A Tale of Life and Death

by GentlemanGhost007

Voldemort has fallen, for now, Dumbledore plots his next move as new factions rise and new alliances are made. And at the center of all the chaos, the killings, the plotting and scheming, the betrayals and coalitions, was Harry Potter, the eldest son of Jame and Lily, and the twin brother to The-Boy-Who-Lived. [Updated on Ao3 First]

7. Power

A Tale of Life and Death

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Dark Lord Rising; Year 1 | Masquerade of Snakes

Chapter 5 | Power

"The day the power of love overrules the love of power, the world will know peace."

― Mahatma Gandhi

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- POV HARRY -

They were all gathered in the Headmaster's Study. That is the Potter Family, Dumbledore, Rufus and Remus, and surprisingly, much to the displeasure of the others, Severus Snape.

And just where was said study? Why, in the sky, of course! Who would have ever guessed that the Courtyard was a Jumpkey to an island in the sky? Floating nearly a hundred feet above the Courtyard, the study itself was a flat island covered in sheets of firmly interlocking metal that stretched over a foot past the original length of the island. The steel sheets curved from the middle of its formation on the floating island to its outer edge, almost in the shape of an upside-down plate, and underneath it, dirt, rubble, and connecting roots formed the inside foundations of the upside-down tower of the Headmaster's Study. The floating tower had nine floors, each floor, starting from the top, shrunk smaller and smaller, the largest floor was around a hundred feet wide in diameter, and each floor was nearly twenty feet in height.

The design, stonework, and artwork on the tower were simple. The outside of each floor had arches and pillars that seemed to connect downwards. The arches and pillars were made of mixed marble and quartz, and the tiling for the floors was made from beautiful, white talc bricks, connected with a white paste of some kind that blended seamlessly with its milky color. The floating tower also had a unique quirk, spewing from a hidden mouth at the bottom of the ninth floor was a fountain of water that traveled upwards, encompassing the entirety of the tower like a shield before, at the very end of it, it evaporated into the air.

One would be absolutely floored and awestruck if they saw the marvelous, and majestic feat of Magic before them. Yes, Magical, for Albus Dumbledore had created it during the early years of his tenure as Headmaster of Hogwarts. His positions as Supreme Mugwump of the International Wizarding Confederation, IWC for short, Chief Warlock of Great Britain's Wizengamot, and Grand Sorcerer, allowed him certain privileges and access to things that helped fuel the continued secrecy of his study. And those privileges allowed Dumbledore to fill his island with… things. Things that many Wizards and Witches would be arrested for having.

In the room Harry and his family were in, they saw rows of books, gizmos, and gadgets. On the walls were some currently empty Living Portraits, and many accolades and awards that Dumbledore had received and won over the years as well. There were even some things that cause Harry's attention, mainly because they were covered up with sheets of bedclothes, sparking his curiosity about what they could possibly be.

At one end of the room was a long desk made of light wood, most likely spruce. All of them were gathered around it, Dumbledore at the head of his desk, Harry sat at the bottom right with Snape and Rufus standing on either side of him along with, much to everyone's surprise, Lily Potter. While the rest of the Potter Family and Remus stood across from them at the bottom left of the long desk.

Dumbledore's office wasn't really decorated, the occasional study table and chair were all there was, save for the books, gadgets, gizmos, and boxes that littered the room. To the left of his desk was a floating, shattered mirror, the glass floated in many jagged pieces of the mirror, sharp and rough yet elegant and pleasing to look at. And whenever the pieces of glass touched, they would make a little diddy of pleasant sounds. And to the right of the desk was a bird perched on a wooden arm, the famous and legendary Phoenix, which appear uniquely to the help of all Dumbledores in their darkest time of need, this particular one went by the name of Fawkes. Looming as an ever-present watcher and guardian to the Headmaster.

Phoenixes were rare majestic avian beings of life, healing, and fire. They had thick beaks like a vulture and beady, golden eyes, an upright height nearing four feet, and a wingspan of nearly twelve. They are either red, orange, white, or a mixture of all three colors. Fawkes was mainly orange in color, with the edges of its wings being red, and the plumage of the tail feathers starting out orange only to fade to white.

Contrasting them, there were also Dark Phoenixes as well, their colors being black, purple, a dark blue, or a mixture. Dark Phoenixes, unlike a regular Phoenix, were born from death, corruption of being, and strife. In the entire history of the Wizarding World, there were and have only been two known accounts stating the existence of Dark Phoenixes, they were beings so rare, many believed them to not have ever existed.

"What are you doing here, Snivelus?" James said, finally breaking the silence. He was giving Professor Snape a disgusted, condescending, and loathing look.

"I am here to make sure my student is not assaulted again, Lord Potter." Snape said formally in his emotionless voice, carrying a perfectly calm and blank face. Even if James had insulted him. Though Severus was feeling annoyed and irritated beyond all manner, he knew that he had to keep a sense of professionalism.

"Enough," Lilly cut the two off from arguing. "Both of you, enough." She then knelt, so she could get a better look at where her son was hit.

"Thank you, Lily." The voice of Dumbledore kindly added before addressing them all. "Now, to the matter at hand. We are here to discuss your inexcusable actions, James." He gave the Lord Potter a disappointed look, causing the man to at least look away in shame.

Rufus scoffed, catching Albus' attention. "Let's call it as it is, Headmaster," he bluntly says before listing off the charges. "Second-degree Assault of Minor, Second-degree Assault of Noble Heir, and Third-degree of Negligence of Heir. All of which are felonies that can land a man or woman in Azkaban for a minimum of two or more years… each." Scrimgeour's voice was hard, as if his very words judged the character of his superior.

"It was an accident!" Charles boldly proclaimed, Harry rolled his eyes. He was flexing his jaw muscles to test whether or not they were still sore, and they were, an ugly bruise was forming. Surprising since those of Magic were stronger and healed faster than normal Muggles.

'Then again, it was a fully-grown adult who hit me.' Harry then flinched when he felt something touch his jaw.

Lily retracted her hand. "Sorry, I was-"

"I don't need your help or pity." Harry viciously said to her, causing more tension to rise in the room. His mother looked away, disheartened, while James and Charles had a fuming look to their eyes at Harry's behavior. She stood up from her kneeling position and also took a few steps back to give her son some space.

Rufus looked at Charles with disgust and ire but said nothing. Remus stared at the back of his Godson's head in surprise, did Charles really not understand the severity of what Scrimgeour had just said? Many mouths opened to speak, none of which were Harry's, and before any of them could get the chance to do so, Dumbledore had already cleared his throat and beaten them to the punch.

"Why don't we ask Harry what he thinks, hmm?" Albus said, directing the attention to Harry, who had his arms folded and an unamused face. "What would you like to do, Harry, about this… debacle?" Emphasizing his point and question, directing the entire room's attention to the Potter Heir.

With a face devoid of all emotions, one that looked tired and exhausted, Harry spoke a single word. "Nothing." His voice was quiet, calm, a tone that broke his mother's heart. Harry then directed his eyes at Rufus. "No charges." Rufus raised a questioning look but received nothing back, he sighed and nodded in understanding.

"That is… very mature of you, Harry." Dumbledore said with a proud smile that did nothing to change Harry's demeanor. He cleared his throat. "I was going to give both of you a lecture, but I see there is no need. Now…, James, Lily, I think it's best we tell Harry why he was sent to live with your sister."

At this, Rufus' interest peaked, specifically because while the older generation remembers Lily Potter birthing twins, none of them knew what transpired on the fateful night of the Dark Lord's demise nor what became of the eldest. And as the days went on, he faded to obscurity, completely forgotten and overshadowed by The-Boy-Who-Lived.

"It's… complicated." Lily answered with a sigh.

"So is rocket science. Yet they made it work." Harry retorted. The vague beginnings of an answer irritated him. The rest, besides Lily, Severus, and Remus, gave confused looks as to what this 'rocket science' was. "So what's the reason?" Hardness toned his voice, face, and eyes.

James then spoke. He'd had enough of Harry's disrespect. "Watch your tone, boy." He said, almost threateningly. "You will not speak to your mother. I allowed it once, you will not do it again."

"Or what?" Harry casually challenged. Lily was glaring at her husband, giving him a warning through a raised and pointed finger. "You'll hit me again?" He smiled smugly, Harry was enjoying watching his father squirm uncomfortably. "Go ahead, I mean, you'll lose everything, but then again, there wasn't really a relationship to lose with me to begin with, was there?"

"Stop it, both of you, please." Lily pleaded in a gentle voice. She looked at her wayward son. "Harry, what we did was possibly the hardest decision we had to make. You-Know-Who had just been defeated by your brother, and… we needed to ensure your brother's safety."

"So favoritism is the answer," Harry chuckled out despairingly.

"No! No, that's, …that came out wrong." Lily sighed, having difficulty putting it into words. "Rufus," she looked at the old man, "could you possibly give us some privacy?" Rufus gave no answer but he looked down at Harry, silently asking what he wanted. He received a nod of affirmation from Harry and nodded back, walking away before silently speaking the Jumpkey's verbal command to go back down to the school's Courtyard.

"Well?" Harry questioned patiently.

Lady Potter gave a cautious look before resuming her explanation. "What do you know of You-Know-Who?" She asked hesitantly. Lily, while she wasn't afraid of the Dark Lord, she still held onto the superstition that saying his name would bring trouble.

"Voldemort?" Harry curiously asked, a voice of innocence toned his question.

They flinched. That is all but Dumbledore and Professor Snape.

"Please do not say his name." Harry almost rolled his eyes, he wondered why. "The Dark Lord, there was… a prophecy, a legitimate one, foretold by Sybill Trelawney, she's the Divination's Professor for Third Year and up. And. That prophecy told of someone, a child, who would defeat him, someone born near the end of July, of parents who defied the Dark Lord thrice. And the only ones who fit those criteria were your brother-"

"Me."

"-, yes, and Neville Longbottom." Lily continued through her son's interruption. "And you know the rest of what happens from the history books."

"That still doesn't answer why I was left at Aunt Petunia's." Harry remarked evenly. "All you've really done is create more questions than answers."

Dumbledore sat himself up and spoke before James or Lily could answer. "Well, you see, it was I who advised your parents to leave you in the care of your relatives to ensure your safety, Harry. I advised them that it was best that you live away from your parents, so they could focus on your Twin Brother. Tensions still ran high when the Dark Lord was defeated by Charles. It was still very dangerous, your parents took a great risk, but since James essential became Lord, he had to send you away to ensure the continuation of the Potter bloodline."

Harry was quiet. Contemplative as he rolled his knuckles on the arm of the chair he sat in. "Okay." He finally said.

"Okay?" Albus asked, confused, brows scrunching up questioningly.

"Yeah, I understand. My parents were listened to your idiocy, which led to Remus being a coward, apparently, my Godfather, who knows what he's doing, hating James, most likely. And Peter Pettigrew, a traitor, dead." Harry rudely listed off, as if slapping them in the face with those facts. "It looks like you give great advice, Headmaster."

"ENOUGH!" James' furious voice boomed out. "You will not speak to the Headmaster like that again. Matter of fact, you will not speak like that ever."

Harry arrogantly scoffed. "I don't think you're in any position to be making any demands," he tiled his face to give his father a look at the nasty bruise on his jaw. "You're the reason we're here in the first place, remember?"

"Harry," Dumbledore carefully began. "Please stop instigating and goading your father."

"Father?" Harry looked pointedly at Dumbledore, the man instantly closed his mouth, knowing he said something wrong. Lily looked to be on the verge of tears as regret and guilt dawned on her face when Harry looked at her, James, and Charles in contempt. "My Uncle, Vernon, was my Father. Did you know that he and Aunt Petunia had just welcomed their own son into the world, just months before I was born? His name's Dudley, by the way. They were quite tight on money when you dropped me off." Eyes went wide on what Harry began implicating, Charles looked crestfallen at the mention of Dudley. "The two of you never bothered sending any financial support, so Dudley and I grew up with hardly anything, I was a burden, but they never told me that, in their eyes at least, I was family. Even though we had little, we still had each other, and that was all that mattered to us. Family."

Lily opened her mouth to try and speak, her voice was weak. "Harry-"

"I'm not finished." Harry's hard voice quickly cut her off, looking at her sternly, also eyeing James with loathing of the fact that ever since he had learned that House Potter was one of the richest of all the Wizarding World. Sending even a little financial support wouldn't have even made the slightest dent in House Potter's coffers. "My Father," James clenched his teeth and balled his fists knowing Harry wasn't referring to him, "worked himself to death, he died on my seventh birthday, from excitement of all things. Life loves kicking us when we're down, doesn't it?" There was a longing in Harry's voice as his eyes filled with emotion, but it'd been replaced quickly by mockery.

"We didn't know, if we had, we'd surely would have sent money," Lily said desperately, trying to defend her actions, but Harry ignored her. James on the other hand was speechless.

"After we buried him, things got worse for us. While my Mother was working her poorly paying job to keep a roof over us." Harry continued in grim reminiscence. "Dudley and I resorted to a life of crime and petty thievery, Dudley would accidentally bump into strangers while I pickpocketed them. I would take a little money, just enough to buy some food for the three of us, if they didn't have much, I'd return everything and act like the person dropped their stuff." No one seemed to have any words as Harry revealed just how harsh his childhood was.

"This went on for a little more than three years. And in that three years, I learned just how …unforgiving the world really is to people like me. The poor and impoverished." A recollection of memories flashed through Harry's mind as he paused in grim remembrance. "In those three years of thieving, stealing, and beating others and getting beaten, … killed a man." Lily gasped, several others exhaled loudly, while others looked at their feet in shame, in shame for failing Harry, in shame of their government for not investigating the situation. "You shouldn't feel bad, that man deserved it for what he was doing."

"That is not your right nor place to decide," Dumbledore said, angry at Harry's lack of remorse. "You murdered." He stated with a grim tone.

"He's right." James spoke judgmentally.

"Yeah, and I'd do it again." Harry replied with viciousness. He leaned forward towards James, as if to challenge him. "And it's not like you're any better."

"That's not fair," Lily rasped out. "You can't judge us solely on our past."

"But I can judge you on your actions." Harry declared loudly. "After all, actions speak louder than words, and you, the three of you, have proven that you do not care about my well-being."

"We do care," James argued, though he made no effort to try to continue and support his statement.

Harry stared pointedly at his blood Father in the eyes. "Did you care when you sent me away? Did you even think of the consequences of that, how I would later feel about it?" He asked, his voice serious and even. "For all you know, I could have been beaten my whole childhood, abused mentally and physically, all because of your poor decision-making. But I wasn't, because your in-laws were good people, better people, people more selfless and kind in my eyes than you will ever be. I was told, believed even, and thought you were dead for the entirety of my twelve years of living, and honestly, I wish it were true."

"Harry." Dumbledore's voice sounded, trying to salvage the relationship of the Potter Family, Harry looked at him with loathing as well as in irritation. "Surely you can find it in your heart to forgive your Mother and Father? They truly did what they believed was best for you and your safety. They are your family, you must forgive them." His eyes were filled with pleading, something which oddly sickened Harry.

An anxious pause filled the void as Harry contemplated his answer.

"No." He finally answered with curtness in his voice. "Are we done now? Cause there are some things I need to do." He began standing up.

"Renѐea Selwyn." James uttered curtly. Harry stopped abruptly, he sat back down.

"What about her?" Harry asked. There was… caution in his voice.

"Stay away from her." Lord Potter simply said. He gave no explanation, something Harry expected.

"How do you know that I spoke to Lady Selwyn?" Harry asked once again. His voice held suspicion and his eyes narrowed with a glint to them. "And why should I?" He said challengingly. Lily was about to answer his question, but her husband beat her to it.

"I do not need to explain my reasons to you, boy, but you will cease your contact with Heiress Selwyn, immediately," James answered in a cold, hard tone.

He, Harry, scoffed and stood up, Harry was simply tired with his fa—James' audacity and demands, so he walked away, only to stop at the center of the room. He turned around, making a retort before disappearing. "When hell freezes over."

"Harry!" Lily cried out from where Harry had just been sitting a moment ago, reaching out with a desperate hand in an attempt to stop and speak with her son. But alas, it was too late. She fell to the floor, defeated.

Silence. Shock. Confusion. Weariness.

The room's atmosphere seemed heavier, denser than before. As if a great pressure befell on them all.

"Lily?" It was Remus who finally spoke, his voice but a hoarse croak at the moment. "Lily, are you alright?" He asked gently. He heard her whisper something. "What was that?" He leaned in closer. Lily seemed to have gone into a trance.

"My son," she whispered out with a deathly quiet voice. "My son." She began to break down in tears. "Harry." A pitiful voice whimpered out. In Lily's hands… was a small blanket. Embroidered on it were simple stars, clouds, and bolts of lightning, and the initials, HJP. She had hid it behind herself and was going to give it to him before the entire mess happened in hopes of it being an olive branch and the fixing of a relationship. Or at the very least the start of one between them.

"Lily it's, ow-" Remus quickly retracted his hand, he looked at the palm of it. It was burnt! And then he looked at Lily. "Oh no."

"I'm sorry, Harry, I'm so sorry." Lily rocked back and forth, hyperventilating, clinging onto the blanket as if it were connected to her very life. "Mommy's sorry. Please forgive me. I'm so sorry. Please," she pleaded to the empty ceiling as she looked up to it, Lily looked to be staring past it. "If you're listening, please give me back my son. Give him back, give him back, I'm begging you. PLEASE!" She screamed desperately.

Unbeknownst to her, her Magic was running rampant. It literally engulfed her in a layer of flaming, translucent white. It was a sight that made even Dumbledore worry, as he had stood and moved towards the others with his wand drawn in case something were to happen. Heat began to warm the room, and powerful gusts of horrendously hot air started to push out from Lily's body.

Dumbledore casted a shield around the four of them while Severus did the same, yet he tried to get closer to Lily in hope of calming her down. "Lily," Albus yelled over the loud, now whipping winds. "Lily, Lily, you must calm down!" Dumbledore saw that Snape's shield was starting to crack as he neared closer, the Headmaster pointed his wand at Professor Snape, mumbling some Spells to reinforce Severus' shield.

And then it stopped, and Albus very cautiously lowered the protections he set up. His office was a mess.

"It's all your fault." He heard Lily chant. "...all your fault. It's all your fault. It's all your fault." Lily's voice became distorted, malicious even, and in a blink of an eye, she disappeared.

Slap.

"Lily-"

"YOU STUPID BASTARD!" Lily screamed, her eyes were bloodshot, and tears were running down her face. She began smacking, slapping, punching, and even tried kicking James.

"Lily, calm down." Remus tried reasoning as he moved to pull her away from James.

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE HIM ALONE!" She wailed out before falling to the flooring, Lily began balling her eyes out, weeping and sobbing. The blanket she had been clutching to was burnt. At least the edges were. "My baby." Lily whispered out, a sense of searching, obsession even as she looked around frantically before disappearing, this time for good, apparently.

"What the fuck." James gasped out, Remus nodded in agreement, while Dumbledore and Snape looked contemplatively at each other. None of them noticed the angry, festering, dark look on Charles' face.

'This is all your fault, Harry.' Charles thought as he came to the conclusion that none of what happened would have happened if it weren't for Harry.

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- POV GERROD -

Gerrod was currently talking to Marcus Flint at Slytherin's table, both sat across from each other. The debacle with the Potter Family had caused quite a stir that several students had gone to write to their parents to inform them of what had just happened. Pretty soon, the incident will be on the front page.

"Montague," Marcus began with a very irritated tone. "If you interrupt and butt into my conversation with Heir Grindelwald one more time, …I will kill you." Montague, Graham Montague, raised his hands up and gave apologizing words.

"Walking away now, sorry, won't happen again." He said with a nervous smile.

The Ancient House of Montague was a business and trade-oriented Noble House, their word carried a little influence but not much in the Wizarding World. House Flint, on the other hand, was almost equal to House Malfoy in terms of influence, though Gerrod learned that their Noble House has been in decline ever since the patriarch, Lord Thamus Flint, fell ill. And though in decline, House Flint was still a force to be reckoned with, especially to someone like Graham, who, unlike his shrewd father, was anything but smart or subtle.

Gerrod watched and waited until Montague was out of earshot to continue his discussion with Marcus. "You know, I'm going to be honest, I almost did not come to Hogwarts, almost wish I didn't. I was actually accepted into Durmstrang Institute, ironic, seeing as it's the school my Grandfather was expelled from." He smirked.

"Huh, that is funny," Marcus said with a smile. He looked around suspiciously and pulled his wand out, twirling it in a circle in the air while wordlessly casting a Spell. "Muffling Charm with an AOE Ward, Area of Effect, if you're wondering. Very useful for having private conversations in public." Flint informed Gerrod who became wary when Marcus pulled his wand out.

Gerrod leaned in closer to Marcus. "So what did you want to talk about?" He asked.

"Heiress Selwyn wishes to extend you and your group an invitation to a… private meeting." Marcus' pause was very odd to Gerrod, because why would he choose such specific words to describe a meeting?

"And what would this meeting entail, Lord Flint?" Gerrod asked. He then gave a curious look. "Also, why did you say my group?"

"The meeting is private, as I've said before, I can't really say what Heiress Selwyn wants because, well, she never told me," Marcus admitted with absolutely no shame. "And I said your group because you are the mastermind, Draco Malfoy couldn't plot his way out of a paper bag if he wanted to."

"I still don't see-"

"Anthony Goldstein." Gerrod froze. How did he know about that? "Yeah, I—we know all about that. It was really impressive for a kid your age." Marcus remarked offhandedly. "I actually can't believe he didn't die from that."

"When's the meeting," Gerrod asked, hoping to change the topic.

"Tonight, we'll send someone," Flint replied, he was now picking his nails. "Oh, and one more thing, I want you to keep an eye on Potter, report back to me if he does something… interesting."

Gerrod scoffed. "And why should I?" He asked defiantly.

Marcus peered down at the Grindelwald Heir with a look of restrained annoyance and anger. "Because the safety and well-being of your sister depends on your obedience." He sneered. "Keep an eye on Potter, report to me, and nothing will ever happen to your sister." He left the unspoken threat run wild with possibilities in Gerrod's mind rather than saying it.

The Grindelwald Heir was quiet for a long moment, and then he asked Marus another question. "There's a rumor going around that Selwyn is interested in Potter, is that true?" Gerrod inquired.

"Not sure if I know what you're talking about," Marcus says dismissively, feigning ignorance while acting like Gerrod didn't know what he was talking about, similar to what a parent would do when they dismissed their child's nonsense. "Care to explain why you think that?"

"Because Potters and Selwyns hate each other. Everyone knows that." Grindelwald's smile grew even larger when Marcus' eyes narrowed. "Plus, my source was Malfoy, so it has a sliver of truth to it. So what's her interest in him?"

"Why do you want to know?" Marcus asked lowly, intrigued.

"Just curious," was what Flint got as an answer, along with a casual shrug.

Marcus hummed contemplatively. He folded his hands and rested his elbows on the table. "I see. You do know that Malfoy is now going to be a target, right?" Flint stated. "Why would you even reveal something like that?"

Gerrod smirked. "Because not even you nor Selwyn are that dumb enough to piss off Lucius Malfoy." He said cockily. "Plus, if any of you were to even look at Lord Malfoy's children wrong,, he'd know about it. And I'm pretty sure neither you nor Selwyn want to start a war with House Malfoy."

"Ha ha. Fair point. You're good, I'll give you that, stupid, but good." Marcus conceded with a hearty smile. Flint eyed the Heir of House Grindelwald with curiosity, studying his face, his eyes, trying to get a read on Gerrod's emotions. He frankly couldn't figure out why he was so intrigued with him, perhaps it was because Marcus found himself amused at his sheer audacity. "Well," he stood up, casually waving his wand to dispel his Magic. "I'll see you latter tonight, heir Grindelwald. Oh, and welcome to Great Game." He gave Gerrod one last look, a grim one with a smile, before he walked away to talk to… Pansy?

His talking to Pansy mattered not. There was only one thing that occupied Gerrod's mind at the moment when Marcus left, and that was the thought, feeling, and belief that he was going to die later tonight. That and many other morbid thoughts. Gerrod was so wrapped up in his own little world in his mind that he didn't even realize or see that Harry had returned.

Since dinner was near, Gerrod decided it would be best to talk in the safety of their social, public group of acquaintances. He wanted to try and convince them to all meet together in one of their rooms to talk privately. Gerrod raised his hand in greeting to Harry, who ignored it, it seemed he had a lot on his mind seeing as the Potter Heir had grabbed a plate to fill with some of the snacking foods that were offered between meal times and sat down at a random spot at Slytherin's table to mindlessly eat.

When dinner came, it was a rather dull affair for those at the Slytherin table, not many were talking, and those who were, were doing so in hush manners, whispers, or cautious murmurs. The rest of the students, those in Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff were quite boisterous, even merry as they chatted and talked ignoring the past event as if it were a distant memory. Charles in particular was laughing away with his friends, something which greatly irritated Harry to no end, having to hear his brother's laugh almost echo throughout the Great Hall. It seemed most student quickly rid themselves of the drama of the day's morning events.

Gerrod watched Harry with interest, observing him to see if he'd be able to approach him, and the others to discuss Selwyn's invitation. Daphne for sure wouldn't be surprised, if there was one Noble House that played politics and the Great Game, it was House Greengrass. They were notorious for their ruthless methods and ability to play both sides, the Light and Dark, seemingly the perfect embodiment of neutrality. Every Noble House, including House Malfoy, House Potter, and even Dumbledore himself, knew to be cautious when dealing with the leader of the Grey and that steering clear of them was the best option.

Gerrod wouldn't be surprised if most, if not all of their group expected some kind of invitation from one of the upperclassmen to be extended to them. After all, power and influence was everything in Slytherin. And what better way to obtain it than to play kiss-up to the future Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot?

"Potter?" Gerrod's voice broke Harry's train of thought, causing him to jerk his head up and look at Gerrod in a sudden motion. "Are you okay, Harry? You've been staring at your plate for a good solid minute." Harry shrugged.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He said evenly, shaking his head as if to clear it, Harry resumed eating mindlessly.

Looking at all of them, Gerrod opened his mouth to speak. "I need to talk to you guys, in private." Daphne looked at him.

"Who?" She asks.

"All of you. Well, you, Potter, Draco, and Hermione." Gerrod says, turning his head to each one of them when he listed off their names. "My room, if that works." The five of them sat in some sort of circle, the boys on one side of the table and the girls on the other. They were sitting around the middle of the table, Crabbe and Goyle were sitting at the ends where the boys sat, and Pansy and Tracey were doing the where the girls were sitting.

The Malfoy Scion sighed. "Please tell me I'm not being involved in your little game," Hermione said exasperatedly as she scrunched her brow. Unlike the rest of her family, she had no interest in playing the Great Game, being House Malfoy's Scion as well as the only daughter of Lucius Malfoy, a life of decadence was all but guaranteed, and she had no reason to give up because of ego and pointless ambition.

"You are the daughter of Lucius Malfoy," Daphne began in a lecturing voice, Hermione rolled her eyes, "whoever has your ear, has the ear of Lord Malfoy. It doesn't matter whether or not you want to play, you will be forced to play, be it of your own volition or someone else's."

"Is that a threat, Greengrass?" Draco asked daringly with a challenging tone.

Daphne scoffed, she was amused, "A fact, and a statement." She said with calm earnestness, there was not a care in the world in the tone of her voice. "And why would I need to threaten someone whose below my station? Anyways, I'm off to the Grand Library, I'm going to do some reading, your room works, Gerrod, I'll see you soon. You don't need to get someone to notify me, I will know." Daphne stood from the table and excused herself from dinner. Her voice was arrogant and almost self-righteous, an attitude that would be odd for someone only ten and three. But not for a Witch or Wizard, especially one of the Nobility, seeing as how the normal, average Muggle was physically inferior to Wizardkind.

It was common knowledge that Witches and Wizards were usually twice as strong as the average male and female Muggle, they were generally smarter, just by a little. People like Harry were considered abnormal, even by the standards of the Wizarding World. Witches and Wizards were also more handsome and pretty than the regular Muggle, even when plain-looking, they still had an elegance to their looks and physiques, though with the current times, many have taken their advantageous heritage for granted. On top of that, they grew physically faster and aged much slower.

Aging for a Wizardkind was an odd and fickle thing that relied upon and correlated with one's Magical potential and strength. Such information could be found in Gray's Anatomy by Dr. Henry Gray, a studious scholar of a Wizard and the leading expert in Wizard Anatomy and Biology, which Harry found to be a pleasant read. The good doctor wrote his bestselling educational book during the 1840s and refined it until it was finally published in 1858. Publishing both in the Wizarding World, with the Magical aspect of his research for his fellow Wizards and Witches, and the Muggle World, cutting and editing out anything Magic-related topics.

Dr. Gray concluded and later proved that Wizardkind grew almost three times as fast compared to the normal Muggle, stating in his book that it started just around the time one's Magical Core began to develop Magic. He found that a child would not always start growing faster at that age, seeing as every Witch and Wizard were different and some started early while some not so early.

In the case of aging, Dr. Gray noted that the average Wizard, or Witch, generally started to grow unnaturally at around nine or ten years of age. Few cases saw that some could even start as early as five. Charles Potter, for example, had started growing rapidly at around seven, while Harry noted that he hadn't, from what he read on what the signs were, and from what he estimated, he was at least four inches shorter than his Twin Brother.

A Wizard would continue to grow at an accelerated rate until they were about ten and six, which was the Age of Majority and the Age of Inheritance. After that, aging, that is, growing old and sickly did not truly start until one was thirty, though the latest Dr, Gray had seen was a Wizard of forty and five. Though physically aging, such as growing grey and wrinkly was also a result of either prolonged use of Magic or the abuse of it. Natural aging for Wizardkind went about a quarter of the speed for Muggles.

"I really wanted to smack that swot." Hermione commented uncharacteristically as she took a sip of pumpkin juice.

Draco burst out in a cackle, as did the others in their various voicings of amusement. "Well, I'm game if the rest of you are." He said, still finding his sister's annoyance hilarious. "What say you, Potter?" Draco stared at Harry, awaiting his answer.

Harry shrugged. "Sure, why not, we're probably all going to die soon, probably because of Selwyn, so we might as well get with whatever Gerrod wants to talk about over with," answered the Potter Heir with absolutely no care nor hesitance. He bit into his third chicken leg of the afternoon, wiping the juices around his mouth with a cloth napkin. He discreetly tucked pieces of chicken, that were unseasoned, into the openings of his sleeve to feed Seline.

"What about you, Granger?" Gerrod asked, years of living and growing up with the Malfoys taught him that Hermione preferred her unknown mother's maiden name to her father's. It was something she made a habit of, almost viciously correcting others whenever they addressed her as a Malfoy, something which always caused Lord Malfoy to smile and chuckle at, oddly enough.

"Fine," Hermione deadpanned. Her dead facial expression and the tone of her voice were the epitome of unenthusiastic. "If Selwyn doesn't kill us, I will if we survive."

---

- POV CHARLES -

Charles had been regaling his tale of the meeting between his brother, his family, and Dumbledore to anyone and everyone who would listen to him. Which was anyone who admired him, …which was practically everyone, seeing as they thought of him to be a great Wizard for defeating You-Know-Who at the tender age of barely one.

"...and then he just strode off with some attitude like he was better than us." Charles ranted. The face he was making was akin to a toddler pouting. "You'd think he'd at least have some manners and actually try to make it work between us." Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas just absentmindedly nodded their heads, almost obediently, as they listened to the tale Charles told them.

"You have to admit, Charles, he does have a right to be mad," Neville pointed out. "I mean, your father did hit him." The reminder of the incident caused Charles to wince in embarrassment.

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." He said with shame. Ron opened his mouth which was cramped with food and garbled some unintelligent words. "Ron, swallow your food." Charles admonished in disgust.

Ron brought his hand to a fist against his mouth, plugging it as he swallowed what was in his mouth and cleared his throat. "Sorry 'bout that, mate," he said. "But yeah, I still don't like your brother, I mean from what you told us, he was rude to Dumbledore of all people! Don't know about you, Neville, but I wouldn't really be friends with someone who was rude to a person as nice as Dumbledore." Neville made no comment, instead, he chose to eye Ron judgingly. "How are your mum and dad taking it?"

"Dad, not so well, he went on a rant about Harry, and mum." Charles sighed at the memory of his mother crying. "She just cried." The tone of his voice was sad, defeated.

"Not to be rude, but your Twin Brother sounds like a right git to me." Ron commented before taking a massive bite out of his… food, which was a pile-on of everything.

"Who is your brother by the way?" A fellow First Year asked over the ample chatter. Charles didn't know or recognize the boy who spoke, so he guessed that he was a Maji. The boy sat by Charles' left, right next to Neville. The seating arrangement was Charles with Ron on his right, Neville to his left, with the Maji boy to his left, the Weasley Twins, Fred and George, who had a habit of teasing their brother Ron and Charles for fun, sat across from them, and a girl in First Year was also sitting to Fred's left and many other students to each of their sides.

"His name's Harry, Harry Potter." Charles answered curtly. "I'm his younger Twin Brother, Charles Potter." He extended his hand past Neville for a shake, to which the boy returned in kind.

"The Charles Potter?" The girl sitting next to Fred all but said. Her voice was a loud exclamation of excitement and awe.

"In the flesh," Charles flashed a smile and gave a mock bow as extended his arms dramatically for flair. "May I ask what your names are?" He politely said.

"I'm Colin, Colin Creevey." The boy answered with a charming, sweet smile. "Apparently I'm a Maji, don't know what that means, but it sounds cool!" He said happily.

"I'm Maria Vance," the girls said, giving a polite wave before bombarding Charles with her very blunt question. "So why is your brother so mad at you?" She stated. The question caused Charles to be taken aback also causing Ron and Neville to choke on their food and drink. The Longbottom Heir and Weasley Scion gave each other a look.

"Family business." Charles said vaguely, Maria could tell from his tone that he wasn't going to give much more of an answer. Charles didn't know why, but he liked the two, there was something about them that spoke excitement.

The Weasley Twins, like Ron, were freckled just a little, pale-skinned with flaming red hair, but theirs were a darker shade than their younger brother's. Being identical twins, they were near impossible to tell apart, same long and sharp noses, the same brown eyes, and thin roguish faces. Though, there was one small thing that differentiated them from each other, and that was a small mole dot on the top right side of Fred's collarbone. Very few knew that tidbit of information, and even fewer remembered it, not even their mother did.

Colin Creevey was a bright-looking boy, his skin was unblemished and bright, eyes that were hazel and filled with curiosity and excitement. He had almost blond hair due to its color shade, it seemed blond but was more of a light, glossy brown. A face shape that held a handsomeness to it and a pearly-white smile to go with it.

Maria Vance was the same as Colin, curious and excited. Brown, curly hair that looked to be untamable, with a turned-up nose and pretty brown eyes that looked like shinned bronze. Her pale complexion made her look rather odd with her still childish face, puffy cheeks and all. Though there was no doubt that she would grow to be a beauty.

"So, what do you lot think of the Grindelwalds?" It was Neville who asked the question.

The Weasley Twins darkened at the change of topic. "Not much, they seem like good lads, for a pair of Snakes." Fred said as unbiased as he could. Though Charles knew he was anything but that, it wasn't that Fred hated Slytherins, it was just their attitudes toward others that he hated.

"Don't know why Dumbledore would allow them to come to Hogwarts, of all places, though." George finished his Brother's thought.

"Keep an eye on them?" Charles offered. "I mean, no one knows more about the Grindelwalds than the Headmaster." Fred and George conceded to the Potter Scion's point, he was likely correct, and they couldn't find any fault with his thinking.

"Doesn't mean we can't keep an eye on those Snakes." Ron jovially said, he looking forward to catching those Snakes and getting them expelled. "Think of all the good we can do if we got rid of them!" Fred and George looked at Ron incredulously. "What?" He asked them, seeing their unbelieving looks.

The two shook their head, the shock from their faces fading away quickly, and they proceeded to talk as one mind. With George beginning their speech. "Well little brother, Ronnikins-"

"It's just that-"

"You're not really-"

"The brightest-"

"Nor the sharpest-"

"Nor the most dangerous or useful, either, Georgie-"

"Tool in the shed." They both finished saying at the same time, laughing before high-fiving. Charles smiled at their Twin Talk, while Ron fumed with embarrassment and anger.

"What's that suppose to mean?" Ron demanded angrily. Though he got his answer from Charles.

"It means you're too much of a Gryffindor, mate." The-Boy-Who-Lived said. This comment oddly caused Ron to beam with pride and puff his chest out. The Weasley Twins rolled their eyes at their brother, for they knew only he would find a compliment in a pointing of faults. Ron then frowned, causing the others to do so as well. "What?" Charles asked his friend.

"Your Brother and a bunch of the Snakes are leaving," Ron said, pointing to the large group of First Year Slytherins making their way out of the Great Hall, it was like a mass exodus. Catching the attention of the Professors and the Headmaster at the High Table, and also the other students as well. And while it was not required for students to stay for the entirety of dinner, it was considered quite rude to do so. "Let's follow them!" Ron said immediately, turning to Charles and giving him a grin.

"Sure," Charles shrugged, not seeing anything wrong with that, "let's go see what my brother's up." His voice had hints of excitement. "Any of you want to come?" He looked to Neville, Colin, Maria, and the Weasley Twins in question. Fred and George waved his offer while the other three looked at each other, shrugged, and stood to follow.

Charles' exit with his friends caused even more students to look up in curiosity, murmuring and whispering to each other about what they thought the two groups who were leaving were doing. Though Lily saw both of her children walk out of the Great Hall, she made no effort to stop them, believing the two of her children to be bonding or hanging out in private together with each other with their circle of friends. How wrong she was.

Charles and his friends, along with Colin and Maria, had to sprint as quietly as they could to catch up with Harry and his group. He remembered seeing his brother's group go right. His group ran in earnest to catch up with Harry's, The-Boy-Who-Lived caught sight of someone's robes billowing in the air as they disappeared past another corner. Charlemagne sighed as he made his way to where he saw the flowing robes, hearing shoes tap against stairs, the question was which one? The ones leading downstairs or up?

"Where are they?" Ron whispered, not so quietly mind as he thought he had.

"Don't know," Charles quietly said as he slowly made his way through the entrance to the lower stairs. "Keep an eye out for them, guys." Looking back, he received nods of acknowledgment from all of them.

"We're so dead if any of the older Slytherins catch us here." Ron nervously remarked. Nevile's face had gone a shade paler as he realized that, and the two Maji, while they didn't know the severity of what Ron was talking about, they also agreed as all four of them followed Charles deeper into the heart of Slytherin's territory.

"It'll be fine, Ron," Charles reassured his friends and new companions while pressing onward. "Not like they'll catch us. We'll be long gone by then, just want to have a look at what they're doing."

"Is that so?" A female voice from behind them asked brazenly, amused even. Charles' group turned to see who it was, with The-Boy-Who-Lived even so far as to draw his wand from his pocket.

Standing before them was Daphne Greengrass… with Renѐea Selwyn to her side. Each eyeing the Gryffindors before them with a loathing, disgusted look. Renѐea spotted Charles' drawn wand and smiled. Then she sneered.

"Careful boy, you wouldn't want to poke someone's eye out with that stick of yours." She warnedwith a haughty, condescending voice. "Then again, I doubt you know how to even use one." Renѐea said as she picked her fingers in a bored manner. "What are you doing in my territory?" She asked lowly, her voice was filled with disdain.

"Your territory?" Charles replied incredulously. "I don't see your name on it." He snarked.

She hummed an amused laugh. "That's because your blood stained the walls and floor." Renѐea quipped back viciously.

Charles pointed his drawn wand at her, his hands shook as fear gripped his entire body, as a feeling of hopelessness and despair washed over him while Renѐea stared him down with her predator-like gaze. The others were also frozen in fear, their shoulders felt heavier as if chains of iron had been placed around their neck.

"D-don't come any closer." Charles fearfully commanded as his hand holding his wand, shook more.

Renѐea snorted, she was amused. The Lady Selwyn casually began to descend the stairs. Step by step at a leisurely slow, steady pace. The rhythmic thumping of her feet against each step felt, to Charles and his group, like a countdown to their doom.

"Are you scared?" Renѐea goaded with sadistic glee.

Thump… thump… thump… thump….

"S-stupefy!" Charles desperately cried out.

He missed.

"STUPEFY!" He screamed in panic. The others hyperventilated, cried, and sniveled in sheer terror and fear for their lives.

Charles… missed again.

"STUPEFY, STUPEFY, STUPEFY!"

Again and again, over and over, did Charles cast the Stunning Spell, and like something out of a horror show, the ones that were supposed to hit Renѐea, phased right through her. But that was not what freaked Charles out, what frightened him was that Renѐea Selwyn's body was warping and twisting out translucent mirage images of herself out of her body. It looked as if spirits were trying to escape from out of her.

Renѐea caught one of Charles' Stunning Spells as it flew at her, causing The-Boy-Who-Lived to instantly stop casting the Spell. She smiled creepily at Charles as she caused the Magic in her hand to roll between her knuckles like a coin.

Renѐea looked at the Spell floating in her hand with a face of growing disgust. "All that bravado," she said quietly, "for this?" Renѐea glared at Charles, who now looked genuinely scared, her glare changed to annoyed disappointment as she began a monologue. "The-Boy-Who-Lived, trained by his Lord Father, only to be able to cast… less than mediocre Magic. Said to be a prodigy of a Wizard, a Magical phenomenon, someone unrivaled at his age, Merlin's fifth coming even. Frankly, I'm disappointed, then again, you are still a child so I never really had high hopes for you in the beginning, but I expected more than this pathetic display you call Magic."

"H-how-"

"Would you like to see some real Magic?" She interrupted with a look of crazed ruthlessness. Renѐea crushed the Spell, extinguishing it in her hand, destroying it, erasing it from existence and life. The Spell Charles had fired, burst in a small spew of blue flames before it then reignited and started to change to light. It condensed and started to contain itself and form into a long javelin shape. It was a literal bolt of lightning, like that of Zeus from the legends, and it glowed brightly, a beautiful streak of crackling white. "This is Magic." Renѐea whispered viciously as stretched her arm, about to strike the terror-stricken child.

Bang.

Charles was thrown to the side and landed on the ground unconscious. Renѐea looked at his crumpled form and blinked several times in confusion, trying to figure out what just happened.

"Sorry about that." A voice said as the sound of steps got closer. "As much as I despise him, he's still my brother." It was Harry. "Can't really let you kill him, unfortunately," Harry remarked with not an ounce of sincerity for Charles.

"Huh? What are you doing here, Potter?" Renѐea asked with a scrunched look of confusion and curiosity.

"Stopping a war from happening." Harry replied instantly.

Renѐea gave a mocking face and rolled her eyes. "Relax, I was only going to take an arm." She said as if it were no big deal. "Besides, he attacked me first," she said with a vindictive smile. "While my retaliation is extreme, I'm still in the right."

"Save your ego for someone your own size," Harry quipped. "Picking a fight with First Years is low, even for someone like you. And besides, the rules say you can't do that."

Selwyn rolled her eyes. "Eck, fine, have it your way, spoilsport." Renѐea dissipated the lightning and canceled her Spell, walking off with the attitude of a five-year-old child throwing a tantrum.

Harry turned to the Gryffindors who flinched at his gaze. "Take my idiot of a brother to the infirmary." They hastily went to Charles' lifeless-looking body and dragged him away as quickly as they could. He then turned to Daphne. "Coming Heiress Greengrass? We're all waiting for you."

---

- POV GERROD -

Daphne made a beeline to the desk in the corner the moment she entered Harry's room. "Alright, spill it, what's so important that you would have us talk in private?" She began asking with a blunt tone. "I've known you for a couple of years, and I know you're smarter than you let on, but even can see that you're way in over your head. What are we doing here?" She stared inquisitively at Gerrod.

The others took the side of the bed facing the desk Daphne sat at while Gerrod just stood and slightly leaned on the wall. "What do any of you know of the Court of Hogwarts?" He said in a low and serious voice. "Or of the Den of Snakes?"

"The what?" Draco asked, Harry and Hermione, nodded to Draco's statement as well, having the same confused look as he did. Daphne on the other hand was squinting at Gerrod, and was quiet, almost like she was in thought.

"The Court of Hogwarts," Daphne ominously began, her voice caught the attention of all the others, and as Gerrod had suspected, she did know what it was. "It's a group, a community, of our society's most powerful elites. Those of it, are part of the most powerful organization on this here earth, they essentially run our government from the shadows, they carry out assassinations, campaign new and rising stars, bribery, drug trade, and other unpleasant businesses, you name, they have their fingers in it."

"How do you know that?" Harry asked incredulously, Gerrod was wondering the same thing.

"I know it from my grandfather's notes," Gerrod said, he eyed Daphne. "You, on the other hand, your family either came across the information by accident or they're part of the organization themselves. So which is it?" Everyone present became tense.

"Both," the calm voice of the Heiress of House Greengrass answered. The other looked at her expectantly, hoping that she'd elaborate. "I'm not going to just reveal what I know for nothing in return, we all know that's not how this works in Slytherin. Information and knowledge comes at a price." Hermione scoffed and groaned in annoyance. "If you don't like it, Granger, you can always get yourself Resorted."

"And give you the satisfaction of being a snot, no thank you." Hermione retorted, causing Harry and Draco to choke on their laughs and snorts of amusement.

"Let's keep this civil, please." Gerrod intervened. "If you two want to fight, do it somewhere else. Right now we need to talk about the Court, specifically Slytherin's own special group called the Den of Snakes. They are who run and decide what goes on in Slytherin, be it who gets to become Prefect, Head Boy and head Girl, and even who's on Slytherins Quidditch team." Draco looked indignant that this so-called Den of Snakes controlled who was allowed on the Quidditch team. Hermione was outraged that they controlled who became Prefects as well as Head Boy and Head Girl for Slytherin, it was unfair to her, what about good behavior or good grades, did that even matter?

"So they're powerful," Harry remarked.

"More than just powerful, Potter," Daphne corrected, "they have connections everywhere, and it's not just Hogwarts either. There's also a Court for the other Wizarding Schools as well. The Court of Beauxbatons of France, the Court of Castelobruxo of Brazil, Court of Durmstrang for Northern Europe, the Court of Ilvermorny for America, the Court of Mahoutokoro in Japan, Court of Uagadou based in Uganda, and the Court of Koldovstoretz which is somewhere in Russia."

Gerrod was surprised, though he did his best not to show it, while his grandfather's notes were invaluable, they made no mention of any other Courts. How Greengrass knew of such things, was quite scary, just how much did she know of the Courts of all the Wizarding Schools? Harry, like Gerrod, was thinking and contemplating his options.

"I thought you weren't in the business of giving out free information," if Daphne felt annoyed with Hermione's comment, she made no showing of it.

"Oh, come now, even you can't be that naive." Daphne retaliates. "Or did you really believe that the other Wizarding Schools with Purebloods wouldn't form or have their own Court?" Hermione just sneered.

"Be that as it may, I have contacted the Den of Snakes." Gerrod's declaration caught everyone's attention.

"You what," Daphne said, she genuinely sounded scared.

"I contacted a possible member of the Den, who also might happen to be part of the Court." Gerrod explained casually with a bit of suave as well. "I gathered the four of you here to discuss of a possible alliance between us."

"Are you crazy?" Harry quickly asked. "We're literally First Years." He crosses his arm as the others nod in agreement. "And when did you talk to them?"

"Before dinner, in the Great Hall," Gerrod answered, he was not concerned at all about what one of them was probably going to say next.

"You realize they could have us, all of us, killed without any witnesses, right?" Daphne made known with a nervous ovice, she could not see why Gerrod would do such a thing.

"If who I think is leading the Den, I don't think they will, Heiress Greengrass," Gerrod confidently said.

"So what now?" Harry asked before any more verbal sparring, banter, or bickering ensued.

"We have to form an alliance." Draco somber said. "Or all of us are fucked." Hermione slapped him for his crass language. "Would you stop it!"

"And who will be the figurehead?" Daphne commented with a smug smirk.

"We can work on that later." Gerrod said. Daphne shrugged uncaringly. "Other than that, I was thinking we all later work towards a common goal, once decided on, and also help each other in endeavors as well, should any of us need help."

"So, a you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours, kind of situation?" Hermione states, receiving a nod. "Reasonable, I'm fine with those terms. Though I want the assurance that in the future, our enemy is also yours."

"That's about a quarter of Slytherin for House Malfoy, Hermione." Draco deadpanned. "What of you Potter? Anything to add?"

"Don't think so, not at the top of my head anyway." Harry said in contemplation, screwing up a thinking face, which was a scrunched nose and mouth with furrowed brows as she eyed up in thought. "I assume we'll just be adding new members to the alliance through voting or something similar?"

"We'll work that out later." Gerrod said dismissively. "For figureheads, I'm thinking either we just vote." He offered to the others.

"Why not just you and Potter?" Daphne remarked. "I don't like being the center of attention, and the two of you certainly like to stir up news and trouble."

"Yeah, why not you two," Hermione said, smiling coyly. "You did take the time to gather us, and plus, no one would dare truly try to slander House Potter, and House Grindelwald is considered a disgrace in most circles, so you're safe as well Gerrod. House Greengrass and House Malfoy, on the other hand, are already under a lot of pressure since we're so high up on the social ladder and have a lot of enemies."

"Your thoughts Harry?" Gerrod looked to Harry for his answer.

Harry frowned. "Sure, why not, what's a little more attention to myself." Draco and Hermione quietly laughed, while Daphne smiled and Gerrod shook his head and chuckled.

"Fair enough," the Grindelwald Heir said, "I guess Potter and I are the figureheads. Alright, now the Den of Snakes will apparently be giving me a message for a time and place for the meeting I've set up on the morrow." Gerrod's explained, telling the others parts of his discussion with Marcus Flight. "They also want you there as well, Harry. So be careful what you say." He said in a serious voice.

"Brilliant," mumbled Harry, exasperated, the thought made him just a little nervous, something he quickly scolded himself for.

"Oh just to let you all know, Lovegood is also part of this alliance, so is my Sister, with much reluctance mind." Gerrod told the four. "I'm assuming you'll be informing the Noble Houses who've sworn fealty to yours of this development?"

"Naturally." Daphne answered with cockiness. "Is that all?" Gerrod nodded, he couldn't think of anything else. "Very well, I shall take my leave, I bid you all, a good night. And sweet dreams." Daphne laughed at the thought. The others responded to her in kind before leaving to get go to sleep as well, leaving Gerrod alone in his room.

Gerrod sighed a breath of relief as to him, that went almost as well as he could have asked for. He slid to the floor in mental exhaustion, staying calm the whole conversation with the four had drained and tired him out terribly.

"Dunk!" He called out. A crack of Apparition sounded before a House Elf appeared next to him. One that was greyish, hook-nosed with squinted blue eyes, short ears, and like all House Elves he was skinny and bony in appearance, wearing a white robe that had two black stripes down the middle with House Grindelwald's coat of arms at the top right side. A six-winged, three-headed Dragon, black of color with two tales. The beast looked to be flying in a circle as it held an olive branch in its mouth.

Legend had it that the first Grindelwald, the All-Father of House Grindelwald, Nikolaus Grindelwald I, slew the beast to protect his wife, his family, and his charges. Battling it in a destructive, landscaping battle that lasted more than two days of pursuing and fighting. The battle ended in the death of the monstrous Dragon which brought respect, honor, fame, fear, and power to the Grindelwald name.

"Master Gerrod," the House Elf bowed lowly, "how may your humble servant be of use to you, Great Master?" It's very had a distinct German accent to its voice.

"A light snack, please, and some water if you will, Dunk," Gerrod told the House Elf who once again bowed and Apparated to carry out its assignment.

Sleep came as fast as morning, and Gerrod was impatiently waiting for the note, letter, or any message of any kind that would tell him of the place of meeting. He was sitting in the Common Room of Slytherin reading one of the three very elaborate and thorough rule books. The tomes the rules were written in were so elaborate and so thorough that each rule and subclause also had the day, month, year, and time it was written and implemented.

The Common Room was almost a sea of green, silver, black, and white clothing. So many were up that it seemed nearly abnormal. If one were to look around, they would see several cliques, groups filled with an association of different students of different ages, and Noble Houses. Students like Selwyn, who was at the top of the hierarchy, sat in the chairs and couches closest to the fire. Those like the Head Boy and Head Girl, and the Prefects, sat behind them along with those of decent influence and wealth, mainly anyone part of Noble Houses who have outstanding commercial power relating to business and economics.

Gerrod and his group sat behind them. Theirs was the area relegated to those who were Lord Heirs of prominent, famous, and know households, or of high influential status. They were the ones who would move quickly on the hierarchy, but because of their lack of experience and time playing the Great Game, they were placed lower on the school social ladder.

The group after Gerrod's was mainly made up of Noble Houses that had sworn fealty to the influential or had minor power. The last group was made up of those with no power, or influence, and any who did not want to play, it was a general rule that any student who did not play or want to play, was to be exempt from any person playing the Great Game and any attempts from others trying to gain followers and power. This rule was implemented long ago when some students, who were at the top of the metaphorical food chain, became too pushy and sought to subjugate everyone they set their eyes to.

Gerrod was so focused and intrigued with reading the rules and admiring the system used that he didn't even see who had dropped a letter in front of the page he had been reading. Looking up in shock and confusion, hidden it was through his facade, he saw only those part of the alliance he formed last night around him.

Gerrod looked around him to make sure no one was watching as he stood and picked up the letter, putting the rule book back on the shelf above the Common Room's furnace, he made his way to an empty corner of the room and broke open the letter, reading in haste.

To Gerrod Grindelwald,

Lord Heir of the Most Noble and Most Ancient House of Grindelwald,

Of the Founding Twelve,

You, along with the Lord Heir of House Potter, Hadrian 'Harry' Potter, are cordially invited to the Common Room of Slytherin at the first hour after the passing of midday.

You kindly asked that you burn this letter at such time, in the furnace, it shall be lit for you for your arrival. Arrive on time or not at all, my time shalt not be wasted on those without courtesy nor manners.

Tell and show none, save for Hadrian Potter of the contents of this letter, should you not comply with these commands, consequences shalt be served to you and your Noble House.

~per manum meam~

Serpens Reginae

'Snake Queen,' Gerrod thought grimly, 'so I was right.' He folded the letter carefully.

"Whatcha reading Grindelwald?" The voice of Blaise Zabini asked. He was sitting on a couch just a few feet from Gerrod. His face had an arrogant look to it. Gerrod promptly ignored him and walked to Harry, extending the letter in his face, causing him to look up in confusion as well as the others who were sitting close by.

"What's that?" Harry asked, taking the ajar letter, unfolding it fully.

"Just read it." Gerrod told him. Harry did as we told and with each passing second his brows furrowed more and more, his forehead creased harder as his eyes narrowed as he reached the end of the short message.

"Is it them?" Daphne asked from a chair she was slumped on, laying across on it instead of sitting on it properly.

"Yes."

"Time and place?"

"Can't say."

"Can't or won't?" Daphne turned to stare at Harry.

"Both," Harry's voice was harsh and firm, the way he sounded made Daphne drop the conversation with a hum of contemplation. Gerrod took the letter back and tucked it inside his robes. "I'll meet you there after luncheon." He said, receiving a nod from Gerrod.

"I'm going to be heading to the Great Hall, it's almost time to break our fast." The Grindelwald Heir told the others before leaving.

The first half of the day seemed to be relaxing, with no screaming and rageful parents, though everyone, particularly Slytherin, kept eyeing the entrance to the Great Hall as they ate. Half expecting Lord Potter to unceremoniously jump out and start assaulting students in some unrighteous anger and fury for some perceived slight against his name.

Gerrod most certainly enjoyed the plain and uneventful day, and while he enjoyed drama and dramatic arguments and such, he didn't like constant excitement as that was tiring to him. His breakfast consisted of oatmeal topped with berries, a side of sausages, and buttered bread, with some milk to wash it all down. Besides the hearty meal, he also had the displeasure of having to hear whispers of disdain, and comments of how he and his Sister did not belong at Hogwarts, something the Headmaster, almost reluctantly it seemed to him, put an end to.

The clock above the lit furnace neared one, just ten minutes left, as Gerrod and Harry entered the empty Common Room after luncheon with a feeling of anxiety. It was mysteriously empty.

"So why did you choose me?" Harry asked after many long moments of silence.

"What?" Gerrod asked quietly.

"You know what I'm talking about," Harry said, "I'm surprised you didn't try to get this meeting for only yourself. I mean, we are Slytherins, I wouldn't fault you for wanting to get ahead."

Gerrod nodded to Harry's words. "I contemplated the idea." He admitted. ". It's not pity, well, at least I don't think it is. But you and I are two sides of the same coin. You and I want power, we both have our reasons, but in the end, it all comes back to the need for security and power."

"And what do you know of what I want?" Harry asked with a slightly offended tone.

"Because both you and I were abandoned by our parents," Gerrod revealed with a somber voice. "We are products of poor choices. And we both wish to be able to break from the shadows and shackles of our families. I want the power to protect what little I have left, and to also elevate the Grindelwald name, I want to rebuild and change its horrific legacy. And you, from what I've seen, want to escape your family or to at least build your own legacy, away from the shadow of your Twin Brother, the great and famous Boy-Who-Lived. Am I close?" He asked with a smug smile at his well-thought-out deduction.

"Fine. I guess we are alike." Harry admitted begrudgingly. "But personally, if I had it my way, I would have gladly lived my life as a Muggle, believing and living in ignorance of my parents and Twin Brother. But now I can't. So now, I guess I'm doing whatever I'm doing out of spite."

Gerrod hummed back as his answer to Harry's statement. He supposed that was fair, an eye for an eye, as they say. His late father always told him to pay back the debts people owed, be they of justified reparation from slights or favors owed in times of need.

"Gerrod?" Harry said, catching his attention. "In your Grandfather's notes, did he ever say who built and founded the Den of Snakes."

"Yes, actually." Gerrod said, "It was built by Salazar Slytherin, the first ever Parseltongue, or snake-speaker, he built it as a way to hear of the complaints from his students, mainly the Slytherins. Apparently, he didn't care about the others. The Den of Snakes was to go to his Heir and later their Heirs, creating a long-lasting cycle of Lord Slytherins who'd judge and rule over their preferential people. It was supposed to be a system of communication with fellow Slytherins, but it was quickly turned into what is known today as the Great Game."

"Hmm, interesting," Harry answered in thought.

"Quite." Gerrod said as he looked at the clock. "It's time." He took the letter and threw it into the lit furnace, it caught fire instantly. And then the furnace and fire just died out within seconds. "That's odd."

A rumbling sounded, it was like a deep gurgle of noise. Lined cracks ran all the way around the furnace, about seven feet high along the wall and several inches around the shape of the fireplace. The openings formed a rectangle before sinking into the floor, revealing the entrance to a room similar to the Great Hall. Only more grey and dreary, and empty.

The room was about half the size of the Great Hall, the entirety was made of grey stones. The walls were lined with carvings of stone snakes. All of which looked to be either hissing, with some variant of an open maw, or looking intently to the void in which they were pointed towards. There were four pillars that created a square of ten by twelve feet in the middle of the room, each one was painted differently with the colors of House Gryffindor, House Slytherin, House Ravenclaw, and House Hufflepuff.

A carpet with embroidery of many different snakes led Gerrod and Harry from the entrance of the secret room to the opposite end, where their hosts sat. And when they began their walk over, the opening to their entrance, closed.

Before them were seven thrones in an upside-down V formation like a parting sea or crowd of people. Each throne was made with a different snake hovering around the seated person with its mouth open, or closed as if poised to strike. The thrones were elevated at the top four of the seven steps, each step was stacked on the other and gave about four feet of space all around itself for the entirety of the size of the thrones. Two and a half feet in length and width, and six feet tall, the simple-looking, yet appealing, the thrones were raised to have a little over a foot of elevation and were a complete, solid mass of metal.

They had two armrests and were nothing too fancy or pretty to look at. There was no padding or pillow to sit on and it did not look the least bit comfortable. Each throne was made up of entirely polished silver and steel, with simple, yet beautiful, lined etching. Each of the armrests was shaped into the head of the snake the thrones represented, eyes of studded emeralds save for the middle throne at the very top which were of rubies.

The bottom three steps were a foot of walk space and encompassed all the surrounding way. At the top of the stairs was the highest, most elevated throne that had an enormous carving of the face of a Basilisk, grey in color with bejeweled ruby eyes, looking like they were hissing overhead of it. The face had to be at least six feet wide and over eight feet tall. With the way it was carved, it looked to be part of the wall and emerging from it. It was incredibly detailed, it had a mane of spikes that looked to pierce the wall, a face shaped like a Dragon, sleek and scaly, a maw full of teeth, and a pointed tongue.

A step lower, to the right and left, at the end of the corner of the top step, were the next thrones. Each throne, save for the top, was strategically placed at the corner edge of the upper step they were beneath to also allow for the person seated to be able to walk off to the outside or inside of the stairs once sessions were finished. The person who sat at the top had the option of walking down the middle, taking either the right side, or left side of the stairs, if they so ever felt like changing it up every once in a while. Of course, many have been killed because the Snake King, or Snake Queen, decided to walk to the right or left, sneaking behind their intended target to either slit their throat or cast harmful and fatal Magic at them.

The second row of thrones to the top step had Black Mambas as their snake statue, which also happened to be made of blackened steel, the extremely realistic snakes seemed to be guarding the second-highest thrones. With one on top hissing, and two on each side, making a total of five, one of them hissing and the other not. This was the same for the third-highest throne, only theirs was a King Cobra, also made, etched, and colored to the exact appearance of the snake. And the last two thrones, Rattlesnakes.

"It's good to see that you came." The delighted voice of Renѐea Selwyn expressed. She sat at the very top of all seven thrones. She was dressed in her school robes, yet her stature and presence still felt and looked regal as she imposed her gaze upon her guests.

To Renѐea's left was a woman who wore a mask with the face of a White Owl. She was dressed in white robes and a white, silk dress. She had long brown hair and a still composure, one would have thought she were frozen, she sat so still. She was thin and curvaceous, the nails of her fingers were painted red.

On Renѐea's right was Marcus Flint who had a mask of a Timber Wolf that rested on the left side of his head, his elbow rested on the arms of his throne as he leaned the opposite side of his face against his fist, staring intensely at Gerrod and Harry. Marcus wore his school robes as well, the same as the two who were a step lower. The lowest thrones were empty, devoid of an occupant.

The remaining two, who sat on the second to the lowest thrones, each wore masks as well, the one on the left wore a mask that had the face of a ferret. He was black-haired and built sturdy, large, rough, and callous hands gripped the heads of the snake-shaped armrests. The person on the right was a small woman, who seemed and looked to look like a child on the throne she sat on. Her mask was that of a Red Fox, she had red hair that flowed past her hips, and while child-like in shape and form, she held an air of authority to herself.

"It would have been impolite not to. Thank you for granting us an audience." Gerrod respectfully said, bowing.

"Yes, thank you." Harry said with the same amount of courteousness as he followed Gerrod's lead.

Renѐea hummed, she was amused. Evident of her smile as she peered down at the two bowing forms. "Rise," she told them, which they did. "Now tell me something, besides power, what do you want from this wretched world we live in?" She leaned back, resting her elbow on the armrest, resting the side of her face against her fingers. "How about you, Grindelwald, why don't you go first." A deadly glint formed in her eyes as she stared almost menacingly at Gerrod.

Gerrod silently tsked. "I guess you could say I want to return House Grindelwald to its former glory." His voice was calm, quiet even, not a hint of hesitance could be heard in her answer. "We were once a Noble House of Kings and Queens, I would see that we are once again."

"So you want glory." Renѐea states with a tone of approval, and amusement. "What of you, Potter? Or is it Harry, Hadrian? What do I call the enigma of Hogwarts?"

"I don't know, Renѐea," Harry says casually, taking a blatant tone of disrespect while doing so, which oddly caused her to smile and flash her pearly white teeth. "You tell me, you're obviously in charge."

"Watch your tone, boy." The man in the ferret mask growls out.

"Be quiet, Asher." Renѐea rebuked immediately, her voice was harsh with an emotionless tone as she stared at the back of the man's throne. She then focused her attention back on Harry. "Hadrian, oh I like how that sounds when I say it." She chuckles. "Did you know that I'm only in my Fourth Year?"

"No." Harry answered as he tried his best to hide it, but the disbelief, awe, and respect in his voice were just too obvious.

"It's surprising, isn't it?" She says with a happy, carefree tone, looking at Gerrod as if to brag. "Flint is Fourth Year as well. The Black Mamba's Left is a Sixth Year, and the King Cobra's Right and Left are both Seventh Years, and they all answer to me. I've amassed all this power, and do you know why I did so?" Harry shook his head no, causing Renѐea to lean forward as if one would with a child. "I did it for fun, because I could." She said crazily.

The comment makes every occupant on a throne stiffen. The moment she said that caused them all to realize that the only reason she took the throne of the Snake King… was because she was bored. It cemented a fact in their minds, making them realize that Renѐea Selwyn was essentially just… insane.

"Why tell me this?" Harry asked.

"Why not?" Renѐea answered innocently, well as innocent as she could sound, adding more puzzles to Harry's confusion. "Tell me, what do you seek in life, besides power?" Her subversion of topics went, surprisingly, completely unnoticed.

"Freedom." Harry answered instantly, which caused her to raise a brow, as if to tell him to explain. "I want freedom from my parents. But I also want revenge." Renѐea raised a curious, surprised eyebrow at Harry's declaration, while Gerrod looked at him with concern, knowing full well what kind of path revenge led to.

"Revenge has been the downfall of many," the Selwyn Heiress began with a wise-sounding voice. "How do you know you will not fall to the traps and vices laid out for the foolishly vengeful?"

"How are my motives foolish," Harry asked, demanding harshly for an answer. He was insulted. Gerrod quietly sighed, wondering if Harry could have said anything dumber. Though he did not voice his thoughts aloud, he knew karma was a bitch.

"It isn't." Renѐea answers back soothingly. "But if you allow it, it will be. Just like knowledge being a form of power, anger, is a form of a weapon. And weapons and power can be made useless and obsolete, should you allow it to take hold of your vision and blind yourself with arrogance."

"You speak from experience?" Harry had to answer back smugly. He caused the man, Asher, to seethe lowly and lean forward in his throne.

"Not personally," a smile graced Renѐea's face, then it fell. "Restrain yourself, Asher, or I will."

The man stood up angrily. "No!" He barked out. "You allow this boy to insinuate and challenge you, and you do nothing about it. Yet you do the opposite when we even voice a different opinion." His voice was furious as his patience had worn thin and was but gone. He pointed to Gerrod. "This boy has the gall to demand things of us, we are the Den of Snakes, we do not answer to his arrogance."

"Sit. Down." Renѐea's voice was low, the facade she wore on her face hid her anger at being disrespected, yet there was a dangerous glint in her eyes and an irritated tone to her voice.

"I will not," Asher shouted back as he stood to the side of his throne, staring defiantly at Renѐea. "You hear me? I will not sit down and allow you to give these boys free rein to say whatever they-"

He screamed as the King Cobras on his throne came alive and hissed at him, striking at him to latch onto him and kill. He pulled his wand out to cast a Spell but whenever he went to utter the incantation of a Spell his wand and magic did absolutely nothing, causing Renѐea to laugh, and cackle sadistically, in amusement.

"Have you forgotten that Magic cannot be cast in here?" She smiled at the fear that grew greater in the trembling of Asher's body when he realized and remembered. Asher took steps back before stumbling and falling down the stairs, crab walking away the moment he stopped his momentum, his whimpers of fear voicing softly as the snakes followed and hissed at him. "Kill him." The snakes seemed to understand what she said and immediately became more hostile.

This Asher person, out of desperation, hid behind Harry, grabbing his shoulders to use him as a meat shield.

"Selwyn," Harry received a hum back, "stop this."

"Why should I?" Renѐea answered childishly as she watched with barbarous glee. The King Cobras moved closer and closer, hissing and attacking, missing every time as they inched closer and closer, trapping Harry and Asher by surrounding him and the soon-to-be-dead Den member.

Harry glared at her, mad at her childish behavior, he looked down to see the snakes encroaching closer and closer to him and the Asher person. With no other choice, and no want to see someone die due to his negligence, Harry opened his mouth to speak, unknowingly cementing his future in Slytherin.

§ Stop this now. §

Everyone froze. The silence was deafening as they all witnessed something they never thought would happen to them in their lifetime.

"A Parseltongue," Renѐea whispers to herself, "how interesting." She said quietly as she stared at Harry. "Just how long have you been a Parseltongue, Hadrian Potter?"

'Oh no,' Gerrod thought to himself.

---

To be continued…

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