his claim that the books weren't accurate. Finally, however, she returned his smile, though it was a bit tentatively.
"I suppose," she murmured.
Meanwhile, Susan was smiling as well. "I get it," she said. "You don't want to be famous for something that you didn't really do, at least consciously. Right?"
Harry smiled brightly at the girl. "Exactly!" he exclaimed. He'd been right in his assumption that the girl was able to at least partially relate to him on terms of fame—and infamy—because of her aunt.
After that incident, the group continued to chat and found that they got along rather well. Harry also found out several interesting things about his friends, particularly his newer ones, which he hadn't known before.
Both Hermione and Terry were the Muggleborns of the group. Apparently, Terry came from a wealthy Muggle family and he'd been set to attend Eton before receiving his Hogwarts letter. Susan, meanwhile, had been raised with her aunt in a magical sector of London. Harry was honestly surprised at how much the girl knew of laws simply from what she'd picked up from her aunt. Ron and Hermione were generally the same as Harry remember them being in his first year, though Ron was a fair bit quieter than he'd expected.
It was an hour after the train had left King's Cross Station before the group was broken from their conversation for the first time by the compartment door suddenly sliding open. Just as Harry had expected, it was Neville who peered nervously into the compartment. He froze for a moment, seeing so many people.
"U-um," he stuttered meekly, his eyes falling to the floor. "Sorry to interrupt, but has anyone seen a toad?"
Harry smiled softly at the nervous boy, and then reached over and picked up Trevor from where he'd placed him.
"Is this him?" he asked. "I found him wandering around and figured that he belonged to someone."
Neville's head jerked up, his eyes widening in surprise. Upon seeing the toad, he immediately jumped forward.
"Trevor!" he gasped. He gathered the toad up from Harry, thanking him profusely. Harry, however, just waved him off.
"It's no problem, really," Harry insisted. "As a matter of fact, why don't you join us, now that you've found your toad? Unless of course there are others waiting for you...?"
Neville blushed at the invitation and then, moments later, his cheeks darkened even further when the rest of the group began insisting as well that he join them. Harry moved aside, closer to the window, and then patted the seat next to him, beckoning the boy to sit down. Hesitantly, he did so.
After that it took a little while to get Neville into the conversation, but they managed to do so. After only a few more minutes and another round of introductions he was chatting happily with them all. Already he seemed to be a bit less reserved than he'd originally been, though, granted, he was nowhere near the Neville that Harry had come to know within his last couple of years.
Not even a half an hour after Neville joined them a polite knock came on the compartment door before the door slid open. Surprised, the conversation ceased and everyone look up to the doorway. Harry's surprise only increased when he saw Draco Malfoy standing there. The most shocking part however was not Draco—Harry had half expected him to make a visit—but rather that Crabbe and Goyle were not with him. Instead, there were two refined looking boys whom Harry vaguely recognized.
Draco's eyes quickly scanned the compartment before coming to rest on Harry.
"Potter," Draco greeted evenly, a polite smile on his face.
Harry gave Draco a nod of recognition as he moved to his feet. "Malfoy."
Draco glanced around the compartment once more, a small look of disdain on his face at the sight of Harry's company. His eyes did stop however on Susan.
"Miss Bones," Draco greeted with a small bow. "It's a pleasure to see you again. And you, Longbottom."
"You as well, Malfoy," Susan replied evenly. Her face was carefully guarded. Neville just nodded nervously in reply, inverting back into himself once more.
Draco smiled once more before turning his attention back onto Harry. "May I have a word with you?" he asked. "...Outside," he added after a moment, shooting a rather disgusted glance at Ron, who scowled back at him but said nothing.
Harry paused for a moment, and then shrugged. He couldn't see what the harm could be in doing as requested, especially since he was on fairly friendly terms with the boy this time around.
"Sure," Harry answered before following Draco out of the compartment.
Harry was honestly fairly surprised that Draco, while looking disgruntled, had yet to actually say anything about his new friends. This was a big change from the Draco that Harry had known. Perhaps his words in the robe shop had had some effect on the blonde aristocrat.
Once they were out in the hallway, Draco closed the door behind them. As he did so, Harry played with his wand behind back, wordlessly casting a silencing charm around the four of them.
Once everything was situated, one of the four boys stepped forward, to Harry's surprise. He had auburn colored hair, stormy blue eyes, and stood a good couple of inches above the rest of the boys.
"I'm Theodore Nott," he said, holding his hand out. Without pause, Harry shook it.
"Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you."
As Theodore stepped back, the second boy moved forward, putting his hand out as well. He had tanned skin, shoulder length black hair, and eyes so dark that they nearly seemed to be black. Despite this, he seemed to be much less serious than his two companions.
"Hello," he greeted brightly with a thick Italian accent. "I am Blaise Zambini."
Harry smiled in reply.
Finally, Draco spoke up, "These are two acquaintances of mine. I figured that you might like to meet them, especially now seeing who you've been forced to sit with. Would you like to come back to our compartment? I could probably kick Pansy out if there isn't enough room."
Harry's eyes almost instantly narrowed into a glare, his old temper and of hatred of Malfoy rushing back. He made no attempt to stop it.
"First of all," Harry began and Draco instantly froze upon hearing the dark haired wizard's suddenly frigid tone of voice, "I was not forced into anything. You should not make assumptions, particularly not rude ones. Second, kicking people out of a place that they've already been accepted into is also incredibly rude and uncouth."
Draco's face flushed to a bright red. To Harry's surprise though he was not angry. Rather, he looked like an unruly child who knew he'd done something wrong and had just been chastised.
"I— I just thought—" Draco stammered.
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair while reining his temper in once more. He really needed to remember that the boy before him was just that—a boy. He wasn't the Draco that Harry knew. Right now he was just a child who was trying to follow in his father's footsteps. Harry was here to change things, right? Then he would start by changing this one little boy.
"I thought that we'd already gone through this whole heritage conversation before, in the shop?" Harry commented dryly. Draco flushed a bit more at the question, so Harry decided to try and make him feel less embarrassed. "It makes sense though," he said after a moment in a seemingly offhanded way. "You're just not quite cultured yet; you know nothing about Muggles or what they're capable of."
The flush receded from Draco's cheeks as a frown settled on his face. Just as Harry had hoped, instead of being angry he was curious.
"Capable of?"
"Sure," Harry replied with a shrug. From the corner of his eye he noticed that Theodore and Blaise, who'd been standing quietly, watching the proceedings, were also listening interestedly. "You know, if Muggles were to find out the existence of wizards, they could quite easily wipe us out, even if we hid."
Draco's frown deepened and even Theodore and Blaise had furrowed brows. "But how?" Draco protested. "They don't have magic!"
"No, but they have something just as powerful: Technology."
Seeing Draco's blank gaze Harry sighed and then proceeded to explain. "It is true that for over a thousand years wizards were much more advanced than Muggles. However, starting about two hundred years ago or so, Muggles started increasing their technology in leaps and bounds. Due to their condescending attitude, wizards have not noticed this, preferring to ignore Muggles completely. Now the wizarding community had fallen behind the Muggle community and Muggles are increasing their technology every day.
"I've noticed," Harry continued with a sigh, "That wizards tend to think of Muggles as being akin to animals. Even those who are fascinated by them—" Memories of Mr. Weasley flashed though Harry's mind, "—still think of them as harmless. I find it hard to agree with this line of thought when Muggles have the ability to destroy entire cities in mere moments. I know of no magic that can do such a thing."
The three pureblood wizards before Harry stared at him in openmouthed shock. Harry had little doubt that their shock was as much from the fact they'd never heard anyone defending Muggles before as it was from what he'd actually said.
Theodore was the first one to compose himself. He studied Harry through narrowed eyes, though a contemplative look was on his face.
"What then," the boy began slowly, "Is your opinion on what should be done about Muggles? Do you believe we should integrate their society into our own? Do you believe we should separate our society from them completely? Or do you follow more of the Dark Lord's views and think that they should be eradicated completely?"
Harry snorted. "Voldemort is a fool," he murmured, ignoring the flinches in reaction to the name. "And not for the reason that you think either. I...understand why he did what he did and know that he was really just standing up for his beliefs, needlessly violent though they were." Loathe as he was to admit it, Harry truly did believe it. He'd had a lot of time to think during the months of that summer, and he'd used the time wisely. As such, surprisingly some of his views had changed. He still hated the man with the entirety of his being, but he understood him a bit more now.
"Voldemort is a fool," Harry continued, "Because the task that he put before himself was quite literally impossible and nothing but a fool's errand that he set out on because he was terrified of death. If you don't believe me, just look at what his name means in French: Flight from death. I think that sums him up quite clearly.
"His goal was to kill all Muggles. This is impossible because there are billions more Muggles in the world than there are wizards and, as I mentioned before, their technology is now far greater than our own. All Voldemort would have accomplished is exposing wizards to Muggles—which he came quite close to doing—which would most likely have ending up in the destruction of wizards."
"Why do you believe that Muggles would destroy us?" Blaise suddenly asked his head titled to the side inquiringly. "Even if they are capable as you say, wouldn't it be more beneficial for them to work with us?"
Harry shrugged. "In general all humans, be they wizards or Muggles, fear that which they do not understand. And Muggles definitely wouldn't understand us. There is a chance, of course, that they would, but seeing what happened concerning the witch hunts in the medieval era, I have to doubt it. And would you really want to take the chance?
"To answer your earlier question, Nott, my view is a bit of a mix. I do believe that we need to keep our society completely separate from the Muggle society. However, I also think that there are a lot of things that we could learn from them—a lot which we could adapt.
"We could keep our society hidden, but watch theirs; know what they do and what advances that they make. We could have Muggleborns educated in the traditions of wizards, welcome them into our society instead of shunning them like many purebloods tend to do—a poor choice in my opinion. At the same time, wizards should be taught about what Muggles can do. Too few wizards even know what electricity is for Merlin's sake!" Harry had to chuckle then, knowing from the other boys' blank faces that they didn't know either.
"Well," Harry said with a smile after a moment's pause, "I really should be getting back to the others. It's been nice chatting with you though; I hope to see you all again soon in Hogwarts. Good afternoon."
Then, with another smile and a polite bow, Harry slipped back inside the compartment that his friends were in, leaving three pensive boys standing in the hallway.
On the inside of the compartment Harry was met with stares.
"I...didn't know that you knew Malfoy," Susan said slowly. There was a slight frown on her face.
Harry shrugged. "I met him in Diagon Alley a few days ago," he told her. "He's a bit of a bigot, granted, but not so bad in the terms of conversation."
Susan shrugged, her face showing that she really didn't mind either way.
"What did he want to talk to you about?" Hermione asked, ever curious. Harry was glad to see that she didn't seem to mind Draco much and neither did Susan or Terry, though Susan was a bit cool to him.
"He just wanted to introduce me to his friends." Granted, "acquaintances" was how he'd introduced them, but in Harry's mind it was nearly the same thing.
Terry raised an eyebrow. "You were gone a while for just 'introductions'," he said dryly.
"We got into a conversation," Harry said as he shrugged a second time.
"You do know that his father was a Death Eater, right?" Ron suddenly asked with a glare on his face.
Across from him Hermione gasped and Terry frowned, his brows knitting together. Clearly neither of them had known. Harry ignored them for the moment in favor of dealing with Ron.
"Yes," he replied simply, "But Draco Malfoy also is not his father. Can you honestly say that you're exactly like your father? No, you're your own person, and so is he."
Ron scowled heavily, having nothing to reply to that. Instead of admitting Harry's point however, he crossed his arms over his chest and turned away to glare at the compartment wall.
"Ron!" Hermione almost instantly chided. "Don't be so immature! Harry's right; the son isn't the father. I'm sure that Malfoy is a fine person once you get to know him." Ron only scowled even more heavily and sunk down into his seat.
Harry smiled a small, sad smile as he turned to look out at the passing countryside through the window. He hoped that his blooming friendship with Malfoy wouldn't drive a wedge between himself and Ron, despite the bad feeling that he suddenly had in the pit of his stomach.
A/N: In regards to the AN in the previous chapter: It's been interesting to read some of your theories. One reviewer basically hit it on the head in saying that the "magic in the "present" recognizes the markers on his magic from the future which indicate him to be the heir to the Black family, same with the underage ministry tracer. There is in fact, more to it than just this (which would be the part that I cannot explain without giving away spoilers), but this should help to explain it a bit more for now.
Also, another reviewer asked about why Voldemort wouldn't be the owner of the Elder Wand, since he'd killed Harry. The answer to this is half because he didn't really kill Harry and half because Harry's in the past while Voldemort isn't. But...It's also partially that little something that I can't mention just yet!
Anyway, a bit more character development in this chapter. For this story you're going to have to keep in mind that Harry is technically eighteen. If you were such an age and suddenly you had to hang out with eleven year olds 24/7, do you really think you'd fit in? Of course not; the difference in maturity is just too vast.
Thanks for all your reviews!
[Shi]